#and then things flow so quickly after that?

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters when they're jealous x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i really loveddd writing this, just imaginating each scenario was so satisfying, silco's and viktor's were my favorites. i loooove viktor so much i could write about that man each day of my life and never be get tired of it. btw request are open! ;)

Viktor

The lab was especially lively that afternoon, with new ideas flowing among the team. You were conversing with a new colleague, a young enthusiast who seemed to have a knack for understanding complex concepts. His questions and comments kept you engaged, and you couldn't help but smile at his contagious energy.

From his desk, Viktor occasionally glanced up, observing the interaction. At first, he seemed focused on his own calculations, but every time your laughter echoed through the space, his hands paused over the paper, and his gaze slightly hardened.

After a while, he stood up with his careful stride and approached you and your colleague, placing a hand on the edge of the table where you were working.

"Excuse me, could you come with me for a moment? There's something we need to review together," Viktor said, his tone polite but with a firmness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Of course, Viktor, give me a second," you replied, finishing explaining one last detail before turning to him.

Viktor waited for you to stand up and guided you back to his desk. When you both were seated, he leaned slightly toward you, his eyes searching yours.

"It seemed like you were quite involved in your conversation," he commented, trying to maintain a casual tone but failing to hide the hint of jealousy in his gaze.

"I was just explaining some of the previous projects," you said, gently touching his hand to calm him. "Nothing I can't share with you."

Viktor nodded, relaxing slightly at your touch, but he didn't let the subject drop so easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there are things only we share, isn't it?"

His voice was soft, but the intensity of his words made your heart beat a little faster. You knew Viktor rarely showed his emotions so openly, and seeing that protective side of him was something you couldn't ignore.

"Viktor," you said, smiling and intertwining your fingers with his. "You know you're always the first person I think of when something excites me. No one can replace you."

The shadow of jealousy that had been haunting him slowly faded, replaced by a slight smile that barely curved his lips. Viktor leaned in a bit more, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a caress that spoke of the trust he had in you.

"I know," he whispered. "I just needed to remind myself."

Jinx

The air in the Undercity was thick with smoke and raucous laughter as you made your way into an underground club with Jinx. The vibrant music filled the space, and the crowd moved like a wild tide. You had come with Jinx to get distracted, but soon found yourself caught up in a conversation with an old acquaintance. His words were lively, but your attention was divided between him and the flashes of blue in the background, where Jinx was watching.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, her bright blue eyes shining intensely as she watched you laugh and chat with someone else. Her jaw was tense, and her fingers nervously played with a grenade she had pulled from her belt. Jealousy boiled inside her, mixed with a latent fear that she might lose you.

When the man placed a hand on your arm to emphasize his point, Jinx could no longer hold herself back. She cut through the crowd with the agility of a predator, her presence drawing attention as she advanced toward you.

"Hey! How about you get lost before things get ugly?" Jinx interrupted the conversation with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her voice laden with a barely concealed threat.

The man quickly stepped away, recognizing the danger in Jinx's tone. He had barely disappeared into the crowd when Jinx grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a less crowded corner of the club.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, surprised by her abruptness.

Jinx stared at you, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I didn’t like how he looked at you. I didn’t like how he touched you. You’re mine, understand? Only mine."

The intensity in her voice took your breath away. It was as if her whole world revolved around you, and the idea of sharing you with someone else drove her mad.

"Jinx..." you began, trying to calm her, but she was already moving closer, her hands on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

"I don’t care if I’m too much. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. I can’t stand the idea of someone else trying to have what’s mine," she whispered, her lips inches from yours.

"Jinx," you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. "I understand how you feel, but you can't act like this or treat people that way. You have to trust me. I’ll never leave you, but you have to believe in us. You have to believe in me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, and she nodded slightly, her breathing still heavy but beginning to calm.

Her words were a whirlwind of passion and possessiveness, and before you could respond, her lips found yours in a fierce kiss, filled with need and latent desperation. Her body trembled against yours, and you felt the chaos of her emotions spilling into every movement.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, pleading and vulnerable. "Promise me you'll always stay with me. That you’ll never let anyone come between us."

"Jinx, I could never want anyone else," you said, stroking her cheek gently. "I’m here, and I always will be."

Jinx closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as her breathing steadied. "I love you... too much."

Vi

The atmosphere in the alley was charged with electricity. The crowd gathered around the makeshift fight ring, silently placing bets as they watched the imminent confrontation. You knew what Vi did, what she had done her entire life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and anticipation wrapped around her like a shadow. But this time, something was different.

Beside you, Vi was ready, her gloves tightened, muscles tense beneath her shirt. The fierce look she shot at the man in front of her was nothing new; they had seen it dozens of times. But this time, something shifted in the air. Maybe it was the way she glanced at you, as if trying to make sure you were okay before the fight began. But you knew the man facing her wasn’t just another opponent. He was a guy with bad intentions and an overly confident smirk.

"Hey there, pretty," the man approached you with a smooth tone, his gaze far too bold as he caught you off guard. "Surely, you’ve got more to offer than just standing here watching your girl fight, right? Why don’t you come with me after this? I can make you forget all this chaos."

You didn’t expect that attitude, and your discomfort was evident, though you didn’t want to make a scene. You tried to keep calm, but the weight of the situation crept over you. However, before you could respond, the man gave your arm a touch, seeking your attention, breaking your personal space.

Vi didn’t think for another second.

With a low growl, like a caged beast, she approached him. Her eyes gleamed with fury, her body tense, ready to strike, but before she could, the man sneered.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Bothered by a little distraction?" the man taunted, his tone more provoking than sympathetic, as if testing how far Vi’s patience could stretch.

"I suggest you walk away," Vi snarled, the rage bubbling in her voice, as she stepped closer, her muscles marking a clear threat that she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers. But the man didn’t give her the chance to do anything. With a provoking smile, he tried to step closer to you, completely ignoring Vi.

Before he could get any nearer, Vi shoved him back with a sharp punch that echoed through the place. "I’m the only one who touches her!" Vi’s voice boomed with such intensity that the air seemed to freeze.

The crowd shuddered, expectant. The guy, who thought his attitude could intimidate, now found himself cornered by Vi’s fierce rivalry, his previously confident eyes now filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"I told you to walk away," Vi repeated, her tone so grave that the man had no choice but to retreat.

The fight began.

The crowd dispersed as the bets continued, but Vi saw nothing beyond her target. Every punch she threw at her opponent was filled with fury. She wasn’t just fighting for money or respect; she was fighting for you. The idea of someone daring to look at you, touch you, think they could make you theirs, drove her to lose control in a dangerous way.

The man tried to fight back, but Vi, with her agility and strength, knocked him down once again, this time with a punch so powerful that the sound of the impact echoed in everyone’s ears. In seconds, he was already on the ground, defeated, and Vi stared down at him before turning toward you.

Your heart pounded as you watched the scene. Vi was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but her gaze was solely on you.

Vi walked toward you with the swagger of someone who had just won, her smile full of pride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her tone softer but still carrying a hint of challenge.

"You really love putting on a show, don’t you?" you responded sarcastically, a playful smirk forming as you wrapped your arms around her.

Vi leaned in, her eyes darkening with intensity. "It’s not about the show," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "I can’t stand anyone touching you or even thinking they can get close to you."

A grin tugged at your lips. "I love it when you get possessive," you whispered, your gaze locked with hers.

Vi’s expression shifted to one of amused delight before she pulled you into a wild, passionate kiss. "You’re mine," she growled against your lips, the ferocity of her claim sending a shiver down your spine.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in her hair. "And you’re mine," you declared, your voice firm with equal possessiveness. The world around you faded into irrelevance, leaving only the two of you, caught in a storm of desire and fierce loyalty.

Caitlyn

The elegant gala in Piltover had unfolded without incident, as expected from an event of such magnitude. The city's high society was enjoying the evening, and you, as a special guest, were no exception. Caitlyn, always poised and reserved, had invited you to accompany her, and in her role as hostess, she was the center of many conversations. However, your presence hadn’t gone unnoticed by a few.

The soft murmur of conversation turned into something more charged when a man you hadn’t seen before approached with a calculated smile. Clearly part of the elite, he had an impeccable demeanor and the gaze of someone who knew how to get what he wanted.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look tonight," the man said, smiling with a tone as smooth as it was dangerous. "I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, but I believe I’d like to. Would you care to join me for a quieter drink? Perhaps we could find a more secluded spot to chat."

You quickly noticed his tone was more than a simple invitation, bordering on an insinuation that made you uncomfortable. You tried to smile politely, but before you could respond, you felt Caitlyn’s presence next to you.

Caitlyn’s response was cold as ice, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and her with a grace that turned every head in the room. She placed a gentle yet firm hand on your waist, pulling you close, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The simple act silenced the murmurs around you, establishing her claim without a single word.

Turning to the man, Caitlyn’s voice was soft but carried a steely edge. "My partner isn’t interested in your offer," she said with a calm, unwavering gaze that could cut glass.

The man’s smile faltered but quickly returned, broader and more calculated. "Surely, she can speak for herself. Maybe she’s just being polite."

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a glint of sharp amusement in her eyes. "I won’t repeat myself. The invitation is declined," she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "And I’ve heard whispers about certain irregularities in your financial dealings. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a closer look, would you?"

The man's face paled as the words settled in, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Caitlyn’s veiled threat. Without another word, he mumbled an apology and quickly melted back into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You can be a bit extreme sometimes, you know that?"

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes softening as a small smile curved her lips. "When it comes to you, I’ll do anything. I would go to any lengths for you."

Caitlyn’s words hung in the air, and without another thought, she gently pressed her forehead against yours, closing her eyes in a quiet, tender moment. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in the stillness. It was a gesture of love, of connection, so intimate that nothing else mattered. Slowly, she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you held her close, both of you savoring the shared warmth and affection.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. "But the event must go on, right? You can’t let one old, pretentious, corrupt man ruin your mood."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly embarrassed by the playful suggestion. "You really know how to make me laugh," she said, a genuine smile pulling at her lips as her usual composure returned.

"You have to show them how well Caitlyn Kiramman performs as a host," you teased, your voice playful. "A night like this is your stage, and that man doesn’t deserve to ruin the performance. Besides, you can’t let anyone think they can just mess with you."

Her laughter filled the air, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but shake her head at your teasing, the blush still present on her cheeks. Taking your arm with an elegant, almost theatrical gesture, she smiled at you. "Alright, let’s show them how it’s done," she said, the regal composure she always exuded returning in full force.

As you both walked away, side by side, the night unfolded once more, but it was clear—nothing, not even the interruption of a rude guest, could take away from the quiet, unspoken bond between the two of you.

Jayce

The night stretched on, filled with bright lights, laughter, and glasses of wine being raised in what seemed to be an exclusive gala of Piltover's high society. The crowd, elegant and wealthy, flowed through the hallways, engaging in lively conversations about scientific and political advancements, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place amidst so much luxury.

Jayce, always by your side, looked every bit the perfect gentleman in his perfectly tailored suit, smiling, but with a slight shadow of concentration that betrayed the way he observed the surroundings. As if he were seeing beyond the faces, detecting every detail. His fingers rested gently on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, protecting you from any uncomfortable glance or word.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he said, smiling at you tenderly. “Just a little more patience, then we’ll leave.”

Before you could respond, a man, someone who clearly wasn’t unfamiliar to you due to his overly flashy style and even more obvious intentions, arrogantly approached, interrupting your conversation with Jayce.

“What a pleasure to see you here. The beauty of Piltover doesn’t stop at inventions, does it?” the man said in an excessively flattering tone, his eyes clearly evaluating you in an uncomfortable way. The way he approached wasn’t that of a friend or acquaintance, but rather of someone who was clearly interested in something more. He came too close, not to greet you in a friendly manner, but as if he were recruiting you for something you didn’t want.

You felt the growing discomfort in your chest. But before you could say anything, you felt Jayce’s presence beside you. Somehow, without the man saying another word, the space between him and you seemed to shrink. Jayce didn’t show aggression, but the aura of power that emanated from him was enough to make anyone think twice before continuing.

“Well, who would have thought tonight’s gala would be so… interesting?” Jayce said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, observing the man as if evaluating him from head to toe. “I wonder if your compliments are as easy to come by as they seem, or if it’s simply an innate talent of yours.”

The man stood silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Jayce wasn’t looking at him with disdain, but with a smile that was almost kind, though it left no room for doubt: he wasn’t welcome.

“You know,” Jayce continued in a soft voice, but with a hint of mischief that only he knew how to wield, “I think my lady here, doesn’t need any more empty compliments from someone who’s only interested in the surface. She’s here for her intelligence, for what she brings to the city. And I think that… is far more attractive than any cheap remark you could make.”

The man, caught by Jayce’s passive-aggressive tone, hurried to apologize and walked away, unsure of how to defend himself against the elegant subtlety with which Jayce had disarmed him.

Once the politician had gone, Jayce turned to you with a warmer smile, his eyes softening when he saw that you had remained silent, a little tense from the exchange.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, caressing your arm delicately. “I don’t like it when you’re bothered, but you know I won’t let someone so… bland… get close to you like that.”

You smiled, relieved by his intervention but also a little overwhelmed by how perceptive he had been. “Thank you, Jayce. I didn’t know how… to handle the situation.”

He smiled tenderly, his eyes shining with confidence, as always. “You don’t have to,” he said as he got closer, gently cupping your face. He looked at you intently, and without warning, placed a soft kiss on your cheek, the gesture so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But if you ever need help getting someone to leave you alone, you know I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice filled with sweetness and protection.

And as you continued walking through the gala, with the gentleness of his touch and his firm presence, you felt that, despite the challenges you sometimes faced, you had someone who knew how to handle any situation without losing his class or his affection.

Ekko

You're walking through the streets of the Undercity, a place known both for its decadent beauty and constant danger. Today seems to be one of those days when the city has a somewhat more chaotic air, but somehow, you feel more at peace than ever with him by your side. Ekko, as always, accompanies you with his relaxed attitude and that confident smile that rarely disappears from his face.

Suddenly, an unknown man appears out of nowhere, interrupting your conversation with Ekko. He gives you a blatant, shameless look, approaching you with the obvious intention of grabbing your attention. He’s the type who clearly believes he can have you with just a few words.

“Well, what do we have here?” he says, with a smug smile. “A beauty like you around here? I can’t imagine why someone so special is wasting their time with a guy like him.” He looks at Ekko, then shifts his gaze back to you. “I’m sure you and I could do great things together. What do you say? I could show you what it really means to live.”

Before you can respond, you notice Ekko, apparently unfazed by the situation. He stops, lets out a light laugh, and approaches, observing the guy with an expression that clearly shows he’s taking the situation as a joke.

“Seriously?” Ekko says in a playful tone, as if he were watching some kind of comedy show. “So, you’re offering my girl ‘what it really means to live’? Let me tell you something, buddy: if she really looked at you, you’d know you’re not even close to being ‘a big deal.’”

The stranger stands there a bit stunned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. Ekko continues, not wasting a second. “You know what? Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I’m sure you and your ‘great proposals’ have an audience somewhere else, but… seriously, I recommend you stop wasting your breath here.”

The guy seems confused, and seeing that Ekko isn’t remotely jealous or concerned, he tries to change his tactic. “Come on, don’t be like that, I was just being nice. I’m sure you don’t mind a little competition, right?”

Ekko looks at him with a wide grin, but it’s clear he’s taking nothing seriously. “Competition? Was that a threat or a joke? Because, seriously, if you thought I’d be worried, I think you’ve misunderstood everything. I don’t know if you’re used to dealing with people who don’t know what they want, but let me clarify something: don’t waste my time, buddy.”

The guy seems to finally understand that he’s not going to get anywhere and, somewhat embarrassed, walks away quickly, mumbling something incomprehensible as he retreats.

Ekko, seeing him leave, turns to you with a mocking smile. “See? He didn’t even bother to keep going. Like someone like him had a chance.”

You laugh at his carefree attitude and move a little closer to him, gently touching his arm. “Doesn’t it really bother you when someone approaches me like that?”

Ekko places a hand on his chest, acting as if he’s deeply hurt. “Bother me? No, not at all. I’m so sure of myself and what we have that those things don’t affect me.” Then, he smiles knowingly. “Besides, you know there’s nothing that guy could do to win me over. If you cared about anything else, you’d already know.”

You look into his eyes and, with a playful gesture, touch his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s confidence or arrogance, but I like it.”

Ekko laughs softly before leaning in a little closer to you. “What you like, girl, is that I’m the only one who can make you laugh even in the most ridiculous situations. And if that’s not what matters, I don’t know what does.”

Suddenly, he leans in and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, as if it’s as natural as breathing. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time with guys like him. Let’s do something better. But before…” He stops for a moment, his playful gaze fixed on you. “Tell me, when did I learn to become this irresistible?”

The situation lightens with his relaxed attitude, and the confidence he has in what you two share makes you smile. With Ekko, there’s no room for doubt or worry. He knows what he has and how to handle anything that comes his way.

Silco

The meeting room is thick with the heavy atmosphere of a business that has no place in the light of day. The men around you are shadowed figures, accustomed to the illegality that runs like poison through the veins of the Undercity. Silco sits at the head of the table, his presence a shadow that dominates the space, and you’re beside him, as always. No one dares to look beyond his presence, and everyone knows that it’s not just his partner who must be respected, but you as well.

You’re his, that’s what everyone thinks. No one dares to say it out loud, but it’s clear in the air. The way he treats you, how he keeps you close to him at all times, how his gaze never leaves you. Silco doesn’t speak of what is obvious, but everyone knows. You are his in a way that no one dares question.

The meeting is tense, filled with discussions about contracts and dirty deals, but the tone shifts quickly when Finn, one of Silco’s oldest and most dangerous partners, leans back in his chair with a cocky grin. This guy’s been in the business for years and isn’t intimidated by the threat Silco represents. But this time, he’s gone too far.

“You know, Silco,” Finn begins, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, a mocking smirk on his face. “I think it’s a waste to have this beauty always by your side and not put her to work properly.” His laugh is bitter, full of malice, and his eyes fix on you with an unsettling intensity. “How about you let me borrow her for a day? Or better yet... how much would I have to pay to spend a night with her? You must be making a good amount from such a treasure, right?”

The air freezes instantly. The room falls silent, and even the toughest men know that a very fine line has just been crossed. Silco doesn’t speak for a moment; there’s something about his calmness that’s terrifying, a calm that always precedes a storm.

Silco slowly raises his head, his dark eyes fixed on Finn, his gaze as cold as steel. His face remains unchanged, but the atmosphere around him grows thick, dangerous.

The silence is absolute, and all eyes are on Finn, who is now visibly uncomfortable. However, Silco doesn’t budge. At that precise moment, his gaze shifts toward Sevika, his right-hand woman, who stands by the wall. Sevika’s imposing figure doesn’t need words to understand her boss’s intention. Silco gives her an imperceptible nod, and in an instant, Sevika moves with lethal speed.

In the blink of an eye, Finn is at the table, a loud thud fills the room as Sevika slams him against the surface, his face now smashed against it. Everyone watches in silence, as if the very air has stopped, knowing that Silco’s simple gesture has activated the kind of violence that should always be avoided in his presence.

“I’d suggest you think very carefully before you speak, Finn,” Silco says calmly, his gaze fixed on the humiliated man. “Because I don’t like anyone questioning what belongs to me, and certainly not disrespecting it like that.”

Finn staggers, slowly getting up, embarrassed and frightened. However, it’s not enough. Silco looks at him as though he’s observing a pest, and his tone is all Finn needs to understand this is his final warning.

“Now, apologize to her,” Silco orders, his voice almost a whisper of pure threat. “And do it in a way that reminds you how low you’ve fallen, because I’m not willing to tolerate such disrespect in my territory.”

The room is in absolute silence. The tension could be cut with a knife, and all present, even the toughest men, don’t dare make a single move. Finn, trembling, has no choice but to give in. He turns toward you, his face conflicted but clearly defeated, and his voice, full of humiliation, rises in the air. You almost felt sorry for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shame and fear evident on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I apologize.”

Silco doesn’t say anything, but his expression says it all. It’s a clear message: never again.

After a few seconds, the situation lightens slightly. Silco returns to his seat, and the room resumes its usual rhythm, though the fear still lingers in the air. No one will dare challenge him again.

When the tension finally dissipates, Silco turns toward you, and his gaze softens when he sees that you’re unharmed, calm. There’s an intensity in his look, a protective possessiveness that never fades. He takes your hand firmly, guiding you toward the exit of the room without saying another word.

Silco is not a man who needs to explain his gestures. His presence, his actions, speak for him. In his world, no one touches what belongs to him, and anyone who does will learn, like Finn, what it truly means to cross the line.

Mel

The council meeting is at its most tense, with politicians and businesspeople discussing agreements, but something in the air changes when a man, one of the most influential businessmen, dares to flirt with you. He leans toward you with an arrogant smile, throwing out bold comments.

"I’ve always wondered how someone as... attractive as you ends up next to a woman as cold as Mel," he says with a smile. "How about we grab a coffee later? I’m sure we could talk about things much more interesting than this boring meeting."

Silence spreads across the room. Everyone watches the situation, but Mel doesn’t change her posture. She stays silent, but the tension in her body is palpable. Something in the air tells you this is not a game she’s willing to tolerate.

"Do you dare talk about her like that?" Mel finally speaks, her tone soft but laced with threat. "Last time I checked, this meeting wasn’t a place for cheap advances."

The man, who had been confident, now looks visibly uncomfortable. "If you speak like that again, I assure you, it won’t be coffee you’ll be having, but a much... bitterer deal."

The threat is clear. All eyes focus on the man, who now seems small and uncomfortable. Mel doesn’t need to raise her voice for everyone to feel the weight of her authority.

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed, not daring to look at them.

Mel responds with a cold smile. "I suggest you remember who’s really in control here."

The man nods quickly, speechless. Mel turns toward you, her calculating gaze fixed on you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and though the question is soft, you know it’s a reminder that no one, not even him, will dare approach you in that way again.

You nod, feeling the security that only Mel can provide. No one will touch what’s hers.

"Let’s go," Mel says, rising gracefully. "We’ve got work to do."

The dynamic has shifted, and the room remains silent, but everyone knows Mel has made it clear who holds the power. You, being hers, are not only protected by her power but by her cunning and absolute control.

As you both leave the room, Mel stops at the threshold, looking at you with an almost evaluative expression.

"And don’t forget," she says quietly, "this is not just for you. It’s for everything you represent." She gives you a look that seems to assess your reaction, as if making sure you understand what’s at stake. "This is just the beginning."

The hallway is silent, but when you both take another step, Mel turns to you with a smile that, although subtle, carries a hint of satisfaction. "Never let anyone underestimate you, especially when they have no idea what they could lose."

She looks at you for a moment, and you realize that, beneath her power and control, there’s something else... something tender.

"I care for you because you’re mine," she whispers, but not possessively—more like a promise, as if she’s telling you that in this world of chaos, she will always be your refuge.

Before you can respond, Mel leans slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but one full of intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a short kiss, but enough to convey everything that can’t be said in words. The contact is warm, protective, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely safe in her arms.

When she pulls away, her eyes seek yours with the unwavering confidence she’s always had, but now with something more. "Don’t forget this," she says, lightly touching your face. "No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine."

With a smile, she takes your hand, and without saying another word, you both continue walking.

Sevika

The hustle and bustle of the streets of Zaun echoes in the distance, but inside the tavern, the atmosphere is dense, heavy. The man approaches the table with that confident look, not as subtle as he thinks, and his words slide out like sweet poison.

"Well, who are you?" he says, smiling as his eyes boldly scan your figure. "A woman so brilliant, so... stunning, in a place like this."

Sevika doesn’t flinch, but you can see the tension ripple through her body, as if something dangerous is about to explode. Her eyes, cold as steel, follow the man while he continues talking, completely unaware of the danger he’s creating.

"I’m sure there’s more behind that facade," he says, getting closer, his voice too near your ear. "A beauty so rare, so unique, can’t just be a pretty face."

The discomfort grows inside you, but it’s Sevika who feels it first. Her expression shifts from calm to contained fury. She looks at you for a moment, as if asking for permission to act, and when your eyes meet, you know the situation is about to turn dangerous.

The man persists, but Sevika won’t tolerate it anymore. She stands up, her boots echoing on the floor with a firmness that makes everyone fall silent. Her words come out as a whisper, but they are loaded with a threat that everyone feels.

"If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you wish you were never born," she says, her voice low, but her deadly tone unmistakable.

The man steps back, and his eyes finally show fear. Sevika gives him no space to react, her presence crushes him, forcing him to step back, and without saying another word, the man turns and disappears into the crowd, his ego shattered by Sevika's imposing figure.

She returns to her seat, the calm returning to her face, though the intensity of her gaze doesn’t fade. She looks at you, and for the first time, her lips curve into a smile that’s anything but kind. It’s pure possessiveness, a warning without words.

"Does it bother you when someone gets that close to you?" she asks, her tone almost playful, as if testing your limits.

You look at her, feeling the heat in your chest. There’s no fear, only confidence, because you know you’ll always have your strong, powerful woman by your side to protect you, to defend you from anything that tries to break the bubble you’ve built with her. You move closer slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I feel fine," you reply with a seductive smile, letting your words linger between the two of you. "I know I’ll always have you—my strong, fierce, and captivating woman, who will always protect me." You flirt as you settle comfortably in her lap.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a playful yet dangerous smile curling on her lips. Her hot breath brushes against your neck. "Good that you know," she whispers, her voice low and raspy, laden with a desire only you can understand. "Because as long as I’m by your side, no one will touch you. And the best part... is that you don’t even have to ask. I’ll take care of them in an instant."

"You’re so extra," you smile, biting her muscled arm playfully.

"Do you always have to do that?" she asks, not annoyed but intrigued, her hand gently petting your head.

"What can I say?" you reply with a teasing glint in your eyes. "It turns me on seeing you so jealous and possessive over me."

She growls softly, then grabs her beer, finishing it in one swift motion. Her gaze sharpens as she takes your hand.

"I think it’s time to head home," she says, her voice dripping with intent. "I plan to make the most of this behavior of yours while I can."

Sevika intertwines her fingers with yours, a silent promise that no one and nothing will dare cross that line. As the noise of the tavern continues, you and Sevika are momentarily isolated in your own world of protection, passion, and control—where only she holds the power to keep you safe.

[sturnlsstuff]

NOT SO TOUGH | ghostface!matt

ghostface!matt comes to you for help after geting hurt on one of his "nights out".

— warnings; blood, mentions of murder & violence, cursing

requested by this person !! divider credits. @anitalenia

it was a quiet evening in which you finally found some time to take care of yourself, do skincare, watch your favorite shows and read a book. you were home alone, a week after finishing your finals at college, and you needed some relaxation and peace. you didn't think anything could destroy your alone time tonight.

until someone started banging on your door around midnight.

confused by someone visiting at such an hour, you get out of bed and lazily trudge to the door, first obviously checking who it was. a frown appears between your eyebrows and your heart skips a beat. you unlock the door, "matt? what are you—"

he practically pushes himself forward, almost losing his balance and leaning on your body for support. "fuck, sorry— are you... are you alone?"

"yeah," you kick the door shut with your foot, arm wrapping around his waist causing hiss to escape from his mouth. matt takes off his blood stained ghostface mask, tossing it to the side so you were able to see his face. he didn't look too good, blood dripping from his nose, hair messed up, dark circles under his eyes. your heart drops at the sight. "what— what happened?"

"fuckin' disaster, that's what happened." he retorts dryly, grimacing in pain as you start leading him to the bathroom. "i know is late, i just didn't really know where to go. i couldn't... couldn't show up like this at my place, y'know."

after helping him sit down on the closed toilet, you stand between his legs, grabbing his jaw and examining his face against the light to see better. he gently smacks your hand away, "is nothing, y'need to help me with this." he points at his black robe, only now it is noticeable that it was damaged, torn in some places and also bloody, your mind swirling with questions, assumptions and worries.

you help him untangle himself from the robe, several curses and painful groans filling the bathroom. underneath he had a black t-shirt through which you could also see the blood stain. you lock eyes with him, "matt. what the fuck happened?"

he rolls his eyes, trying to take off the shirt with which you're also quick to help. "i was out, doing my... stuff. had to take care of things, but it went slightly in a wrong direction—"

"slightly?!"

your eyes widen, breath catches in your throat as his bare chest is revealed to your gaze with numerous bruises forming on it and — what's worse, a cut on his rib from which blood was oozing out.

"yeahhhh... business problems," his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, before he winces when your fingers brush against his bruises. his skin feels exposed under your eyes, and he can see that concerned expression of yours that you were giving him more and more often recently. he sighs, "it looks worse than it feels, i promise. don't worry 'bout it."

"i'm not..." you mutter quietly.

he smirks, blood from his nose begins to flow down his mouth and chin. "sure you don't, sweetheart."

"matt, you should see a doctor. i'm serious, this is...."

"be realistic," he scoffs. "i can't go to the hospital. it'd arouse suspicions. you gotta be my doctor for tonight." he cracks a little smile, his amusement making you annoyed.

"you're helpless."

"wooow, low blow, low blow—"

you quickly find the first aid kit and take a towel, soaking it slightly with water. standing between his legs again, you tilt his head back, starting to wipe the blood from his face. "so how did it happen? and i don't wanna hear any of this 'business problems' bullshit."

he sighs, eyes locked on your face. "my victim was such a fighter, apparently. didn't really want to die." his words makes a shiver goes down your spine, even if you were already used to his lifestyle. "there were two of 'em, wanting to make sure to leave me with a few gifts." once he sees the death stare you give him, he decides to push the jokes aside. "it was just a little harder this time. one of 'em punched me in the face with something, which explains this," he points at his face that was now clean. "if not my mask, i'd probably get my nose fuckin' broken."

"and what about this?" you urge him to lean back slightly and look at the cut on his ribs that is still leaking blood. it wasn't deep luckily, but looked nasty.

"the other one tried to defend himself with a knife and scratched me a little bit—"

"scratched you? jesus christ, matt..." you start cleaning the wound without warning, causing him to flinch and curse loudly. "oh, sorry— sorry..."

"be maybe a bit gentler, huh?"

you kneel between his legs, looking up at him with clear annoyance, "what's the problem, tough guy? i thought it only scratched you."

"oh, shut up..." he rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly, but then he groaned again as you continued to clean up the cut.

"not so tough now, hm?" you tease, but then gets more serious as the blood is still oozing out. "matt, you need to be more careful. and why the fuck would you even attack two guys when you're on your own? are you crazy?"

"hey, don't question my skills just 'cos i got hurt. it never happens, there always has to be a first time." he watches as you use a clean cloth, trying to stanch the gash on his skin. then you wrap the bandage tightly around his waist. luckily the wound really wasn't that big and didn't need to be seen by a doctor like you thought at the beginning. "besides..." he hisses uncomfortably. "i know what m'doing is dangerous and it's not gonna stop me. so quit worrying, m'kay?" he grips your wrist when you stand up, about to pull away. he pulls you to sit on his thigh, his hands finding its ways to your hips. "i'm serious."

"it's just... i never know what to expect from you," your arm wraps around his shoulder. "what if next time is going to be something worse? like..."

"m'good at what i'm doing, sweetheart. and you know it," he presses a small kiss on your neck, which breaks your attitude, causing to smile. "and to be honest? you're pretty good at being my personal nurse, so maybe i should start getting hurt more often."

"matt, don't even fucking joke like that," you reply, getting a chuckle in response which quickly turns into a slight cough and grimace, his chest and ribs in pain. "see? karma."

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs

[minniesfiles]

YOUNG, WILD AND FREE

There was nothing Mingyu valued more than his freedom — not even your friendship.

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; friends with benefits, friends to strangers, angst, school au, swearing, unrequited love, mingyu is an asshole, crying, mention of smoking

❧ WORDCOUNT; 2.1k

𐚁₊⊹

▍12 JULY 2015

Eighteen is an age where most teenagers are expected to have their minds set on the future by making plans, and preparing for adulthood.

But for you and Mingyu, life had a different flow, one that refused to conform to societal expectations. To you both, eighteen wasn’t the end of your teenage years but the peak of them — a time to savor the short-lived moments of youth before the emerging responsibilities of adulthood could tighten their grip.

You had your entire lives to be serious, to settle down, and to embrace the grind. For now, life was about embracing freedom and chasing the kind of memories you’d still laugh about decades later.

The word “fun” held a different connotation to you. It was about enjoying the reckless energy of youth and pleasures.

It meant sneaking into wild parties with flashing lights and loud music, losing yourselves in the rhythm of the dance floor. It meant exploring the highs and lows of life without apology — whether through alcohol-fueled nights that blurred into dawn or the moments of sexual intimacy that only the two of you shared.

Those moments weren't uncommon though — they became a routine to you. In the world that you and Mingyu lived in, everything was an adventure, and nothing was too risky if it promised even a silver amount of excitement.

The way you two fit together was magnetic, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to magnify each other's joy and chaos. You pushed each other deeper into the vortex you called life, and he carried an unshakeable confidence that you returned.

But even as you laughed and celebrated your youth, things began to change — subtly at first. It was in the little things. Like the way he would look at you as if he were looking for something deeper, or the quiet moments in which the usual play of your shenanigans would cease and a wordless burden would linger.

“Have an extra cigarette?” Mingyu asked as he jogged towards you, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head with a half-smile, “sorry, this was my last one.”

With a careless shrug, you dropped the burning stub onto the pavement and crushed it under your boot.

“Liar,” he said with a scoff, rolling his eyes as he sat down next to you. His presence was so casual, as if the air between you two wasn’t filled with tension.

You glared at him, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Mingyu, what do you want?” you asked sharply, crossing your arms in an attempt to create some barrier between the two of you.

“Chill, I didn’t even do anything,” he said defensively, his hands shooting up as though to shield himself from your sharp tone. But you weren’t having it.

“No, I mean, why are you here? Surely you want something,” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. There was no way Mingyu had just ditched his best friend’s birthday party to come and find you for no reason, especially not after what happened.

He sighed deeply, shifting uncomfortably before speaking. “Look, I wanna talk about that night…last week,” he started hesitantly, his voice quieter than usual.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the mention of “that night” made a knot form in your stomach. You shot up from the rusted bench, shaking your head quickly.

“I don’t want to do this,” you muttered, your voice low but firm. You couldn’t bear to go back there — not with him.

But Mingyu wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily. “Y/n, wait!” he called out, suddenly on his feet.

His hand grabbed your wrist before you could take another step, and spun you around to face him. The sudden movement startled you, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against his chest. You froze, the proximity making it impossible to ignore the intensity in his eyes.

“That night-” he began, his voice trembling slightly, but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Please, can we not talk about it?” your voice was almost a whisper now, your resolve crumbling as the weight of that memory pressed against your chest. Each second felt heavier as the images of that night played in your mind.

Mingyu’s grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you anchored there. “You know we were drunk,” he said softly, his gaze searching for yours.

“And I know those words…they didn’t mean to come out of your mouth. But I need you to understand that I’m not ready for things like that.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, each syllable piercing through your chest. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for what you felt, for what you said that night. And hearing him say it out loud — hearing the finality in his tone — was enough to break something deep inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as the weight of his rejection settled in. It wasn’t anger or frustration that you felt in that moment, but a bone-deep sadness. Your heart felt like it had been sliced in two, leaving you standing there completely shattered.

Yet, you said nothing. What could you say? The words that had once tumbled out of your mouth were now stuck in your throat, choking you.

You didn’t even realise your eyes were welling up with tears until you felt the warm streaks slide down your cheeks. Embarrassed and overwhelmed, you pulled away from Mingyu’s grasp with a sharp jerk, and wiped your face with shaky hands.

“I wasn’t drunk that night, Mingyu. But I was definitely stupid to have my hopes high” your voice cracked as you blurted.

His expression froze, and his brows furrowed in confusion as he searched your face for clarity. “What do you mean?” he asked.

But you didn’t want to explain — not now, not like this. “Forget it,” you said harshly, taking another step back and shaking your head as though that would erase the vulnerability you had just exposed. You refused to let him see any more of the pain that clawed your heart.

He stood still, staring at you as you turned on your heel and tried to leave. But before you could get too far, you heard the sound of his footsteps behind you. He wasn’t going to let you walk away, not without answers.

Grabbing your wrist, he spun you around, his grip firm but not forceful. His other hand came up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something between frustration and desperation.

“Y/n, I need answers,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “You’re not in love with me, are you?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, frozen. He pressed further, his voice louder now, “answer me, goddammit!”

“SO WHAT IF I AM?!” you shouted back, your voice rising before cracking.

“So fucking what?!” you could barely hold yourself together anymore, your words spilling out in a shaky defiance.

“Y/n, we’re just fuck buddies. I thought we made it clear that no feelings were supposed to be involved, and that we wouldn’t fall for each other,” Mingyu said, his voice firm yet laced with frustration.

He looked at you like he was trying to drill the words into your mind, as though reminding you of the rules would somehow erase everything you were feeling.

“I know, okay?! I know!” you shouted, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

“But I couldn’t help it, Gyu. I couldn’t help how I feel about you. It just…it just happened,” you sobbed, rubbing your face in frustration. The tears wouldn’t stop falling, each one a reminder of how deeply you had let yourself fall for him.

Mingyu’s expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Maybe hesitation, or guilt? He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. He didn’t know how to respond, and that silence stung more than any words could have.

Finally, he sighed “stay away from me from now on” he said. His voice was cold and detached, as if he flipped a switch and turned off all the warmth you’d once felt from him. His eyes bore into yours with a glare that was meant to sever ties.

Your heart shattered. The pain was unbearable, like a knife twisting deeper with each passing second. “I want to have fun, Y/n, and I don’t need you and your stupid feelings ruining anything for me,” he added, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

He turned to walk away, and something inside you snapped. Before you could think, you ran after him, grabbing his wrist with trembling hands. “Mingyu, wait!”

He stopped but let out an exasperated sigh, turning back to you with visible annoyance. “What now?” he asked sharply.

You stepped in front of him, tears streaming down your face as you looked up at him. “Please don’t do this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, and I can’t help how I feel about you. I love you, Gyu. I love you. Why can’t you understand that?”

Your shaking hands reached up to cup his face. Your touch was desperate and filled with longing, hoping — praying — that he would finally see how much he meant to you.

“Why can’t we give each other a chance?” you asked again, your voice quivering as tears spilled. There was a pleading in your eyes that you hoped Mingyu would notice.

But all he did was glare back at you. He took a step back, shaking his head, and pushed your hands away from his face. “The thing is, I don’t love you, Y/n,” he said bluntly, his tone sharp enough to cut through the silence.

“And you can’t force someone to love you either.” The heaviness of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and your knees threatened to buckle under the growing ache in your chest.

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair before continuing, “And plus, we’re only eighteen. There’s still so much I want to do, so much I want to experience. Getting into a relationship is a huge commitment, and I’m not ready for that kind of thing right now. We’re young, wild, and free, Y/n.”

His voice softened for a moment, almost as if he was trying to make you understand his point. “I just want to enjoy my life and do what I want before I even think about settling down.”

He studied your face for a moment, his gaze intense but unreadable. “Come on, Y/n, you used to think like that too. What happened to that girl? You’re the one who used to say we’re too young to have these kinds of feelings, too young to get caught up in this kind of drama. What changed? What happened to you?” his voice cracked slightly as he asked, but he quickly masked it with frustration.

You couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Instead, your gaze dropped to the ground as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“But things can change. People can change. Feelings can change. I love you, Mingyu,” you confessed, your words broken by a quiet sniffle.

He scoffed, taking another step back. “Well, I don’t,” he said flatly. “And I need you to stop contacting me from now on.”

His words were final as he walked past you, and you didn’t chase this man this time no matter how much you wanted to. You stayed rooted in place, letting the silence envelop you as you silently cried. For the first time, you realised that no amount of love on your end could ever make him stay.

You stumbled and collapsed onto your knees as sobs wracked your body. Tears streamed down your face, blurring the lights of the city around you. You never loved anyone before, not like this, and you never experienced the gut-wrenching pain of heartbreak either. The sting of rejection pierced deeper than you ever thought was possible. You had no idea what it meant to feel this hollow, this abandoned, until Mingyu.

Some of the things he said still echoed in your mind — they weren’t entirely wrong. You once believed that you were too young for anything serious, too young to tie yourself down.

But somewhere along the way, your feelings shifted. You saw a future with him, imagining moments far beyond your eighteen years. Yet, reality came crashing down. To him, you were never more than a temporary connection, a mistake you had mistaken for love.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (GN)

Genre: Comfort?

Warnings: Slight mentions of depression and anxiety. That’s about it. Sorry for any mistakes

A/N: This has been in my idea folder for so freaking long! This was 100% inspired by “Must have been the wind by Alec Benjamin” such a good song! I hope yall enjoy this!

-🖤

Neither of you really knew each other. Only exchanging pleasantries as you passed by one another. Always a small waves and a smile. You’ve barely even said a few words to one another in the almost year living in the same building. You both keeping to yourselves.

He’s noticed in the past few days of seeing you that you don’t seem yourself. Or at least the small bit of yourself that he knew of. You have seemed really down lately. He even caught you wiping your tears away when he had stepped into the elevator as you got out. He wanted to ask if you were alright but you quickly left the elevator before he could.

His apartment was right above yours he could always hear you talking softly or listening to music. It made him almost calm hearing another person at times.

He hadn’t seen you leave today like normal. You both always leaving for work about the same time. When he had gotten back from work later than normal plopping on his bed he let out a sigh. The quietness becoming deafening around him. The quiet didn’t last long, soft sobs could be heard from below. He knew it was you, he wanted so badly to make sure you were alright. He didn’t know why he cared so much but he did. Maybe it was the way your smile brightened his day. Or the way he secretly hopes to see you before work. You’ve become a daily joy in his life and to hear you crying made him upset.

He got up pacing back in forth wondering what he should do. Would it be weird to check in on you? After the back and forth in his mind he finally made it up. He was gonna check on you.

He knocked on your door, a thousand things running through his mind on what to say. When you finally answered he could see how red your eyes were. Tear stains still lingering on your flushed face. “Uh hi” he said nervously.

“Hi” you said softly back looking anywhere but his face.

“Listen I know we don’t know each other but I could.. hear you crying. Are you alright?” He stammered out.

“I- I uhm wasn’t crying.. must have.. been the wind or something” you lied.

He studied your face for a second knowing damn well that you were lying. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t like crying around anyone, feeling like a burden if you weren’t always just happy.

“Well if you want to talk I’m here” he said with a soft smile. His kind words really jabbing at you. Why was he being so nice? He didn’t know you, he didn’t have to come down. But he did. He came down to basically a total strangers place to see if they were ok. Just the pure sweetness of this made the tears flow again.

His eyes went wide his body moving before he could stop himself. He wrapped his arms around you as you cried making you sob even harder. He rubbed your back letting you get it all out. He pushed your door closed behind him, to make sure no one else would walk by.

“Ssh sh it’s alright, you’re alright” he said softly still rubbing your back. “Wanna go sit down? You can tell me all about what’s wrong if you want. No judgement. I’m here to listen” he said with that sweet smile you’ve grown fond of.

You nodded bringing him over to your couch. As you composed yourself you sighed softly. “Nothings really wrong, I mean.. it’s just..” you tried finding the words. “I have really bad depression and anxiety.. it’s just been really bad the last few days and it all just came crashing down today.” You admitted.

He listened taking your hand in his to comfort you a bit. “You still got up today though, you’re still here and that’s something to be proud of” he said.

His words comforted you even more, making you smile for the first time in a few days. He sounded so genuine.

“And I can knock another one off if you wanna” he said smiling. You looked at him a bit confused. “How about I treat you to some ice cream? Then you’ll have eaten today.. I guess it’s not food food but ice cream makes everything better” he says smiling even bigger.

“You don’t have to do that” you said.

“I know but I want to, plus means we can get to know each other more. Yeah?” He said hopeful.

“Alright” you said smiling at him.

You got yourself together wiping your face and putting on better clothes. “Oh hey, by the way, I’m changbin” he said.

“We really never introduced ourselves huh? I’m y/n” you said.

“Well y/n shall we get some ice cream?” He said putting his hand out.

“We shall.” You giggled.

After this day you both had become really close. Making movie nights and gaming nights. You both always hung out even just coming over to one another’s house to sit in comfortable silence. It was nice. Nice to have someone to talk, nice to have someone there that wouldn’t judge and just be there.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Two

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: drinking, author who is terrible about being consistent with tenses, incredibly down bad main characters (be gentle with Paige and Maya guys, the first love WLW situationship breakup is ROUGH)

Authors note: Not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like it gives a decent amount of context. Prepare for more flashbacks next chapter. Also this is highkey not proofread so … approach with caution there.

August 26, 2023

The drive from Stamford to Storrs is about two hours, traffic permitting. My mom waits approximately 20 minutes before she begins the inevitable interrogation session into the state of my life. More specifically, the train wreck it has become.

“You know, I really think you should consider rejoining mock trial. You loved it for so long, and look how many friends you made.” She rambles, her eyes never leaving I-95. “You probably would have never met Brooke if you hadn’t joined mock trial.”

Brooke and I met as co-counselors at a mock trial summer intensive for high schoolers at Yale the summer after my freshman year of college. Turns out trying to keep track of a bunch of hormonal fifteen year olds is a bonding experience like no other. She quickly became my formerly long-distance best friend and very soon-to-be roommate. 

“I told you, I’ll check it out when I get there.” I say, half telling the truth and half just trying to get her to change the subject. Clearly, my attempt was failing.

“I just want to make sure you’re making the most of college. I know University of Minnesota was not your thing, but I want you to find your why when it comes to Connecticut.”

I sighed. One of the perks of having a therapist as a mother is that you always have someone to listen to your petty problems without judgement. The downside is that she’s always trying to dig deeper, even when I really do not want to. “My why is being close to you. Plus, UConn is close enough to New York.”

“And close to Paige.” This remark nearly makes me choke.

“Mom!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She quickly apologizes, though knowing her she knew damn well what kind of reaction she would receive. I never told her full details of what actually went down between us - maybe because I thought it would be too embarrassing, or maybe because I knew that if she ended up in my mom’s bad graces, there was no coming back from that. All she knew is that at one point we were friends, then we were more than friends, and then things got messed up and we don’t talk anymore. She also knows that I really don’t like talking about it with her. “Does she know you’re coming?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, I didn’t tell her.” 

The last text I had sent Paige was shortly after the basketball player announced she tore her ACL. Despite the tension between us, it felt wrong to say nothing in these circumstances. Basketball was Paige’s world, and I couldn’t even fathom the grief she must have felt. I received a “thank you maya, i hope you’re doing well. miss u” in return. It took everything in me not to call the blonde after reading the last five letters. 

Thankfully, my moms line of questioning ends there, and she returns to the driving playlist we made together the night before, an eclectic mix of 80’s hits with the occasional R&B ballad. Occasionally I hear her sing along, letting the crack of fresh air from the car window flow through her almost-black hair. Some people say I’m basically her twin: same dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and short stature. I just wish I got a fraction of her curves.

The rest of the car ride, I alternate between reading the newest Emily Henry book and messaging Brooke, who has been sending me updates on our new apartment. She moved into a couple of days ago while my mom and I were still on our girls trip to New York City, and her texts ranged from “ill give you the room with the ensuite bathroom if i can have the bigger room” (deal) to “our neighbors are FINE” (knowing her taste in men, doubtful). 

After what feels like too long in the car (maybe I never actually got over my tendency to get carsick), we pull into a lot. there it is: My new apartment, a small building surrounded by others similar to it and tall trees, still wrapped in vibrant green hues untouched by the incoming fall. I hear a yell from across the lot as I step out, but I’m so overwhelmed by the new sensations in Storrs that it takes my brain a moment to process that the tall figure running across the lot with a truly impressive speed was my best friend.

Brooke barrels towards me, wrapping me in a hug that nearly tips me over. “About time you got here!” She grabs my shoulders, her white acrylics a comfortably familiar sensation on my skin, before turning to my mom with her award-winning smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m Brooke. Wow, you could have convinced me you two were sisters. You’re gonna have to give me your skincare routine before you leave.” She gestures to my mom, who giggles. I can tell that her day has been made.

I will never fail to tell Brooke Jones that she is perhaps the most charismatic person I have ever met. When I’m in Mock Trial, I will fight to make my voice heard. Outside of the courtroom, however, I tend to lean on the more reserved side. On the first day of counselor training, it was as if she could sniff out how nervous I was and made it her personal mission to befriend me. And one thing about Brooke: she will make you talk. Somehow I don’t mind it as much when I’m with her. 

So it’s a great sight when Brooke and my mom trail ahead of me, hands filled with various decor items and chatting (I think I hear one of them mention bringing out photos of me in seventh grade, an action I know I will have to intercept later for my own sanity).  

About three hours later, with the hard work of the three of us supplemented by SZA’s discography, my space is set up just enough to where I can sleep comfortably for the next few nights. Brooke pulls my mom in first, after getting her phone number “for emergencies”. Next, it’s my turn. 

“Alright, you know what I’m about to say.”

“We’re not going to throw a party, I know you’re worried about the security deposit.” Behind my mom’s shoulder, I could see Brooke’s brows furrow as she mouthed don’t promise that. 

“No, I meant have fun. Take risks. Find your why,” She grabs my shoulders at the last word for emphasis, and it’s hard to believe that this is my real life and not some after school motivational special. 

We embrace one last time. Despite her cheesy moments, I am reminded just how much I’m going to miss seeing my mom every day. After three years of being in closer proximity to my dad, it was nice to spend the summer in Stamford, my days filled with NYT crossword games by the water and day trips into New York City. This summer solidified that it didn’t even need to be Boston - I was just happier on the east coast. 

“I like your mom, she’s sweet.” I hear Brooke say as we watch the white Toyota leave the parking lot from our third floor window. Our view is perfect, and I picture what it will be like to watch the leaves change from it as the semester goes on. It makes the last few hours of lugging furniture and suitcases up flights of stairs worth it.

“I love her when she’s not trying to psychoanalyze every decision I make,” I chuckle, moving to continue unpacking some miscellaneous items in the kitchen.

Brooke follows me. “Is that what that whole ‘find your why’ thing was about?” 

“Got a whole interrogation in the car. Everyone in my family thinks I’m having some sort of crisis,” I place a stack of plates (a gift from my mom’s boyfriend) in a cabinet. “She even suggested I came here for Paige.”

Brooke stands there, her lips falling into a flat line. She is taking far too long to respond for my preference. My jaw falls, eyes widening. “Stop.”

Brooke lifts her hands in surrender. “Ok, I would be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

My head falls into my hand, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose as my eyes shut. “I swear to god, why does everyone think I chose to go to UConn because of Paige?”

“Maybe because other people definitely have.” Ok, Brooke does have a point. While I have done everything in my power to not think about the blonde, everyone else has been increasingly trying to get in her orbit. I’ve even seen a handful of edits made for her in the past few months as people anticipate her first season back from her injury.

I shake my head. “I’m not that dumb. I’m here for-“

“In-state tuition and to be closer to me and your mom, I know.” Brooke finishes, coming around to wrap one arm around me. It’s her way to both apologize and check in on me. While I appreciate the gesture, a small part of me feels guilty - like I have gotten use to people extending pity to me for one reason or another: my parent’s divorce, the move to Minnesota, Paige, transferring schools. It gets to a point where I just want to win at something.

I lean into her embrace, smelling the citrus in her hair product. “I know I was down bad for a while, but I promise I’m fine.”

I feel Brooke nod above me. “Good, because she’s kinda everywhere on campus. Even if you don’t run into her, people don’t shut up about her.” This was to be expected, a fact I have been preparing myself for months for. I decided it’s just something I’m going to have to get used to, like many things in life.

“Well, why don’t we shut up about Paige and order some food. I’m starving,” I exclaim, moving towards my phone to pull up Doordash. Perhaps my first win can be proving to people that I can thrive at UConn and absolutely not fixate on Paige Bueckers. 

“Okay, okay. You good if we invite my cousin Adria to come over too? She’s chill I swear.” I remember Brooke telling me about Adria last summer, how she was entering her freshman year at `UConn at the time. I nod in agreement, excited to host my first get together in my new space. 

////

Just an hour and a half later, the three of us are sat in the sparsely furnished living room, eating pad thai surrounded by a large collection of boxes. Upon one look at Adria when she stepped through our front door, I could tell her and Brooke were related: both had the same long legs, clear deep complexion and white smiles that looked like they belonged on billboards. Where they differed was in dress: while Brooke wore the same blue sweat set that she helped me unpack in, Adria was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a boho white tank top, a cascade of black and blonde braids down her back and an “A” necklace around her neck. 

Adria is only a sophomore, and yet from the first hour I have known her she appears far more put together than I was at this time last year. It’s evident in the way she talks about her pre-professional sorority, or in the way she talks about getting ahead of internship applications for the next summer. It would almost be irritating if she wasn’t also so charming.

“So what brought you to UConn?” Adria asks me from the other end of the couch. 

“Well, I tried U of M. My dad and his new girlfri… new wife,” The correction felt bitter on my tongue in a way that made me feel guilty. “They live out there, so I got in-state. It just wasn’t for me. I decided to transfer here just in case I still want to go to law school, since my mom lives in-state and I don’t want to go further in debt than I need to.”

“What do you mean if you still want to go to law school?” Brooke questions, her face incredulous. “Wasn’t that your whole plan since you were in, like, fourth grade?”

I love Brooke with everything in me, on the deepest platonic soulmate level there is. I tell her everything - except for the fact that I don’t know if I still want to practice law outside of college. I guess if I said it out loud to her, the girl who I once dreamed of going to law school with, practicing in the same city with before opening a shared practice, it would become more real: that I was seemingly blowing up all I’ve known with no plan B. She already thinks me dropping mock trial is some sign of an incoming mental breakdown.

“I’m just… exploring all of my options.” I muster, though from the furrow in Adria’s brow it must not be as believable as I would have hoped. Judging by the way Brooke’s shoulders appeared to relax, however, it at least worked on her. Eager to switch the attention off of myself, I turn to the younger girl once more. “Adria, what are you studying?”

“I’m kinesiology, trying to become a physical therapist. Maybe do some athletic training?”

Brooke chokes back a laugh, waving her hand. “She’s just saying that because she’s fucking someone on the basketball team.”

If there’s one similarity between Adria and I, it’s the way both of our jaws drop at Brooke’s candor. Her cousin seems particularly taken off guard, throwing her hands up with a, “Jesus Christ, Brooke!”

I can’t help but laugh at the dynamic. “Who is he?”

“She’s on the women’s team.” The word she rings in my ears as my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. I’m literally a lesbian, I thought she was above assuming sexuality based on looks after having it done to me throughout the summer by daddy’s money frat guys in Stamford.  Adria scratched the back of her neck, her cheeks flushing. “Um, KK Arnold?” 

I’ve only seen the name in passing, during a late night scan of the women’s basketball roster that I would never admit to. KK was the new recruit from Wisconsin to my memory … or was it Indiana? 

“She got a job with athletics over the summer. Somehow her and KK crossed paths and they’ve been hooking up since.” Brooke took a bite of her noodles between sentences, filling in the gaps that Adria left. 

“We haven’t even had sex, chill.” Adria held a hand up to her sister, but the shy look never left her face. “KK’s nice though. I think I could really like her, which totally sucks because basketball players aren’t exactly the relationship type.”

“Looks like you both have the same type.” Brooke says through another bite.

Silence falls on the room, followed by a confused “What?” from Adria. 

A part of me wants to be frustrated with Brooke for bringing it up - the last thing I want is to be known at UConn as just a girl who got with the basketball star. However, Adria seems like a kind person, and she did just confide in me about KK. Part of me feels like I owe her an explanation in some sick way. With a sigh, I give her the context. “Brooke is giving me shit because a long time ago, in high school, I kinda had a thing with Paige Bueckers.”

The younger girl looks at me for a beat as if she can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. Once she gets a minute to reboot, she explodes “Like Paige Bueckers Paige Bueckers?Holy shit!”

“Don’t say anything, it was a really, really long time ago,” I plea, recognizing that she was acquainted to one of her teammates. Oh god, the last thing I need is KK telling Paige that her … whatever Adria was … told her that her sister’s friend is still hung up on her or something.

“I won’t, I promise.” Adria holds both hands up, a move that must be genetic. “You’re not gonna hit her up now that you’re on her campus?”

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” I say, taking a bite of my own food. I try to ignore the way my stomach flips at how Adria claimed the entirety of University of Connecticut as belonging to Paige somehow. As if there was no room for me. “She may be great at basketball, but that girl does not do emotions.”

“Well, I’m not exactly surprised.” Adria shrugs. My head snaps back up, and Brooke shoots her cousin a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

Adria continues, “I mean, its not a secret Paige kinda has a reputation here.”

So much for not fixating on Paige Bueckers. My mind races as I ask, “What kind of reputation?” although based on her tone and the context, I can make my own educated guesses. 

“She just gets with a lot of girls on campus.” Adria speaks slowly, her expression somehow guilty. “My freshman year roommates friend got with her. Said she slept with her one night and never talked to her again.”

It’s not like I had no clue that Paige had no issue moving on from me once she got to Storrs. For one, she didn’t seem to have an issue doing such a thing when we were together in the first place. She had also heard rumors through the grapevine at school during her senior year, with people saying that they knew someone whose sister was friends with someone who got with Paige or some outlandish connection like that. Hearing confirmation from someone in Storrs somehow made it more confirmed in my mind. That all Paige wants is to kiss as many girls as possible, touch as many girls as possible, fuck as many girls as possible. Maybe that’s why she started acting so cold and things fell apart. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t enough for her, I can’t help my mind from thinking bitterly. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” I force myself to breeze past the conversation, knowing that I cannot dwell on the past again. After a year or two of trying to figure out where everything went wrong, I have long since realized that there is nothing else to decode. I preferred to think of Paige as a painful memory that I’ve locked far, far away - it was just easier that way. “Who wants to watch a show?”

“You good, Maya?” Brooke asks, a small smile on her face. I know she feels guilty for bringing it up in the first place. But really, I have no reason to be mad: I was the one who ended things, and years ago at that. Being hung up over Paige Bueckers was ridiculous at this point.

“Yeah.” I answer, my voice more sharp than I intended. Fuck. Shaking my head as if to shake off any sort of doubts in their mind, I smile as I stand and walk towards the kitchen. “Believe me when I say I do not care what that girl does. She can do what she wants, and so can I. And what I want right now is to drink some prosecco and watch the Bachelorette.”

The sight of me pulling out the bottle of wine seems to strip Brooke of her doubts, because she agrees with a “Hell yeah, lets do it.”

Thankfully, once the TV is on we all settle into a groove of gossiping about strangers on our TV, not the very real people in our lives. Brooke in particular is enthralled, even though I had to beg her for weeks last summer to give the show a try. Even Adria chimes in as the two contestants cry over these men with a yell of “stand the fuck up!” I am quickly reminded in this moment that these two girls are, in fact, related. At one point in the night, Adria whips out her phone and snaps a photo of Brooke and I, grinning under a pile of throw blankets with our wine glasses in hand, an act I fail to question. After all, she had been checking her phone sporadically throughout the night.

Soon enough, we catch up on the past two episodes, our heads buzzing with the wine we consumed and our eyes struggling to stay awake as we say our goodbyes for the night. Adria pulls me into a hug, my head surrounded by the scent of her vanilla perfume as she whispers, “I’m so sorry about saying that stuff about Paige. You should know you… you absolutely did not deserve that shit, whatever she did. For the record, I think you’re awesome and that its completely her loss.”

I smile, happy to hear her words even if this is just a wine happy trail of thought. “It’s okay, Adria, I promise. It was so good to finally meet you.”

Brooke walks her out, and I can barely make it through brushing my teeth and washing my face before collapsing on my bed. The mattress is not the best quality and Amazon still says my mattress topper won’t be here for a few days, but I drift off easily, my thoughts filled with nothing except gratitude for my first night in Storrs and eager for my new start.

It’s safe to say this feeling does not extend in the morning, when I am awoken by the sun blazing through my window. My mouth is dry as I reach for my phone, eager to check the time and groaning when I see it is only 7AM. My groan is not audible for long, though, as I am quickly silenced by my most recent notification. One that has been awaiting me since 12:37AM.

Paige (DO NOT CALL): You go to UConn now???

August 26, 2023

“Go, go, go… Let’s fucking go Dorka!” I yell, watching as my old teammate scored in a game against the Liberty. It’s the Saturday night before the start of classes, and while the streets of Storrs are filled with people on their first night out of the semester, my teammates and I have all been moved into our current apartments for a little over two months. When your summer breaks are filled with workouts on campus mixed with brief vacations or visits home, that first night out doesn’t exactly carry the same novelty.

Which is why some of us were sat in Nika and Azzi’s living room, game on the TV as the two hosts prepare whatever alcoholic beverage they are subjecting us to from the kitchen separated by a counter. Three of our freshmen sit in the room with us: Ashlynn is on the floor, Ice is right above her on the couch with Aaliyah and Aubrey, and KK is next to me, typing hurriedly on her phone. Being one of the oldest players this year, I feel it’s especially important for me to get to know them - not just how they play, but who they actually are off the court.

“If UConn gets me playing like that,” Ice gestures to the TV, “I’ll know I made the right decision.”

“No turning back now.” Aubrey clapped her on the back, an over exaggerated grin on her face, which Ice responded to by shoving her off playfully. Ashlynn giggles, but doesn’t respond beyond that. It’s not abnormal for her to be quiet - what is abnormal is how silent KK is, her phone apparently more interesting than any of us. Aubrey seems to notice too, because she calls over to her.

“Hey KK, what did you think of that play?” No response. The typically extroverted girl has her chin in her hand, still staring at the screen in her other hand. Ice grabs the nearest pillow to her and throws it at the girl, prompting a jolt and a startled “What?” from KK and a “Ay, cut it out!” from Nika across the counter as she stirs a pitcher of God knows what.

“Bruh, KK, you’re not even watching,” I roll my eyes.

“Probably busy texting her girl,” Aaliyah mutters, although clearly she wasn’t trying that hard to be quiet. Hold up … her girl? Now the entire room quickly turns away from the game and to the freshman, who sits up from her slouched position with a death glare.

“I told you that in private.”

“Yo what? KK, you’ve been on campus for, like, five seconds,” Nika pops in the room.

“Clearly that’s all she needs,” Ice shrugs, earning her the same pillow thrown right back at her.

“Y’all suck,” KK slumps back into the couch, crossing her arms with a slight pout. I feel bad, wondering if we’ve been too hard on the teasing.

“Ok c’mon, we’ll stop. Let’s see her.” I gesture her to bring her phone closer to me, an act that she ignores for now.

“She’s not even my girl,” she mumbles.

“Do you want her to be?” Nika asks, eyebrows raised as she steps closer. All of us watch as KK bites her bottom lip, looking down at her sneakers. Hold on… she’s blushing. I may have only known the girl for two months, but i’ve never seen her do that before.

“Holy shit,” Nika exclaims. “KK’s a lover girl.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, just surprising is all,” Aaliyah clarifies, “not many freshmen are too into settling down.”

I notice Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey turn to face me, their stares deadpan. “What are you lookin’ at me for?” I exclaim, pointing at my chest. The heat rising to my face reveals that it’s no secret, even to me.

“What do you think?” Azzi calls from the next room. I sigh.

It’s no secret among the team (or anyone, really) that I had a pretty… entertaining first two years at UConn. Once COVID restrictions began lifting and the team was able to see other people outside of other players, some of the older players made it their mission to show the younger ones what they had been missing, one of those things being who they were missing. Honestly, it’s what I thought I needed at the time: being trapped in my dorm the majority of the time I wasn’t in practice gave me a lot of time to think, and with thinking came regret. More than once I jolted up in my bed in the middle of the night, dreams of dark hair, tanned skin, and that laugh replaying in my mind. It was torture.

Being in a different girl’s bed every weekend silenced it, just momentarily. Some people viewed me as a player who got off on getting any girl she wanted. The guilt of it finally caught up to me at the beginning of my sophomore year, when I thought about all of the girls I hurt, the ones who thought I wanted more than just one or two nights. It just reinforced my worst fear about myself: I was a womanizer who was incapable of caring about anything aside from basketball. 

“Aight aight,” I surrender, shifting my attention back to KK. “We not talking about me right now. Let’s see her.”

KK unlocked her phone, typing a username into the search bar before handing the phone off to me. Nika and Ice were quickly at my side, craning their necks to see a peek. The girl (Adria Taylor, I discover from her bio) is tall, with deep skin and long braids going down her back.

“She’s so pretty!” Nika gushes, and I would have to agree.

Ice, unable to resist the pink circle surrounding Adria’s profile photo, taps on the waiting story before KK can protest. The phone illuminates with a photo of two girls smiling on a couch, captioned “first night back” with a heart and a couple of mentions, presumably her friends handles. I don’t even need to take a look at what is written, however, because my eyes seem to have zeroed in on the girl further from the camera, and my mouth seems to go dry. It can’t be, but it is.

Because the girl in the photo is Maya. 

“Holy fuck.”

I don’t even realize I’ve said it until the three girls turn to look at me, confusion laced in their faces. “What?” Nika asks, concern evident. My heart is racing at a million miles an hour and my hands suddenly feel impossibly sweaty, but I refuse to reveal myself to them. 

I fake a cough, covering it with one hand while the other goes to scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, nothing. Thought I saw something but um,” Suddenly the sight of my lap clad in Nike tech sweats is the most interesting sight in the world. “She’s cute, KK.”

Almost like some sort of angel sent to save me, Azzi appears with a tray full of drinks that are a bright pink color and look entirely too sweet. “Drink it slowly guys, I’m not really sure I measured correctly.” She looks embarrassed at the admission, passing them around the room. Upon my first sip, I wince. Yep, definitely not too sweet. Will I still drink it? Yes. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good drink go to waste, and I now have something to run from tonight.

We continue watching the game, or at least I am. During commercials I spark conversations with anyone who will listen, including asking Ashlynn about some country concert she went to with her parents over the summer. I don’t even really listen to country, but it was nice to see the typically shy girl light up over something. Plus, it gave me an excuse not to think too hard.

Truthfully by the end of the night I was fucking hammered, not bothering to keep track of how many shots I chased down after whatever concoction Nika and Azzi made. Everyone in the room knew it too, to the point where Nika took it upon herself to walk me back to my apartment once the game ended, even though I only lived one floor down and KK and Aubrey were both still at her apartment. 

After I promised her I would chug some water before bed and take the pain reliever she laid out for me in the morning, she agreed to leave and let me go rest. I collapsed in my bed, which suddenly felt like the most comfortable place I had ever been. My brain, on the other hand, was providing anything but comfort running at around 100 miles an hour. Unable to resist, I look up Adria’s profile on my account, clicking the story. Sober me probably would have thought about how it would look if I showed up in her profile views, but drunk me clearly didn’t care enough. 

Sure enough, she’s sat there with a glass of wine in her hands. My heart jumps as I realize that she’s still just as beautiful as she was when I first met her, just more grown up this time. Her face is all defined cheekbones, glistening eyes, and a smile - God, that smile, that never failed to brighten my day if it was directed at me. It’s been a while since I’ve glanced at her profile - though we still follow each other, she barely ever posts and I don’t remember the last time she’s interacted with anything I’ve posted. Viewing her profile is reserved for nights where I’m filled with just enough delusion to convince myself it’s a good idea. Nope, never is. 

The girl next to her (Brooke, I assume from the tag) is leaning into her slightly in a way that makes my stomach flip. She’s not entirely unfamiliar to me - I’ve definitely seen her in a photo dump by Maya last summer. A part of me wonders if that’s the next girl that gets to treat her the way I should have. What if she came to UConn for her, I think. Nope. Can’t do that. Maya hasn’t been mine, not for a while.

The urge to reach out has died down through the years, going from entirely unbearable at times to more of a constant dull itch that I feel as though I can’t ever scratch. Her texting me after my ACL tear last summer provided temporary relief. I mean, it had to say something that she cared enough to show that she cared. A person that hates me wouldn’t do that.

But then, she never responded to my reply. A person that hates me would do that.

So yeah, there is nothing I want more in this world than to text Maya one last time, just to tell her I’m sorry. That I still think about the way I treated her, and how I’ve been too afraid to be with another girl since I’m worried I’ll do the same thing. That I know I don’t deserve her, not even platonically, but feelings aside I miss being around her. I wish we could be friends again, or acquaintances who occasionally text each other on birthdays and holidays, or something. At the very least, I want her to know I’m sorry.

But beyond everything, I want her to be happy. And if me not talking to her makes her happy, as stated the last time I saw her physically where she stated she “just needed time”, I was willing to suffer through that.

Somehow knowing she could be anywhere right now, even just a short walk away, made the suffering unbearable right now, in a way that I hadn’t felt since freshman year. 

Blame it on the alcohol, or the picture, or whatever you like. Doesn’t change the fact that I opened my contacts in search for one particular one. Doesn’t change the five word text I sent that took an embarrassingly long time to think of. And it doesn’t change how my fingers pressed send before any other doubts could enter my brain. Putting my phone on do not disturb, I plug it in and turn off my lights, deciding that chugging water can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need to sleep off everything I’ve seen tonight and the memory of what I just did. 

[thesassypadawan]

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve (Clay x Wife!Reader)

Summary: It was a sweet, simple question.  One that you really didn’t take seriously at the time.  Considering it came for the lips of your charming, loving husband.  However after the twins had been put down, along with their newborn (2-week-old) sister, and the champagne began to flow freely.  The wholesome, quiet night in you had planned on…quickly transformed into…

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Oral (fem receiving), premature postpartum oral (implied penetrative) smex, hint of a breeding kink, manipulative/possessive Clay, and…  his skilled tongue/thick, long dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track nine of my special holiday mix, What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas and Happy Belated Birthday, @fuckmyskywalker! 🎅)

- “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”  Words muttered against the soft, crimson streaked skin of your soft tummy.  Gravelly voice rumbling through your tired, bloated body.  Sending sparks of apprehensive excitement to your neglected sore core.  “Mmmh…I can think a few things, angel.”  

- Hands massage and knead your ample, plush love handles greedily.  “Clay…”  Lips trailing, placing reverent kisses along the intricate web of stretch marks.  “It’s t-too soon…”   Descending lower, drawing ever closer to that quivering, pudgy mound.  “I can’t…we can’t…”

- Tongue glides across the delicate, see-through fabric.  Wetting, saturating.  Making it stick to your freshly shaven skin, together with your tacky arousal.  “Don’t be ridiculous…”  While his teeth graze over, canines nip lightly.  Gather up, grab hold of that band of frilly lace.  Pulling and tugging.  Tearing the scanty pair he had ‘lovingly’ gifted you for Christmas.  “Of course we can…”

- Hovering mere inches above.  His hot breath fans and washes over your swollen, soaked silt.  “Tonight is for celebrating…”  A hungry look flickering behind those cool, blue orbs.  As he gazes fiercely up at you from his place nestled between your thick thighs.  “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do…”

- Burying his face, he licks and laps…prods and teases.  Pushing past your velvety folds to wrap around, envelope your sensitive bud with his warm tongue.  Sucking lightly, groaning in contentment…unknowingly vibrating, stimulating that little bundle of nerves.  In a way that has your…

- Small hands fumble, lace through his golden curls.  Back arches slightly, hips rock shyly against his face.  “More, m-more…”  Weakly you mewl, eyes sliding shut.  Quickly losing yourself in how he rubs you deliciously, rolls your cute clit perfectly.  “P-please, more…”  So sloppy, so messy; oh, so wonderful.  “P-please, p-pretty please…”

- “Hmmh…since you asked nicely.”  Answering your desperate pleas; mouth suctions, seals over your tiny hole.  Tongue delves deeply, reaches those place that your stubby ones could never manage.  Coaxing the sweetest, filthiest moans from your parted lips.

- Cheeks go flushed.  That familiar heat rises up inside of you, begins to grow overwhelming.  “I…I…”  Arms and thighs start to tremble, shake.  Pace stutters and falters, becomes uneven.  “Ooooh, I…I…”  Gummy walls flutter and clench.  Breaths come out in feeble, shallow pants.  “Hub-Hubby…”

- Palms migrate, cup your full cheeks.  Squeezing them harshly, firmly.  Anchoring you to him, keeping you securely in place.  All the while guiding, moving you faster.  His tongue circling, plunging fervently.  Growling low…into your creamy center…

- Yanking on his locks, pathetic cry escapes…  Legs lock tightly, squishing and smothering Clay’s head with your pillowy flesh….  Gushing, convulsing…  Completely coming unraveled, undone…

- Spent, exhausted…you lay shaking, spread out on the lavish rug.  The heat from the crackling fire seeping into aching muscles.  Casting an orange glow on your sweat covered body.  Milky chest heaving slowly up and down.  “Th-that was amazing, but I don’t think-”

- “What are you doing New Year’s Eve,” he chuckles, muses.  Running his fingers through your puffy lips.  Gathering your sticky slick.  Covering and coating his painfully hard, leaking length in it.  His eyes locking, never leaving yours the whole time.  “Simple.  I’ll be doing the same as last year and the year after that…and after that.”

- Easily hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.  “Pumping you full, making sure you give me another kid.”  He bullies, forces his fat tip in.  “Don’t care what the doctor says”  And all you can do is take it, because…  “It’s how we ring in the New Year, our little tradition…”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @anakinstwinklebunny, @beresfordsgirl, @kenmaiica, @sythethecarrot, @xx-ttamaraa, @everydaydreamer, @rafeswifeyy2, @laoif, @xhunnybeeex, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @reaperr-of-souls, @erosmutt, @r0ttenz0mb1e, @anisdolly, @milliesrealgf, @ala2ilas-s

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj, @harley-kalani

[cl-01-kestis]

Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | Part 2

Summary: After a week of avoidance and contemplation, you finally come face to face with Tom during Slughorn’s Christmas party. Tension runs high, you swear you hate him, but he’s too addictive to resist.

Warnings: heavy romantic tones, enemies to lovers, cat calling, premarital sex, alcohol, fingering, oral (f!receiving), PiV, Tom is not effected by Amortentia in this AU (everyone is over 18)

-

BOOMSHAKALAKA

If your mother happened to know that you’d done in the medical ward the week prior, she would have a stroke, or at least a heart attack. If there’s one thing your muggle parents always taught you never to do, it was premarital physical relations. It was the 1940’s, sex after marriage was the done thing, but it was a bit different in the wizarding world.

Some students at Hogwarts engaged in thrilling affairs in the school bathrooms or their common rooms when no one else was around, but you never considered it until your endeavours with Tom in the infirmary.

You were thinking about him all week, every day, every hour. You avoided corridors he walked through just so he wouldn’t see you. You’d been avoiding class, studying in your dorm and in hidden corners of the library. One of your friends was a prefect for Ravenclaw, so sometimes you crashed her classes and used the prefect common room as well.

Tom noticed all this from afar.

Your avoidance from him made him curious, but inside he was amused. He found your denial of the situation rather interesting, wondering if you still felt any resentment towards him after what happened. To him, he expected you to pull back. He done things to you no man has ever done, you didn’t know how else to react.

You once sat in class together since it happened, both at other sides of the classroom, but the tension was thick and you felt a hot buzz between your thighs the entire lesson. It was hard concentrating on the subject the professor was teaching when you felt Toms eyes on you the entire time. Safe to say you were the first one who left when class ended.

Today, you had to attend charms class after being warned by one of your professors, knowing your attendance would drop if you continued missing out. So begrudgingly, you took your seat as the first student in class and waited nervously for the others to flood in.

You were sitting at the back of class in your usual seat, scribbling down the topic for today and preparing yourself for the lesson when you noticed him walk in.

Tom was laughing with one of his friends, Avery, who always seemed to get on your nerves. The black haired Slytherin didn’t even notice you at the back of class as he took his seat at the front, making room for Avery as the two opened their satchels and took out their jotters.

You looked away from him quickly, already feeling nauseous as you chewed the tip of your pencil. Others came in a short while afterwards and all took their seats, ready for the lesson.

Your professor started the lecture off by asking the class questions to check their knowledge about advanced charms, he bounced about the class until he eventually asked you a question about the Homorphus charm. You answered confidently, but the sound of your voice rattled Tom’s brain out of boredom. He turned his head, eyes wide with surprise as they settled on your figure at the back of the classroom. Your eyes connected for a brief second, but a sharp jolt of electricity flowed through your veins when you saw the way he looked at you.

Tom turned back around in his seat and suppressed a smile, not a smirk, but a relieved smile. He was glad you were back in class, he didn’t want to be the reason you stopped attending and cause a bad grade.

But Tom noticed the heavy blush adorning your cheeks, the dark hue giving away your embarrassment. He turned his attention back to the professor, hiding an amused smirk.

You scurried out of class clutching your jotters and textbooks, red in the face as you targeted the library for some privacy. The air thickened with uneasy tension after Tom noticed your attendance, you felt sweat on your back and in your palms just at the thought. You pulled open the library doors, making sure it shut behind you before you continued forward.

You walked into a random isle and leaned against the books, exhaling loudly but thankfully no one was around to hush you. You were so on edge, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, you had to face Tom again at some point after what happened, but on the other hand it was absolutely terrifying. Your body trembled and behind your eyes flashed the memories of what he did to you.

You looked down at your legs, closing your eyes as you remembered his tongue against your wounded thigh, the way his eyes darkened as his tongue caught your blood. Your grip tightened on your textbooks as you recalled his lips against your most intimate areas, his teeth constantly nipping at you as if he was memorising your taste.

A frustrated sigh left your chapped lips as you pulled up a chair at a free study desk just by the window, opening up a random book and forcing yourself to read the contents. Yet nothing could stop your thoughts pushing their way to your attention, you could practically feel his hot breath on you as you covered your face with your hands.

The memory of him stained your soul, the way he made you feel so vulnerable and defenceless against the hospital bed. He had you in his grip in those moments, making you come undone with just his tongue and fingers, it hurt your ego.

You’d admittedly touched yourself countless times after, trying to match the same orgasms he gave you, but nothing ever worked. The only thing that gave you a brief release was your pillow, but even that was rare due to the other girls in your dorm.

Someone abruptly broke you out of your endless trance, your own friend Samantha, who shared potions class with you. She sat down loudly beside you, startling some other students in the process, and placed her hand on your wrist.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” She chuckled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at you excitedly. You cleared your throat and smiled, turning so you could face her.

“What for?” You asked politely, hoping you didn’t look too suspicious before she arrived.

Samantha closed your textbook and grabbed both of your hands, green eyes glistening in the candlelight above your desk.

“Well, for starters, Slughorns been trying to reach you all week but couldn’t find you at all,” The Slytherin student smirked, noticing your eyebrow raise in question.

“He wants you to attend tomorrow’s Slug club party” Her words caused you to groan, purposefully banging your head against the desk as you realised the party was this close. You knew it was happening before the Christmas holidays, it was Slughorns way of welcoming the students back for another term, you even attended the one last year.

“Merlin’s beard, I didn’t realise it was that close” You leaned back in your seat with defeat, looking at Samantha when she giggled at your reaction.

“I’ve been invited as well so you can borrow one of my dresses if you’re short of things to wear” She offered kindly, but you weren’t even sure if she was the same size as you. She saw the hesitance in your eyes and smiled.

“You can come to my dorm before the party, we can get ready together” She squeezed your hands for reassurance. You couldn’t help but nod, not wanting to disappoint her.

Samantha clapped her hands together, happy with your answer. She knew you a lot better than many people at Hogwarts, she’d been your friend for over a year now and without her you’d stay in your shell. But with her support, you could probably survive Slughorns party tomorrow night.

But as you packed your things and left for your dorm, you stopped dead in your tracks when you realised who was also going to Slughorns party. You felt like one of the castle ghosts face palmed you, you felt so stupid.

Tom was going to Slughorns party too. He went to every one, but never under these circumstances. Everytime you both went previously, the night had been full of snarky comments and comments that could’ve been regarded as bullying. But now, oh, why now.

You walked back to your dorm with your tail between your legs, dreading tomorrow.

-

The next day came too fast, and so did the moons sudden appearance outside Samantha’s dorm window, reminding you of the time. Slughorns party started at 7 o’clock, it was currently 6:15. Since Samantha’s dorm was so close to Slughorns quarters, it would only be a minutes walk.

You were sitting on the floor cross legged beside Samantha, applying makeup next to the small vanity just beside her bed. The mirror was wide enough for the two of you, knees touching and elbows occasionally bumping. You looked on theme, eyes dark with black liner and lips tinted with rose powder. The party was always darkly lit and attendees would always wear black or dark coloured clothing.

Samantha curled your hair and assisted with your outfit. You opted to wear something comfortable, knowing you wouldn’t spend long at the party. You ended up wearing a knee length dress with short sleeves and a square neckline. It was a perfect balance of casual and endearing.

Slipping on your shoes, you followed Samantha out of the girls dormitory and down the stairs into the common room, arm in arm. A few students lounged on the couches, mostly male, and whistled at the two of you as you left the staircase. Samantha didn’t shy away from the attention and blew a kiss at them, but you just smiled and waved, not sure how to react at the sudden attention. The boys continued howling and calling after you, but Samantha quickly dragged the two of you out into the hallway.

The two of you looked at each other and shared a moment of laughter, trying not to be too loud in case they heard.

As you expected, it didn’t take long at all to arrive at Slughorns party. You were the one to knock on the beautifully carved door, hands clutching at the shrug Samantha lent you.

You spoke with Samantha about something not too important before the door was opened, but your blood immediately ran cold as you locked eyes with the person who answered, dark eyes staring right back at you.

Tom’s face contorted into surprise when he saw it was you, realising this was the closest you’d been since last week. The noise inside the party muffled as his lips parted, as if he was going to say something to you.

“Evening Tom” Samantha greeted coldly, breaking the silence as she glared at him with a fake smile. Tom blinked at her, quickly rolling his eyes and opening the door further so you could both walk in. Samantha went first, then you went second.

You walked past Tom and felt your body shudder as you felt his eyes on you, quickly catching up with Samantha who walked straight towards Slughorn. The professor beamed when his eyes landed on the two of you, arms spread before clapping his hands together.

“How wonderful to see you both!” He shook your hands, but his attention was directed specifically towards you.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered from your brief sickness, I hope to see you in my class tomorrow Miss (S/N)” Slughorn teased, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks. You chuckled, playing along with his antics to avoid any awkwardness.

“Of course, professor” You offered your best smile, relieved when he moved onto Samantha who had a few questions for him about an upcoming assignment.

You walked over to Slughorns extravagant fireplace, standing by it to receive some kind of warmth. You rubbed your hands together, holding them nearby the cackling flames which offered comfort.

Someone behind you quietly cleared their throat, but you didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it was.

You suppressed a nervous smile, holding your shawl in your arms as you looked over your shoulder. Tom was already looking straight at you when your eyes locked, his face adorning an undeniably handsome smile. You slowly turned your body around so you were facing him, you briefly allowed yourself to study his appearance, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

Tom cleaned up nicely, wearing black dress trousers and a white button up. He ditched his dinner jacket, his sleeves rolled up halfway and the top button at his collar undone. He wore a waistcoat which only made him look even more delectable. You could barely keep your eyes off him, no one could pay you to look away.

“It’s nice to see you” Tom broke the tension, taking a step forward so he was close enough to touch you. You didn’t move back, looking up as he inspected your face intricately. His eyes trailed down to your lips, noticing the tinge of rose coating them. Tom saw the reluctance in your expression, the fear of questioning what happened in the medical ward a week prior. You weren’t an often vulnerable person, nor were you shy, but in this moment you felt like the world would crumble if you uttered a single word to him.

“Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets even though he wanted to brush the loose strand of hair from your forehead. You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before replying.

“I’ve been fine, my leg healed up nicely” You didn’t mean to sound coy, but you shared a playful smile with Tom as he raised a brow, your minds going to the exact same, dirty place.

“I’m glad to hear, i can see the mark I made didn’t last long either” Tom whispered cruelly, his hand raising to brush just under your jaw, right where he made his mark on you in the infirmary. You shivered at his touch, sucking in a sharp breath as he tucked his hand back into his trouser pocket.

“I had to use some spells to make it heal faster, didn’t want anyone seeing it” You mumbled, aware of the other eyes in the room as other students started filling in. Tom couldn’t stop the smirk that parted his lips, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of passive agreement, even though he secretly wanted everyone to know.

“I can’t argue that, maybe I should leave more next time-“

“Tom” You hissed, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“I’m only joking, I’ll be a gentleman for the evening” The Slytherin prefect offered you his arm with a charming grin, dark eyes enticing you closer. You rolled your eyes and put on your best fake glare, keeping up the act you once had before everything happened.

Samantha was indulging in flirtatious conversation with a year 7 Gryffindor, her eye catching the shocking sight of you and Tom Riddle getting along. She almost let her glass slip from her hand, mouth hanging open as she trailed off her sentence.

It was a strange sight, and you did feel rather strange. You felt like you were betraying the person you were before the infirmary incident; the same person who wouldn’t have touched Riddle even if he was the last thing on earth.

But now the dynamic took a scandalous turn. The person you hated most, more than anyone in the entire world, reduced you to pleasured tears against a hospital bed. Knowing that alone made this moment much more intense, and Tom could sense your emotions just by the squeeze you gave his arm as you strolled around the room.

Slughorn’s eyes lit up when the two of you approached him, his expression twisting into subtle shock when he realised you two were arm in arm. The Professor was aware of the long term rivalry between the two of you, so your sudden closeness came as a surprise to him.

“If it isn’t my best students” Slughorn greeted with a large smile on his face.

“Evening Professor, great party as always” Tom bluffed, earning a wink from the Professor who pat him on the shoulder.

“You flatter me, Tom,” Slughorn scoffed lightheartedly.

“I hope you’re feeling better after that fall you had, Miss (Y/N), I was informed by the healers of your nasty injury” The old man had no clue of the thoughts running through you and Tom’s head the moment he brought up your injury. You had a sudden urge to shove Tom, knowing exactly what he was thinking as he stifled a wicked smirk.

“Thank you, Professor, I’m feeling much better” You assured him with a kind smile, enough to appease Slughorn’s concern.

“I’m glad to hear it young lady, I’m also glad to see the two of you getting along so well” The Professor had a knowing look in his eye, an almost teasing smile growing on his face as you felt yourself blush.

“You could say we’ve put aside our differences” Tom answered, a somewhat ominous tone to his voice. But nevertheless, Slughorn never questioned his favourite student regardless of the suspicion.

“Well, I’m glad! Maybe I should start pairing the two of you together during class” The Professor teased, but a part of you felt inclined to believe he was serious.

Looking at it from Slughorn’s perspective, partnering you and Tom together would make literal and figurative magic. You were both the top students in potions class, but together? You weren’t sure what lengths you could reach.

“I wouldn’t complain, Professor, Miss (S/N) would make an excellent partner” Tom smirked, noticing your fingers slightly tighten against his arm.

“Thank you, Tom” I smile, glancing at Slughorn who raised a playful brow at Tom’s flirty demeanour. Nevertheless, Slughorn kept the idea lingering in his head as he moved onto another student, leaving you and Tom to your own devices once more.

“I think we’d end up killing each other if we were partnered together” You whispered with a quiet chuckle.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right” Tom raised a hand to gently brush a loose strand away from your forehead, a strangely sweet and intimate gesture no one had ever done for you before.

“Your friend- what was her name… Samantha,” Tom sighed.

“She hasn’t stopped glaring at me for the past five minutes, I assume she carries a certain distaste for me?” Tom asked you in a sultry tone, his beady eyes glancing down at you.

“Most likely, she’s probably just confused” You brush off his concerns about Samantha, knowing you would face her wrath the next day.

Just as he was about to reply, Slughorn announced the meal would be starting, beckoning all the students closer to the dining table which was set with delicious food.

You separated from Tom and sat beside Samantha, who blatantly stared you down as you settled into the antique armchair. Her blue eyes felt icy on your face as you turned to meet her gaze, realising she was silently inquiring about Tom.

“Since when did you and Mister Dark and Broody get along?” She muttered under her breath as she took a sip of champagne on the table. You bit your tongue for a few seconds, about to answer when Slughorn pinged his knife against his wine glass, preparing all of us for a speech. Everyone’s mumbling turns into silence as all eyes settle on the potions teacher.

“Thank you all for coming to our Christmas Slug Club party, I’m delighted you all could make it,” Slughorn starts with a dashing smile, his cheeks slightly rosy from all the red wine he consumed.

“Tonight we celebrate the greatness that has come from each and every student sitting at this table. You have all exceeded magnificently in your studies, I am honoured to know such charming students” Slughorn stated with a positively delightful tone. You couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed on your own face, knowing he truly meant it towards every person at the table. Everyone toasted and cheered to his speech, clinking glasses together and mumbling praise before dinner began.

The plates magically blossomed with food, your eyes lit up at the ensemble of delicious combinations and condiments. You didn’t waste a moment, picking at the food politely with your work before taking a sip of wine. Samantha cleared her throat beside you, her eyes already looking at you.

“Continuing our conversation; Mister Slytherin Prefect has a soft spot for you now. When on earth did that happen?” The Gryffindor mumbled as other students dispersed in their own conversations. You sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable.

“One day, we decided to put aside our immaturity and focus on better things. There’s no other reason” You answer, trying your absolute best to avoid any further suspicion. The last thing you wanted Samantha knowing was the truth.

Samantha gave you a sarcastic glare, knowing you were lying to her. But she didn’t pry, instead she dug into her own food and mumbled something to herself, her knife digging into her steak a little too harshly.

As your eyes searched around the table, you immediately looked back down at your plate once you noticed Tom already looking at you. Your neck rose with heat, your ears turned red, it felt so provocative for such a simple gesture. You took a gamble of bravery and looked up once again, this time meeting Tom’s gaze and not looking away.

His gaze was all consuming, his eyes were almost black, peering into the very depths of your soul with just a simple glance. Tom’s presence at the table was bold, he had his friends sitting at either side of him with smug expressions as they looked across the table at other students. But Tom wasn’t interested in anyone else, he didn’t even look at his friends if they spoke to him. He offered the most subtle glance, but it had your heart racing. You could feel your corset become rather suffocating, your chest gently rose every time you inhaled, accentuating your cleavage in the dress you were wearing. Tom didn’t miss that detail. He also didn’t miss the timid posture you expressed after your eyes met.

Dinner had come to an end, you managed to eat most of it but your mind was too occupied with Tom, you ended up skipping desert.

Students moved to the large space in Slughorn’s quarters to dance, a floating quartet playing classical in the corner. Samantha walked over to the dance floor with the 7th year Gryffindor she was flirting with before dinner, you smiled and watched as she made her move. You were standing alone, sipping some champagne, when someone stood beside you. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from smiling, nerves swirling in your belly as you looked up to meet Tom’s eyes. He had his hands in his trouser pockets, casually spectating the fairly busy dance floor before looking down at you.

“Would it be completely terrible to ask you for a dance?” He asked with a smirk, his aura radiating confidence and calculation.

“I think I would rather be set on fire by a Chinese Fireball” You scoff, maintaining a sharp wit like you once had before the infirmary incident. Tom laughed louder than you expected, shaking his head softly as he looked at the dance floor.

“You’d probably end up standing on my shoes, you’d be a terrible partner” He berated playfully.

“I’d purposefully stand on your shoes, I’d also dance in the wrong direction and make a fool of myself” You chuckle, taking another sip of your champagne. Tom bit back a smirk, flashing you another glance before clearing his throat.

“As long as you don’t fall over and hurt yourself again” Tom mumbled, causing your heart to skip as you swallowed your wine. You knew he was referencing last week; your fall and the wound on your leg. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a provocative comment.

“I’m sure you’d like that” You say, keeping your gaze focused on the dancing couples to save some sanity.

“If that means I get to see you sprawled out and whining my name again, then yes” Tom replied nonchalantly, but it almost caused you to choke on your champagne as you sipped on it. Your face burned, your body tingled with goosebumps at the memory. You shake your head, smiling as you turn to look at him.

“I didn’t realise you wanted that to happen again” You reply as casually as possible, but inside your heart was imploding with nerves.

“You thought that was only a one time thing? I’m almost insulted you think I’m that shallow” Tom smirked arrogantly, looking back out at the dance floor as people socialised. You weren’t sure what to say at first, feeling your stomach twist with undeniable desire. Last week, he didn’t even make you touch him. You didn’t even get the chance to unbutton his shirt or unzip his trousers. He placed every ounce of his focus on you, you shivered when you realised it might happen again.

“I didn’t mean to sound ignorant,” You mutter, your tone suddenly much more timid as you clear your throat.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised” You hum, still very unsure how to word your emotions and the attraction you felt towards him. Tom only grinned, chuckling to himself as he watched you struggle to muster the right words.

“You avoided me all week, do I make you that nervous?” Tom suddenly asks, making you blush shamefully.

“You do, but surely you can’t blame me. No one’s ever made me feel the way you have, somehow I resent you for it” I whisper, earning an even wider grin from the Slytherin prefect.

“Resent? Somehow that makes me desire you even more. Tell me, what was the part that made you resent me?” Tom smirked boastfully, turning to face you as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“Its just-… I just feel like it’s so unfair that the person I grew up hating is the one who made me feel so good, I’m not supposed to feel this way towards you” You say, feeling your self composure slip away as you unveil more of your emotions to Tom. He takes a step closer, his eyes burning into yours.

“So that’s it? You’re too full of your own ego, you don’t want to accept that I was the one who had you crying from pleasure, that it was me who effortlessly picked you apart until you were nothing but a shaking mess” Tom’s voice lowered as he spoke, truly testing your composure as you tried to act as normal as possible to anyone outside of the conversation. You could feel your panties pool with arousal just from his words, you could feel the delicious burning twist in your lower belly as you imagined him taking you once again. He knew you were thinking of it.

“You’re insufferable” You whisper, your hands gently shaking as you take a sip of wine.

“I’m honest, darling” Tom replies, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes. You felt like jelly, one move and you’d melt on the floor.

“Meet me in the room of requirement tonight at twelve if you want this to continue, but if not I won’t speak of it ever again” Tom says softly before letting go of your chin and reluctantly pulling away. You wanted to reach out to him, to drag him away and fulfil your shared desires. But now wasn’t appropriate.

You let out a deep breath, your heart racing as you registered what just happened. You already knew your decision, you weren’t going to let Samantha or anyone else stop you.

Speaking of which, Samantha had walked off with the Gryffindor boy, no doubt sneaking off into the girls bathrooms or the potions cupboard. So, you picked up your bag and shawl and left the party without another word. You couldn’t stay there any longer, but you checked the clock and realised it was already 11:35. Your stomach sank, you had to mentally prepare yourself for what was going to happen tonight. No one was looking for you, you’d deal with Samantha in the morning, but Tom was expecting you.

You started walking along the halls of Hogwarts, your heels clicking against the stone flooring. You walked up flights of stairs and passed by common rooms to reach the room of requirement. It was deadly quiet, not a soul roamed the halls apart from ghosts, so you had to be careful.

You came across the room of requirement door, only to find Tom hadn’t arrived yet. You wondered if you should go inside, but how would he know you were there? Shuffling in your spot, you glance at the corridors either side of you, your hands tingling with pins and needles as you try to control your breathing.

You were making the right choice, right? Was there a wrong choice to this situation? Tom made it clear nothing would happen again if you didn’t meet him here, he wouldn’t ever speak of it again. Was that the wrong choice? It felt like it. You felt as though denying your one true desire would be wrong, people are meant to feel like this about someone, eventually.

But Tom wasn’t your suitor. He wasn’t a prospecive partner or a man your parents picked out to court. He didn’t treat you like a lady, he trampled over your victories and spitefully teased you over the past 6 years. What was so tempting about a man like that?

Nothing, really. But what occurred a week prior sent every part of your hatred down the drain towards him. Tom never had a partner, he never showed interest in girls or even boys, he spent his time nestled in books and parchments, huddled away from the world in his own little bubble. So, why did he choose you to torment so wickedly with his tongue and fingers, why were you the only one who experienced his selfless nature? He never even let you touch him, but he touched you like he was obsessed.

“You came” Soft words knocked you completely out of your trance, causing you to jump softly and turn around to meet Tom’s face. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, your hands trembled as you adjusted your grip on your clutch bag.

Tom stood a few meters away from you with his hands in his pockets, a serious expression on his face as the bricks on the wall started moving beside you, unveiling a door which led into the room of requirement.

You looked at Tom, clearing your throat.

“I won’t avoid you anymore,” You say, feeling your throat go dry as he took a step closer. But eventually, the words started bubbling up in your chest, your lips parting as you take a deep breath.

“I-… I can’t escape this feeling, I don’t- shit, I don’t know what you’ve done to me” You stammer, piecing together your emotions as Tom continued walking closer.

“I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried ignoring you, but I can’t stand this tension any longer, Tom” You sigh, your voice becoming more shaky as you realised the proximity between you.

“I need to know if you feel the same, say something please-“ You whisper pitifully, but your words get cut off when you feel Tom cup your face, his other hand sliding around your waist as he leans down to kiss you.

It’s not your average kiss, it’s not the type of kiss you see walking down the street or imagine in a romantic novel. This is a kiss that leaves you frozen, it’s so pleasurably relieving, even as your body melts in his arms as you close your eyes and let your lips mold together. His kiss is hungry, it’s powerful, it’s shockingly debaucherous, but there’s a tender essence as he holds you close and tightens his grip on your lower back.

You wrap your arms around his neck, he gently pressed you against the cobblestone wall next to the room of requirement door as his hands moved to your waist.

This was too much. Surely you were dead. No amount of ecstasy or adrenaline like this could be experienced in a mortal life. Maybe you were dreaming.

“I want to be absolutely certain,” Tom whispered as he trailed his lips down your jaw, his kisses casting a burning path on your skin as he breathed against your pulse point.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, pressing one gentle kiss to your collarbone before pulling back, his black eyes looking into yours deeply. For a few seconds, you forget to reply. Your eyes are half lidded, your breaths are shallow and laboured, did he place some kind of spell on you?

“I’ve never been so sure” You say shamelessly, your hands wandering to his tie and tugging on it, pulling him towards you so your lips were brushing together. You were almost certain you noticed a blush on Tom’s pale cheeks, his lips pulling into a boyish smile before he kissed you gently and took your hand, leading you into the room of requirement.

The heavy door whined loudly as Tom pushed it open, leading you inside before closing it over and turning to face the room. You expected the standard hall full of discarded magical items that had been gathered over the centuries. What you didn’t expect was an entirely new room. It was much smaller, the walls were cobblestone, the low cackling of fire echoed around the room.

Your heart nearly sunk to your feet the moment your eyes landed on… a bed. It was plush, something neither of you could ever afford. It’s frame was rich oak wood with a varnish finish, the mattress was large, could hold at least three. Beside the bed was a cosy fireplace, it’s amber light casting a gentle glow on the room. You were in such shock, you didn’t notice the heavy breath that left your lips as you took a few steps forward.

So this is what the two of you required. Something from your deepest desires, something neither of you could acquire. Neither you or Tom came from aristocracy, you weren’t used to lush beds or warm fireplaces, this was something the two of you desired. The room appeared to know exactly what you needed in this moment, at least that’s what it’s purpose was.

His hands slipped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as his lips grazed the shell of your ear. Suddenly your dress felt suffocating.

“Do you still resent me?” He cooed, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your waist as he looked down at the bed from over your shoulder. You bit your tongue, your hands clammy and your heart hammering wildly against your chest as you softly leaned against him.

“What happens if I say yes?” You whisper, feeling him grin against your skin as his hands move up to the collar of your dress just behind your neck. His nimble fingers begin to undo the buttons down your back, wasting no time as he slid his hands under the fabric and started to untie the laces to your corset.

“I’ll give you a reason to resent me even more” Tom murmured against your neck, his hands teasingly tightening the laces of your corset, causing you to gasp quietly.

“I’m sure that’s not hard” You scoff.

You knew in that moment you should’ve held your tongue, because seconds later you were shoved against the cobblestone brick wall beside the door, Tom’s arms caging you in with no escape.

“So defensive, I’ve always liked that about you” Tom smirked, his hands dragging down the sleeves of your dress until the entire garment pooled around your ankles. You went to hide, but Tom pressed his body against yours and kissed you fiercely, his hands stroking the sides of your corset as you gripped onto his shoulders.

“Oh yeah? What else do you like about me?” You ask sarcastically, terribly out of breath and as bashful as a young schoolgirl. Your words sounded unsure, insecure almost. Tom could practically taste the nerves running through your system.

“Enough talking” He glares, clearly his patience was running thin. You knew he didn’t mean anything serious by his stern tone, it was negotiated from the start this would happen. Maybe he was just as desperate as you were.

You helped Tom remove his shirt, peeling it over his head and throwing it on the floor, discarded and ignored. His lips were on you once more, his hands fumbling with the laces of your corset as he slid his knee between your legs.

“So soft,” He whispers against your skin, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you forward on his thigh, his thumb skimming over the wound on your leg from the week prior. His eyes flashed with something primal for a second, as if he reminisced the taste of iron on his tongue from your bloody hands.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Tom asks quietly as his tongue licks over your pulse, his hands finally untangling the threads to your corset and setting your lungs free from construction. You breathed out with relief, but suddenly you felt so exposed.

“No, Merlin no, you’re doing quite the opposite” You smile bashfully, trying to hide your nerves as you placed your hands on his bare chest. You could feel his heartbeat, it was racing just as much as yours. He was nervous too, if not more, but he was excellent at hiding it.

“Then, I assume you wouldn’t mind me taking this to the bed?” Tom leaned back, looking into your eyes with a boyish glimmer you’d never seen before. No one had seen Tom so gentle, so infuriatingly playful, but you had the privilege of experiencing all of it.

“I’m surprised we’re not there yet” You reply, trying to stifle a smirk as Tom leans into kiss you once again. As your lips press together, he guides you to the bed, kindly offered by the room of requirement, and you feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

You’re wearing nothing but a pair of sheer stockings and undergarments. Your corset has been completely removed, your torso was exposed entirely to his yearning gaze.

He pushes you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours as he moves his hand down to unbuckle his belt. He’s tantalisingly slow, unfair and cruel. You have every right to bite a sharp comment in his direction for teasing you this way, but you can’t find it in you to have an attitude in this moment.

“You’re awfully quiet, what’s happened to that girl with the wicked tongue moments ago?” Tom poked, mouthing along your collarbone as you tried not to squirm beneath him.

“You don’t enjoy my silence?” You scoff, knowing a part of Tom would’ve liked the control he had over you.

“Not really, I find myself missing your brutal comments and shameless taunts… perhaps I’ve truly broken you” Tom chuckled darkly, wrapping his lips around one of your taut nipples as you glare down at him.

“You wish,” You scoff, albeit squirming a little from the sweet pleasure provided by Tom’s lips. Tom smirked against you, playfully biting the sensitive bud.

“Yet I have you right where I want you, I could break you if I wanted” He whispered, hands finally unbuckling his belt and sliding it off in one deft movement. You kept your eyes on his, rather nervous for what’s to come, but he reassured your racing thoughts by kissing back up your heated skin, breathing against your neck in such a provocative way.

“Tell me what you want” He cooed, biting down on your neck and beginning to suck a love bite onto your skin. You suck in a sharp breath, looking at the ceiling.

“I want you to do what you did last time” You say quietly, the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Hmm, what was that? I did a few things last time” Tom replied, pressing your hips together and grinding his crotch against yours.

“That thing with your mouth, you smug bastard” You hiss with annoyance but undeniable arousal, your legs softly shaking from the anticipation.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” Tom taunted cunningly, his body leaning back from yours as he sat back on his knees, looking down at your exposed body.

“I could just say no, give you my cock now and shut you up real good” Tom purred, his clothed erection pressing tight against your pussy. You frown, eyes a little wide from such an obscene comment, but you couldn’t deny the rush you felt from his words. Your silence made him grin, his hand moving down your stomach and eventually against the material of your panties. He caressed you softly there, just under your clit where he felt a damp spot on the lacy garment, a wicked look in his eye.

You fell completely silent, quite overcome with timidness as you shy away from his eyes, looking away and pressing your knuckles softly against your lips.

“Maybe I will give you what you want after all…” Tom whispered, a heady tone in his dark voice. His mouth latched onto your supple skin once more, tongue flicking out to taste the warmth and subtle musk of your natural scent.

He trailed a path of kisses down to your lower stomach, pressing his cheek against your thigh and smiling up at you as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulders.

“Oh I’ve missed this…” Tom groaned, his eyes flickering down to the wet patch on your panties.

You practically melt, stomach fluttering and legs shaking, when Tom suddenly kisses your clit through the material of your panties. You try to close your legs but he’s got them firmly held open, a grunt escaping his lips.

His tongue poked against the fabric, wetting it more with his saliva as he tasted the faint, familiar taste of your slick. He smirked, burying his nose into the fabric and softly inhaling the scent, his own hips bucking in response.

You can do nothing but lie there and take it, your body trembling and your eyes glazed over with intense arousal as you grip tightly onto the sheets.

“Tom, please-“

“Shh… none of that now, darling” Tom cooed, his voice muffled against the fabric of your panties as he grasped your legs and pulled you closer, your legs over his shoulders.

You whine breathlessly, chest heaving softly as you feel your legs tremor slightly, hips gently jutting in response to his obscene display of arousal. But to a certain extent, you couldn’t deny Tom’s desperation, he’d been denied this for long enough, and Tom was never denied. He’ll have you, one way or another.

He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties and pulled them clean off, throwing them to the side. Now, you were only clad in your stockings, cunt exposed to his predatory gaze. You felt so small.

You utter another soft gasp as he kisses the insides of your thighs, his breath hot. Then, as if the string of tension finally snapped, Tom pressed a soft kiss to your clit and practically groaned. His tongue followed shortly after, tasting the wetness of your arousal that had his mind spinning in seconds.

Tom let go of all inhibitions and let loose his control, lapping and sucking at your cunt as if it was his life source. You struggle to breathe properly, heart racing as your eyes roll back, sounds of ecstasy slipping through your swollen lips.

Suddenly the room feels like it’s spinning, you lace your fingers through his black curls and tug helplessly, earning a deep grunt from him as he moved his fingers from your thigh to your slick entrance.

He picks you apart so quickly it’s unfair, you gasp for breath and feel your sight get blurry when he slides his fingers into you and curls against that gorgeously sensitive spot inside you, the one that has your toes curling. Your moans and whines echo around the room, pure music to Tom’s ears as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness. He’s eager to make you cum, but a cruel part of him wants to keep you on edge. Until he can give you his cock and make you feel even better.

“Tom…!” You mewl, hips gently jutting against his mouth, sweet pleasure tearing through your body.

“That’s it” He whispered in a hoarse tone, his lips and chin coated with the essence of your arousal. The look in his eyes made you shiver, a cocktail of pure hunger and craving.

Tom laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand to your lower stomach, just as his tongue curls harder against you and your legs shake badly. His flash of tenderness only makes this moment more addictive.

You pant and whine like a mutt in heat, trembling beneath him and doing your absolute best not cum early. It’s hard, Tom knows this, and he makes it his goal to make this even worse for you.

“Come on sweetheart…” He whispers against your clit, his tongue continuing its cruel assault. Your legs involuntarily shake, your breaths are raspy and uncontrollable.

Soon, that gorgeous pressure in your stomach finally snaps, causing you to cry out with ecstasy. Your gummy walls clench around his slender fingers as he curls them, coaxing every drop of release from you. Your hand fists his hair, but he doesn’t feel pain. He only feels you.

“I can’t-“ You sob, flinching away from his touch as his fingers continue moving inside you. He’s an insistent, selfish glutton.

He removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue that laps unforgivingly at your slick cunt. You feel like you want to scream, the pressure and pleasure like nothing you’ve felt before. Somehow he’s gotten better, or perhaps worse, since the incident in the infirmary.

He hums against you before pulling away, his face flushed and his breathing slightly laboured. With struggle, you open your eyes and gaze at him with a weak stare, your hands still holding his.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly, leaning down to kiss you with his slick stained lips. You kiss him slowly and deeply, tasting your release on his wicked tongue.

You can faintly hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, but he doesn’t break his focus at kissing you. He practically shoves you back onto the bed when you chase after his lips, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down as he struggled to control his rapid breathing.

“Maddening woman,” He grunts with lustful frustration, eyes dark with desire and want.

“You’ve plagued my every thought for the past week, heard your sweet sounds in my dreams” He huffs, his lips and teeth latching onto your jugular as he pushed your legs apart. You trembled, stuttering over unspoken words as his short nails dug into the meat of your thighs, sure to leave bruising.

“Last chance to say no” he pants, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“Merlin Tom, get your bloody trousers off” you hiss, fire in your eyes as you looked up to meet his heady gaze.

“Impatient,” he tutted, but did as you asked in the same breath. He pulled his trousers down, removing his boxer briefs as well which left him bare before you. His cock exposed, adorned by a thick batch of curls.

“Spoiled,” Tom mumbles, offering a few languid pumps to his hardened cock.

“I’d call you a brat but you’d probably enjoy that” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing the tip between your slick folds. But he doesn’t push in, not yet, instead he pays some attention to your chest and litters a few bite marks and hickeys, gently grinding his cock against you, slathering himself.

“Can I…?” He groans against your collarbone, kissing it softly as he lines himself up.

“Please” You plead wantonly, fighting the urge to push your hips towards him. Your body was on fire, it only burned brighter as you felt him push forward slowly, his tip pushing past that slick barrier, sinking into the warmth of your body.

He lets out a ragged groan against your skin, his teeth pinching at the skin of your neck we he held one of your legs further up on his waist, pushing deeper until he hit base.

The two of you shuddered at the feeling, knowing there was no going back now.

“Merlin-“ you cuss silently, your first time done with the quick thrust of Tom’s hips, your thighs trembling. It didn’t hurt, not when he looked after you so, so well before. You only wanted more.

“Take me, please” you whisper with a concept of modesty, although you physically had none left in this space of ecstasy.

He pushed his hips against yours in a sinfully lazy rhythm, just enough movement for you to go hazy eyed and mushy on the inside. You squeaked and grunted but you both knew it wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t enough, but he knew it was necessary for what’s to come.

Tom let out a low rumble, a noise that could pass as a moan, as he closed his eyes and his brow gently furrowed, feeling your warmth around him. The single most addictive and comforting thing he’s felt.

He kissed you, soft and sweet, his breaths growing shallow as his hips gently picked up the pace. Your legs shuddered by his hips, toes curled, lips desperately trying to keep up with his.

“Tom,” you whine, almost like a pathetic plea, your forehead pressed against his.

“I know,” he grunted, pushing his hips intensely against yours, as if to see how deep he could go. He let out a strangled sigh, his black curls now disheveled as his head dropped to your neck, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking a gentle mark as his hips started moving faster.

You gasped and threaded your fingers through his hair, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep you where he needs you. Where he begs you to stay.

The room slowly plumes with sounds of gentle skin slapping and lewd sounds from the both of you, the air heady with desire and need. You cling to him like he’s all you’ve got, your head feeling airy as his hips slam into yours. You choke on your own sounds, sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder to muffle the loud cries your lungs were begging to let out.

Tom’s hand curls around your neck, pushing you away from his neck, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

“Not a chance” he huffs, hooking an arm under your leg and bringing it up to his shoulder, stretching you out to achieve an even deeper angle. You cry out softly, his hand is loose around your neck, but it doesn’t leave. He needs to see you like this, to satisfy the need he’s had for you, for weeks.

The sounds coming from between your physical union are obscene, your walls clenching around him as your body craves for release.

“Please-“ you gasp as his hand tightens on your neck, his black eyes flashing as he hears you.

“What is it, darling?” He coos, although maintaining his pace, his other hand keeping your leg firmly around his waist.

“Faster” you manage out, eyes gentle and bleary, hands shaky as you wrapped one around his wrist. His eyes sharpened, his lips curling into a smile.

“Anything for you” he whispers, wetly kissing your jaw, his hips offering a rough thrust before he slowly picked up the pace by the second.

Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades as you whimpered his name and kissed his skin hungrily, sweat on your skins, eyes glassy, heat rising, rising, and rising.

It went this way for a while, with sinful cries and whines echoing around the room of requirement. He had you right where he wanted you, but he knew you wanted the same. You were perfect, so entirely his.

You struggle to realize how much time is going by, with every movement of his hips and yours. With every heated kiss, every dig of his fingertips and nails, every bite of his teeth, he had you falling harder and harder. In love? You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that he was yours now, and you were his, and this strange connection you had… it was exhilarating.

The night swirled into a hurricane of passion, need, and relief. He didn’t care, or know, about anything other than you in that moment. All he knew was his need for you, the way his voice gasped your name as his hips stuttered, a groan ripping from his throat as he reached the peak of his ecstasy. He kissed you so fiercely you almost became light headed all over again, your arms wrapping around him. You felt the warmth of his release on your stomach, your heart racing and your legs still trembling as you pulled back and watched him with a fixated gaze.

His breathing was labored, just like yours, but he managed the most rugged smile even in a moment of pure ecstasy and content.

“Still hate me?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“With all my heart” You huffed, causing him to laugh quietly, resting his head against your chest, his body slumped on yours. You twirled your fingers through his hair, his eyes lulling shut as he heard the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart.

“Good” He smiled against your skin, just as the candle in the room finally went out.

-

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+ Extended Taglist

[airybcby]

Hello! I just read your “but my luck couldn't get any worse” and I’m obsessed with the crossover idea!

I would like to suggest Nagi with 🍓🍫

And if you cant get to it that’s totally okay ! I will be reading all the other ones anyways 🩵🥰

hi hi!!

a nagi seishiro chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° hang up, give up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — nagi seishiro x gn! reader, gn! reader, i leaned very heavy into nagi being lazy, pls know ik there's more to his character but this made the story flow better, unrequited love, reo mentioned a lot, reo has slight feelings for reader, reader kinda likes reo, mentions of nagi being unhelpful

♡ synopsis — nagi seishiro wasn't known for being the most productive person, but even your feelings for him can't stop you from wondering what life would be like if you were paired with someone else

You didn’t expect much when your name showed up next to Nagi Seishiro’s on the list of marriage simulation pairs.

If anything, it felt like a cruel joke.

Nagi wasn’t someone who made an effort in relationships—platonic or otherwise. You’d known that for years. And yet, despite everything, you’d fallen for him. Slowly. Hopelessly.

He’d always been so unattainable, a puzzle you could never solve.

So when the simulation started, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a program. A grade.

But being in close quarters with him every day made it harder to pretend.

Nagi wasn’t exactly the ideal partner.

He spent most of his time sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone or playing video games.

“You don’t have to do anything for this to work,” he said once, when you suggested setting up a schedule for chores. “We can just...exist. Isn’t that easier?”

You bit your tongue, unwilling to start an argument.

It was so typically Nagi—avoiding effort at all costs. And yet, you couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope in your chest.

Maybe this was your chance to finally break through his walls.

One afternoon, Reo stopped by to check in.

He’d been your friend for as long as you could remember, always lingering on the periphery of your relationship with Nagi.

“Still alive?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Barely,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Nagi, who was curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

Reo laughed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You deserve a medal for putting up with him, you know that?”

You forced a smile, unsure how to respond.

Because lately, you’d started noticing the way Reo looked at you—the way he always seemed to be there when you needed someone.

And it terrified you.

The turning point came during one of the simulation’s mandatory couple tasks: a mock date night.

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get Nagi to engage, but he’d shrugged off every suggestion you made.

“Can’t we just skip it?” he mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.

“No, we can’t,” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “This is important, Nagi. Can’t you at least try?”

He sighed, sitting up slowly. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

But his indifference stung more than you cared to admit.

Reo was the one who noticed your mood the next day.

“You okay?” he asked, catching you in the hallway after class.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired.”

But Reo didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stress out about him. If you ever help to get him to start doing things, I’m here.”

For a moment, you felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar—comfort, maybe.

And it scared you. Because no matter how kind Reo was, your heart still belonged to Nagi.

As the weeks went on, your feelings for Nagi only grew more complicated.

There were moments when he seemed almost...present. Like when he helped you carry groceries up to the apartment without being asked, or when he casually draped a blanket over your shoulders during a movie night.

But those moments were fleeting, drowned out by his usual apathy.

And through it all, Reo remained a constant presence in your life, always there to pick up the pieces when Nagi let you down.

On the final night of the simulation, you found yourself alone with Nagi in the living room, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken truth.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m just...tired,” you admitted finally. “This whole thing—it’s been a lot.”

Nagi frowned, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

For a moment, you thought he might say more. That he might finally acknowledge the connection you’d been chasing all this time.

But instead, he stood up, yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

When the simulation ended, you packed up your things and said goodbye to Nagi without looking back.

Reo was waiting for you outside, his expression a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You could have asked for help with him. I know he's kinda hard to deal with. ” he said again, his voice steady.

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Reo could be what you needed.

But as you walked away, your heart still ached for Nagi—for the boy who would never love you the way you wanted him to.

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

i wrote this very late in the night and idk if i like it

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[fortheloveofarchons]

The Harbinger and His Arranged Bride

(Part 3)

A chapter where the wedding between you and Lord Capitano finally happen! Full chapter on the ao3 link down below!

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Your fingers clench onto the stems of the bouquet as your eyes stare at the large, wooden doors. The entrance to your new life. You then gaze down to your bouquet, which is filled with chamomiles and white roses.

How beautiful, you thought, trying to bring a smile to your face. I thought they’ll use dry flowers as bouquets.

There was some fanfare outside of this church, some cheers and words spoken from the crowd of Snezhnayas’ citizens– personal, lively, interested. There were even a lot of journalists outside, taking bright shots when you stepped down from the carriage and walked to the church, the veil covering your head. 

“Lady Selvadurai! What’s your opinion of being married to the First Fatui Harbinger?” 

“Do you have any plans to stay here after the ceremony? Or are you going to go back to Sumeru?” 

“Tell us! Was it a genuine or an arranged marriage between you two?” 

“Why isn’t your family attending this wedding? Did you forbid them to come?” 

The Fatui’s guards quickly usher you in the church while the journalists’ voices all drown your thoughts. Good thing the church’s door is soundproof. 

You grit your teeth, trying to keep calm as the fear in the pit of your belly became tense, your hands gripping the bouquet so tight that you could feel the stems breaking. You knew there was nothing you could do, but that didn’t stop your eyes from straying over the hallways, searching for any potential exits. 

Before you could take a step back, the echoing sound of the tall, wooden doors slowly opened, which revealed the inside of the church– the altar to your wedding. 

Upon entering, the cool, fragrant air greets you, mingling with the faint scent of polished oak wood and blooming flowers. The aisle stretches forward, lined with delicate arrangements of what seems to be blue and white flowers tied with dark blue satin ribbons. Candles flicker gently in tall, wrought-iron holders, casting warm, golden light over the polished pews.

You look up, gazing and admiring the vaulted ceiling that’s adorned with painted frescoes of what looks to be angels and serene blue skies. The walls are lined with stained-glass windows, each in different poses of Her Royal Highness of the nation Snezhnaya. The dim sunlight streaming through these windows creates colorful patterns that dance on the floors, adding to the ethereal atmosphere of your wedding. 

The choirs of the local children sang in a harmonious choir next to the pews, and you notice that the pews are not even fully filled. Small floral arrangements and ribbons are tied to the ends of each row, adding a touch of elegance for today’s occasion. At most, probably half of each side of the pews are filled. To you left, it’s mostly filled with some of the butlers and maids, most of which you could recognise since they all came from The Captain’s estate. You can’t help but chuckle from seeing them being involved with the wedding too. 

Meanwhile, to your right, it was mostly occupied with some fatui soldiers, politicians, nobles, and– ALL OF THE FATUI HARBINGERS?!?! 

You knew they would be here because, well– this is yours and Lord Capitano’s wedding, after all. But that doesn’t stop your hands from almost slipping your bouquet to the ground from seeing their presence.

You stumble slightly, your white high heels stepping against the red carpet. Try as you may to stare at the ground, but you can’t help but stare at the sight of the rest of the Fatui Harbingers. 

La Signora, a tall woman with porcelain-like skin and high cheekbones, regards you with a cold smirk as her crimson eyes pierces through your soul, puffing up her last smoke from her cigarette holder. Even with her glare, you can’t help but stare at her long, platinum hair and how her light red dress is covered with a long, flowing coat, all donned with glittering jewelry and diamonds. 

She definitely takes on both fights. Your face reveals a tinge of blush underneath your veil.

Next to her, is The Knave, who is literally the opposite of La Signora’s feminine beauty. When your hazel eyes lock with her reddish-criss cross eyes, she gives you a slow, subtle nod of acknowledgement. She wears what looked to be a suit, donned in black and red, and adorned with intricate silver accents and what looks to be Fatui insignias. 

…This one definitely takes on both fights, again. You can’t help but wonder if she was your betrothed instead, but you quickly shake that thought away. 

Begone, fowl thoughts, we are in a church after all. What would The Captain think? 

So far, from what you can see from the women of the Fatui Harbingers, they all look dignified, yet dangerous. 

Beautiful, yet unapproachable. 

That is to say that you haven’t seen Columbina and Sandrone, but because they are much further away from the pews, you could only keep walking forward, and your gaze lands on some of the men of the Fatui Harbingers. 

Lord Childe, a man with the most youthful charm coming from the rest, is the only one that gives what seems to be a confident smile and playful wave towards you. Yet, when he opens his eyes, it immediately makes your smile freeze, as his deep-set, sharp blue eyes are like an endless ocean. You quickly remember that he’s one of the Fatui Harbingers as well, and you immediately avert his gaze. 

Lord Childe’s reddish-orange bangs fall on his eyesight as he watches you from behind. 

Sitting in front of Lord Childe is The Regrator, also known as Lord Pantalone. A man donned with a tailored coat of deep, luxurious hues of black, accented with intricate gold embroidery that traces elegant, swirling patterns along the fabric. It seems that he has never opened his eyes and– Wait, is he blind? Or does he just… not open them? Either way, you can’t help but admire his long, elegant lashes that’s framed behind his pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and his hair is sleek and dark, truly dignified as a Harbinger should. 

Lastly, right next to Lord Pantalone, which is at the front of the pews, is the Director of the Fatui Harbingers, Lord Pierro. 

…Oh sweet archons, what the hell? 

His long silver hair, his well-kept beard, his expression is like a seasoned leader, and his only star-eyed pupil locks with your eyes. Like Lord Arlecchino, he gives you a subtle nod. At this point, is this a nod of preparation? A nod of respect? Or a nod of subtle foreshadowing?  

You internally bite the inside of your cheeks because what in the sweet lands of archons– Why are they all so beautiful and handsome?!?! Ohhh… to be like them, so untouchable and unstoppable. You wish you were them, but you know that you can never be them. There can only be one. And. You. Are. Not. One. Of. Them. 

Your eyes then widen in surprise when you come face to face with… The Captain, Il Capitano. 

Your groom. Your betrothed. Your husband.

“Wow…” You can’t help but whisper it out of your lips, as you take in his appearance. 

While his headgear is still the same shape and colour, his attire consists of an armour that’s crafted from white, matte metal, and a white bodysuit with golden chains and accessories on his chest plate. Although his hair remains untied and unbraided, his black shiny hair remains as silky as always, glistening under the lights from the stained glasses. 

You gaze at him, and notice that what’s draped over his broad shoulders is a long, flowing white cape that pools down onto the floor, lined with golden intricacies that seem to be fatui insignias. 

Before you could continue to gaze at him, a voice echoes through the altar...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60714016/chapters/158486338

Edit: Not sure why but I can't put the link as always from my previous post, will try to fix this issue but for now the fanfic title is just above this post! Sorry for the inconvenience!!

[peachhcs]

I need to see like Blair going to Samy for girl talk and relationship advice. I feel like they would have a super cute relationship.

you guys just read my mind so well because i also got another ask about this :) i feel like blaire is like mack asking will a hundred questions about his sex life but she’s just less blunt about it hahaha but of course samy is more than happy to answer the questions. it makes her feel like a big sister since she’s the youngest

au masterlist

the two girls sat together in the sap center thirty minutes before puck drop. they had been making small talk and talking about their semesters so far when blaire finally found the courage to ask samy the question she’s been thinking about all night.

“hopefully this isn’t weird but did you enjoy your first time?” the dirty blonde asked shyly, her voice low so the others around them wouldn’t catch the conversation.

samy, a bit caught off guard but smiled nonetheless, “yeah, it was fine. why do you ask?”

“oh, i don’t know. i’ve never really..gone that far with a guy before,” blaire admitted almost embarrassingly.

“that’s okay. i feel like people hyping up the first time is always so overrated because there’s no right or wrong way to do it. it’s however you want it to go,” the brunette shrugged a bit. hers wasn’t magical or anything, but the guy she did it with was really kind and made sure she was okay more than anything.

“your first time wasn’t with will?”

“no, it was with this guy i had a small thing with my junior year of high school. he was nice and we’re still friendly with one another,” samy chuckled thinking about tyler and she wondered what he was doing. all she knew was that he was at the university of delaware.

“did it like..hurt?” blaire couldn’t help but ask because obviously she didn’t have a mom to talk about this stuff with and her brothers were definitely out of the question.

“i mean..kind of at first? the pain usually subsides as you keep going but if it hurts at all and you wanna stop, don’t hesitate to voice that,” samy’s never really had someone ask her about this stuff before, but she was more than happy to answer blaire’s questions.

she even got a small wave of deja vu when she was 16 sitting in her kitchen asking grace all the same questions.

“i feel like mack and i wanna take the next step but i don’t think either of us really know how to because we’ve never..” she trailed off.

“it can be awkward at first to talk about it but i guess you just kind of go with the flow? see how everything plays out and if it’s something you really wanna do. once you do it the first time, it kind of breaks the barrier for all the other times.”

“yeah, that makes sense. sorry for bringing it up,” blaire flushed but samy quickly shook her head.

“don’t apologize. asking is important. hopefully i was somewhat helpful,” the brunette giggled and blaire smiled.

“you were, thank you. i feel like you and will are like our older siblings or something,” the thought made both of them smile. with samy and will being the youngest siblings, having someone younger than them look up to them was a nice change of pace after looking up to people all their lives.

“i always wanted a younger sibling growing up because i hated being the youngest,” the youngest hughes laughed.

“i can’t believe you grew up with three brothers older brothers. one was a lot for me,” blaire remembered all the times mason would bully her and carter and boss them around.

“it was definitely an experience, but i love them. they’re my rocks. i look up to them a lot,” samy grinned. she was glad they grew out of the being annoyed at one another phase and could actually get along because quinn, jack, and luke were the whole reason why she was the way she was.

she couldn’t imagine a life without them really.

“i’m glad you have that relationship with them. i wish i had that with mason. ever since our mom died and he went to college, he doesn’t ever talk to me anymore,” blaire frowned. samy frowned too and quickly squeezed her arm.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i’m learning to be okay with it and maybe mason will come around one day,” the figure skater shook her head and managed another smile.

“well, you have us. i can only imagine how much the rest of our friends will like you whenever you meet them. hannah and julianne will love you, i know it,” samy grinned.

“your friends seem so cool. i see you guys interacting on instagram a lot,” blaire giggled, her wide smile returning.

“they’re so crazy, but a good crazy. will’s dev friends are some of my closest friends,” the brunette thought about the boys all the way in boston.

“i bet you get a lot of fans wanting like inside information about them or like rare pictures,” the two girls giggled.

“actually, i’ve learned that some people have found my vsco that i used to post a lot on in high school and they found the craziest old photos of the guys on there. a lot have also found my private spam account requesting to follow to get those pictures too,” samy laughed.

“that’s crazy.”

“yeah, those girls will do anything for pictures of their favorite hockey players. i don’t blame them though.”

“i feel like having a private instagram is so smart though. i’ve never thought of that,” blaire hummed.

“i made it a few years ago because i wanted to be able to post things for just my close friends. fans are crazy detectives though and have found it,” the youngest hughes said with a small shake of her head.

“wow,” blaire mumbled. the two girls glanced back out at the ice to find their boyfriend’s, puck drop getting closer.

they were skating around the ice getting last minute passes in. samy smiled seeing will down there locking himself in to play the sport he loved. her and blaire were sporting their boyfriends’ jersey’s tonight together. with samy there, a few fans recognized her and wanted pictures and with blaire slowly becoming more public, they started recognizing the younger girl too.

“okay, this might also be another weird question, but like..what does it feel like when the guy..you know..” the younger girl didn’t wanna finish the sentence in such a public setting and samy couldn’t help but laugh.

“uh..well..i guess..warm? i don’t know a better way to describe it. usually, you’d like…with them and it’s all just one big good feeling,” the brunette cringed at her words.

“how long does it last for?” blaire raised her eyebrow.

“uh..well..like..a few seconds at least?”

“i’ve heard that it’s normal for guys not lasting a long time,” blaire kept talking and samy flushed. she glanced around to make sure no one was really listening to them.

“your very first times, yeah. it’s fairly normal. some guys will try and build their stamina though,” the soccer player shrugged.

“how long do you and will..go for?..”

another blush coated samy’s cheeks, “it depends i guess. 5-10 minutes?”

“wow. that’s a lot,” the dirty blonde mumbled.

“it all depends on what you guys like you know? some people can go long, some people like to keep it short. will and i are in between i guess.”

“do you guys do it every time you visit one another?”

samy’s face had gotten so red she worried other people would notice, “maybe we can talk more about this in a more private space,” the girl giggled and blaire quickly flushed, forgetting for a moment that they were in a hockey arena full of fans.

“right, sorry.”

“don’t apologize, i like the questions. we’ll keep talking,” samy winked and blaire smiled.

[ninoquincampoix]

wild that i’ve spent almost a year walking around half-asleep with everything dulled by a fog and now suddenly literally overnight i feel cracked open and awake again and the world is spilling back in

[a-s-levynn]

Fighting to forgive yourself for being you

[varjopeura]

.

[kraviolis]

i hate knowing that i would be so fucking good at and have so much fun with GTA RP while also being physically incapable of even trying it out.

[2006aquamarine]

it’s something about being a barb that genuinely fucks with your head

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”