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[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Fallout | Sebastian Sallow x OC #21

this entire chapter is angst and hurt with pretty much no comfort bc sebastian sallow is an idiot.

Summary: Sebastian, wracked with guilt after betraying Evangeline’s trust, seeks her out to apologize, navigating through Ominis’s pointed rebuke and his own self-loathing. He finds Evangeline by the Black Lake, and though their conversation is raw and painful, they begin to bridge the gap between them, with Sebastian vowing to change (again).

Words: 7,782

Tags: Angst, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Unspoken Feelings, Angst AGAIN, Emotional Fallout, Happy(?) Ending, Miscommunication, Drama, Sebastian Sallow Is An Idiot, Ominis Gaunt Being VERY Done™

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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The Great Hall was alive with the low hum of chatter, punctuated by bursts of laughter from distant tables. To most, it was the familiar chaos of breakfast before enjoying the weekend. To Ominis, it was a minefield.

His wand rested lightly against the table, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on its polished surface. His sharp ears picked up the undercurrent of conversation, threads of gossip weaving their way through the hall. He didn’t need sight to know who the subject was—Evangeline, whose name was on far too many tongues this week, and Sebastian, the ever-present chaos at the heart of Ominis’s life.

“…stood up for him like he’s some kind of hero,” someone hissed from the Ravenclaw table behind him, their voice dripping with scorn. “And then he’s caught snogging some fifth-year? Couldn’t even wait for her to wake up. Poor thing.”

Another voice chimed in, softer but no less cutting. “I heard she passed out by the fire and a moment later, he was off with the next Gryffindor. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”

Ominis gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. He carefully kept his expression neutral, though his fingers curled into a fist under the table. These weren’t just idle comments; they were knives, sharp and intentional, aimed at two of the people he cared about most.

Evangeline had always been bold, unflinching in her loyalty to those she called friends, and Ominis hadn’t been surprised when she confronted Lysander to defend Sebastian's honor—Evangeline’s fierce devotion was as much a part of her as her Quidditch skills or her sharp tongue. What had surprised him was how quickly Sebastian had thrown it all away.

Around him, the murmurs shifted, growing louder, like a fire spreading unchecked.

“Did you see how close she was sitting to him before it all went down? Makes you wonder how long he was waiting for her to pass out so he could leave,” someone at the Hufflepuff table said, their voice tinged with curiosity.

Ominis clenched his wand tighter, the cool wood grounding him as his anger simmered. He couldn’t tell what enraged him more—the audacity of the rumors or the fact that Sebastian’s actions made them so easy to believe.

"You'll break your wand if you're not careful," Imelda’s voice was surprisingly warm and low enough not to draw attention. She plopped herself down beside him with the casual confidence only she could pull off.

Ominis loosened his grip and let out a long, steadying breath. “I should hex everyone to make these rumors stop.”

Imelda snorted. “You and I both know the only thing that would stop these rumors is a new scandal. Give it a week—someone else will do something idiotic, and Sterling and Sallow will be yesterday’s gossip.”

Ominis doubted that. The combination of Evangeline’s bold declaration of loyalty in front of the whole school and Sebastian’s reckless behavior had painted an irresistible target on both their backs. The spectacle was too good, the drama too ripe, for people to let it go easily.

Imelda leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “For what it’s worth, the rest of us are doing our best to stop the spread of this garbage. Poppy practically hexed a Hufflepuff who was being too loud about it yesterday, and Natty shut down a pack of Ravenclaws in Charms.” She shrugged. “We’ve got her back.”

It was true. Their group—Natty, Poppy, Garreth, and the others—had done their best to redirect conversations and shut down the crueler remarks when they came up. But there were limits to what even a tightly-knit group of sixth years could do. Hogwarts wasn’t exactly known for its restraint when it came to gossip.

Ominis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—” He cut himself off, unsure how to finish the thought.

Imelda didn’t wait for him to try. “You’re worried about them,” she said simply, as if the thought wasn’t worth debating. “Look, Sterling’s tough. And Sebastian… well, he’s an idiot, but he’s not helpless.”

“An idiot is putting it lightly,” Ominis muttered. “This has hurt both of them. Evangeline’s been humiliated, and Sebastian—” He paused, shaking his head. “He knows he’s responsible, even if he hasn't admitted it.”

“It’s just…” Imelda hesitated, which caught Ominis off guard. She rarely hesitated. “I hate seeing her like this. She’s always been so… sure of herself, you know? I don’t like watching people like her get knocked down because of someone else’s stupidity.”

Imelda’s words hung in the air, heavier than Ominis expected. She rarely let her concern for others show, but when she did, it carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment, his mind turning over her observations.

"She’s been avoiding everyone," Ominis finally said, his voice quiet. "Burying herself in books. She’s retreating."

Imelda sighed, her usual bravado replaced by a rare softness. "And what about Sallow? Is he retreating too, or just digging himself into a deeper hole?"

Ominis let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, he’s digging, all right. Acting like none of this bothers him, flashing that irritating smirk at everyone who dares bring it up to his face. Still choosing to be seen with the same girl he snogged that night. But I know him too well to believe it. It’s a mask." His tone darkened. "The worst part is that he hasn’t even apologized to her. Not properly."

Imelda shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like bloody idiot.

"He’s lucky Sterling hasn’t hexed him," she said. "If it were me, I’d have turned him into a flobberworm by now."

Ominis couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure she's thought about it. But Evangeline isn’t like you, Imelda. She doesn’t lash out when she’s hurt—she pulls away."

"And you’re caught in the middle," Imelda observed, her tone resigned. "As always."

"As always," Ominis echoed, his voice laced with weariness.

Imelda tilted her head, studying Ominis’s face with an expression he couldn’t see but could feel. “So, what’s the plan then, Gaunt? You’ve always got one.”

Ominis frowned, his fingers still idly tapping against his wand. His plan? As if he could snap his fingers and undo the damage Sebastian had caused—not just to Evangeline’s reputation, but to the fragile balance of their trio. “I don’t know if there’s a plan for this,” he admitted. “Evangeline needs space, but if we leave her alone too long, it’ll only get worse. And Sebastian…” He trailed off, the weight of Sebastian’s stubbornness settling like a stone in his chest. “Sebastian needs a proper kick to the head.”

Imelda laughed, though it was short and dry. “If you’re volunteering, I’ll hold your wand while you do it.”

"Too bad his skull's too thick for it to work,” Ominis replied, lips twitching into a faint smirk before fading again. "He knows he’s ruined things; he just doesn’t know how to fix them.”

Imelda leaned back, crossing her arms. “So, no plan?”

“Not yet,” Ominis admitted, though his mind was turning. He wasn’t sure what the right course of action was, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things as they were.

“I’ll think of something." He said at length, "Someone has to.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Imelda said, standing and grabbing her plate. “And when you do get around to kicking some sense into him, make sure Sterling’s around to watch. She deserves the entertainment.”

Ominis leaned back in his seat as Imelda departed, his mind whirring. Someone had to step in. Sebastian was clearly incapable of making the first move, and Evangeline… she was too hurt to reach out herself. And if nothing changed soon, the damage might become permanent.

He pushed his plate away, no longer hungry, and rose to his feet. Raising his wand to guide him, he made his way out of the Great Hall, the chatter behind him fading into a dull roar.

~

The library was quieter than the Great Hall, but it carried its own brand of tension. The soft rustling of pages and the occasional scrape of a chair created an uneasy symphony, one that suited Ominis’s mood. He navigated the familiar aisles, his wand guiding him toward the far corner where he hoped Evangeline would be hiding.

She’d been skipping meals and even classes all week, avoiding crowds and slinking away before anyone could corner her. Ominis had been patient, waiting for her to resurface on her own, but her absence was stretching into worry. The Evangeline he knew—bold enough to face down trolls and outfly Imelda in Quidditch—didn’t hide. It wasn’t like her to disappear—not like this.

Ominis stopped when he reached the corner table and tilted his head, listening for the familiar scratch of a quill or the rustle of parchment. Relief swept through him when he caught the faint, rhythmic sound of writing.

“Still avoiding everyone?” he asked as he approached, his tone carefully casual.

Evangeline paused mid-stroke but didn’t look up. “I’m studying,” she replied, her voice clipped. The quill resumed its steady movements, but there was tension in her tone, a defensive edge that Ominis didn’t miss.

“Studying, hiding,” he said, pulling out the chair across from her and settling into it. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

She let out a sigh, setting her quill down and leaning back in her chair. “What do you want, Ominis?”

He rested his wand lightly on the table, folding his hands in front of him. “To make sure you’re alive. I've been worried.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the books stacked around her. “Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Evangeline,” he interrupted gently, his tone firm but calm. “You can’t keep doing this. Hiding won’t make the rumors go away.”

Her hazel eyes snapped up to meet his, sharp and tired. “What else am I supposed to do, Ominis? Walk into the Great Hall and pretend I don’t hear them? Pretend they’re not calling me an idiot?” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she looked away, her fingers curling into fists on the table.

“They’re cruel, Evangeline,” Ominis said softly. “But they don’t define you.”

“They don’t have to,” she replied bitterly. “I’ve already defined myself—for the whole school. The foolish Gryffindor who stood by her so-called friend who turned Quidditch into boxing, only to find out he doesn’t care. At all.”

“That’s not true,” Ominis said, leaning forward. “Sebastian cares. He cares so much that he’s too afraid to face you and apologize."

She let out a hollow laugh, her expression hardening. “If that’s your attempt at defending him, don’t bother. Actions speak louder than words, Ominis, and his actions have been loud and clear.”

Ominis sighed, rubbing his temple. “I’m not defending what he did. And believe me, he knows he’s made a mess of things. But he’s too much of an idiot to figure out how to fix it.”

“Then that’s his problem,” she said sharply, standing up and gathering her books. “Not mine.”

“Evangeline—”

She paused, her shoulders tense but not turning back to him. “I appreciate you checking on me, Ominis. Really, I do. But I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”

He didn’t stop her as she walked away, her footsteps quick and purposeful. Instead, he sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the wood.

Ominis pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to push the building tension out of his skull. He’d thought that after last year, they could weather anything. But now he wasn’t so sure.

This wasn’t about dark magic or ancient artifacts. It wasn’t about the kind of betrayal you could blame on desperation or fear. This was about trust. And Sebastian had shattered it, not with curses or lies, but with something so mundane it almost felt worse.

Last year, Ominis found himself thinking, when Sebastian did the unthinkable, Evangeline had stood by him.

Ominis could recall the horror of that night with a clarity that made his stomach churn. The dark chamber, the oppressive weight if the the air, and the sickening, searing sounds of the Cruciatus Curse as it tore through her. She hadn’t hesitated to let Sebastian cast that unforgivable curse on her, because she’d believed in him. She’d trusted him enough to endure that kind of agony, certain that he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And later, when Sebastian’s own desperation and grief had driven him to kill Solomon in front of her, she still hadn’t left his side. She’d looked at Sebastian and seen a boy crushed under the weight of his own choices, not a monster, not a murderer. She’d forgiven him.

And now?

Now, after all of that, this—the fallout of one drunken party and Sebastian’s idiocy—felt like an impossible hurdle. And Ominis hated it. Hated the absurdity of it. Hated that something so comparatively trivial could cause this much damage between them.

But then, should he be surprised?

For the past two years, Evie had been the one who stood in Sebastian’s corner no matter what. She’d fought his battles, taken his side, even when Ominis had turned away in anger or disgust. How many more times could she be expected to put herself in the line of fire for him? How many more times could she pick up the pieces of his mess, only to have him treat her loyalty as something he was entitled to, rather than a gift?

Ominis knew Sebastian was a master at self-destruction, but this was different. This wasn’t just about Sebastian’s inability to apologize—it was about Evangeline’s breaking point. And Sebastian had betrayed her. Not in some dramatic, high-stakes moment like the ones they’d faced last year, but in a way that was somehow more personal. More intimate. He hadn’t protected her—not from the rumors, not from humiliation, and certainly not from himself.

Ominis sighed, pushing himself to his feet.

He couldn't allow this to tear their friendship apart. He couldn't let the two people he cared for most drift further away, not when he knew how much they meant to each other—even if they were too stubborn to admit it right now. Evangeline and Sebastian were tangled together in ways they probably didn’t even understand themselves, and Ominis had spent enough time caught in their orbit to know he had to intervene.

Ominis took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening. If there was one thing he was good at, it was cutting through Sebastian’s excuses. He wasn’t sure what he’d say yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be gentle. Sebastian had burned through every ounce of patience Ominis had left. If cruel honesty was what it took to finally get through to him, then so be it.

~

The Undercroft was quiet when Ominis arrived, the stone walls damp with the faint chill that always lingered in the hidden room. His footsteps echoed softly as he stepped inside, his wand guiding him toward the center where he knew Sebastian would be. Because when things got overwhelming—and they always did with Sebastian—he retreated to the Undercroft. It was his sanctuary.

But not today. Today, it would be his reckoning.

Sure enough, Sebastian was there, pacing in agitated circles. Ominis could hear the scuff of his boots against the floor, could feel the restless energy radiating off of him even without seeing it. He stopped mid-step when the wall closed behind Ominis, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them.

“You’re late,” Sebastian said eventually, his voice carrying a familiar edge of bravado. But it was thinner than usual, and Ominis could tell he was barely holding it together.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?” Ominis replied, his voice calm but laced with steel.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re just going to yell at me, save it. I’ve heard enough of it from Imelda, from Poppy—hell, even Garreth had a go at me.”

Ominis took a step forward, “And did any of them get through to you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer right away, his silence telling. Finally, he muttered, “I already know I messed up, Ominis.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Ominis snapped, his frustration breaking through. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Any idea how much you’ve hurt her?”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis pressed on, his tone sharp. “Evangeline has stood by you through everything—through curses, through murder, protecting you from Azkaban. She’s defended you, fought for you when you didn’t deserve it. And now, because of one drunken night and your inability to think past your own damn nose, you’ve humiliated her in front of the entire school.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sebastian said quietly, his voice strained.

Ominis barked out a bitter laugh. “Of course you didn’t. You never mean to. But that doesn’t change what happened. While she was passed out, Sebastian—passed out—you went and snogged some fifth-year by the fire. Do you even realize how that looks? How that makes her feel?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Sebastian exploded, his voice rising. “I—Merlin, Ominis, I didn’t plan for any of this to happen! It just… it just did.”

Ominis took another step forward, his voice cutting like steel. “And instead of fixing it, you’ve spent the last week pretending it doesn’t bother you. Flashing that stupid grin, parading around with the same girl you snogged that night—”

“I’m not parading—”

“Don’t,” Ominis snapped, his tone icy. “Don’t even try to justify it. You’ve made a mess of things, Sebastian. A mess that Evangeline is paying for. And what have you done to fix it? Hm?”

Sebastian exhaled a shuddering breath, his pacing resuming as though the movement could somehow release the weight of Ominis’s words. The silence between them grew heavy again, stretching like a taut wire that threatened to snap.

“Why?” Ominis finally asked, his voice low but unyielding. “Why did you do it, Sebastian?”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his back to Ominis. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if the answer could be wrung out of his skull. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sebastian turned sharply, his frustration bubbling over. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ominis! I was drunk! She was drunk! It just—” He stopped, his fists clenching at his sides. “It just happened.”

Ominis shook his head, unimpressed. "I’ve known you long enough to know that everything you do has a reason—even if it’s a selfish one. So tell me why. Why did you do it?"

Sebastian’s jaw worked as he looked away, his gaze fixed on some point on the floor. Ominis could hear the rapid, uneven rhythm of his breathing, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his frame.

“What were you thinking?!” Ominis pressed, his tone sharp.

Sebastian barked out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You really want to know, Ominis? Fine. I was thinking about myself,” he said, "About what I wanted, about—” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “About what I couldn’t have.”

Ominis clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening around his wand. He knew where this was going, but hearing Sebastian lay it out piece by piece was like watching a slow-motion train wreck.

Sebastian let out a bitter sigh, slumping against one of the stone pillars. “She was… Merlin, Evie was so drunk. But she was happy to see me. She smiled at me like, like maybe she—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening before he forced the words out. “Like maybe she might feel the same way. Like maybe we could actually have a chance.”

“But then she passed out. And I—I should have stayed with her. I know that." He laughed again , the sound hollow and self-loathing. "But all I could think about was what it felt like when she looked at me, when she leaned into me like she didn’t want to let go. And how much I wanted her. How much I couldn’t have her. Because she'll never love me back, Ominis. And I don't deserve her anyway.”

He pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, his words tumbling out in a rush now. “And then I saw someone else, and for one stupid, selfish second, it was easier. Easier to let myself pretend my feelings for Evie didn’t matter, to forget how much I wanted someone I couldn't have and never will. So, yes. I kissed her. I didn’t think about what it looked like, or what it meant, or how much worse it would make everything. I just… did it.” His voice cracked and he turned away, his shoulders trembling with the weight of his confession.

“And now you've ruined everything,” Ominis muttered, his voice low but razor-sharp.

Sebastian flinched, his head dropping. “I know, Ominis. You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“Oh, I do,” Ominis shot back, stepping closer, his tone gaining an edge. “Because apparently, it takes the whole damn school yelling at you before anything gets through that thick skull of yours."

Sebastian turned back to him, his expression anguished. “Do you really think you need to say all this? That I don’t already hate myself?”

“Hate yourself all you like," Ominis said coldly. "But hating yourself doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t undo what you did, and it sure as hell doesn’t make up for the fact that you left her lying there while you went off to satisfy your ego.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his head falling against the pillar again with a dull thud. “How could I leave her there, Ominis? I didn’t even think about what might happen to her. What if she’d gotten sick? What if someone else found her before Natty? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Do you want me to list it all out for you, Sebastian?” Ominis’s voice was sharp and unrelenting, each word like a lash. “Do you want me to spell out exactly what’s wrong with you? Because I will. I’ll tell you that you’re selfish. That you’re reckless. That you’ve let your feelings for Evangeline warp you into someone so consumed by his own desires that you don't even think about the destruction your decisions leave in their wake.”

Sebastian flinched, but Ominis didn’t stop. He stepped closer, his voice deadly calm. “I’ll tell you that you’ve taken the strongest person I know—the one who never wavered, who stood by you when no one else would—and you’ve turned her into someone who hides. You’ve made her doubt herself. Doubt her worth. And why? Because of your selfishness. Because of your inability to think beyond your own wants.”

Sebastian’s shoulders sagged, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came. Ominis’s voice grew colder, his tone cutting like ice.

“You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Not the Slytherins who taunt her about her heritage. Not the gossiping fools who envy her. You. Because she trusted you. She trusted you more than anyone else in this world, and you threw that trust away—for what? A fleeting, meaningless moment of distraction?”

Sebastian’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse.

“Didn’t what?” Ominis interrupted, stepping closer until he was looming over Sebastian, “Didn’t think? Didn’t mean it? Those excuses won’t fix what you’ve done. You can’t undo this with hollow words or promises you’ll never keep.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his head hanging low as Ominis continued, his tone softening slightly but still firm. “You're broken. You’ve been breaking ever since Anne left, ever since Solomon died, ever since you let yourself believe you don’t deserve better. And maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t. You sure as hell don't deserve Evangeline. But she deserves better than the coward you’re being right now.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with the weight of Ominis’s words. For once, Sebastian had no quick retort, no deflections or bravado to hide behind. He stood there, raw and exposed, the reality of his actions settling over him like a suffocating fog.

Ominis stepped back, his expression unreadable. “If you want to fix this, then stop wallowing and do something about it. Not for you—for her. She’s not going to wait for you forever, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked up at him then, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t know how,” he whispered. “I don’t know where to start, Ominis.”

Ominis stared at Sebastian for a long moment. His sharp features softened only slightly, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“You start,” Ominis said, his voice low and deliberate, “By telling her the truth. And then you listen, Sebastian. You listen to what she has to say, and you take it. Whatever she throws at you, you take it, because you deserve it.”

Sebastian flinched at the finality in Ominis’s tone, the weight of his words sinking deeper into the pit of his stomach. His eyes fell to the floor, his shoulders sagging under the crushing realization of just how badly he’d screwed up. “What if she doesn't forgive me?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“I think,” Ominis said, his voice softer now but no less firm, “that Evangeline Sterling has already given you more chances than anyone else ever would. And if you don’t stop wasting them, then yes, Sebastian. She’ll stop listening. She’ll stop caring. And she'll stop forgiving. But you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, the motion heavy with resignation. “I’ll... I'll talk to her,” he said finally, his voice hollow.

Ominis didn’t respond right away. He studied Sebastian for a moment longer, as though weighing his words. Then he gave a short, curt nod. “Good. And Sebastian?”

Sebastian looked up at him, his expression hollow and weary. “Yeah?”

“If she forgives you, don’t make her regret giving you another chance.” Ominis’s voice was like iron, unyielding. “Because if you hurt her again, I won’t forgive you either.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, the weight of Ominis’s warning settling over him like a second layer of guilt. He didn’t reply, and Ominis didn’t wait for him to. With a swish of his wand, the Undercroft’s entrance opened, and Ominis stepped through without another word, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

~

Sebastian woke to the damp chill of the Undercroft, the rough stone beneath him pressing uncomfortably into his back. His neck ached from the awkward angle at which he’d slumped against one of the pillars, and his robes were crumpled, wrinkled from what could hardly be called sleep. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind foggy and disoriented, the weight in his chest a stubborn, familiar ache.

How had he ended up here?

It hit him all at once: Ominis. His words. The cold fury in his voice, the brutal precision of every accusation. The memory surged back like a slap, leaving no room for denial, no way to escape the truth Ominis had hammered into him.

You humiliated her, Sebastian. In ways no one else ever could. Because she trusted you.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand over his face. The coarse fabric of his sleeve scratched against his skin, grounding him against the dull throb of his guilt. He knew he deserved it. Deserved worse, even. But that didn’t make it any easier to breathe.

Sebastian sat up slowly, his body stiff and sluggish. The cool air of the Undercroft wrapped around him, biting through his crumpled robes, but he barely felt it. All he could feel was the memory of Evangeline’s absence—her quiet absence in the hallways, the way her laughter had disappeared from their group, leaving behind a hollow silence he couldn’t fill.

You threw that trust away.

Sebastian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if he could physically push the memories back, stop them from replaying over and over. But they wouldn’t stop, because Ominis had been right. His words weren’t just true—they were inescapable.

Because she trusted you.

The thought alone was enough to drive him to his feet, his legs trembling slightly from the hours he’d spent curled on the ground. He staggered upright, leaning briefly against the pillar for support as his knees protested. His movements were stiff, his body as uncooperative, but he couldn’t stay here.

He had to find her. He had to try to fix this.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning energy as Sebastian stepped inside, scanning the Gryffindor table for any sign of her. His stomach clenched when he saw that her usual spot—wedged between Natty and Cressida—was empty. His heart sank further when he caught sight of the guarded expressions on their faces as he approached.

“Where’s Evangeline?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep and the lingering tension in his chest.

Natty exchanged a glance with Cressida before answering. “We don’t know,” she said carefully.

Sebastian frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Cressida said softly, “that she hasn’t been around much. We didn't see her this morning in the common room, nor in our dorm. She’s barely there. She wakes up before us, goes to bed late, and hardly says a word.”

Her words landed like a blow to his gut. “She hasn’t said where she’s been?”

Natty shook her head, her expression turning to one of quiet reproach. “Sebastian, she’s avoiding people for a reason.”

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He wanted to press them for more, but the look in Natty’s eyes was enough to stop him. She knew what had happened—of course she did, she's the one who found Evie laying there alone—and there was no hiding from the judgment in her eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered before turning on his heel and stalking out of the hall.

The hours that followed were a frustrating blur of dead ends as Sebastian scoured every corner of the castle he could think of.

He wandered through the library first, weaving between the shelves and peering into the tucked-away corners where she liked to study. His footsteps echoed in the quiet space, but no matter how far he searched, there was no sign of her. Madam Scribner glared at him over her spectacles when his whispered inquiries became too loud, and he left before her irritation could boil over into words.

The Quidditch pitch was his next stop, but it, too, was empty, save for a pair of second-years casually tossing a Quaffle back and forth. He lingered at the edge of the stands for a moment, staring out at the expanse of grass, before turning away with a muttered curse.

By the time night fell, his legs ached from climbing stairs and traversing hallways, but his determination remained unwavering. He retreated to the Undercroft once more, hoping that she might show up, seeking the solace the hidden room often provided. But as the minutes stretched into hours, he was met with nothing but the cold, empty silence of the space.

It was in the early hours of morning that Sebastian finally slipped through the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The dim, green-tinted room was nearly empty, save for a pair of fifth-years whispering near the hearth, but Sebastian barely spared them a glance as he made his way toward his dormitory.

He felt hollow, his chest tight with frustration and guilt. Hours of searching had turned up nothing, and the idea of going to bed without finding her filled him with a restless dread.

Pushing open the door to his dormitory, he stepped inside, his gaze immediately snapping to the companion candle on his bedside table. The soft glow of its flame greeted him, flickering steadily. His pulse quickened.

Evangeline was awake somewhere.

Sebastian stepped back into the corridor and closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against it as relief warred with frustration. She was awake. But where?

He racked his brain, thought back to every conversation, every memory they’d shared, searching for something—anything—that might give him a clue of where she might be hiding.

And then, it hit him.

The memory she’d shared with him for his birthday. It had been a beautiful day by the Black Lake in their fifth year, the two of them sitting side by side, staring out at the water as the sky reflected on its surface.

Sebastian pushed off the door, his heart pounding. Maybe she was there. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

The castle was silent as he slipped through its shadowed corridors. Sneaking out past curfew was second nature to him by now, but tonight, his usual thrill of rebellion was absent. All he could focus on was finding her.

The cool night air hit him as he stepped onto the grounds, the vast expanse of the Black Lake stretching out before him. The moonlight danced across its surface, casting rippling reflections that seemed to shift with the breeze. The chill bit at his exposed skin, but he ignored it, his eyes scanning the shoreline.

And then he saw her.

She was perched on a low, weathered rock near the edge of the lake, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the moonlight.

For a moment, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The sight of her after what felt like an eternity apart stilled him, rooting him to the spot. She looked so small, so fragile, her usual fire dimmed into quiet embers.

Sebastian swallowed hard, forcing his legs to move. The crunch of his boots against the gravel shore broke the silence, and he saw her stiffen slightly at the sound. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he knew she knew he was there.

“Evie,” he said softly, his voice barely carrying over the lapping of the lake’s gentle waves.

She didn’t respond. Her gaze remained fixed on the water, her arms tightening around her knees.

Sebastian hesitated, unsure whether to move closer. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong step would send them both tumbling into an abyss they couldn’t climb out of.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he’d been carrying.

“Why?” she asked, her tone flat and distant. The single word cut through him like a blade.

He took a step closer, the cool air biting at his skin. “Because I need to talk to you."

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and devoid of warmth. "What for? To give me some excuse for why you left me there? Why you chose her over me?" Her voice cracked, and she quickly turned away, her hands gripping the fabric of her cardigan - the very same one he'd picked out for her weeks ago in Hogsmeade. And now, seeing her clutch it like armor against him, the memory felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“I—” His voice faltered. He had spent hours in his mind rehearsing what he might say if he found her, but now, faced with the raw pain in her voice and the sight of her curling further into herself, every word felt inadequate.

“You what, Sebastian?” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes, glinting in the moonlight, weren’t filled with the fire he was used to. They were dulled, tired, and red-rimmed from tears. “You didn’t mean for it to happen? You didn’t think it would matter? You didn’t—what? Care?”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly, the desperation in his tone undeniable. “I care, Evie. I care more than I can—” He stopped, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I just… I didn’t think. I was stupid, and I didn’t think.”

“Didn’t think.” She repeated the words slowly, bitterly, her voice dripping with disbelief. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?”

Sebastian flinched, the accusation hitting harder than he’d expected.

“You didn’t think about how I would feel,” she continued, her voice steady but trembling with barely restrained emotion. “You didn’t think about what it would be like for me to hear what you did—to watch you strut around the school with her on your arm and know that everyone was laughing at my expense. You didn’t think about how it would feel to trust you, to stand by you, and have you turn around and… and—”

She broke off, her voice cracking as her gaze dropped back to the water. Her arms tightened around her knees again, her fingers digging into the fabric of the cardigan.

Sebastian took another step closer, his hands clenched at his sides as though he was physically holding himself back from reaching for her. “Evangeline,” he murmured, her full name slipping out instinctively.

"Don't call me that." Her voice cracked, sharp and brittle, as if the words themselves were a shield she had hastily raised.

Sebastian froze.

She had never stopped him from calling her Evangeline—never. It wasn’t just her name; it was his, in a way... something he naturally wielded with purpose. He used it sparingly, reserved for moments that carried weight: when he wanted to tease her into a smile, make her pause and really hear him, or when he needed to say something only she could understand. It was his way of reaching past her walls, of breaking through barriers when she threw them up. Now, hearing her reject it felt like a door slamming shut, leaving him stranded on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, the words rough and uneven.

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the water. “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she murmured. “You’re good at that, you know—saying what people want to hear."

Sebastian stepped closer, “I do mean it,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m sorry, Evang—Evie. For everything. For hurting you. For making you feel like I didn’t care. I... I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to. I need to.”

She let out a hollow laugh, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Fix it? You can’t undo what you did. You can’t un-snog her. You can’t erase what everyone’s saying.”

“I know,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “I know I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try to make it right."

Her head turned slightly at that, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before darting away. “For me, or for you?” she asked softly. “You sure you're not just here to soothe your guilt? To make yourself feel better?”

“No!” he said urgently, stepping closer again. “This isn’t about me, Evie, it’s about you—because you’re…” His voice faltered, and he blinked hard, feeling the sting of tears building behind his eyes. “You’re everything to me, Evie. You always have been.”

Her breath hitched at his words, her posture stiffening as if she were bracing herself against them. “Stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, and a tear slipped down his cheek, warm and bitter against his skin. He wiped it away hastily, as if embarrassed, but his hands trembled at his sides. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” he said, his voice raw. He took another step, closing the space between them, and knelt in front of her. His chest heaved with the effort to keep himself steady, to show her the truth in every fractured word.

Her hazel eyes lingered on the water for another beat, and then she exhaled, her shoulders sinking under the weight of everything she’d been holding back. It wasn’t a collapse, but a quiet unraveling, as though all her defenses were fraying at the edges.

The first tear slid down her cheek, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. It was followed by another, and then another, until her breath hitched, a small, broken sound escaping her lips. She pressed her trembling hands to her face, muffling the quiet sobs that started to spill free.

“Evie…” Sebastian’s voice cracked, raw and filled with desperation. His own eyes burned, his own tears slipping free, but he reached out instinctively, his hand hovering uncertainly over her arm. “Please... don’t cry. I—Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head without looking at him, her face buried in her hands. “You don’t get it,” she gasped through the tears, her voice raw and choked. “You don’t get how hard it is—how humiliated I’ve felt. I was always the one who stood by you, Sebastian. Always. And this... this is what I get for it.”

“You’re right,” he said hoarsely, his voice breaking again. “You’re right about all of it. I’ve been selfish, reckless... I’ve hurt you in ways I don’t know how to fix. But Evie, please believe me—I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.”

His hand trembled as it settled gently on her arm, the gesture tentative, pleading. When her gaze flickered down to it, Sebastian froze, his breath catching in his throat. He braced himself for her to pull away.

For a long moment, she didn’t move, her lips pressing into a thin line. But then, with a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible, she shifted, her body leaning ever so slightly toward him.

He stayed perfectly still, his breath catching as she let her head drop, her temple brushing lightly against his shoulder. He could feel her uneven breaths, the tremble in her frame as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Sebastian,” she said after a long silence, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone now, no sharp edges. Just tired, aching honesty. “You always do this. You hurt me, and then you come back, and somehow, I always forgive you.”

He swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his chest like a knife. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said quietly, his voice rough.

She didn’t respond right away, her silence stretching out between them. The soft lapping of the lake’s waves didn't even fill the void that had grown. And when she finally spoke again, her voice was so quiet he almost missed it.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I keep thinking… maybe this time will be different. Maybe you’ll change. And then... you don’t.”

Sebastian flinched, “Evie, please,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m trying. I know I’ve failed, but I am trying. I swear I am.”

She let out a quiet, hollow laugh, her breath warm against his shoulder. “I think you believe that,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t feel like it from where I’m standing. From where I’m... sitting.” Her lips quirked faintly, though there was no humor in the gesture.

Sebastian’s chest tightened further, his vision blurred by unshed tears, “I’ll do better,” he said, his voice heavy with desperation. “I swear it, Evie. I know I’ve let you down. Over and over. And I hate myself for it. I hate what I’ve done to you. What I’ve done to us.”

She leaned back to look at him and her gaze softened slightly, though the weariness didn’t leave her eyes. “I don’t want you to hate yourself, Sebastian,” she said quietly. “I just… I just want you to stop hurting me.”

Sebastian felt her words sink into him like lead weights, dragging him down with the raw, simple truth of them. Stop hurting me. It wasn’t a demand or an accusation. It wasn’t even spoken with anger. It was a plea—fragile and trembling, like she didn’t even expect it to be possible.

“I will, Evie,” he murmured, his voice raw and unsteady. “I swear it.”

Her lips twitched faintly, though the ghost of a smile never quite formed. “You say that,” she said softly, leaning back against him. “And maybe you mean it. It's just... I don’t think I can take it again if you’re wrong.”

He didn’t respond right away. He didn’t trust himself to. Instead, he let the silence settle between them again, his hand still resting lightly on her arm. He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, the quiet stretching out into a fragile bubble. But eventually, he spoke again, his voice low and steady.

“I’m not wrong this time,” he said, the words more a vow than a promise. “I can’t be. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Evangeline's breath hitched then, and for a moment, he thought she might pull away. But instead, she simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment of his words. A silent understanding.

Sebastian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his hand hesitating before shifting to cover hers where it rested against her knee. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t grip—just let his palm rest there, warm and steady, like an unspoken promise.

“You’re still a bloody idiot,” Evie murmured after what felt like an eternity, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Sebastian let out a faint laugh, the sound rough and cracked but real. “Yeah,” he admitted, his lips twitching into the barest of smiles. “I probably always will be.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hazel eyes searching his face. There was still hurt there, still an ache he couldn’t hope to erase in a single night. But there was something else, too—a flicker of something softer, something that gave him hope.

“Please don’t make me regret this, Sebastian,” she said quietly.

His throat tightened, and he nodded, his eyes locked on hers. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice raw but unwavering. “Not this time.”

For a moment, she held his gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she leaned back into him, letting her arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer.

The tension that had been coiled so tightly in Sebastian’s shoulders began to ease as he closed his eyes, his chin lightly brushing the top of her head. The scent of her hair enveloped him. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he was desperate for until now.

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice soft, “Whatever it takes, Evangeline, I’ll prove it to you. I’ll fix what I’ve broken.”

Her grip on him tightened slightly, and though she didn’t respond, he felt the subtle shift in her breathing. She was letting him in, piece by fragile piece. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A beginning.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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Gryffindor Divider Credit

[purplecelestial-buddy]

It's so funny to me that the fandom has come to see Hirano as a Sasamiya promoter of sorts because while he is, it took him some time to get accustomed to the idea of them together. And while he was never a hater Sasaki's actions towards Miyano certainly used to get on his nerves.

At first he was so worried and probably even felt a little guilty because (as mentioned in the following screenshot) because the only reason why Sasaki knows which class Miya is in, is thanks to him.

But like, that's not the face of a friend that's happy to play cupid and get their two acquaintances together. Not at all, that's the face of someone who puts his sempai-kouhai relationship with Miyano over his (pseudo) friendship with Sasaki.

Hirano from the first chapters would have jailed Sasaki if he were allowed to. (And he has his reasons, Sasaki has been something since the first chapters)

Anyway, the progression of events is really interesting.

He started, quite literally, shielding Miyano from Sasaki.

Then, he came to accept their relationship.

And at the end he really was rooting for them, to the point he ended up outright lying just so Miyano could meet Sasaki and they could talk it out and confess.

[excusemeaminute]

absolutely obsessed with the newest adventuring party being mostly just ally and emily fighting tooth and nail that actually elody is being unreasonable and gerard deserves the world

[laroserie]

— Various x-men characters dating a non-mutant!reader

— characters ; Scott Summers, Peter Maximoff, Kurt Wagner, Hank McCoy

— version with others characters ; not out yet

— warning ; no particular tw. talk about self estimee and doubt. (as always author has not started reading the comics and their knowledge come from the different xmen cartoon and my hazy memories of the film <3) ( also no cartoon gif for peter because i couldn't find any ... is he even in any of the xmen cartoons ), author decided that Peter has self-confidence issues, also Peter part kinda slide tracked and has more about Peter and his struggle than him dating reader whose a human ... sorry! (his part is also a bit short ...)

— Scott Summers

Scott has no particular qualm around you being a regular human, he loves you just as you are, and nothing can change that. That said, Scott cannot help himself but be, patronising at time. In his mind, you being a human just make you be at risks, you can't defend yourself if you get attacked, by others humans or mutants. He doesn't view you as weak, but, he know how fleeting life is. He isn't the greatest at expressing his feelings, and notably his worry for you.

He will also be more protective than if he was with a mutant. And it show in him being at first very against you befriending any others x-men, he very much care for most of them and he loves you very much, but he doesn't want to have those two part of his life mix up. He doesn't want you to get in dangers because of his job, but he also doesn't want you to possibly endanger one of his mission, he wasn't capable of choosing between you and one of his mission. Not to say, you are as or more important than his mission, but he was responsibilities as a X-Men and he cannot forget about them. But that said, with enough asking and pleading, making him crack and let you meet his friends and fellow X-Men.

Talking about you interacting with mutants, Scott will not let any remarks about you - well not being one - slide. He knows and understand why his friends may feel wary of humans, he get it, but you are different. You are quite literally dating him - a mutant, it couldn't make any sense for you to be against them. Scott may let it slide the first time actually, but anymore than that, and he's making them do extra session in danger room - or they aren't allowed in it, depending on who.

In general, there isn't that much of a different between how he treat his mutant or non-mutant partner, he just will be more protective and worried for them. He doesn't feel particularly insecure in your relationship - because of his mutation or your lack of mutation.

Again, he doesn't have any problems with you not being a mutant - he more so has problem being a mutant, not in general of course, but in your relationship yes. Peter can't really give an answer as to why, but if he had to guess it was probably due to this father, and the fact that he didn't want to do anything like his father did, to you. The worst is, he know damn well he isn't anything like him but he can't help but think that way.

He feels like he's going to mess your relationship up, because of what he is. He try to play it off as if it was nothing, but it's a feeling that lingers in the back of his mind often. He never truly wished to be a regular human before, and he still doesn't, but he just want your relationship to be more normal. Which isn't really possible. Peter knows that, he also knows that you don't care, about that kind of thing.

He can mask his doubts and awful self-confidence with his quirky attitude, he can fool most people pretty easily - expect you. At some point, it get to point, where you have to sit down with Peter and try to have a conversation about it, at first he will just act dumb and pretend he doesn't get what you are talking about, but his facade cracks relatively fast.

You listen, his fears and doubts. You comfort him, and assure him, that everything is fine, you reassure him that weither your relationship is 'normal' or not it's the last of your problem. You love him, he loves you and that all that matter in your eyes.

Now, Kurt could be the one that has the most difficulty dating someone that is not a mutant. He could be scared to hurt you more than anything. He's stressing out about doing or saying the worst thing, that will just break everything. One of the reason why he is friend, with his friends is because they share at least one thing - they can all relate on one crucial part of their identity - them being mutant, it's one thing that link them all together and make it at least a little bit easier to connect. You lacking that, make it hard for him. He still loves you all the same of course, but he feels like not being able to share something so crucial is sad.

So he desperately try to make it up in some way, he looks everything he can about your interests to be able to share that with you, everytime you share something about your interests Kurt will make mental note of it. And he will share a lot about what interest him in return. If you speak an another language that he doesn't know, he'll try to learn it, after all what is better than learning the language of your lover! Kurt can even teach you some german if you want to!

He wants something to link the two of you together even more. It's something he heavily crave. To be linked to you, by more than just, your love for each others.

Kurt may feel insecure at time, that you may leave him for well, a regular human, that isn't blue, has five fingers on each hands - he will try to keep it to himself, but he isn't really good at that. His insecurity just overflow and he end up offhandedly asking you while you are hanging out, if you could prefer to be dating a human rather than him. Obviously, you tell him that you don't, and ask where did this idea came from. He feels reluctant to admit as to why he asked. He feels, ashamed ? After seeing your reaction, he feels a bit silly, and even more when you comfort him and tell him that you very much prefer and could always choose to date him more than anyone else just because they are human.

On a more happy note Kurt loves seeing how amazed you are by his mutation, you never really were around mutants before - there isn't actually a ton of opportunity to meet mutants and to know that they are mutants, even if antis mutant politicians like to make people believe the contrary - most humans he met, weren't exactly thrilled by his, but you are the exactly opposite. Even after being together for a while and getting used to his mutation, there is still this curiosity and shine in your eyes when he teleport for example.

He is by far, the most chill about your relationship and you not being a mutant while he is. Well, that is if we are talking about Hank, after he accepted his entire mutation and all, which we are, Hank pre-self acceptance is different deal.

But once, Hank is settled as a scientific and has member of the X-Men, and has fully accepted his mutation, he doesn't personally really care. But sadly, a lot of people seemingly do and that's one thing that annoy him. The worst is it come from both fellow mutants, even his friends and colleagues sometime! And from regular humans. He doesn't really get why people care about him dating a non-mutant or you dating him - a mutant.

He personally try to not let it get to him, and if it does he will do everything but make you suffer because of it. It most often will result in him shutting himself in his lab for a bit of time, to calm down.

And like others, he feels like he needs to protect you because, you are so ... weak in his eyes, not in a bad way of course ! But in comparison to him you are so small and fragile. This cause Hank to usually like putting his arms around you, around you waist or on your back, to show you that he is there, and to show people around that you are his, and that they shouldn't try to hurt you in anyway.

[hirsheyskisses]

When You're Sober.

RORONOA ZORO x READER (short)

Summary: Being Roronoa's childhood friend, he's declared for the world to hear how one day, he's going to make you his wife. As adults, you had assumed he moved on, but as it stands..

A/N: I've had this in my head for AHH so long. So I'm writing it before I go back to requests 🤣

"..are you going to stay this time?"

Child Zoro questioned you. You sighed softly, seeing the tears pricking at his eyes pulled your heart strings in ways the young swordsman couldn't even begin to comprehend. Kuina's funeral had just ended, and Zoro had immediately sought you out. You were a slightly older swordsman pupil, by 2 years to be exact, and Zoro had latched onto you recently, with Kuina jokingly teasing you of how much he liked you. Sure, 11 and 13 weren't too big, but to a kid, it was all the difference. Still though, you couldn't help but care for him.

"..no. I'll be staying at the dojo." You replied, watching him smile, just a bit. You were both still sad after Kuina's death, and you weren't about to leave the mossball all on his lonesome- and you'd grown to like this dojo, as had your father. You were certain you could convince him to stay, rather than travel to another.

"Good! 'Cause I'm gonna marry you one day, so I can't have you leaving!" Zoro declared tearfully, through his shit eating grin, and you quickly angled your head away and growled, "we're not getting married!"

It didn't matter how many times you defended yourself, he wouldn't let up. If flustered and enraged you to no end. No matter how many battles you raged against him, no matter how many times you had him panting and defeated, holding your wooden sword to his throat, no, none of it scared Zoro.

"I'm gonna marry you one day, (Name)!"

Sometimes, Zoro would even sneak into your bed. You realized they were mostly driven by nightmares. You'd hear him slowly open the door, sniffling from tears, and walk over to you. He'd prod your side before diving under the covers with you, snuggling as close to your side as possible. "I know.. you're awake." He'd mumble, wrapping his arms around you. You'd give in, wrapping one around him. "Yeah. Hard not to when ya sneak into my bed." Zoro snuggled a bit closer. "Wanna be close. That's all." You knew it was more. He trusted you. He even began to tell you about the nightmares, and despite yourself, You'd comfort him. Hold him until he fell asleep.

It grew increasingly difficult for you to be mad at him, especially not seeing as it had become almost a game- plus his wholesome and innocent smile was so damn adorable. You figured he'd grow out of it eventually, popping out of nowhere to declare his undying love. Until then, you grew accustomed to him popping out of closets, around trees and doors, and through windows and met his confessions through the clashes of your blades.

As it turns out, Zoro did grow out of it. The two of you had long since left the dojo together, became bounty hunters, and then became pirates on Luffy's crew. Around 16, and you being 18 is when Zoro had began to stop asking, the questions growing less and less often until they had halted altogether, his mind set on fulfilling his promise to Kuina, to become the world's strongest and carry his name to the heavens, where yours was to find the world's wonders, and the blades of your dreams. In fact, the last time he'd done so..

..Zoro had grown. He knew that, you knew that. He'd never let you live down that you're shorter than him, much to your dismay. You both had barely left the dojo, and Zoro had decided the first thing he wanted to do was drink for the first time. So that's what he did. You chose to stay sober, just in case.

What you hasn't anticipated was just how clingy he'd get when he was wasted.

"Hey.." you were leading him back to the hotel, when without any warning, he'd pulled you into an alley and pushed you gently against the wall. Zoro stared intently into your eyes and pressed himself a bit closer, you could smell the alcohol from his breath. "Fuckin- Zoro! What're ya doin?!"

"So cute.." he'd lean in and smell your hair, his earrings glinting in the moonlight, arms keeping you caged against the wall. "I've waited.. s'long. M' even of age now."

He pulled back a bit, towering over you, and you could feel yourself becoming a furious, blushing mess. Zoro himself was flushed, panting softly, lips parted ever so slightly.

"Wanna marry ya. Wanna marry ya s'bad.."

He slurred, and you flushed a deeper shade of red. His hand reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you were frozen for a long moment. Until you finally came back to your senses.

Shoving his face away, you grabbed his arm and began storming to the hotel,

"Stupid mossball! Ask me again when you're sober!"

He never did.

Sometimes you missed it, how close you and Zoro used to be. Sure, you still had complete trust in one another, and always had each other's backs in battle, but it was as though you'd both spoken so much, that you no longer spoke. You'd still train, sometimes even nap in the others presence, but words had become rarer, instead communicating through looks more often than not, quick and brief. You were beginning to miss his voice.

"(Nameeeeeee).. hey. 'chu doin' all alone?"

Speaking of Zoro- he'd joined you on the rail of the Sunny. On the beach, the rest of the straw hats were celebrating with the locals, and said locals had given Zoro an alcohol like no other. Zoro, believing his tolerance was high enough to take it, decided to drink it during a drinking contest. For the first time in a long while, he was wasted. Again.

"Relaxing. It was quite the battle today." You responded, smiling at the swordsman. His swords rested at his side, and your two rested st your side.

"It was.. f'sure." Zoro agreed, leaning against the railing, "you handled yerself good out there." He placed a hand at the small of your back, smiling at you. "Saw the new technique.. should use it against me sometime."

You awkwardly moved away from his hand, laughing softly. "Yeah, sure, when you're sober." His smile fell ever so slightly, and you tilted your head in confusion. "Ya good there, Zoro?"

"No. I'm not."

He responded, and with little warning, he had you in his arms, practically squishing you against him in a fiercsome hug. "Ack! Zoro! Can't breathe!" You yelped, laughing breathily as you struggled to escape his wrath, deciding to worry about him after you could breathe again.

"....why ya talk ta Sanji s'much?"

Zoro growled, loosening his grip and grabbing you by your shoulders, suddenly pushing you away but still holding you, at arms length. "HAH? Fuck you mean?" "It means.. exactly what I'm askin'. You even ditched training the other day.. ta' talk to that damn cook. Why?" He sounded hurt, and you grew even more confused. "'Cause he's my friend? Plus, I've been taking some cooking lessons from him to help out." Zoro scowled, clenching his teeth and flat glaring at you. His grip was tightening to the point it hurt, and you tried not to wince, instead meeting his glare with one of your own. "What's your problem, Roronoa?! They put angry juice in your damn booze?" You placed emphasis on his last name, which only caused his grip to tighten more. You watched as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words to say.

"My problem is, is I wanna fuckin' marry ya, and seein ya with that damn cook pisses me off."

His voice was low, and he loosened his grip, instead opting to massage your shoulders. Yet again, you'd frozen, watching Zoro's glare turn into a pout as he dropped his head.

"I know I know.. ya dont feel the same.. but.. damn it, atleast choose someone better than him."

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You'd never seen Zoro look so defeated, watching him turn his head away. He hasn't given up, but he was about to. Your heart shattered in more ways than one. As his hands dropped from your shoulders, you knew one thing: it was now or never.. but what if these were just..

You reached out and grabbed his hand, staring at the ground. You couldn't look at him- not when he looked like a kicked puppy. "Zoro.."

"...yea?"

"Ask me again. When you're sober. I'll answer you."

Then, you jumped over the edge of the ship, landing on the beach, and ran to join the others, face beet red and guilt boiling deep in your gut.

He didn't. The next day you both went on as if nothing happened. However, after breakfast, Zoro vanished off the ship, alongside Nami. You'd decided to think nothing of it, however, part of you wished, so badly, that you'd just told him. But you had also decided that if Zoro couldn't tell you when he was sober, then it just wouldn't work.

I've loved him for years.. I thought he'd forgotten. God.. I wish I could turn back time, and accept him. I'm a fool.

"(Name)-chan? You're looking gloomy. That damn Marimo do something to you?! I swear I'll-"

Sanji had approached you, and you cut him off with a wave of your hand. "Its.. just a childhood subject came up. It's touchy." You responded, finally removing your gaze from the table to meet his gaze. Sanji sat across from you, "Wanna talk about it?"

"...not sure what good it'll do." You huffed, fidgeting with your hands. For a long moment, Sanji was silent. Which was odd, seeing as he was usually swooning over you, or whisking you away to teach you a new cooking technique.

"..things will work out between you two. Don't worry. He may be a lumbering fool, but he isn't a total idiot." Sanji said, a twinkle in his eyes. You glanced at him, "whatddya mean by that?" "I mean exactly what I said, darling."

You spent the rest of the day wondering what Sanji could've possibly meant. Working around the ship and making sure everything was ready to set sail in the morning, Chopper dancing around your feet as he helped and rambled about medical knowledge.

As time rolled around for dinner, you were moving to the kitchen with the others, laughing with Usopp at Luffy's antics, when all of a sudden,

"(NAME)! hol.. hold on." Zoro came running up behind you, with something held in his hands. Nami wasn't far behind, but she maneuvered around the two of you to stand with the others.

"Fuck.. never doin that again." He grumbled, dropping to one knee and staring up at you, chest heaving, as he pulled out a small box.

"..zoro?-"

"You.. you told me to ask again when I'm sober. So I am."

"Marry me."

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful black and gold ring. You froze, staring at it, and then at the swordsman, who was staring up at you, just as still as you.

He..

"...fuckin' hell Zoro. Yes, I'll marry you."

The grin that erupted on Zoro's face was beautiful as tears spilled from your eye, and your crewmates cheered behind you both as Zoro pulled you into his arms, slipping the ring on your finger.

"SUPPPPER! finally!" "Yohohohoho! I should play some music!" "Damn marimo.. You'd better take care of her!" Their congratulations fell on deaf ears as Zoro held you, burying his face into your shoulder. The growing wet feeling on your shoulder told you one thing: he was crying, too.

"..I love you. So much.. please, stay at my side for the rest of eternity." He whispered, voice raspy, and you melted into his hold,

"Always, and forever. I've always been yours, Zoro."

[jayybugg]

locker room activities

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco hates you.....or so you thought.

Warning: Language, Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Draco (?), Smut (18+), No Specific House Mentioned, Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 2.6K

Note: Hi, here I am back again with another fic. It's not song-based this time, just my feral thoughts taking over for Draco. As always, thank you @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and @cafekitsune for the banner! Enjoy!

Draco Malfoy hated you. 

You weren’t sure why, but you also didn't care enough to find out. In fact, you found amusement in seeing the blonde make a fool out of himself to prove his superiority. The glares he shot your way only made you giggle to yourself as you just simply ignored them majority of the time. But seeing him get riled up even more by your unbothered state always made your day.

"Another day of being an idiot, Malfoy?" you smiled lazily down at him sprawled out on the ground, his failed potion covering him.

"This is your fault! You charmed my potion to explode!" Draco shot to his two feet, glaring at you. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused at what he was even talking about. "Charmed your potion? I just got here.” you paused for dramatics. “After it exploded." You rolled your eyes at the stupidity of his accusation

"All you do is get under my skin and annoy me, Y/L/N." Draco snapped at you.

"I don't even do anything to you!" You felt your anger boil. This boy practically borderlines harasses you every day, but somehow, he was the victim? Makes sense coming from Draco.

"You do a lot of things to me!" Draco yelled at you. The chuckles from his table of friends was enough to turn him red and send him storming out of the classroom.

"Bloody hell is his problem?" You muttered to yourself, sitting down at the desk to start your potion.

You didn't see Draco for the rest of the day, figured that he probably skipped class and called his father to complain or try to get you kicked out of school. You soaked up the peace as much as you could.

"Madam Pince? Do you know where this book may be? I need it for my ancient runes class." You handed the woman a piece of paper with the title scribbled across it.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy checked it out." She returned the paper to you. You groaned softly. Of course, that imbecile had the book that you needed. "Granted, it's overdue, so he needs to return it. Why don't you go get it from him?" Madam Pince asked, looking over her glasses. 

You knew this was her way of getting you to do her job. It was a known fact to everyone that Madam Prince hated to deal with Draco and the rest of his family. 

You sighed, grabbing your stuff to go track down the blonde. You really needed that damn book. "Okay, I got it."

Luna was the first to see you, her smile staying wide. "Hey, Y/N!" she waved at you. Pansy turned at your approach and smiled at you. "Hey, what brings you here?"

"I was looking for you, actually." You leaned against the wall next to the girls. "I hate to interrupt the date, but I need your help, Parkinson."

"With what?" she raised her eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.

"Got any idea where Malfoy is?"

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise. "Why are you looking for Draco?"

"Don't get any ideas, Pans. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince told me to get it from him because it's overdue." You poked the girl's forehead, making Luna laugh and Pansy rolled her eyes. 

"I was just surprised, that's all." Pansy defended herself, "He should be at quidditch practice, but by the time you get to the field, it'll probably be over and you'll have to wait till he comes out of  the locker room." 

"Okay, thanks! Bye, lovebirds." You waved the two girls goodbye, making your way over to the field. 

Just like Pansy had said, by the time you got down to the field the practice was over. You stood by the entrance, hoping to catch Draco when he left and prayed that he had the book on him by any chance. 

"Waiting for a hot date, y/n?" Mattheo asked, walking out with Theo as they exited the locker room first, surprised to see you waiting there. 

"I wish." You rolled your eyes. "Waiting for Malfoy. He has a book that I need and Madam Pince has me doing her dirty work.” 

"Ahhhh." Mattheo and Theo said, simultaneously grinning at you. 

"What?" you raised an eyebrow at them. 

"Oh nothing. This should be the highlight of his day." Theo smiled, patting your head. The two walked off, leaving you confused. 

You continued to wait for Malfoy, watching the rest of the Slytherin team clear out of the locker room. After about another 20 minutes of waiting, you grew tired. 

"What the fuck is he in there doing? His everything shower?" you muttered. You looked around at the empty hallway before sighing and pushing open the locker room door. 

The locker area was completely empty, making you intensely bitter that Draco was probably in the shower. You walked up to his ajar locker to see all the quidditch equipment and no sign of your book. 

"Of course, the asshole doesn't have it on him." You rolled your eyes. You looked around for any sign of him, but you didn't see him. 

You walked closer to the showers, hearing water running. "Malfoy??" you called out, receiving a dead answer. 

He had to be in here. He was the only one who didn't leave the locker room. You moved closer to the entrance of the shower seeing Draco lean against the wall of the shower with water dripping down him. 

You eyed his physique slowly. Sure, the boy was annoying but Merlin, he was fine. 

You couldn't pay too much attention to his physique because your eyes and mind finally registered what he was doing and saying. 

"Fuck, Y/N. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck." Draco cussed, throwing his head back as he jerked himself off. Your eyes widened as you heard your name spill out his mouth. Was Draco getting himself off to the thought of you? 

You cleared your throat loudly. Draco's eyes shot open to see you standing at the entrance and taking in his naked form. 

"Shit! Y/N, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Draco scrambled to turn the shower off and grab his towel. 

"Well, I've been looking for you for probably the past hour or so." You said, your eyes staying trained on him. 

"Looking for me? Why?" Draco asked. He glanced around the showers and out to the locker room, "Is nobody in here?" 

"No, they all left 20 minutes ago. Getting ready for dinner, I assume." You walked closer to Draco, who was unconsciously backing away from you.

You had never seen Draco look scared, almost as if he wasn't sure what to do. 

He looked like prey and you were the predator. 

"W-why were you looking for me?" Draco asked again, as you continued to close the distance between you both. 

You ignored his question, using this advantage to tease him. "How many times have you gotten off to the thought of me?"

Draco gripped his towel tighter, "Don't be foolish, Y/N. I don't get off to you. Never have and never will." 

"I just saw you, Malfoy." You rolled your eyes, looking down at his dick, "And judging by how hard you are, I can guess that maybe this isn't the first time."

"Shit, you can see it through the towel?!" Draco clutched the towel closer to him to cover up the print, "Y/L/N, I'm begging you to just go and never speak about this again." 

"Begging? That's new for you." A devilish smirk took over your features as you took a step closer to him. Draco felt his heart start to pound in his chest. You looked ready to devour him. 

"Is this why you said I do a lot of things to you?" You dragged your finger down his bicep, pushing him against the wall. 

A part of Draco was embarrassed that he got caught like this but the other part of Draco was getting so turned on that if he was given the chance to have his way, then he was going to take it. 

"All this time, you've been so aggravated with me," Your hand fondled with the fabric of the towel that wrapped around his waist, "And it was all because of your dirty little fantasies." 

"Y/N, please...." Draco's voice was soft and desperate. It was music to your ears.

"Please what?" You leaned in to lick softly at his neck, "Come on, use your words. Where's that big voice of yours from earlier?" 

Draco didn't even know what he wanted to say. He couldn't decide if he wanted you to free him or to just have your way with him. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, Malfoy." You whispered into his ear as you continued to tug at his towel.

"Fuck." He was done. Any shred of self-respect or restraint that he had was gone. Demolished. Non-existent. 

"I'm waiting." you said in a sing-song voice. You were enjoying this. 

"Suck me off. Please." Draco said. 

You grinned, tugging his towel down and going to your knees. You licked your lips as you eyed his dick that was harder than you thought it was. 

You coated your hand in spit, pumping him before you licked the length of him slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip, listening to Draco groaned deeply, his hands finding their way into your hair. 

"Stop teasing." Draco muttered, looking down at you. 

"But it's fun." You batted your eyes up at him. 

That look alone almost made him cum. Draco gave you a grunt in response. You smiled, taking him in your mouth, and quickly got to work. 

The lewd and slobbery sounds you were making with Draco's cock filling your mouth mixed with his moans and grunts caused your pussy to drench your panties. You reached around to the front of your school skirt and played with yourself as you continued to suck him off. 

"Fuck, this is better than any dream. Your mouth is amazing. I just want to fuck your face," Draco said, looking down into your eyes that were already on him, "Can I?” 

You nodded, pulling away to catch your breath as Draco gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his dick further down your throat. Draco wasted no time using your mouth to his pleasure, taking joy in the little gagging that you were doing. The sounds of your gags turning him on even more than he already was. 

"Do you like that? Being treated like my fuck toy?" Draco groaned out, watching your eyes gleam with unknown emotion. You hummed in agreement, keeping your eyes on him. 

"Fuck, I'm about to cum," Draco moaned. His dick was hitting the back of your throat, repeatedly and unforgivingly. The closer Draco was getting to his climax, the sloppier his thrusts got. He let out a groan, releasing his cum deep down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, pulling away and wiping the spit that had drooled down your chin to your chest. 

"I've never cummed from head before." Draco admitted, running a hand through his hair. You smiled, feeling your ego boost from his compliment.

"Well, there's a first time for everything." You stood up, gripping his dick that was still hard, "but I don't think it's fair that you get to cum and I don't." 

Draco's eyes gleamed with excitement and lust. He leaned forward to nip at your ear. "Want to know what another one of my fantasies was?" 

You raised an eyebrow at him, curiosity covering your face. Draco smirked as he turned you around to face the wall. 

"It was to fuck you from behind against this wall." 

He didn't waste time lifting your skirt up and sliding your panties to the side. He dragged his tip up and down your folds, making you whimper. 

"Don't be a tease." You groaned. 

"It's fun, remember?" He grinned, feeling his own cocky self return, "But I want to feel you, so I'm going to cut the fun short." 

Draco slid into you, the action creating loud moans from both of you. He started thrusting fast and hard into you. The sound of your skins slapping together and the sounds of your moans filled the room. Any concern you had about someone walking in or hearing you was quickly thrown out the window.

“Fuck." You moaned. 

"You feel so good. So tight and wet. Just for me, huh?" Draco whispered in your ear. 

"Just for you." You whispered back. Draco continued his thrusts, slapping your ass as he went. His name spilling out of your mouth with a string of curse words. 

You clenched around Draco, making him snake his hand around your neck to pull you up against him. "About to cum, baby? Cum on my dick like the good girl you are." 

His words made your orgasm better than you ever thought it would be. 

Draco spun you around and lifted you up, putting your legs over his shoulders and supporting you against the wall as he slid into you once again. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, right there." You moaned as Draco drilled into you, leaving you no choice but to take all of him.

"You take me so well. So wet and so pretty." Draco covered your neck in kisses and marks before crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues explored each other's mouth as Draco continued to thrust into you roughly. It didn't take long for you and Draco to get close to your climax again.

“I’m going to fill you up. Have you walking out of this room full of me, and me only.” Draco grunted in your ear.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered, “Please do it.” 

 Draco groaned, releasing again inside of you. He pulled out of you and dropped you down to the ground softly. You gripped his arm and the wall for balance as your legs were shaking and you couldn't walk properly.

"If someone would've told me this morning that by the end of the day I would've fucked Draco Malfoy, I would've called them insane." You said, regaining your normal breathing patterns.

"I could say the same." Draco chuckled. He quickly wrapped a towel around him, looking down at you. "Your shirt is wet from the shower and the spit. Here, let me get my hoodie for you to wear." 

You blushed as Draco pulled you to the locker area, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over your head. 

"Thank you." You adjusted the hoodie. "So, you never answered my question."

Draco raised an eyebrow at you, pulling on his clothes quickly. "What question?" 

"How long have you been having dreams about me?"

Draco paused, redness creeping up his neck, "I was hoping I would fuck you hard enough to make you forget." 

"Oh, I'll never forget this." 

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbing his bag, "I don't remember when they started or even when I felt an attraction to you. I just know that every night, upon recently, it's always just been you." 

You nodded, gathering your stuff, "Well, hope it was better than you could've ever imagined."

"Oh, it was," Draco said, "You never answered my question either. Why were you in here in the first place?" A smile took over your face as you looked up at Draco with a mischievous expression.

"You checked out the book for the Ancient Runes homework. Madam Pince said it was overdue and since I need it, she sent me to get it from you." 

"I don't have it on me," Draco said. 

You smiled, walking to the door, "Oh, I know. I'll come around your dorm later and get it from you."

You pushed the door open and threw a wink his way. Draco let out a deep sigh as he leaned against his locker. 

You were going to be the death of him.

[rowretro]

𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪

𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙍𝙄𝙆𝙄 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙐 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙃𝙀'𝙎 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𓆩♡𓆪 ☽⋆˚｡⋆˚.

✰warnings: yandere themes, kissing, making out ish, a lot of fluff after they makeup<3

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Why would y/n care if the man who hurt her, kidnapped her, forced her to live with him in his home to go see other women? she hates him after all doesn't she? she wishes she does, but she just can't. He's so sweet to her despite the fact he abducted her purely because he loves her, he stopped his obsessive killing of men who even look in her direction, and now he even trusts her enough to leave, just the bedroom door unlocked. He literally killed for her, of course he'd die for her.

Y/n hates that she thinks he'd do such a thing, she received a picture from a friend on her snap, of Riki walking alongside another woman. They looked so close... she was flirtatious with him, arm around his shoulders, and he smiled at her. The woman being someone she loathed, a bitch who has beaten many girls almost to death, and tried to use y/ns personal life against her. Basically a bitch. To say she was mad was an understatement. The man who abducted her, killed for her, and treated her like a princess, forcing her to be his is with another fucking woman?!

She flinched a little as the door suddenly shut, interrupting her out of her thoughts. "baby im home~" he called. Y/n glared at the wall, waiting for him to enter the bedroom. "Why didn't you come to the door pretty girl?" he asked as Y/n frowned. "Am i pretty girl? or is she?!" y/n asked, as Riki sat opposite her on their bed. "who exactly is her?" he asked, a little confused "the side-chick that had her grubby hands all over you. im sorry, you drag me here claiming that you love me, killed a classmate that confessed to me, and used his many crimes as an excuse, only for you to cheat with a basic bitch who does nothing but whores around spending mommy's money and using daddy's name to defend her crimes?!" she lets out, clearly upset.

However riki just smiled, his eyes staring at her endearingly "my sweetheart is jealous~" he cooed as he tried to reach for her, mad y/n slapped his hands away. "ok ok cool cool... that bitch has been getting on my nerves lately... she filmed you getting dressed so I had to play the part to show her her place... don't worry I haven't killed her... yet..." he smirks, turning on the news. There she was, the girl's photo, somewhat blurred, being exposed for her many offences that she coverred up. "As for the video, deleted forever..." he added as y/n just sat there, unsure of what to do.

A few hours of silence pass, Riki was watching TV, as y/n finished up a few tiny chores. Seeing him, she heaved a quiet sigh, and slipped in the seat beside him. "Im cold" she said staring at him as he looked her up and down "Of course you are, it's autumn and you're wearing a thin-strapped croptop- and the material of those jeans are way too thin." he complained as Y/n frowned. "I said Im cold!" she whined as Riki snickerred. "you have to pay me first." he said as she bit her lip.

She leaned in, catching his soft, plush, perfect lips in a loving kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist, as they let their tongues collide, one of his hands rested at her head, as she placed her arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss as much as she could. As she pulls away, she leaves a few soft kisses down his jawline to his neck, and sinks into his warm embrace. "Dont you dare cheat on me... I'll cry." She mumbled as she snuggled against him. "God you must think im insane if im ever willing enough to cheat on you. do you know how long ive waited for you?!" Riki asked.

He unzipped his hoodie, wrapping it around her a little, as he yanked a soft blanket to wrap around them "What do you wanna watch?" he asked "I know i've watched it a lot but... Let's watch so not worth it and order some nice food hmm?" Y/n suggests as he kisses her nose "Anything for you my lifeline~" he smiled, pulling out his phone to order food.

❀❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀⋆୨୧⋆❁❀❁❀❁❀❁❀

a/n: yeah i don't even know about this... hope u enjoyed it tho<3

[urween]

If Logan Howlett/Wolverine was your partner. ENGLISH VERSION french here

notes : GN!reader + adjusted passages for AFAB/AMAB (assigned female to birth/assigned male at birth). English isn't my first language, so tell me if you see mistakes ;)

! warnings : sexual aspects (oral, fluff), war, violence, insecurities, jealousy, alcohol, cigar

2 065 words

Global

smell is very important for him, he doesn’t like when you change your shampoo or face cream, and he is always sulky for days because of it.

in the same range, if he smells his cologne on you, he becomes a bit feral, growling in your neck and biting your skin.

he’s highly jealous, even if he doesn’t make it obvious. He’s more like contain himself, telling himself he shouldn't think that way, until it explodes and he’s pin on the floor the man who made you laugh.

furthermore, he lets you defend yourself, he intervenes only when he feels like you need to, or if you ask him.

same at home when you got a project in mind, like a furniture to build or a wall to paint, he will ask you if you need his help but if you don’t, he’ll not insist. He’ll always be in the same room though, to catch a photo framer or just look at you.

he is proud of you, and he says it a lot. When you finish a personal project, he’s always the first to hold you and say how proud he is.

sometimes you think he has a shitty memory, ‘cause he forgets the evening with your mutual friends or that milk is missing in the fridge. But when it is about you, he remembers everything. Often it’s him that reminds you about your board games evening with Ororo or even your medical appointments. So, he doesn’t have a shitty memory, he retains only what is important to him.

he would love to be able to fall asleep on you, but his weight doesn’t allow him to, because of the adamantium which makes him too heavy. So you try to cuddle him on your side by holding him tight against your chest, and you know that he loves it as much as you do.

the both of you made a lot of jokes, most of the people don’t understand why you are laughing out loud and it pleases you, it’s between you two.

you love to spend your days with him, but sometimes he pushes you to go out with your friends ‘cause he doesn’t want you to isolate yourself because of him. But you always find a way to bring a little something that belongs to him with you, like a scarf or a jacket or a love bite.

he took time to share his feelings, a long time. But now you two can talk about every subject, and in the end he’s quite talkative.

you love to give him nicknames, in fact you give him a lot and he remembers every single one.

he give you nicknames too, but there are only a few ‘cause they are meaningful for the two of you. Even if of course, “bub” is the most used since the beginning of your relationship.

he smells a lot of things, with his smell but also much more with “his instinct” like you loved to name it. Of course he smells when a disaster's gonna happen and things like that, but he can also smell when you have a health issue, or any type of intern change, he smells it. He smells when you’re sad, when you’re hurt, when you’re overthinking, when you want to jump on his cock.

he doesn’t give a shit about a lot of things, really a lot. You don’t shave yourself ? He doesn’t care. You fart or burp ? He doesn’t care. One time, you were in a really bad condition and the pain was so hard that you couldn't wash yourself for four days, and guess what ? He didn't give a damn, all that mattered for him was your recovery. He is so comfortable with this, that sometimes he helps you shave yourself and he even enjoys it, so you don’t cut yourself.

you two live quite away from the city, in a quiet place and a bit lost, but that means you are in peace, without noisy neighborhoods or attacks on every street corner.

Sexual life

your pleasure is his priority, in everydays life like sexual one. He can spend hours torturing you without touching himself once. In fact, he often forgets his own pleasure so much he loves hearing you scream his name under him. It is your job to pin him on the mattress and take off his clothes, even if he says that he is ok and that he can handle the pain. But you just have to look at him with your doll eyes and say something like “please, it makes me high to suck your cock” and he becomes hot as the sun.

about that, he loves blowjobs but he’ll never ask for it, fortunately you can recognize the signs.

FOR AFAB : everytime he tells you how much he loves when you get wet quickly for him. And he loves making this wet audible while making huge movements with fingers/tongue/cock/toy, he also loves when you blush because of these noises.

FOR AMAB : he loves to titillate you until your precum drips all over your dick, and he also loves the noises your body makes, so if he has to speed up his movements to make these noises louder, he will without any hesitation.

when he cums, he’ll do everything to let his knuckles away from your body, ‘cause he is always scared to not contain himself and that his claws go out.

same when he has freaky nightmares, he’ll force himself to stay on his tummy with hands under his pillow.

he is the opposite of sauvage. He already spent an entire hour just kissing your body and smelling your perfume. I mean, he is always so rude and rough in everyday life, the bedroom is the only place when he takes his time and enjoys every single moment with you like it was the last one.

despite this, it happens that your intimate moments are much more eventful. When you spend a long time away from each other, or when a jealousy peak comes in the day.

he’s kinda from the old days, he doesn’t have weird kinks, he just loves being with you. He has absolutely experience, but he always says that public sex or dirty talk were not his things. However, if it is you that proposes something new, like a toy or an outfit, he will always be part of it, and with a massive pleasure.

he is very attentive, and sometimes he prefers to slow down and even stop, because he feels and sees like you got something bulky in your head.

in the same way, he loves to know what you feel : he loves to ask you if you like what he’s doing, where he presses, the position you are in.

Everyday life moments

he loves when you sit on him, wherever it’s his chest or his hips or his face. If there are five seats, the only one you allow to sit on is his lap.

if you need to test something, he is always volunteering. For example, when you buy your face cream or makeup, he always ends up with about ten different cosmetic products spread out on his hand and arm.

when the both of you go shopping, he always makes a way to carry the heaviest bags without you realizing it.

he’ll always say yes if you want to visit another shop, even if it is almost night or freezing outside. Sometimes it’s even him that suggests you go to a store because he saw the look you gave to this storefront.

you often make him laugh when you come up with old objects/songs/expressions that he knew decades ago.

he doesn’t like when you say that but he really has cat similarities. When he’s against you, he curls up and wedges his face against your belly. And you can swear that you heard a purr coming out his throat, may it was only a growl, but it was in any way really cute.

he listens to old music, unexceptional for his age, and it always makes you smile when you see him sing quietly the lyrics that maybe your grandpa could have sung.

you always ask to taste or test what he is drinking/eating, unfortunately for you it’s often very strong in mouth (spice, alcohol, meat).

when he buys new cigars, you always ask to try one drag even if you don't like the taste. But you know it makes him happy to see that you try things he loves, even if he avoids making you taste too often ‘cause he doesn’t want you to start smoking because of him.

you two have the habit of going for a long ride on his bike, when you feel a bit overwhelmed by some events or just life.

he loves winter, above all the seasons, and he can spend his day out just looking at the falling snowflakes.

Vulnerability

he frequently has nightmares, all violent and traumatic. In that case, he leaves the bed and goes to get some air, because he doesn't want you to see him angry or sad. But you always wake up, sometimes you let him alone ‘cause you know he needs it, and other times you take him in your arms.

he cries more than he admits, often after his nightmares. You know he doesn’t like it, even if you say that crying is beautiful, he just can’t feel that way for himself. So you pretend not to see his tears, you kiss his head and take him against your chest. The day after, he always thanks you, with words or actions.

when you have bad days, he smells it and he does everything to make you feel better. He even went to another city for some apple/cinnamon chocolate ‘cause you mention it.

Entourage

he doesn’t have family, or at least not blood ties, but Charles and all the team take a big place in Logan’s heart, even if he doesn’t say it.

you two often go for several weeks in the manor, you love to see a safe place open for every mutant and Logan needs to come back there sometimes, it’s kinda the only home he never has (with you, of course).

Charles is so kind with you, he immediately loves your person and he doesn’t forget to say that to Logan.

you and Ororo are good friends, she becomes a bit like a sister for you.

Logan told you about his tricky relationship with Cyclops and you could see with your own eyes, they constantly send each other peaks.

he also spoke about Jean, and honestly, at first you don’t like talking about her, you were afraid that he may still love her. But quickly, you realize that it was over between them, it was only a really big crush but he meets you and no one equals you, his words.

twice, you saw Magneto in the garden playing chess with Charles, but you preferred not to get involved, Logan doesn’t like Magneto too and apparently it is mutual.

the x-men kinda became like a second family for you, they immediately welcomed you and you’ll forever be grateful for that.

the first time Logan brought you here, everybody looked at you two with frog eyes. The pupils had a hard time believing that Wolverine was in a relationship, but it is.

Sentences that scream "Logan"

I’m proud of you

You need somethin’ ?

On my lap bub

SHE/HER READER : I know you can open this jar alone, since you are “a big girl”, but i want to open it for ya

HE/HIM READER : I know you can open this jar alone, since you are “a big boy”, but i want to open it for ya

Somebody hurt you ? Tell me

Movie ? Seat down, i take blankets

Hot chocolate ?

Come here, come in my arms darl’

SEXUALITY

You feel it ? Tell me that ya feel how you’re shakin’ for me

God, look at you, fuckin’ beautiful

Never ever someone’ll see you like that huh ?

Say it, say my name darling

Fuck, do it again, do it for me beautiful

° x-men masterlist

gifs : @/asgardswinter

bannière : @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

[somerandomdudelmao]

Ok, so, some marble sky thoughts? Character analysis? Whatever this is! 

I think the only reason that both Oscar and Ward are still alive is because Oscar was left to his own devices with the marmors. 

There are several contributing factors to this thought, but I think it boils down to two main factors: friendliness (towards the marmors), and morality.

First point: as far as i can tell, Oscar genuinely cares about Ecliptica to some extent. My example is when he clubbed that teegardian–the look on his face, and how fast he reacted, suggest that he reacted on gut instinct because Ecliptica was in danger, not that he had a cunning plan to make himself look better. As well as the fact that he genuinely seems to enjoy being around her, and voluntarily spends time with her–I think that this has convinced (some) of the marmors that Oscar is trustworthy, or at the very least not a threat.

On the other hand, Ward has shown that so far at least, he does not like or trust any of the marmors. Now I certainly can’t blame him for that, but it doesn’t do much towards gaining him any favor in the marmor’s eyes (or, sensor things).

My next point is that Ward seems to have a very strong moral code, and acts according to that code regardless of consequences, which restricts him in a way that Oscar doesn’t seem to be restricted. With the teegardian situation, I think Ward would either have straight up refused to be a hunting dog, or tried to help the teegardians, resulting in getting himself killed. 

On the other hand, Oscar, by playing along with the marmors and siding against the teegardians, managed to get into good enough graces with Ecliptica to be able to help Ward (and Holly). Now, I don't think Oscar lacks a moral code, or is trying to be evil or anything–I think he is doing everything he can to protect the people he cares about, and to stay alive. So far, he’s been pretty darn effective too. I also can’t blame him for prioritizing his life, and the life of his friend, over those of complete strangers, especially in such a morally gray area of how intelligent of a species is it ok to eat, and how to define intelligence at all. 

Oscar seems to be doing whatever he feels he needs to in order to keep himself and the people he cares about alive, regardless of “right” and “wrong”. 

Ward also seems to want to keep them both alive, but in contrast he is very attached to his idea of morality, defending what he believes to be right, and fighting against what he believes is wrong.

Because of this, I think Ward and Oscar would have (and probably will in the future) come into conflict because of their different ways of doing things, potentially really messing up each other’s various plans and ideas, in ways that are not conducive towards staying alive and/or friends. 

Also, unrelated theory, Ward is absolutely about to polymorph into an alien cyborg bc of whatever it was that Sculptor did to him

OH THIS

THIS IS SOME REALLY INTERESTING THOUGHTS RIGHT HERE >:D

[artiststarme]

A Grudge Be Held

Based on an enabling comment from @estrellami-1. Hope you guys like it and please leave me your opinions in the comments!

~*~*~*~

There are a few well known facts in the universe; the earth revolves around the sun, George Michael is gay, Tim Curry has sexy legs, and Eddie Munson holds grudges.

It wasn’t because he was a bad person or because he thought people were inherently bad, he’d just been through too much to waste his time on people that had already wronged him. He didn’t give more than one chance and if they fucked that up, well, they didn’t deserve another one.

He was usually lenient on what constituted a grudge to be held. Unless someone did something directly to him or someone he cared about, it didn’t really bother him and they certainly didn’t make his list. His parents were on there (because why wouldn’t they be?), Mrs. O’Donnell was on there because he was positive at least one of his failed senior years was due to her having a bone to pick with him, and Principal Higgins was on there too because fuck that guy.

Tommy Hagan was on the list because of a rumor started that made life hard for Eddie for awhile (it was true but needless to share), Jason Carver was on there now for starting a mob trying to kill him, and Billy Hargrove earned a spot for being an asshole to anything that moved.

A person that many people were surprised wasn’t on the list was Steve Harrington. The DnD party was shocked when they heard King Steve wasn’t an object of resentment in Eddie. But he’d never done anything out of malice to Eddie specifically. Where others saw confidence and pride, Eddie looked at a lonely and broken teen that was willing to do anything to fit in. He couldn’t hate him for that. And the time where Steve stood up for Eddie against Billy Hargrove at a drug deal gone wrong forever cemented him as a good guy in Eddie’s eyes.

After his experience with the Upside Down, psychic murders, and overall shitshow that was his Spring Break, Eddie and Steve got closer. Steve coerced everyone of authority to clear Eddie’s name with help from Robin, Nancy, and the passed Chief Hopper that apparently wasn’t actually dead. He housed Eddie and Wayne until they could find a new trailer that they could afford. Then he spent every waking moment making sure Eddie was alright and included as part of the group. In laymen’s terms, Steve saved his life.

So in true Eddie fashion, he made the internal dramatic decision that he would hold grudges on Steve’s behalf. He would be a guard dog of sorts, protecting and defending the love of his life his friend. What he didn’t consider was how difficult the task would be.

Through a new lens, Eddie saw that everyone walked all over Steve. The cashiers at the grocery store blatantly charged him extra, the customers at Family Video talked over him nearly every sentence in response to questions they asked, and teens on the street laughed at the scars in their view. Worse of all though, the Party didn’t respect him. Dustin and Mike told him several times a day how stupid he was, Nancy looked at him in pity and shut down all of his opinions, Lucas talked about not having sports in common with anyone right in front of him, and Robin kept blowing off their plans to hang with Vickie.

Through it all, Steve appeared fine. He smiled and nodded in all the right places but as soon as he thought the eyes moved on, his smile would slip to reveal something sadder. And so Eddie’s vengeance began.

He “accidentally” knocked over sales racks near the registers in the grocery store when they charged an extra $2 for milk. He keyed the cars of the teenagers that laughed at the evidence of Steve’s pain. When he saw Officer Callahan yacking at Steve for speeding, he picked up a dozen eggs and pelted the man’s house in revenge.

Dealing with the kids in the Party was trickier. His glares and barbed comebacks were clear enough for Nancy and Robin to change their ways. The kids though just weren’t observant enough to pick up on the clues Eddie tried to drop. One session of a campaign though, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

“I didn’t know there were dragons in the game. If you losers had told me there were dragons, I might’ve considered playing ages ago!” Steve exclaimed from his seat on the couch, intrigued eyes meeting Eddie’s.

Eddie smirked at him. “Oh yeah, Big Boy. You should know by now that I’m full of surprises.”

Steve blushed a little bit but as he went to respond, Mike interrupted. “Steve, you’re not even playing. You shouldn’t even be here much less interrupting the game!”

Steve’s flush turned pale and he shrunk into himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just uh, I can go. I’ll see you guys later.”

As he moved to get up though, Eddie stood and towered over the table.

“Wait Steve, you’re gonna want to see this part.” He glowered at Mike and rasped his voice to transition back to DM’ing. “A comet flies from the dragon’s cavern and lands on Sir Madeon. Roll for damage.”

“What the hell! No, you can’t do that!” Mike stammered with a dropped jaw.

“I just did, pipsqueak. Roll for damage or die trying.”

“14,” Mike muttered. He glared at Eddie then Steve before pouting in his seat.

“The comet is too large to escape from. Sir Madeon tries to run but he’s not fast enough to avoid the flying stone. It lands on his back in a fiery crumble. The intense heat eats through his flesh, bones, and organs at once leaving only his head and limbs intact, scattered amongst the rest of the Party. He dies a horrendous death and his friends are left alone with only the smell of charred remains to remember him by.” Eddie ends his tirade with a quirked eyebrow. That’ll show these little assholes what happens when they mess with him. A quick glance at Steve shows him excitement and surprise, he absolutely was not expecting that.

“What the fuck. This is supposed to be PG,” Dustin stares at Eddie in horror. “You really just killed a character in the middle of a campaign for Steve?”

“Roll stealth and damage.” Eddie tells him deadpan.

“God-fucking-dammit! Eddie, no, please…”

“Roll or face the consequences!”

“3 stealth, Nat-20 damage,” Dustin whispered with his face in his hands. The other kids watch Eddie in a mixture of confusion and aghastment. But Steve is beaming, teeth shining from ear to ear.

“The dragon hears your cries of grief and turns its burly head towards you. Its glimmering eyes reach the you and the rest of the Party and you see its scaled lips open in a human like smile. With a speed you could never have anticipated, it slithers toward you before standing on muscled hind legs and flapping its leathery wings. Its lips curl around a blue flame. The last thing you feel is a flash of ice before you see no more.

Your friends see you disappear into a pile of ash, the heat of the flame too powerful to escape. The dragon whips its tail towards the party while they stare at where you used to stand. Will the Wise can’t even list his magical staff before the weight of the tail crushes him to the ground in a pile of shattered bones and bloody sinnew.

Luther is impaled by one of the dragon’s back spikes and killed immediately. The light in his eyes fades and all he sees is a figure with a crown waving at him in the distance. Prince Stephen and his pet dragon prosper in the face of their trespassing adversaries once again but the only witnesses to the horror are erased from the Earth.”

The boys stare at him in shock while he arranges his papers and stands. “The end. Steve and I are going to the movies. You bitchasses aren’t invited and if you’re even a little bit nasty to Steve again, I’ll pulverize you in real life just like I killed you in the campaign. Think on that.”

With that, Eddie grabs the hand of a stunned Steve and drags him from the Wheeler’s basement. After that debacle, he’s sure that the kids have gotten their point. And now he’s got a movie to see with his main man.

(The kids absolutely get his point and moving forward are a lot nicer to Steve. And a little scared of how Eddie’s mind works.

Eddie holds a grudge against the kids for months and will still reference their comments when he sees fit for the rest of their lives or at least the rest of his.

And Steve? He starts dating his DM in shining armor a mere two hours later.)

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[seeingivy]

heart to heart

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

--

sukuna realizes that he’s falling in love with you on the anniversary of his grandfather's death. it’s rather morbid, but he deems that it’s fitting. 

the more that he lingered on it, the more he realized it. that family – good and bad – was always going to hum in the background to the two of you. though he supposes that’s just because you grew up together, that somehow you were intertwined in all of each other’s firsts. 

first day of school, first basketball game, first funeral. 

the day itself isn’t one that sukuna likes to dwell on – a memory colored dark, pushed so hard into the deepest, darkest spots of his mind, that sometimes he only realizes the day has passed a week after the fact. regardless, whenever the realization comes to a head – on time or not – the regret is so suffocating he can barely breathe. 

it’s why he makes every effort to avoid you when the day comes to pass. it’s something that he does with everyone – ignore them like he has the plague. but it’s a little bit different when it comes to you. it’s not personal, he muses, but at the same time, it most definitely is. 

you’re central to the memory. 

sukuna’s sitting up, an idle text being sent to both yuuji and his mom, when the knock on the door comes. and he can feel pressure increase in his throat at the sight of you – his brain feeling heavy, this time in a different way – as you balance two mugs in your hand. 

if it was any other day, sukuna would have found it very difficult to contain himself. the messy bedhead, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, and the fact that you’re drowning in one of his dress shirts. 

sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose. tried to rile him up just to see how he would react. though on second thought, he almost knows for a fact that you hardly understood what exactly it was that you did to him. how you made his skin feel like it was on fire. 

you sit across from him, setting both of the mugs down on the nightstand, before you press your fingertips to his collarbone and push him back on the headboard to use his body as a pillow. you can hear a scoff before sukuna’s hands tangle around your waist, his fingertips ghosting the waistband of what he recognizes as his boxer briefs. 

“you know, part of your whole freeloading in my apartment agreement was that you’d steal my shirts. not my underwear too.” 

you poke his chest. 

“freeloading? need i remind you, that you basically beg me not to leave each time i’m here. and i’m sorry. i spilled the first batch of hot chocolate i made all over my pajamas and my spares are in the laundry.” you state. 

hot chocolate. 

sukuna knows for sure that you must be doing that on purpose. and that maybe you watch him as keenly as he watches you, because you catch on to his discomfort just as fast. 

“i’m sorry if it’s too much.” you whisper. 

you watch his adam’s apple bob in his chest, as he leans his head back against the headboard and shuts his eyes. you trace little stars into his skin, right under the tattooed flesh as you try to talk, as softly as possible. 

like he’ll run off if you push too hard. 

“sukuna. i-i know that this day can be hard. but we can do whatever you want today.” 

“i have work.” he states. 

“no, you don’t. satoru told me you took the day off already. that you always take it off. and suguru asked me to take care of you.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. idiots. 

“what about yuuji? knowing you two, you’ve probably got some whole orate tradition you do. probably use my headshot as a dartboard.” 

“it’s actually your yearbook photo.” you defend. 

sukuna smiles. 

“megumi and nobara have got him covered. i’m here for you.” you state. 

sukuna looks down at you, before quickly looking away. he can’t stand your eyes. 

“s’just another day, y/n. if anything, you should get the fuck out of my house. make sure my sensitive brother is fine.” 

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he feels bad, but swallows it down. 

you lift your hands up to cup the sides of his cheek, lightly rubbing your thumbs under his eyes until they open. his light brown eyes flicker to yours and the message comes off just as he intends it. 

don’t. 

sukuna should have known you’d be stubborn about it. 

“sukuna. s’not really fair if we have a power dynamic.” 

“i’m two years older than you. you are well of age.” he deadpans. 

“i mean. when i tell you about what’s on my mind – insecurities or-or my fights with yuuji or even mazzy – it’s not just spilling out of me because you’re my boyfriend. like i’m so emotional that i rant about my problems to everyone. it’s actually more natural for me to put it away. and i purposely don’t for you.” 

sukuna’s intrigued. 

“i’m trying to do this right. like, not withhold things from you because i know that you would hate that. the same way that i would hate it, if that’s what you were going to do with me.” you respond. 

you rest your cheek against his collarbone, before bending down to press a kiss into his skin. 

“s’not a nice feeling. the conversations we have make me feel like i’m standing naked in front of a classroom on display sometimes. but it’s –” you start. 

“that sounds like an ideal situation to me.” 

you pinch his bicep. 

“i mean. it’s not always easy to feel so bare. but i know it’s the right thing to do. and you kind of have to let me in too. i know it might not seem like that to you, because you fell into the caretaker role so quickly with me, but – i’m usually the one who does that type of thing, with everyone else. and i’m not half bad at it.” 

sukuna watched you take care of yuuji his whole life. in the moments that sukuna wasn’t there, he knows that you were the one sitting at his side. especially when he took off so fast like he did.

it’s partly the reason that he was able to do it. because he knew that yuuji would be taken care of – and well, too. but it almost feels wrong, too immature of him to go to you with his problems. 

how are you ever supposed to come to him again? 

“c’mon, baby. anything you want today. we can go back home and eat at the diner. or go to his grave. stay in the entire weekend…” you hum. 

it’s the first time that sukuna’s ever heard you use a term of endearment on him. he was never short of them, a constant cycle of his favorites – pretty girl, doll face, angel. it almost seemed wrong to call you by your name at this point, not when he could so openly express his affections and watch you smile at the fact. 

but sukuna likes it more than he wants to. being called baby. he never wants you to say anything else again. 

he always thought it was a little stupid, an infantile or immature nickname when he watched satoru call suguru as such. especially the way satoru always seemed to beam whenever he did it. he’ll be sure to swallow his retorts the next time. 

“i want to go to the sushi place. back home.” he states. 

you scoff. 

“oh my god. i went on my first date there. got felt up near that fountain.” you respond, scrunching up your nose. 

“i got a handjob near that fountain.” sukuna states. 

“ew. don’t tell me you….in the fountain?” 

he only grins in response. 

“ew, sukuna! you’re such a dog.” 

“i’ll have mai bring me a nice dress. we’ll go the whole ten miles on a fancy date, like everyone from high school. if you’re lucky, i might even let you touch my butt.” 

“could i be so lucky?” he asks. 

you pinch the side of his cheek. his response is pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“do you have a pink dress?” he asks. 

“sure do. i’ll have her bring that one, okay?” 

--

sukuna drives you to the sushi restaurant. the ride into town is quiet. you’d almost think that sukuna was mad at you for pushing, but his warm hand resting on your thigh silences almost all the qualms in your head. 

when you make it there, the mere fact of being there with sukuna leaves you with an odd thought. that if things were different beforehand, you would have been fifteen standing there with him, instead of leaving the restaurant feeling oddly dissatisfied from a guy who really wanted nothing to do with you instead.

“sukuna. party of two.” 

“it’ll just be five minutes.” 

sukuna gives a kurt nod before dragging you to the other side to lean against the wall, his hand warm on your waist. you pick your brain at the best thing to say – his uncharacteristic silence brimming you with anxiety and making you particularly hyper-vigilant in choosing the right thing to say to him. 

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers.

you fight the urge to smile so hard.

"thank you, sukuna. you're beautiful too."

he glares at you.

"you're shitty."

you smirk, before pinching the side of his cheek. of course that was his reaction.

"you're such a cutie pie little baby sometimes I just wanna-" you coo.

"shut the fuck up before I make you." he responds.

"ooh. so scary!"

“i came here for the first time with my grandpa. i'll even tell you about it if you stop being a little bitch for a second.” 

you stop.

“yes, sir. ” you respond, saluting. 

sukuna smiles in response and it makes your heart skip a beat. that and the fact that you swear you've never seen his eyes so soft.

“so basically –” sukuna starts 

“sukuna, y/n? is that you?” 

you look over to your left to find one of your old neighbors – so old that you can barely even remember his name – standing at your sides, excitedly waving at the two of you. 

“god, it’s been years! you two are so grown now.” 

“mr. soma.” sukuna responds.

you find yourself grinning ear to ear at the fact that one, sukuna’s tone is entirely displeased. and two, that there’s no pleasantry laced in with his words. 

“y/n. how is your dad? i haven’t seen him around in a while.” 

the taste in your mouth is metallic. 

“couldn’t tell you! i haven’t seen him either.” you state. 

his face pinches up, the pitiful expression that follows causing a subsequent clenching of your jaw. 

“sukuna. how’s your father?” 

“still a dick.” he states. 

you smile. the way he seems to flinch at the bluntness, at sukuna’s demeanor, is solace enough for the double dose of shitty dad comments. he gives you both a polite smile before skirting off, after an awkward round of small talk. university, work, yuuji and sammy and he's off.

you turn to sukuna, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“you okay?” 

“obviously. a dumbass with a shitty attitude won’t ruin my mood when i’m here with you. are you?” 

“me too.” 

sukuna smirks at you. 

“really? you're not internalizing every awkward experience that happens to you? have i entered a parallel universe today?” 

“i’m a mystery, idiot. you can spend forever trying to figure me out.” 

“planning on it.” he responds. 

sukuna splits all his sushi with you. if you like a certain plate, he almost refuses to touch it afterwards, just to let you finish all the pieces. and after you say you’re too full, he’s does the job for you – only because you say that you feel bad leaving it to waste when they took the time to make it.

it’s strawberry ice cream afterwards and he makes it very clear that it's only because it’s your favorite. you swing by the store when you get back into the city and eat straight from the tub on the kitchen island.

and over your shared spoon of dessert, sukuna’s voice is almost so quiet you can barely hear it. you think that the ice cold sensation curbs any warm anxiousness that would stop him normally from talking – and you thank your cravings for it.

“my grandpa was the first person who took care of me.” 

you press your cheek to his shoulder in response, rubbing circles into his palm as he talks. 

“I know it's a natural thing. that when you have a younger sibling, that it takes the attention away from you. i know logically that i had that attention, that i required it when i was a baby too.” 

"but?"

"but yuuji's so fucking likeable. i love the idiot and it feels like shit to admit, but i fucking hated that everyone almost forgot about me just because of him."

you pause.

“it’s hard not to like you too.” you state. 

“but you know what i mean. i liked taking care of him, until i didn't. he got older and...and sometimes it felt like he didn't even fucking care about half the things i did for him. at one point, i got sick of watching everyone fawn over him so much that it made me upset. i told my mom but...you know how she can be. didn't really register for her. ” 

you hum in response. 

“my grandpa must have noticed that i had a little bit of resentment towards him, especially when i was in eighth grade. started getting in fights and acting out and all that. and he brought me here. and-and i was pissed at him that i just started fucking yelling at him. about how he didn’t care about me and how i felt unwanted and under-appreciated and…and he agreed with me.” 

he pauses, bringing one of his hands up to your hair. 

“i like feeling appreciated. valued enough that someone will listen to me and actually believe it. that he wanted to be around me too.” he states.

you pause, your heart clenching so hard in your chest. your stomach nearly drops at the sentiment, at the memory that you can feel tears in your eyes. you’re murderous hatred for sukuna and yuuji’s dad only grows tenfold with every consecutive day – but feels particularly potent now. 

you immediately tilt your head up, in efforts to curb yourself from crying – when you’re the one who should be strong for him right now. he, of course, notices right away. 

“eh? what’s wrong with you?” 

“allergies.” 

“did you miraculously get stung by a bee in the past few seconds while we were sitting here?” 

you scoff. 

“you’re so obsessed with me. you even memorized my medical history!” 

“that was in no way romantic. god forbid i know a basic fact about you so you don’t like, literally die on me. now tell me what it is. you basically have to because my grandpa is dead, you know?” 

“are you really playing the dead grandpa card?” 

“the fact that you called it that was fucking offensive. now you have to tell me.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i was just thinking about that day. it makes my heart break that you lost someone who made you feel understood. that you felt alone, even though we were all right there. i hope you know that i find it hard to drag myself away from you sometimes. you're like the only place i want to be." you murmur. 

the year before sukuna left, he got into fights often. you remember it vividly – the fact that his mom always seemed to be at your house crying to your mom, while you and yuuji lingered by the doorway for too long listening when you shouldn’t have. 

and he’d shuffle in hours later, a purple eye or bloodied knuckles – a wall of silence with zero explanation. 

but the worst part is that the one time he got in serious trouble, enough to constitute needing to be picked up from the police station, was cosmically the worst possible day it could have happened. 

because sukuna’s grandfather was already dead when you guys got the call. you had all been phoning him for hours and unbeknownst to you, the reason he didn’t pick up is because his phone had gotten taken away. and his mom, yuuji – they were so struck in their own grief that your mom had taken you and sammy with her to go get him. 

and now when you think of it – the thought of him sitting there all alone when you found him, the fact that he was sitting there feeling misunderstood made you cry. it was enough to know that you had all unleashed horrible news on him, but even worse to know you were the one to rip his grandfather away from his life. 

“i remember that you were the one who told me.” he states. 

you nod, affirming his memory. 

“you…you were all quiet. was kind of expecting your mom to give me an earful, about being responsible for my mom and yuuji. but she was just quiet. sammy didn’t even look at me. and when i saw you, you were crying. came up right by my side and apologized. you were the first person to give me condolences. made me hot chocolate when you got home because you didn’t know what else to do.” he states. 

“yeah. i wish i was more composed or…or could have at least said something better to you. and i still kind of suck with words but i…i hope this helps? at least a little?” you mumble. 

sukuna leans forward, curbing any follow-up sentiment you could have had with his lips. you can still taste the strawberry. you murmur against his lips – him pulling you back in every time you try to pull away. 

“did you kiss me to shut me up?” you ask. 

“do you want a cookie for figuring that one out, genius?” he responds. 

you lightly push his chest. 

“you’re such a dickhead! let me do the whole supportive, caring girlfriend thing. i can’t just leave you hanging, you know.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“doll face.” he deadpans. 

you glare at him. 

“you are perfect.” 

you’re caught off guard. 

“i’ve never told anyone any of that before. never even met someone i’ve wanted to tell. quit fucking worrying yourself over whether or not it was good or bad. i’m half convinced that you could be my remedy to anything.” 

you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks at the praise. you bundle the fabric of his collar in your shirt before you pull him forward, pressing your lips to his as softly as you can. 

“someone feeling bold today?” he murmurs against your lips. 

his hand is warm on your face, cupping the side of your cheek. and when you lean forward, the warmth that surges through you is so deep that you think you might have kissed sukuna too hard. because now you’ve backed him up against the wall, your fingers quickly rushing down the buttons of his shirt. 

sukuna’s quick to stop you. hands warm on your wrists and brown eyes widened. 

“what are you doing?” he whispers. 

“oh. oh, i don’t know. it…it just kinda came over me. sorry. just like..felt super close to you there for a second and i felt it like…rumbling in my chest.” 

sukuna’s brings his forehead against yours. his eyes are pinched shut, almost straining, his breaths quiet. 

“i want to do something. but you have to tell me if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.” you ask.

“okay.” sukuna responds.

“don’t even think about fucking lying to me. i’ll know.” 

"yeah right."

“i mean it.” you grates. 

“just tell me.” he responds.

“okay, but-” 

“y/n l/n.” 

you pause.

“can you take a bath with me?” 

he pulls back. 

“what?”  

“a bath. suguru gifted us these bath salt and stuff. he said it was a gift for you. told me you like that kind of thing.” 

“he's always gifting some weird therapy shit to me.” he states.

"therapeutic." you correct.

“one day i’m going to curb your fucking attitude and you’re not going to like it one bit.” 

you smile. 

“i hate you. i’ll take my bath on my own then.” you respond.

he yanks hard on his arm. 

“okay. if it's uncomfortable, we get out.” 

you nod. you get in first, quickly leaing against the wall and hiding under the warm bubbles, as he follows suit. weirdly enough, sukuna's first instinct is to go to the other side, the farthest from you, but you stop by pulling on his wrist.

"c'mhere. just lean against me." you murmur.

it’s a little bit awkward at first. because sukuna's the one wound up instead of you.

“can you relax for me?” you whisper.

“right. sorry.” 

he leans back, your skin prickling, as he settles his head against your chest. he's looking up at you, his eyes fixed on yours, but you can’t help but stare at his skin - freckles and moles that you’ve never had the opportunity to notice sparkling his skin. 

“thank you.” he whispers. 

“for?” 

he scoffs.

“y/n.” he chides. 

“use your big boy words!” you coo.

“shut the fuck up.” 

“c’mon. you've got it in you.” 

“you know what i want to say.” 

“of course i do. i know you’re really glad that i have an innie belly button instead of an outie.”

sukuna nearly chokes on his spit.

“i beg your pardon?” 

“i know that outies freak you out. you don’t have to say it.” 

sukuna stops himself from saying it. 

that he's falling in love with you. 

it’s right on the tip of his tongue. but he knows that it’s too fast so he swallows it down. that and the fact that it would be fucking insane if he said that to follow up your stupid joke about inne and outie belly buttons.

“baby, we should really donate your brain to science. i think you could advance neuroscience fifty years into the future.” sukuna states. 

“take that back, asshole.” you respond.  

“make me.” 

you yank hard on his hair, before fixing your hands back in his locks and pushing the matted wet hair off of his forehead. sukuna leaves a kiss in your hands, before he seems to wander off somewhere else, almost like he's deep in thought.

you grant him the quietness. sukuna loves you even more for it.

--

next part linked here

an: ICK CHAPTER BUT WHATEVER

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[luckybyler]

This was a reply to someone else, but I'm making this its own post because so many people are being so evil right now re: Noah Schnapp.

You can find other, longer explanations with history and all, but all the places I've seen more or less agree with this:

So you're all calling people to cancel Noah because he's in favor of a Jewish nation in what is today Israel. Which is a perfectly reasonable, decent and educated opinion to have, especially when you, to use a trendy term, "educate yourself" and find out why the state of Israel was created.

11000 dead Palestinians, half of them children

According to Hamas. Don't forget that, ever. They're the current, official government of Gaza, thus they're the ones who give numbers. This means that the real number could be 10, 1 million, anything in between. What I've read is that they probably give more of less accurate total numbers. What they fail to do, however, is distinguish between Hamas militants and civilians, and beteween civilians killed by IDF strikes, civilians killed by failed Hamas or Palestininan Islamic Jihad's rockets (which happens a lot), and Palestinians murdered by Hamas/PIJ (which also happens, a whole damn lot). They also don't specify how many civilians they have prevented or tried to prevent from evacuating or receiving aid.

11k dead people is a horrible number. Even 1 dead person is a horrible number. However, urban warfare in such a densely populated area is its own kind of hell, especially when the other side is fond of using civilians as human shields in every way possible. The fact that the number is 11k and not 50k, 100k, and so on, indicates that the IDF have indeed done a lot to minimize deaths. You don't genocide people by doing roof knocks, opening evacuation lines, dropping guided bombs, putting up an Iron Dome to deal with rockets while avoiding escalation, etc. simply because actual genocide, while a lot worse, is also cheaper, easier and faster than what they're doing. This is important because caling every act of war genocide dilutes the word, and there are actual genocides happening around the world. Also, there is a difference between striking military targets and causing civilian deaths as a side effect (what the IDF is doing) and planning and carrying out a massacre deliberately targeting civilians and inflicting as much pain and humilliation as possible on them. And there is a difference between doing so by breaking a ceasefire (which is what Hamas did), and defending your country because if you don't do that a terrorist group will anhilate you (which is what the IDF is doing).

Back to Noah. So far, these are the things that people have tried to cancel him for:

Traveling to Israel (a completely normal thing)

Having Israeli friends (another completely normal thing)

Condemning Hamas' horrible attack on October 7th (the decent thing to do)

Posting a statement saying he feels unsafe as a Jewish person in the US (which, given the rise of antisemitic acts in the world, including the US, including where he lives and where he studies, is a valid feeling to have)

Signing a letter, along with Shawn Levy, Brett Gelman, Ross Duffer and I think Cara Buono, asking Biden to press for the liberation of every hostage by Hamas. This especially shows the utter ignorance of the cancellers because, as it turns out, caring about every hostage implies a slowdown of IDF's actions (and, at the time, a delay of a ground invasion).

Supporting the existence and preservation of the state of Israel (once again, a completely normal thing). The fact that people are turning against him for these things says to me that the real reason you are all hating Noah is beacuse:

He's Jewish. Like, really really Jewish.

And the fact that this all comes from a place of antisemitism isn't hidden at all: I've seen y'all on here, on Twitter, Reddit, every other social media calling him slurs (such as "cunt"), censoring his name, pretending he's not part of the cast, asking the Duffers/Netflix to fire him, wishing him failure, doxxing him, calling on his classmates to physically assault him, etc. He doesn't need to educate himself: you guys are already teaching him a great lesson on why a Jewish state is necessary. If that's the treament he gets from his own "fans", what can he expect from the world at large?

[chvoswxtch]

lucky

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt finally gets to take out the girl that's been leaving care packages at his door for two months.

warnings: swearing, slight angst, tooth rotting fluff (might need to call your dentist after this one)

word count: 3k

a/n: the highly requested fluffy sequel to care packages. thank you to everyone that requested this. i hope you enjoy your first date with matty. ❤️ as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

“I hate you, you know that?”

Matt nearly spit out his coffee as he lurched over the conference table slightly, forcing the lukewarm bitter taste down his throat as a wave of incredulous laughter tore through his chest.

“What? Why?”

“Because it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough you’re so goddamn charming, and it’s borderline offensive that you’re like the most attractive dude I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that whole wounded duck routine you’ve got going on that makes all the girls fall at your feet-”

“Foggy, I don’t-”

“-but what’s exceptionally unacceptable is that you somehow managed to find a girl that knows about the horns, and not only didn’t run away, but still agreed to go out with you. Like the fact that you’re a vigilante and a walking human disaster totally didn’t phase her at all. That’s…like…against the rules!”

Matt couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled tone lacing his best friend’s exasperated voice, and the way the edges of Foggy’s mouth dipped in displeasure. 

“What rules, Foggy?”

“The rules of the universe, Matt. You’ve had too much good fortune-

“Right, like being blinded and orphaned-”

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m talking about-”

“Guys, please. If you two keep bickering, Matt’s gonna be late. He’s lucky she’s even going out with him at all. Can we finish this?”

Karen glanced between Matt and Foggy with an arch of her brow, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to capture her lips as Matt’s teasing grin faltered into a purse of his lips from that bruise to his ego.

“Wow. Thank you…for that vote of confidence, Karen.”

“It’s true and you know it. Now, both of you sign these damn papers so we can get out of here before she changes her mind.”

Foggy’s expression suddenly turned serious as he focused his attention solely on Matt, staring at him with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“I swear to God, Murdock. If you fuck up my pipeline to those crack cookies, I will never forgive you. You better turn that Matthew Murdock charm up to a million, you got me? I want those cookies, Matt. Cookies.”

»»———　　———««

It had been five days since Matt had asked you to dinner, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Between the slew of court cases he was elbow deep in and the extra patrol he’d been doing at the docks to bust a trafficking ring, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to you again. He couldn’t feel your presence when he awoke past his alarm in the mornings, and when he finally got home at the Devil’s hour, he could hear you below him sleeping soundly in your bed.

For the past five nights, the harmony of your heart’s rhythm had eased him into a peaceful sleep like a serene lullaby.

But Karen’s words had anxiety filling every single cell in his body as he navigated the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

What if you had changed your mind?

It had been five days. Five days without getting to speak to you again. Five days without another care package. 

That wasn’t unusual, right?

You didn’t follow a strict schedule with them. The drop offs were usually every few weeks. It just wasn’t time for one.

Or maybe you didn’t want to deliver any more of them.

Maybe the reality of who and what he was sank in and gave you cold feet.

Maybe this was over before it began.

“Fuck.”

Matt felt like he was losing his mind playing the role of the plaintiff and the defendant in the case of had he royally fucked this up already. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous to go on a date. Maybe it was because you were the first person he was going on a date with as himself. Not one half concealing the other. Not with a pre-spun web of lies to cover his tracks. Not with a rehearsal to remember to play down his abilities. 

All his cards were out on the table, and while he felt an absolute rush of liberation that you knew the truth already, the consequences of that truth were daunting and seemed to be lurking around every corner of his mind. By the time he reached his door, his clammy hands kept slipping over his key, and sweat had started to bead uneasily along his hairline.

Should he call this whole thing off?

He really didn’t want to. 

Did you want him to call it off?

He prayed you didn’t.

Had you been thinking about him for the past five days too?

He really hoped so.

»»———　　———««

When Matt finally made it to your door, he was nearly out of breath and his cheeks were flushed with heat. He had changed three times because you had, and he didn’t want to be over or underdressed. He focused his senses intently on you, trying to decipher the materials and textures of the outfit you finally settled on. You had music playing as you got ready, and for a few moments Matt just paused and listened to you hum along. You seemed to be in a good mood, and that eased his nerves considerably.

Was it wrong for him to invade on your privacy like that? The angel on his shoulder was already adding it to the laundry list for his confession on Sunday. But the Devil in him argued that he was going to hear you anyway. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help what his senses picked up.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet you at your door, Matt panicked and realized he hadn’t got you any flowers, and promptly ran down the street in search of a vendor. He spent eight minutes trying to pick some out. He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and roses felt too cliche and insincere. He wanted to pick something special, something that showed he put thought into them, even if he had run to get them right before he was supposed to pick you up.

The vendor had talked him into a bouquet of violet peonies, and since he didn’t have time to spare, he raced back praying that this was the one flower you didn’t hate or God forbid were allergic to.

Matt took a moment to gather himself outside your door; wiping the sweat from his brows with the back of his hand, attempting to steady his rapid breathing, smoothing his windblown hair back into place, and reciting a quiet Lord’s Prayer for good measure.

When his knuckles finally collided with your door to knock, he didn’t know if his heart was racing from the marathon he had just run, or because of you. 

The light patter of your feet eagerly approaching the door caused a smile to grace his lips, and once he tuned out the sound of his own heart raging in his ears, he could hear yours fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird.

You were nervous too.

There was a bright smile on your lips, and a light twinge of embarrassment from how quickly you had flung your door open, and you let out a quiet laugh at your own expense.

“Hi Matthew.”

God, he had forgotten how melodic your voice sounded, and how much he suddenly loved his own name hearing it fall from your lips.

“Just Matt, is okay. Only my priest calls me Matthew. And, well…a few judges in the courtroom. And my partners when I cause them undue stress in the workplace. I mean you…you can call me whatever you want, whatever’s more comfortable. It’s just-it’s kinda formal, and you don’t have to-”

“Matt’s nice. I like Matt.”

“Matt likes you.”

Matt internally grimaced as those words slipped past his lips, and the mixture of disapproval and mortification on his face from his own blunder caused a fit of giggles to erupt from your mouth.

“Well, then we’re on the same page. Glad we’ve covered that base for tonight.”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he dipped his head for a moment, trying to find the source of his usual easy charm to refuel his glaring depletion. He cleared his throat as tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing blankly past his crimson glasses in the direction of your face with a somewhat shy smile on his full lips while delicately handing you the bouquet.

“I uh…didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, but the guy said these were the prettiest ones he had.”

Warmth spread across the tops of your cheeks when your fingers lightly brushed against his to retrieve his thoughtful offering, your lips immediately splitting into a wide grin.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Matt. I love peonies. How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

Matt perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter as a proud, dimple-showcasing, toothy grin took over his mouth.

“Lucky guess.”

“Do you always get so lucky?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Matt’s dazzling grin immediately dropped, and you could see his eyes widen behind the cherry tinted lenses. As his face paled and his lips parted in horror, his brows shot up above the frame of his glasses.

“Oh God, I didn’t-that wasn’t…I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-you’re not-this isn’t…I meant the date. Not that I’m expecting anything-I wouldn’t-I just…meant I hope it goes well. I didn’t-Jesus fucking Christ.”

You were nearly in tears with laughter as Matt stumbled over his words. A part of you felt bad for laughing at the clarity of his humiliation, but it was so endearing knowing he was just as affected by his nerves as you were. This man that went out every night to take down dangerous criminals, and was arguably the most feared man in the city himself, was standing in front of your door stumbling over an apology about an unintended double entendre. 

Reaching out to place your hand on his arm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, momentarily distracted by the dense muscle you felt beneath the soft material of his shirt, before smiling at him in sympathy as you attempted to control your laughter. 

“Matt, it’s okay. Really.”

He let out a deep exhale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly as he let out a short and dry chuckle. Matt nodded his head in your direction, a faint curve of self-deprecation on his lips.

“Is this the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”

There was a teasing tone accompanying the timber of his voice, but layered beneath you could detect a chord of genuine curiosity intermingled with trepidation. The smile on your lips only grew as you looked up at him.

“Actually, it’s one of the best.”

Matt was completely in awe of you. There wasn’t a single falter in your heart’s rhythm. He felt his lips easily mirroring the smile that was on yours, reaching his hand out to lightly grasp your elbow as your hand was still comfortably placed on his bicep.

“What would I have to do to make it the best?”

“Hm. What’s for dinner?”

“Italian. That I know you like.”

A soft noise of content hummed from your throat, and the grin that bloomed on your lips triggered his own.

“Yeah, you’re definitely in my top three right now. But, the night is still young.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful invitation that flowed from your voice.

“Top three? I can work with that. I like a challenge.”

»»———　　———««

The restaurant Matt brought you to was a quaint, family owned spot just a few blocks away from your shared apartment building. It’s a place he had passed by on several instances, the aroma of fresh produce and homemade pasta sauce passed down through generations capturing the intrigue of his senses every time he crossed its path, but he had wanted to save it for a special occasion like a celebratory fifty year old bottle of champagne.

And tonight, he was popping the cork on it with you.

The space was incredibly cozy. Tea light candles flickered romantically on every table and cast an amber glow in the somewhat dim lightning. Collections of sepia and noir photos of large families and historic Italian architecture decorated the walls. The imported Sangiovese was rich in tannins and bold in flavor, caressing your tongue like bittersweet velvet. And the loud personality and thick accent of your waiter repeating your orders off in an alluring symphony of Italian made you feel like you and Matt had somehow been transported straight from Hell’s Kitchen to Italy just by passing through the door.

Both of your nerves seemed to evaporate into the breeze flowing through the open windows with every splash of burgundy against your lips and exchange of exquisite flavor from your dishes. Matt asked you questions with childlike excitement, eager to learn more about you, studying you with the exact same enthusiasm he showed important cases that were of the utmost importance to him.

In return, he found himself answering your own inquisitions easily without having to spare the devilish and more complicated details. It was so incredibly emancipating to not have to pretend with you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t having to play a character. He could just be…Matt.

You approached every question with genuine curiosity and a respectful distance of where his invisible boundaries might be, and it made his heart soar that you were trying so hard to carefully craft his comfort. Matt had known that he was enthralled with you the first time he met you, but by the time dessert came, he was absolutely smitten.

He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he also didn’t want the night to end.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Hm, I don’t know. You sure it isn’t too out of your way?”

Even if Matt couldn’t feel the way your lips parted into a huge smile, he could hear it in the cadence of your voice. The subtle joke made him chuckle as he nodded his chin in your direction, his own mouth pulling into a charming smirk. 

“I’d still offer even if you lived in Long Island.”

The sudden spill of heat across the tops of your cheeks and the quiet sharp intake of your breath had his heart pounding faster in his chest.

“I suddenly wish I did.”

Even though your tone was playful, he could detect the implications behind your words. You didn’t want this night to end either, and that had him soaring up to cloud nine. Feeling emboldened by your indirect confession, Matt reached his hand out slowly to brush his fingertips against the palm of your hand, easily threading his fingers through your own, reveling in the softness of your skin that he had missed. He felt a spark every time your pulse resonated against his own, and his cheeks nearly hurt from how much he was smiling.

“I prefer you living a floor below me.”

By the time the two of you reached your front door, Matt couldn’t tell if it was the electricity from the building buzzing in his ears or the anticipation that kept building the entire walk, growing larger and larger like a snowball ready to plow into his chest to cause an avalanche when you turned your body to face him. As your thumb lightly brushed against the back of his scarred knuckles, a question that had been bouncing around in his head all evening could no longer go unanswered.

“So, as far as first dates go, what’s the verdict? Did I move up at all?”

Matt splayed his most charming smile across his plump lips, and while the flirtation in his voice was evident, so was the unmistakable undertone of uncertainty. The blood rushing through his veins was roaring in his ears like tides crashing against the shore during a storm. 

“I’d say you made it to the top two.”

Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly surprised by your answer, his brows raising above the browline of his glasses slightly.

“Second place?”

“Unless you’ve got a last minute testimony for me to rule in your favor, Counselor.”

Your voice remained soft and teasing, but your heart was fluttering violently in your chest, like the hummingbird was trying to escape its cage. Matt carefully let go of your hand, reaching up to pull his glasses away from his face, baring himself completely before you as he slipped the crimson lenses into his pocket. The slight gasp from seeing his eyes for the first time that caught in your throat caused a bashful smile to appear on his lips. 

His tongue darted out to wet them quickly, catching a taste of the tiramisu you shared still lingering on your tongue. He wanted to devour it from your lips. Taking a bold step forward, he did his best to fix his gaze where he thought yours was, leaning in slightly until your noses were merely an inch apart, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips.

“May I?”

His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, coming out in an intimate whisper that you answered all too eagerly.

“Yes.”

Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly closed the sliver of distance between you, pressing his lips to yours with a satisfied groan, feeling a surge of pride at the way your breath caught in your throat. For a good thirty seconds, you actually stopped breathing. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, he brushed his lips against yours and whispered into them softly.

“Breathe.”

The second the command slipped off his tongue, you exhaled heavily before sucking in a sharp drag of oxygen, and Matt couldn’t stop the smug grin that overtook his entire mouth.

“Well, sweetheart? What’s the verdict now?”

“Yeah…yeah, yeah definitely in the number one spot.”

Matt beamed at the breathlessness of your voice, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest as he purred into your ear.

“Lucky me.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @danzer8705

[wuucchoo]

Understanding Tsumiki and Megumi's relationship

Hey there! It's me, Megumi's defense attorney - here once more to defend my boy.

I've been seeing A LOT of people saying they cannot sympathize with Megumi's grief because they don't know Tsumiki that well. And although I would argue that you don't need to know the person who died for you to sympathize with the one who was left behind - I do understand what these people mean, i don't agree with them! But I understand why they think this. And yes, we dont know Tsumiki.

However, we first need to understand why gege chose to present Tsumiki this way. On a surface level, she can only be seen as 'the thing that would cause Megumi's downfall' - we dont know her thoughts, her ambitions, her real personality, anything really - except for what Megumi says about her. A 'textbook good person'.

And that's because she is a character that we were only able to see through someone else's eyes. We don't know Tsumiki, because Megumi doesn't know Tsumiki.

BUT WAIT!! What do I mean by that?

Before that though, I would like to say first! This doesn't mean that Megumi's love for her is diminished by this. Just because he doesn't know her doesn't mean he doesn't love her. Megumi cares about her more than anyone in his life, and that's a fact!

Now we can proceed! What does this mean? Let's look at this page from ch 56: origin of obedience:

This was a case that they have been investigating, and it is pretty damn close to Megumi's and Tsumiki's old school. And yet, the thought that Tsumiki might have went to the bridge with her classmates never crossed his mind. He doesnt know that Tsumiki is someone capable of breaking the rules, going against curfew, and joining her friends to go to a haunted bridge in the dead of night. This boy Megumi thinks his sister is a damn saint.

He put Tsumiki on a pedestal, and it resulted in her turning into nothing but the mold of a good person Megumi uses to judge other people. If a person is not Tsumiki-shaped, then they're not worth saving. ((Luckily for Yuuji, he IS Tsumiki-shaped lmao. But anyway!))

Truth be told, I used to think it sucks that we never knew Tsumiki outside of what Megumi says. I never felt bad when she died, I felt bad that Megumi's sister died. I felt bad FOR Megumi.

And now that I actually think on it, THAT was the exact point. We dont NEED to know Tsumiki, we only needed to see her through Megumi's eyes - and through that, understand that Megumi doesn't really know her that well.

It is something that Megumi have to mull over. Why did he keep Tsumiki at an arm's length despite how much he cares for her? Why is it so hard for him to let people in? Why is asking someone for help so difficult for him?

ITS BECAUSE OF THAT MFKER TOJI!!!! IM TELLING YA'LL!! /hj

Look at the face he was making in Toji's memory. That's a kid who shows his emotions outright. My boy is pouting (つ╥﹏╥)つ. But when Gojo met him, Megumi has become a total idgafker (at least on the outside). And thats not only because Gojo was a stranger - coz thats how he looks like when he talks to Tsumiki too. It's because he became that way when Toji left.

Anyway, my point is, due to Megumi's abandonment issues - he never let anyone in. EVER. Not even Tsumiki. Megumi put a wall between him and other people - for his own protection. The one who came a little bit close into breaking that wall is Yuuji (and we are yet to see how that goes).

And this is why, we as the readers are all detached from Tsumiki's character. Because we saw her through Megumi's eyes, who loves her and cares about her very, very much - yet despite that he never let her get too close. (っ- ‸ - ς)

If you read up to here, whats up! Thank you for reading! Feel free to counter it or anything, Im happy to discuss!

((also something to add: Megumi cares so much about Tsumiki because she's the first one who actively chose to stay - amidst all the people who left.

this was inspired by a great megumi character analysis i found on twitter:

read it if you have time! its really good!

[primeofprimes115]

Hot and Bothered - Supergirl x Male Reader Smut

Smut 💕

Requested: Yes, from Wattpad

Being the boyfriend of the renowned cousin of the Man of Steel had it's perks... And it's downsides.

The relationship for starters was perfect for the two, Y/N couldn't be anymore happier dating Supergirl, the Girl of Steel herself. Y/N had moved into Kara's own apartment in New York since they announced their relationship to their loved ones.

Kal and Kara's friends and many allies were reluctant on the fact she was dating a normal human being, while Kal was supportive and understanding, considering he's engaged with Lois Lane, many others told her the dangers and cautions she must take when dating someone like Y/N, considering he's human and she isn't.

Her adoptive family however were ecstatic to hear she was engaged in a relationship with a boy, they were happy to hear she was doing well for her own and have noted to wanting to meet the boy she fell for, which was kind of the other way around, he fell for her first.

On Y/N's side of things, his family and friends were happy for him, his parents especially, his mother made it known that the girl he was dating had to get passed her first before she was fully accepted in, which took no time in fact when they finally got to meet her, Linda Lee Danvers was her secret identity, they wouldn't be meeting Supergirl, at least not yet.

The perks of being the boyfriend of Supergirl? It's the flights around anywhere and back to their shared home, the feeling of being safe around her, her warming hugs and jolly attitude that brightens up anyone's day. She'd be the one to say something without ever being afraid, once standing up for Y/N against his ex girlfriend who tried to get him sacked from his job, being both Linda and Supergirl to her advantage against his ex, ultimately being successful in defending him.

She's even saved him from a few encounters from bad folk along the way, ever since Linda entered Y/N's life and found out she was Supergirl all along, his life had changed for the better in a way.

But when it comes to it's downsides of dating the Maiden of Might?

There are times she comes back from work either marked with little bruises or cuts at times, let alone her suit being a little torn in certain types of battles, it was a good thing Y/N knew how to sew alongside Kara, the two were great pairs.

Times where she couldn't make it in time for lunch or dinner, either because she was out in deep space, fighting alongside her allies or on her own to deal with matters in her own hands, but Y/N didn't care if she was late or not, as long as she returned to him, it's all that mattered to him, he knew what he was getting himself into when he began dating Kara.

And also... Her vulnerability to Kryptonite, a rock that radiates a radiation that can be deadly or have different effects depending on the color to Kryptonians, especially Kara Zor-El herself. Y/N hadn't known much about it until he saw the green rock he had found laying on the ground begin to make her feel all woozy, dizzy and nauseous during her heroic efforts to stop a rampaging robotic monstrosity in Central Park, it was stated that the monstrosity was powered by green Kryptonite as its power source.

But a new vulnerability had been added to her list of weaknesses... You.

She didn't know why, but the fact was that Y/N made her feel so vulnerable to touch, like all of her strength had been eased in a way, sometimes she felt like her body was on fire typically speaking when she'd feel his touch in certain areas of her body.

It all had built up to the point she couldn't take it anymore, deciding to take it a step further and give herself to him, the two done the deed first in the sky at her request, with her keeping him up with her, before they finished in the bedroom after what seemed to be two hours of love-making... And the two may have broke a sofa during that period of time.

It had been a few weeks since those events, Y/N was currently coming home from work, while Supergirl had arrived back home after a strange encounter while fighting alongside her allies on a mission.

A strange form of Kryptonite that was the color of a periwinkle blue and violet had been found and Kara was exposed to it, upon taking down the threat, she was requested to be checked up upon and whatever the scans showed, it didn't really do much at all to her body, she didn't feel weak or nauseous, she did feel... A little different however after she opted to return home.

And it soon began to show as she was flying back home to New York, the thought of Y/N in her head with dirty thoughts came to mind, she didn't know where they came from, but she began to suddenly feel that way about him, feeling all flustered, bothered and hot even.

Upon returning, she couldn't keep the thoughts contained and immediately went to her shared wardrobe with her boyfriend, and pulled out a spare, unused suit she hasn't even used before, but she only kept it for a "special" occasion, it reminded her of her old blouse outfit, only that it was more revealing than the original. The family House of El crest on the right hand side of her right breast.

Her super hearing kicked in once she heard her boyfriend's voice. "Yeah! Cheers for the lift, mate! See you next week!" he called out to the driver, a work friend of his. He had arrived home earlier than he's supposed to be.

What she didn't know was that her ally, Batgirl aka Barbara Gordon had texted Y/N that Kara was exposed to a new form of Kryptonite earlier before she began flying back to their home, which had made Y/N worried and called to get an early leave, coming up with an excuse that "my girlfriend's fallen ill and has no one to help her", his boss fortunately took the excuse and allowed him go home, being picked up by his work friend who drove him home after.

She quickly put on the short cape that was with her outfit, adjusted the hot pants and boots with heels before she quickly looked at herself in a mirror, whatever her actions were now? It could be the periwinkle Kryptonite causing her to do this, and she knew this, she hadn't felt this hot and bothered like this before. 

Her super hearing kicked in again, now overhearing her boyfriend rush up the stairs in quick effort.

"Perfect!" Kara said with a smile on her face, striking a hands to hips pose before driving one of her hands up her bare legs. Turning around to see the back of herself, eyes falling on the yellow S on her cape and then the hot pants where she shook her ass for a second "Now, time to surprise my boyfriend!".

She walked toward and stood just around the corner as soon as she heard the door opening after a minute, in came her boyfriend who closed the door behind him after placing down his bag onto the ground. Kara may work as an on and off actress, Y/N worked as an electrical engineer full-time, only working from Mondays to Thursdays every week.

"Babe! You okay?! Babs messaged about what happened" he called out, worried about her which warmed her heart.

"Oh, I'm okay" she walked past the corner, revealing herself before striking a pose, flicking her cape and hair the next. She watched as her boyfriend's eyes widen after he blinked, his jaw beginning to drop at the sight of his girlfriend in a new-ish suit, one she hadn't used yet...

Until now...

"Hey gorgeous, I've been waiting for you ~" she gave out a flirtatious smirk toward her beloved, who was trying to catch his breath at the unexpected surprise waiting for him through the door.

For a moment, he thought Babs was pulling a prank on him by telling him Kara was affected by the new form of Kryptonite she was exposed to earlier, but there was the note of unidentified effects that Barbara had told him, telling him to be cautious and message back if anything happens, she'd be on her way to give Kara a dose to rid of the effects if it's bad.

"Uh... I-I... Wow" he wasn't sure what to say, a moment to soon, she had already gotten close to him by using super speed, a gentle whoosh blew his hair back as a devious smirk still played across the girl's face.

"You like what you see, baby? ~" she asked him, placing her hands on her breasts half covered by her opened blouse, rubbing and massaging them as Y/N felt himself began to heat up at the sight of his girlfriend in this new-ish look. "I had it sitting around, just for you ~" she teased him by removing the blue fabric for just a moment to show off the rest of her tits, giving him a little wink after before covering them again.

He still wasn't sure what to say, he was worried of course, Kara hadn't acted like this before, usually she'd be cuddly and give him a gentle peck on the cheek and lips, asking about his day at work. "Uh... I, *nervous chuckle*, I'm not even sure what to say. But you were exposed to -"

"Sshh, I know" she placed a finger on his lips, shushing him. "And I feel so fucking good right now" she said with a flirtatious tone, driving her body close to his, licking and kissing his neck right on after while keeping her arms around him. "And I'm so fucking horny for you as well, you're mine, all mine ~♡" she growled, pulling her mouth away from his neck to speak before going back in, giving him a hicky to mark him as hers.

"Ohhh, Kara" her real name spilled out of his mouth as she continued kissing and licking his neck. It was then that Supergirl decided to remove Y/N's work hoodie. He had never seen this side of the blonde superhero before, perhaps the "periwinkle Kryptonite" was making her act like this.

The Girl of Steel then levitated off the ground, carrying Y/N with her before flying him slowly to the door, where he collided his back toward the freshly painted door that had been done a few days ago, the feeling of Kara's lips on his neck began to make him feel flustered as he drove his hand through her golden locks, whereas his other hand was on the back end of Kara's small cape, feeling himself afloat by Kara's strength alone, she was up to his eye level at least.

"Oh, Kara! *effort* Babs mentioned I had to tell her about - *satisfied groan* - the effects on you" he made a shot in the dark, whilst Kara was getting a little rough on his neck, beginning to gently bite it, sealing it with little kisses and a lick before she pulled away to look at him in the eyes.

The look of hunger dawned within her sky blue irises, the pair of eyes that Y/N fell in love with before hand, she bit her lip before drawing herself closer to his lips.

"Later" she told him. "But right now... I'm so fucking hot and bothered, that I want, no, I need you" she growled with a flirtatious tone to her words, before smashing her lips against his to make out with him. "And I'm keeping this on" she mumbled into his lips.

All he could do was accept the fact Kara has complete control over the situation right now, and for one? He could care less, it was rather a stressful day at work today, Y/N sure needs this right now, 'perhaps this form of Kryptonite isn't as bad as I thought it'd be on her after all, still I should be cautious'.

Soon he began making out with her too, accepting his fate and obeying his girlfriend, his hands exploring her body before he drove them down to her bare thighs, moans escaped him and Kara as they continued making out, fighting for dominance with their tongues next.

Her one hand drove down into the pants of her boyfriend, beginning to explore the bump that had began to poke her since pinning him to the door of their shared apartment room, she dreamt one day they could get a house together, perhaps in Chicago or nearby New York, just when the time is right of course, and perhaps get married with him as she always wanted to happen one day, settle down, have a kid or two, live a normal life with her career as Supergirl still going maybe.

But right now? She wants him all to herself, she can't shake the feeling of him out of her mind, not since being exposed to the periwinkle Kryptonite earlier. She hears his satisfied groans of pleasure as she ran circles in his pants, tugging his cock.

A big smirk played across her face as she pulled back to give him some air after making out with him in that given time, still holding up afloat against the door, she takes out her hand from his pants to start removing them from his body, Y/N took this opportunity to kick off his shoes while looking his gorgeous girlfriend in the eyes.

He didn't even need to say that he loved him, the both could say it within their own eyes, Kara was hungry for him, too hungry someone would say but to Y/N? He played along with her antics whether they were her own actions mentally or not.

Supergirl bit her lip down hard as his cock was now out, free from his pants and underwear as they dropped down to the ground, right in front of the door, a smirk still playing across her face as she began to stroke it, tease it even, wanting to hear his moans and groans that turns her on more and more.

"Ah, Kara" his hands went around her back, the soft fabric of her cape resting against his hands as he explored the other bits of fabric that was her blouse. It was then that the Girl of Steel shut up his little moans with a kiss that turned into another make out session, still he moaned within her lips as their tongues danced together.

Her actions wanted to warm up his cock first, before she could get the full thing inserted within her clit, the thought made her all wet and horny just thinking about it. She didn't want to get pregnant, not yet but she wanted all his juices inside her, she took precautions to make sure she doesn't get pregnant by taking a pill that could work on her unlike the other pills provided by human doctors. Thank Kryptonian technology for that.

Y/N had never been one to be dominated before, but with Supergirl pinning him to the wall, making him unable to move and obeying her command? He had to admit that it was hot, being dominated by the Maiden of Might was a thought he never thought would happen. Kara was a mature, confident woman who wasn't afraid to flaunt her sexuality if necessary, but only some people have seen her more optimistic and cheerful side, and Y/N was one of those people, most of her friends have seen that side of her too.

He was lucky to have a woman like her, one that wasn't afraid to defend him, shield him even from any harm, thought at times she also risked her secret identity in doing so, she only did it in the name of love and protection for him.

Kara's hand stroked up and down on his cock, the skin pulling back from the tip as she drew her eyes toward his cock with a smirk after pulling back from his lips to give him a breather, a playful grin played across her lips as her eyes drew up to his.

"You like that? Don't you baby? ~" she said with a flirtatious tone in her voice still, stroking his cock up and down, up and down, picking up with speed over time, she last used her super speed to make him cum the last time they made sexual contact, that was their first time. This time, she wanted to tease his cock, warming it up for her to take in the full thing inside her pussy, she yearned for it. "You like it when I stroke your cock? Up and down, over and over, warming it up for the full course".

He nodded his head in a quick motion, notifying her that he was enjoying the hand job she was giving him. "Mhmmm Kara ~" he moaned out, Kara felt his cock in her warm hand begin to pulsate, which was more than ready for her to take in the full thing now.

An excited smile went across her face, getting all giddy about it. She then took him off the door and flew him toward the bedroom, whilst making out with him in the meantime, stroking his cock slowly as she flew toward their shared king-sized bed through memory alone, she managed to not fly into things like last time.

Soon enough, she dropped her boyfriend on the gentle and soft covers, prompting him to remove his shirt that he still had on his body. Supergirl bit her lip upon seeing his body, though she could literally use her x-ray vision to see his toned body and tight 4-pack abs herself, it drove her mad seeing them while a blush appeared on her cheeks as she smiled excitedly.

The Girl of Steel took off her red hot pants with a slow motion, giving Y/N a little show before throwing them to the side, then removing her panties before again throwing them to the side.

It was a good thing she had a smaller cape with this outfit, Y/N could see the perfect ass of his hot superhero girlfriend, she bent over to shake her ass in the air toward him, giving him a little show as a smile went across his face before she give him a little dance, pushing most of her hair to one side along with the dance.

"God, you're hot as fuck" he mumbled out toward her, making her smirk further with a flirtatious look in her expression upon turning around, facing her boyfriend as she levitated over the bed.

"Lie down" she demanded. Looking down at him with authority.

"Yes ma'am" Y/N did as he was told. His cock pointing right up toward her, giving her the nod to float down onto it.

She moved her legs out of the way in a certain position, kicking up her legs as she began to slowly float on down onto him, gently and slowly sitting onto his cock that was sliding inside of Kara's perfectly shaved pussy.

"Oh good golly, yes! ~" she moaned out with a satisfied tone, his cock slid perfectly in her as she began to ride him, moaning through her closed lips, clenching her jaw as Y/N let out a little moan upon her riding him like a cowgirl.

Kara rocked her head back, moans of pleasure escaping from her throat as her mouth began to open in ecstasy as she bounced on his cock up and down, up and down, over and over again with a slow motion, slamming down on him gently.

Y/N kept up with her bounces, pushing himself up as she bounced down on him gently, her head hung low as a hungry look appeared on her face, filled with a lust for his love making. Her eyes caught onto Y/N's as he groaned in pleasure with a little smile across his face.

"Mmm, fuck ~" he moaned out, Kara slamming down on him continuously as blushes appeared on their faces, their moans and groans lapped with each other as the bed began creaking from the Girl of Steel's efforts on riding his cock and her walls getting tighter each bounce.

Kara's short cape billowed behind her as she bounced up and down on his cock, her bounces getting faster each minute as her moans got louder, rocking her head back again with her mouth agape once more.

Y/N's hands soon began to drive up Kara's thighs before resting near her hips, noticing Kara looking back down at him with a lustrous look upon her face as a hungry smile was at the corner of her lips, driven crazy by his cock inside of her as she bounced up and down more roughly, surprisingly not breaking his femur from the way she bounced on him.

Her hands soon drove up to her breasts, pushing away the blue fabric that covered half of her breasts to begin with, showing her boyfriend her tits once again, now freed from the opened blouse, the entire outfit overall made her made her look extremely more attractive than she already was before. 

It was funny... He admitted to having both a crush on Supergirl and Linda at the same time, before he found out both were pretty much the same person months ago before they became boyfriend and girlfriend after a few dates.

"Ohhhh Y/N! ~" Kara moaned loudly after five minutes, her ass bouncing off Y/N's thighs as she squatted on Y/N's cock, with her walls getting tighter still around his manhood. "Ohhh, fuuuck, this feels so fucking good~!" she said aloud after a minute, she couldn't care if any neighbors could hear her moans of pleasure, she wanted his juices up inside her, she also wanted to cum so badly.  

Minutes had passed, with Y/N's cock beginning to pulsate within Kara's walls, giving her the notification that he was soon about to finish inside her, while his hands driving up to Kara's tits, massaging them thoroughly. Their moans lapping over each other.

"Fuuck, I'm gonna ~" he said through gritted teeth.

"Let's do it together! ~" she suggested with a loud moan.

Within a minute, Y/N pushed himself upwards as Kara did a few more bounces, moans and groans lapped over each other once again, with her moaning his name loudly while she orgasmed, she felt herself finish and his warm juices shoot up into her pussy.

One final groan escaped Y/N as he continued his orgasm, a sigh of satisfaction soon following upon finishing his orgasm inside of his girlfriend.

Soon enough, Kara crashed down on top of him, her tits and body laying atop of his toned body, his hand driving through Kara's golden locks before the two locked lips together for a deep, passionate kiss, his cock still within her pussy.

"Wow *deep breath*, that felt so good" Kara mumbled out with a satisfied breath, panting just a little while she heard his heartbeat racing. "That Kryptonite sure made me feel that way" she noted to herself loudly before pushing herself up from him, using her hands to stabilize herself atop her boyfriend.

A smile drew across his face with satisfaction, still panting from the love-making. "Hi" he greeted upon seeing her brightened up face.

A huge grin appeared on her lips, looking down at him with love on her mind. "Hi!" she greeted back before smashing her lips against his for another deep kiss, that lasted for just a minute before the blonde pulled back to let him breath, her golden hair tickling his torso right after.

"Do me a favor, Y/N, if you don't mind?".

"Yeah? Anything for you, princess" he smiled.

"Don't tell Babs about this? The uh... Effects that weird Kryptonite had on me" she pleaded, going as far to give him pleading eyes. "Let's keep this between us, yeah?".

"Of course" he said without hesitation, before grabbing her hips. "Round two?" he then suggested with a smirk across his face, ready for more. "Work was stressful today after all, and keep that on, you look fucking hot with that on".

A grin appeared on her face, smashing her lips against his again for the third time in a row, making out with him which was her answer to continue their love making...

______________________________________________________________

Fin...

Word Count: 4057

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | x.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Panic ripples through you as Ethan’s body heavily drapes over yours, his lips stealing yours for yet another ravenous kiss. 

Hopeless, your fight or flight instinct kicks in. 

You bite his lip with all your strength.

The metallic tang of Ethan’s blood spills over your tongue. 

He hisses, jerking away from you. He lets you go and air finds shelter in your lungs again.

Ethan grips his jaw, his face scrunching.

When his tongue sweeps over the blood dripping from the cut on his mouth, a dark laugh leaves Ethan’s mouth. 

The look he gives you sends a chill across your spine.

You retreat to the furthest corner of your bed, bringing your knees to your chest.

A tremulous whisper rises from your throat.

“Ethan…I think you need to go. I d-don’t feel safe right now.”

You suppose you should try to get up, dash to the door. It’s what common sense dictates. But for some reason, you’re frozen in your spot, drenched in sheer denial of what just transpired - almost transpired - on your bed. 

“Don’t feel safe? I’ll be so good to you,” he defends, spreading his fingers towards you. Bile climbs up your throat. You recoil, making yourself even smaller to avoid his touch.

Hurt paints itself over Ethan’s boyish features at your reaction. 

A contemptuous laugh bursts from his chest.

“You think any of these guys ever cared about you, ever saw you, really saw you?” he asks, his voice deeper and scarier than before. Your mouth goes slack as he continues. “Do you think any of them cares what you think or how you feel? That they’re interested in you because you’re such a great conversationalist or because you’re so funny or smart? They’re not.” A shudder slithers through you. The crimson tear on his bottom lip shimmers as his mouth stretches in a slanted grin. “All of them only want you for one thing. They just want to show you off, use you, fuck you and then t-”

A slapping echo resonates across your room as your hand flies in the direction of Ethan’s cheek.

For a while, a deathly silence blankets your room.

Ethan’s reddened cheek pulses as his gaze widens.

His head turns slowly.

He gapes at you, seeming as stunned as you are that you struck him.

You can’t remember the last time you hit someone. Maybe you never did.

But Ethan’s cruel words sank into you like a knife, jabbing at your deepest insecurities. The fact that they poured out of a friend makes it all so much worse. 

“Get out of my room, Ethan, now. I mean it or I’ll…scream for help.”

He glares at you one last time before getting to his feet.

A sigh floats from his lips as he crouches to pick up his backpack.

You tense when he pauses on the threshold, his gaze on you unusually hard. 

“In time, you’ll understand. I’m the only guy for you…just like you’re the only girl for me,” Ethan says matter-of-factly.

When the door clicks shut after his departure, you jump from your bed. Wobbly fingers rush to snap the lock back into place. 

Your short-winded breaths fill the room, coalescing with the wild hammering of your heart.

As your legs weaken underneath you, you collapse against the door. You tuck your legs against your chest as tears skip down your cheeks.

You glance at your phone from across the room. It’s lying across the mess of rumpled sheets. The very same sheets Ethan pushed you onto.

Your insides lurch.

A fresh wave of tears gathers in your eyes as your lashes flutter shut.

There’s nothing you want more than to call your friends right now, hear a familiar voice, feel a warm embrace…but you can’t.

He made sure of that. 

So you let your sobs grow louder as you wrap your arms around yourself as tight as you can. 

It’s a blessing you don’t run into Ethan the following week. To your astonishment, he doesn’t attend any of the classes you two share, most notably Econ and Psych 101. You find yourself staring at the empty seat he used to occupy a lot of the time. Every time you do, a confounding blend of emotions stirs inside you, one you still haven’t fully untangled. 

Part of you is hurt, of course. You never imagined such a side lay dormant in Ethan. It was like he turned into a different person that night. And the things he said to you…your chest twinges whenever you remember the utter viciousness of those words.

Those are the kind of things you’ve heard from others before. But you never expected in a million years to hear them coming from him.

Yet another part of you…feels guilty. What if it’s like Mindy suggested one time? What if you caused that by leading him on, sending him signals without meaning to? 

You always tried your best to be a good friend to Ethan but maybe he misread things you told him or even the way you acted around him… and you ended up becoming a bad friend instead.

The heartbreak that glistened in his eyes that night is still etched in your mind. You hurt him, and you loathe that you did. Despite what happened, you can’t help but still care about him. 

You can’t forget the moments you shared together, how he was there for you when you needed it most. You hate the idea of one awful moment ruining your friendship. 

You also refuse to believe this is who Ethan is. It can’t be. His emotions must have gotten the better of him. Maybe he too feels horrible about the situation. After all, he's all but disappeared this week. Hopefully in time, you both can apologize to each other. 

One day perhaps. Because right now you can barely stomach the thought of being anywhere near him.

The events of that night are still so fresh. 

Engulfed in your gloomy musings, you bump into someone else. The books in your arm scatter across the hallway floor. 

You crouch to pick them up and so does the other person. 

“It’s okay. I got it.”

The sound of the familiar voice has your head snap up.

Emotions swell in your chest as a warm smile you’ve sorely missed crowds your line of sight.

“Hey, it’s been a while…” Anika gingerly remarks.

For a while, you soak in her presence. You grow overwhelmed, the plethora of things you wish you could say to her scorching your lips. 

Then the harshness of reality crashes upon you. 

You can’t talk to Anika. You can’t talk to anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, on the cusp of scampering in the other direction but Anika’s hand on your arm stops you. You flinch at the light touch.

Anika’s forehead puckers. She retreats her hand and cocks her head sideways.

“Is something wrong?” she inquires, her soft tone laced with concern.

Hasty words roll off your tongue. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Anika’s scrutiny prickles your skin. It’s obvious she doesn’t fully believe you, her stare lingering on the hickeys Ethan peppered over your neck. You self-consciously brush your fingers over them.

You’re thankful when she doesn’t address them and switches topics. 

“You know there’s a party for Chad and Mindy’s birthday this week,” she reminds, gauging your reaction.

“Yeah, I know.”

Of course, you know. How could you forget? Every year, you used to look forward to it. You even have an alarm for it on your phone. Before everything, you even discussed potential plans to go on a group trip to Chicago.

You can’t see yourself being a part of that now.

“They’re both really hoping you’ll be able to come.”

You nudge a feeble smile on your face.

“I’m late for cheer practice, Anika.”

“Whatever’s going on…You know I’m always here for you, right?”

You freeze. A terrifying echo in a deeper voice swells in your mind.

I’m always here for you, you know that.

Collecting your books from her hands, you rush past her as she tosses you a sad look.

“I gotta go. Tell Chad and Mindy I can’t make it. I’m sorry.”

You don’t glance back as you head to the locker room, afraid you’ll fall to pieces if you do.

You just changed into your cheerleader outfit when your phone vibrates. You sigh, hoping it isn’t Chad again. He’s been blowing up your phone nonstop within the last few days. You surmise he’s also trying to convince you to attend his and his sister’s birthday. 

You can’t even face him right now. What if he suspected something? You shudder to think how he’d react. You can’t see it boding well for Ethan. 

Chewing on your lip, you retrieve your phone from your gym bag. 

You swipe your thumb down to open the notification floating atop the screen.

A video fills the screen and your gaze bulges at what you see. 

Your fingers wobble around the device, your mouth falling open in horror.

A crying Quinn sits on a chair in a dusky room, tied up with thick ropes and her mouth covered with duct tape. Smudged mascara streaks down her freckled cheeks, her pleading gaze seeming to dive right into yours. 

Your breath hitches as you watch Ghostface skulk around her chair, his sharp blade tracing the side of her neck while she sobs. 

Dread twists your insides.

A string of messages appears below the video.

Come to this address alone right now or she dies.

Tell anyone and she dies.

Call the cops and she dies.

Tick, tock, princess.

You shake your head, a wave of queasiness clutching your senses. 

Not again. 

You frantically copy the address included in the message before pasting it into your ride-hailing app. 

The app indicates that your driver will arrive in five minutes outside the gates of campus so you make a beeline for the exit door.

You gasp as Alana blocks your path, standing akimbo in front of the door with a scowl on her face.

“Are you seriously leaving right now?” she asks, her shrill, accusing tone like a whip. “We’re about to rehearse the new routine. The next game is in three weeks.”

You shrink, your features scrunching apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Alana, but… something came up. Something important.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Are you really…You know what?” She tosses her hands up in the air, stepping to the side to make room for you. “I give up. I’ve had it with you and your drama.” She narrows her icy blue eyes at you. “If you leave today, don’t bother coming back.”

“O-Okay,” you stammer, your gut sinking. Cheerleading was the one thing you had, the one thing that wasn’t going completely off the rails. Now you don’t even have that anymore.

Suppressing the budding tears behind your eyes, you take a deep breath and take a firm stride towards the door.

Alana’s jaw drops when you remove the bow in your hair and throw it at her feet.

She gave it to you when you joined the team.

You don’t look back as you brush past her and shove the door open.

“I want my uniform back on Monday,” she hisses.

Your chest clenches, but there’s no time to process yet another crushing disappointment, all your thoughts turning to Quinn.

She needs you right now. 

So you race across campus as if your feet were on fire.

You all but lunge inside the car waiting for you, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ to the man who casts you a dirty look. You slip him an extra twenty so he drives a little faster, heart pounding wildly against your ribcage.

He ends up dropping you off in front of an abandoned theater.

You get the heebie-jeebies as you peer at the building with the crumbling facade and shattered lights. Diving inside it requires every ounce of courage you possess.

Fearful steps lead you to the lobby. The eerie stillness around you makes your nerves sing.

You steal a glimpse at the popcorn machine, the spider webs you spot inside sparking a shiver through your frame.

You slink through the wide open doors of the first hall you see. Stomach tight, you drag your feet forward. The freezy winds fluttering through the room skate across your skin as you enter. 

You rub your arms, nervousness growing at the sight of the empty theater seats.

You swallow the lump nestled in your throat. You truly are on your own.

After a quick survey, you find Quinn, bound to her chair amidst the center stage.

Relief floods your insides.

You sprint directly to her and climb onto the stage.

The first thing you do is remove the duct tape covering her mouth.

“Quinn! Oh my god, are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Her bright green eyes follow your motions in silence as you begin untying her, a little taken aback by how easily the ropes come off, requiring barely any effort to yank loose.

Once you’re done, Quinn stands up and rubs her wrists. 

“Quinn?” you repeat, worried by her strange quietness. Maybe she’s too traumatized to speak. 

She cracks her neck backwards, stretching it before her gaze lands on you again.

Her lips stretch in a slow, wide grin. 

She then bursts out in laughter.

Your brows knit as you fall back, confused. Your voice trickles out in a tremulous whisper.

“W-Why are you laughing?”

She slants her head to the side.

“You were right, big bro. She actually fell for it,” she says before letting out an impressed whistle. She chortles. “Not a very bright one, is she?”

“I mean, I told you she would.”

You whirl at once, shocked to hear the last person you’d expect to find here. You tremble as you come face to face with Ghostface.

Befuddlement has you blinking. You could have sworn you heard an all too familiar voice rising from behind the mask.

“W-What’s going on?” 

Ghostface chuckles then removes his mask. The air is knocked from your lungs when his identity is revealed to you. You feel as if the entire world just fell on top of you.

“What going on is that you’re fucked, princess,” Ethan states, a terrible smile spreading onto his lips. “Well, not quite yet…” His lecherous gaze drags over your quivering frame. “But we’ll get there eventually.”

Tears well up in your eyes. 

“Ethan? No…”

His smile broadens. “Yes,” he replies, seeming to relish your reaction.

Your lip quakes as a shuddering sob spills from your throat.

“You’re Ghostface?” you whimper.

He shakes the mask in your face before tossing it away.

“Well, duh,” he chimes. A glint of excitement bounces in his chestnut orbs. “You should have seen the way Connor and Tyler squealed like pathetic little pigs when I stabbed them over and over…” Bloodlust distorts his features. You back away, a fear like no other gripping your throat. “…And over. That was hilarious. Especially Connor. Fuck, it felt good to kill him. That conceited, condescending alpha bro.”

“Why?”

“Because they had no business touching what’s mine,” Ethan replies like it’s obvious.

Your eyes widen as it sinks in that Ethan’s referring to you. On instinct, you leap off the stage and start fleeing in the other direction.

Your mind short-circuits with the onslaught of troubling facts, the chaotic drumming of your pulse filling your ears. 

Ethan is Ghostface…and Quinn is helping him. They even appear related somehow.

You don’t want to believe it but there’s no denying what you witnessed with your own eyes.

Before you can get too far, an abrupt pain blooms at the back of your skull, sending you keeling over the edge of the stage. You wail and curl on the floor, the agony numbing enough to keep you from rising again.

Twirling a baseball bat in her hand, Quinn bends over you. Her form blurs in your sight as you groan.

“Oh, poor thing. I hope I didn’t hit her too hard. You okay, sugar? How many fingers am I holding up?”

She waves her hand in front of you.

“F-Four,” you mindlessly answer.

She perks up at that.

“Attagirl. She’s all yours, big bro. I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Ethan nods at his sister - a fact your mind still grapples with - before crouching next to you. He picks you up and cradles your head against his chest. You feebly punch him and he mutters against your temple, “Shh, princess. Don’t fight it.” A rag is suddenly pressed against your mouth, its cloying scent invading your nostrils. Your lashes turn heavy. Your punches grow even weaker till you slump against Ethan. “There you go. Good girl.” 

Spots of darkness creep the edges of your vision until it’s all there is…darkness, and the dwindling echo of Ethan’s sickeningly tender voice mooring you amidst it.

You awake in a strange and obscure bedroom, the only meager light coming from a single window above you. You wince, your head heavy as you move it. As soon as you try to shift on the bed, you realize something is restricting your wrists’ range of motion.

Gasping, you look up. Your stomach sinks as you take note of the metal cuffs binding you to the headboard of the bed.

Your gaze lowers. 

Panic swells in your chest when you see Ethan standing at the foot of the bed.

A smirk decorates his mouth as he watches you struggle.

“Ethan, why am I tied up?” you squeak, almost afraid to know the answer.

You tense as he climbs on the bed, crawling his way to you. Hovering above you, Ethan places his hand on your cheek. 

“It’s much better that way, princess, so you don’t hurt yourself trying to escape,” he explains like it’s the soundest logic in the world, despite how insane this is. 

“Look, Ethan…” you start, carefully pondering your words. Who knows what he’ll do if you say or do the wrong thing? He’s killed people and he could just as easily kill you. You force a quivering smile onto your face. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I had no idea. Please, let me go. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

Caressing your cheek, Ethan hums, “Oh, I accept your apology, princess and I know you were too stupid to notice…” He bends over you until his mouth skims over your earshell. “But I’m still gonna fuck you.”

Ice spills into your veins. 

Ethan collects the single stray tear sliding over your cheek, bringing it against the seam of his lips with a wide, satisfied smile.

“No, Ethan, please, I’ve never…” you beseech, tugging at your restraints again. Utter helplessness engulfs you as you realize how trapped you are.

Excitement waltzes in his orbs, his eyes crinkling. He cradles your face and smiles down at you endearingly.

“Really? So I’m your first? God this is even sweeter.” He slots his lips over yours, ensnaring them in a slow, heated kiss. The salt of your tears coats both of your tongues. When he lets you breathe again, his forehead falls against yours. Elation drips from his deep, enamored timbre. “You really are my dream girl, you know that?”

He kisses you again, silencing every protest with his mouth. Ethan maps his hunger for you all over your body, sprinkling scorching pecks over your neck, chest and navel and slowly undressing you at the same time. He grabs your boobs and starts fondling them, his tongue swirling over your nipple. 

An uncomfortable heat begins to bloom between your legs, your breathing growing uneven. 

As you feel Ethan’s hard-on press into your thigh, adrenaline rushes through your blood.

“Ethan, don’t…” you beg, your helplessness reaching a peak as he slithers down your frame and parts your thighs. 

He slides your panties to the side. Your heart leaps.

Ethan’s gaze flares devilishly. You only get a glimpse of brown curls before he dives between your legs. 

Words falter on your tongue. Your mind blanks with pleasure as his tongue traces maddening patterns over your bundle of nerves, endlessly teasing it. Broken moans roll off your tongue.

Chest heaving, your back arches on the sheets.

“Fuck, your pussy tastes even better than I imagined, princess,” he lauds, the vibrations from his voice rocking through your core. Your breath catches as coils tighten in your belly.

Ethan devours your cunt until you see stars, coming on his mouth with a sudden shout. He greedily purrs against your folds and licks your arousal as it rains on his tongue.

Before you can even recover from your haze, Ethan sinks one finger inside your wet heat. Your breath hitches at the intrusion.

A sinister chuckle leaves his lips.

“You’re so goddamn tight. You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” He hooks his finger inside you, drawing a sharp hiss from you. He smiles down at your squirming form. “This is perfect. We’re gonna be each other’s firsts. Kinda romantic, right princess?”

Ethan groans, seemingly frustrated as he shifts against you.

He leans back and begins undoing his pants. Your stomach clenches. You kick your feet and sob, despair raging inside you. Ethan unleashes a deep, weary sigh before seizing your wrists and slamming them into the headboard.

A pain so intense rings through your bones, you’re shocked your wrists don’t shatter on the spot. You let out an ear-splitting scream. 

He cocks his head, pity flashing across his face.

“Stop moving so damn much. You’re gonna hurt yourself, princess.” You gape at him through your tear-streaked vision. How can he say that when he’s the one hurting you? A soft smile stretches his lips as he squeezes your wrists even more, making your bones grind against one another. “And scream as loud as you want, pretty girl. No one can hear you here.”

You whine as he releases your throbbing wrists. 

His thumb then traces your shuddering mouth. Ethan’s teeth sink into his lip. He cups your face and rasps, “Fuck, I wanted to take it slow…But my balls feel like they’re about to burst, princess.” His pupils inflate with lust. “Why do you have to sound so fucking hot?”

It’s all the warning you get before Ethan hastily lowers his pants and buries himself inside you in one blunt thrust. 

The searing pain steals the breath from your lungs. You feel as if you’ll tear, Ethan’s thick girth stretching you to your limit. The cuffs slice into your flesh as you yank on them desperately. 

“God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he says, his voice hoarse with need. 

“Ethan, please, it hurts,” you beg, tears streaming down your face. 

He peppers tender kisses over your damp cheeks. 

“It’s okay, princess. It only hurts at first…I think.” He unleashes an awkward laugh. 

Ethan drags out of you before shoving inside you to the hilt again. You wail, your core burning at the friction. 

He starts moving, his rising grunts mingling with the wet slap of his skin into yours.

The bed rattles loudly underneath both of you.

Your watery eyes rise to the ceiling in search of a fleeting escape. But Ethan doesn’t allow you that, corralling your jaw so you’re forced to peer into his hungry gaze.

“Stay with me, princess,” he orders, squeezing your jaw painfully whenever you try to look away.

He wraps your legs around his taut hips, piledriving into you. You jolt as he hits a spot that makes your mouth part in a soundless scream. 

Forehead resting against yours, Ethan pounds inside you faster. He reaches between your bodies, pinching your clit. Your vision flickers, your legs turning liquid as you come apart around him. Ethan moans as your walls tighten around his cock. When you come back to yourself, shame fills you. You never wanted this. In fact you hate it. So why is your body surrendering to him so easily?

More tears flood your vision.

“I guess that makes us official,” he chuckles against your temple. “We’ll have to tell everyone the good news.”

He nuzzles your neck and you feel sick. 

His low tone vibrates against your flesh as he warns, “And don’t even think about trying to get away from me. Because if you do…” He pauses, his hips snapping into yours even faster than before. “I’ll kill every single one of your little friends and make you watch while I do.” He grins down at you, fondling your cheek. You choke on a sob. Ethan hums, fingers digging into your ass, “I’ll start with that bitch Mindy, then Anika…and then that asshole Chad.”

“Do you understand, princess?”

He fucks you harder and you whimper. When you stay silent, his large hand wraps around your throat, your pulse thrumming beneath his palm. 

Ethan’s jaw clenches, his eyes darkening.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” he rumbles, his bruising grip on your throat dangerously tight.

“I-I understand, Ethan,” you sputter. 

A wide smile blooms on his features at your agreement. His hold on your neck slackens. Soon after, his pace slows, his thrusts turning sloppier. He goes still above you, his dick twitching inside you. You shudder as a sticky warmth glazes your walls. 

Ethan nestles his head in the crook of your neck. He purrs in pleasure, still sheathed inside you as silent tears skip down your cheeks.

You wished he’d move away, let you process the horror of what he just did to you. Instead he rolls both of your bodies to the side and hugs you tight against him. You cringe as Ethan sprinkles soft kisses over your face, lingering on your lips.

He then traces the heart-shaped scar he carved on your chest during that awful Halloween night before placing a kiss on it too.

His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek, pure bliss painting his features. 

“Good girl,” he praises.

~