#but so is telling someone their whole life that not only do people not care abt them as much as their sibling
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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™
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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.
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#fanfic#sebastian sallow#ao3 author#hogwarts legacy fandom#fanfiction#archive of our own#hogwarts legacy#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow fanfiction#hogwarts oc#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts legacy sebastian#ominis gaunt#hurt/comfort#fluff and romance#fluff and angst#angst#coming of age#friends to lovers#not actually unrequited love#mutual pining#miscommunication#slow burn#angst with a happy ending
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Hi teecup! I hope you're doing well! :3
I am sick and that means I have an idea.
A/b/o RobDes (Robert x Desmond) (yes the Robert that you're thinking about kknpkjknnknl)
And as usual Desmond is the omega BECAUSE-
I have a weird fascination with Robert.. and his.. bald dented head (I know it's a scar but it looks like a dent to me)
You know what would make this even more interesting? If Desmond was the baby brother of Altaïr. (yeah Altaïr is an alpha :3) And Desmond's existence is kept a secret because he's an omega. And Altaïr can get very overprotective too so that doesn't help.
Robert kidnaps Desmond not knowing that it wasn't Altaïr. And shinanigins happen in the Templar base
And uhh yeah that's all I got. OH AND Maria is an alpha and she and Desmond are besties.
That's all!
Desmond may be an omega but he was (secretly) trained by his brother to be able to kick ass and run away quickly.
Honestly, it wasn’t even Robert’s plan to kidnap ‘Altaïr’. The Templars learn of the traitor’s favorite attack dog and the remnants of Basilisk’s faction (which Robert had taken care of after the man’s death to stabilize his rule) figured that presenting said attack dog to Robert would be their ticket to safety.
Then Robert realized that they gave him some random omega (they don’t know what Altaïr looks like) from Masyaf, they get killed.
Robert tries to be a gentleman since this is all a misunderstanding and he has no qualm with omegas in general but the omega tries to kill him so he had to lock up the omega.
That’s where Maria comes in.
Maria becomes Desmond’s guard because she has the self-control of a monk that had let go of all connection to the physical world.
Or, as Desmond calls it, the self-control of someone who actually cares about other people’s consent and boundaries.
Really, revolutionary stuff in this time.
Yes.
Because Desmond remembers dying in Dec 21, 2012.
Not only that…
Desmond was an alpha back then.
He has made peace with being an omega this time around. In all honesty, he preferred being an omega because (1) no one looks at him like he was a failure because no one expects anything of him from the start and (2) it was easy to keep an eye on Altaïr and help him have a better life this time around as his omega twin.
Sure, Altaïr was overprotective and keeps saying that all alphas are scum (“you’re an alpha too” “yes and I’m also a scum, never trust any alpha”)
And he had been planning to kill Robert but he’d take corrupting Maria to become a turncoat as a consolation prize instead.
Honestly, he has fucked up this timeline so badly that he doesn’t even know if Maria and Altaïr would end up together because Desmond accidentally matched Altaïr and Kadar (who was an omega).
Who knows? Maybe they can make it a threesome, Desmond is honestly just hoping Altaïr doesn’t get the wrong idea and assume Maria is a scum alpha going after his younger brother like every other alpha out there in his eyes.
Anyway…
His corruption was going well, he thinks, until Robert starts visiting.
And just… talking to him.
It’s even weirder when his visits turned into daily afternoon tea and Desmond is full on suspicious of what Robert is trying to pull.
Robert, on the other hand, honestly just wants to get to know Desmond because…
He believes they’re fated mates.
Desmond seemed to have no idea that they are though so he’s trying to woo him.
Desmond, on the other hand, mistakes it (sorta?) to mean that Robert fell in love with him and…
Well…
The power an omega wielded over an alpha was dependent on the alpha’s personality.
And Robert…
… was a pushover.
(He’s not. He’s absolutely not. Maria knows he’s not. Maria also believes Desmond is a sweet innocent omega who might faint if she tells him that the alpha courting him was only a kind gentleman to people he likes and the only person in that list is Desmond)
So… to test Robert, Desmond requested that he be returned home and for Robert to court him and do the whole ‘shebang’ in the presence of all of Masyaf.
Al Mualim can’t do shit because Robert comes in peace and everyone agrees that the sanctity of courting should be upheld.
Altaïr is totally against it and Al Mualim has to play more or less as referee between the two while trying to sabotage this so he would have an excuse to attack the Templars.
“What do you see in him?”
It was a good question. The kind of question Desmond expected from his twin brother.
He knew Al Mualim would start scheming and shit if he was to reply that Robert was a pushover for omegas.
So he just says…
“I like his bald head.”
Smashcut to Altaïr trying to shave off Malik’s hair because Malik is a much better choice than some Templar scum.
Malik does not want to have to do anything about this entire thing. He also considers Desmond as an omega brother like Kadar and does not want to mate with him so, really, the two of them are wrestling at this point.
#assassin's creed#ask and answer#fic idea: assassin's creed#teecup writes/has a plot#omegaverse#desmond miles#robert de sable#altaïr ibn la'ahad#robdes#desbert#idk
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Osculate - Jung Hoseok / J-Hope
Prompt: You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: friends to lovers, producer! Hobi, slight drama, slow burn(?), mentions of cheating ex
Pairing: Hoseok x she/her reader
a/n: Welcome back Hobi <3 this is my first time writing about him! Also this turns to be longer than expected but we love the drama hehe
The gentle touch.
The soft feel of a pair of lips touching yours for a brief moment.
You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?
The thoughts were going on circles in your head.
The first thing you realized when you woke up was a pang of headache. Of course, you were supposed to listen to your friends. Maybe drinking gin straight from the bottle wasn’t such a good idea. Of course it was not, but your ex was in the function.
The worse part was that he couldn’t even be considered as an ex. It had been a little over six months since the whole drama with Jaehyun. You went through somewhat of a situationship with him. Honestly, you liked the guy, couldn’t exactly say you had strong feelings for him, but you both agreed to enjoy the flow and get to know each other at a slow pace. For two months you both did all things couples do without any label, but it was not the main problem cause you had a conversation before about it… right? WRONG. He had a girlfriend the whole time. What a joke.
Truth to be told, you were not that upset to see his face there. To you, even though he had basically ruined your perspective of men forever, it was all in the past. You couldn’t forgive him but there was nothing you could really do, life was just like that sometimes. What disheartened you was your friends inviting him in the first place.
You had only ever told the whole story to two of them, that being Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon was the one who you called the first second you found out, and Jungkook the next day since you knew Jaehyun from him after all. You hoped that telling him would at least make him consider their friendship and to not trust him anymore, but you continued to see him occasionally in the photos of their stories.
Maybe Namjoon and Jungkook never told the others about it, it wasn’t their fault that Taehyung didn’t know and decided to invite him to his birthday party. Who knows, who cares. You were on your sixth shot of the night and you were feeling emotional. Fuck your friends for being insensitive really.
Soon after the shots turned into drinking directly from the bottle, the memories were quick to fade away in a blur.
“How did I even get here…” You mumbled to yourself. You still had the mini dress from last night on, but you were wearing your hoodie on top of it. You wondered if this happened because the person who helped you knew where you kept your hoodies. Coming from the party, the only people who could possibly knew that information were probably Namjoon, but that man couldn’t drive to safe his life. Was it Jin? After all he also had been to your place a few times before to play some video games, at least he knew where your bedroom was.
The noise coming from your kitchen did sound suspicious though.
“Hoseok?!”
You were very surprised to find him, considering he had never been to your place before and you couldn’t remember any major interaction with him the night before.
“Finally!” His smile almost blinded you. “You alright? Sorry I had to use your kitchen, but I made us some pancakes.”
“I’m fine, thank you… I uh… what happened?” You said, sitting down on your dining table.
“You got super drunk last night, long story short I got you here. Namjoon helped but he had to leave. We were worried to leave you alone, so that's why I'm here. Thank God you got your keys on a carabiner on your belt, or else we wouldn’t be here.”
“Gosh, what happened in between?”
“Nothing much, you were just dancing around, spilled drink on Taehyung and his girlfriend, not sure it was an accident though, and unfortunately you couldn’t make it to the ladies restroom so you puked right in front of the door.”
“Shit…” You facepalmed. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Come on, I’ve seen you drunk before it’s fine.” He said while placing the pancakes on two different plates.
“But it wasn’t like this.” You shook your head.
“It’s fine.” He smiled, somehow the look in his eyes softened. “After what happened with Jaehyun, honestly… I get it.”
“Oh.” You looked down to your lap. “Did Namjoon tell you?”
He paused, finally taking a seat next to you on your small dining table. “You kinda told me last night…”
“Of course I did.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Sorry for trauma dumping, I guess.”
“You don’t remember anything?!”
“I don’t remember anything after I finished that bottle of Bombay Sapphire.” You shrugged, bitting your inner cheek.
“That’s… unfortunate.” He flashed a disappointed grin. “Although I must say, I’ve always secretly hated that guy for no reason, glad to finally have one.” He sneered.
You looked at him amusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me before?!”
“Dunno, I just feel like I don’t have anything to backup my opinion and I saw how you looked at him. I just knew you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”
“Fair.” You said with a spoonful of pancake in your mouth.
“Hey, I’ve told you this yesterday but I’m gonna repeat myself again since you don’t remember anything,” He smiled, moving his body to face your direction. “It’s not your fault. He did that because he’s a bad person and that has nothing to do with your quality as a human being.”
You sighed. “Seems like I done told you my insecurities as well.” You threw a sad smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“If you ever need validation again, come to me. But I’ll be charging you next time.” He grinned and proudly opened his arms.
You laughed. “The pancake’s lowkey fire though, I must say. I’ll treat you a meal next time.”
You ended up ordering some Chinese food while watching old Harry Potter movies in the background. Somehow the conversation just kept going and you didn’t know before that hanging with Hoseok was this much of fun. You even let him borrow an oversized T-shirt of yours before going home, since you felt bad that he was still with what he wore yesterday.
You had fun and the question of a faint memory soon left your mind. Why bother? It was probably just a stranger that you would rather not know about.
From later getting the meal you promised him, the friendship only continued to blossom more from there.
**
It was a random day after work when you decided to join Yoongi and Namjoon in their studio. Hoseok was supposed to join later after visiting his parents. The cool thing about having producer friends was that you could basically get free early listen to various singers’ songs. And their studio being very cozy and spacious was also a plus point. The company they worked for was also quite chill about visitors.
“Jimin just texted me, he said he wants to join just for the preview of the song I’m writing for Megan Thee Stallion.” Namjoon said after reading his text.
“Isn’t his dance class not done until eight or something?” You asked.
“He recently switched to morning shift, I heard. Something about being too old to teach in that hour.” Yoongi chuckled.
“He always say that, but I just know he’s gonna be the healthiest when we are old, cause all of us have jobs that requires multiple hours of sitting down. Unlike him.” You said.
“Ain’t that right.” Yoongi groaned, suddenly fixing his posture. “By the way, where’s Hobi?”
“Didn’t he tell you? He’s visiting his parents so he’ll be a little late.” You replied.
“Just found out about that now.” Namjoon replied, suddenly eyeing Yoongi suspiciously.
“Well, he’ll probably just be an hour late so don’t worry.”
“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot, I see.” Namjoon said. “Even heard you calling him Hobi now too.”
“All thanks to that drunk accident, I found out over trauma dumping that I actually like hanging out with him.” You shrugged.
“Geez, don’t remind me. It was so hard to convince you to come home that day.” Joon complained.
“Wait, speaking of that day…”
You had heard the story about when you got drunk and what happened in between. But none of their stories ever mentioned about you kissing someone, which was ironic considering that was actually the only part that you faintly remembered about that night. You were sure you were not dreaming, fantasizing even. You knew it was real. You just needed to know with whom it happened, if any chance your friend witnessed the scene.
“Did you guys see me kissing anyone that night?” You looked at the guys back and forth.
“You kissed someone?!” Namjoon gaped. “This is another news to me.”
“I didn’t even see you half of the party cause you were mostly at the dance floor and I never even left the table.” Yoongi said.
You sighed. “I guess it’s probably just some stranger then. I just hope it’s not Jaehyun, because hell no.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.
“Can’t be him, he was also mostly at our table. Only left after you spilled drink all over Tae and his girl. We got you home right after that.” Namjoon explained.
“I need to thank you for that, cause heaven knows that fucker wouldn’t stop talking about his new job and how much pay he gets now. Like dude, shut up.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know if Joon or Jungkook ever told you but… something horrible happened between me and Jaehyun.” You looked at Yoongi.
“I never told them, neither did Jungkook. We thought it wasn’t our place to say so. Looking back at what happened though, we should’ve said something. I’m sorry.” The taller guy said, looking at you with concern in his eyes.
“It’s fine, I totally get it.” You assured Namjoon. “Me and Jaehyun used to have this situationship thing going on, until I found out that he has a girlfriend.” You said to Yoongi.
“He has a girlfriend?!” Yoongi asked with widened eyes. You knew it was serious when he started to show a big reaction.
“Yeah, I don’t think he intends to tell you guys about it too, to maintain his image and all.”
“That shithead told us he only has two exes and barely go on dates.” Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Why are we still friends with him??? This is fucked up!”
“Jungkook didn’t know the whole story, it’s my fault.” Namjoon spoke again.
“Guys, it’s fine… I don’t expect you to stop hanging out with someone just because they wronged me.”
“Uh, you should???” Yoongi protested. “You are our friend too.”
Your heart softened at the reaction. “I don’t want you guys to fight though…”
“We could just stop inviting him to our hangout.” Yoongi shrugged.
“We need to tell the others about this, are you sure you’re okay with that?” Namjoon asked, his right hand patting your shoulder.
“I guess it’s about time.” You sighed. “Just please promise me you’ll hold Jin down in case he wants to throw hands.” You folded your arms, holding back a smile.
Namjoon laughed. “I’ll make sure of that.”
Just seconds later, you heard the door cracked open.
“You guys are gossiping without me???”
Hobi spoke as he entered the studio. He was wearing a jacket, which he took off right upon entering the room, revealing his black T-shirt that now seemed to be slowly transforming into a compression tee with him going to the gym lately.
“Does he know?” Yoongi asked.
You nodded.
“What? What are you talking abou— Oh… don’t tell me it’s about that loser…”
Yoongi’s lips popped a “yup” while Namjoon just sighed.
“We can finally agree that we should never invite him ever again now, right?” Hoseok said as he took his designated chair.
“One hundred percent.” Namjoon said, nodding. “By the way, have you ask Hobi if he saw?” The guy pointed at Hoseok while looking at you.
“Oh.” Your eyebrows raised. “Actually no, I haven’t. Hobi, did you see me kiss anyone at the party?”
Suddenly, the said guy choked on nothing. He quickly fixed his tinted sunglasses, only to then awkwardly take them off, putting them on the table next to his keyboard.
“I’m sorry, what?!” Hoseok straightened his posture.
“I’m sure it’s not that much of a surprise, you’re overreacting.” You chuckled.
“I don’t know… maybe? Who knows. Do you even remember where it happened?”
You looked at the guy with slight skepticism. “I don’t know. I can’t even remember the face. I remember the feeling??? If that’s not TMI.” You faked a cartoonish shiver.
“Did you not… like it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” You tilted your head slightly, pondering. “I remember feeling really soft lips, and I actually don’t remember disliking it in any way. But I don’t even know if I was the one who initiated the kiss.”
“I see.” The guy turned away to face his computer screen. “At least you liked it.”
“I guess so.” You shrugged.
Jimin later joined as promised. Both of you quietly listened as the three producers continued on their work. You went out for dinner afterwards and Hobi offered to drive you home, since you used public transport.
There was a bit of oddity in his action’s that night towards you but you couldn’t put a finger on what. He just seemed a like he was holding back something and you didn’t know why.
You also wondered since when did you start to notice how attractive Hoseok was. Had he always been this way? You were sure he did not change that much from the first day you got to know him. Because lately, he had been glowing, his smile looked extra bright, and the hair looked extra fluffy.
Sure his fashion taste had developed over the years but he still looked pretty much the same. Maybe you were just dumb not to realize it sooner. Or maybe it’s the new workout routine. Yes, it must be that.
**
You found yourself hanging out yet again at the three’s studio. This time with only Hoseok, since he got something he needed to revise. You were nearby and decided to drop by with some pizzas, knowing how often these guys forgot to eat while working. After texting the group chat, you found out Hobi was the only one there, but the pizza had been bought anyway so you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.
“Man, remember when you used to be such a fanboy for J.cole? Can’t believe you’re producing for him now. I’m so proud of you, man.” You took a bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in your hand.
“I know right? I can’t believe he randomly came across my SoundCloud archive.” He grinned happily.
“You should try, you know… being an artist? You even dance well. Jimin’s words not mine.”
“Nah, I don’t think I can handle the fame.” He shooed. “Besides, I don’t think I look good enough to be an idol.” He laughed.
“Are you kidding me?!”
That sounded way too loud from what you intended.
“Why? You actually think I look handsome or something???” He said with a judgy expression, almost as if he couldn’t believe you.
“Hasn’t anyone actually told you that?”
“Uh… no, I don’t think so— why though???” He seemed truly curious. His eyes visibly widened and he scoffed closer with his chair.
“Don’t fucking ask why!” You retrieved, actually moving away slightly on the couch. “It just crossed my mind, okay?”
He chuckled. “Are you actually being shy right now?”
“No, I’m not!” You widened your eyes in horror when he got up from his seat, seemingly moving to sit next to you.
“It’s fine, I get that you don’t actually wanna admit that I’m hot.” He smirked.
“Aren’t you the same person who literally seconds ago said that he isn’t good looking enough???” You rolled your eyes.
He took a slice and munched a big bite. He shrugged at you with a downturned smirk.
“Forget I ever said that.” You scoffed.
“You too.” He said after swallowing the food. “I think you’re attractive as well.”
You paused. The atmosphere had now suddenly turned thick. Your lips went tiny bit ajar, starring at him with an unbelievable look.
“It hasn’t changed since the first time I met you. I’ve always thought you’re attractive.”
“Do not say stuff like that.” You looked away, feeling your body burning up, stomach roamed with butterflies. “You’re making me feel weird.”
You didn’t know what you did but something changed in his eyes after you said that. His face was now only inches away from you. You didn’t think you had seen him looking this serious before ever in the whole time knowing him.
It felt too weird, so weird that the back of your mind was quietly suggesting to claim his lips. The idea sounded odd but somehow not unheard at the same time. Should you be weirded out that you were thinking of kissing your friend or should you be weirded out by the fact that the thought of kissing him didn’t sound that preposterous to you? Your silly little brain could only handle so much.
The sound of door knob turning saved you, or maybe not. Both of you instantly jolted and faced the direction of the entrance.
“Am I interrupting?” Namjoon peeked.
“N-No.” You awkwardly scooted away from Hoseok. “I thought you won’t be coming?”
“I left my hard drive.” The tall guy said as he moved towards his desk and grabbing the said item.
“I see… Uh, do you want pizza? We still have some.”
“Nah, just had dinner at home. You guys have fun though!” He gave a thumb up before exiting through the door.
“Yeah, that’s weird.” Hoseok said, putting down his unfinished slice of pizza that he still had in his hand the whole time. “I’m sorry.” He giggled awkwardly.
“I know right?” You laughed as well, but it sounded so fake that you internally gagged.
That night the thought of his eyes looking at yours sent electricity down your spine. The butterflies in your belly kept you awake.
**
After that, the mystery kiss never really crossed your mind again. At the end of the day, you were just glad it was not he who shall not be named.
Just when your mental state was heading towards a better direction, your luck decided that you had to bump into the said guy, Voldemort himself, Jaehyun. God forbid a woman just wanted to grab herself some snack at a nearby convince store. Of course his new job was near your home, because why wouldn’t it be. The universe just loved to toy with you like that.
“Y/N? Here let me get that for you…”
“No, thank you.” You forced a smile and shook your head at the cashier, signaling the lady to take your card.
“It’s fine, they’re just biscuits anyway.”
“And I can pay them myself.” You said and quickly stormed away, hoping you would be left alone.
“Wait!” He called, but you continued to walk out the store, unbothered.
You squirmed in disgust when you felt his hand stopping you by your wrist. You stopped but shook his hand off immediately. “What?”
“Can we talk? I’ll be quick I promise.” He said, sounding almost begging.
“No, there’s literally nothing in this world that can excuse what you did to me so I don’t want any further explanation.”
“I… I feel so guilty. The past few months I’ve been so grossed out about myself…” He spoke out anyway. He looked at you with a pathetic expression.
“You did something bad so of course you were supposed to feel awful about it. What part of this is my problem?”
“I think you deserve a proper apology. So… I’m sorry.”
“Are you still dating that girl?” You asked sternly.
“No, we broke up due to distance.”
“Good. That innocent woman doesn’t deserve a lying and cheating fucker like you.” You folded your arms. “Is that it?! I would like to leave now.”
“Are you with Hoseok now?”
“What do you mean??? Are you out of your mind?! What made you thi—”
“I saw both of you kissing at Taehyung’s party.”
A few circuits in your brain just snapped because what in the fresh hell was that. All this time, the mystery man was Hoseok all along??? But he never once told you anything about it, even after you mentioned it. Is it embarrassing for him? Did he regret it? And worse, did you force yourself on him??? There were so many questions pilling up in your head.
Seeing your zero response, he spoke again. “So, you’re not dating him then?”
“It’s literally none of your business.” You simply said before moving your feet to leave him in a flash.
You were walking, running maybe? You couldn’t even think straight. You had not even reached your apartment complex yet, but you already took your phone out, calling Hoseok without giving it a second thought.
“What’s up?” You heard the man picking up the call. “You don’t usually call…”
“I kissed you.”
The line went silent for some good second, before you heard him clearing his throat. “You finally remember?”
“Why didn’t you tell me???” You raised your voice. “I even asked you before!”
“It’s a lot more complicated than what you think.” He sighed. “And correction, we kissed. I kissed you back so you weren’t the only one doing the kissing here.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.
“Are you home? Can I come over?” You heard him sighing again.
“Uh, yeah I am.” You bit your lips, feeling extremely nervous all of the sudden. “Sure, I guess…”
“Okay.” Was all he said before hanging up the call.
You were now pacing back and forth at your apartment lobby. The security was already giving you funny looks and so did some of the passerby. You couldn’t care less though, because truthfully, your mind was filled with endless possibilities of what happened and how it happened. Deep down you were glad it was him, but the real question was did he feel the same?
By the time Hoseok arrived you were already sitting on the lobby sofa, clasping your hands together out of cold. The aircon and night air were not such a big help with your nervous sweaty palms. Not to mentioned Hobi in his casual clothes… you might be biased but still!
The walk to the lift and to your room was silent. You wanted so badly to make a small talk, but you couldn’t make yourself to open your lips. And the man who you knew as one of the most cheerful person out there, was dead silent as well, which was killing you.
“Do you want to drink something?” You finally said after a few minutes of unwieldy silence between the two of you.
“N-No need!” He shook his head. Did he just stutter?
“Okay.” You took a seat on your couch, in which he followed shortly.
He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “At first I saw you crying silently near the toilet. You just left after the whole drink-spill accident and clearly were not walking straight. I was worried so I followed you there. By the time I reached you, you had already puked…”
“I’m sorry.” You cringed at the thought of him seeing you puke.
“It’s alright. Fortunately, you didn’t dirty your clothes from it.” He smiled. “I helped you walk out from the club, and that was when you started telling me everything. I feel so bad that I couldn’t do anything about it other than listening to your cries. But a few minutes later, Jaehyun showed up.”
Your eyes widened. “What did he do?”
“Apparently he was looking to talk with you privately but never got the chance.”
“And what happened?”
“I told him to scram.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not punching him in the face that day. How dare he appear right in front of me just minutes after I found out how much of an ass he is?!!” He said in disbelief. “But he refused to leave.”
“Oh…” You began to see where this was going.
“He was saying a bunch of nonsense I couldn’t even recall, and just out of the blue, you grabbed me by the collar and just… kissed me.”
You blushed upon hearing the words coming out from Hoseok’s mouth.
There seemed to be a light shade of pink on his cheeks. “I was so taken aback I didn’t know what to do. I mean… I couldn’t believe the girl I’ve been secretly crushing on just kissed me!”
Wait, what?
**FLASHBACK**
“I just want to talk to her!!!” Jaehyun insists.
“She’s too drunk right now, so fuck off.” Hoseok spat out.
“Then I’ll take her home.”
“Over my dead body.”
And that was when you suddenly pulled him for a kiss. It all happened so quick, that even Jaehyun was also at loss for words, but Hoseok kissed you back, eagerly. That of course made Jaehyun even more uncomfortable, enough to make him finally leave the scene.
The two of you didn’t stop kissing though. Not for a while. Despite being the sober one, Hoseok lost track of time by the touch of your lips. For a moment it was just you, and your friend, making out in front of a club entrance. The club was at the fifth floor of a building, so you were just kissing each other intensely, next to the elevator, against the glass window, like a couple of hormonal teenagers hungry for each other.
Anyone could see you, in fact, one of your friends might caught you on the act, but that did not stop Hoseok. What stopped him was the thought of you being heavily intoxicated. He did not want to take advantage of you, and clearly did not want you to think about him that way in any shape or form. And so he pulled away.
“I’m sorry… that shouldn’t have happened.”
Your eyes looked glistening, cheeks red, and your lips were swollen. It took Hoseok almost everything in him to not just grab you and go back to kissing you like crazy.
You looked up, staring at him with droppy eyes and started tearing up again. You just looked so helpless in his eyes. He was so desperate to ease your pain, but he had no idea how, or even if he were allowed to in the first place.
“Hey, it’s not your fault… you know.” He sighed and took your right hand, intertwining it with his. “He’s a horrible person and that has nothing to do with you. You’re wonderful. You’re one of the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
You only continued to sob, so he pulled you in and hugged you softly. He let you cry for a while before Namjoon and Jimin found both of you outside. They decided it was best if he took her home so Namjoon told him your address and followed Hoseok to his car.
It was quite the struggle, supporting you and helping you walk to your apartment unit. By this time you were passed out already, so Namjoon offered to carry you, in which Hoseok volunteered in instant.
Thankfully, your keys were attached to your belt, dangling by a hook carabiner you always liked to use, so it wasn’t hard opening the door. Namjoon opened the door and Hoseok laid you down on the sofa. He took off your shoes carefully before setting them aside. It didn’t seem right to just leave you like that so both of them thought it would be best if someone stayed.
Long story short, Hoseok carried you to your bedroom. Saw your hoodie laying around and decided to put it on you and leave you in your room. The tiredness then caught up to him, so he crashed out on your couch.
**
“And that’s all!” The man smiled at you.
“Hobi, I…” You were speechless. “Thank you… first of all.”
“Don’t mention it. I was happy to help.”
“I didn’t know you have a crush on me…” You said while awkwardly avoiding eye contact.
“At this point I don’t think it’s still a crush anymore…” He breathed out. “I like you, like a lot now.” He grinned happily.
You were once again too stunned to speak.
“Well, now that it’s out of the bag, I hope it won’t make things weird between us…” He scratched the back of his head.
“Jung Hoseok, I literally like you too.” You finally said, making you flushed so red that it reached your ears.
“You do??? Forreal???” He grabbed both of your hands.
“Yes, for real.” You giggled, still blushing. “Should we kiss again to seal the deal?”
“Say no more!”
He stood up, which made you raised your eyebrow at him. But a yelp soon escaped your mouth when he suddenly lift you up, twirling you around before kissing you on your lips passionately. You smiled through it, kissing him back with equal devotion. His lips felt so familiar, but not because you had kissed him before. In fact, you barely remembered how it happened. It was because his touch made you felt secured, so safe, like you were finally at home.
Thank you for reading! 🪩
#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts scenarios#hoseok imagine#hoseok fanfic#hoseok scenarios#hoseok x reader#jung hoseok#jhope imagine#jhope fanfic#jhope scenarios#jhope x reader
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thanks for saying what you have about covert incest. I have this memory of my dad that I won't even type out cuz it's just horrible and I haven't been able to determine if it actually happened or if it's a memory of a dream I had but part of me thinks the former cuz I don't think I could've imagined something so horrible. and he died recently and I was determined to find some kind of physical evidence that it really happened but when my mom was moving she got rid of most of his stuff before I got there and I've been so pissed about it but not able to tell her or anyone why and it just reinforces my upset toward her cuz if it really happened then she didn't protect me and goes out of her way to protect him instead but in reading your posts I'm starting to think that whether it actually happened or not doesn't matter, the feelings are there and they're real and I ought to just treat it as though it really happened. anyway sorry to be vague, this has just been a huge weight on me and I feel like finding your blog on here has been such a blessing, especially cuz this has been weighing on me even more lately cuz I've been identifying as a butch lesbian for awhile but have been wondering if I'm actually a bi trans man and have been wanting to explore sexual experiences with queer men to find out if I'd enjoy it but have been really cautious about it and haven't really tried anything yet cuz I'm scared of what it might bring up in me and I'm autistic too so the whole dating and hookup thing is scary to me even without this memory shit and idk if queer men would be interested in me anyway. but yeah I'm gonna explore those resources you shared when I'm ready and I just wanted you to know you're making a difference even through sharing your experiences on your tumblr blog. and also just wanted to confess all this to somebody so thank you for that too
<3 thanks Anon.
Your feelings and traumatized reactions are real, and your vague sense of a memory almost certainly signals that Something was not Right in the dynamic with your father, and you can stand by that and care for yourself as someone whose boundaries have been trammeled upon even if you never get to know the exact facts of what happened. So much of childhood disappears down the memory hole, and there is no easy accounting for it, but as a therapist once wisely said to me, if a person has a fracture that's consistent with a violent attack, you can often see the effects and care for them even if you can't know exactly what happened there.
I'm glad you're feeling open to the idea of exploring your own sexuality and gender identity, too. There are absolutely queer men, both trans and cis, who will be interested in you, and you can move at the pace that works for you. Remember there are no rules to queer sexuality, that's the whole point -- so you never have to try anything you don't want to do. You can have a rich, fulfilling sex life with men that never involves PIV, if you aren't interested in that, or that is completely dependent upon a kink dynamic that isn't directly sexual. or you can just put yourself on the grindr grid and find some guy who wants to give you a massage or eat you out all day. There's so many kinds of very eager people out there, and so you can be as selective and as firm in your boundaries and vetting as you need to be! There's every kind of person out there. I have some guy in my Fetlife DMs right now who only wants to shave my body; another who only wants to jerk off while watching me smell leather. The world is abundant with funny little opportunities.
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still thinking about the trump voter I talked to the other day who was like "well the democrats have had four years to fix things," as proof that clearly they weren't doing that so they weren't worth voting for. and I just. do you think the democrats are our friends? do you think they're a bunch of saints? they're politicians! where did your cynicism go, man, the whole system is corrupt and dishonest and we've always known this. the difference is in degree. the difference is in what they do BESIDES and DESPITE the corruption.
god I just. idk I think this next complaint is old as dirt but people have GOT to stop thinking about politicians as friendly folks who are on your side. miss me with that. you can get that on a local level sometimes, but on a state or federal level, you will have a few radical outliers if you're lucky. a politician is not a buddy. a politician is a person who has power over your life, and a politician is a person doing a job, and it does not and has never fucking mattered if they're someone you could hang out and shoot the shit with! that is not part of their job! that is not the part of your life they have power over! they are not your friends!
the democrats have not fixed the country bc a) there are too many forces working against that, b) fixing a country is a convoluted goddamn problem and it'd take decades, not years, and c) they don't necessarily care all that much! they're just people doing a job! they care mostly about keeping their jobs!
look, there are probably a lot of politicians who do care deeply about helping people. there are also lots of politicians who don't give a fuck, but do a great job pretending they care deeply about helping people because they know that's how they'll get votes. I fundamentally do not care which one of these two people is in power so long as they pass and enforce laws that help people. yeah it'd be nice to have the first person, but so long as shit gets done we'll call it a win.
because there's a third, way more common type of politician, who not only doesn't give a fuck, but knows how to get ahead without actually following through on a single campaign promise. that politician is saying all the right things, just like the other two, but they don't pass a single helpful law and instead will pass a bunch of, like, food safety deregulations in exchange for cash from large companies that don't want to worry about health inspectors.
you know what keeps us safe from that? it's when 'doing some useful things for society sometimes' is a good way for a politician to keep their job. otherwise we will end up with no politicians who do useful things for society, out of sheer natural selection.
I'm just venting at this point but god. since when do we believe politicians are good people. obama was a godsend for this country and this world, he achieved so much good, and also he never so much as shut down guantanamo bay. the bar is in hell. the bar is in hell, and every single politician running for office will tell you otherwise, and we have got to stop listening to that and look at what they do. and keep demanding they do better, instead of replacing them with people who will do worse just because at least it's a brand new grifter.
#finx rambles#I am so sick of this#this man is older than my father and grew up in a military dictatorship#how his he falling for friggin ~anti-woke~ rhetoric like the greatest threat to society is political correctness#who fucking cares what we're calling each other. I want civil rights
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i can't believe the "sometimes i think you're a little too good at being fine" "isn't that what everyone wants me to be?" scene exists and people STILL think conrad is the neglected one in that family.
#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty#jeremiah fisher#tsitp jeremiah#belly conklin#tsitp belly#conrad fisher#tsitp conrad#i'm team jeremiah#team jelly#team jeremiah#jellyfisher#bellyjere#i'm not claiming that that family treated either of them well#putting someone on a pedestal their whole life and forcing them to be constantly trying to be better#that's fucked up#but so is telling someone their whole life that not only do people not care abt them as much as their sibling#but that they can only ever be happy and fun and light or nobody wants to be around them#and if they're trying to be happy and fun and light but not successful#and someone can tell and asks them#they need to be honest about it#but not too honest
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Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I mind being useless
#I'd rather contribute nothing than contribute to something known for harm#like im not suddenly evil by doing nothing all day because of executive dysfunction#there are people who are literally banning the existence of others because they chose to do something instead of nothing#and while the example is extreme#it still proves my point#also why do we as humans have 'uses' anyway?#who decides if anyone is useless#the fact that someone can ASSIGN someone useless baffles me#you take a look at a full fledged human being with feelings thoughts and a whole life story#and decide they're good for one thing and one thing ONLY!?#years of life and stories to tell just thrown away!?#all because you think a person should be defined by how well they work!?#instead of who they are!!#IF they even want your definition at ALL!?#no#i refuse to give in to the idea that humans have 'uses'#humans are humans and that's all there is too it (unless they themselves choose to elaborate)#so go ahead and do it#proclaim me useless#i won't care anymore#and I'm no longer doing it to myself
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sighs. yk i dont think it was anything they were ever planning on but i do think they would at least have had a conversation like "do you ever think about getting married" and i wonder how that would go for them
#in my mind hed bring it up and word it in a vague sort of way and theyd be like. what like to you? and hed go no... just like... in general#<- big fat liar#because i dont think it was ever something he really thought he wanted from his life like at all for a lot of reasons#but mainly i just dont think he ever saw it happening because he doesnt really. care about people like that.#like i think by the time they met hes been alone for so long and he more or less likes it that way so he just kind of figured this was it#and while i think they wouldnt have been against the idea entirely its not smth they were thinking about until he brought it up#mostly because theyre just here to have a good time and piss off their parents. but once he brings it up theyre just like oh. yeah.#i do really like him and ive put so many things in my life on hold to be with him. why shouldnt i want to marry him#and clearly he wants to marry me or he wouldnt have brought it up so we're basically going to get married and its going to happen#and this is my forever guy YAAYYY. and well we saw how that went for them right#i do think they build it up in their head way more as an inevitability that theyre gonna be with him forever right. theyre young and stupid#and they like him so much its not even funny and they really do just. abandon the rest of their life. they have no plans#with hog its like. he loves them probably more than hes ever really loved anybody but in his mind this is a thing that can only ever end bad#theyre young and stupid and will get over him or worse hes gonna be the kind of man he is and fuck it up in some way. he sees hurting them#as inevitable because he just sees himself as someone who can only ever hurt people#so when he leaves it feels like the best choice. it was only a matter of time anyways right might as well rip the bandaid off and let them#go home and move on. but for them its like. the world is ending and *their* whole world just walked out on them. after years of everyone#in their life telling them they couldnt and shouldnt do this. and theyre mad as fuck about it and what are they gonna do?#go home and admit they fucked up? that they screwed over their whole future for a boy that didnt even like them?#after everything theyve done for this place? no absolutely not theyre gonna go get him and drag his ass to the altar wthr he likes it or not#🐟
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why do ppl you barely know or interact with at all think you give a huge fuck about interacting with them?
#yeah bitch i saw you. no i didnt give a fuck. who even are you sdhjfhvgsdvghfsd#we have no interacted enough for me to like. care? about talking to you or noticing you any further than 'ive interacted w that person#before'. but the way you rushed out was funny. nice to know i have that much power 😌#kind of tells me everything i need to know and all that shit about totally not interacting w that one friend group is probably bs#you probably rushed out of there to go talk to them about how you saw me#and yall like to believe lies bc you need to shit on me bc its the only way you can feel an ounce bit better about living a shitty life#and being oppressed. crabs in a bucket type behavior over here.#the only difference is yall somehow for some goddamn unknown reason to me think you're superior to me meanwhile conservatives#throw us all in the same bucket of 'weird' so i really dont think it matters. like i really dont think your attempt to shit on me is going#to change very much of anyones opinion on you...? like ppl are gonna call you weird queer ppl anyways? welcome to the club losers?#anyways keep coping by trying to shit on me but its not gonna make your life better babe. go smoke somethin.#really wild you'd treat another trans person- someone you know irl no less- like a lolcow when yall have 0 legs to stand on like#who do yall think you are that you get to feel this superiority complex? im begging to know.#like idk if yall know this but while you're desperately clawing to feel better than me my conservative brother is lumping us all together#as crazy dumb easily manipulated trans people like i promise no amount of trying to appease cis people by trying to come off as one of#the Good and Normal trans people is going to work for you and also you'll be dumped in the trash as soon as that totally weirder#person is out of the picture. like when im gone you're gonna be the weird ones babe so.#maybe find a more productive use of your time. perhaps a hobby.#and then maybe some day yall can have made as much art as i have and have as big of a following as me too. k? 💖#which isnt like a whole lot but im sure as fuck more known than any of you....................................... . . . .
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
#ftm#ftx#genderqueer#transgender#lgbtqiaplus#lgbtqia#queer#trans#trans man#transmasc#trans masculinity#transmasculine#queer masculinty#trans men#trans writing#trans writers#trans pride#transblr#queer writers#queer artist#queer community#queer pride#lgbtq#non binary#genderfluid#lgbtq community#enby#enby pride#trans nonbinary#gor3sigil.txt
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Just. Venting cause idk where else to do that.
#this has genuinely been the hardest 24 hours of my whole life. im dealing with a massive depressive episode in which i destroyed my skin#broke all my nails off and stopped giving a shit#i slept in makeup and applied more overtop#cant be assed to do anythung for myself but im trying and pushing abd trying to make other people feel loved because there are so many good#things and people in my life. they deserve to feel loved abd appreciated abd im lucky to do so#yesterday i helped someone in my store and gave them love and care and helped them because it makes me happy to do so only to find out#theyre my dads new gf and they came in looking for me to tell them my dad misses me.m#its been five years of no contact with my dad for my own reasons and i feel absolutley fucking gutted and betrayed. i feel shaky and#anxious. my whole body hurts abd feels tight and tense and i feel fucking scared to be in my own store#how could anyone do that? go into my place of safety abd stalk me and hold onto me and gaslight me#oh you’ve been dating since december? my parents were married for 35 years. good for you. my whole fucking life changed because of a#selfish man and i am so fucking happy you’re enjoying my dad#he was my best fucking friend and now he means nothing to me because of his choice to disrespect me#i am nothing but collateral damage#how fucking dare she. i dont know how to cope with this but i am so scared and i just needed to write it out#if you made it this far and actually read all of this i am so sorry#what did the janitor say when he came out of the closet? supplies.
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✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink
warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross
This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)
Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first.
What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.
But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this.
He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.
Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.
Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly.
But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.
And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible.
He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”
You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”
And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.
He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”.
“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.
“And you don’t touch yourself?”
You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.”
Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?”
“I don’t know, a few seconds.”
And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.
“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”
Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM.
“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”.
You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now.
You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.
He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his.
You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches.
He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead.
He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are.
He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length.
He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed.
He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does.
It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you.
-
You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection.
He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside.
It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers.
“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making.
“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips.
“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin.
“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that.
-
It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably.
He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all.
But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out.
You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”
He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.
“I can be anything you like, bub.”
You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.”
He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you.
It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.
Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile.
“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants.
“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.”
You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun.
“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve.
“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?”
“Not at all, don’t worry about me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, bub.”
You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket.
“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.
You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.
“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him.
But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.
“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.
“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.
He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.
“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.
And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.
“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.
He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?”
You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.
Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.
He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.
-
Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day.
Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.
He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.
You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.
“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.
Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.
“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.
“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”
“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”
He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”
And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”
He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.
And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”
“If you’re really sure?”
You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”
And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”.
You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”
“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”
You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”.
Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?”
You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason.
You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.
And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.
“You wanna see?”
You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure.
You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.
“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.
“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.
He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.
“Does it feel good?” you ask him.
“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”
You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.
Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.
“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.
“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.
“Do you feel better?”
Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”
“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.
-
It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.
You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.
“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.
“I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?”
Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it.
He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.
“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.
You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.
“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.
“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”
You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.
“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.
His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.
“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.
He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.
“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.
“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.
Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.
But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.
“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.
He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.
“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.
“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.
“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.
You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.
You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.
“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.
You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.
-
✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#fem!reader#selfcarecap
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Filthy
Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.
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"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.
You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.
That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.
You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.
Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.
The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.
One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.
He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.
You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."
Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"
Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.
You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.
"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.
Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.
Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.
He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.
He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.
You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.
"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.
"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.
His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.
His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.
You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.
He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.
He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.
He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.
His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.
His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.
His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.
He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.
He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.
His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.
You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.
You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.
Tags in the comments! ❤️
#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky marvel#james bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#winter soldier#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes and reader#bucky fanfiction#bucky mcu#bucky fic#bucky oneshot#bucky smut#bucky x yn#bucky x reader smut#filthy#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#the winter soldier#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#marvel smut
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DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister
Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.
Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.
The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:
• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.
• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.
• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.
• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.
• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.
And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.
"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?
"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.
"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:
"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."
What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.
"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"
"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.
"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.
"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."
"No eating people," one kid starts.
"No driving people insane," the other one continues.
"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.
Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."
In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.
"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:
"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."
As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.
"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"
After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.
Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:
"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."
"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."
...This is going to be some very long three hours.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#jason todd#red hood#jazz fenton#dan phantom#dani phantom#de aged danny#de aged dani#de aged dan#triplets au#triplet horror kids are out for your eyeballs#beware#jazz is so done with them
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐬 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞
( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .
- [𝐜𝐡.] TOP6 . rin itoshi . karasu tabito . otoya eita . yukimiya kenyu . nagi seishiro . shidou ryusei - [𝐩:𝐬] subtle jealousy.
#Rin Itoshi
Rin doesn't have a good experience when it comes to telling people how he feels. And it's even more shocking that you managed to wow him enough for him to like you. He, himself, didn't want to admit that he liked you because he didn't want to feel weak. And he believes that if he shows emotion towards you, you'll end up finding him weird. Which is the opposite of what you'd prefer.
He'd try to push himself to talk to you at least once when he realized that he liked you. Whether that'd be a snarky remark of his, or a back-handed compliment. You can imagine his surprise when he finds out that you don't find him weird. Since he's used to everyone in his life hating him in some way.
So when one day, he gets enough courage to talk to you and ask if you want to go on a date, looking to the side as he tries to calm himself down and talk to you. To his surprise, you think he's joking.
He looks at you with semi-shocked eyes. Do you think he's joking? It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He overthinks his actions and looks at you confused.
Joking? He surely definitely isn't joking. He's serious. Why else would he come out of his way to ask you something as important as a date? Rin just doesn't get it.
"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
He said confidently exaggerating 'like' heavily. He views your relationship with him seriously and wouldn't ever dream about being unserious with you.
#Karasu Tabito
It's not that hard for him to like someone. Just as long as you stand out to him. Which is very hard for anyone to do. At first, he didn't know how he felt about you, he liked talking to you but didn't understand why he thought about you 24/7. Until he realized that he liked you.
Suddenly whenever he talked to you he talked to you more and began to become more friendly around you, in a way. Karasu never really wanted to tell you that he liked you, fearing that he would mess up your guys' relationship. So instead he just kept his feelings aside.
But that's not what he wanted. Whenever he talked to you he felt like he had to tell you then and there that he liked you... but he couldn't. He just doesn't leave the thought of you being creeped out alone.
He compares himself to you and feels mediocre. Like he doesn't deserve to look at you. From the outside, he seems so confident.
When Karasu finally had the confidence it was when you and him were walking together. There was a long silence when he said he liked you. A long silence that made him regret his actions.
His eyes opened wide when you asked if he was making fun of you. Just like Rin, he values his relationships seriously, it would be a curse if he didn't. Luckily he quickly shot that thought of yours down.
"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐚'𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰?"
#Otoya Eita
Otoya doesn't have a good history regarding feelings for people. Especially girls. One day he'll say that you guys are friends, the next day he'll act like you don't exist. He's used to brushing people off to the side whenever he feels like it.
He's known not to take relationships seriously. And would only keep talking to you if you're the one going for it. Or he'll recycle you, and move on to the next person. Claiming he only wants exciting people.
Otoya has done this his whole life, and he doesn't even recognize when he likes someone. Which led to him getting hurt, for a reason he doesn't understand. You're supposed to mean nothing to him. Why does he care about you?
He questions himself for a moment, but quickly ignores himself to go up and talk to you.
Otoya wouldn't try as much when it comes to someone he likes. But will sneak glances at you often, claiming that you're distracting him. And would blame you for making him fall for you.
But when he tells you that he likes you, he already knows what is going to happen. You're confused, taken aback, and hesitant. Not like he's not used to it. He finds people being skeptical around him whenever he says he likes them.
But in the back of his head, he knows that you mean something to him. And wants to have you to himself.
Yet, you are hesitant about how he truly feels about it. You don't want to be used, he knows that. And he says to himself that he'll never use you, and will try to make you see that.
"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞? 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬."
#Nagi Seishiro
He doesn't know why he likes you. Nagi just thinks of you as a normal person that he talks to sometimes. He stays the same around you as he does for other people, chill, and easygoing. But for you, he may sometimes look at you when you're talking to him.
Nagi often asks Reo to talk to you for him, for many different reasons why. However, he often claims that he's lazy and doesn't want the hassle to get up. And it's true, but he's just worried about how you'll think of him.
Nagi views you as out of his league and wants Reo to help him get with you. Often when he commands Reo to do stuff, like ask you what your favorite games are. He watches from afar watching you two talk.
He hopes that one day he'll end up talking to you, one-on-one, without feeling that small feeling of nervousness he gets. So why not get Reo to do all the talking?
But one day he was feeling different, and he wanted to talk to you himself. He built up the confidence and heard all of the conversations you and Reo had, which helped him get a feel of how you acted and your vibes.
Though he knew he wasn't as outgoing as him, he believed he could do this. He tucked his arm behind his head and said that he liked you, out loud confidently.
To his surprise, you thought he was joking. Nagi's eyes opened wide and his arm dropped a little. What did Reo say her? He said in his head. Wondering how he should go about this.
He took a deep breath and wondered how he should manage to convey how felt this time.
"𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭."
#Yukimiya Kenyu
Yukimiya understands his feelings very well, and others too. He often takes a calm approach when it comes to discussions about people's feelings. Just as long as they're not related to soccer. Yuki never really had a crush on someone besides when he was little.
But he did often look at people and realized how pretty they were, just like with you.
When Yukimiya first saw you he figured you were also a model just like him. He was so enamored by your appearance that he knew he had to talk to you.
He focused on every single detail about you, but never told you that because he didn't want to be creepy. But instead showed it through his long glances at your face.
Often complemented with a nice smile of his.
Yukimiya knows he likes you, and he accepts it. But it would be a long while till he gets the courage to say it, in fear of rejection. So he plans out a list of what to do before he breaks that ice and tells you his true feelings.
He takes a slow breath in and smiles as he tells you about his feelings. And how much he likes you... But it backfired for him. You weren't so used to people being this nice to you, getting you questioning.
Yukimiya realizes this and instead tries to show you through actions. Showing that he is serious and would never dream about faking it.
"𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲."
#Shidou Ryusei
Shidou has zero experience when it comes to having a crush. He's not experienced when it comes to liking someone besides how cool they are. He even surprised himself that he managed to find someone that he genuinely liked.
But he doesn't know what to do. Of course, he can go up to you and be all flirty with you, that's him without self-control, and speaking 'self-control', he has zero.
He "tries" to control himself somewhat, because he doesn't want to scare you too bad. So Shidou decides that he'll just 'try' and get along with you normally. He does have a lot of determination to make this work for you and him.
At first, he'll just come off as really "bold and cool" he says, and then slowly let you see how funny he is. Not only for him to get close to you, but to see if you guys would have chemistry.
And when he's finally fully comfortable with you, and sure that you guys could work together. He'll tell you he likes you.
Of course, it comes as a surprise for you, that he likes you. You can't help but feel it is just one of his jokes again. But little do you know he is serious about liking you.
His expression doesn't change when you question him on his feelings. He knew it was going to happen, Shidou instead just listens to you and hears you out.
But after your done questioning him, a large smirk comes on his face and he puts his face close to yours.
"𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"
#𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐑-𝐋𝐔𝐗𝐔𝐑𝐘#blue lock x reader#blue lock#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fanfic#blue lock scenarios#bllk x reader#bllk headcanons#bllk scenarios#shidou ryusei x reader#rin itoshi x reader#karasu tabito x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#yukimiya kenyu x reader#otoya eita x reader#x reader#bluelock headcanons#bluelock x reader#bluelock reactions
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Why I Love Hanamusa
I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:
First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.
I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!
Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!
It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.
Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.
Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.
All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.
Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.
Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.
There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.
I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.
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