#i don’t think i’ll be able to write this anytime soon so

[skylar-325]

i like to think that yjh is the type to carefully unwrap a gift, careful not to tear the wrapping paper as he peels off the tape. He has no memories of his childhood and likely never got to celebrate an actual christmas or even a birthday. I can’t imagine the mind trip of knowing what those events are and having a strange familiarity from the base level knowledge and yet never having experienced the magical warm feeling that comes from receiving a gift. That would probably make him cherish every gift he ever got, something put together from someone who loves him. Being seen as a monster or weapon by the system, he would consider being given a gift prepared thoughtfully as the most humanising experience ever. He would feel seen and understood in ways he never allowed himself to be.

nsfw warning

Now that that’s out of the way, I was thinking about the fic I wanted to write after seeing all the gift wrapped kdj fan arts. Maybe there was a penalty leading to kdj being wrapped tightly in ribbon, covering all the important parts. Imagine kdj whimpering in pain as yjh takes in the sight before him. Him carefully unravelling the ribbon, leaving the most sensitive parts to be unwrapped towards the end.

Dokja feeling overly sensitised by the ribbon rubbing against his body. Begging yjh to hurry up, so yjh covers his mouth with a ribbon finally being able to shut kdj’s smart mouth. Yjh kissing the ribbon over kdj’s mouth in a ghostly kiss, one that isn’t a real kiss but close enough to satiate the growing hunger in his veins. Imagine kdj egging him on, eyes defiant making yjh’s hands itch to do something with his hands. Punch him? He could but kdj would expect that so he’d rather do something that would catch kdj off guard. Something not even the prophet would see coming. Unravelling the ribbon he could give kdj momentary relief before tightly binding his hands with the same ribbon.

Did I mention kdj is already extremely overstimulated from the ribbon rubbing all over him? His chest is red from the friction of the soft ribbon. He’s losing his mind and at this point he needs to to do something, anything. He likes the feeling of yjh’s hands moving across his body sliding the ribbon off. Yjh’s hands brush across the ribbon between his legs, making him gasp and pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

And well…once the ribbons are all off I’ll leave the rest to everyone’s imagination XD

[foreingersgod]

Pls do Caroline Harvey HCs

with just an eeny weeny teensy tiny bit of smut plss 🙏🏾

Headcannons . CH

pairing: caroline harvey (kk harvey) x reader

warnings: a mix of fluffy content and smut, so read at your own discretion and minors and men please do NOT interact!

this is my peace offering for being so busy and slacking on writing, full length fic coming soon!!

also not spell checked, sorry!!

SFW (barely but no smut)

i feel like she’s a pretty domestic person, i think she’d prefer quiet nights at home with you as opposed to going out and partying. i imagine her being the one to beg you to stay and do date night at home anytime you suggested getting dinner or seeing a movie.

“but babe why can’t we just stay home?! we have food and plenty of movies here!” she’d whine when you asked “i’ll even make you dinner myself! come on, i jus’ want you all to myself”

on a similar note, i also think she’s not huge on PDA and that’s why she loves staying in with you so much. it’s not that she doesn’t feel comfortable being seen with you, it’s just that she’s kind of reserved and prefers to keep her personal life as private as she can. for her sake and for yours.

which has its perks, don’t get me wrong. you almost prefer it that way, subtle little touches when you’re out with friends or something like that, her hand gently resting on your lower back or her head resting on your shoulder when she gets tired. and then you’d get home, and she wouldn’t be able to help herself anymore. she’d be all over you in an instant.

“fuck,” she pants when you finally walk into your shared apartment for the night. you had been out for your mutual friends birthday, and you unintentionally intentionally decided to wear something fairly revealing “y’know what you do to me? wearing something like that?”

and believe me…she’d make up for the lack of public affection in other ways.

i’d like to think that her love language is acts of service. like she still loves to touch you and validate you and all that lovely girlfriend stuff, but she shows her love in more ways than just words.

she’d often leave you sticky notes on the fridge when you got home later than she did, maybe leave some on your nightstand when she had to leave early in the mornings when you’re still asleep. always leaving an “xoxo C” at the bottom to tell you she’s thinking of you.

not only that, but she’d do a lot of household chores for you when you were busy with school and work, run you relaxing baths when you were sick, or even something so little as running to the supermarket to grab your favorite ice cream when you started your period.

she’d be one of those stereotypical lesbians that just absolutely worships the ground their girlfriend walks on. she never fails to bring you up in conversations and is quite willing to do anything you ask.

one night you’re winding down after a long day, watching tv and painting your nails whilst caroline sits beside you to keep you company. she’s quite honestly not paying attention to what’s playing on the screen at least, rather her eyes are glued to you. she watches the way the lavender lacquer glides across your nail, how your tongue sticks out in conversation and she’s in complete awe of how beautiful you look doing the most mundane things.

“hey caroline?” you asked with a pout.

“yeah baby?” she hums in response, pretending like she wasn’t just watching you like a hawke.

“d’you think you could help me with this hand? i keep messing up”

and she’s already perching herself on the floor in front of you, pulling you into her lap as she grabs the bottle of nail polish to finish painting them.

she’s a snorer. i’m so sure of it. although i don’t think she snores like in a heavy type of way, but instead she lets out light little grumbles here and there.

i can just picture her, face pressed into the pillow, her cheek smushed against the fabric as she sleeps peacefully. her hair is all over the place and her lips are slightly parted. and then to top it all off, as if she couldn’t be any cuter, she lets out the softest snuffs.

definitely has a scrapbook, shoved somewhere deep into her closet, that her mother gifted her. it’d be filled with several baby pictures and photos/drawings from when she was in grade school, hiding it away because she was unbelievably embarrassed for you to see them.

you remembered when her family visited you both when you had finally settled into your place together, her mom bringing the scrapbook as a housing warming gift of some sorts. caroline immediately tried to tuck it away, but you were more than stubborn and demanded that you sit down and look through it.

it’s still one of your favorite memories. laughing with her parents at all the goofy pictures from when she lost her first teeth, when she won her first hockey trophy, and when she graduated high school. you even loved reading all the poems she wrote in middle school english, loved seeing all the ‘1st place” ribbons that her mom neatly taped to the card-stock pages.

you only got to look at it twice since then, kk utterly miserable whenever it was pulled out, but you cherished those pictures more than anything.

she’s probably such a dad in the sense that she pretends to not care about the cheesy reality tv shows you’re into, but then secretly starts getting hooked on it and makes you record each episode so you can watch it together.

“what do you mean lisa called meredith a ‘garbage whore’?” she gasped, running into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands “wait, wait i told you to pause it! i don’t want to miss it!!”

her favorite place to kiss you is definitely your forehead. sure, she loves kissing you everywhere, but there’s something so intimate to her about small forehead kisses.

she never fails to give you one before you both fall asleep, before you leave for work, when you’re sad and need comforting or when you’re so excited and it’s her way of expressing her support. you’d probably get her kiss mark tattooed there if you could.

she often gets overwhelmed with sports and school and family and all sorts of things. she tends to be reserved with her feelings, but you’re the only person she can genuinely open up to. sometimes she comes home from practice with this look on her face, and you can immediately tell that she’s struggling.

most times she doesn’t even want to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her, run your fingers through her hair and tell her it’s all going to be okay.

and she loves to teach you new things. wether that’s teaching you how to skate, how to cook a family dish she always ate as a kid, or how play the games she learned in elementary school, she just wants you to be involved in everything she loves.

you think you love it more than she does. you’d never get over how excited she gets when you ask if you can help her make that ‘dinner she made one time’ or if she’d tell you a funny story from when she was a rebellious teen.

like that one time you were having lunch in the park one summer, sprawled out on a handmade quit atop the freshly cut grass as you laid side by side. you picked mindlessly at the dandelions beside you as you both chatted about each others day.

“you know i used to make those when i was younger?” she spoke, motioning to the flowering weeds “flower crowns, i mean”

“really?” you smiled “no one ever taught me how, i always wished i could though”

i didn’t take long before she was picking some herself and instructing you on how to tangle them together so easily. she took it as serious as she took hockey, determined to make sure you knew how to make a perfect flower crown. it wasn’t really a big deal to you in the long run, but something so important to her was just as important to you.

NSFW (for realsies this time)

getting straight to the point, i don’t think she’s huge on the strap. don’t get me wrong, you both still use it often, but i think she much prefers eating you out or scissoring.

there’s something about the appeal of physically feeling you on her that makes her crazy, a sensation that beats using the strap any day.

she loves it when you bite her or scratch her. it’s a pleasant mix between pleasure and pain and it’s probably her favorite part of intimacy.

she likes to look in the mirror the next day, just before she gets in the shower, to admire the long red marks that stretch along her back. she often teases you about too, but if you ever stop, she’s guiding your hands to her back again.

she’s not as drawn to the marks that your bites leave as much, instead she loves the feelings. when she’s making you feel so so good, so much that you can barely hold it in anymore, that you have to bite down on her shoulder or her bicep to keep yourself grounded. it’s like an ego boost to her, a sign that she fucks you so good that you can’t even function properly.

she’s cocky in bed, i feel like she’s the type to say:

“yeah baby? feels good huh?”

“come on, speak up, i can’t hear you”

or if you’re on top…

“fuck yeah, just like that, making me feel so good baby. keep going…gonna make me come”

a sucker for praise

she loves when you tell her that she’s going a good job, that’s she’s exceeding your expectations each time. she’s a bit of a perfectionist and an over achiever that way, but hey, you’re not one to complain.

whilst she loves fancy lingerie and nice dresses, she folds for you even when you’re in sweats and one of her t shirts.

“really? right now?” you huff as her hands dance up your shirt, massaging your tits roughly. she’s kissing up your neck painfully slow and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten her so worked up “i look like shit”

“are you kidding?” she scoffs “i’d fuck the shit out of you no matter what you’re wearing, you look so sexy even in this”

i’m a firm believer (maybe this is a self insert but idc!!) that she appreciates all body types, especially a chubbier figure. like she’s absolutely obsessed with your pudgy tummy and your thick thighs, a sucker for how plush and soft your body is. don’t even get her started on those stretch marks of yours…

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle with your body image often, but you never had to be insecure for long when caroline walked into your life. she seized every opportunity to make you see what she saw in you, willing to do whatever it took to prove to you that she loved your body.

“shit, look at you” she moaned, smirking as she watched you on top of her, grinding your wet pussies together. her hands gripped feverishly at your hips, often wandering down to squeeze your thighs. her hands were all over you the entire time, letting you know that she loves every inch of you “so pretty on top of me, i’ll never get sick of lookin’ at you, got it?”

[joocomics]

ಬ different kind of normal

pairing: idol!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut — 18+ wc: 1.7k

contains: situationship, reunion sex, sub!reader, slight hint of dumbification, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, reader is emotional and cries during sex, not a happy ending (?)

a/n: this has been sitting in the drafts since august and it’s finally seeing the light of day. cannot believe such angsty smut is happening on joocomics, tbh i don’t think i’ll be writing anything similar anytime soon phew it was tricky and i realised that i need my happy endings. but i wanted to try smth new, i really hope you enjoy it </3 sometimes you just need a kim taehyun to numb your emotions

[ txt masterlist | general masterlist ]

You go down the familiar stairs and walk into the bar. It’s loud, lit by the usual dim yellow-ish lights, the scent of alcohol and skin is covering every corner, wrapping around your silhouette.

Your eyes observe the place to search for him and it doesn’t take long to find him - he’s sitting on your usual spot which is distanced from every other table; it feels intimate and secluded.

None of the people who visit this bar know who he is, nor do they know you, and sitting on this specific table every time you see each other only enhances the feeling you get in these moments - like you and him are the only people existing in this place and time.

“Taehyun,” you greet him at once.

You haven’t said his name out loud in so long. You’re not allowed to talk about him to anyone; not that you want to anyway, you want to keep him to yourself though it feels nice to be able to roll it off your tongue again. It feels freeing, especially in his presence.

Maybe he missed hearing his name in your voice, because his eyes smile at the sound before he even turns to face you. The letters ring nicely, like his name is something he can feel caressing his skin when you’re the one saying it.

“You’re here.” He automatically leans forward after you sit down next to him; the usual gravitational force that always pulls you together is another thing he was anticipating to experience again.

His one arm goes over your shoulders and the sudden warmth enveloping you makes your knees weak. The truth is, they were already weak from the steps you had to take to reach your table, but now they feel like they’re about to melt.

Being so close to him months later feels like it’s your first date all over again. You hate it and love it all at the same time.

“I just ordered your favorite,” he says and you can hear the slight note of pride in his smooth voice.

His hair is covered from a black cap which he eventually takes off before running a hand through his hair; it grabs your attention with a new color that you haven’t seen him with in person before.

You point out the obvious fact about how he still remembers your order as you take a minute to observe the attractive features that make up the face you learned to love.

“Of course I do,” he simply replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The first kiss after three and a half months.

It feels so exciting and electrifying, just like the very first one you had a year ago, but at the same time it feels familiar too - like you’re reminiscing on a comforting memory you haven’t looked back on for a while.

His hand slides up your thigh, then travels up your hip only to sneak in discreetly beneath your shirt, sending you pleasant shockwaves. Soon enough he breaks the kiss though, careful not to bring any unnecessary attention on you.

“Next month I’m gonna have a week off.” Taehyun speaks up after a moment of silence between the two of you. After a sip of his beer, he continues: “I was thinking that you can come visit me if you want.”

Yes… Yes. You do. You want to scream it out loud. But the only thing you do is breathe in, staring inside the cup of your cocktail; trying to force yourself to speak before your mind turns blank.

“You don’t need to worry about money,” he adds as he shifts his gaze to you, hopeful and anticipating of your response. “It’s all on me, baby.”

There it is - the reminder you needed before giving any answers. His money, his fame. His life that’s so unfitting to yours. The pink balloon you found yourself in for a moment as he shared about his plan, tempting you to naively build dreams about your one week together, it pops, and brings you back to the harsh reality.

“Tae…” You shake head, “no matter what we do or tell each other we can’t be normal.”

Taehyun’s brows furrow at your choice of word.

Normal.

“This has to end at some point, I don’t think we should complicate things any further… as we’ve already discussed before.” You exhale deeply after blurting out the things you’ve been practicing on your way here. He didn’t hear the sound that escaped your lips because of the music mixed with the chatter, but if he did, he’d have known that saying all of this cost you an immense amount of energy.

You don’t glance at him even once, but Taehyun on the other hand, can’t stop staring at you like he’s in some sort of a bad dream that’ll end soon if he’s patient enough.

“Right, right…” He nods, finally able to force his eyes somewhere else. He peers down at his hands on the table that begin to tap nervously at the wooden surface, sharing almost the same rhythm as his heartbeat. “You’re right, that’s the wisest thing to do.”

You know it is, but hearing him agree turns out to be more painful than you expect.

For the best, this has to end soon, you remind yourself. Maybe not tonight, but tomorrow.

“I missed you,” Taehyun rises your body temperature through raspy whispers and open mouthed kisses which he scatters onto your skin almost in a rush; as if you’re going to disappear from his hands if he dares to slow down. “Missed you so fuckin’ much...”

His soft lips trace a path from your neck down to your cleavage and soon enough he’s even lower, running his tongue against your stomach before kissing that area sensually too. The slight moisture slipping from the corners of his mouth in addition to the delicate sucks makes you shudder as he simultaneously tugs on your underwear.

“Missed this sweet pussy too,” he invites his fingers into your walls effortlessly. His gaze focuses upon your lips and how they open for a silent gasp as he glides through with ease because of your already collected arousal. “Did she miss me?”

While anticipating an answer, Taehyun swirls his tongue inside his mouth before letting a string of saliva fall right onto your clit; he smears it all over your folds, provoking your thighs to open even wider for him.

“Tae—“ You arch spine, emphasising your need for something more than this lingering rush that’s growing in a pace that’s not quite enough for how much you ache for his touch right now. “Please…”

“I think she did.” A lustful spark shimmers in his eyes as his hand maintains its delicate motions. The movements make you moan every time his fingertips reach your sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping back down again. “Say it.”

At once he meets your eyes as his frame eventually hovers over your naked flushed body.

Your hands relax on his broad shoulders as your focus fixates on his face. Hopefully there’s not as much pain into your eyes as there is in your heart in this moment. You don’t want him to know how much exactly you’re actually hurting.

“I missed you every day,” you whisper softly as your noses touch; your mouths search for each other, thirsty for the other’s taste even more now. When you feel his hand guiding his cock to your entrance your breathing catches, but you still manage to repeat it. “Of course, I missed you.”

The second he hears your words, Taehyun crashes his lips against your mouth. Because he cannot bare hearing this one more time or because he enjoys the sound of it too much - he’s unable to tell.

As he leads the kiss swiftly your legs wrap loosely around his hips and your warm walls immediately squeeze onto him as he quickens the pace, eager to make up for all the time you were away from each other.

“Fuck—“ He grunts at the growing pleasure that he reminisced about night after night before breathing out against your neck, “finally… I swear to god nobody else can make me feel this way.”

His voice, husky and domineering despite his on going confessions, echoes in your fuzzy mind. Although you shouldn’t, you put in all the effort you can into memorising each word he says; you hold onto it tightly as the continuous thrusts gradually turn more rigid and sharp causing your nails to sink into his shoulder blades.

However, as amazing the buzzing sweet wave inside you feels, you cannot suppress the sadness that’s about to overpower you first.

You swallow another failed attempt to fight back the bitter emotion, but you can feel it lingering everywhere - in your heart, inside your stomach, on your tongue once he slows down his hips to grip your face, and inside your throat that feels like it’s closing up.

“Why are you crying?”

Taehyun peers into your eyes that are sparkling at him with a bittersweet emotion which he hasn’t gotten used to seeing inside them. His gaze lowers to your puffy lips, trembling as they separate with hesitation.

“I… I don’t know what’s gotten to me, s-sorry,” your arms wrap tighter to pull him closer. His thumb caressing your wet cheek only makes it worse for you. “Please, k-keep going.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispers under his breath as he fulfills your wish by resuming his thrusts - more forcefully though to distract you from the sorrow, “I’ll make it go away now, okay? Focus on me, baby.”

You grasp his shoulders while the delight starts to numb your mind with each intense push of his cock. The hits against your sweet spot are fast and strong enough to weaken your memory right away.

“There you go,” Taehyun’s pants blend with your whimpers ringing beneath him as the tears on your skin begin to dry. “Such pretty eyes, look at me, love.”

Something about seeing you cry for the first time made his heart clench, and now his mind fogs up, leaving him with only one goal - to make you cum as many times as possible so you can’t think of anything for the rest of the night.

Right now, he’d erase every single thought from your brain if he knows he’s capable of doing so.

The moment he feels you’re tightening up Taehyun’s eyes open so he doesn’t miss out on one flinch of yours.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby,” he murmus, trying to keep moving forward while your peak lasts, causing you to quiver beneath his frame. “Let go, baby, I’m right here.”

Yes, he’s here, and tomorrow morning he’s still going to be here, but you’ll be gone, because this time if he tries to stop you like all the previous times, you’re not going to look back.

But for now, you and Taehyun are close as you’ve never been before.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[megumiluvv]

“Choso, do you have other siblings?” You ask one day while doing your laundry. Yuji wanted to stay at your apartment instead of his next door, so Choso stopped by after work.

“Yeah, have I not told you?”

“No, but it’s honestly not that surprising.”

“How?”

“You just have ‘eldest brother’ vibes. Anyways, I was asking because Yuji has an ‘All About Me’ assignment he needs to fill out.”

“Oh. Those have always been complicated for him. I’ll fill it out.” He frowns as he thinks and you just smile at the sight.

“I helped where I could, but you probably know him better than me.”

Choso watches you casually fold laundry as Yuji eats snacks on the table and his assignment sits nearby.

Q.1: “What does your home look like?”

Easy enough, Yuji lives with Choso. You had filled it out.

Q.2: “Who are your parents/guardians?”

Touchy subject, but again, Choso is his guardian.

Q.3: “What is your favorite color?”

“Hey, Yuji, what’s your favorite color today?” Choso asks.

“Ummm, red!”

Alright, another question answered.

Q.4: “Do you have any pets?”

Apartments don’t allow pets without an extra fee, so no.

You watch Choso continue to fill out the assignment and peer over his shoulder.

“You’ve got nice handwriting.”

“Really? I think it’s pretty bad, I was kind of illiterate for a while, but learned more to help my brothers.”

Q.7: “Who else is in your family?”

Choso lists two brothers, as well as their uncle and Uraume. Yuji looks and doesn’t see your name, so he points at you. You don’t get it and just tilt your head, same with Choso.

“Why are you pointing?”

“Add.”

“Add?”

“To the list.” Yuji points at you again.

“Yuji, it’s family-”

“Yeah, I know, I learned how to read last year, add.”

You feel your heart warm at the thought of Yuji wanting you to be a part of his family and you smile.

“Yuji, you know I’m not related to you…”

“Okay, but the teacher said pets count as family, and friends, and people we care about.”

Your heart warms more and Choso watches your expression, his own little smile forming.

“I take it you want Megumi added to the list?” He grins to the child.

“Yeah!”

Choso writes your name onto the paper, carefully placing each letter as if the pencil wouldn’t be able to erase. He then adds Megumi’s name to the paper and answers the last of the questions, meant for guardians.

Afterwards, you cook dinner for the three of you and Yuji plays in the living room.

“So, who are Kechizu and Eso?” You ask, curious about the idea of his siblings.

“They’re my brothers. Yuji’s the youngest, obviously, but they’re both in college right now. They live pretty far, but Eso said he plans to visit soon.”

“So I’ll meet some more family?”

“Maybe.” He grins. “He might be like our uncle and ask if we’re dating. Apparently I don’t have friends.”

You laugh and make Yuji’s plate. “That’s alright. My parents would have a hay day if they heard about you.”

“Good or bad?”

“No clue. I know my mom would instantly assume dating which would send my dad into a lecture.” You roll your eyes and sit Yuji at the table.

“My mom had a few of her own lectures.”

“Oh, your mom was the lecturer? That sounds worse.” You laugh, and Choso does as well.

Dinner goes by as casually as always and you three watch a movie, Yuji already asleep on your lap before reaching halfway through the movie. You also fall asleep near the end, so Choso wraps his arm around your shoulder. You’re starting to love this little family, Choso is too.

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

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[fettuccin-e]

A Little Show

Kinktober Day 10: Stripping

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, lap dance, grinding, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), reader is a former stripper, a little bit of possessiveness from Steven, precious husband Steven is so lovely (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: So I know I'm late with this day, but it took me like forever to come up with something, and then I remembered our collective husband Steven Grant. I adore writing him so much so I had such a grand ol' time writing this. (I am using these prompts for Kinktober from flightlessangelwings!)

When Steven found out about what you used to do for a living, you’d braced for the worst.

Marc already knew, because of course he did. He probably conducted a full background check on you the moment Steven got the idea of asking you on a date. There was no hiding your old life from him, including being a stripper, just as he wasn’t able to hide from you, including Steven and Jake.

You’d known that Steven wouldn’t react badly. You knew he’d never yell at you, call you horrible names, kick you out of the flat. But it didn’t stop the paralyzing fear from kicking in. Of him letting you down easy, telling you that the two of you were just too different, that your morals just aren’t the same. So when you’d told him, you’d braced yourself for the first relationship you’d ever truly loved to go up in flames.

But fuck, you couldn’t have predicted this. For Steven’s eyes to darken as you describe what you used to do for an audience, his gaze dragging down your body in a way that has heat flooding down to your core. He’s silent for a few moments, and it makes you squirm in your seat. He mumbles something under his breath, definitely to himself, but you need to hear it.

“What, Steven?” you ask, steeling yourself against his inevitable rejection.

“Will you show me?” he chokes out, his cheeks flaming red, before he thinks better of himself, his eyes going wide. “Wait, shit, sorry love, no. God, it’s fine, of course it’s fine. I love you, yeah? Nothin’s going to change that anytime soon, I’ll tell you. ‘M just a bit jealous, y’know, in spite of myself, but fuck, shouldn’t have asked that. Just ignore that, yeah? I-”

“Steven,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “You want me to show you?” You can’t help how your voice dips a little deeper, a little raspier, in a way that you know gets Steven all hot and bothered.

“Um,” Steven clears his throat, fiddling with his hands. He won’t meet your eyes. “I mean, who wouldn’t, yeah? Got the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and-”

“You want me to strip for you?” you whisper, nudging his chin up with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and you watch the motion of his tongue as it just barely wets his lips.

“Please, love,” he rasps, and God, when he begs for you like that, who are you to refuse him?

You rise above him, and his eyes follow you, unable to tear away for a moment. As you stand, you take a long look at him, at the way his cock bulges in his slacks, the way his hands flex helplessly at his sides. Steven doesn’t have the control that Marc or Jake have, he’s fucking desperate for it. 

There’s no music, no pumping bass of the club you used to work at, but God, you find that you don’t need it. The heat of Steven’s gaze is more than enough, watching you with bated breath as you undo the buttons of your shirt, one, by one, by one. You let it carelessly drop to the floor behind you, leaving you in just your bra. You don’t own the same frilly bras you used to, from your old life, but Steven looks at you like you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

You toe off your shoes, grateful for the fact that you just wore flats today, and slowly unzip your jeans. There are so many ways that this is so different from how it used to be. You never started your dances in jeans, never danced without music and dark lighting, without the stench of sex and sweat hanging in the air.

You’ve never danced and needed the man in front of you, loved the man in front of you.

The feeling is heady, lust swimming through your veins and pooling in your cunt. You peel your jeans off slowly, letting them pool around your ankles, stepping towards Steven. Steven, whose mouth gapes open just slightly, watching you like he’s starving for it.

You straddle him on the couch, moving your hips over his crotch in a slow grind that has you both gasping. Grinning at the way he watches your body move like water over him, you reach behind you and deftly unclip your bra in a practiced move. You slide it down your arms, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You grip onto Steven’s shoulders to hump into him harder, and Steven’s hands flex at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.

“You know what’s different about this than what I used to do?” you murmur, your lips nearly brushing his.

“Hm?” Steven hums absently, watching your body undulate above him.

You smile down at him. “You actually get to touch.”

Pulling his hands into yours, you mold his hands to your skin, nearly shivering at the feel of them. It’s like Steven snaps out of a trace, groaning softly under his breath as he greedily runs his hands over your naked skin, cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples in a way that makes your head spin. 

“So- so fucking gorgeous for me, love,” he murmurs, tilting his head up for a kiss. You meet him without hesitation, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drinking him in. You hump into him harder, shamelessly grinding your clit into the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pants. "Can I fuck you?” he gasps into your mouth, “Please tell me I can fuck you, darling.”

You’re nodding before your brain can even think of a proper response, and Steven takes his hands off your body to fumble at the zipper of his slacks, tugging himself out without any kind of finesse. It feels like you’re both teenagers, desperately clawing at each other, trying to get closer, as close as you can possibly get.

You haphazardly tug your panties to the side, letting yourself sink down on his cock, slow enough to let you feel the stretch as he breaks you apart. The moans you both let out as you sink to the hilt are borderline animalistic. The both of you are strung too tight, too needy to take this slow.

“God, you’re so-” Stephen punches his hips up into you, making you claw at his shoulders, “so tight for me, my love.” You can only press your forehead to his, meeting his lips in a sticky kiss as you bounce desperately on his cock. He stretches you so perfectly like this, reaching deep inside and the tip of his cock pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. The moans you’re letting out are downright embarrassing, but God, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

“How many of them wanted you like this?” Steven grunts against your mouth, meeting you thrust for thrust. “How many of those men you danced for wanted you just like this, bouncing on their cocks like the needy girl you are?”

“Steven, oh my God,” you whimper, letting him guide you as he fucks up into you, his thick hands braced on your hips, holding you tight enough that your skin pales beneath his fingertips.

“You’re mine, darling, no one else gets to have you,” he snarls, in the way he gets when he’s with you, when he’s lost in the feel of you. “This little cunt is mine, yeah? My perfect girl, can’t believe we found you.”

He thrusts into you once, twice, and you’re curling into him, barely able to hold yourself up, as you gush down his cock. You sob his name as he leans forward to press hot kisses down your neck, and you curl your fingers into his hair as you shake through your orgasm. 

Steven isn’t far behind, plunging deep into your pussy as it contracts around him, filling you up, claiming you in the most primal way he can.

He holds you on his lap as you both try to come down, keeping you afloat. You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as you finally feel your mind come back to you.

“Have you ever actually been to a strip club, Steven?” you ask, smiling.

“Don’t need to,” he sighs. “Don’t want to.”

You hum. “You might change your mind once you see what I can do on a pole.”

[the-laughing-lunatic]

uhhhchhdhfhdhd can you maybe do something with the mercs (all 9 if thats cool, but if not then just sniper and medic!!) with a reader that cant sleep so they just. go to their room and ask if they can cuddle with them

(ofc! This was rlly fun to write, I’ll prolly write for all of them later if yall are interested enough :> thx for requesting!)

Medic and Sniper with a reader asking for cuddles (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Sniper☆

He’s a tad confused when you show up to his camper van

I mean, he’d never turn down cuddling you, that’d be bloody stupid of him

“Why you wanna cuddle with me though, mate? I don’t exactly got the most comfortable sleepin’ conditions.”

“Because it’s you, Mick. If you don’t want to, that's fine.”

“Woah, woah, mate you’re twisting my words. I mean, I’d love that. Uh, come in I guess.”

Bro is so awkward omg- 

Does not know how to initiate physical contact at all so he just kind of stands until you lay down on the bed

The bed in his van is already really small so it forces you two to be even closer

He doesn’t really like being super close, but he likes to have an arm around you to have that connection

Kind of guy that needs noise to sleep, he’d be perfectly content to listen to you ramble about anything as he holds you.

Very light sleeper, def gets up in the middle of the night a few times but he’d be very careful not to disturb your sleep

He really does enjoy holding you and would like to do it more, but will absolutely not unless you ask first

In the morning he’ll fix you coffee and fairy bread to be polite

Really wants to do that again but will absolutely not ask you, way too awkward for that

☆Medic☆

You had gone to Medic’s bedroom to ask him if you two could cuddle…but he wasn’t there

You went to his lab next, where he sat hunched over his desk, frantically scribbling away on some papers. “Ohoho! Hello mein fruend, I didn’t notice you. What do you need?”

“I can’t sleep, can we cuddle?”

“If you wish, you may sit here while I work.”

You’d sit in his lap as he continued to write something or other, with one of his arms wrapped around your waist

It was nice for a bit, he’s big and warm, but it was too uncomfortable to actually try to sleep and you were tired

“Mm, Ludwig, when do you actually go to bed?”

“Ahehe, I think around one or two,” he said sheepishly.

“You think?”

“I normally just pass out at my desk.”

“...okay, we’re going to bed now,” you said, getting off his lap and dragging him to his bed

He’d (begrudgingly) come along after a lot of complaining about how he needed to get the work done

He likes having you lay on top of him, it calms him down to feel the weight of you (he def has a weighted blanket on the rare nights he sleeps in his bed)

Traces your skin and absentmindedly talks about where each of your organs are underneath 

He falls asleep very quickly, you have to take his glasses off and place them on the nightstand (mf wears glasses while he sleeps, they’re crooked as hell)

His grip is so tight even as he sleeps though, you wanna move? Ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.

In the morning bro is always awake before you, no matter how early you get up 

If he’s feeling quirky maybe you’ll get breakfast in bed

(He may put caffeine in your food at dinner so you wont be able to sleep and you’ll cuddle him, until you catch him–)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

*insert Elmo in flames meme*

Ahhhh! I'd be happy to give you some Ominis fic ideas 😁🩷 of course, you could just scrap this altogether but I was thinking 🤔 could we have a 7th year Ominis being able to gain financial freedom from his family because MC gave her Hogsmeade shop to him? I know a lot of people want him to escape to America but Hogsmeade just feels so cozy and perfect for him being a shopkeeper.

And MC realizing her feelings for him during one instance when she had to return to him to replenish her supplies from her travels, and maybe decides it's time to be with him? 😣💕

It's okay if you don't like this plotline but I just finished the Haunted Hogsmeade quest, and I immediately thought of Ominis being its owner!

Thank you so much!!

Threads of Fate | Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Anon, I hope this is everything you hoped for! Thank you for the request and inspiration <3 it was my absolute pleasure writing this.

Words: ~6,700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post Canon, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Fluff, Fluff AGAIN

“You’d think after all these years I’d be better at writing letters, but somehow, I still find myself pausing, trying to decide how to start. Then again, you always make it easier when you write first. Your last letter was… exactly what I needed. You have a knack for saying the right thing, even when you don’t realize it.”

“Anne stopped by the shop recently. She told me to stop ‘hovering like a nervous bird’ over your enchanted scarves and to start charging more for them. Apparently, she’s appointed herself my business manager, whether I wanted one or not. She also asked about you—how you’re doing, where you are, why you haven’t written her back, and, most importantly, when you’re finally coming home. I told her I didn’t know, but she was unimpressed by my answer. Honestly, I’m not impressed either.”

“Sebastian, meanwhile, has decided that I’ve become too boring for his liking. He keeps trying to convince me to pack up and visit you, as though I could just leave the shop to run itself. His words, not mine. It’s ridiculous, of course, but I wonder if there’s something to it. You’ve been gone so long now, it’s hard not to feel like there’s a part of this place missing.”

“Speaking of which—are you planning to come back anytime soon? You told me six months, and that was, what, six months ago? You’re not terrible at keeping promises, but you’re testing the limits here. I’ll forgive you if you write soon with some good news—or better yet, with the promise of coming home.”

“The shop is still standing, though I’ve made a few small changes here and there. I hope you won’t scold me when you see them. It’s funny, even when you’re not here, I find myself thinking, ‘What would she do?’ And sometimes, I swear I can hear your voice, usually chiding me for something I’ve misplaced or forgotten. I wonder—did you know, even then, how much this shop would mean to me? …Did you know how much you mean to me?”

“Take care of yourself, won’t you? Though I doubt I need to remind you. You’ve always been reckless, but you’ve never been careless. But I can’t help worrying about you—it’s impossible not to.”

“Write soon, or better yet, come home. I’d like to see you again. I’d like to… well, there’s plenty I’d like to say in person.”

Yours, always, Ominis

The letter, over a month old now, was worn at the edges, its parchment soft from being folded and unfolded too many times. Your fingers traced the familiar loops of Ominis’ handwriting, lingering over the slight smudge where his quill must have hesitated.

Even as the train carried you closer to Hogsmeade, you felt guilty. You hadn’t written back. But you hadn’t trusted yourself to put quill to parchment, not even to Anne or Sebastian, neither of whom could be trusted to keep your long awaited return a secret.

Six months. You’d promised him six months, and here you were, long past that mark. You’d wanted to return sooner—Merlin knew how much you’d wanted to—but there had always been one more ruin, one more curse to break, one more excuse to stay away.

It wasn’t just the work, though. The truth you hadn’t dared admit to yourself was that the thought of walking into Stitches and Draughts again, of seeing Ominis after all this time, terrified you. What if things had changed? What if the delicate balance of your friendship—of your stupid, traitorous feelings for him—had changed?

Merlin knew you had.

You caught your reflection in the train’s window, and for a moment, it felt like looking at a stranger. The girl you once were, the one with the boundless energy and effortless grace of youth, was nowhere to be found. Gone was the lithe figure and carefree ease that had come with an 18-year-old’s metabolism, replaced by a version of yourself you were still learning to accept. The life of a cursebreaker hadn’t been kind to your body—or your soul. Years of chasing dangerous leads, grueling physical labor, and long nights spent deciphering ancient scripts had taken their toll. Meals were often hurried, whatever you could grab between assignments, and the relentless travel left little room for rest. You were softer now, and your body bore the marks of your journey—an ache in your shoulders from carrying too much weight, faint scars from brushes with danger, and an exhaustion that felt carved into your very bones.

You turned away from the window, forcing your reflection out of sight. The sight of it only dredged up insecurities you had no business indulging—not now, not when you were so close. It was stupid to worry about it, you told yourself. What did it matter whether Ominis found you attractive? Seven years had passed. Seven years of separate lives, separate paths. You couldn’t expect him to still see you as he once might have—or to have waited for you at all.

Back then, you were just kids, after all. Even when your friendship had danced on the edge of something more, neither of you had ever been brave enough to take that final step. You thought of the moments that had felt like more—his hand brushing yours when you walked side by side, the way he’d linger in the shop late into the night, his head tilted toward you as though he could hear the shape of your smile. But those moments were fleeting, always followed by silence or a change of subject. Neither of you had ever said the words.

And now? Seven years was a long time to expect someone to wait for something that was never truly spoken aloud.

Still, the thought haunted you, gnawing at your resolve. Would he notice the changes in you? Would he care about the extra softness to your curves, the faint lines of exhaustion that hadn’t been there before? The idea that he might—that he’d look at you with anything less than the quiet warmth you remembered—made your stomach twist.

The train jolted, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as it slowed to a screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station. The sound of the brakes, sharp and familiar, was like a spell breaking. You rose stiffly from your seat, clutching your bag as you tried to gather yourself.

The platform was just as you remembered it: bustling with witches and wizards, steam curling in the crisp air, and the faint smell of coal mingling with the fresh, wintry scent of snow. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the lampposts, casting a warm glow on the frosted cobblestones, while festive garlands of holly and enchanted mistletoe draped along the edges of the station roof. You adjusted the strap of your bag and stepped off the train, your boots crunching against the frost-dusted ground.

The walk into the village was surreal, like stepping back into a dream you hadn’t dared let yourself miss too much. The bustling streets, the cheerful glow of the shop windows, the distant chatter of students—every detail tugged at something deep inside you. It looked the same, as though no time had passed, and yet that was precisely what unsettled you.

Time had passed. Seven years, to be exact.

Seven years since you’d walked these streets as a Hogwarts student, clutching a bag of Honeydukes’ sweets or ducking into the Three Broomsticks with your friends to escape the cold. Seven years since you’d stood inside Stitches and Draughts as its owner, turning your ideas into enchanted creations, the room filled with the warmth of softly glowing candles and the sound of laughter. Seven years since you’d worked side by side with Ominis, his sharp wit cutting through Sebastian’s dramatic tales of Quidditch triumphs, all while the three of you shared late nights in the shop as though the world outside didn’t exist.

But even then, you’d known the shop wasn’t meant to be your forever.

The decision to give it to Ominis had come in the quiet months of your seventh year, after countless conversations where he’d confided in you about his family, his fears, and the cage he felt he could never escape. You’d listened as he spoke of the suffocating expectations of the Gaunt name, how every aspect of his life had been dictated by tradition and duty.

And money.

It wasn’t fair. Ominis deserved more than that. Far, far more.

Your Ominis deserved everything.

The idea had taken root during one of those late nights in the shop. He’d been helping you charm a batch of scarves to repel rain when you’d caught him standing at the counter, running his hands over the worn wood. There’d been a wistful look on his face, one that had stayed with you long after the candles were extinguished and the shop had gone dark.

By the time graduation loomed, the decision felt inevitable.

You still remembered the day you handed him the deed, the way his pale fingers trembled as he unrolled the parchment. His expression had been unreadable at first, his face carefully composed as he scanned the document.

“What is this?” he’d asked, his voice low and wary.

“It’s yours,” you’d replied, keeping your tone light even as your heart pounded. “The shop. Everything in it. Consider it a… graduation gift.”

The silence that followed had been deafening. Ominis had stared at you, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“You can’t be serious,” he’d said finally. “This is yours. Your work. You can’t just—”

“I can,” you’d interrupted, placing a hand over his. “And I am. You’re the only one I trust to take care of it. To make it more than I ever could.”

He’d tried to argue, of course. Ominis always argued. But you’d stood your ground, knowing in your heart it was the right choice.

“It’s not just about the shop,” you’d said softly, looking into his unseeing eyes. “It’s... about giving you a way out. A chance to build something that’s yours—not theirs.”

That had silenced him.

He’d accepted the deed reluctantly, his gratitude laced with disbelief. And though you hadn’t admitted it aloud, you’d known you were giving him more than just the shop. More than just securing his freedom. You were giving him a part of yourself, a way to stay connected even when you left.

And now, as Christmas loomed all these years later, your legs carried you through the village, back to that very same place. You were almost on autopilot, even as your heart pounded erratically in your chest with every step that brought you closer to the shop. Around you, the village bustled with holiday cheer, but all of it faded into the background, a distant hum drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat.

And then you were there.

And Stitches and Draughts looked beautiful.

The building had been freshly painted, its trim gleaming with a soft, snowy white that contrasted perfectly with the deep emerald of the shop’s sign—still the same one you’d painted years ago, but lovingly restored. The doorframe was draped with enchanted holly garlands, the bright red berries twinkling like tiny stars. The windows sparkled in the glow of lights strung carefully along the eaves, and the front display was nothing short of magical.

Inside the glass, enchanted scarves floated gracefully in midair, their threads shimmering with subtle, festive embroidery—snowflakes that danced along the hems, holly leaves that twisted and turned like they were caught in a gentle breeze. Beside them, self-heating gloves sat arranged in neat little bundles, their tags tied with golden ribbons that seemed to hum faintly with charmwork.

It was perfect. Too perfect. And the sight of it, so familiar and yet so undeniably different, had your heart aching in your chest. This wasn’t just a shop anymore—it was his shop. Every detail spoke of Ominis’ care, his precision, his thoughtfulness. He’d taken what you’d built and turned it into something so much more.

Your grip tightened on the strap of your bag as your eyes flicked between the display and the freshly polished door handle. The urge to turn and flee surged through you, but your feet remained rooted to the spot. You’d faced cursed ruins, ancient traps, and magic designed to kill, but nothing—nothing—had ever felt as daunting as the prospect of walking through that door.

Would he even want to see you? Would he welcome you after all this time, after the months of silence and unfulfilled promises? Or had the years widened the distance between you too far to bridge?

The bell above the door jingled as someone exited the shop, their arms laden with carefully wrapped packages. They offered you a polite smile as they passed, but you barely noticed, your gaze fixed on the door that had swung closed behind them.

Your legs felt heavy as you took a hesitant step forward. Then another.

With a deep, unsteady exhale, you pushed the door open, the familiar chime of the bells above echoing like a memory brought to life.

The warmth of the shop enveloped you immediately, the scent of cedar and lavender mingling with something faintly sweet—probably from a batch of enchanted candles near the counter. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bolts of fabric, potion bottles, and racks of neatly displayed scarves and gloves. The hum of magic thrummed softly in the air, a comforting, familiar sound.

But none of it mattered, not really.

Your eyes were drawn to the figure standing behind the counter, his back to you, the blond of his hair catching the golden light.

"Be with you in a moment," he said, his voice smooth and warm, but it hit you like a jolt of lightning.

It had been so long—too long—since you’d last heard his voice, and even now, it was exactly as you remembered, richer with age but still undeniably Ominis. It overwhelmed you, the weight of it pressing down on the breath you tried to draw, stealing the words you’d thought you’d prepared.

And then he turned.

The sight of him was truly your undoing.

Ominis was taller than you remembered, his frame lean but strong, elegant but unyielding. He was wearing a soft sweater in a deep charcoal gray, the fabric snug across his broad shoulders and loose around his narrow waist, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal the sharp angles of his wrists and the pale skin of his forearms. His blond hair, a touch longer than it had been when you’d last seen him, was still combed back, though a strand at the front had fallen to rest against the curve of his face.

Time had only refined the sharpness of his cheekbones and the strong, angular line of his jaw. His features were striking in a way that felt almost unfair, the kind of beauty that drew the eye and held it captive.

And yet, there was something softer about him, too—something that hadn’t been there before. The rigid tension that had so often defined him in your Hogwarts years seemed less pronounced, replaced by a quiet ease as he worked. He looked… content.

It was too much.

You’d imagined this reunion a hundred different ways, but none of them had accounted for the way it would feel to see him again, to hear his voice, to stand so close and yet feel the weight of all the time and space that had separated you.

“My apologies for the delay. Welcome to Stitches and Draughts,” he said, his tone polite and practiced, yet warm in a way that made your chest ache. He tilted his head slightly, as though listening more intently. “What can I help you with today?”

The words hung in the air, impossibly ordinary for a moment that felt anything but.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. All the carefully rehearsed greetings, the lighthearted explanations you’d planned for why it had taken so long to return, evaporated.

Your silence stretched just a second too long, and you saw the faint furrow of his brow, the slight tilt of his head as he picked up on your hesitation.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening, concern creeping into his tone.

That was what finally broke you.

“Ominis,” you managed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it.

His lips parted as though to say something, but no words came, and his sightless eyes, usually so calm and focused, seemed to search for you in the space between.

“Is it—” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges. “Is… it really you?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and relentless. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see the gesture.

“It’s me,” you managed.

Ominis moved before you could register it, stepping out from behind the counter with a swiftness that made your breath catch. “You’re here,” he murmured, his voice filled with something close to wonder. “You’re actually here. But you… you didn’t write back. I thought—”

“I know,” you said quickly, guilt flooding your chest. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I—” Your voice faltered. How could you possibly explain everything? The silence, the distance, the fear?

Before you could try, Ominis closed the gap between you. His hands reached out, tentatively searching, as though he were afraid to reach out and find nothing there. When his fingers brushed against your sleeve, he inhaled sharply, and then his hands moved upward, settling on your shoulders.

You watched as his expression crumbled. The carefully constructed composure he’d always worn fell away, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

“You’re home,” he said, his voice trembling. “How long have you been planning this?”

The crack in his voice broke something inside you. “I… for months,” you whispered, your own voice shaking. “I'm so sorry, it took so long—”

Your words were cut off again as Ominis pulled you into him, strong arms wrapping around you with a desperate urgency, his hands firm against your back as if he were afraid to let go, afraid you might slip away again. The suddenness of it made you stiffen, your insecurities flaring instantly to life.

He’d know.

He’d feel the difference—the softness of your curves where you’d once been lithe, the weight you carried now, both physical and emotional. The image of what you’d been years ago, the version of you he might still hold in his mind, clashed violently with the reality of who you were now.

But then there was the feel of him.

Him, warm against you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the faint scent of his characteristic cologne—it was all so achingly familiar, so Ominis, that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the way you’d changed.

Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you let yourself sink into his chest, your arms lifting to wrap around his waist. You clung to him, the years of distance and silence collapsing between you as if they’d never existed.

His hand moved gently, brushing over your hair in a soothing rhythm that made your heart ache. “I missed you hopelessly.” He murmured, his voice muffled by your hair

“I missed you more than anything,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at him, tears still streaming freely down your cheeks. “I thought about you every day.”

Ominis pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. His sightless eyes searched your face as though he could somehow see you, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles. You felt his thumb brush against your sleeve, as if he needed the tactile confirmation that you were truly there. One of his hands slid down to grasp yours, his fingers curling firmly around yours as if to anchor you both in this moment.

For a long, breathless second, neither of you spoke.

Then, without a word, Ominis turned toward the shop’s entrance, your hand still firmly in his. He moved quickly, his steps sure as he crossed the space to the door. Releasing your hand only briefly, he flipped the sign to Closed and twisted the lock with a decisive click.

“To hell with work,” he muttered under his breath, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The words caught you off guard, pulling a startled laugh from you—a sound you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back.

When he turned back to you, his expression softened further, though there was still an edge of something you couldn’t quite name in the set of his jaw. Relief, perhaps. Or the determination of someone who wasn’t about to let this moment slip away.

“Come upstairs,” he said, his voice low and steady. “The shop can wait.”

He didn’t give you a chance to argue—not that you would have—before leading you to the small staircase tucked behind the counter. His hand stayed in yours as he guided you, his grip firm but gentle, like he was still afraid to let go.

The stairs creaked faintly under your feet as you followed Ominis into the flat above the shop. The scent of cedar lingered here too, mixed with something faintly herbal—his cologne, no doubt.

“Forgive the state of things,” he said quickly, his tone uncharacteristically self-conscious as he gestured toward the room. “I wasn’t exactly expecting... well, anyone. Least of all you.”

But as your eyes roamed the space, you couldn’t find the “mess” he spoke of. The room was tidy, cozy, and so very him. A small bookshelf stood against one wall, lined with neatly arranged tomes you recognized from your Hogwarts years, alongside a few newer additions. A comfortable-looking armchair sat in one corner, its seat draped with a soft, worn throw blanket. A half empty mug of tea sat forgotten on the small table beside it, next to what appeared to be a half-finished crossword puzzle.

There were small signs of his life everywhere: a folded sweater resting on the back of the chair, a walking stick leaning against the wall by the door, a well-cared-for violin resting in its case near the bookshelf. The window was framed by simple curtains, their edges charmed to shimmer faintly in the light, a detail that felt unmistakably him.

“It’s perfect,” you said, turning to him with a soft smile.

He let out a huff of disbelief. “Hardly. It’s small, and I wasn’t expecting guests, so it’s a bit—”

“No, really,” you insisted, stepping further into the room. “It’s... you. I mean that in the best way.”

His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, his free hand gestured vaguely at the space. “I haven’t had much reason to bring anyone up here,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “I usually keep to myself unless Sebastian or Anne drag me out for something."

You turned back to him, catching the faint blush dusting his cheeks as he moved to straighten a few items on the table near the armchair. The sight made your heart ache in the best way, the years falling away as though you’d never been apart.

“It’s nice to see you’ve kept up the crossword habit,” you teased, gesturing toward the table.

Ominis smirked, his confidence returning just enough to quip, “It’s either that or let my mind wander, and we both know that can only lead to trouble.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, "That's true."

He gestured toward the couch near the window, its cushions plump and inviting. “Sit,” he said, his tone soft but insistent. “I'm sure you’ve been traveling all day.”

You hesitated, still standing near the door, but Ominis stepped closer, his expression gentle. “Please,” he added, his voice quieter now.

With a nod, you set your bag down near the door and crossed to the couch, sinking into its cushions. It was as comfortable as it looked, and you let out a quiet sigh as the tension in your body began to ease.

He moved toward the kitchenette. “Tea?” he asked, his head tilted slightly in your direction.

“Yes, please,” you said quickly, your voice softer than you intended.

Ominis nodded, his movements fluid and purposeful as he filled the kettle and set it on the small stove.

“I’ve got chamomile, mint, and… some Earl Grey that Sebastian swore I’d love but tastes like someone soaked socks in bergamot,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk.

You laughed softly, leaning back into the couch. “Chamomile sounds perfect.”

He nodded, plucking the sachet from its place with an almost practiced precision, his hands moving with the same quiet grace you remembered so vividly. Despite the ease of his movements, you could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders, the way he hesitated before reaching for the mugs.

"Did Sebastian and Anne know about you coming back?" Ominis asked, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge of curiosity.

You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of the couch cushion. "No," you admitted softly. "I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t… want them to spill the secret. I thought it might be better this way."

He turned slightly, his sightless eyes tilted in your direction, one brow arching faintly. “Better for whom?”

You huffed a humorless laugh, biting your lip. "Me, I guess. I thought if I just showed up, it would be easier. Less... complicated."

Ominis tilted his head slightly, as though weighing your words, his fingers brushing the rim of the mug as he prepared your tea. "You thought sneaking back into Hogsmeade unannounced would be less complicated?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite the knot of nerves in your chest. "Okay, maybe not less complicated. But at least it meant I wouldn’t have to explain myself to Sebastian. You know how he gets."

He let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine, and it warmed something deep inside you. "Indeed. He is relentless," he said, placing the mug of chamomile tea in front of you on the low table. "Though, I can’t say I’d have been any better. If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything else."

You looked up at him, startled by the quiet sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression open and unguarded as he sat down across from you, his own mug cradled in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait,” you said softly, your fingers curling around the warm ceramic. “I just—” You paused, your words catching in your throat. "I don't know. I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm here now."

Ominis’ lips pressed together for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as though he wanted to press further. His hands tightened almost imperceptibly around his mug, the tension in his shoulders betraying his thoughts.

But then he exhaled softly, the lines of his face smoothing as he nodded. “You’re here now,” he repeated, his voice quiet but steady, though you could hear the unspoken for how long? lingering in the air.

You quickly took a sip of your tea, the warmth a welcome distraction as you scrambled for something that would steer the conversation elsewhere. “This tea is lovely,” you said, offering a smile that you hoped looked effortless. “Everything is. The flat, the shop... it’s all incredible. You must be so proud of what you’ve built.”

Ominis tilted his head slightly, his expression softening into something almost amused. “That’s kind of you to say, but I hardly think a well-stocked tea shelf qualifies as incredible.”

You laughed, grateful for the easy banter. “It’s not just the tea shelf, though it is very impressive. The shop looks amazing—I noticed the display when I walked in. And the enchanted holly on the door? It’s such a nice touch. It’s all so... you.”

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I did have some help with the holly—Anne insisted. She thought it might ‘soften my cold, foreboding reputation.’”

You grinned, picturing Anne bustling around the shop, her infectious energy clashing against Ominis’ quieter demeanor. “I think it works. Though I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re 'foreboding'.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” he said dryly, his smirk deepening. “Anne says I scare away the first years who stop in. Apparently, my ‘stern demeanor’ doesn’t pair well with curious children looking for enchanted scarves.”

You laughed, the image of wide-eyed first-years inching cautiously into the shop playing vividly in your mind. “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” you teased. “Maybe they just don’t appreciate your charm.”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, his smirk softening. “Charm, is it? I’ll be sure to tell Anne you said that next time she accuses me of being the ‘shopkeeper equivalent of a Boggart.’”

That earned another laugh, lighter this time, and you shook your head. “If she really thought you were a Boggart, she wouldn’t have helped with the decorations.”

“She likes to keep me humble,” he replied, his tone full of wry affection.

But even as Ominis joined in your banter, you could see the way his fingers drummed absently against the side of his mug, his thoughts clearly turning over something unsaid. He was playing along with your attempts at small talk, but you knew he wasn’t fooled.

Still, for now, he let it go, his quiet smile lingering as he said, “So tell me, how does it feel to be back?”

The question caught you off guard, and your smile faltered slightly. “It feels... surreal,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “Like I’ve been gone forever, and yet somehow nothing’s changed.”

Ominis nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Hogsmeade does have a way of staying the same. But you..." He hesitated, and his words hung in the air, unfinished but heavy with meaning.

You’re different.

He had noticed. Of course he had. Ominis was nothing if not perceptive.

You lowered your mug to the table, your hands curling into your lap as if that could somehow steady you. The warmth that had spread through your chest moments ago was now replaced with a twisting unease, a voice in the back of your mind whispering, This is it. This is when he sees what’s changed and decides it isn’t enough. That you aren’t enough.

"I know I’m different," you murmured, your voice trembling under the strain of your nerves. It cracked as you spoke, barely louder than a whisper. "I… I’m not the same person I was when I left. I know I’m not exactly how you remember me, and I—" Your breath faltered, hitching as you shook your head, your thoughts spiraling. "I just didn’t want you to be disappointed."

“Disappointed?” Ominis’ voice broke through your spiraling thoughts like a sudden, sharp wind, and when you looked up, his sightless eyes were fixed on you, his expression taut with something between shock and frustration. "Is this... is this why you've taken so long to come home?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and unrelenting, like the edge of a blade poised to strike. You opened your mouth to answer, but no sound came. The truth was tangled in your chest, knotted with years of insecurity and fear, and the weight of it pressed down on your throat, stealing your voice.

Ominis’ expression softened as he straightened in his chair, his jaw tightening as though he were holding back his own frustration—not at you, but at the very idea that you could feel this way. He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his mug before setting it aside with deliberate care.

“Is that really what you’ve been carrying all this time?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You thought I’d be... disappointed? In you?”

The lump in your throat grew heavier. "I’ve been gone so long... and you’ve built this incredible life here, and I—” You hesitated, your breath catching as you fought to steady yourself. “I didn’t know if I’d still fit into it.”

“You think I could ever—” He stopped himself, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Merlin’s beard, don't you have any idea how much of this life exists because of you?”

Ominis leaned forward further, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. His fingers curled and uncurled against one another, as though he were searching for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm.

“Do you know what I thought when you walked into that shop today?” he asked, his words deliberate.

You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “No,” you whispered.

“I thought I’d finally woken up from the longest, most frustrating dream of my life,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. "And now, you’re sitting here, telling me you’re afraid I’d notice you’ve changed. Of course you’ve changed. I’d be more worried if you hadn’t. Life does that to people. It changes them. But just because you're different doesn't mean..." he swallowed, his words catching for just a moment before he pressed on, his voice quieter but laced with conviction. “Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you’re any less.”

He paused, his fingers tightening where they rested, his knuckles pale with the effort. His expression softened as his words seemed to tumble out, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “That couldn’t be further from the truth, actually.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, by the faint flush creeping up his neck.

Ominis sat back slightly, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of bashfulness. “It’s been seven years,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Seven years, and in the brief time I’ve had to—to touch you, to hear you, to smell that very same perfume you always wear, you’ve only… Merlin, I don’t even know how to say this without sounding foolish.”

You felt your breath hitch, your pulse quickening as his words sank in. He wasn’t looking at you, not exactly, but the intensity in his voice made it feel as though he could see every piece of you, laid bare and vulnerable.

He exhaled slowly, tilting his head slightly in your direction as he gathered his thoughts. “You’ve only improved,” he said finally, his voice low but unwavering. “Despite whatever ridiculous notions you’ve been carrying around, you haven’t diminished. You haven’t become ‘less.’ If anything, you’re... more.”

“You’ve been away, yes," he continued. "You’ve faced things I can only imagine. And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, as strong and resilient and...” He hesitated, his lips curving into a faint, almost shy smile. “As breathtaking as the day you left. You think I’d notice the changes and find fault with them? How could I, when every single one is just another piece of the person I’ve been missing for so long?”

Your hand flew to your mouth, your vision blurring with tears. "Are you... you sure? You really don't have to say this, I—"

He shook his head, raising a hand to stop you, though his touch hovered just shy of reaching across the small space between you. “Of course I'm sure,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve never been more certain of anything."

He drew in a slow, measured breath, his shoulders rising and falling as though he were steadying himself for a duel.

“I’ve spent seven years wondering if I’d ever get the chance to say this,” he admitted. “To say all the things I was too much of a coward to admit before you left. And I won’t waste it by letting you believe for even a second that you’re anything less than extraordinary," his voice softened, trembling at the edges as he stood from his chair. For a moment, he simply stood there, his sightless eyes cast downward as though steadying himself for what he was about to do. Then, slowly, he moved forward, kneeling on the floor in front of you with a grace that made your breath catch.

His hands reached out, tentative but deliberate, brushing over yours where they rested in your lap before curling around them.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. “But I need you to hear this. I need you to understand.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“I love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands. " I’ve loved you for so long that I don’t even remember what it feels like not to. And I know I should’ve said this before. I should’ve told you when we were still at Hogwarts, when you handed me the shop, when you left. But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean, scared I’d ruin what we had. And then you were gone, and I thought… I thought maybe I’d lost my chance.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, your heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might shatter through your ribs.

“But now you’re here,” he said, his words almost a whisper. “And I can’t let you leave again without knowing how much you mean to me. You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known, and I’ve spent seven years building a life that, no matter how complete it might seem from the outside, has always been missing you.”

You stared at him, your breath catching as the world seemed to slow around you. The face you’d waited seven years to see again—its every detail etched into your memory but now somehow more vivid, more real—was right before you. The faint furrow of his brow, the slight parting of his lips as though bracing himself for your response, the glisten of unshed tears in his sightless eyes.

It was all so achingly familiar, and yet time had made him even more beautiful in his quiet, unassuming way.

And you loved him.

You always had.

The years apart, the missed chances, the countless letters you’d written and rewritten but never sent—it all fell away, leaving only this moment. This man. The only person who had ever made you feel like you belonged.

“I’ve loved you too,” you whispered, the words spilling from your lips unbidden, your voice trembling but resolute.

Ominis stilled, his brows furrowing further as though he hadn’t quite heard you. “What?”

You reached out, your hands shaking as you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. His breath hitched, his sightless eyes searching the space between you as though trying to see what your touch already told him.

“I love you, Ominis,” you said again, your voice steadying as you saw the hope flicker to life in his expression. “I always have."

His lips parted, his breath catching audibly as he tilted his head toward your hands, leaning into your touch as though it were the only thing grounding him.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You smiled through your tears, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice soft but sure.

A shaky laugh escaped him, a sound filled with so much relief and joy it sent a fresh wave of tears streaming down your cheeks. His hands moved to cradle your face, his touch reverent and tender as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Merlin,” he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t believe... after all this time...”

“Believe it,” you said, your voice filled with quiet certainty.

His grip tightened slightly, his hands trembling as he pulled you closer. “Promise me,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Promise me you’ll stay—I’m begging you—don’t leave again. Merlin, I... I can’t go another seven years without you. Not knowing where you are, if you’re safe, if you’ll ever come back.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I promise.”

[ilypaigebuckets]

can u write a paige bueckers x reader where reader is a cheerleader and gets into a fight with another cheerleader and paige goes to separate them and calm reader down also could u give reader a name

yes! this is such a good idea :) i think i’ll be able to write this pretty well bc i do cheer and dance! for the name ill just do mine bc im not creative😛 this came out kinda bad im not really proud of it im so sorry! i hope you like it anyways if not i can always rewrite it!!

Bring it On - Paige Bueckers x Reader

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: kenzie’s a cheerleader at uconn, and also paige’s gf!

“Let’s go, P!” Screamed Mackenzie as her cheered from the sidelines for her superstar girlfriend, Paige Bueckers. The two had been in a committed relationship for another 8 months now and were very much in love. They were public with their relationship, and the media seemed to eat it up. Paige dribbled the ball behind herself and shot the ball from where she was standing.

“And Bueckers shoots a three!” The sports broadcaster narrating the game exclaimed. Kenzie waved her poms high in the air. She loved hyping up the crowd and cheering for all the girls at Uconn, but of course she cheered just a little harder for her superstar girlfriend. The other team’s cheerleaders did not have the same enthusiasm for their team. Of course, there wasn’t much to cheer for; Uconn was beating the opposing team 26-48 and it seemed it would be an easy dub for them.

The girls on the other team seemed to be a little cocky, at least that was what Kenzie picked up from their mannerisms. Anytime someone from Uconn had the ball the girls rolled their eyes. They hadn’t trash talked or said anything bad verbally, though, which Kenzie and the rest of the cheerleaders were grateful for. Finally, it was 4th quarter. Uconn was still very much in the lead and both the other team’s basketball players and cheerleaders had all but given up. Kenzie tightened her bow and waved her poms up high, “Let’s go Uconn!” The other girls joined in and rallied with her, which in turn brought the crowd’s noise level up. Then a girl on the opposite cheer team said rather loudly, “Oh my god. Can she, like, shut up?” Kenzie rolled her eyes and brushed it off. She honestly couldn’t care less about what people had to say. She was a cheerleader, and she was going to cheer. She hadn’t gone D1 in cheerleading just to stand there.

The comment quickly rolled off Kenzie’s back and was forgotten about in a matter of a few minutes. In the last 30 seconds of the game, Kk passed the ball to Paige who shot it into the net. The crowd exploded and everyone cheered. The cheerleaders all rallied and did the chant they did everytime their school won a game. Everything was perfectly fine until Kenzie heard that same scratchy voice from the other side of the court. This time the yelling wasn’t directed at her though.

“Number 5 you suck,” the same girl from early shouted, her poms cupping her mouth in an attempt to make her voice louder. Kenzie was fed up. She threw her poms down and calmly walked to the other side of the gym. The girl who had shouted was staring at her blankly, and she walked right over to her.

The rest of the cheerleaders and even Paige and her team were staring to see what Mackenzie was going to do to this girl. “That girl better watch out,” said Nika. “Kenzie doesn’t play with people trash talking Paige.”

Nika couldn’t be more right, because as soon as Kenzie saw the girl she knew what she was going to do. She stood in front of the girl and slapped her across the face.

“What the fuck? What is wrong with you?!” One of the girl’s teammates asked. Paige quickly ran up to the altercation you’d caused and held you back before you could hit the girl any more.

“Don’t say shit about my girlfriend! You can say anything, whatever you want about me, I don’t care. But she works too hard to have someone talk about her like that!”

Paige held your arms and turned you around to face her. “Thank you baby, but you didn’t have to do that. We still beat their team, so it doesn’t matter.” Kenzie nodded at Paige then smiled, “Yeah, you’re right P. Let me go say sorry to her.” Paige smiled at this, happy she’d talked some sense into you. But her smile quickly faded when you walked back up to the girl and slapped her on the other cheek.

“And that one is for telling me to be quiet. I changed my mind, don’t say shit about me either.”

[why-say]

Timothée x reader imagine

Warnings: smut, college smut, self-insert, public sex, friends with benefits, slight weight mention (it’s not specific but it’s mentioned), this one may be more plot that smut, stranger x you x Timothée

word count: 1.8k

This is arguably the best thing i’ve ever written.

I started an etsy account selling phone cases so check that out maybe :)

✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

You got to class late. That wasn’t usually you, but everyone has bad mornings and today was yours. You entered your class from the back of the classroom and saw all of the seats at the front full. You had no choice but to take one near the back, a few seats over from the last person you wanted to sit next too.

“Hello.” You say curtly. He replies back but with a smile and you find that odd. You and Timothée had an agreement. You wouldn’t interact outside of your late-night booty calls. It had worked to keep things less messy like you both wanted.

You try to ignore the interaction and focus on the lesson, but you can’t see the front or the professor at all, there were too many heads in the way. You raise your hand to let him know and ask for a seat at the front but before you can get his attention, Timothee pulls your hand down.

“Just sit on my lap. You’ll be able to see better, I don’t mind.” He says, he’s already looking away like he’s so sure you will.

“Absolutely not! What? That’s so inappropriate, I’ll just…” Your voice trailed off.

You’ll just what? You were busy for the rest of the week so you couldn’t take notes later and the professor didn’t look like he would stop talking anytime soon. Would it really be that bad? It’s innocent right? It’s not like he would start fucking you in class.

“You’ll just what?” Timothée teases? A knowing smile ghosting over his face already.

“Shut up. It’s just so I can see, you know the rules.”

You move and now you are perched lightly on Timothée's lap. No one in the class even turned to look at you. You were sitting near his knees, trying to keep all your weight off of him and keep listening to your professor who was now fiddling with his computer while still talking.

You didn’t see how Timothée could take notes like this, but he didn’t seem to mind and neither did you.

Before you could start writing you felt Timothée move his hand around your waist. He pulled you further into his lap, so your back was flush with his front. You turned your head to meet his eyes. Timothée was a tall man but in this position, you were looking down to see him. You liked it.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Making you and myself comfortable, now continue writing.” He replies, he faces the professor though you can see his mischievousness peeking through.

You could never understand him, but you turned back to continue your work. You feel relaxed. Usually in class you were speed writing, and your brain was going a million miles a minute but today you felt relaxed while still writing. You didn’t understand why. Surely it couldn’t be Timothée? His presence couldn’t be the thing making you feel different. You took a moment to think and that’s when you noticed his arm never left your waist. He was making circles on the side of your body, softly stroking. You turned to face him, and he looked so calm you didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing.

His eyes turned to look at you and you cut your gaze away quickly. You weren’t going to let him distract you outside of your arrangement.

“Shhh, just relax and enjoy it. mkay?” Timothée suddenly whispered. What?

You didn’t understand what he was talking about. It wasn’t until you felt his other hand at your knee make its way up, his other hand still holding your waist.

His hand met the bottom of your skirt, and he kept going, slipping under the skirt. Your body felt hot. You shifted so you were now crossing your legs. His hand was trapped between your thighs, cutting off his movement. You didn’t know the kind of reaction he would give but you were happy to put a stop to whatever he was doing. Or were you? Your breathing was heavier, and your body was still hot.

But it was so inappropriate.

You heard him laugh quietly in your ear. He moved his hands, and you uncrossed your legs. You thought that was that.

The teacher kept talking though you weren’t listening anymore. You couldn’t pay attention to anything with your thoughts ruminating. What was Timothée doing? Why wasn’t he keeping to the arrangement? Did he want you outside of the late-night booty calls?

The light to the classroom goes off and your pulled from your thoughts. You look around and no one is freaking out, so you assume the professor is putting on a film. Your thoughts are correct as an old black and white movie appears. You can’t see anything but the screen except the heads of the people in front of you, but you can’t make out who they are.

“Relax, He put on an old film because we had time left and he finished talking.” Timothée says, still whispering but even lower because it’s so silent. People are still talking to their friends but they’ were trying to keep it lower than the movie which is pretty quiet.

“Okay.” Is all you can think of to say. You're ready to get back into your deep thoughts when you feel Timothée's hands return to where they belong. Where they belong? You couldn’t believe you just said that. Or thought that?

He placed his hands on each of your thighs and moved your legs to the outside of his. His own legs keeping your spread wide open. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because in reality you really really needed him. It was all you could think about right now and if he didn’t finish what he started you were going to pop.

With his knees keeping you spread bare his hands made work of you. He slipped his fingers past your underwear, feeling the wetness already there. His fingers lightly pressing into you then back out, shallowly thrusting.

The class was so silent you knew you couldn’t make any noise, but your mouth let out an involuntary moan. No body turned around, so you hope no one heard you.

“I’m not plugging your mouth baby it’s all up to you to keep quiet. Or don’t.” Timothée murmurs.

His words don’t require a reply, but you nod your head anyways, already lost in pleasure.

Sex with him always felt good but it was something about the public humiliation that could happen at any moment that made you feel this all so much more.

His finger continued to work into you, almost prepping you but you couldn’t figure out what for. He flicked your clit unexpectedly and you let out a sharp cry. It wasn’t so loud, but you heard some shuffling a few rows down and to the side. Timothée didn’t stop his assault on your body while you glanced around the classroom. No one was looking but honestly you didn’t care.

You grounded your hips further down trying to feel him deeper, and as if reading your body Timothée moved his hand so two fingers were deep inside your cunt and the heel of his hand was rubbing your clit. His fingers were twisting and pumping into you in ways that made you hold your breath to keep your moans in. You tried to close your legs as a reflex but his own just spread you wider.

The classroom felt like an inferno, and you were ready to cum. Timothée removed his hand from your cunt unexpectedly. You let out an involuntary whine in response.

Timothée moved your further down his now closed thighs, towards his knees. You didn’t understand why? Was he not letting you cum? Had somebody been watching.

You searched around the classroom and to your complete and utter dismay somebody had their eyes on yours. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, but they were standing near the door at the back of the classroom. You knew from what you could see it was a man and his arm was moving weirdly. Before you could try figure out who it was or what he was doing, you felt hands move you again. Too dazed to struggle you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your exposed and dripping pussy meet the head of Timothée's cock.

You felt him slowly pull you down his shaft. Your cunt accommodating for his size and length with an uncomfortable stretch. It was always a struggle trying to fit Timothée inside you, that was why you always prepped yourself with your favourite toys before you saw him. The lack of preparation allowed a strained cry to slip through your lips. You couldn’t think to care who had heard that, but you opened your eyes anyways when you heard a distant grunt. The man at the back of the classroom had your attention and apparently, he had Timothees too. But he wasn’t stopping.

If anything, the attention from the strange man had made Timothee work harder to thrust into you. Because of how wet you were he couldn’t be fast because people would hear, but that didn’t stop him fucking you hard. It felt like he was fucking your breath away with every thrust and you were delirious. Your sensations were limited to just this feeling, the fullness of your cunt, the heat inside your body and the ache at the bottom of your belly.

You could hear Timothée's soft moans and groans in your ear and that was what set you off. Timothée followed behind you quickly after his thrusts turned harder. You felt his warm cum hit your insides and you let out a sigh of content. You wished you could've swallowed his cum instead, but this would do.

Timothée was still panting in your ear, and it wasn’t until you felt something warm and wet hit the side of your face and hair that you remembered the stranger. Both you and Timothée turned back to look at him. He was there, you could see his chest moving up and down rapidly. Timothées hand moved to the liquid on your face. He gathered some on his fingers and placed it in his mouth. He smirked and you didn’t know why until he did the same to you. It was cum.

Moaning at the taste of the strangers cum on Timothees fingers. You looked back up to the stranger and saw him wave before leaving.

These the weirdest lesson you’ve ever day. And you kind of hoped to have it again. You didn't know how you were going to leave the classroom without people knowing what happened, but you didn't care right now.

~~~

Y’all tell me if you liked the longer fic? the plot? idk i need feedback!!

[majoryeager104]

can you write ua touya but with a so? i love the way you picture this aaaaaa😭😭

of course pooksss omg thanks for the request <3

High school Touya x gn!reader

summary: Touya as your boyfriend going to UA together. First half Headcannons then an x reader bc I’m down bad too 😭😭😭

warnings: language, crackhead behavior from Touya, as usual

High school Touya would be an absolute PAIN

ESPECIALLY if you’re his lover

I think he’d be a dry texter. Like dry as fuck

”Touya ur 30 minutes late to class?! Where have you been 😭😭😭”

”Omw” TEN MINUTES LATER.

SMH

he tries to act aloof and cool to his other classmates but really he just comes off as a major asshole

which he claims is even better

But really he’s just a big softie

he loves the attention and affection that, with his pretty eyes and whiny charming nature, he can very easily get from you.

He’s so upfront about it too

hear me out for a sec

He’s got the good grades, okay? He’s got all a’s he doesn’t play around. 

But he’ll bug the life out of you anyways

He’ll ask you to help him with his homework and act like he doesn’t know anything about the subject 

Just so he can hear you talk

Oh, and then when you’re done he’ll roll his eyes and be like

“Do you ever quit yapping?”

With that smirk (you know the one)

and if you turn him down? Pouts all day.

you won’t get away with it, he always has the last laugh. (Observe teehee)

————————————————————————

“hey doll-“

“not doing it”

you shut your locker with a thud, immediately turning away from him and his Cheshire Cat grin

“Please? I really need help this time”

he pouted, pulling you back towards him to give you those big sad blue eyes of his, his white, fluffy hair barely concealing the mischief behind them. “no Touya, I’m barely keeping up with this assignment myself-“

“we can study together-“

you shot him a glare, and he pouted even more, crossing his arms as he averted his gaze with a huff. “fine. I guess I’ll just fail then.”

he said, barely able to contain his smirk as an idea popped into his head, but you saw it, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. What was he up to now?

1:30 PM

Touya (dni)

baby please

you

NO. SHOO 😤

————————————————————————

Soon enough, classes were dismissed, and you were walking alongside each other on your ways home. You lived nearby, so he always walked you home, on top of that, he’d carry your schoolbag for you, pulling it from your grip with a wink. “that looks heavy doll”

He swung it over his shoulder, carrying both his bag and yours with a smirk widening on his face

“what’re you up to?”

You giggled, watching his expression as the two of you approached your house. “Oh nothing. Can’t a guy help out every once in a while?” He pouted, once again failing to hide his wide grin as he walked you to the door. “Do you wanna come in or something?” You said cautiously, smiling as you realized his plan, or so you thought. “Eh, for a minute I suppose” he shrugged, his grin growing. You rolled your eyes, opening the door as he let you inside in front of him. You waved to your mom in the kitchen, who smiled when she saw you two, greeting the two of you as she walked out of the kitchen towards you. She gave you a hug, and then looked at Touya

“Thanks so much for coming by to help with y/n’s homework, Touya, I don’t know what she’d do without you”

“Of course! I’ll gladly help her anytime she needs it”

your eyes widened as you looked over at him, a triumphant grin on his face. His plot clicked in your head, those knowing blue eyes of his sending you a wink as he pulled you towards your room

“cmon Y/n! Wouldn’t want those grades of yours to slip!”

——

Banner Creds to @ Cuine.art 🙌🙌🙌

[e-dubbc11]

LAST ANGST, I SWEAR.

"am I too late?" + "I did care, I used to care" with this hoe:

After this it'll all be sunshine and rainbows 😭😭😭

Hello my lovely friend!

Ok so I know you didn’t ask for this but the prompts you sent in finally inspired me to write a second part to another Matt fic I did called Unforgiven so I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for sending in a request for this hoe 🤣 I hope it’s ok and thank you for being a part of my follower celebration. You’re a wonderful friend and I love you to pieces.

Unforgiven Part 2

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, couple of swear words, mentions of smexy time (18+ please)

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: Matt had vowed to win you back after you had told him to leave. A new man is one of the obstacles in his way.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your body temperature had immediately risen when you uttered those four words. “I don’t forgive you.” Matt could feel the heat radiating off of your body and your heart forcefully beating inside your chest. You weren’t sure you had ever been that angry, that hurt, or had your heart broken that badly.

He knew he had hurt you with his lies and secrets but in his heart, he was just protecting you, keeping you safe, and making sure that his nighttime activities weren’t spilling into his everyday life as an attorney, a friend, and a boyfriend.

Although you made it very clear to him that you didn’t want to see him anymore; he was no longer your boyfriend and he could continue to be The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen without having you as a distraction but his secret would be safe with you.

When you told him to go, you tried your best to hold it together, to not let your voice crack or have your tears fall but as soon as he disappeared that night, your tears spilled over and streaked down your cheeks as fresh sobs fled from your throat. Remembering how acute Matt’s hearing was, you knew that he had probably heard you crying while trying to keep your balance as you carefully walked over to close the window Matt had left open.

Your knees gave out just as you reached your bed, you could already feel your eyes start to swell from the tears as you buried your face into your pillow and cried yourself to sleep. You saw Matt in your dreams that night. The man with the kind hazel eyes, soft brown hair, the adorable dimple on his cheek, and red tinted glasses suddenly morphed into the masked vigilante they called The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. His face was close to yours, a black leather glove caressed your cheek as he apologized over and over again for lying to you but even in your dreams you didn’t forgive him.

However, in both the waking world and the dreaming one, it broke your heart to tell him goodbye. You loved him too but some mistakes are not that easy to forgive and you wondered if you ever could forgive Matt or trust him again.

**********

Each day that had passed and you didn’t think about Matt was better than the ones where he rudely invaded your headspace but as the weeks passed, you had more good days than bad ones, and you even started seeing someone new.

But anytime The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was in the news, you wondered if Matt was ok, how many scrapes and bruises did he go home with this time, and probably the one question that had been on your mind the most…Was he seeing anyone new?

It wasn’t supposed to matter. You were seeing someone else so why shouldn’t he? Was he honest with them about his little “side job?” Why were you still thinking about him?

Finally, enough time had passed to where you barely thought about him even if the Devil was mentioned on the news. It passed quickly and you were able to go about your day without Matt lingering among your thoughts. Your relationship with your boyfriend, Nathan, was going well; you were…happy.

At least you thought you were.

And not only did the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen keep his city safe, Matt was keeping you safe also. He never stopped worrying about you walking around the city at night even though you had grown up in Hell’s Kitchen, just like he did. He followed you, listened to your phone conversations, and it broke his heart to hear you were seeing someone else.

The night you made him leave your apartment, he told himself that he didn’t care how long it was going to take because he needed you back in his life. Matt never got the chance to explain to you that no one in his life knew he was the masked vigilante, not even his closest friends.

Every time a criminal was put behind bars whether it be from following the law or breaking it, Matt thought it was one step closer to everyone he loved being safe in the city he cared so much about.

But he quickly realized that when you cut the head off of a snake, two more grow back in its place and he sometimes questioned if it was all worth it or he wrestled with his conscience about the moral obligation and that if he could help, he should help.

Matt continued to do everything he could to ensure your safety and just like every weeknight, he waited patiently for you to get home from work. Nathan had a key so he let himself in so he could wait for you too. Matt could hear your boyfriend on the phone telling the person on the other end that he was going to…propose.

Completely shocked, Matt gripped the fire escape tightly so he wouldn’t fall over. He continued to listen to Nathan’s conversation.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her after work for dinner tomorrow night. I was gonna do it then…of course I’ll let you know how it goes. Plan on being my best man…alright, yeah I’ll talk to you soon. Later.” He said.

Matt drew in a sharp breath and a frown darkened his expression as he choked out the only word he could manage to get out, “No…”

It killed him to know that someone else was the object of your affection, that Nathan made you laugh, and your pulse quickened when you saw him. It also made Matt’s blood boil knowing that Nathan was the one who was kissing you, touching you, and pulling sinful noises from you when he wanted to be the one doing those things.

Nathan said he was meeting you for dinner tomorrow night so Matt decided he would meet you first and it would be the first time that he was on time for a date.

**********

Nathan was meeting you at the same restaurant where Matt had stood you up for the final time. It felt a little strange being there again and you thought the restaurant patrons and wait staff were staring at you like last time, even though they weren’t.

As you sat at the table enjoying your wine, you were looking over the menu when the server told you that Nathan was running a little late but he would be there soon. He texted too in case the server forgot to let you know. He was always very thorough.

Continuing to stare down at the menu, you felt someone sit down across from you. Without looking up from the menu, a slight smile stretched across your lips and you said, “Thank god, I’m starving, I ordered you a glass of wine.”

A voice you hadn’t heard in a long time replied, “Well I prefer whiskey but wine will do.”

You knew that low gravelly voice anywhere. When you glanced up from your menu, Matt had a slight smirk on his face.

“Hello, angel.” He said.

Narrowing your eyes, you clenched your teeth together and replied, “Oh now you decide to show up for dinner, Matthew? What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too, sweetheart.” Said Matt.

As you angrily sipped your wine, you forcefully closed your menu, and wished Matt could see how furious you were but he knew without seeing your face. He detected changes in your breathing, how your pulse quickened, he was even close enough to inhale your scent but it wasn’t your perfume.

Seeing him again brought back a flood of emotions…anger, humiliation, sadness but also you were reminded of how attractive he is, the soft sexy tone to his voice, and just the way he made you feel inside.

How could he still have this hold over you? Maybe you never really gave up that hold in the first place.

“You know you can’t just flash that dimple at me and I’ll fall at your feet, Murdock. It doesn’t work that way. Besides…I’m with someone else now.” You said, sternly.

Looking quite nervous, Matt adjusted his glasses, licked his bottom lip and finally asked, “Am I too late?”

“Matty, I just said I’m with someone else now.” You replied, immediately regretting calling him by his nickname.

It took a long time for you to become emotionally stable after Matt left. There were a lot of tears and sleepless nights and it wasn’t because you didn’t love him.

You loved Matt more than anything but he was the one person that you trusted the most and he had been lying to you from the very beginning of your relationship so how could you be sure he wouldn’t do it again?

“But he didn’t ask you yet.” Matt said assertively.

Confused, you replied, “Ask me what? And how do you know Nathan is gonna ask me something? Have you been spying on me?!!”

The tone of your voice went from confused to angry.

“You can’t marry him, sweetheart.” Said Matt in barely more than a whisper as to not draw any attention to your table.

Again, confused, you replied, “Ok first of all, I’m not marrying anyone and second, I know you know something Matt because you wouldn’t have said that, otherwise. You weren’t honest with me before so you either answer my questions truthfully NOW or get the hell outta here. Understand?”

Firmly, Matt said, “I understand, y/n.”

You started your interrogation.

“Have you been following me, Matthew?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you spy on me with your bionic hearing when I’m at home?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever been listening during any…intimate moments?”

Matt’s body tensed and bit back what he wanted to say.

“Do you need me to repeat the question, counselor?” You asked.

“Only once and as soon as I heard what was going on, I left, ok?” He finally said.

You tried to stop yourself from smiling and enjoying yourself but you couldn’t.

“And in your opinion, what did you determine based on what you heard?”

A devilish smirk stretched across his lips and he leaned in closer so you could hear him better.

“That he doesn’t make you come nearly as hard as I do.”

Forcefully clenching your thighs together, you bit back a strangled moan as you remembered seeing stars each time Matt pulled an orgasm from you. He had never been selfish in bed;you would give him that.

You had to pull yourself together as you still had more questions for him.

“Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me about your extracurricular activities?” You asked.

“I thought it would be best if you didn’t know and I could keep you out of harm’s way. I thought I could keep it separate from my regular life. No one knew about it, sweetheart…not Foggy, not Karen, no one.” Matt said.

You said, “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That no one else knew? People care about you, Matt. You shouldn’t keep secrets from your friends, that’s why they’re your friends. Or from the person you love.”

“That’s why I came to you that night because I wanted to tell you first. I did care, I used to care about keeping everyone out of that life. I didn’t want anyone else to carry that secret but it kept getting harder to separate the two and I didn’t want to push anyone else away.” He said.

“You can only walk into a wall so many times before we start to question things, Matt.” You said.

He smirked again and replied, “Well I am blind, angel.”

One side of your mouth curled into a slight smile. Matt always knew how to get you to smile.

Over the past several months, you learned holding onto the anger and hurt you felt after Matt left wasn’t good for you, mentally or physically. You had to forgive him and let it go. You would never forget what he did but you could forgive him for it and understand why he did it.

“I am sorry, y/n. I tried to prevent you from getting hurt but I hurt you anyway.” Said Matt.

He turned and tilted his head slightly, listening intently at something only he could hear.

“What? What is it?” You asked.

“Your boyfriend is coming; I hear him talking to the host and yes he is going to ask you to marry him. I heard him on the phone yesterday telling someone about it.” Matt said, quickly.

There were so many thoughts overwhelming your brain. Obviously you still had feelings for Matt and they never truly went away to begin with. This was also the first time you had thought about Nathan since Matt sat down at your table and now he’s telling you about a proposal.

What were you going to do?

“All I ask sweetheart is that you really think about it. Shit, he’s coming. I gotta go. I love you.” Matt said as he grabbed his cane and walked away before you could respond.

“Who was that?” Asked Nathan.

You shrugged and replied. “I don’t know. But he’s blind and was asking for help back to his table.”

**********

You could never go back to that restaurant again after what you’ve experienced there.

The first time was when Matt had left you to sit alone waiting for him to show up but never did and the second time was telling Nathan that you couldn’t marry him.

Overstimulated was an understatement compared to what you were feeling and didn’t feel like walking home so you called an Uber. The ride home let you decompress a little which left you emotionally and physically drained. The stairs up to your apartment seemed to multiply with each step you took and all you wanted to do was take your shoes off and drink a glass of bourbon.

As soon as you opened the door, a gentle breeze pushed the curtains away from the windows and hit your cheeks as you dropped your keys into the bowl by the door.

You didn’t remember leaving the window open or leaving all of the lights off.

“Matty?” You called out, holding your can of pepper spray.

His unmistakable gravelly voice answered you.

“Hey sweetheart. You can put your pepper spray away.” He joked.

Matt removed the black hood from his face as you flicked on the lamp and he walked over to the couch to sit down.

“You wanna drink? Or are you ‘on duty?’” You asked.

Matt smirked in your direction.

“Can I just have a sip of yours?” He asked.

“Very funny, Matthew. I need a whole glass tonight so you either have your own or none. What’s it gonna be?” You asked in a semi-scolding tone.

He chuckled.

“Ok, then pour me one too, angel.” He said.

Hearing him call you “sweetheart” and “angel” again gave you butterflies like it always did to hear him say those words.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I said yes?” You asked.

Matt chuckled again.

“Well, if you had said yes, I don’t think you would be here…alone.” He said.

Matt always knew how to make you smile and frustrate you at the same time.

You grazed his fingers as you handed him his glass of whiskey. The same thick talented fingers he used tirelessly to work you into a frenzy, that had you begging him to fuck you until your vision went white and you couldn’t see straight.

Matt wasn’t wrong when he said that Nathan didn’t make you come as hard as he did. And what he didn’t know was that Nathan never did. Sure, he got the job done but it was never the way it was when you were with Matt.

Obviously, it wasn’t just about the sex. And it wasn’t that Nathan was a bad guy; he just wasn’t…Matt.

“Then you would be correct, counselor.” You said, taking a sip of your bourbon as you pulled your feet up into the chair you were sitting in.

Matt’s eyes were wide and you could hear the trace of desperation in his voice when he asked, “I want another chance, sweetheart. I know I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“But you did, Matt! You’ve been lying to everyone!” You shouted.

Matt pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“And what would you have me do, y/n?! I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He snapped back.

“And maybe you should let me make my own decisions, Matthew.” You replied. “Everyone seems to want to make my decisions for me! Just let me choose! I know what I want.”

“And what do you want, y/n? You want to have to look over your shoulder when you walk down the street?!” Asked Matt.

“I’ve done that my whole life! All I want is YOU!” You blurted out. “It took me a long time to try and get over you and I don’t think I could do it again. I love you, Matt. I never stopped.”

Matt’s hand gripped the glass tightly and his breathing became rapid. He licked his bottom lip, searching for the words he wanted to say but you didn’t give him the chance to say anything.

All in one motion, you set your glass on the coffee table, the amber liquid moved from one side of the glass to the other and back again, and you walked from your chair, over to him. You removed the glass from Matt’s hand, set it down on the table behind you, and crawled into his lap.

His body was a warm cradle for yours as he snaked his arms around your waist and buried his face into your chest. A long exhale escaped his mouth as his warm breath hit your bare skin and your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair.

Being in his embrace again felt like you had never been apart, his fingers danced up and down your back sending restless shivers down your spine just like they had always done, and he pressed his full lips to your throat like he had a thousand times before.

“I love you too, angel.” Said Matt, gently wrapping his fingers around your throat like a necklace.

Inching your face closer to his, you brushed his stubble with your thumbs and softly planted your lips on his as your eyes closed in relief, a blur of a smile stretched across your mouth as he continued to kiss you, and his name fell from your lips over and over again.

Matt covered your mouth with his own while gently winding strands of your hair in his fingers, his tongue stroking against yours as he told you he loved you over and over again.

There was a lot of uncertainty at the moment but the one thing you were sure of was that you loved each other and you never wanted to be without him again.

One way or another you would figure it out but tonight he was yours and all was forgiven.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @k-marzolf @hellskitchens-whore @jvanilly @she-likesorchids

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective 

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved. 

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained. 

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event. 

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded. 

“y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded. 

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily. 

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better. 

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased. 

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away. 

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname. 

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed. 

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!” 

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the  meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed. 

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed. 

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.  

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes. 

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me. 

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin? 

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her. 

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands. 

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face. 

“You’re dead”

if you would like to be on the taglist please send an ask or comment under this post. If you message me there might be a chance I don't see if and if you ask on another post such as in one of the chapters it'll be hard to keep up with.

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[raainberry]

please you write fluffs so good I WANNA AUGH JSKSKSKDN CAN I PLEASE REQUEST MORE SANA FLUFF??

What’s Yours Is Mine (?)

« silly series - 9 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - just a classic case of girlfriend stealing clothes

wordcount - 834

A/N - thank you very much anon it means a lot bc me personally i think there’s definitely room for improvement, but ask and you shall receive! a small draft i picked up, enjoy!

The way Sana ran to get to your apartment had nothing to do with you.

Well, she was excited to see you, that was a given, but she was less thrilled about the rain that suddenly started falling on her way to your apartment.

When she stepped in, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at the sight of her. That unsurprisingly earned you a glare which you quickly turned into a smile when you told her to go and grab whatever from your closet after a warm shower.

You know, just until her clothes dried out.

She took you up on that offer and came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, proudly wearing your own clothes as if they were hers.

You were busy, posted up on the kitchen island and focused on some work matter that required you looking at your laptop for way longer than anyone would like. You’d much rather be looking at your girlfriend instead, who looked absurdly cute in that one hoodie she knew you loved and haven’t let go of since your early college years.

A tired smile made its way to your lips when you allowed your eyes to take a break from the screen, granting them the soothing sight that was Sana.

“A sight for sore eyes” suddenly made all the sense in the world to you.

“What are you wearing?” You chuckled, your gaze never leaving her as she made her way over to you.

You didn’t expect to see her in that clothing item, and you wondered how it didn’t happen earlier. It was so endearing, how the sleeves were slightly too long for her arms, and how cozy she looked.

“Something comfortable.” She said, glancing at her sleeves. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” You wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer and she took it as an invite to sit on your lap. “I think I have the same one.”

She giggled at your bad joke, a proof of her love.

“You have great taste.” She booped your nose and your features scrunched up, causing your glasses to slide up with them.

You looked too adorable not to kiss at that moment, so she did just that, wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you in for a kiss or two. Her lips felt just as amazing as the last time she saw you, maybe a little sweeter.

“Are you gonna be done anytime soon?” She gestured to your laptop and you frowned, sighing.

“No. Someone messed up at work, I have to review and fix a whole program.” You pouted at her knowing you won’t be able to have her in your arms like that for a while still.

“Why are you sad, that means you’re good at your job.” She tried to cheer you up and managed to turn your lips turn into a smile again.

“I guess. But it means we won’t be able to cuddle any time soon.” You explained.

Sana shrugged, “I can just stay on your lap while you do your work.”

“I’d love that but I don’t think my legs would.” You said without much thought before the sound of your words reached your ears. Sana’s gasp complimented your widened eyes and a nervous laugh pushed itself past your lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!”

You tightened your arms around her, hugging her closer to make amends in hopes she’d find you cute enough. “I love you.” You said, looking up at her, before stealing a kiss from her cheek.

“And?” She asked, deciding not to let go of your honest mistake without teasing you at least a little bit.

“I’ll make dinner.” You proposed, but she didn’t budge.

“You were going to do that anyway.”

“I’ll let you play with my hair while I work.” You tried again, a hopeful smile on your lips.

“What so I’ll just stand for two hours?” She scoffed. “You’re so bad at bargaining.”

“Fine, then what do you want?” You sighed, only wanting her to quit the teasing.

“I keep the hoodie.” She grinned, but it wasn’t innocent.

“Sana, it’s my favorite…” You whined.

“It’s mine too.” She whined back and you chuckled despite yourself, sighing before giving it a thought.

“Am I ever going to get it back?” You asked, although you already knew how that usually goes.

“No.”

Her smile, the happiness she displayed made it hard to say that same word back to her. Honestly you wouldn’t mind seeing her wear it from now on, but only a few times. It was still your favorite hoodie.

“Can we at least share custody?” You tried to compromise and this time she was the one humming as she thought about it.

“Maybe. But I take it first.” She said a second later.

“Fine.” You gave in, taking the hand she was offering in yours and shaking it in order to close the deal.

”Pleasure doing business with you, baby.” She giggled, bringing your hand to her lips.

The soft peck she laid on top of it made the butterflies dance in your stomach, coating your cheeks in a similar shade to the one on your hoodie.

You’d never see that hoodie again by the way. At least not on yourself.

[lightlycareless]

I was on Twitter/X and saw someone mention why Naoya is popular among Japanese fans and a big reason apparently is that he speaks in a cutesy dialect that’s only used by girls. And that it’s the kind of way of speaking where girls can insult you and it’s hard to be offended. And now I can only imagine Y/N reacting to this grown man insulting her in this cute dialect 🤭

Heya anon!!!

Yessssss! I quite recently saw a Tiktok talking about that and thought it was really unexpected, but cute at the same time? Ironic for sure too… guess it explains how he got so popular since even the author has called him a total jerk 😂

Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Kansai dialect, nor think there’s an equivalent to it in English, so I’m guiding myself with how it was translated in the manga, and perhaps my delusions too 😏 in order to write the following.

warnings: none.

The first time you notice his peculiar way of speaking would be when you met him many, many years ago, in jujutsu high. Everything about him was highly enthralling, from his appearance to his background, but when he opened his mouth…

Your curiosity ramped up to even higher levels, longing to know everything about him, as well as see the extent of his “cutesy” talk.

And boy, does it not disappoint.

It would happen unexpectedly one day. Let’s say that after a bunch boring classes you eventually grew very hungry and tired. So, after deciding you were long overdue for a break (and because you hadn’t prepared anything beforehand) you head over to the cafeteria to get something to eat and rest.

… a big mistake, because soon after you finish eating, you begin to feel sick, stomach twisting and churning, to the point you don’t think yourself capable of continuing with the rest of your classes.

Naoya is amongst the few that (vividly) notices your extended absence, and while he will never admit it out loud, he was worried that something bad happened to you, thus, he roamed across the school grounds in hopes of finding you.

When he does, you’re sitting by one of the benches, tightly holding onto your stomach as you debate whether to die there or die on the way to the infirmary.

“What’s wrong with you?” Naoya bluntly asks.

“I…. I think I ate something spoiled.” You whimper, barely able to look him in the eye.

“Does your tummy hurt or something?”

“Yes, it’s awful, it’s like I’m being—my what?” you blink—did you hear that right?

“Your tummy.” He repeats, oblivious to your reaction, far more preoccupied with your health. “Does it hurt?”

“My… tummy…?” A smile begins to part your lips, and suddenly, your pain is all but forgotten. “Did you say tummy??”

“I… I did….?” Naoya says, flustered and unsure whether this is something good or not to admit.

He soon finds the answer.

“How adorable!!” you gush, and by now, Naoya is red as a tomato—because he clearly doesn’t want to be seen as adorable by his crush!

“I said stomach!! I meant to say stomach!!” He rushes to defend himself, but it’s too late now, he’s already admitted to the crime.

“Noooo, you said tummy!!” you continue to jest. “My thummy wurts vewy, vewy, bad Naoya-kun…”

“Ugh, you can die out here for all I care…”

“No, wait Naoya!” you gasp, quickly standing up and reaching for me. “Can you at least accompany me to the infirmary? I’ll forget about this, I swear!”

Of course, you don’t let this go so easily, in fact, when the two start dating you continue teasing him about it—but you just couldn’t help it!! It just comes to him so naturally, you had to bring it up anytime you could, you know?

“Why are you upset? Did daddy get mad at you again?” you ask.

“Yes! That old man can’t keep himself out of my—wait, no—don’t call him daddy!” Naoya stammers, you giggle. He’s not ignorant to the times he’s condescendingly referred to Naobito with a that “nickname”, yet it didn’t mean he’d like to hear you calling him that as well!

“Why? Do you prefer I’d call you daddy?”

His breath hitches, something igniting inside him.

“…Not here.”

“Ok” you smile. “I won’t call you daddy, then, daddy. Wouldn’t want you to get angry at me.”

“… keep instigating me, princess, and I won’t reward you later tonight.”

I think the more you delve into this aspect of his, the more you find it adorable, to the point where you find his words a bit less serious; however, you’d eventually grow accustomed to it, and maybe even adopted some mannerisms of your own 🤭

I know you were referring to Naoya insulting Y/N but honestly I have no idea how it would be... I'm as dry as dry can get when it comes to it :'( but I still hope you were able to enjoy this small scenario! Gotta say, watching him say daddy in the manga was unexpected, but got me thinking what other things he'd say in that way, you know?

ironically, I think he might be the best when talking to children because of that—when he's not being his tsundere/rude self.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I can't wait to hear how his voice sounds when it's finally animated, I hope they're able to keep his dialect and see what the fuss is all about 🤭😂

Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

[seastarblue]

OC in 15!

thanks for the tag, @the-scaredy-crow !

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I’d have done Harper but I don’t think I’ve written enough of him yet… so you get ✨Kaiden✨

———

“We’ve got work to do, stupid. Now let’s get going.”

‘I—we— need to be focused,’ she thought, ‘and that doesn’t involve partaking in festivities—wait a damn minute.’

‘Well it seems like I’ll have to change that,’ she thought, picking up a stray flyer. Making her way down and across the crowded street—‘staying in position be damned at this point,’…

“…”

“Probably. But maybe they’re savoring the moment. You know, before they chop us up and sell our parts on the black market?”

“I said—keep going!”

“Mhm. It’ll be fine. Call Captain, yeah? Tell her we—“

“…don’t talk with your mouth open, stupid.”

“[That’s not true.] If it were, I wouldn't have to be so discreet about it, yeah? And on top of that—“ she went back to her book “—I don't care. It's not the case now, and it won't be anytime soon."

“You are blessed, silly, if we're going off the fact we have each other. Did you forget who saves your ass every day? Me, that's who. That’s a blessing in and of itself.”

“‘No need’, Captain? Despite the fact that we’re in hostile territory, alone, and surrounded by deadly creatures able to tear us to shreds? I think I've earned the right to be as serious as I want to be, thank you.”

“I… I’m fine. I’m fine”

“…A good sandwich. I’ll do that [leave you, an outlaw, alone] for a good sandwich.” *pause* “Any food, really, bounty hunting isn’t a stable enough job for me to care about ‘justice’ at this point.”

———

this was fun hehe

tag game list! Lemme know if you want on or off!

@sableglass @dioles-writes

@ash-thedrawer @allaboutmagic

@paeliae-occasionally @astor-and-the-endless-ink

@vsnotresponding@nightlylaments

@glbettwrites @thebookishkiwi

@verdant-mainframe @threedaysgross @fifis-corner @bamber344

and ✨open tag✨

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 16: Crossing Paths - Episode 1: The Final Baton Pass

Luciano: “Angelo’s a fine choice. Having a stingy partner is a pain in the ass.”

Lansky: “You’ll be fine as long as you don’t get stuck with a stubborn womanizer.”

Luciano: “Ahh? Who are you talkin’ about?”

Lansky: “No one in particular.”

Luciano: “You’re soundin’ awfully specific if you ask me.”

-

Tsumugi: …

Tsumugi: (This is the performance the Autumn Troupe has put on after receiving the baton from the Spring Troupe and Summer Troupe…)

Tsumugi: (I can feel their determination to surpass the passion of the troupes before them. It’s making my heart pound.)

Tsumugi: (This is the flaming hot baton we’re receiving from the Autumn Troupe.)

Tsumugi: (As the anchor, we will carry the baton they carried from the Spring and Summer troupes to the finish line, the best we can.)

Tsumugi: (This is our– the Winter Troupe’s duty.)

Tsumugi: (We have to– no, we want to surpass this performance that the Autumn Troupe put on as a result of breaking out of their shells. We also have to go one step further than the plays we’ve been putting on as the Winter Troupe so far…)

-

[Door knocking]

Tsuzuru: Tsukioka-san, is now a good time?

Tsumugi: Yeah, come in.

-

[Door opening]

Tsumugi: Is something wrong?

Tsuzuru: It’s about time for me to come up with a plot for the Winter Troupe’s play, so I’m going around to ask if you guys have any ideas.

Tsumugi: Unlike the other troupes, our debut performance seems like it’s a little harder to come up with a sequel to.

Tsuzuru: Right. I can’t just write about what happens after that ending… But I suppose there are lots of ways to go about it.

Tsumugi: There’s been a time when I wondered what would happen if Michael was reincarnated as a human.

Tsumugi: He’d reunite with Raphael, and I think it’d be nice if the two exchanged letters.

Tsuzuru: A reunion between Michael and Raphael… The way they were separated was pretty sad.

Tsuzuru: I think I can do something with that idea. I’ll go give it some more thought.

Tsuzuru: If you’ve got any other requests, feel free to tell me anytime.

Tsuzuru: Though, killing the actor called Tsumugi Tsukioka will be a bit difficult this time around.

Tsumugi: Haha, that’s true.

Tsumugi: But it’s exactly because I killed myself in order to perform as Lucifer that I think that…

Tsumugi: I can now return to my origins and make use of the strengths of the actor Tsumugi Tsukioka.

Tsumugi: We also have the nomination for the New Fleur Award to take into consideration this time, so we have to make sure we’ll be able to carry the baton to the finals.

Tsuzuru: Ever since we got 11th in 3Q, MANKAI Company’s been getting more attention.

Tsuzuru: I’ve gotta do my best with the script, too.

Tsumugi: That reminds me, are you working on the script for Towa-kun’s troupe?

Tsuzuru: I haven’t gotten to it yet, but I’ve been thinkin’ it’s about time I get started…

Tsumugi: Has he not gathered enough members yet?

Tsuzuru: It’s just the three of them at the moment, and they’re looking for a fourth. Towa seems to be in a hurry to find someone.

Tsumugi: I think he’s excited to act out your script. I understand how he feels.

Tsuzuru: I’d be happy if that was the case, but it seems he’s got some other deadline in mind…

-

momo has entered the chat momo: one more member has joined! one left to reach the goal! Kar: graaats Iv: good for you shiki: congrats! good luck with finding the last one! momo: it’d be nice if one of u guys would join thoughhh Kar: nahhh Iv: u just don’t give up 

-

Kureha: …

Kureha: (I often go to watch theater plays because of my father, so it’s not like I’m not interested. And putting on my own play does sound fun.)

Kureha: (Being on stage in front of an audience sounds natural for me, and I’ve even thought about going down that path too.)

Kureha: (But…)

Kureha: …

Kureha: And the idea of meeting momo in person is a little…

Kureha’s mom: Kureha, shouldn’t you be going to your job soon?

Kureha: Ah, yeah. I’m just getting ready to go.

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INSTE POST:

Guy-N

The Autumn Troupe's sequel was fantastic. It's a performance I'd want to watch again and again. And now, it's almost the Winter Troupe's turn. I hope you will all look forward to the day we can deliver our performance to you.

NOTES:

(1) the anchor leg is the final position in a relay race, it's typically given to the fastest and/or most experienced member of the team