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gubsbuubs · 4 months

Text

Friendly Cupid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.

Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.

A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

My requests are open!

English is not my first language.

The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.

We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.

From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.

I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.

I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.

Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"

"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.

"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."

"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.

Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.

"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.

So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.

We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.

When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.

And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.

I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.

These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.

Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.

So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.

Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.

The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.

With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.

So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.

Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.

"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.

"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.

"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.

"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.

"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.

"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.

"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.

"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.

“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.

As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence—both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?

Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.

Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.

Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.

Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"

"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Saturday night came around pretty quickly.

I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.

What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.

Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.

My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.

As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."

“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.

“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.

"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.

"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.

"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."

"What? Why?"

He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.

"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

I smiled softly, reaching my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."

He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”

“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.

Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.

To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.

The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.

Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.

To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.

Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.

The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.

As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?

My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.

As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.

"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.

"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.

"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.

"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.

I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.

Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.

"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.

"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.

"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.

“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.

“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”

The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.

As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."

As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.

"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"

"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.

The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.

I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.

"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.

"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"

"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."

I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”

As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.

"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.

"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."

"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.

"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.

"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.

"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.

"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."

As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.

"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.

"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."

His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.

The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.

"Wow," Spencer whispered.

"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.

"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.

His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.

"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?

Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.

As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.

I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.

I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.

Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.

Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"

A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."

The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.

He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.

Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.

"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.

He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.

“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.

"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.

"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.

"I need you," I pleaded.

"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.

Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.

Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.

Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.

The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.

"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.

"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.

"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”

"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.

Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.

As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."

Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."

I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.

Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”

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usedpidemo · 4 months

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Plaid (Newjeans Hanni)

Hanni Pham is just about the perfect student: consistently top of the class, perennial dean’s lister, well liked among her teachers and peers, an active participant for every co-curricular and extracurricular activity, and overall just a good person to be around.

And you? You’re the exact opposite. Slow, lazy, constantly in self-isolation—always cutting classes whenever you can, struggling with just about everything. You’re surprised you��re still even attending this university as is, despite the countless talks with your professors.

Which is why when she greets you a good morning as soon as you run into each other in the hallway, the books you’ve been carrying crumble like Jenga blocks.

She immediately jumps into action, picking up your dropped books in record fashion to hand them back to you. The cute, irresistible smile etched on her lips is icing on the cake.

“Here you go!”

Admittedly, you feel some type of way about Hanni. It’s conflicting, constantly changing. A little bit of jealousy because she’s the student you wished you were, but also a bit of allure because of how surprisingly attractive she is. You’ve never felt any kind of attraction towards anyone in college besides her. And she turns out to be an exchange student, and you’ve never seen anyone with the combination of cuteness and beauty before she came along.

You take a moment to look into her eyes. Those gentle, warm irises perfectly capture the kindness emanating from her—God, why is she so damn irresistible. It isn’t that you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder, but you’re merely apathetic and neutral with her. Outside of the same brief rote exchanges—good morning, what’s your lunch, what are you doing after class later—you and Hanni have been, for the most part, worlds apart.

The universe is doing its part to bring you two together, because you can feel it. Tension so thin, you can cut it with a knife.

She never lets up.

She wants to know you.

“I-uh, thanks,” you say, suddenly averting her gaze to your locker instead as you snatch your books back, then in the other direction. Anywhere but her eyes.

Fuck. She keeps staring, leaning her head forward with a lively smile, her hands behind her back, waiting for you to continue. She talks with childlike passion and energy, “We have an exam in accounting later, did you study for it?”

“N-no,” you say, almost stuttering through the simplest of responses, as though your tongue is wrapped up in itself. It should be embarrassing for you to act this awkwardly in front of a sweet girl like Hanni. Mentally punching yourself to be better. It never happens. “Not exactly, I kinda forgot.”

More like you willingly neglected your studies for a nightlong gaming session. It’s an addiction.

Her eyes widen with amusement, as if she sees through the lie. Does she? You don’t know. Maybe she does. There’s so many layers to her that you never bothered to uncover. That’s the price for your negligence and decision to be a lone-wolf.

Hanni reaches her hand into the pocket of her dress shirt and presents a folded up sheet of paper. “Then this with you. Just make sure to hide it underneath the test paper, got it?”

From bewilderment to amazement—your face goes through every emotion, unsure of what would perfectly suit the situation. She doesn’t know you well enough to casually entrust you with a cheat sheet, yet she’s perfectly fine handing it to you over her presumed friends, which includes members of the student council.

Initially, you hesitate, but she’s steadfast in her position, as if you receiving this paper is doing her a favor. You ultimately fold and accept it from her. She grins as you tuck the sheet away in your coat.

“See you later!” she says, before walking past you to her next class. You slowly turn around, watch her leave and rejoin with her friends, one of whom is the student council head. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, you put the strange encounter aside and get moving again.

—————

The next time you see Hanni again is during world history class, right before lunch. Your rather senile professor, who doesn’t give a shit that half the class is either fast asleep, on the verge of, or doing everything else apart from listening to his monotonous lecture, drones on about Napoleon’s European conquest for the second week in a row. Even the patient student that you are, you’ve grown tiresome of it, especially with the dreadful pacing. You’re way behind schedule. At the very least, he seems to be paid well, so there’s a little silver lining.

Looking at her, you wonder if the gods were in a good mood on the day they made her. She’s as enthusiastic about the topic as if it's her first time hearing it. Listening to every single word intently, taking down notes furiously, taking pictures of the presentation even though she has it projected on her laptop because why the fuck not—she was born to be the teacher’s pet. Compare that to half of the class: even the supposed top student in the class is barely struggling to stay awake, clinging to the edges of her seat out of fear she could collapse from sheer boredom. It’s a miracle, really, that there’s at least one student showing this much interest.

The notion creeps up in your mind: Hanni’s right over there, without a care except for the lecture at hand. Your phone rests on the edge of your chair. Her smile, her shine—you want to keep more than just a mental image of her. Something to actively remind you that someone like her exists. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t matter when no one’s looking, especially not her. Only you.

Little by little your hand crawls toward the phone. Then the moral compass inside you resists. You don’t know this girl—not in the slightest. Just because of a simple kind act doesn’t mean you’re completely smitten over her. Most importantly, you remember one important point about Hanni: she’s not from here. She’s an exchange student with a one year contract set to expire in—wait for it—two weeks. The semester ends before then, and it’s reasonable to assume she’ll be gone from your life just as quickly as she entered it once the page turns.

Right as the inner conflict inside your head reaches a fever pitch, the bell rings. On one side, you’re celebrating this moral victory; on the other, you’re punching a mental wall for not pulling the trigger. Before the professor even realizes the alarm already sounded off, all the students have filed out of the room in quick succession.

You briefly consider searching for Hanni in the sea of students making their way around the halls, but seeing that she’s disappeared into the crowd, you decide to let her go. Perhaps the logical side of your brain might be telling you the truth: that she will be a mere afterthought to you after today.

But then there’s the unshakeable, unceasing part of you that refuses to give in. Even as you eat lunch at the corner of the cafeteria, you’re still trying to single out Hanni to no avail. A hopeless situation gradually growing worse with each passing hour.

A not so subtle tap on your shoulder. Look to your side and there’s your angel, appearing at your hour of need. Hanni.

“Hey! Still have the cheat sheet I gave you earlier?” she asks. A few meters behind her is the student council president, Minji, and her secretary, Danielle, engaged in their own conversation, presumably accompanying their friend.

You scramble to find the folded piece of paper somewhere in your bag, forgetting that you’ve tucked the sheet away deep in your coat. Panicked, you jump from your seat to search within your clothes, still unable to detect its tiny presence hiding in your jacket. “Shit—”

“I can give you another copy if you lost it—”

“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!” you interject, tonally desperate, repeatedly swiping your fingers on the same pockets with no success.

Eventually, you frisk the deepest pockets of your coat, feeling something rough on the edge of your fingertips. Reeling it out, you present a folded piece of paper in front of her. It should be a small win, but it’s an embarrassing loss, especially right in front of Hanni.

“Good to know you still have it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. You’re certain she was trying to suppress her chuckle the entire time, and based on her toothy smile, it’s not very difficult to jump to that conclusion. “Even if you didn’t lose it, I still would have given you another copy if you wanted it.”

“Hanni.” You turn to face her, a complete juxtaposition from her jolly, outgoing personality. Your expression looks stern in searching for answers. “Why are you like this? We barely know each other.”

Surprised by your sudden change in attitude, she takes a step back, pausing to contemplate her answer. Her usually bright demeanor gradually changes to reflect yours. Her smile remains, except it's hiding a little gloom, a little concern. “I just wanted to be kind to you. I saw you were struggling in some of the classes we shared and thought you needed some help. It’s only right to do the right thing, you know?”

In that moment, you regret showing a bit of attitude. Hand to your chest, as guilt occupies your heart and mind. “Oh.” You pause, stare back into those wanting eyes. “I-I guess you were really being kind to me, huh?”

“I don’t make fake answer sheets, let alone give them to people I dislike.” She leans forward, causing you to stagger back, bumping your thighs against the cafeteria stool. “And I like you.”

Your mouth gradually opens, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Only air and silent noises come out. You genuinely have no idea how to respond to this sudden revelation. It’s not like you’re a popular name among the student body, let alone the ladies; if anything, you were mostly a ghost, only coming into light when needed—and in most cases, when the professors would ask you questions about the topic at hand.

Blinking rapidly, you needed to do a double take. “Say that again?”

“I like you.” She repeats it for you. Twice. With increasing emphasis on those three words to drive the statement home. “I. Like. You.”

Let that sink in. You still don’t know what to say. “I—”

“We can talk about this later in the afternoon. Meet me at Room 204, okay? I’m in a rush and I just wanted to briefly check on you.” You watch her tone revert back to its beaming, bubbly self with each sentence. Before you even have an opportunity to say anything back, she rejoins her friends and walks away again, waving at you while shouting, “Remember what I told you about the cheat sheet!”

—————

Aside from accounting, where you followed Hanni’s advice down to the letter, the rest of the afternoon kept your thoughts mostly preoccupied with Hanni’s departing words. The two classes you shared with her during that period were opportunities to stare at her, watch her from a distance. Three simple words, and yet there’s layers upon layers to uncover. What did she mean when she said them? You barely interacted for most of the semester, yet she still considers you likable. During those long, painful hours of waiting, your curiosity and anticipation slowly built up.

And then, the bell rings at the top of the seventeenth hour. Time to find out.

While students file out in every direction, celebrating their regained freedom, you make your way through Room 204. Peeking from the outside, you see no one inside, not even Hanni. It looks about the same as when you left it—messy. You’re anxious, hesitant, cautious. There’s a part of you that believes she’s merely playing you in front of her friends, and that she might stand you up as a joke. And you have no reason to believe she genuinely likes you, apart from that one simple act of kindness from earlier.

For the next few minutes, in those crucial moments of waiting, all your thoughts and presumptions begin waging war inside your head. You have one foot on the door, with the other looking to go home. It’s not the first time you’ve been stood up; you can write an entire thesis report going over each terrible experience and the feeling of bitterness and pining that followed. At the very least, should push come to shove, this wouldn’t be the worst of them—not even bottom five.

So you pace back and forth in front of the designated room, look at your phone, followed by your watch. Again and again. Minutes, stretching to hours, into days, into a slow eternity. You’re starting to lose hope.

Which is why when she comes across you in the hallway, you feel like a kid finding love for the first time all over again. You’re not even trying to hide your excitement. The stunned and relieved expression etched on your lips, the growing shade of red across your face, the hitch in your arms as they reach out to her because you couldn’t believe she would follow through on her word—

And when she flashes her toothy smile, her mouth speaking words you end up missing—you just want to take her by the hand and run away with her.

She ends up calling your name. Twice, thrice, a dozen times—you’re not exactly sure, but you can definitely lose yourself to the sight of Hanni’s presence over and over. With a hand held on the door, she’s telling you to join her inside, saying she has something important to share with you. At least that’s the very gist of it.

At her request, you leave your bag on one of the vacant seats; you end up sharing the same chair. The tension is palpable. Hanni paces back and forth in front of the desk, quietly ruminating, hiding her concerned look away from your eyes. A wakeup call for you that this is a serious matter. You have a lot of unanswered questions, but seeing the gravity of the moment, you conclude that it’s better to keep them to yourself a little while longer—at least once all the heavy air has been cleared. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to make the first move.

“I just want to say,” she suddenly says, still turned away from you, long streaks of dark hair covering her eyes. What they can’t hide is the frown on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place. All the profs, all the activities, but most importantly, all the people. Including you.”

“Me?” You’re not surprised at that statement; you’ve assumed she wasn’t going to be here for the long haul, considering she’s an exchange student. What does confuse you, is how she specifically singled you out from everyone else. You barely know each other. At best, you only teamed up for two group projects, which she mostly did the carrying for. For you, the bar has been set very, very low. “How come me?”

Hanni finally faces you, using everything in her willpower not to cry. Her usually lively eyes twinkle with tears waiting to be shed, but she refuses. Not even the warmest of her smiles can hide the somber and pained expression she has looking at you. “Most of the boys here are—excuse my language—a bunch of fucking jackasses and perverts.”

Not exactly wrong; if you weren’t part of an athletics club or hanging out at bars after class, you were likely to be one of their victims. You know this because you are numb to their asshole behavior. The girls would usually retreat in a subtle manner once they knew their presence, which wasn’t difficult to pinpoint.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “You’re right. I hate their guts too—”

“But you’ve been kind to me from the moment I introduced myself, you know?” Hanni begins to walk toward you, rendering you even more frozen in place. “Even our brief good mornings meant quite a lot. It made me feel welcome.”

You didn’t really think much of it, unaware that it would have this profound of an impact in someone else’s life. And why would you—it’s a habit you’ve been taught since when you were seven. For a moment, you’d think she was being very melodramatic, as if she were practicing theater.

“And—” she pauses, takes a deep breath, “Let’s be honest; I know you like me too.”

When she drops those final words, your eyes pop. Wide. Enough to stretch through your forehead and fly up. It leaves you completely paralyzed. A whole truth bomb dropped just like that. She cusps your hands with hers; you freely allow her. Whether it's from utter shock or the desire to hold her like this for so long, you don’t know, but you definitely want to let this moment linger.

“I-I—”

You can feel her hot breath against yours, her face inching closer, your bodies almost entangling into something passionate and warm. There’s nothing stopping you both from finally bridging the gap that’s been separating you for the longest time. Hanni, the charming, popular girl that everyone either wants to be friends with or to be her, seemingly knows you like a book read from left to right. More importantly, she likes you. Tells it straight to your face.

Her arms snake around your neck, leaving you even more suffocated. No longer in her grasp, you find your hands pressed around tiny, fit waist. Her glinting eyes encourage you to let those innermost desires run wild. The suppressed thoughts you’ve been hiding slowly pull you under their influence. You shouldn’t be doing this, yet they’re right there: those sweet, puckery, inviting lips, waiting to be marked, yours and yours alone.

Instead, you end up in a tight embrace. It’s not as romantic as you envisioned. If anything, it’s bittersweet. Deep down, this is her way of saying goodbye, and you’re only realizing what this is really all about. An opportunity to bid farewell on amicable terms. It’s almost cruel that your first substantial interaction outside of school-related activities has to be like this.

You hold on to her tighter. She does the same. You’re unwilling to let go. She doesn’t want to, either.

Resting her head on your shoulder, Hanni whispers in your ear the most calming and soothing tone, “I’m going to miss you.”

You don’t believe you’ve earned the right to say those words back. So the only thing you can do is hold on to her the best you can—for dear life.

Outside, the setting sun is gradually fading away, and so does the natural light it brings. You can stay here, from dusk to dawn, comfortable in this position if she wants to.

She opens her mouth again, and she continues to hum and speak melodies in your ear. “I have one thing I want to do before saying goodbye. Can you help me?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you nod, saying, “Anything for you.”

Hanni breaks the bear hug then leads you along with her to the desk. With the other hand, she lifts it back to her waist, placing herself in a new and unexpected position: her back arched against the table, with one knee bent beside yours. Her eyes glinting with utter desire, she couldn’t be any more obvious.

Before the realization fully dawns on you, she does the unthinkable.

A simple irresistible kiss, pulling you down by the collar of your coat. Next thing you know, you have Hanni’s back crooked further against the edge of the desk, your lip-lock turning more and more passionate. Nothing overly dramatic and sentimental—only passionate love making.

She wants it. Deep down, you want it too.

“I can’t—” you mutter, drawing your breath, pulling your lips away. But not your hands. It’s in Hanni’s custody now. Your coat halfway down your arms, she sneakily tosses it aside. “Not here.”

Surprised by your sudden change of heart, she leans forward, her fingers now pulling at the hem of your sleeves. “What’s wrong?”

“I mean—look around, Hanni. We’re in a goddamn classroom.”

If only you could throw your arms around in protest to prove a point, but even that wouldn’t save you now.

“This is what I wanted from the start.” Hanni pulls you back in, her eyes hypnotic and irresistible, shining like gold. “You wanted this, too. Don’t play.”

“Hanni—”

She stops you right in your tracks with an impulsive peck on the lips. Curling them through the kiss to form a smile, she murmurs, “Don’t think, just do.”

And you do just that. Kiss her, make out with her as if your life depended on it.

Hanni’s lips taste like they’re meant for you. Sweet like honey. Divine. Heavenly. If it were possible, you’d want to choke on your own breath holding onto them for dear life. Not to mention the hums coming out of her mouth, those subdued mewls that she releases whenever you bite on her bottom lip—you can’t help but sink back in whenever you consider the thought of letting go.

There’s no reason not to; you have this pretty little thing, Hanni Pham, all to yourself. Even your body knows how rare of an opportunity this is. With one hand quietly slipping between her pencil skirt, you navigate your way to the depths of her heat without breaking the kiss. In a flash, she throws her head back, snapping her mouth wide at the new sensation. All that cool, calm expression, gone in an instant.

“Fuck—”

“God, Hanni. You’re so wet.”

She grabs your wrist—that mischievous hand newly buried in her pussy—and urges you further, “Keep doing that. That felt so good.”

And God, does everything about finger fucking her feel incredible. The satisfying squelch of her cunt as your digits press against her warmth, the continuous twisting of her features as she crumbles from the pleasure, leaving her neck exposed for your lips to newly conquer, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing all over Hanni’s body. Seeing her, this usually larger than life figure, fall under your spell pushes you even further.

Like Hanni, you’re still young; there’s only pleasure and the thrill of moving too fast and reckless. One day you’ll end up regretting this, ruminating over memories that could ultimately end you before you even started, but you’d rather take this memento than leave with nothing at all.

You’re both already past the point of no return. Hanni’s underwear hangs casually between her ankles while they’re wrapped around your waist, her neck filled with bite marks and deep shades of red that no piece of fabric can hide. Her dress shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole desperately seeking to be removed, and if that wasn’t enough, she’s made the crucial decision not to wear a bra today.

Fuck, that bulging ache in your pants is so agitating—both physically and mentally.

“Wait,” you say, suddenly turning around and locking the door quickly, letting her panties fall freely to the floor. It proves to be a little struggle when you unknowingly use your slick-coated hand over your dry one.

“Should have done that first,” she playfully chides, chuckling at you.

Returning to her with your drenched fingers pointed in the direction of her pussy, you respond, “Should have chosen anywhere but the classroom.”

“You’re saying you’d rather do this during our Christmas party?” Hanni lifts an eyebrow, taunting.

“Only if they allowed it.”

“And all those cheat sheets I handed you, all that for nothing?”

“Shut up. Didn’t need them, anyway.”

Hanni can’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. There’s no use locking that door now.

Even with the little time spent together, there’s clearly magic between you, the signs of what should have been a beautiful relationship. If only you both knew that. But now’s not the time to go over what ifs—only what’s next.

She stops you right as you ready yourself, grabbing the top button of your shirt. Using only her expressive eyes for approval, you steadily watch on till they’re completely undone. You’re left with the job of removing your undershirt and helping her toss your clothes aside. On the other hand, you’re in no rush to undress her completely; she’s a perfect mess as is with her unbuttoned uniform, her panties somewhere between your feet, and her taut nipples poking through the fabric.

And Hanni wants it that way. You’ve barely entertained the idea of running your fingers through her skirt when she interrupts your train of thought.

“You haven’t done it yet,” she says looking at your greedy, grubby hands, directing them with hers underneath her garment. “Make me cum. Please.”

As if you had any other intention. Maybe with something better, but that’s usually saved later—and for good reason.

You’re trying so hard not to curse through gritted teeth. Fuck. This. Damned. Skirt. Admittedly, it’s cute and perfectly suits Hanni; it adds to the appeal of seeing this usually meek, well behaved student asking for something more than naughty—it’s downright criminal—but you need to see what makes her really tick. Hanni’s clicking her tongue, growing more frustrated by the second than you are, anxiously waiting for you to come through. Carefully, you push a finger into her, then another, moving in delicate and systemic motion.

Then, it all clicks in perfect harmony:

She releases this pent-up moan from the depths of her chest, as though it were a heave of relief. The initial plunge from earlier makes plunging between her slick folds so much easier. You take a moment to let the satisfying sound sink in: the wet slop of her cunt as it reflexes against your fingers, unable to keep yourself from moaning with delight before you slowly draw back, then in again.

From there, everything takes care of itself.

Hanni dissolves into a whimpering mess, under the hypnotic spell of your fingers fucking her pussy in tempered, intricate strokes, effortlessly and handily. Body shaking, desk quivering under the pressure of her weight, her hands struggling to find reprieve from the overwhelming sensations thundering all over her. She can barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak. Only quick curses. Each and every word so gratifying to hear.

“Fuck—fuck—its—its—so—good—more—”

You don’t give her any breathing room. In the brief moments when you lax, with your fingers either motionless deep within her cunt or pull back, leaving marks on her inner thighs with her own slick, you’re all over her, gently fondling her and kissing her. Half her uniform’s sleeve has fallen down her shoulder, giving you more of her body for you to claim as your own. With every little touch and thing you do, you continue to set her nerves ablaze with nothing to quench her lust.

It’s no wonder she’s such a teacher’s pet; she loves to follow along without any resistance or objection. A fact proven when you lift her undershirt to expose her taut nipples, and your free hand impulsively takes them. You give her left tit a twist, and from her needy lips comes a sharp whine.

“Do it again,” she says, panting, nodding her head wildly, visibly overwhelmed. She doesn’t know what hit her, but it feels fucking amazing.

Of course, you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if she hadn’t asked. Hanni’s body, all yours for the taking. Not everyone can say they fucked the top girl in the class in the classroom of all places.

And you let your body do all the talking. No amount of words nor their depth can adequately describe the sensation of tasting and feeling her figure. First your free fingers, then your tongue—they make their mark on her chest while your other digits crawl to a lazy pace inside her cunt. Not that she minds—she’s too engrossed in the blissful sensation to remotely care. Her hands find their way around your neck and back, scratching and digging away at your skin in an attempt to pull you even closer.

It aches—but not as much as the ache in Hanni’s core. As you inch her closer to climax, you can feel her tremble, propping her head on your shoulder now as her outlet, whimpering, crying, mewling. “Almost—” she mumbles, before she’s caught up again in the sea of her own pleasure. Knowing this, the rest of your body moves like it’s second nature. Faster and deeper, you continue your endless assault on her body, until—

Suddenly, Hanni freezes up, moans over your ear as a moment of silent calm follows. In the succeeding moments, you both remain clung together as her orgasm hits. And by god, it hits her like lightning. Sharp and brutal. Fingers stuck deep in her core as she gushes, quivers all over them. It lingers, leaves you both incapacitated.

Minutes that could easily stretch into hours, stuck on a desk, basking in the afterglow of unadulterated bliss. Eventually, she lifts up her head and lets out a deep breath of relief. Her hands remain entangled with your hair as she pulls herself back. A scope down gives you a short but telling extent of the damage: copious amounts of slick dripping on the edge of the table, down to the floor. You’re a little terrified of what your fingers will look like.

Through half-lidded eyes, Hanni flashes you a smile as she slowly realizes the mess she has become. Cheeks flustered with embarrassment, she quickly pushes down her undershirt, but they can’t hide her nipples’ rigidness. You’re both grinning at each other like mischievous pranksters. Something tells you that despite everything, it’s not enough. The fire in her eyes and the confidence in her laugh says it all: she’s looking for more trouble, and one way or another, you’re gonna be her accomplice.

Before you can even utter a word, you both hear a knock on the door. Through the casted silhouette, you recognize that it’s a janitor. Spent energy be damned, you’re brought back to reality. You quickly turn to Hanni in a state of alarm, “Shit. I told you not told to do this in the classroom—”

Reaching out her hand, she replies, “It’s gonna be fine! Give me my bag and I’ll get us out of this.”

You immediately rush Hanni her bag, and while you hastily put yourself back in one piece, she grabs a pack of tissues to clear all evidence of your little escapade. In no time, you’ve somehow returned the place in nearly the same position you found it. Only one difference: her panties are left on the floor, and she hasn’t bothered to pick them up.

“Wait, your underwear—” you tell her as you pick them off the floor. She’s already on the edge of the classroom, opening up one of the windows to escape. It’s not a suicide jump; only someone with brittle bones could possibly break their legs doing the drop, and there’s really no other choice: run away with her or find yourself at the dean’s office on your first day back after the holidays.

“Keep it if you want.” Hanni shoots you a playful wink and a cheeky grin as she lifts one leg over the open window. “We don’t have much time, so unless you wanna explain yourself to the profs—”

“I’m already in trouble regardless,” you reply as you join her on the way out. You didn’t need to think about what to do. “Got eight missed phone calls from my fam. I’m fucked regardless. Might as well make the most of our time while we’re here.”

—————

A/N: Happy new year! I never thought I’d write something for NewJeans, but never say never. Hanni was easily the scene stealer for me at the Asia Artist Awards, she and the other members constantly waved at us from beginning to end, and they were killer performers! I can see why she’s so adored; she’s both talented and adorable. It’s been difficult getting back into writing after one month away, so this definitely is a feel-out attempt, but I hope it’s still good anyway. Here’s to the coming year and hopefully more to come. Thanks for reading!

P.S. I sincerely want to take this moment to apologize for my slow production. As previously mentioned, I got hit with a severe case of the flu, which kept me down for almost two weeks. Since recovering, I’ve been experiencing weird cases of brain fog, where sometimes my mind ‘isn’t there’ and it feels like my body’s been moving on autopilot. I’ve been getting healthier since then, but the so-called absentmindedness still remains. I’ve tried writing a few times since then, and it honestly feels like I’ve forgotten how to write. Hell, this fic was supposed to be out on Christmas day and I’ve struggled to put it together! It’s been very rough. I don’t wanna make promises because I’ll just end up breaking them, so I’ll just say that I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to that level I had been moving before my momentum stalled. I always want to deliver the best possible fic for you to enjoy. Thank you so much for being patient with me as always <3

#smut #kpop smut #newjeans #hanni

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repulsiveliquidation · 11 days

Text

Scars || Alexia Putellas

Summary : you finally let Alexia be intimate with you. A little detail slips your mind but she soon uncovers the truth behind your hesitation to let her love you how she wants to.

warnings : smut in the beginning but nothing too explicit. angst. mentions of self-harm and bullying.

“Mm, amor you smell so good…” Alexia moans, kissing your neck. You smile and arch your back into her, biting your lip. She leaves wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones, nipping at them slightly. You giggle and tell her to stop tickling you with her blonde brunette hair, your hands tucking the loose strands behind her ears.

You hear her take a sharp inhale of your scent and feel your core throb at the deep sigh she lets out. Your hands cradle her head as she looks up at you, eyes darting down to your lips as she licks her own.

“Used that body wash you like,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss her. She kisses back immediately and you feel her melt, large hands pulling your waist closer to her.

“So beautiful,” Alexia whispers only for you to hear, the random assortment of rings on her hands leave cold shocks on your exposed skin.

Her hands roam your build with determination as her lips nip and nibble on your chest. She pulls the tank top off you and takes a breast into your mouth, suckling gently. You shudder and moan her name unashamedly, chasing the feeling she left on your chest as she moved to the other breast. She kneaded the other and you could feel the groan in the back of her throat, strong thighs keeping yours wide open how she wanted.

The cold air in the room kept your nipple taut and hard, her fingers rolling them around as she rushed forward to kiss you.

“May I?” she asked politely, pupils dilated and full of lust.

“Please,” you beg and you see the look in her eyes darken.

But all this fun was about to be cut short.

You forgot one tiny thing.

But you couldn’t warn her before she pulled your sweats off.

“Cariño, what is all this?”

You take a split second to understand what she meant and when you finally realize it, she had seen most of it.

“No!” you yell, pulling the sweats back over your thighs and bounding for the bathroom almost tripping over yourself.

Your teenage years were not easy. Abandoned by your father and neglected by your mother, you ran away from home at age 7 hoping for a better chance at life. Two months on the streets, you were left cold and hungry, when a kind slightly elderly couple took you in. Sharon and Thomas gave you a roof over your head, hot food, and clothes; most importantly, a home.

They were both school teachers; Thomas taught PE and Sharon taught English. They were kind and gave you free reign in life.

Thomas taught you how to play football and while you were good, English was your passion. Writing came so naturally to you, Sharon was the one who suggested you write your first book. So you did. Poems came so easily to you, the words filling pages so fast, Thomas could barely keep up with buying you new ones.

Being an accomplished writer at 15 was unheard of, which gained you some local fame.

But with fame, came a price you wished you didn’t have to pay.

A local rival publishing team that had rejected your book was vengeful of the success it gained and did a little digging. They found your parents and your past, learning about your brief stint at homelessness and how you ran away from home at 7.

The headlines the next day were the topic of bullying from a group of mean kids at school. You didn’t remember their names now, years later but their words rang fresh in your mind if you allowed yourself to spiral.

Each word was one stroke of the blade over your perfect skin.

Each bloom of blood was the pain fading away.

Or so you thought.

Somehow the next day, their fresh set of insults doubled the pain. It made your chest tight, your head pound, your grades drop and your passion for writing evaporate.

“Nothing new in your notebook, peanut?” Sharon asked so sweetly, finding you sipping on tea in the sunroom. She brushed your hair back sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Nothing,” you lied. There were new things. They weren’t particularly parent-friendly.

“Tom and I are heading to a school meeting, dinner’s in the oven for you, okay?” she walks away, a knowing expression on her face. She can sense the pain like she was your own mother but kept her mouth shut.

“I love you,” she added and you looked at her, close to tears. If she could tell, she made no move to let you know she did but smiled when you said it back to her with a forced one. It broke her heart but she did not know that yours broke more.

You sat in your bathroom, hands clammy and shaking. The blade glimmered back at you like it was taunting you.

“It’ll take the pain away,” you convinced yourself, pressing the cold object over your mangled skin on your thigh.

The blood washed away but more pricked to the surface with each cut. Soon the water turned a dark red, and your head dully thudded against the glass wall, the pain fading into numbing nothingness.

The beeping of the monitors around you was what roused you. There were too many lights and lots of voices at once, but your mother’s sobs were instantly recognizable.

“Where did we go wrong, Tom?” she asked your father, “how did we not know?”

“I don’t know, Shar,” he said, sounding sad, “I don’t know.”

His next words broke you more than any bully's words could.

“I’m sorry we failed you, kiddo. Dad’s sorry.”

“You didn’t fail me, Dad. You saved me,” you mumbled, tears filling your eyes as they pulled away from one another and rushed to your bedside. Mom hugged you tight and thanked her stars you were okay while your father held your hand and kissed it over and over.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, looking teary himself.

“You saved me, both of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” you apologized but they were not hearing none of it.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us, peanut. The best.”

You don’t know when you started to build the dam in your heart but it broke the moment your parents held you in their arms. The safety of their arms was something you didn’t know you craved. But when they gave it to you, all your pain went away.

You never felt that safety from anyone else. Until you met Alexia.

You were merely a fan in the stands, dragged to a Barcelona game by your friends at work who happened to have an extra ticket to a Liga F game. She caught your eye and you hers, shy smiles and a hastily bought jersey from the stands outside got you her signature and her number written below it.

It took two coffees and a single baked good to know you were marrying this woman. She was funny, kind, loyal, inspirational, and simply devoted to you.

But most importantly, her arms were a safe haven. For you and your thoughts that still lingered to this day.

You explained every one of the scars on your legs after she had begged for you to let her into the bathroom. One thing about your relationship with Alexia was that you were sure she was too good to be true.

Part of you wanted her so badly, but the other part convinced you that she would leave the moment she saw the scars. the mangled skin from years of reopening wounds. The bumps and ridges that cheap blades from the corner store got you on a teenager’s allowance.

And when she didn’t leave, you hated that you felt her pity. This world-class football player felt bad for the girl she met in the stands at one of her games. But she didn’t. She sat with you and listened, eyes and mind solely focused on you.

“Show me your scars,” she asked.

“But why?” you answered, albeit through sobs.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

It wasn’t long before you were back in her arms again, safe and sound, ready to be fiercely loved by her for the rest of your life.

#alexia putellas #fc barca femeni #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagines #woso #woso one shot #espwnt #woso angst #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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daze4all · 1 month

Text

Honkai Star Rail Imagine: 7 days a week of Yandere! Sugar Daddy's x Darling! Reader

You never intended to be involved with 7 men. You were just trying to make a living doing odd jobs. Whatever you could take, and they just wanted to take whatever you could offer them. Even if it was just that day…although they often forgot you weren’t just theirs to hold…

Maid for Hire! Reader x Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Blade,

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

Next Set: Dan Heng, Sunday, Argenti, Jing Yuan TBA

Inspired by Seven Jung Kook) 'Seven (feat. Latto)'

Part 1: 1st Meeting, Domestic , Doting and Dating Second Part on smut to come...

Sugar Daddy 1. Dr. Ratio

Monday – Teacher! Ratio x Housekeeper/ Student! Reader

Monday starts off the week with lessons from Dr Ratio in return for chores and reward for being such a good student …

Domestic Life with Ratio hired as Housekeeper

Dr. Ratio had hired you on as housekeeper to clean his house, lab, and his library. For such a scholar his house got surprisingly messy. hH was constantly poring over scroll and forgotten tomes.

Dr Ratio was so invested in his studies that sometimes he even forgot to eat. SO it was your job to cook and prepares meal balanced on tray while he evaluated your cooking “

“Seven out ten. The taste is good, but the presentation is lacking. Try Harder next time” Ratio would say with barely a glance your way. Unknowing he was watching you over his book secretly.

Even on days that Dr. Ratio proclaimed the food you prepared was “urgh disgusting. One out of ten.” He would eat it without another complaint. Simply saying “Add more salt next time” while studying his books intently. Or “ I suppose it will do “No effort should be wasted”

Under his critique, your food did get better as did your cleaning skills as he detailed precisely how he wanted his old books preserved and cleaned carefully. It was detailed work to but satisfying when praised by Dr. Ratio for a “10 out 10”

2. Ratio Decides to Teach when he sees you Reading instead of Cleaning

You never had such an extensive education as the old novels in his library could provide. While cleaning the shelves you couldn’t help taking a peek. Soon you found yourself cross legged on floor drawn into the world of words before you knew it the duster forgotten.

Ratio stumbled upon you like this. The light hitting your face. He traced your face an open book as you ohhed and ahed at each twist and turn in the story.

He smiled wryly amused when you mouthed new words stumbling over the production. One word you messed up so badly he interrupted “It is stupendous?

Startled you snapped the book closer apologies spilling from you plushi lips “ I’ll get right back to work sir”

No Need in fact…how about you be my test subject student and Shall I teach you” Dr. Ratio had commanded and so your lessons with Dr. Ratio began.

3. Dr. Ratio Teaches You a Lesson in Attraction

Teaching was his joy and passion though he was so smart, and you could only marvel at his genius in silence when he rambled random theories to you.

Often he just wanted you as a sounding board “ A measure of what ignoramus, I may have to teach and pound sense into their brain.” he commented to you

After all, He firmly believed that “No matter how ignorant a pupil can soon be a peer once taught”

As embarrassment and desire burning through you as the very handsome man hovered over your shoulder to correct you.

“ No its like this let me show you” Dr Ratio without preamble would smoothly directed your shaking hands to write the right word. “Why are you shaking?”

His genius mind immediately deduced your attraction to him when you started behavior oddly around him.

After all, he wasn’t unaware of your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chest hip and lips with flushed blush.

After all he wasn’t unaware your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chests hip and lips with flushed blush.

He too watched you.

At first simply to observe as he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the human body similar to the bust, he wore.

It was inevitable that working in close quarters and learning each other habits that you crossed the line…as he took so much pleasure in teaching and punishing you .

Then idly while teaching or reading he would follow the lines of your face to the back of your neck sloped over your study book.

“Perhaps a carrot and stick method would be a better lesson plan” Dr. Ratio would muse as you struggled through the practice books as he settled you once on his lap. His breaths in your ear and you blushed conscious of his closeness.

Tuesday- Escort! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Aventurine

Tuesday – Aventurine

With Aventurine you were the most casual and comfortable. He was businessman and knew a steal of deal when he saw it and he had to have you for day.

A gamble for charity he raised the stakes so high and won you for a date as the highest winning bet for the night. Dates that continued every Tuesday from then on.

Flirty banter was common for you two and soon you had charmed each other. His double hued hypnotic eyes and devil may care attitude and charisma easing as you stepped off the stage “Hello, friend happy to have such a lovely lady for the evening”

His false flirty lines promised this was just another business deal and a game to him. A friend you would fuck from time to time for fun. However he kept making than that.

His tasks ranged from keeping his penthouse tidy, to being his dress up doll, to keeping him entertained.

When he was tired. A domestic day of cooking dinner and fixing his bath. Other times there would be surprise present in the houses.

Often scandalous lingerie and slips for his eyes alone to greet him. Sometimes elegant costly gowns to wear out to a business party’s as his plus one. If not it was a party dress sparkly and skintight and showing skin only he could touch.

would be perched on his knee or crushed by his side at a casino or stately business dinner .

“My Lucky charm~” Aventurine would sing to his clients as he rolled the dice for yet another winning deal flashing a smile and pressing a kiss to the pulse of your neck.

Despite his flippant and teasing nature, he promised when going to sleazy parties “Don’t worry I’ll protect you. No one will dare mess with me here”

Aventurine was almost always a night owl keeping you up for partying or for pleasure in his bedroom. Despite intimately knowing your deal as a creditor he was the most possessive and took advantage of it the most.

Wednesday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories

First Meeting with Blade: Kafka sets you guy’s Up

A good guy was too sweet for you it hurt but a bad boy was what you deserved and could turn the pain into pleasure.

It was simple with Blade. Lay back and let him break you. You did help clean up the base from time to time as a housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.

It had been like that since the first day you met him but funny enough unlike the other men he didn’t seek you out.

The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider like coat weaved a web to capture the flower and delivered you to the beast called Blade. Honesty from her initial description you though he was cat you were cat sitting at first or you might to have taken the job.

“Help me, help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison.

“What the hell is this” demanded Blade seeing you a stranger all dolled up like a a bright flower in his bedroom. Weak and fragile and sure to break if he touched it.

“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during practice and occupy yourself with more pleasurable activites, have fun. Live a little!~” Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both

Meeting his burning eyes you gulped nervously. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to squirm free.

Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it, if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him from consuming you whole during his sessions.

Side note Poly!Reader Background might be….:

-A maid for hire just looking to clean a house but get caught up with yandere men wanting her for more services that may or may not be implied on the site that she may or may not know about

Could also be Sugar Baby/Polymarous/Host/Rent a girlfriend/Housekeeper/Escort! Reader

- Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates

- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.

- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?

-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol

- Reader is a Succubus maybe and craves and needs many men’s seed for their male life Essence to live and cannot take from one too often or he dies from having too much

Inspired by the Genshin Version written by liljojo genshin sugar daddies

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imwetforyourmom · 13 days

Text

not her

pt1

warnings: swearing, suggestive, kissing/making out, established relationship, slight grinding

a/n: to the anon that requested, i’m actually so fucking sorry that I forgot. I will be splitting this request into a few parts, so I hope that it makes up for my forgetfulness 🙏🙏

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~ NEXT CHAPTER

matt pressed y/ns body against the wall, his lips furiously attacking hers. his hands glued to her hips, holding them against the wall. y/ns hands cupping his cheeks as she kissed him passionately. his hips pressed against hers, grinding his clothed boner against her stomach, seeking any sort of friction to release at least a little bit of the ache in his pants.

their kisses and hips began moving with more need, until, the bell ringing interrupted them. pulling away, y/n whispered against matts lips, “we have to attend class, baby.”

matt pulled off her with a groan, reaching into his pants to adjust his cock in his boxers, attempting to hide it without actually do anything about it, he’d just have to deal with it till class was over.

“yeah, okay” he mumbled, grabbing y/ns arm and pressing a quick kiss onto her forehead, then pulling both her and matt out of the janitors closet. glancing around the hall—only to see not a soul present. he then began walking towards his and y/ns classroom, stopping infront of the door and mumbling “okay, you go first, then ill go after, a few minutes after you. k?”

to which, y/n agreed and walked into the classroom, taking a seat in any available desk she could find.

not too long later, as matt had said he walked into the classroom aswell, taking a seat but not next to y/n, to her surprise he took a seat across the room from her.

the teacher, Mrs. Frayers took a glance at each of them, examining their appearance, both flushed and hair a slight mess, more so matts than y/ns. Mrs. Frayers scoffed and turned back around to the board, pointing to different chalked words and explaining the meaning.

a loud knock on the door was heard, a girl coming in shortly after the knock. she had long, red hair, a slim but slightly tall figure and green eyes that were dark, but had lighter green streaks. she nervously fidgeted with her backpack strap, she took in a breath before saying a meek “i’m the new student.” to the teacher, she was so nervous, yet she looked so confident. her chin held high and her posture was perfect.

Mrs. Frayers smiled at the girl, replying to her. “ah, yes! come here.” the redheaded girl moved quickly, walking to the front of the classroom, awkwardly shifting on her feet. she glanced over at the teacher, whom just looked at her, “are you going to introduce yourself?” Mrs. Frayers asked, her eyebrows raised.

the girl nodded her head, clearing her throat and looking at the students, “i’m amelia and i’m 17.” she spoke, her voice no longer quiet, but now quite loud and speaking with an assertive tone, yet she had no reason to. amelia’s eyes looked through the desks, looking for an empty one, her eyes landing on the one right next to matt, as her eyes examined matt, a sly smirk growing on her face as well as a pink blush on her cheeks. she wants him, and she was going to get him, no matter what. “well, amelia, you may go sit down now.” Mrs. Frayers said, urging her to take a seat so she could continue teaching.

amelia did as said, taking a seat next to matt, matt turned, watching amelia situate herself in the desk. slinging her backpack on the back of her chair and grabbing her books, laying them out before fixing her posture and looking ahead of her, listening intently to the teachers words. she acted as if she was goody miss two shoes, trying to peek matt’s attention by acting all innocent. she knew it would work, it always does.

y/n watched as well, specifically looking at how her boyfriend was staring so hard into some other girl, his eyes trained on her body.

during lunch, where matt had sat with y/n, nick, chris and madi all eating their lunches and chatting together, weirdly enough talking about monkeys, as chris had brought them up, talking about how funny they were. Amelia saw the group and made her way over, if she was going to get matt, she’d need to build a bond with both him and his friends first. she knew what she was doing, this wasn’t amelia’s first time and it sure as hell wouldn’t be her last.

“hi guys!” amelia’s voice interrupted the group’s conversation. “can I sit with you all?” she asked, inching closer to the table, the seat directly next to matt. the chairs weren’t too spaced, and so if she was going to sit next to him, their arms would have to touch each other, whether they liked it or not. “yeah, sure!” chris answered, his eyes glancing at the seat next to matt, then back at amelia, silently wandering why she didn’t just sit with y/n and madi, speaking of how all three were girls and they could talk about girl things together.

amelia took her seat next to matt, grabbing her bottle of water and fake struggling to open it, with a huff, she looked at matt. with puppy dog eyes she tapped his shoulder, he turned around, looking at her with a confused face “yeah?” he asked, his eyes looking at the distressed look on her face and the bottle in her hands. the skin on her finger pinker than usual and slightly rough, showing the evidence of her struggle with the bottle cap.

“can you open this for me, please?” she asked, scooting the bottle towards matt, popping her bottom lip out in a pouty way, in a convincing manner. matt took the bottle from her opening it with ease and placing it back on the table. “woah! you’re so strong” she complimented, her eyes trailing to matt’s bicep in a flirty way. “yeah, thanks.” matt smiled warmly at her, his cheeks going a slight pink from her compliment.

meanwhile, y/n sat on the other side of matt, completely given up on trying to get her boyfriends attention, his entire interaction with amelia she had been tapping his shoulder, whispering his name and even going as far as placing her hand on his thigh trying to get his attention, yet she had been ignored each time. so now, she was slumped in her chair, arms crossed over her chest as she didn’t bother to look at amelia and matt, but was forced to listen to their conversation. amelia’s voice being high-pitched and so annoying to the point y/n so badly wanted to rip her ears off and leave it at that.

1159 words.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @haunted-headset

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo imagine #mollys requests

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ravisinghs-wife · 9 months

Text

The seven + Nico and Reyna and their red flags ✼

warnings: not proofread, swearwords, lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: okay I'm sorry I didn't post for like two months, ngl I simply forgot that this blog existed😭

notes to the fic: reader is written as gn (one mention off y/n), but pls don't read Nico's part if u identify as female! :)

masterlist

Percy

he's always barefoot during spring and summer

you'll never catch him with shoes on because he things that they are "blocking the fresh air his toes need"

at least they never get that dirty because he can't survive five minutes without jumping in the sea

when he was younger sally had to force him wear shoes to school, to the parkt et cetera and he was always so angry at her after that because he hated it with all his passion

that anger quickly faded after she baked some blue cookies

after growing up he learned that he should wear shoes to school et cetera but the second he is at camp he gets rid of them

after you dressed it he delegated that he always washed them and kept them clean so there was no wrong doing it and that it's actually healthy for your feet

Annabeth

listen, I love annabeth

but she's always mansplaining

Like u could be talking about ur close family that she only met once and she‘d say something like „actually, i had the impression that…“

It’s so annoying

she doesn't even mean it mean or something

but it also could be just a conversasiation that she isn't even involved in and she'll just randomly pop up and mansplain the topic

jason

That boy doesn’t have any basic knowledge

Like he is at camp jupiter since he’s three or something

I‘m not sure if they even knew what they where teaching him

Like that boy doesn’t know algebra

You could be talking about something in history and how deeply that event infected the way society lives now and he‘d be like „what do you mean?“

And he’s serious

Everytime Percy and Leo make fun of him for not knowing something he‘ll run to you and beg you to explain it to him

Most of the time you make a bit fun of him too because a 17 year old boy who doesn’t know what the french Revolution was is kinda funny

He knows that you‘re just joking though

hazel

I love her but she's like one of the extra careful mom's whose world break when their child hears a swear word

every time you are someone near both of ou swears she has this weird shocked and impressed look and looks around the room

you had to stop swearing around her bc she always starts blushing and looks at you in awe

they don't even have to be the "bad" swear words, it could be something like shit and she'd still be shocked

you had to learn to find alternatives like fudge or fox

she made you browse for the alternatives to swear words for around two hours at midnight and made you subscribe to the mommy blogs incase they had "more cool little alternatives"

piper

she's a die hard romance book hater

she always gives you the weird look when you read one or even only look at one at the bookstore

like she doesn't even have a plausible reason besides that they "always have the same ending and are very predictable"

I mean she's right but still

when she was 14 she had an instagram where she just talked shit about romance books because she was bored

it's not even that she doesn't like reading or books that much, she just doesn't like them because they (as already said) have the same ending and because she gor sick of the perfect romantic ending after drew talked night in and out about it

you once convinced her to read your favorite romance book and she tried her best to be nice

she actually didn't find it that bad and liked the ending but she would never admit that to you

leo

that boy either doesn't shower for one week or takes two hour showers

it's a bit better in the summer but especially in winter he never shower because he "would just get dirty later again"

you have to force him too properly shower because he would just forget it again

and when he actually showers for once he takes two hour showers

but especially in summer he's just gonna swim in the lake and call it a day because he basically "got clean already"

frank

I love frank sm but he would 7 in 1 shampoo

he doesn't get why it's bad and insists that it makes his hair shinier

you try to explain it to him once but he just doesn't understand 😪

he also tries to convince you all the time that it's so much better than owning body wach, shampoo and conditioner

nico

is a pop music hater

he always has this annoyed look on his face when you play pop music

he always makes this disappointed dad sigh and says "again?"

nico sounds so disappointed

he secretly loves it about you tho

reyna

she's like a confused mom and never gets jokes

"what do you mean by that, y/n? I never do that"

you try to explain the joke to her but give up after 10 minutes

she's grumpy for the rest of the day because you wouldn't finish explaining it to her

eventually she gives her pride up and asks you again

and after another ten stressful minutes she finally gets it

she kept arguing that what you said doesn't make sense

#x reader #dating headcanons #percy jackson x reader #fanficton #masterlist #annabeth chase x reader #hazel levesque x reader #frank zhang x reader #piper mclean x reader #jason grace x reader #nico di angelo x reader #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Reyna Ramirez Arellano x reader #Reyna ramirez x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo x reader #pjo x you #red flags

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mypimpademia · 10 months

Text

— The Teacher (pt. 2)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.

TW: None

Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around

⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out

⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you

⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety

⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to

⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand

“You look incredible.”

Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.

He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.

“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.

‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.

Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.

“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.

They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.

“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”

He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.

“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”

⇶ He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in

⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything

⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt

⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned

⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful

⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him

⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?

⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers

⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now

⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests

⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work

⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up

⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it

⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of

⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much

‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’

⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud

⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless

⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it

⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name

“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”

⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left

⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time

⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject

⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card

⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours

⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru

⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru

⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you

⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again

⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s

⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up

“Did you guys go on a date?”

You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.

“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.

“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.

Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.

To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.

“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.

“Yup!”

⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself

⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek

⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house

⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you

⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question

“Hey, dad,”

He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt

“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.

Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.

“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”

He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.

“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.

“Me too, Megs.”

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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fieldofdaisiies · 6 months

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professor! Azriel x Reader

a long time ago I got an professor!Azriel x Reader request and I kind of forgot about it. I am so sorry, but thanks to a very inspirational conversation with @moonlightazriel and @brekkershadowsinger I decided to finally write this little thing hehe enjoy, hope you like it💛

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Azriel is extremely passionate when talking about his subject - Literature

you are practically bound to his lips, you can look away nor not pay attention

he has a certain way with words that just captured you

especially when he is speaking in another language, quoting poems or simple phrases

his voice alone will make your knees feel wobbly

and God, when he traces his index and middle finger over the spine or a page

during the lecture your eyes will often meet, just quick, subtle glances, that speak volumes

he loves it when you challenge him

he makes a statement - "and that’s why woman were not allowed to write back then"

just to get a reaction from you, just see your determined and vigorous side, just to see you argue and challenge him

you get extremely temperamental and Azriel loves this

of course he smirks while listening to you

when writing an essay he will help you, giving you support, providing you with literature, guiding you into the right direction

your hands will always accidentally touch, and you will steal more glances at each other while you stand next to his desk and go over your essay together

when correcting your tests or homework and you did well you will always get a little message saying "good girl, did so well on my exam, let’s see how I can reward you"

when you give a good answer in class his eyes will slide to you, and a barely there smirk will tug at his lips, the sparkle in his eyes full of sensual promises

and God forbid when you don’t show up to class - the pretty little reminder he leaves on your ass in form of his hand print will never make you stay away from class again

the more your relationship develops the more time you will spend together outside of university

he loves taking you to libraries further away so no one sees you

you love reading together and later analysing the books

sharing sweet little kisses in between while steaming hot cups of tea sit nect to you

you love rainy cosy days the most knowing you will spend them inside with him, cuddled in bed together, raindrops sliding down the windows, scented candles being lit

you will cook together, always somehow touching, hugging or sharing quick kisses

in class you will still (of course act all professional) apart from the subtle glances

he loves it when you call him sir especially when you do so in the bedroom which leads me to…

NSFW

Azriel loves bending you over his desk after class, taking his time with you, prasing and worshipping you for how well you did in class

he loves fucking you on his desk until his name rolls of your lips and bounces of all the walls in the lecture hall

sometimes he takes you atop all his books and papers just because he can’t wait any longer to be buried deep inside of you

while correcting tests, he will often keep you in his lap, his cock buried inside of you and don’t you dare move

he also loves to eat you out while you read to him either his or your favourite book

he will whisper the filthiest book quotes into your ear while making love

and you love to send him dirty texts while he is in lectures sometimes even adding a pretty little picture, knowing it will get him all flustered and aroused

also knowing you will get your payback when he gets home

#azriel x reader #my mind is in the gutter #our mind is in the gutter #azriel #acotar #acosf #azriel x you #azriel headcanons

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rainforest-daisies · 7 months

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Day 11|virginity loss

Character: Peter Parker x afab!reader

Tags: smut, virgin!peter, sub!peter, PIV,

A/n: I fully re-entered my marvel era again for like two hours while making this….

Kinktober masterlist

“Uhm- I don't really know what to do now…” his hands grasped your hips against his stiff body, a special something poking at your thigh, alerting you of the issue that had sprung up during your make-out session. His mind raced with thoughts, he had never gotten this far with a girl, let alone one of the prettiest ones he had ever met.

Your legs continued to straddle him, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as you listened to Peter's mumbled rambles, “What do you want me to do? I-i can leave if you want…I mean it's my apartment, but-” Eventually, he ran out of words, gazing into your eyes in silence. An awkward chuckle left his lips, not knowing how to continue his sentence.

“Peter, are you a virgin?” Your words hit him like a semi-truck, yet, he stuttered out an answer, shocked over your blatancy, “Y-yes- well- um- yeah. I'm a virgin.” his fingers fondled the hem of your sweater, a blush tinting his cheeks as if your words had slapped him in the face. “Can I touch you again?” your words soothed the worry in his mind, the worry that you found him lame, or weird, for being a virgin. “Yes!” he cringed at the eagerness in his voice, repeating himself with a calmer tone, “Yeah, yeah.” he shrugged, smiling at the grin formed on your face.

Your hands met his chest at the same time your lips to his, Peter's slim hands rising under the back of your shirt as he felt the soft flesh that adorned you. His face pulled away from yours, causing confusion to infiltrate your mind, but upon opening your eyes, you saw the small smile hanging from his lips again. “I'm actually about to have sex…” his posture suddenly straightened, “I mean, in like a really cool, not nervous kind of way.” a chuckle left his lips at the sarcasm, relaxing himself in your arms again.

His lips pushed against yours again, catching yourself off guard, and taking it as a moment to savor. He couldn't believe that you chose him to touch you, to please you, his mind was clouded with bewilderment, but with each passing second, the belief grew stronger in his head that this isn't a wet dream. with your exploring hands in control, his sweatpants were quick to be discarded, thrown across his wooden desk chair. His t-shirt followed suit.

Your eyes trailed down his body, admiring the lean muscles in his arms, the small freckles atop his strong abs, and the ever-growing bulge in his boxers, and back up at his face, admiring your expressions. “This is unfair. I'm almost naked and…and you're still fully clothed.” in his mind, it was a pathetic excuse to see more of you, the hormonal sex drive that had been making him go crazy was influencing his mind, but hell did it work.

His jaw seemed to be permanently slack as soon as you took your top off, figuratively, and possibly literally, drooling over the sight of your tits. “Wow. I mean, wow.” his mind was malfunctioning. he could barely form words, all the blood in his body was either rushing to his cheeks, or his bulge.

He had seen this moment in porn, read it in books that were snagged from the library, heard about it from guys talking way too loudly in the cafeteria, but in person, in front of him in real-time, he was short-circuiting. In a dazed state, his mouth pressed kisses against your chest, moving your hips against his, practically grinding you against him.

Your voice brought him back to reality, pulling away from your chest, “Say that again?” his doe eyes looked up at you as if you were a goddess. in his eyes, you were one.

“Are you ready? you're getting awfully needy.” his hand reached the back of your neck, smashing your face against his, passionately kissing you. “Shit- shit. I forgot to grab a condom. let me get up.” your body hesitantly pulls away, watching as he stumbles off his bed and across his room to his desk, rummaging through an old box, with a condom stuffed in the bottom of it. “Health class last month really paid off, huh.” looking down at the foil package, he chuckles, but when he looked back up, he had seen you discarded your pants and underwear as he was looking in the box.

Soon, his body was on top of yours, holding his figure up with one hand, holding your face with the other. “Can…I put it on you? the condom?” your words make him shudder, and nod quickly. As your hand slid against his length, unrolling the condom on him, a loud, uncontrollable moan left his parted lips.

“Wait…I read about a guy doing something once,” his hand from your face lifted to his mouth, spitting into his palm and rubbing it against your core, paying extra attention to your clit, “and apparently it's hot…so…”

Your hand gently grasped his lenth, and helped guide him inside, his face scrunched at the warmth of your cunt, a loud whimper threatening to be released any second. shit, he was close already. He had been inside of you for less than a minute, and he was already close.

It wasn't long before he could feel himself throbbing, trying to hold himself back for as long as possible, yet, when he heard the sweetest noise that had ever graced his ears come out of your mouth, he was already filling up the condom. With pants and breaths coming from his mouth, forehead rested atop yours, he pulled out with a whine of sensitivity, and his body began dragging itself down your body, pressing feather-light pecks across your skin as he did so.

“C’mere, baby. I wanna make you cum too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #x reader #smut #kinktober

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elsweetheart · 1 year

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I might be a complete slut to think about it, but imagine dealer!ellie coming in from a night when business wasn't good, and fucking you with the strap to take out her frustration

we’re all sluts here *spoken like the cheshire cat*

all circuits are busy, goodbye

🎀 weed mentions but no smoking of it, ellie is frustrated, mentions of dealing, strap on sex lol, daddy kink, ellie gets a call and answers it during, another lana title from the song dealer how ironic, brief breeding kink ?? i hate this a lot btw

“fuck, man.” ellie sighed as she pushed the door to her dorm open — brows pinched and jaw tense, backpack already slumping down by the door in its usual spot. you sat up from her bed where you were laid down reading, dressed in just an incredibly oversized shirt that she had stolen a long time ago from joel and a pair of socks having had a shower and forgot to bring more underwear. you frowned at her glum demeanour as she harshly unzipped her jacket and threw it aside — not even caring to hang it up.

“wha’s wrong?” you asked sleepily, glancing at the clock as you placed your book aside— only to see she was home much earlier than she usually would be from one of these parties.

“waste of fuckin’ time.” she leant down slightly, lifting her black backpack off the ground just a little as she looked at you pointedly. “see how heavy that is? s’not money in there— it’s all the shit i left this room with.” she threw the bag aside, walking further into the dorm and groaning, hands clasping at the back of her neck as she tipped her head back.

“m’sorry els. bad business is the worst.” you sighed.

“and fuckin’ — then — before i’ve even sold shit, i get word that the cops were outside tryna shut the party down cos’ of noise complaints — so i had to haul ass over the fence in the backyard and get the hell out of there.” she divulges, talking expressively with her hands the same way she always did when she got super passionate. you wanted to smile at this, but didn’t wanna piss her off.

“that sucks.” you pout sympathetically, not wanting to take any of the limelight as you knew she’d probably feel better once she vented.

“i blew off that other party for this one thinking those rich kids would empty their pockets but no— man, i should have hit the other one.” her voice raised a little in frustration, eyes scrunching up in stress.

“s’okay, ellie. there’s always next time.” you reassured and for the first time she actually stopped to take you in for a moment. your bare legs hung off the bed, her tshirt barely covering the necessities. you opened your arms to her and she stepped forward— angry frown still etched onto her face before she let you hug her. the hug lasted about two seconds, before she took your face in her grip and kissed you. you let out a soft moan, her usual kisses long forgotten and to be replaced with a rougher version of her — someone a little frustrated and still very much in love. she kissed you until she was a little out of breath and you could feel your arousal dampening your folds.

she pushed into you with her kiss, making you lean back until you were laying down. your hand tugged the tshirt between your legs to cover your indecency, your hips still on full display, shirt having ridden up. ellie pulled back, standing back up and gazed at you, eyes dropping to the way you covered yourself modestly. she pushed your hand away without a word, panting from the makeout session and the t-shirt dropped from your hand and landed just below your belly button, your bare pussy left on full display. your legs were a little spread from the position she’d laid you in, and you were embarrassed to feel her eyes on your wet heat.

you were sitting up on your elbows, waiting for her next move as you stared up at her with wide doe eyes as if requiring instruction. she wet her lips, hands finally sliding up your thighs as she hovered over you. “need a little something from you.” she whispered, like it was your little secret.

she leant down and kissed you, giving you limited space to reply. “anything els. can do anything.” you whispered back eagerly, between kisses gazing up at her with an expression she can only describe as eager to please.

she pushed your thigh open, head bowing to look at between your legs between kisses. “yeah? gonna let me fuck you? need to fuck you baby.” her kisses sped up, barely giving herself room to speak as you felt her hands start to roam you — touching and squeezing everywhere until you were whining into her mouth.

“mhm, take it out on me.” you whimpered and she hummed in approval. she pulled away without warning and slid two hands beneath you, flipping you to lay on your front with a quiet yelp. without skipping a beat, she pulled you by your legs and slid you towards the edge of the bed til your ass was pressed to her thighs where she stood. she gave your ass a good natured slap before stepping down to get her strap, but not before she stuffed a folded pillow beneath your hips and pressed a kiss to your back. “always my good girl.”

•

you were pretty sure the base of the strap was wrecked with your pearly cum as ellie pounded you from behind, hands pressing down on your back exactly where she needed you. the arousal that had gathered at the base of the plastic attached to ellie’s harness created to a string against your ass cheek everytime she tugged you back to the tip of her cock. “fuckin’ messy pup.” she spoke through grit teeth before groaning when you clenched, creating more tension that pushed back against her own cunt through the harness. “don’t even remember what got me so fucked up.” she breathed out a chuckle as she pulled her tshirt up, so that her sports bra was on display slightly. she tucked the tshirt beneath her chin so she had a better view of you fucking against her. “shit, m’not even nearly done with you. could keep fuckin’ you like this all night. bet you’d like that, huh?” she gave your ass a light slap to prompt a reply — which you gave her in the form of a whine.

“just wanted to be helpful, daddy.” you were so fucked out you had no idea what was coming out of your mouth and you didn’t mind, you loved being in this mindset actually — so submissive that everything else just melted away. everything was ellie.

she didn’t get to respond, because her phone loudly buzzed out it’s ringtone besides you, her phone having been briefly chucked from her pocket when she was strapping up to get out the way. “you’re fucking kidding me.” she groaned quietly, and you expected her to click decline — surprised when she shoved the phone against her ear, tucking it against her shoulder as she used two hands to continue to pull you on and off her cock. you gasped into the sheets, doing your best to stay quiet.

“what, dude. make it quick.” you could tell she was trying to sound like she had enough oxygen in her lungs to resume conversation and if you weren’t so thoroughly fucked out you’d have laughed. you wondered if he could hear the sound of your ass slapping against her thighs as she sped up her thrusts.

“fuck no, i left. is that all? because i’m real fuckin’ busy right now and i’d rather — yes, okay whatever. just don’t call this phone til’ the morning, asshole.”

she’d slapped decline and tossed the phone back on the bed and you let out a relieved moan. at the sound she pulled out and rolled you over, rushing to pull your hips back to where she needed them as she leant over you to kiss you desperately. “good girl, stayed quiet.” she noted briefly and you felt the tip push against your hole again before she was sinking back in, the both of you moaning at just how easy it was. her hand slot between the two of you to grind against your clit as she readjusted. “you deserve… fuck, wanna cum inside that pretty pussy.” she whispered, almost to herself — but the idea was enough to hurtle you closer to another orgasm.

but, you pocketed the idea for now, making mental note to google breeding straps.

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams smut #ellie williams drabble

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starrshaddow · 4 months

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university mizu x readers where mizu would drop everything or run out of her class to bring something like a book or phone that her s/o forgot will be the death of me. I mean look at mizu. The girl looks so serious all the time but when it comes to you (her s/o) she would be so dang soft.

Gentle gazes, fleeting and subtle touches, and light affectionate way of speaking. Goddd 😭😭 people would not recognize her when shes with you. Shes a whole new different person.

She smiles more, talks more, and laughs more

She's polite to other people but she's ten times more polite to you. Would pull your chair for you, fix your hair when the wind messed it up, lift up the neckline of your shirt when it pulled down too much, and carry your bag (and other stuff you're holding that day) even though it doesnt even have anything in it.

Would insist on holding your bag, she just likes helping you out. She knows you've had a rough day and how much you're studying so much and she wants you to feel that shes always with u and supporting u even in the simplest ways :D

she's not the most verbal person when it comes to saying she loves you but she shows it more than she says it!

You're spending the whole day in class? When she's free and she knows you are too (she has a copy of your sched in her phone), she'd text you to eat outside.

You're walking in the sidewalk? She holds you by the waist and makes sure you're walking beside her on her left and not beside the road.

When your holding your umbrella bcz the sun is burning your skin off, she would wrap her hand around yours and take your umbrella from you so she can hold it for you.

She'll play dumb when you're both doing something. Like maybe you know how to draw and she asks you to teach her how just so you'd hold her hand. i swear to god, you did not see the cheeky smile on her face when you held her hand and taught her how to make light markings on the paper with a pencil.

Second time (out of a lot of times) she did that is when you're playing a video game on a console. And she would repeat the same level over and over and over again just so you would be close to her and teach her over and over again how to play the game and how to use the controller. (its funny how you never noticed she's doing it on purpose, and if you did, you're probably letting it slide for the excuse of being closer to her too)

Also if you're hella stressed at school, you dont even have to tell her. She knows because you, the most talkative person there is, just stops talking and looks spaced out feels kind of scary for her. So she cheers you up by starting a convo with you. She'd bring up your hobby, favorite show, or anything she usually hears you gushing about. She likes hearing you talk about them because she feels how passionate you are about them.

But if you're really tired, she will not force you to talk. She'll just stay with you. If you want her to hold you, she would. If you want to be alone, she'll leave you alone, but you have to tell her. She's not really the best at knowing what to do when you're upset. She doesnt want to do the wrong thing and make you even more upset. But she will do other stuff for you, like make sure you've eaten that day, and maybe encourage u to take a walk outside.

But always remember that she will never force you to do something you dont want to, because she knows you'll be the same to her too :))

#mizu x reader

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fanfictionlibrary · 1 year

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Hogwarts Legacy Headcanons: How the Companions behave in an Established Relationship

Includes Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Natsai Onai, Amit Thakkar, and Poppy Sweeting.

I tried my best with the pictures, but I couldn't find one that does Amit justice. Therefore, there is no picture for his section. BUT!!! Stan Amit. He is awesome!

Edit: Thanks for all the likes, reads, comments, and rebloggs. I never expected that my post would be received this well. This means a lot to me since writing is my passion. Thank you, guys.

Sebastian Sallow

He is super protective of you. When you venture into the Forbidden Forrest, he insists on leading the way because he doesn't want you to get hurt or be surprised by enemies. No matter how often you point out that you are better at fighting than him, he will not relent. For you two, protecting each other is almost like a competition.

Sebastian: "I didn't let a single spider touch you. You could have helped me with the Inferi, though."

You: "I was busy keeping the goblins away from you. I had to disarm them, Sebastian. Otherwise, they would have attacked you with their swords, axes, and whatnot. I knew you could handle a few Inferi."

Sebastian expresses his love through physical touch. In the halls, while walking with you, he holds your hand. At dinner in the great hall, he sits next to you, legs touching. And in Potions class, you are his loyal partner. When you two are brewing a potion, he tends to whisper words of encouragement, brushing along your fingers or shoulders gently.

Sebastian: "Good girl/boy. You added the right amount of Troll Bogeys."

Against common belief, I don't think that he is the jealous type. Of course, he ensures that people who are romantically interested in you know that you are happily taken, but he is so confident in his charms that he doubts anyone comes even close to him in your book. Only when he notices that someone rivals his natural magnetism and winsome smile does he become jealous and starts sulking like a child. Then, his jealousy becomes extremely profound and unrivaled.

Sebastian: *sitting on a bench in the hallway, pouting*

You: "Sebby, darling, what is bothering you? Don't make that dreary face."

Sebastian: "Dreary!? I’m appalled! Who does that seven-year think he is that he can steal my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner?"

You: *giggling* "No one will steal me from you. *you appease him with a kiss on his forehead*

Sebastian: *smiling exuberantly for the rest of the day until Ominis is so fed up that he swears that even he could see Seb's smile*

If you both belong to Slytherin, you spend hours in the common room reading books from the forbidden section until you fall asleep. You are usually laying on his chest, head buried in Sebastian's neck, and he holds you close with an iron-hard grip. Fortunately, Ominis always wakes up early, and when he notices that Sebastian is not in his bed, he walks down to the common room to wake you both up to prevent unnecessary rumors from spreading.

If you don't belong to Slytherin, your meeting spot for late-night reading sessions is in the Undercroft, and Ominis brings all of you some breakfast from the kitchens.

Sebastian is so enchanted by you that he is convinced you are a rare kind of magic. Obviously, your ancient magic powers are great and all. But your smile and personality are an instant kill to him and equal fatality.

Ominis Gaunt

Ominis is not big on showing his affection publicly. But trust me, this young man will make sure that you know he loves you ardently. He is the romantic type. He writes you poems and love notes. Sometimes he passes his latest creations to you in class, and he is so clever about it that no teacher ever catches him.

Ominis: *scribbling notes in Transfiguration* "MC, could you pass me your book? I forgot mine."

You: "Sure."

After a while, he returns the book, and when you turn to the page he read, you find a little sheet that Ominis used to express his love for you: Your voice sounds like the waves rippling on the shore, and your skin is as smooth as a moonstone. Your hair rivals the soft grass below a willow tree, and your breath smells like the epitome of a sweet summer breeze. I may be blind, but you invigorated my other senses: smelling, tasting, hearing, and feeling. My world would be stale without you in it. Also, I think Sebastian is up to something again. You keep an eye on him, and I will strain my ears to find out what he is hiding. In utter infatuation, your Ominis <3

Ominis loves it when you describe the surroundings to him. Unfortunately, whenever something unexpected happens, for example, in class, and he hears people gasping in astonishment, he does not know immediately what is transpiring. Ominis has to rely on someone telling him exactly what happened after the event is over to grasp the entirety of a situation. Usually, he extracts the most important pieces of information by listening closely to the different sounds amidst the chaos, but he is glad that ever since you stumbled into his gloomy life, you supply him with detailed descriptions and explanations. He loves how attentive you are. He doesn't have to ask for your help. You just inform him in a non-condescending manner about that which he cannot see. You include and cherish him with all that you are. And if the two of you are walking through the grounds of Hogwarts, he inquires about the scenery. But he is not interested in how the trees, the sun, and the sky create a picturesque atmosphere, he wants to know what the view looks like to you. He is curious about your subjective opinion.

You: "The tree looks beautiful. It is a bit crooked, and if you were to compare its leaves to human hair, you would think that it is in desperate need of a haircut. Oh! To our right, Leander Prewett is showing off his broom skills to a few first-years. They are elated and impressed."

Ominis: "I hear them saying that Prewett is flying phenomenally."

You understood his implicit question perfectly. "His flying sucks, honestly. The first-years just don't know what good flying looks like."

It takes him some time, but eventually, he opens up about his trauma. He talks in detail about how he was tortured as a child and forced to use the Cruciatus Curse. He may even cry, but you hold him tight and listen to him spilling his sorrow. You don't tell him that everything is alright. Obviously, nothing is alright. The past branded a mark on his soul. In these moments, when he is at his lowest, you understand why he possesses a sarcastic personality. Sarcasm helps him to cope with his pain. All that you can and ever will tell him is that he is safe with you and that you will be there for him as long as he wants you to be.

Ominis: "I would do anything to stop this maddening darkness inside of me. No matter how high the cost. But then I remember I needn't pay any price because you light the way out of this abyssal cavern that I call my soul."

Yes, he has dramatic tendencies, but only if he expresses his genuine feelings does he become big on words. Only the ones closest to him – you, Sebastian, and Anne - get to experience that side of him. Little side note: You are a little jealous of Anne.

You spend a lot of time in the Undercroft together, and since he can't see you, he loves to let his fingers run over your face, feeling your facial features. He loves doing that and hates when he has to stop because you either have to attend classes or Sebastian barges in with a new idea that you cannot dissuade him from. It always ends with Ominis and you helping Sebastian out to make sure he doesn't get into serious trouble.

Ominis: *his thumbs brush over your bows and the bridge of your nose* "You are dazzling."

You: *your face is flushed red as his index finger traces your mouth*

Ominis: *his other hand moves to your collarbone, and from there, it wanders precariously low. *

You: *smacking his hand away* "I know you can't see, but you were about to touch my... well, you know."

Ominis: *shrugging* "It was worth a try."

You: *your mouth agape* "Wha-"

Natsai Onai

She is a very classy person regarding dating, and the most important aspect for her in a relationship is trust and respect. She abhors it when someone treats her patronizingly or disrespectfully. If you want this relationship to work, you and she have to be on eye level.

She is not a big fan of public affection. However, she does not mind it much either. She likes to hold your hand or kiss you on the cheeks. Occasionally, she holds the door open for you.

She is even more protective than Sebastian and Ominis would be in a relationship. If anyone looks at you the wrong way, her dark eyes will settle ominously and threateningly on them. The Gryffindor in her sometimes urges her to say something provoking, and if she does so, it requires you to diffuse the situation. Incidents like these are rare though, and Natsai picks her battles wisely. You don’t have anything to worry about.

*A group of students whispering and looking at you while you pass by with Natsai*

You: *ignoring them and talking in detail about how you defeated the Lord of the Coast in hopes of impressing Natsai*

Natsai: *walking up to the students and crossing her arms as she stares them down silently*

The students: *confused and scared*

Natsai: “Have you ever experienced the horrors of an angry gazelle?”

Natsai’s mother, Professor Onai, keeps a close eye on you. At some point, you contemplated dropping Divination, because whether in class or in the Great Hall, this woman watches you like a hawk. Especially after the whole ordeal with Harlow.

You: *eating breakfast in the Great Hall and looking up to the teacher's podium, only to see Natsai’s mother staring at you*

You: *turning to Natsai hastily and tapping her on the shoulder* “Natty, your mother is doing it again.”

Natsai: “Oh, don’t worry. She likes you.”

You: *breathing a sigh of relief*

Natsai: “But she said she was going to transfigure you into a toad if you were to hurt me.”

Needless to say that you and Natty spend most of your dates outside the castle in Hogsmeade, enjoying a butterbeer. Of course, the beverage tastes good, but the real reason you go to the Three Broomsticks is that you want to talk undisturbed in a secluded corner, preferably on the second floor. You talk a lot about Matabeleland and Uagadou, and Natty is glad that you are genuinely interested in her culture of origin and don’t ask questions just to be polite. Trust me, she experiences that a lot. More often than not, your talks become personal and even philosophical.

When you trust her enough, you show her the Room of Requirements. Then most of your dates take place there, away from the prying eyes of others, and she teaches you wandless magic.

Amit Thakkar

He has an absolute glow-up in the summer leading up to your seventh year at Hogwarts. Amit was cute and handsome before but… just wow! However, he is absolutely oblivious to any male or female student showing interest in him. He is too focused on studying Astronomy and Gobbledygook. Only has eyes for you anyway, his beloved star.

*You and Amit are spending time at the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars*

You: “Amit, they were definitely hitting on you earlier. Did you not notice?”

Amit: *staring into his telescope* “I only noticed you.”

He is not good at expressing his feelings. He shows his love by comparing you to stars and things that he likes, which sometimes goes horribly wrong.

Amit: *showing you his map of the night sky while you study in the library* “You remind me of the Scorpion constellation.”

You: “Oh, why is that?”

Amit: “Well, the Scorpion looks just as courageous and powerful as you when you return from your frequent excursions all muddy… and smelly…and covered in grime… barely holding on to life—”

You: “Stop it, Amit.”

Since we are already talking about your adventures outside of Hogwarts... Amit is worried sick when you don’t show up to classes because that is a clear indication that you are out in the wild, risking your life. Again. He always covers for you, though, when a teacher inquires about your absence. Unfortunately, he is bad at lying. When you return from your adventures, he is mad at you and scolds you tirelessly. Amit doesn’t even want to know what you have been up to because his poor heart cannot take hearing about the perils you found yourself in. He helps to clean the grime off your face with a handkerchief and fusses about your appearance. In these moments, he behaves like a worried parent. The handkerchief he uses has his initials stitched on it. By now, you have a whole stack of these handkerchiefs in your dorm room.

Professor Sharp: *checking the class attendance and noticing that you are missing* “Where is Mr/Ms (Your Surname)?”

Amit: *feels already guilty that he is about to lie* “Ah… ehm, Professor Sharp, I fear that they fell… ehm… yes, exactly, they fell off their broom. They are currently in the hospital wing…” *hunches his shoulders forward slightly to hide from the skeptical glances of the other students thrown his way*

Imelda: “That’s simply impossible, Amit. They are almost as good at flying as I am. I want to stress the almost, though. No one is as good as me.”

Amit: *panicking and becoming angry* “Yes, Imelda, but accidents happen to the best of us. Don’t they?”

Imelda: “They don’t happen to me.”

Amit: *his head falls on the table in frustration, but he lifts it up right away and apologizes to Professor Sharp for violating the social codex of good behavior* “My behavior was highly improper, Sir.”

You and Amit fulfill the stereotype of a goody-two-shoes falling in love with a daredevil and vice versa. You are over the moon and back for each other. Amit can’t stress enough how you are like the sun and moon. You are opposites that sought to unite your differences.

You: *making your way to Care for Magical Creatures*

Amit: *pulling you into an alcove, pressing you against the wall, and putting his finger to your mouth to prevent you from screeching*

You: “Amit! You are lucky I have a third sense for knowing when it’s you who ambushes me.”

Amit: “Right. Otherwise, I would have ended up like one of those dark wizards.” *brushes your hair out of your face* “Well, you know how stern I can be about time management. There is still some time until our next class starts.”

You: *giggling* “By Merlin, then don’t waste our precious time.”

Amit: *kisses you passionately*

Although Amit doesn’t want to be informed in detail about your perilous adventures, he does ask whether you have met any goblins that would help him with improving his pronunciation in Gobbledygook.

Amit: *holding your hand while you are sitting under a tree, gazing at the Great Lake* “Remember that you once told me about Garnuff and Biscuit?”

You: *rolling your eyes* “How could I forget? It was not easy to save Biscuit and the other Mooncalves from the poachers. I had to free the poor beasts from the cage they were being held in by using Alohomora, but somehow the lock didn’t react to the spell. It took me multiple tries until I got it right.”

Amit: “Would you mind introducing me to Garnuff? I would like to improve my Gobbledygook.”

You: *kissing him on the cheek* “Not at all.”

His parents love you, and they are already planning your wedding, although you and Amit are not thinking about that at all. Not yet, that is.

Poppy Sweeting

Poppy is very serious when it comes to relationships. She does not take them lightly and intends to show her true self to her romantic partner.

Poppy: *looking seriously at you after you confessed to her* "I like you, too. But if we are going to do this, then it is all or nothing."

Poppy grew up in a company of poachers because her parents were part of said company. Early on, she realized that the harm her parents caused the magical beasts was immoral. She has a strong sense of what is wrong and what is right. Since she could never identify with the lifestyle of her parents, she has always felt like an outsider. That is partly the case because she has a strong personality and despises the thought of altering herself just to be liked. Also, her past caused her to be more emotionally mature than her peers.

You: "Poppy, maybe you should go to Hogsmeade with the others. They invited you, after all. You might make new friends."

Poppy: "I don't want to go. I have seen how Violet McDowell and Grace Pinch-Smedly sneer at other people behind their backs. They just need someone to look down upon so they feel better. At least I have enough self-confidence to define my worth solely by my standards and virtues."

You: *sighing, knowing that she is right* "A butterbeer with Highwing in the Room of Requirement it is, then."

Once she realizes she can show her true colors around you without having to be afraid of being judged or shunned, she becomes the embodiment of THE loyal Hufflepuff. She always has your back, no matter what. Also, she is so wholesome! Together, you spend a lot of your time in your Vivarium, where she is so busy with the beasts that she sometimes forgets you are there. But you are just happy to see her smiling, uninhibited and free.

*You and Poppy are spending time in the Vivarium*

Poppy: *looking in your direction and running towards you* "Oh, you are so cute!"

You: *your ears turn red and you bashfully open your arms for a hug*

Poppy: *rushes past you*

You: *turning around confused, only to see Poppy hugging the Irondale Thief, a Niffler, who sticks out his tongue at you, smiling smugly*

Poppy does not mind public displays of affection, but kissing in front of others is as far as she would go. Make-out sessions are reserved for more private locations. Her love language is being attentive to you. She makes sure you eat enough and listens earnestly when something is weighing heavily on you.

Poppy: *seeing that you are unfocused in Charms* "Hey, what is wrong?"

You: "I have been thinking about Professor Fig lately. I miss him."

Poppy: "I see. How about we eat something after class and talk about your grief?"

You: *kissing her when Professor Hecat is not looking* "Sounds perfect."

Poppy is your little ray of sunshine, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Her grandma adores you and writes you letters, too. Occasionally, she sends you sweets or practical stuff like woolen gloves/scarves. Basically, anything that keeps you warm during the colder months.

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