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#i mean. fuck a lot of the time i refuse to leave the house because i'm too anxious to talk to *walmart employees*
nexus-nebulae · 1 year
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yearning has gotta be the worst emotion ever invented why do i gotta want things that are physically impossible for me to achieve
#this isn't even about things like species dysphoria or missing source even#this is about me having too much anxiety to Participate In Literally Anything#like i can't even send messages in a twitch stream chat it's that bad#like... i'm realizing more and more recently how severe and disabling my anxiety is#i knew it was bad before but it just suddenly decided to fuck me over forever i guess#but like- if i were to sum up every social interaction i have in the span of. let's say a week#even counting interactions that most people would overlook like with cashiers and stuff#i talk to Exactly Two People regularly#and post on here which is literally The Only Social Media I've Ever Used#and i see maybe three or four cashiers or other forms of Employee for short public interactions#and that's IT. absolutely and totally it#i don't work so i don't have coworkers to see. i never even FINISHED school so i don't have classmates either#i literally only speak to my mother and one irl friend#and i'm even anxious around them a decent amount of the time like nobody is spared from my chronic unending Fear Of People#it's just they're the few people i can manage to stamp down my anxiety just enough that i'm not completely frozen and mute#and i can actually manage to take down Some masks around them#i only talk so much on tumblr because it feels less like Talking To People or specifically being social#it's just writing down random thoughts and if someone else stumbles across them that's their problem#i mean. fuck a lot of the time i refuse to leave the house because i'm too anxious to talk to *walmart employees*#aka the people least likely to judge me in any situation. nobody judges anyone at walmart anything goes there#i mean. people sure probably Judge but. still walmart is not a place of honour and dignity
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eightstarr · 9 months
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baby — abby anderson.
summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!
notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho
୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧
"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.
You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"
"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."
"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."
Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.
She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.
The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.
It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.
When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.
She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.
You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.
The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.
Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.
"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.
But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.
"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.
"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.
Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"
"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.
You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"
Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.
You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.
If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."
You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."
The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.
"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.
"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.
"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.
"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."
Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."
You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.
"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"
Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.
Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.
You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.
It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.
She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.
Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.
Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."
Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.
You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."
Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.
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plasticferal · 4 months
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
1K notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 9 months
Text
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - han jisung x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)
wc: 5.6k
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: best friends fuckin, gender neutral pronouns used but reader is afab, jisung being stupid, minho being slay, smut warnings under the cut!
synopsis: after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.
a/n: part two of the fratboy series!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one bc bratty ji means so much to me :D
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: ji is a brat, reader is dom in this one, READER IS MEAN (JISUNG LOVES IT), face slapping, oral (reader rec), dirty talk, degradation (ji rec), pussy drunk!jisung, cum eating, slight edging (both)?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You woke up the next morning feeling incredibly satiated, for once in your life. Minho had managed to fulfill a lot of kinks that you didn’t even know you had, realistically, and you praised yourself for being so dumb to announce that you wanted to be his sex slave last night. The dominant man had given you more than enough attention, and you knew you’d want to come back for more. 
Waking up in Minho’s bed didn't feel strange, weirdly enough. He’d headed out early, and left you a little plate consisting of a tall glass of water and a snack with a note saying that he had to leave for his shift at work, and that he was sorry. You grinned at the note. He was courteous enough to do that even after fucking your brains out the night before. You’d eaten the snack - a simple assortment of fruits - and downed the water, before heading home for the day. 
After a shower and a clean outfit a lot more casual than what you’d worn the night before, you felt fresh and ready. Well, as fresh and ready as you could be considering you’d tried to phone and text your best friend multiple times since leaving the frat house and he’d literally been ignoring you.
You blinked down at your phone, seeing another text sent by you to Jisung that had simply been left on read. You’d even tried to phone him, but he’d let it go straight to the answering machine. After the third ‘this is legendary rapper J.One, spit bars after the beep’, your patience had run thin. You were confused, obviously, because what the fuck had you done to bother him so much? He was fine with you sleeping with Minho last night, and he honestly had no right to be angry about it when him and Felix had been so fucking persistent about it. Speaking of, you wondered if the resident sunshine had any idea what you’d done to the other member of your triad. 
You quickly went onto the contacts app, clicking Felix’s name that was fortunately close to the top, given your late night group FaceTimes with Jisung. He answered almost immediately. 
“Hey, angel. What’s up?”
You blanched. You hadn’t gotten this far in your plan. “Hey, Lix. I was just wondering, um… have I done something to annoy Jisung? He’s like, completely leaving me on read when I text him and he’s refusing to answer any calls.”
Felix went silent at the end of the line. “Oh, right. Yeah.”
“... What does that mean?” 
“His room is next to Minho’s, you know, and he was in bed when you fucked Minho. He woke up not too long after you put him to bed,” his deep voice was anything but comforting. “He heard everything.”
“Oh. Okay. Why is this a problem?” You three knew everything and anything about each other, and you’d literally exposed your undying lust for his older frat brother the night before. What’s the big deal? Also, given the state Jisung was in last night, you were honestly shocked he remembered hearing anything, let alone actually waking up. You’d actually thought he’d be out for the count, sleeping all day and nursing a horrific hangover after too many of his Hanji Supremes.
“Well, you know Ji. He’s insanely horny. It turned him on and now he’s terrified to look into your eyes because he’s thinking about it.”
Oh. Oh. He was thinking about you and Minho? Was it Minho he was focused on, or you? You went silent on the line, and after a few times of Felix repeating your name to get your attention, you finally answered. 
“Right. Right, yeah. That makes sense. Thanks for clearing that up, Lix,” you replied, still quiet. You weren’t too sure how to address it. “What do I do?”
Felix’s deep chuckle resounded over your tinny phone speakers. “Apart from fucking him senseless, I don’t think anything else could help him here unfortunately.”
You raised your eyebrows. Had you thought about that before, fucking your best friend? Of course you had. You were no stranger to Jisung’s sexual preferences in bed, knowing that he liked to be a brat and be treated a little meanly by someone powerful. ‘A little’ being an understatement, actually. It was something you were no stranger to, and honestly, you knew that if you ever wanted no-strings-attached sex, it would be Jisung you’d go to. No thought needed on that one. You knew Felix was probably joking, but it was making you think on the topic. Could you do it? Could you fuck your best friend?
Yeah. Yeah, you could. It had you wondering if Minho would mind, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head. You’re not together. You can have a bit of no-strings-attached sex with your friend.
You hummed, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”
“W-Wait, Y/N, I was-” You hung up the line, a determined set to your jaw. You were gonna go to that frat house and find out what the fuck had gotten up Jisung’s ass - if Felix was right, then he was going to have the time of his life. If he was wrong, then you had another situation to solve, which would be no problem. You had some weird feeling that Felix was right, though.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You arrived at the frat house, narrowing your eyes at the front door. Something about it seemed so offending to you. The fact that one of your two best friends was in there right now, wallowing in loathe and hatred for you just because he wanted you to be mean to him? You could do that. You knew that you could be a little mean. You also knew that you were making some vast assumptions. You swung open the door, not caring about knocking, and started to storm up the stairs to Jisung’s room.
“Damn, Y/N, back for more already-” You ignored Seungmin’s quip as you stormed up the stairs, and swung open Jisung’s bedroom door. It was messy, as usual, clothes strewn everywhere that were probably both dirty and clean. Random cans of pop were sitting on his desk and his skateboard was propped up against the wall, looking like it had seen better days. His bed wasn’t even made. You resisted the urge to chastise him on the mess and instead stared straight at his sitting figure, hunched over the desk staring at his laptop, his large over-ear headphones resting on his head. The music production major hadn’t even noticed you’d come in, head bobbing to the beat blasting through the headphones. He was in work mode. 
Fuck work mode. You stormed over, ripping the dark blue headphones off his head and throwing them onto the desk. He turned to you, round eyes immediately widening further and jaw dropping slightly. His cheeks had already begun to burn crimson. You felt a bit bad, sighing at his facial expression. You were becoming soft already. “Sungie, honey, what’s wrong? What did I do?”
“I-” Jisung stared at you. He was unable to form words, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie. “Nothing. I didn’t expect- why- you’re here?”
You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t too convinced that Felix was right anymore, with Jisung being a ball of nerves and anxiety in front of your very eyes. You immediately started rambling, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I’m here, because my best friend was leaving my texts on seen and wasn’t picking up my calls. Which you never do, you can’t ever shut the fuck up. You can’t blame me for thinking I’ve done something wrong here, Sungie. You didn’t seem to mind last night, and I’m sorry if I made it weird by sleeping with Minho, but-”
“N-No!” Jisung stammered out. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his joggers, before throwing his head in his hands and sighing. He looked about five seconds away from kicking out his feet and screaming. “Not done anything wrong. You haven’t, I mean. I have.”
You were no stranger to Jisung when he was like this, stumbling over words and not able to get his point across. You sat cross legged on the floor in front of him, just patiently waiting, speaking with a soft voice. “Just tell me, Sungie. Is it something we can fix?”
“Yeah. No. Yeah. Okay. Maybe. Like, so… you’re gonna think I’m a freak.”
“I always think you’re a freak, Jisung.”
Jisung scoffed, flicking your forehead. He spun on the computer chair to face you. “Shut up. Do you want to know or not?” You nodded eagerly, resting your hands on his knees. He looked at your hands as if they’d offended him, as if they’d framed him for murder or something. “I- I- Okay. Okay! Haha. Yeah. Okay, so basically, I heard you and Minho last night. Room’s next door, y’know?”
You pursed your lips. “Makes sense. Thin walls.”
“Thin walls,” Jisung agreed, nodding. He looked dazed, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in hesitation. “It’s just- you know. Minho was mean.”
“Y-Yeah.” You tried to avoid thinking of last night with Minho as if it hadn’t plagued your dreams afterwards anyway. In reality, you were getting sick of this conversation. Surely he could give you a little more here? You weren’t a mind reader.
“Yeah. He was mean. I guess it… yeah, okay, it turned me on. I wanted to be… like that,” Jisung mumbled. He was still staring at the wall, but his eyes were narrower, as if he was really focusing on something. Probably the memory of what he’d heard. “Not like Minho. I wanted to be like you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You… wanted to be like me? With Minho? That’s okay, Jisung-”
“No!” He practically screamed, jolting up off the chair. He started to pace, running his hands through his hair even more, before shaking his head. He pointed at you with an incriminating stare. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed. But I was thinking of you as Minho, and me as you. You get me?”
You almost gasped out loud. So, Felix was right. “Y-You want me to be… mean to you, Jisung?”
Jisung stopped pacing. He was almost vibrating with nerves and excitement. “I- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, but I-”
You found yourself speaking before you’d even planned on saying anything. “Did that get you all hot last night, Sungie? Did you jerk off hearing me and Minho, and wishing it was me being nasty to you?”
Jisung blinked. For a moment, you thought you’d gone too far, and his round eyes simply stared directly into your soul. You began to speak, to apologize, to say anything to diffuse the tension, but Jisung was shifting on his spot, jumping from foot to foot. He started pulling at his joggers, lithe fingers yanking the fabric every which way and- oh.
Oh. He was hard. Painfully so.
It hit you then, how much you wanted your best friend. You’d always been attracted to him, you weren’t blind, but you’d always strictly put each other in the friendzone. Maybe some friendly fun could be okay? It was convincing when he stood in front of you, all messy chestnut hair and pouty lips that begged to be kissed, maybe even bitten. He was pitching what looked like a very uncomfortable tent in his joggers, sweater paws pulling at the cotton uncomfortably. 
You let out a breath of air, staring at his bulge. If you squinted just right, you could probably see the definition of it. “… J-Ji, do you want to…?”
“God, Y/N, please.” With those words, you shot up from your seated position and pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with an almost silent thud. He gripped your shirt immediately, clenching his fingers tight around the cotton and looking as if he was going to burst out of his own skin at the anticipation. You slammed your lips together, teeth clacking and making the kiss not at all friendly but the whine Jisung let out was worth it. You could smell his cologne, something that smelled faintly of flowers but still so Jisung. 
He breathed heavily into the kiss as you pressed your tongue into his mouth, using one hand to reach up and pull on his hair softly. He whined again at this, hips just barely moving forward from the wall in an attempt to gain friction. Desperate, you mused, and the revelation didn’t shock you at all. You pressed your body further against his, pinning him against the wall covered in miscellaneous rap posters and hearing the paper crinkle behind him. You pulled away from the kiss, just letting your head stay close to his so that your wet lips were still brushing against his pouty ones to tease him. It worked - he looked like he was about to die if you didn’t kiss him again.
Tentatively, you took your hand from his hair and moved it downwards to wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides. You could feel his heartbeat, quick and heavy against your fingertips. His cheeks were flaming, bright crimson and his chest heaving underneath the thick fabric of his hoodie.
“P-Please. Please, I- Been good, I’ve not been bad, not been a bad boy-“ You huffed at his babbling, shoving your free hand down his joggers. When meeting the lack of boxers, you laughed internally. It was just so Jisung to work on music with no underwear on. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had nothing under his hoodie either. 
You tightened your fingers in a ring around the base of his length instantly, brushing past the smattering of dark hair on his pubic bone. He was thick, heavy in your hand and absolutely pulsing with need. He instantly let out a rather high pitched moan and writhed, trying to fuck into the tight ring you’d created around his cock. “You’ve not been bad, huh? Explain to me why such a good boy was jerking off to his best friends fucking last night then, Sungie.”
Jisung writhed, hands flying up to grip your shoulders. You started to jerk him off at a languid pace, taking your time and staring into his eyes. He looked like he was trying to answer, brain running a hundred miles per second but no words came out of his mouth, only incoherent babbles. You raised your eyebrows mockingly. “Good boys fucking answer when they’re asked a question.”
Jisung simply blinked at you, unabashed moans still tumbling out from his dropped jaw. His eyes were darting between your hand, still moving at a slow pace, and your eyes, soft but menacing. You tore your hand away, his fingers immediately digging into your shoulders in protest.
“N-No! No, didn’t- I didn’t mean to, was just- hnng.” He was struggling to get his words out, toes curling in his socks against the carpeted floor and his eyes watering with tears. “Please. ‘M so hard, Y/N, please. Fuckin’- make me cum, Jesus-”
“I know you’re fucking hard, obviously I can see that. It’s pathetic,” you scoffed. “Get on the bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
The doe-eyed boy nodded frantically, throwing himself onto the bed. He sat down, gripping at the hem of his sweatpants. 
“Off. Take ‘em off,” he mumbled, staring up at you with a glint in his eye. Oh, he was doing this shit deliberately, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just take them off himself? “Please?”
“Fucking brat,” you muttered. You were in disbelief, in all honesty. Your best friend was a slut. It almost made you imagine what Felix was like in bed, if he’d be good for you or if he’d be an absolute brat like Jisung, or maybe he’d want you to be good for him like Minho did. You leaned forward, gripping his cheeks between your thumb and your index finger. His cheeks squished together comically, but he was still looking at you expectantly. You almost folded when you realized. “You want me to slap you?”
“Fucking- yes,” He groaned, trying to nod frantically, your fingers preventing him from doing so. You pulled your hand back, reaching back and delivering a slap to his round cheek. He immediately reeled with the sensation, bucking his hips up into thin air. “O-Oh. Yeah. Harder, harder, hit me harder-“
“You are so fucked up,” you said, in full shock. Your eyes were wide but you tried to hide it, shaking your head and sighing. You gave him another firm slap to his cheek, the same one, making him whine. “You are so fucked up, Jisung. You like being slapped in the face?”
He looked up at you, a stupid grin on his face. His cheek was smarting red from the abuse. “You’re even more fucked up. You like slapping me-“
You pushed him down by his shoulders, yanking his joggers off with one hand and keeping your other hand on his upper body to keep him still. He immediately yanked at the fabric of his hoodie, and you sighed, releasing your grip on him for him to pull that off too.
Immediately, planes of milky skin were exposed to you, the hinting of abs underneath his skin from gym nights with Changbin making you feel like you could drool. His cock laid hard against his tummy, hard and leaking amidst the hair adorning his pubic region. He was so fucking shameless. He was getting off from you hurting him, and being mean to him, and he didn’t give a fuck about it. 
Jisung smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. He leaned up on his forearms. “Like what you see?”
“Oh my God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jisung shook his head at your words, still smiling. You rolled your eyes, pulling your t-shirt and sports bra off with ease and revealing your chest. His eyes immediately went down to the exposed skin, his smile dropping. It was your turn to smile. “Maybe if you’d have been good, I’d let you have them in your mouth. But no. You’re just fucking filthy, Jisung.”
Jisung looked up at you, chest heaving and flushed with a deep blush similar to the shocking color on his cheek. He’d started to shift around impatiently against his messy bedding. “Filthy. ‘M- Yeah. Yeah. I am. Sit on my cock now,” You narrowed your eyes at him writhing on the sheets. “Please?”
You scoffed. You wiggled your own joggers off, leaving your underwear covering your core. “You think it’s that easy? Not everyone gets as turned on as you so fucking fast. No, I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna at least try to put those lips to good use. It’s the only thing that’ll make you shut the fuck up.”
Jisung let out a squeal as you crawled up onto the bed, shuffling on your knees until your clothed core was right above his lips. He immediately latched his lips onto your clit, soaking the fabric with his spit while he sucked hard. His hands went up to your ass, gripping tightly - you allowed him to have that small success.
He was a lot more precise than you’d expected, licking over and over again at the fabric until it was sodden and practically falling off of your core. Maybe it was due to his rapper tongue. You’d been trying not to let out noises all the way through, simply letting out some pleased sighs and gasps when his tongue flicked a certain way. The fabric was restricting though, not allowing you to feel his tongue properly. 
“There you go, that’s good enough. You can move it to the side now baby,” Jisung nodded between your legs, slender fingers coming to hook into the hem of your underwear and revealing your core. You were briefly shocked he’d even listened to you. It had, admittedly, become wet all from you making out and touching his cock a little earlier, but you’d never admit it if you were to keep up this persona that he so desperately craved. He whined at tasting you properly, wide licks cleaning up the mess between your folds and making your thighs twitch at the sensation. 
He was moaning into your core, shifting his hips up as if he was chasing your hole when it wasn’t even above his cock. You heard him mumbling something in between licks and you lifted off, allowing him to speak.
“Just- Just, please, sit on my cock. Please. Look’it,” Jisung’s lips were covered in a clear sheen from your pussy, his eyes wet with tears. He looked thoroughly broken. He hadn’t even made you cum yet, you mused, but in a moment of relent you lifted yourself off of his face and turned to look at his cock. It did look pathetic, actually, laying against his tummy in a pool of dribbling precum and steadily still leaking more. His hands went to grip the sheets, trying to avoid pumping his cock. You felt for him, just a bit, because you didn’t think you had ever seen a cock that wet in your life. 
“Oh, baby, look at that,” you falsely cooed, dragging your fingers down to pick up some of the precum on his soft skin. He whined, nodding at your words. You pressed a finger into your mouth, watching Jisung stare at you intently while you hummed at the taste. It didn’t taste of much, just with a bit of a salty aftertaste. “That’s pathetic. Look at all that going to waste, huh?”
“‘S not- Can’t help it,” Jisung mumbled. You’d officially broken him, you thought. Gone was his bratty behavior and it was replaced with watering, big brown eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. “Need your pussy. It’s so wet, I know you need it too, I-“
You pressed your finger into the pool of precum again, coating your index and middle finger and pressing it into Jisung’s mouth to effectively shut him up. He moaned around your fingers, tongue swirling around the pads as if he was sucking a cock. You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head.
“Now that’s fucking filthy. Do you like tasting your own cum? That’s pathetic, Sungie,” Jisung moaned at your words, vibrating around your fingers in his mouth. He started to try to babble around your digits, making you pull your hand away from his face.
He licked his lips, panting. “Not cum. Haven’t cummed. It’s just wet ‘cause I need you to sit on it, ‘kay?” You sighed, acting disappointed.
“Hmm, I guess I could have some mercy. You gotta make me cum though, Sungie, or you’re not cumming. Does that sound okay to you?” You shimmied off your underwear, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes.
“Yeah! Yeah! I can make you cum, yep! You just gotta- it’s- sit on it, I mean, will fill you up-“ You moved again, straddling his hips and resting your hands on the hints of his abs, soft skin beneath your palms. You lowered your now naked core over his length, solid and hot in between your folds. You started grinding along his dick, and Jisung looked fit to burst. “Are you- please! I can’t take it anymore, ugh!”
You shook your head. “Fucking brat. Beg.”
“Yeah, please, fuck please! Please, please need your pussy on my cock, please. I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’ve been bad,” Jisung spoke all in one breath, leaning up on his forearms to look at you. Your teasing had now caused fat tears to actually fall from his eyes, making you feel a bit bad. Maybe you had wound him up enough. “Shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have cum to you and Minho, I know, but you- could hear you moaning and I-“
You cut him off, raising a little to grip his length and sinking down onto it in one go. You shut your eyes, clenching them tightly while you adjusted to the size that was now pulsing against your walls. He was thick. The angle made sure that he was stretching out your hole perfectly, not too much to be uncomfortable. It made you let out a pleased sigh. You hadn’t had this privilege with Minho, just sitting there and letting yourself adjust, but then you’d loved it-
Before you could begin moving, Jisung flipped you over, beginning to thrust into you frantically. You jolted at the movement, letting out a loud moan. “Jesus- Jisung!”
“S-Sorry, sorry, no- I need to, fucking hell- gotta cum,” he was fucking into you at a quick pace, babbling about how good you felt around him. He’d grabbed your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts while he just used you as his fucktoy, eyes rolling back into his head.
“Y-You filthy fucking boy, look at you. Give you a bit of pussy and you get all fucking delirious, it’s p-pathetic,” You managed to get out. Jisung let out a loud moan at that, hips faltering. “Can’t even fuck me right, can you?” 
“Yeah! I can, I can, I’ve had loads of pussy,” Jisung mumbled, shifting his hips a little bit to try and get a better angle. He was working hard to please you, and in all honesty it did feel really good, but he was clearly getting off on being told otherwise. With an extra shift of the angle inside of you, he was pounding into your g-spot, making you falter and groan out loudly. “There. There! Told you, can make- oh fuck- can make it feel good- hnnnnng!”
You could feel the slick slide of his cock into your pussy, thrusting in and out and him moaning louder as he felt it get wetter with your arousal. It was dirty, extremely messy especially as you both worked together, thrusting against each other desperately for release. You gripped his biceps, fingers digging into the muscles as moans started to fall out of your mouth unabashedly.
“Oh God, baby, my baby, gonna cum-“
“Sungie, Sungie, wait, let me…” you reached down with two fingers and started to rub against your clit, thighs twitching with pleasure. You rubbed fast and quick, merciless as you tried to reach your orgasm with your best friend. His thrusts were staccato, uneven, but you rubbing your clit made up for any lost pleasure in the change of tempo. 
You quickly felt your high fast approaching, biting up your spine with the energy of a supernova. Domming Jisung like this had turned you on beyond belief, and finally having him put some effort into fucking you - well, you knew it wouldn’t take long. Your fingers were slipping as they rubbed across your bundle of nerves, but you pressed harder into the button and let the ecstasy overtake you.
Your toes curled as you finally let go. You bit into your lip to try not to moan out too loud, but small moans and whimpers still left your mouth at the intense feeling. Jisung had surprisingly hung on to the edge, watching you intently as you came and slowing his hips to a slow grind so that he didn’t cum inside you. You let your hand fall to the side as your orgasm finally subsided, chest heaving and bottom lip bitten raw. 
Jisung pulled out, pumping his cock erratically. His breath was heavy, whines falling out as he used your cum as lubricant to let himself orgasm. “Baby, where do I..?” 
You smiled. “Can do it on my tits if you want, Sungie.”
He moaned loudly at this, shuffling up to press his cockhead between your tits. It slid around messily with yours and his combined juices, but he quickly started grinding it down against your skin. It only took one, two, three thrusts before ropes of hot cum were flooding from his tip and even landing on your chin, making you stifle a giggle. He was loud, whining and sobbing through his orgasm as if you’d just given him the best thing he’s ever received in his life. You probably had.
He rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, finishing his orgasm before slumping to your side. 
“Fuckin’ wow. That was so good, oh my God. You’re totally such a good Dom, like what the fuck!”
You huffed. He really does never shut the fuck up, does he? “Ji, maybe stop talking and get me a towel?”
“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I gotchu,” He shot you finger guns before hopping up off the bed, totally not bothered by being fully naked in front of you. He grabbed a small face towel from his drawer - it was surprisingly clean - and came over to you, wiping you delicately. You felt touched that he’d actually wiped you clean. It was Jisung, after all. It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d licked it up. He stood up afterwards, wiping his now soft cock with a clean part of the towel.
You groaned as you heard your phone chime with a new text, leaning over to grab it from the pocket of your trousers on the floor. Your heart almost stopped beating.
It was Minho. Apparently, his shift had ended, and he’d texted you with a quick ‘come to my room when you’re done’. You gasped. Jisung quickly ushered around the bed with the de facto cum towel to read your phone over your shoulder.
“Oh shit. You totally got in trouble for fucking your best friend.”
You slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Jisung!” You looked back to the text message, and typed a quick ‘sure’. You blushed, anxiety mounting in your stomach. “I hope he’s not mad.”
“Doubt he will be,” Jisung chirped, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. “Your high sex drive and thing for frat boys hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, Y/N. He knew what he was getting into by ruining that pussy-“
“Jisung, I hate you. Why did I fuck you again?”
“Because you wanted to see me cry.”
You huffed, pushing past him to put your clothes back on. Your hair was mussed up, and you knew you smelled of sex. Trying to push that thought aside, you quickly shoved your socks back on before going to make out the door. 
“Hey!” You turned around to face Jisung. He didn’t even look sheepish, standing there with his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “Got anything to say to me?”
Rolling your eyes, you gave him a quick “love you, Ji” before leaving his room. You heard him sing-song an affirmation back to you, but you were already making your way into Minho’s room, not bothering to lock the door.
He was laying on his back, dressed more comfortably after work and with his laptop propped in his lap. You tried not to die just looking at him. Minho turned to you upon entry, raising an eyebrow. “Have fun?”
You hopped from foot to foot. “Y-You’re not…?”
“Mad? Why would I be?” Minho shoved his laptop off of his lap. He sat up, stretching nonchalantly before looking at you again. “You thought I’d be mad because you fucked Jisung? Very loudly, may I add?”
“W-Well, it was… this morning, it was-“
“Intimate? I’m aware,” He stood up, stalking towards you. “I think we should get one thing straight. I don’t care who you fuck. Hell, tick all my brothers off your list if it’s what makes you happy, but you better fucking remember that pussy belongs to me.”
“I-“
“Say it.”
“My p-pussy belongs to you, Minho,” You sigh, cheeks blazing, looking at him standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side.
“Great, because I’m very aware that no one can ever make that pussy feel the way that I made it feel,” He returned to his sitting position on the bed, leaning back. “Fuck my frat brothers. I couldn’t care less. It’s me you’re coming home to at the end of the night - you did say you wanted to be my sex slave after all, right?” 
You nodded. “So, you really don’t mind?”
Minho shook his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “Like I said, babe. Tick them all off your list if you want to, but you better be sitting on my cock afterwards telling me all about it.”
Your jaw was officially dropped lower than it ever had been. Why did Minho have to be so fucking hot? You couldn’t cope. You couldn’t fucking breathe. You needed him biblically. Practically rushing towards him, you straddled his thighs easily and attached your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His hands went to your ass as if he’d been expecting it, because he probably had.
Tick them all of your list, though?
Now that sounded like fun.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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chickenlizard13 · 1 year
Text
All You’ve Done
Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)
Word Count: 12790
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Like a hint of spice
Description: Buckle up kids. This got waaaaayyy longer than I’d planned, and I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the story. I envision Ominis’s wand working like a topographical map, kind of like Toph in Avatar The Last Airbender. Anyway, mainly follows Sebastian’s quest line.
“You got a staring problem?”
You were violently ripped from your thoughts by a low angry voice. Tearing your eyes from the other side of the room, you look up at the boy glaring at you from the end of the table. Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head in challenge, eyebrows rising. “Excuse you?”
You watch his hackles rise and his scowl deepen, before letting out an irritated huff. “I asked if you have a fucking staring problem.”
You give him a once over, trying to figure out where you’d seen him before. You vaguely remember dueling him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but were struggling to produce his name. He was in Slytherin, and you were pretty sure he had an interesting reputation, but that was all you knew at the moment.
You’d met so many people in your first few days here, who could really blame you for blanking on a name? Squinting harder, you looked at the smattering of freckles across his face and wild brunette locks, hoping they’d trigger your memory. He bristled at your intense gaze, mistaking your concentration for hostility, and refused to back down.
Bringing your hand up, you repeatedly tapped the center of your forehead with your index finger, trying to summon his name to your mind. S something. Ssss-tanley. Steven. Sylis?
He’d started to fidget at your odd behavior, eyes darting questioningly to Natty as she sat beside you. Natty had seen you do this before, and laughed at Sebastian’s bewildered look, telling him to give you a moment.
“Sebastian!” You snap your fingers and point at him with a triumphant look on your face. “I’m sorry, uh, what did you want again?”
Suddenly remembering why he’d approached you in the first place, his face darkened once more. Leaning down, he gets right in your face, blocking your line of sight from your previous fixation. “You’ve been staring at Ominis for a particularly long time, and I’d like to know why.” You return his scowl and roll your eyes at his aggressive display.
“Don’t see why it’s any of your business, freckles. Can’t someone just enjoy the view in peace?” Your dismissive tone does little to dissuade him. Sebastian narrows his eyes, and doesn’t budge.
“I would think twice about messing with Ominis, if I were you. House Slytherin is not an enemy you want.” Rolling your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh and stand up, brushing past him. You ignore his irritated calls, striding towards the blonde’s table. Ominis sat hunched over, frustratedly staring at the leaves in his hands. You purposefully make a noisy approach, so as not to spook the blind boy with your presence. Stopping next to his chair, you take a breath before you speak.
“Hello.”
Ominis slowly raises his head and does his best to look in your general direction, the look of frustration staying on his face. “...Hello. Can I help you?”
You smile at the warry tone and attempt to make your voice as sincere as possible. “I noticed you’ve been staring at these leaves for quite awhile. I was wondering if you’d want some help with…whatever, it is you’re doing?”
A look of indignation crosses his features and he sticks his nose up at you. “I don’t need anything, thank you very much. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean that I’m incapable.”
Merlin’s beard, Slytherin boys were a prickly bunch. Sighing tiredly, you consider just turning around and walking away, but instead cross your arms and lean your hip against the table.
“I didn’t ask if you NEED any help. I asked you if you WANT any help. It’s fine if you don’t, but you’ve been sitting here fondling leaves for the better part of an hour. I assumed the wrinkle in your forehead would become permanent if I didn’t put you out of your misery. I see that I was mistaken” Without waiting for a response you turn to leave, only taking a few steps before he calls out to you.
“Wait.” You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow expectantly even though he can’t see it. He shuffles his feet and looks down at the floor, mumbling begrudgingly. “I have to write 5 inches on the medicinal and physical differences between Mallowsweet and Dittany for Herbology, and I’m having trouble with the physical portion. Someone was supposed to be here half an hour ago to help, but he still hasn’t shown up.”
Gazing over your shoulder, you could see the smoke coming out of Sebastian’s ears as he scowled at you. Natty hid an amused smile behind her hand, eyes darting between the both of you. Taunting him, you give him a wink and a sly smirk, resisting the urge to chuckle as you hear him curse you out from across the room.
Facing Ominis, you sit on the table and put your feet on the chair next to him. “So, Dittany grows on long stalks, ending in bright pink flowers. The leaves are smooth, and more circular, than Mallowsweet.” His attention had been drawn away, as he’d no doubt heard Sebastian’s string of expletives across the room, but swung his head in your direction as you spoke.
Grabbing a Dittany leaf, you gently take his wrist, ignoring the way he stiffens at the contact. You place the leaf in his hand, letting him feel the edges for a moment before moving on.
“Mallowsweet on the other hand, ends in a point and has small ridges along the edge. The leaves progressively become more yellow, the closer they get to the cluster of orange flowers at the top. Unlike Dittany, Mallowsweet grows in short clumps, the stalks close together.” You pick up a Mallowsweet leaf and tap the back of his other hand with your knuckle, signaling that he should turn his palm over for the second leaf. He does so willingly, and takes a second to feel both leaves simultaneously.
This whole time you’d been focused on describing the leaves as accurately as possible, and only now turned your gaze to his face. He seemed to be deep in thought, features unreadable, his eyes pointedly turned toward his hands.
He turned his face towards you and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Sebastian's untimely arrival. “And what is going on over here?”
Apparently he’d had enough of watching from afar and decided to make himself known. You rolled your eyes at him once more and hopped down from the edge of the table. “Oh, there he is, you’re late. Just a little homework help, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You could hear Sebastian grumbling about how he doesn’t wear panties as you walked away. What you didn’t see was Ominis grabbing his wand and pointing it in your direction, trying to discern any identifying features from your retreating figure.
__________________
The next few weeks flew by as you dove head first into your classes, doing your best to catch up to your fellow fifth years, as per Professor Weasley’s expectations.
You were in the middle of Potions class, finishing up your Wiggenweld brew, when Professor Sharp walked up behind you quietly. Corking the bottle, you turn and face him, silently handing him the potion with a pleased smile. He took the vial just as silently and inspected it thoroughly, examining the liquid and smelling the contents. Grunting in approval, he replaced the cork and handed it back to you. “Impressive. Wiggenweld is not an easy potion, and you’ve executed it exceptionally well.”
Your smile grows a bit as you thank him for his kind words. He gestures for you to follow him back to his desk with a slight nod of his head. The two of you make your way over, and you stop at the front, as he circles around to stand behind his chair. “Professor Weasley has asked me to give you extra assignments to help you catch up with the rest of the fifth years. I’d like you to try your hand at the Edurus potion. You can find the ingredients in my office. You may use them for today, but you will be expected to provide your own in the future. We’ll see if your Wiggenweld was actual skill, or just pure luck.”
You smile as you thank him again, making your way to his office. As you walk over, you can see Garreth Weasley lurking conspicuously by the door. There’d been many a conversation in the halls about Garreth’s failed brews, and how he often roped unsuspecting students into his schemes. Uninterested in being involved, you did your best to avoid eye contact, walking quickly to the office door. Before you could escape, he stopped you, a mischievous smile lighting up his face as he spoke your name. “Did I hear correctly that you’ve gotten permission to go into Sharp’s office?”
Groaning internally, you close your eyes before turning to face him. “Yes, Garreth. Why do you want to know?”
His eyes grew bigger as the mischief turned to giddy excitement. “That’s great! How would you like to be part of something truly spectacular? I’m working on a new potion, and there’s just one final ingredient before it’s finished!” You open your mouth to deny his request, but he continues without letting you get a word out. “What is this ingredient you may ask? A Fwooper feather! Sharp has one in his office, and it would be a great help if you could grab it for me while you're there.”
Shaking your head, you let out a large sigh before looking him in the eyes. “Garreth, I’m not stealing from Professor Sharp for you.” Garreth began waving his hands back and forth frantically, a panicked look on his face.
“No, no, no, listen. It’ll be fine! Fwooper feathers aren’t THAT valuable. He won’t even miss it! Please, do this for me? Just this once, I swear!”
You pressed your lips into a thin line as you regarded the red head. He was pouting, giving you the biggest puppy eyes you’d ever seen. It was tempting to just give in and get him the feather, if only to spare you the crocodile tears. Ultimately, you decided that you’d rather stay on Sharp’s good side, and that Garreth should really focus on actually learning to brew potions instead of his semi dangerous concoctions.
“Look, Garreth. I can appreciate your…creative vision, but I am not willing to compromise my current standing in Professor Sharp’s good graces. You’re going to have to find another way to get that Fwooper feather.” You turn to continue your way into the office and feel a hand grab your sleeve.
“Wait! I promise you won’t get in trouble! I just really need-” You gave him a stern glare and whirled on him.
“Garreth. I will not be pressured into doing something I don’t want to. I’m all for breaking some rules every now and then, but stealing from a professor I respect and want to learn from, is not something I’m willing to do at this juncture. Please, drop it.” Unprepared for your ire, Garreth took a step back in shock, before slinking away in dejection. You felt a little bad, but it was for his own good. It would serve him to be told no every once in a while.
Quickly gathering the ingredients, you start walking back to your potions table, having spent way too much class time arguing with Garreth. You passed behind Ominis sitting at his own station, still trying to perfect his Wiggenweld, when he accidently knocked his wand off the counter. It hit the floor with a small clunk, and Ominis scrunched his eyebrows together, leaning down to retrieve it.
He must have misjudged where the counter started, and was about to put his whole hand into his scalding potion pot. Before you could think, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it away from the cauldron, burning the back of your hand on the lip.
You immediately went to apologize for grabbing him so suddenly, when he ripped his wrist from your grasp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
Opening your mouth, you attempt to explain what happened. Ominis heard none of it and continued to yell, drawing the attention of the rest of the class.
“You think it’s funny to just grab someone like that?! You’ve got some fucking nerve-” You caught Sebastian stalking over out of the corner of your eye, a dark look on his face. The entire class was giving this spectacle their undivided attention, heaven forbid you had one uneventful potions class. Wanting nothing more than to finish this potion and leave, you interrupt Ominis as he accuses you of purposefully knocking his wand over.
“Ominis.” Upon hearing your voice, he clamps his mouth shut, a look of surprise and something else crossing his face. Sebastian comes to a halt next to you, teeth bared, but you ignore him and continue talking.
“You were about to put your hand into your boiling cauldron. I didn’t think that you’d particularly want to take a trip to the Hospital Wing today. I apologize for startling you.” Picking up his wand, you place it carefully onto the table, still within arms reach, but far enough that it won’t fall again. Sebastian bashfully scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, as you brushed past him. Ignoring the stares of your classmates, you quietly brewed the Edurus potion, face carefully neutral.
Upon finishing, you brought it over to Professor Sharp. He gave it the same level of scrutiny he’d given your Wiggenweld, grunting in approval when it was up to his standards. You turned to follow the other students out of the room, when you heard Professor Sharp clear his throat. “I appreciate you denying Mr. Weasley’s request earlier, not many are able to resist his particular brand of...persuasion. He would do well to focus on actual potions while he’s still a student.” Letting out an amused huff at what he meant by ‘persuasion’, you bid him goodbye, continuing on with the rest of your classes.
——————————————-
You hated that you had to ask Sebastian for help. The smug satisfaction ever present on his face as you snuck through the Restricted Section, searching for any wisps of ancient magic. He’d been needling you endlessly about what you were after, but you successfully evaded his questioning each time.
Sebastian was too busy trying to annoy an answer out of you to notice Peeves popping out of a bookshelf, threatening to tell the librarian about your late night escapades. Fearing the consequences awaiting you if you were caught, you allowed the familiar pull of ancient magic to guide your wand. A book flew off the shelf, opening on its own, hovering before you. Peeves started floating away, taunting Sebastian with your impending detention, when your wand pulsed and dragged Peeves screaming into the pages. The book snapped shut and shuddered once, before calmly putting itself back on the shelf.
The both of you blinked at the shelf silently, holding your breath, before staring blankly at each other. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask, closing it as you held up a hand, shaking your head. You turn away from him, sensing that you needed to travel deeper into the Restricted Section, knowing he couldn’t come along.
“Well, it looks like you have free reign of the Restricted Section this evening. You can poke around to your heart's content.” He looked at you quizzically as you started heading down the stairs leading deeper below the school.
“You’re going alone? Why can’t I come? What about Peeves?” You stop and give him a gentle smile over your shoulder.
“Don’t worry about Peeves. He’ll find his way out.” Probably.
You turn to face him fully on the stairs, your smile widening. “I figured you’d want a free evening to peruse the books, uninhibited. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for getting me this far. It wasn’t completely terrible.”
He gave you a wide, boyish grin. “I think I miss judged you.” He gave you a parting wave, before sneaking off to bury himself in as many illicit tomes as possible. Smiling to yourself, you continue your way downwards, excited to discover what secrets lay so far beneath Hogwarts.
—————————————
After your jaunt through the library, you discovered that you rather enjoyed Sebastian’s company. Contrary to your first impression, he actually had a working brain between those ears, and he knew how to use it. Your friendship slowly grew over the passing weeks, until finally, he sent you an owl requesting your presence in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.
Meeting him late that night, he shared with you his dearly kept secret, known only to him, Ominis, and now you. You guessed he still felt a little guilty about his behavior during your early interactions, thus offering the Undercroft in apology. The only stipulation being no one, especially Ominis, would know.
Swearing to guard his secret, you left the Undercroft, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before your morning classes.
As fate would have it, you’re immediately cornered by the last person you wanted to see.
“Hello Sebastian.” Wide eyed, you stare at Ominis, unblinking. Perhaps if you didn’t breathe, he wouldn’t notice you. Instead assuming he’d just missed Sebastian entering the Undercroft.
It would seem that luck had abandoned you, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response. “Hold on. You aren’t Sebastian at all, are you? Did you just come from the Undercroft?!”
Biting your lip, you consider your options. You could always lie, and say you stumbled upon the room by accident. You could come clean, and admit Sebastian’s guilt. You very briefly even considered just making a break for it, praying Ominis wouldn’t catch you. You had no good options, least of all one that would end with the three of you on good terms.
Ominis’s brow twitched impatiently, wand pointed directly at your chest. You supposed that the blonde boy already thought pretty poorly of you, seeing how your previous interaction ended. Why not give him one more reason?
“I…did.” You answered cautiously, unsure where you were going, letting your lips take you.
Ominis’s scowl deepened, a haughty sneer placing itself on his lips. “Sebastian showed you didn’t he? That fool. I can’t believe he would-”
“Relax, Ominis. Sebastian didn’t give up your secret, um…willingly.” What were you saying? What did that even mean? Before you could say anything else, Ominis stopped talking and narrowed his eyes dangerously.
“What do you mean by that.” There was no question in his voice, only a frosty demand. You resisted the shiver tickling at your spine, swallowing the need to take a few steps back.
“I saw Sebastian duck in here earlier and followed him. He- uh, he’s not as sneaky as he thinks.” You had absolutely no control over the words coming out of your mouth. Cringing internally at your horrid acting, you wondered how Ominis hadn’t seen right through you.
“Don’t worry. I promised to keep the Undercroft a secret…for a…a price?” WHAT. Why would you say that? Why would you say that? You watched his chest heave in anger, latching onto the implication of your threat. It seemed he’d rather believe you the villain, than consider his friend's betrayal.
“What. Price.” There was something in his voice that sent a chill through your bones. Something hissed behind his lips, sinister and cold, almost too faint for you to hear. You felt like a rabbit cornered by a cobra, nowhere to go but through him.
Swallowing, you steeled yourself, resolving to end this interaction quickly so you could wallow in self pity from the comfort of your bed. “Nothing much, just a favor. No need to concern yourself over it.” You stupidly give him your back as you slide past, wanting to bolt from this absolute disaster, but forcing your legs to maintain a casual pace.
“If you tell anyone about this place, I will make sure the rest of your time at this school is a living hell. My father is good friends with Professor Black, and I will not hesitate to exploit that connection if I need to. Not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to save you.”
Humming lowly, you continued down the hall without looking back. You could faintly hear Ominis snarl in rage, as he opened the door roughly to question Sebastian. The sound was drowned out by the whirling thoughts in your head. What had you done? You couldn’t have created a bigger mess if you’d tried. There was no way you could come back from this, no way Ominis would want to be anywhere near you. You didn’t even know if you’d be allowed around Sebastian anymore, knowledge of the Undercroft not worth the loss of a new friend.
Resigning yourself to lie in the bed you’d made, your legs trudged the rest of the way to your dorm. Wondering what the morning would have in store.
——————————————-
Whatever had been said that night between the two, Sebastian never brought it up.
Instead, he invited you to Feldcroft to meet his sister, and uncle. Which was a less than pleasant experience, to put it lightly. You would see Ominis around the halls and in classes, but you wouldn’t get much more than a withering glare in your general direction. Sebastian reassured you that he just needed a little time to cool down, but his seemingly permanent scowl lines told a different story.
You took some comfort in knowing that Sebastian and Ominis’s friendship improved greatly, often seeing them walking together between classes. It brought a smile to your face every time Sebastian would wave to you enthusiastically when Ominis wasn’t looking, quickly putting his arm down when the blonde would face his direction. Things continued on like this for a while, settling into this weird passive aggressive routine you weren’t sure how to break.
————————————————-
Ominis was pissed. Ever since the Undercroft, he’d made sure you knew how displeased he was in your presence. He’d spent the rest of that night cursing himself for being so foolish, having believed you to be kind, just as the rest of the student body. After his outburst in potions class, he’d been contemplating ways to apologize, wanting to give you a better impression of him. Not anymore. After that night, he couldn’t even stand to hear your voice.
Your loud laugh would echo through the halls, instantly souring his mood. He questioned Sebastian constantly about the favor he owed you, but was brushed off every time. The brunette remaining tight lipped, telling him not to worry about it. In truth, he really did owe you, for taking the full brunt of Ominis’s wrath. Sebastian planned to come clean once Ominis had settled, but it seemed to be taking longer than expected.
Ominis couldn’t let it go. He began lurking around corners, listening to the whispers of other students. He listened intently for any other favors you were owed, paying particularly close attention to those you’d been seen with frequently. Nothing. All people ever did was sing your praises.
He sat alone on the second floor of the library, hiding between the tall stacks. For once, trying to avoid all human contact, his nerves frayed and mind tired.
Low murmurs were filtering in from the next aisle over. Ominis sat, uninterested, until an unmistakable laugh caught his attention. His ears perked up, instantly recognizing your carefree giggles, followed by Natty’s light scolding to be quiet. Ominis slowly stood from his seat, creeping to stand just around the corner, out of sight but in better ear shot.
Once the giggling from the both of you faded, you stood in comfortable silence, returning your borrowed books to their respective shelves. Standing there, it didn’t seem to Ominis that you were going to say anything more, taking a step away to find another hiding spot. Just as he lifted his foot, Natty’s voice quietly broke your companionable silence.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, my friend.” Her voice was quiet, as to keep her question private, but not quiet enough to escape Ominis’s sharp hearing. You hum in acknowledgement, awaiting Natty’s inquiry.
“What on Earth did you do to piss off Ominis Gaunt so badly?” Natty never minced her words, always opting to get straight to the point, something you truly appreciated about her.
Ominis could hear your breathing stop, before heaving a big sigh and plopping down in a chair. His wand pulsed, and he could tell that you’d put your head in your hands, face directed to the floor.
“You noticed that, huh?”
Natty laughed jovially, ignoring your obvious distress. “Who hasn’t? He certainly isn’t trying to be subtle.”
He could hear you sit back, your voice muffled by the hands covering your face. “…it’s embarrassing.”
Natty nudged you to continue. Sighing, you dropped your arms, hands slapping your thighs loudly. “Sebastian…told me something he shouldn’t have, and the only stipulation was that Ominis wouldn’t find out. Unfortunately, as if by magic, he caught me almost immediately. Which, believe me, was already bad enough, but then I had to make it worse by lying to him.”
Natty hummed, waiting for you to continue. “He was so angry, and I’d just promised Sebastian I’d keep his secret, you know, a secret. We’d just started really being friends and I didn’t want to jeopardize that, so I panicked and just said the first thing that came to mind.”
Natty’s brow lifted. “Which was…?” Your head fell back into your hands, your words becoming slightly muffled.
“I told him that I’d keep their secret for a price. A price, Natty! Like I was some kind of Ashwinder demanding ransom. What the fuck was I thinking?” You groaned, and Natty remained silent as you rambled, the words spilling out of your mouth.
“You don’t understand. He was so scary. I was nearly pissing myself the whole time. It took everything in me to not sprint away. Ranrok’s loyalists have nothing on Ominis when he’s well and truly put out.” You paused briefly to take a breath before charging forward. “I just- I just kept talking. I couldn’t stop. And my acting was so bad. I really don’t understand how he even believed me.”
Natty attempted to hide her smile with her hand. Ominis could vaguely hear you smack her lightly, crying that it wasn’t funny, but his mind was elsewhere.
He suddenly felt very guilty about how he’d treated you that night, now recognizing your obvious discomfort and nervousness. Why had Sebastian let you take the blame for him? Ominis thought back to his boarish behavior the last few weeks, angry at his blatant hostility and lack of attention. If he’d taken a moment to actually consider the situation, he might not have wasted so much energy hating you. He hoped you’d be willing to forgive him, but didn’t have very high hopes.
————————————————-
It took a couple days before Ominis gathered enough courage to approach you, but broke down after hearing you laugh with Sebastian before Potions. You’d noticed his sudden change in behavior, because of course you did. He seemed more withdrawn than normal, barely ever facing your direction. His newfound stoicism had begun to worry you, and asking Sebastian had been no help. He’d simply shrugged and grumbled something about Ominis being too clever for his own good.
Acquiring your extra assignments from Professor Sharp, you headed to the Room of Requirement with your newly rescued beasts, excited to show them their vivarium.
Clearing the classroom threshold, you spotted Ominis, arms crossed, leaning against the wall conspicuously. He’d been avoiding you the last few days, so it was odd to see him openly waiting around. You paused your steps and regarded him. He looked a little worse for wear, but otherwise seemed fine, physically at least. Approaching him cautiously, you stop a healthy distance away. “Hello, Ominis. Did- Did you need something?”
His fingers tighten on his sleeve, brows scrunching. You thought that you’d maybe been mistaken and you were only aggravating him further.
He didn’t turn his head to face you, but his eyes looked in your direction, trying harder than usual to pinpoint your location. “You can drop the act now.”
You fidget with your fingers and bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.
“I, um, I don’t-“
“Don’t even bother. Sebastian already told me about your little charade. You might as well stop while I still have a modicum of patience.”
You sighed, shoulders slumping, letting the nervous tension leave your body. “You know, it’s just like him to tell on me and ruin all my hard work.” You glance at Ominis briefly, noticing his expression had morphed into something like amusement, but it just as likely could have been a trick of the light. “So you know, but you still seem upset?”
Huffing at you, he rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, keeping his arms crossed as he faced you fully. “Of course I’m still upset. I don’t enjoy being lied to, no matter how noble the reason. I’m perfectly capable of making my own judgments, thank you very much.” You looked at the ground and flattened your lips into a thin line, nodding in agreement before remembering that he couldn’t see you.
“Yeah ok, I deserve that. I’m sorry.” You watched him shake his head and turn his head, looking pointedly down the hall.
“Yes, well, please refrain in the future. It’s going to be very difficult spending time together if I can’t trust your word.” Slight color rose to his cheeks as he realized the possible implication of his words. “Since you’re friends with Sebastian and all. I imagine you’ll start frequenting the Undercroft more often now that your farce has been discovered.”
You chuckled and smiled at him. “Of course. I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” He nodded once, and turned to swiftly walk down the hall.
You’d thought that was the end of it, but are surprised when Ominis stops abruptly, calling to you over his shoulder. “I apologize for my behavior the other night, and everyday since then. It was rather rude and unnecessary.” Without waiting for a response, he walks off down the hall. You smile after him and continue on with the rest of your day, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.
————————————————
You did, in fact, visit the Undercroft more frequently after that. Mostly with Sebastian, but Ominis was slowly making a habit of accompanying the brunette when the two of you made plans. He’d also started showing up to your study table without so much as a greeting, simply sitting down and pulling out his assignments for the day. Today was one of those days. You glanced up from your Herbology homework to see Ominis making a beeline for your table. Smiling to yourself, you watch him approach, waiting for him to be fully seated before greeting him.
“Ominis.” You only get a hum of acknowledgement in return, before you both turn your attention to your respective assignments. An hour passes in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the clock tower signaling the start of a new hour. You’d planned to practice your spell work in the Undercroft after the library, and started packing your things to head out. Glancing at Ominis, you hesitate for only a moment before circling around to his side of the table, leaning down next to him.
“Ominis.” His head turns slightly in your direction, signaling that you had his attention without looking away from his enchanted quill. “I’m heading to the Undercroft for a bit. Care to join me?” You lean away and watch him consider your offer, before quietly disenchanting his quill and following you out of the library.
The walk to the Undercroft was done in comfortable silence, occasionally bumping shoulders on the way. He led the way down to his secret room, making sure no one had seen your entrance before closing the door securely. He headed for the center of the room, casually discarding his robe on a lounge chair on the way. You’d just crossed the threshold when he whipped around without warning. “Levioso.”
Instinctively, you shout Protego, his spell bouncing off the shield harmlessly. You look at him bewildered, about to ask what had gotten into him, when he whipped two more spells at you in quick succession. Dodging one and shielding against the other, you cast Stupify, only for him to roll out of the way effortlessly. “You know, you’ll never stand a chance against dark wizards if all you do is run away.”
“Ominis, what is happening right now? Did I do something to upset you?” He huffed and rolled his eyes, still brandishing his wand in your direction.
“Did you not come here to practice your spells?” He shot off another basic cast without warning. You leapt out of the way just in time, the spell hitting the wall behind you.
“I mean, I did, I jus- oh shit! uh, I wasn’t expecting to- fuck! Immediately find myself in a duel.” You continue to tuck and roll, as Ominis quickly fires a few more spells your way. A cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, giving you the sense that he was only playing with you at the moment.
“You think Sebastian became so good at dueling by accident? He’s only considered the best because I don’t care to waste my time playing in Lucan’s little club. I’d wipe the floor with my eyes closed.” You barked out a surprised laugh, almost costing you your robes as a ball of fire came hurtling towards you. Ominis’s smirk grew into a wicked smile. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on his lips as you circled around each other slowly.
“You should add ‘comedian’ to your long list of talents.”
“Is it comedy, or just honesty?”
“Mmm, humble too.” This time you take the attack, casting Depulso, attempting to knock him prone. He threw up his shield and cast Stupify in retaliation, hitting you in the chest.
You stumble a bit, and scramble to regain your balance. Before you could react, Ominis cast Expelliarmus, ripping your wand from your hand. He followed with Accio, yanking you across the room towards him before your wand finished falling. Spinning, you land directly in front of him, feet wobbling as you hit the ground.
An arm snakes around your waist and tugs you forward, steadying you. You feel the point of a wand lightly touch your throat, and a low amused rumble come from the chest pressing against you. Looking up at Ominis’s face, you notice he’d closed his eyes at some point during your sparring, a pleased smile resting comfortably on his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you gape up at him, mind reeling at how good he looks like this. Relaxed and happy, if not a little cocky. You search for something to say, anything, when he parts his lips.
“I win.” His voice is barely above a whisper, his smile growing at your indignant huff.
“You cheated. That wasn’t a fair fight.” His arm tightens ever so slightly around you as another chuckle escapes him.
“They never are. I even gave you a handicap, and you still lost.” He opened his eyes as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, eyes crinkling around the edges as you lightly smacked his arm.
“It doesn’t count as a handicap if you’re not actually restricting yourself, you ass.” He barked out a laugh and lowered his wand, but didn’t remove his arm from you.
“You’re free to try again, if you’d like. Though I doubt being prepared this time will change the outcome.” You narrow your eyes at him.
“I’m gonna kick your ass.”
His haughty smirk morphed into an actual grin as he finally released his hold on you. “I’m looking forward to it.”
——————————————
You, in fact, did not kick his ass. The tension between you continued to grow after every round, the air growing heavy with something unnamed, calling it quits after the fourth duel.
Following that, you would sneak into the Undercroft together while Sebastian was in class, enjoying the easy banter that came without the brunette dominating the conversation. Not that it had been very difficult to hide your increasingly frequent rendezvous. Sebastian had become more and more preoccupied with his search for a cure recently, talking about his latest discoveries every time you were all together. Both you and Ominis grew more concerned the deeper Sebastian delved into the Dark Arts, often discussing how to steer him away from the path he traveled on. You’d decided to trust him to know when to stop, but you weren’t convinced when he started pestering Ominis about the location of Salazar Slytherin’s secret Scriptorium. Ominis continuously refused to tell him any information, and was just getting more irritated by the day.
Ominis was ranting to you one day after combat training, yelling about how Sebastian had kept him up half the night prior with his whining. You’d been contemplating how to end Sebastian’s obsession without potentially pushing him away, when a truly wild thought occurred to you. You tried to interrupt Ominis’s pacing and irritated grumbles.
“Ominis.” He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, eyebrows scrunching further the more he worked himself up.
“Ominis.” You called his name a bit louder. Still no response. You could sense a whole new wave of annoyance about to explode out of his mouth, and attempted to interrupt it before he really got going.
“Ominis!”
“What?!” He whipped around to face you, a slightly unhinged look in his silver eyes.
“Stop your incessant pacing for a moment and come over here.” He narrowed his eyes and grumbled, but did as he was asked, stopping a short distance away.
“What.” He was decidedly calmer than he had been, so you excused his shortness. You took a deep breath, preparing to share your possible solution, knowing he’d object immediately, but hoping to persuade him.
“I had a thought, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He huffed and crossed his arms, putting all his weight on his left leg while raising one eyebrow.
“Well? Spit it out.” You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, knowing he was acting this way out of worry.
“Alright, first of all, you can lose the attitude. We’re on the same team here. No reason for you to get pissy with me.” He clicked his tongue and looked away, but didn’t make any more comments as he waited for you to speak. Rolling your eyes again, you try to choose your next words carefully. “What if, and hear me out here, we take him to the Scriptorium.”
Ominis went to object, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could get any words out. You tried to ignore the feel of his lips on your fingers and kept talking. “I wasn’t finished. We take him to the Scriptorium, and if we find something, we hide it before he can get his hands on it. He’ll see it’s a dead end, and look elsewhere.”
You look up into Ominis’s hard eyes and slowly remove your hand from his mouth. His arms remain crossed as he scowls, remaining quiet for only a moment longer.
“Congratulations. That was officially the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Absolutely not. How could you think going INTO the Scriptorium is a viable solution? My Aunt Noctua disappeared after entering that place, and we all assume she died terribly in her search.” You could see the sadness creep into his expression at the mention of his beloved aunt.
As you’d grown closer the last few weeks, he’d started opening up to you about his family history, and how he adored his aunt for sharing his personal beliefs. Your brow furrowed in sympathy, completely understanding his aversion to anything to do with the Dark Arts. You place your hand gently on his elbow before speaking again.
“I know, but letting him think his search is futile would be better than the alternative. I have a bad feeling it’ll only escalate if we don’t intervene.” His face is turned to the floor, and his eyes still hold the same hardness from before, but he is clearly considering your words carefully. You squeeze his elbow gently, pushing on. “It would also be nice if you could get some closure about your aunt. Maybe there’s something she left behind?” You watched his shoulders sag as he exhaled loudly. Defeated. “We stop as soon as things get too dangerous. Ok? I promise.”
He thinks for a moment more, but you could tell that you’d won. He heaves a large sigh before looking up at you, eyes searching your face as if he could actually see your expression. “Ok.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and give his still folded arm a tight squeeze. “-but, we leave as soon as I say, alright? Not a second later.” You nod in agreement and say yes, hoping the two of you would be able to pull this heist off under Sebastian’s nose.
—————————————————
The following night, you found yourself standing in a dark hallway deep in the Hogwarts dungeon. No other students ventured this far, and your only source of light were the sparsely scattered torches. Which only served to cast an eerie glow over the bricks.
“The entrance is here, but there’s some kind of trick to getting it to open. Something about three’s.”
You look around and notice two large, unlit braziers flanking the arch way towards the Slytherin Common Room. Three pairs of bejeweled snake eyes seemingly following your every movement. Looking around, you spot a similar brazier standing alone down the opposite hall. Having become familiar with the little puzzles peppered around the castle, designed to bolster your field guide, you theorized those braziers probably needed to be lit.
Taking out your wand, you cast Confringo on the lone brazier, quickly casting it on the other two after. For a moment, nothing happens, and you second guess yourself. Just as you went to ask the boys for other ideas, faint hissing traveled past your ears, and only grew louder as a door revealed itself on the wall.
Sebastian’s face holds a poorly concealed grin, giddy at the new discovery. Ominis looks like he wants to call the whole thing off here, but instead approaches the door. “Alright, we found the entrance. Now, how to open the door.” He puts his hand on it, feeling for some sort of doorknob or locking mechanism, coming up empty handed. Sebastian squeezes in next to him to get a better look and the ornate designs.
“Say something in Parseltongue.” You cock your head at Sebastian quizzically.
“What’s Parseltongue?” Ominis sighs heavily, but doesn’t look at you.
“A Parseltongue is someone who can speak to snakes. It’s a rare ability, and almost all known Parseltongues are directly descended from Salazar Slytherin.”
Sebastian shuffles his feet excitedly and stops trying to hide his boyish grin. “And we just so happen to have one standing right here!”
Ominis looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. You knew he was feeling uneasy. Walking up beside him, you grab his hand, causing him to look in your direction uncertainly. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, ignoring Sebastian’s gaze darting between you two. Ominis squeezes back, and doesn’t release you as he starts speaking. The unknown words caress your skin as they slither through the air.
The door responds, granting access to the pitch black rooms beyond. You give Ominis one last squeeze before letting go and heading into the dark, Sebastian following close behind. Ominis hesitated, but decided that whatever was beyond the door would be best faced by the three of you. As soon as everyone crossed the threshold, the entrance closed and locked, forcing you to continue forward through the maze.
“So, what did you say to Ominis?” Sebastian came up next to you, speaking in a low tone just out of their companions earshot.
“What makes you think I said anything to him?” You kept your gaze focused on the stones in front of you, worried Sebastian would glean something from your expression. Sebastian huffed in amusement while moving some cobwebs out of his way.
“Don’t even try. I’ve been hounding him for information for weeks. I tell you about the Scriptorium, and suddenly he’s on board? Clearly something happened with you two.” You blush a bit at the underlying implication in his words, thankful for the low light in this maze.
“You just don’t have the same way with words, Sebastian. I simply put the situation into perspective for him.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you push forward, scanning each surface for a hint of what was to come. Sebastian muttered a doubtful ‘Right.’ under his breath, but dropped it for the moment.
You found several unlit torches on the walls, getting to work lighting as many as possible. There were unique puzzles acting as locks needed to move forward. You found scattered pages along the way, each revealing itself to be written by Noctua Gaunt. Handing each one to Ominis, he stores them safely in his robes to read later.
Solving the last puzzle, the three of you cross into the next room. You had a feeling this was the final hurdle before discovering the Scriptorium, but stop short after entering the room. A pile of bones lie on the ground near the opposite door, next to the word ‘Crucio’ scratched into the floor.
Mind reeling, you pivot, attempting to walk back to Ominis, only to find him directly behind you.
He’d stopped so close that your forehead nearly bounced off his chest. His face unreadable as he stares in the direction of the body, the hand holding his wand shaking ever so slightly. You take his other hand in yours, silently confirming his terrible suspicion. He lets out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, body tense, only worsening when Sebastian read the word aloud. “Crucio?”
Ominis sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your hand tightening painfully.
Keeping his grasp on you, he whirled back the way you came, dragging you along with him. “We’re leaving.”
Just before you’d reached the doorway, it vanished, leaving you nowhere to go but forward. You yanked on Ominis’s hand, preventing him from hitting his head on the solid wall before you. His breaths became erratic, his hand shaking violently in yours.
“Ominis it’s- the door’s gone. We have to- we have to keep going.” You tried your best to remain calm and keep your voice from trembling. Ominis started shaking his head, tears beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes.
“No. No, no, no this can’t- we can’t- we shouldn’t- we shouldn’t have come. I knew we shouldn’t have done this. You- You promised we’d leave when I said. You-” Tears started to gather in your eyes from watching Ominis’s worst fear come true. You hated yourself for ever suggesting this in the first place, wishing you could take it all back. You hold his hand in both of yours, staring helplessly, trying to figure out how to calm his panic. Sebastian spoke from the other side of the room.
“We’re not trapped, Ominis. We just need to cast Crucio and we’re in. Since you’re the only one who’s cast it before, you should-”
“NO, Sebastian. I’ll never go near that spell again. I can’t.” His silver eyes were wild as they shot in Sebastian’s direction, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.”You need- You need to want to cause pain when you cast it. I have no such desire. I- I can’t.” You squeezed his hand as hard as you could, trying desperately to squeeze the guilt out of him. Tears were openly running down his cheeks, his expression one of pure torture, as if he was reliving the day he cast the curse all over again.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ominis. Your family-”
“That doesn’t excuse anything. At the end of the day, I still cast it, and I will live the rest of my days haunted by the memory.” You looked to Sebastian for help, but only received a gesture to come over to him. Annoyed that he wasn’t trying to help his distraught friend, you looked back at Ominis.
“Ok. It’s ok. You won’t have to cast it. We’ll figure out another way out of here. Stay right here.” You gave his hand one final squeeze before making your way to Sebastian. “What do we do?” He regarded you for a moment before flicking his eyes back towards Ominis.
“Well, I also technically know the Cruciatus Curse, but I haven’t actually cast it before, so I can’t entirely guarantee anyone’s safety. I can either cast it on you, or teach you and have it cast on me.”
You already knew the answer. There wasn't a bone in your body that would allow you to cast such a horrid curse on your friends, growing nauseous at the thought. You looked at Ominis, once again facing the wall you’d come through, and steeled yourself.
“Cast it on me.” Sebastian nodded and took a step back, waiting for you to give the signal.
“I won’t forget this.”
You took a steadying breath and nodded. Faster than you had anticipated, a bolt of red lightning was streaking from Sebastian’s wand. “Crucio!”
Your knees hit the ground as you were struck. You’d tried to hold in your screams, for Ominis, but the pain was too great. Your wails echoed loudly in the tight space.
Through your tears, you could vaguely make out Ominis crouched over, covering his ears. A small part of you thought that you deserved this for opening his old wounds, but that thought was quickly replaced with another wave of blinding agony.
As the spell began to fade, you could hear the door into the Scriptorium melt against the floor, the path open. Your body screamed in protest, but you stood up as quickly as possible and focused on the task at hand.
“Are you alright?” Sebastian wore a look of concern, and it warmed your heart that he hadn’t immediately run off into the other room. You nodded and walked inside, still clutching your ribs.
“Fine. Let’s look around inside. Sebastian, start in this room, we’ll search upstairs.” Without waiting to see if Ominis would follow, you dragged yourself by the handrail to the study on the second floor.
Casting Revelio, you spot a book lying on the desk emitting a dark and twisted aura. You pick it up and examine the cover, identifying it as Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. If Sebastian wanted anything in this room, it would be this book. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs, pulling you out of your thoughts, whirling around, you recognize Ominis’s blonde hair ascending the staircase.
As he reached the last step, you whispered his name, beckoning him closer. You started hurriedly filling him in when he got close enough. “Ominis, this is Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. We can’t let Sebastian find it. Help me look for a place to-”
“Does it still hurt?” You sputtered in surprise.
“Does what still hurt?”
You could see deep set worry in Ominis’s brows, his lips turned down in a sorrowful frown. “The curse. Does it still hurt?”
You blinked slowly, not quite understanding his train of thought. “Um, well yes, but that’s not important right now-”
“Yes it is. Of course it is. How could that not be the most important thing right now?” His hand took your unoccupied one gently. His other came up to lightly stroke the side of your head, tucking his thumb gently behind your ear, barely touching you.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to experience that torture.” You could feel his breath on your face from how close he’d gotten and how breathy his voice had become. “So sorry.”
His face shone with regret, wishing he’d been able to spare you this pain. You squeezed his fingers, about to reassure him that you were alright, when you heard Sebastian call up to you.
“I haven’t found anything useful down here! What about up there?” You were ripped from the intimate moment by the realization that you still had a job to do. You cursed under your breath and looked around, seeing a book of similar size on a top shelf behind Ominis. Casting Accio, you pull it towards you, placing it in the spot the spell book previously occupied. Thankfully, it filled the outline in the dust well enough to avoid suspicion. There was no time to stash the book in your hands, hearing Sebastian climbing the stairs, calling for you both. You look at Ominis wildly and shove the book into his chest.
“Tuck the book into my waistband.” You let go of the book, forcing him to catch it before it fell to the ground. You quickly grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down toward you. Pausing only briefly to apologize.
“Please forgive me.”
“What-” You didn’t give him time to ask what you meant, hoping that he’d figure it out. You pulled him the rest of the way down and crashed your lips together clumsily. He stood there frozen until he heard Sebastain call for you again, almost to the top of the stairs. Ominis wound his arms around your waist, underneath your cloak, tucking the spell book into your waistband like you’d asked. Making sure it would be secure until you could move it to a safer location.
You could hear Sebastian stop short at the top of the stairs and just stare. Both you and Ominis pretending you hadn’t heard him, continuing to kiss. You started losing yourself in the blonde’s mouth, realizing how much you liked kissing him. His hands clutched your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible, seemingly becoming as lost as you. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking just under your eye. Your fingers found their way into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and tugging slightly on the short strands. Ominis groaned into your mouth and deepened the kiss, licking at your bottom lip needily.
“OK, that’s enough. What exactly is going on here?” You tear your mouths away from each other in genuine surprise, having both forgotten Sebastian had been standing there. He raised an eyebrow, regarding the both of you as you stayed intertwined.
“Uh, well, the um, the pain from the, the curse hadn’t fully subsided yet, and I needed a…distraction.” You hoped your half baked lie would be enough to fool the brunette, but you weren’t very confident.
Sebastian's eyes flickered back and forth between you two, definitely suspecting something was going on, also noting that you had yet to release each other. Ominis’s body curled protectively around you, shoulders hunched as if to shield you from Sebastian’s gaze. He closed his eyes and shook his head, deciding that he wasn’t willing to deal with this right now.
“Right, well were you able to find anything of importance, or have you just been snogging this whole time?” You and Ominis finally realize you were still cradling each other, and jump apart. You looked down at the floor blushing, gesturing to the book on the desk. Ominis was looking anywhere but you, trying to hide his blush behind his hand. Sebastian eyed the both of you as he walked over to the book. You didn’t know what book you’d summoned from the shelf, but you hoped that it was something less dangerous than the spell book. Sebastian flipped through the pages, seemingly satisfied.
“A book of rare potions. This could definitely prove useful.” With that he snapped the book shut and turned towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve all had enough excitement for one day.” He started walking without waiting for either you or Ominis. Exiting, the back of your hand brushed Ominis’s, silently promising him that you’d take care of the book. He nodded slightly and you bid the boys goodnight, quickly heading for the Room of Requirement, thinking of places to stash the tome.
—————————————————-
You didn’t see much of the boys for a while afterwards. Trials set by the Keepers and your academic responsibility pulling you in too many different directions to have much free time to spend with your friends. Ominis wore a constant face of worry when you were around, repeatedly asking if you were alright. You did your best to reassure him that you were just busy, before apologizing and hurrying to your next task.
Ominis hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed your company until he didn’t have it anymore. He craved it, and was struck with how much he missed you. He didn’t want to be selfish and ask you to carve out time to spend with him in your outrageous schedule, so he settled for keeping a close eye on you whenever you were near.
Thoughts of the Scriptorium floated through his mind constantly. Wanting to know why you’d thought to kiss him, and if you’d let him do it again. Sebastian had stuck his nose in the potions book you’d found, and had yet to come up for air. He wished there was a way to take some of the burden off his friends shoulders, but came up short every time.
After completing all of the Trials, you now had a fairly good grasp on the ancient power you wielded. You’d listened to all the warnings from the Keepers on the responsibility of this power, and you swore to use it wisely. However, there was one thing you needed to accomplish, preferably without the Keepers ever finding out. Surely removing a curse was more acceptable than removing emotion, but you thought it best to keep it secret.
That’s how you found yourself in Feldcroft, standing outside Sebastian’s uncle’s house. You knocked on the door lightly, praying that Anne was home alone. She opened the door and greeted you cheerily, inviting you in. You glanced around and didn’t see anyone else, which was exactly what you needed.
“Hello!! It’s been too long, thank you for the visit.” You smiled warmly and sat down at the table.
“It’s great to see you, Anne. How’ve you been? Have you seen Ominis or Sebastian recently?” She joined you sitting at the table, wincing a bit in discomfort before settling down.
“I’ve been well. As well as I can be anyway. Fortunately both Ominis and Sebastian have paid me a few visits since we last spoke. I believe they’re actually on their way over shortly.” You nod quickly, realizing that you didn’t have much time.
“Alright, we’ve gotta do this quickly. Anne, I can help you, but you can’t tell a single soul what happens here. I need you to trust me and not ask questions, ok? Explaining would take much too long and put you in too much danger. Please, please just trust me.” You looked her in the eyes, willing her to say yes, so you could accomplish your goal before the boys arrived. She bit her lip and studied the table, nodding hesitantly, and then more resolutely.
“Do it. Uh, whatever ‘it’ is.” You breathed out a sigh of relief and took out your wand, placing it over her heart.
“Take a deep breath.” She did as she was told, and you began to pull the curse out of her while she exhaled. She had a slight look of discomfort but remained still until you were done. She slumped back into her chair as you placed the curse in a jar, to dispose of when you returned to the castle. You could see the color already returning to her face as you studied her, making sure you hadn’t messed up in any way.
She had her head down quietly, and you were about to ask if she was alright, when you saw teardrops start falling into her lap. Panicking, you reach for her, afraid something was wrong. Suddenly her head shot up and she beamed at you, smiling so bright you thought you might end up blind.
“The pain, it’s- it’s just…gone! Thank you. Merlin’s beard, thank you. I can’t ever repay you for what you’ve done.” You shushed her with a hug, glad to see the girl Sebastian spoke about come back to the surface.
“You don’t have to thank me. Just promise me, if anyone asks, tell them it was Sebastian. One of his potions, or something. Please, keep this between us.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes with her hand. You wanted to say more, but heard the tell tale signs of the boys arguing as they approached the house. You got up quickly and cast Disillusionment on yourself before whispering to her. “I was never here.”
She nodded again as the door opened, both boys walking in. You waited until they went to greet her before slipping out the front door, creeping away. You could hear Sebastian’s cries of joy as he held his sister close, asking her a thousand questions.
What you didn’t notice, however, was Ominis watching you slink away down the path. Disillusionment never worked on him, his wand detecting a person’s mass. He’d accidentally exposed many hidden persons, often getting them into trouble.
He listened to Anne and Sebastian talk, wondering why you hadn’t stayed, but as Sebastian grilled Anne, he could hear the slight hesitance in her voice. He turned in their direction, watching Anne wring her hands under the table, something she did when she was lying.
She glanced over at him, noting his silence, in stark contrast with Sebastian’s excited chatter. Noticing how closely he studied her, she looked away quickly, laughing nervously at Sebastian, who was too wrapped up in his own excitement to notice.
Suddenly, it dawned on him what you’d done. He knew the rules you’d broken, the danger you’d put yourself in, and he wanted to weep. His emotions were everywhere, a part of him wanting to stay and celebrate, but a larger portion desperate to fly back to the castle in search of you. He struggled to get his breathing under control.
Anne could see the change in him, and shook her head, eyes wide, begging him not to say anything. Ominis took a few deep breaths, striding over to her quickly. He pushed Sebastian out of the way and enveloped Anne in his arms, squeezing her tight.
Sebastian wormed his way in between the two, joining the relieved embrace. The three of them sat quietly, and there wasn’t a dry eye when they’d finally pulled apart. Laughing through their tears, the boys regaled Anne with their latest escapades, excited for her eventual return to the school.
You sat in the back of Ominis’s mind as he celebrated with his friends, longing to share this moment with you, but understanding why he couldn’t. He resolved to find you as soon as they returned to the castle, eternally grateful for the risk you’d taken.
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Sebastian and Ominis only spent a couple hours with Anne, wandering back towards the castle in the early afternoon. The boys parted ways after entering Hogwarts, Sebastian walking leisurely toward their Common Room.
Ominis didn’t even wait for Sebastian to turn the corner before taking off. He checked all of your usual haunts, failing to spot you anywhere. He started checking the classrooms to see if you’d maybe gone to speak to a professor, all coming up empty.
He made his way to the Astronomy Tower, having already checked the other classrooms, wondering where you could have possibly disappeared to. He passes a blank portion of wall, stopping at the light sound of metal on brick. Turning, he watches in awe as a door appears, beckoning him forward.
He opens the door slightly, cautiously sticking his wand in first, mapping the room beyond. His eyes widened as he yanked the door open, and taking a few hesitant steps in, he disappeared inside.
The room was enormous. He subconsciously wondered how his wand had never picked up such a huge space. He could hear the faint call of gulls and running water, sensing another large room down a nearby hall, but unable to glean any details.
There didn’t seem to be anyone else there, until a house elf appeared next to him, startling the blind boy. “Oh, Master Gaunt! What a surprise! What can Deek help you with?” Ominis looked from Deek, to the room, and back to Deek.
“Wha- What is this place, um…Deek?” Deek smiles at him kindly.
“It’s the Room of Requirement, Master Gaunt! It sometimes appears to students in need. What were you looking for when it appeared? Maybe Deek can help you find it!” Ominis blinked. He’d been thinking about you. His thoughts had been a jumbled mess, unsure what to even say when he finally found you. During his search, Ominis had considered keeping his knowledge to himself, but ultimately decided to come clean. He hadn’t thought he could keep his emotions in check enough to come up with a convincing lie. His heart was pounding too hard with a driving need to see you, the feeling only increasing the longer you evaded him.
He relayed his intentions to Deek, who smiled widely back. “Well! You’re certainly in the right place. They’re right down the hall, should Deek show you?”
Ominis shook his head and thanked the elf, walking quickly into the next room. There were plant pots and potion desks lining the walls, a pleasant scent hanging in the air. Ominis scanned the room, spotting you over by a truly massive Chinese chomping cabbage. He had no idea they could get that big, but there you were, petting it lovingly, unafraid.
He has no memory of walking towards you, not entirely in control of his body. You turn around, bumping directly into his chest, and let out a surprised gasp. “Fuck! Who- Ominis! You- Merlin's beard, you scared me. How did you-“
Ominis drops his wand on the floor carelessly, hands coming up to cradle your face reverently.
“Thank you.” His lips land on your forehead first, kissing the skin slowly. You make a small noise of surprise, but otherwise are unable to speak.
“Thank you.” He kissed your left eye, voice barely above a whisper. Your hands unconsciously rest themselves on his forearms, gripping them slightly.
“Thank you.” You feel the delicate press of his lips on your right eye.
“For saving Anne.” He kissed the bridge of your nose tenderly, before skipping your lips and kissing your chin. “For saving Sebastian.”
He looks at you with hooded eyes, stopping a hair's breadth away. Thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly, pausing only for a moment. “For saving me.”
You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t-“
“You did.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, brushing it ever so slightly. He hadn’t realized until this moment, but you had indeed saved him. He’d lost so much so quickly, and was on the path to losing whatever he had left. Anne was gone, and Sebastian was killing himself to get her back. Ominis had felt like he was drowning. His friends, who were really his family, were fading. There had been nothing he could do to stop it, but…you did. Self sacrificing, stubborn, beautiful you. He knew he was done for. He wanted to fill his lungs with you, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.
The air hung heavily between you, the tension almost stifling. Ominis gently brushed your nose with his.
“Can I kiss you?” Ominis spoke the words into your mouth, his voice needy, waiting for your answer.
“If you want to.”
He let out a shuddering breath, and inched impossibly closer. “Desperately.”
Pressing your lips together, he kissed you slowly, savoring each second. He groaned, pulling away briefly, only to come surging back with renewed vigor. Ominis’s hands slid down your sides, coming to wrap around your middle. Your arms came up around his shoulders, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the strands. Ominis gasps, pulling your hips impossibly closer, grinding his lower body into you.
He tears his mouth away from you, but doesn’t go far. Leaning his forehead against yours, you both take some time to catch your breath. He recovered faster, and started gently scattering soft kisses around your neck and jaw, continuing his ministrations while he spoke. “I don’t- I can’t articulate how grateful I am. You’ve done- Merlin’s beard, you’ve done so much for me. How would I even begin to repay you?”
You’re roused a bit from your dazed stupor at his words, tilting your head down slowly to look at him again, shaking your head. “Ominis, there’s nothing to repay. You owe me nothing.”
Ominis took a step back and sunk to the floor, kneeling in front of you. You had to grab onto the table behind you to avoid collapsing. You were rendered speechless at the sight of Ominis, on his knees before you. His hands rested on your outer thighs, thumbs stroking back and forth idly.
He looked up at you with unadulterated adoration, his sightless eyes searching for you longingly. “You saved my family.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your thighs.
“I owe you everything.” Leaning forward, his lips placed a light kiss on your left thigh, scorching you through the fabric. He moved to kiss the other thigh just as tenderly, a shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. Hands creeping up to rest on your hips, he pressed a couple more kisses into your stomach, face nuzzling you here and there.
“I’d spend the rest of my days showing you how grateful I am,” his chin came to rest on your stomach “if you’d let me.” Eyes hooded, boring into yours, you move your fingers to brush his cheek ever so slightly. He leaned his head fully into your palm, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice. “Please, let me.” He turned his face, kissing the palm of your hand, whispering into your skin like a prayer. “Please.”
You can hardly breathe. Your heart, pounding faster than your first time flying on Highwing. The sight of this beautiful, refined, proud man begging on his knees was something straight out of a muggle romance novel. You cupped his other cheek with your hand, bending over and pressing a firm kiss into his soft lips. He groaned into your mouth, chasing you as you tried to pull away. Indulging him for a few more seconds, he whines as you actually pull away this time.
“Ominis.” You pant his name into his mouth, he gasps and unconsciously rolls his hips forward, looking for friction.
“Yes, darling.” He looked like a man starving. His hands had tucked themselves behind your knees, trembling from the effort of maintaining a sliver of his composure.
“Ominis I-”
“I’m heading out to run a few errands for Professor Weasley, do you or Master Gaunt need Deek to get anything?” You and Ominis were startled out of your private little world, jumping apart for fear of Deek seeing you in such a compromising position.
Your brain fought through the foggy haze it'd settled in, and quickly answered Deek. “We’re ok Deek. Just talking. Take your time! No rush to come back.”
You waited until you heard the elf apparate out of the room, looking around for somewhere to conceal you both, should Deek return too soon. You hear the familiar sound of the room changing itself to accommodate your needs.
Ominis yelped and covered his head, and you spotted a door forming on the far wall. The door swung open on its own, revealing a spacious bedroom on the other side.
“What the hell just happened?” You turned back to Ominis to see him peeking out from under his arms comically, in great contrast to his previous behavior. Ominis lowers his arms at the sound of your amused laughter, pouting a bit. You brush the back of his hand with yours and he quickly captures it in his.
“Uh, well, it seems like the room thought we needed a more…private place to finish our conversation.” You looked away blushing, but quickly turned back when you felt an impatient tug on your hand.
“I can’t find it. Show me.” You could hear the barely contained neediness in Ominis’s voice. Realizing Ominis didn’t have his wand, you start searching the ground around you.
“Ominis, your wand-”
“Don’t care. We’ll look later.” Getting impatient, he starts dragging you in a random direction.
Laughing once more, you redirect him towards the open door, spotting a fully furnished master bedroom, attached bathroom and all. Ominis waits for the sound of the door closing, before crowding you against it, trapping you with his body. His hands cradle your face once again, forcing you to look into his stunning silver eyes. He looks like it pains him to keep your lips apart, but he resists the temptation with furrowed brows, waiting. “Well?”
You want to laugh at his ridiculous question, but your voice comes out closer to a sob. “Do you even have to ask? I think you know very well that I’m yours, that I have been for-” He didn’t even let you finish before slamming his mouth down onto yours. Hands quickly trailing down to your thighs before hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips. You exchanged pleased sighs and hungry moans, your tongues dancing to the tune.
You fought to stay together as long as possible, becoming lightheaded as your lungs screamed for air. Ominis only tore himself away to suck in a deep breath, panting a desperate ‘I love you’ against your lips before diving back in. You lost track of how long you stayed entangled, exchanging I love you’s between sweet kisses and gentle touches, your intense fervor for one another slowly cooling to a low simmer.
At some point Ominis had carried you to the bed, where you currently lay facing each other, basking in the other's arms. Your fingers ran through his hair as he placed lazy kisses on your neck and collar bone, purring a quiet ‘I love you’ after each one. You sighed contentedly, thinking about how far you’d both come from that very first meeting.
You laughed quietly to yourself, prompting a curious hum from Ominis, who continued his slow ministrations.
“You wanna know something?” Your voice was barely audible, afraid to break the peaceful atmosphere too soon.
“What’s that, my darling?” Ominis whispered the words into your shoulder, placing a light kiss on it right after.
You fought to keep the shit eating grin off your face, not wanting Ominis to get suspicious at the change in your tone. “The day we first met, when I came over to help you with your assignment?”
“Mhmm?” Another kiss behind your ear.
“Sebastian actually caught me staring at you.” You huffed out an amused laugh. “He’s very protective, tried picking a fight with me.” Ominis chuckled with you, running the tip of his nose along your jaw, quiet for a moment.
“What were you thinking about?” You smirked to yourself, knowing you’d caught him.
“When?” You put on an innocent act, pretending you didn’t know what he was asking.
He huffed another amused laugh against your cheek. “When you were ogling me shamelessly across the library.” His hand was gliding gently down your arm, coming to rest on your hip.
“Well…” You finally allowed the wide grin to spread itself across your face, making sure he’d be able to hear the taunting lilt to your voice. “I was thinking about how pretty you’d look with your dick in my mouth.”
Ominis barked out a surprised laugh, pulling you tighter against him and hiding his red face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the wide, happy grin he pressed into your skin, shoulders shaking with laughter. He brought his teeth to your ear, biting it gently in retaliation, causing you to squirm as he trapped you against his chest.
“You naughty thing.”
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sswiftiestars · 6 months
Text
sam monroe x female reader hcs
some mentions of sex, drugs, alcohol, prostitution + angst and fluff
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sam monroe would glare at you as you looked at him from across the room, trying to scare you away.
sam monroe would eventually become friends with you after you practically forced yourself into the poor boys life.
sam monroe was very confused that a girl—especially one like you—would ever want to be friends (or more) with him of all people, i mean, he’s goth, and he isn’t nessicarily masculine. little did he know, you adore his eyeliner, his piercings, and his clothing
sam monroe quickly became infatuated with you, obsessed with the time you would spend with him, even if it was a quick conversation about how your best friend fucked the popular jock.
sam monroe struggles with drugs— and you weren’t aware of this until a few months into your friendship with him, you immediately tried helping him, but he pushed you away.
sam monroe invited you to his house one day after school. as soon as you two were in his room alone together, something clicked inside of you two, and sam immediately clinged himself onto you and it ended up in some..intimate activities.
sam monroe opened up to you a bit more after he found out his father has cancer, and he stayed at your house for a bit, and refused to leave your bed for a week. eventually you got him out of bed with a promise that you would let him fuck you in the shower. that horny fuck.
sam monroe was convinced by josh to try prostitution for one night— in order to get drug money. you were shocked when he came running to your house in tears, babbling about how “he made a huge mistake” and that “he promises he’ll never do it again.” it ruined his self esteem a lot, and once you found out what really happened, you made sure he never took any drug again.
sam monroe and you had a awkward friends-but-still-knew-you-both-liked-eachother phase. it consisted of you and him never outright saying you were dating, but you both knew what was what.
(sam monroe did convince you to let him still smoke weed, though)
sam monroe has a big dick.
sam monroe loves deftones and muse
sam monroe let’s you boss him around and yell at him, (even in bed)
sam monroe hates parties— he hates getting drunk, mainly because of the hangover. he surprisingly hates the loud music, the bright lights, and the many amounts of people. he would much rather have a quiet night watching star wars with you.
sam monroe loves to cuddle you, nuzzling your chest and biting you playfully
sam monroe loves when you show him off. sam loves when you attach your mouth to his neck and use his skin as a canvas for your art.
sam monroe loves doing his makeup with you. even though he only wears eyeliner, he still finds it enjoyable.
sam monroe loves blowing smoke into your mouth
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hannie-dul-set · 5 months
Text
HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [8].
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SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).
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PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, vomit, heeseung is sick, tormenting said sick man, sex jokes, and loser hee backstory reveal. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.
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NOTE. merry christmas. my gift for u all is the heeseung chapter. let's pretend that it's still summer for the sake of the fic yes thank u hope u enjoy.
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 8 — hot, drenched, and sweaty.
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“I THINK HEESEUNG IS IN A FIGHT CLUB.” That unprompted statement catches the interest of all the four boys currently in the living room. Soobin looks up from his half-finished crocheted bonnet, Jake and Jay pause their game of scrabble, and Sunghoon drops a rubik’s cube on your face because you gallantly decided to use his lap as a pillow on the lounge sofa. 
“Oh god, I’m— I’m sorry,” he sputters out an apology. You take this as a sign to stop invading his space. “What do you mean though? Fight club? Heeseung?”
“Listen.”
You spring up from your position, sitting with a very determined look on your face which simply prompts their attention further. “Heeseung leaves the house at exactly 10 p.m. every Saturday night and comes back at like two in the morning. I asked him about is once, and all he said is that he’s doing ‘business,’ whatever the fuck that means. It’s suspicious as hell.” 
The only reason why you were up at 2 a.m. to catch him in the act in the first place is because one time, you challenged Beomgyu and Jake to a no-sleeping contest and those two are the most gullible and have the most money from the lot. Little did those suckers know that you slept for fifteen hours prior to challenging them. They dozed off at the thirty six hour mark while you were still awake enough to catch Heeseung sneaking into the house at the devil’s hour.
After that, you had more money in your bank account, and a new curiosity that’s begging to be satisfied.
“I think he’s in an underground fighting club,” you declare. “There’s no other reason.”
“No, no,” Jay contends. “It might be something else. He could be a stripper.”
A silent moment of consideration.
Then you all release a unified, “Nah.”
“Maybe it’s private,” says Sungoon. “What—whatever it is, it could be none of our business.”
He has a point, but you’re nosy and bored. So are Jake and Jay because turns out, today’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and you’re acquitted from any charges of instigating things because it’s Jay who announces, “Should we follow him?”
You grin. Sunghoon doesn’t approve of your expression. “We should follow him.”
“I’ll keep a lookout.”
“Text us when he’s about to leave.”
“You got it.”
Thus starts your mission of finding out whether Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper. Sunghoon refused to be a part of it, but Soobin wasn’t strong enough to deny your puppy dog eyes, so it’s you, him, Jake, and Jay who might be charged for stalking and invasion of privacy because the moment you get a signal from Jake that “the target is out of the house, over,” the four of you, willingly or otherwise, start to tail him.
It’s disconcertingly easy to follow Heeseung without him noticing the four not so discreet people lagging behind him. When he takes off on a bus, you quickly hail a taxi for the four of you to jump inside of and continue the trail. 
“I think—I think we should head back,” says Soobin, squeezing his arms against his torso because there are three of you cramped in the backseat. “The sky is glum. I think it’s gonna rain.”
“The sky is glum because it’s the fucking night. Mr. Sun has died. Wait, he just got off the bus. Let’s go, let’s go before we lose him!”
As you stalk down the sidewalk, you can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu because you swear you’ve crossed this same path before. You’ve been here before. You’re sure of it, and it’s not just because this area is just around your university, of which you haven’t stepped foot on since the beginning of summer and since living with Jake and his friends.
“Hey, he’s over there, he’s going to that cafe.”
Your deja vu is answered when the familiar facade of The Lounge shows up right before you. Heeseung enters the building. Sunghoon knew all along, that fucking rat. That’s why was so against this plot, that’s why he refused to tag along with you. “I’m going in,” says Jay. You postpone your revenge plan against Sunghoon for later and quickly follow behind Jay into the cafe. Once you enter however, it starts pouring.
The clear glass windows of the place get stained by an assault of raindrops. Crap. None of you brought an umbrella. “I knew it was going to rain…” Soobin laments, and you pat circles against his back to apologize for doubting him, further telling him that he has a knack for weather prediction and if he’s considering switching career paths.
“What now?” Jake asks.
“We can wait for the rain to stop or call Sunghoon to pick us up and bring us umbrellas,” you tell them. “For now, let’s find out what the fuck Lee Heeseung is up to here. This wasn’t part of any of our calculations.” The calculations being either violence or promiscuity. You didn’t make a lot of calculations.
The problem is, Heeseung is nowhere to be found. You end up ordering some drinks and food and decide to settle in a booth at the corner of the place so that you guys can have a full and complete view of the cafe’s entire interior, yet you still can’t find him, so you end up reminiscing the time Sunghoon dumped your lemonade on you which catapulted your hobby of messing with these guys because they become so nervous around you it’s funny.
“Did we enter the wrong building? Did he catch us tailing him and left through the back door?!” 
You doubt Jake’s presumptions, and you’re correct to doubt him because right at that moment, Heeseung finally shows his stupid fucking face.
Not only does he show his stupid fucking face— he shows his stupid fucking face on the mini stage in the other corner of the cafe with a freaking guitar. What? So he’s not an underground fighter? Heeseung leans into the mic and a singular “ah,” resounds from the speakers mounted on the walls, muting down the muffled sound of the rain outside in that single instant.
When Heeseung starts to play the instrument followed by the sound of his voice, the rain is forgotten entirely.
This is a surprise. This is unexpected.
“This is disappointing,” says Jay, and you snap your head at him with eyes wide in alarm and disbelief because what does he mean disappointing? Disappointing where? You’ve been living with an angel all this time and you didn’t know? 
“Yeah, it’d be cooler if he was in a fight club,” Jake adds, as if their friend isn’t putting the Billboard’s Hot 100 to shame right now. What kind of bullshit are they saying?
“Did you guys know he could sing like that?”
The three look at you, even Soobin, and respond with a yes, a nod, a hum. Your mouth gapes. But you don’t get why you’re surprised when these guys have known each other for years prior to you barging in unannounced— so, of course they know, of course you don’t, and in the midst of all this, your thoughts are interrupted by the sharp screech from the speakers, because Heeseung has stopped singing, and is instead now looking at your table, looking more alarmed than you.
You’re pretty sure your eyes met before he decided to bolt out of the cafe.
“Oh, he’s getting off stage. Maybe he’s going to greet u— why is he skipping our table? Why is he running outside? Hyung, wait!”
None of you end up chasing after him because it’s still pouring outside, and you can already predict what the aftermath of this is going to be. Thus concludes your mission of finding out whether or not Heeseung is secretly an underground fighter or a stripper, with the answer amounting to neither because Heeseung is a performer during The Lounge’s open mic nights, and you don’t get why he’s been acting so secretive about it all this time.
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Heeseung wakes up feeling like shit. And not the regular kind of shit. He feels like Satan just chewed him up, only to spit him back out— slobber and the inferno’s of hell included because he’s sweating through his shirt, his blanket feels like a prison, but if he kicks it of, he gets attacked by cold flashes, so he’s in a sticky and uncomfortable limbo between overheating and freezing to fucking death.
His throat is dry. The only thing that escapes his throat is a guttural and inhuman rasp. He wouldn’t be this sick if he didn’t run out in the rain last night. 
Rather, he wouldn’t have ran out if you weren’t there last night.
Heeseung rolls to his side with a groan of pain and anguish, muffled against the pillow as a different kind of fevered heat washes over his face. Seriously. Why the fuck were you there last night? He could give less than two shits if his roommates find out that he sings Taylor Swift every weekend at The Lounge, but you— you’re a different story. Because he knows you’re gonna use this information against him somehow, just like how you like to fuck around with his friends.
Too much. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much for him. The time you chased Beomgyu around the house in the dress(?) Jay made is the only evidence he needs to affirm that.
Then again, maybe he shouldn’t have bolted out like that immediately after meeting your eyes. You already suspect that you gross him out (which, by the way, couldn’t be more wrong) for always running away from the threat of skin-to-skin contact with you. Why was it raining when it’s still summer, anyway? It’s like that night was a curse made especially for him.
He curls up further into a ball, hoping you just forget about it all and don’t question him about it.
Yet the very opposite happens because what interrupts his spiraling thoughts is the sound of your voice— already threatening a wave of torment.
“Oh, god. You’re in a worse state than I thought.”
Heeseung regrets springing up from his bed because his head immediately gets slammed by the recoil of a headache. “Why...why are you here?” he barely scratches out. You’re by the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes laced with pity. He didn’t even hear the door opening. 
“Jake told me about your illness,” you say, walking over to the side of his bed and Heeseung flinches back the moment you set yourself down on the mattress. “He said you have a chronic case of bitchless syndrome.
He looks at you. Your face is dead serious. Heeseung feels a drop of sweat trickling down his neck, then you break into that devious smile of yours and laugh out a grin.
“Kidding. Jake would never say that. He told me you were sick and needed someone to nurse you up, so here I am.”
Holy shit. Heeseung lets out a breath, nearly teetering off his bed to maintain a comfortable enough distance from your overwhelming presence. “Why—” some throat phlegm cuts him off. He lets out a violent cough before reclaiming his voice. “Why you? I—I mean, why did Jake ask you?”
“Ouch?” you remark. “No one else is around. Jake’s out hiking, apparently. Sunghoon’s covering someone’s shift. Beomgyu’s obviously still at his parents. Jay says he’s out on a mission, and Soobin left the house with a giant backpack. I was too afraid to ask. Anyway, I know my very physical presence disgusts you, but deal with it for now, you goober. You look like hell.”
“That’s— that’s not—” You take this opportunity to pull his sweaty blanket off in one swift movement. “That’s not it! You don’t— don’t disgust me, I’m just— you know—”
“I know, I just wanted to fuck with you.”
You’re grinning. You haphazardly fold the sheet before throwing it down to the foot of the bed, sitting over it. Heeseung feels the blood drain from his face— “Anyway, sit up and let me feel you up,” —only for the blood to shoot right back up and nearly knocks him out unconscious. “Feel your temperature up, perv. I’m not taking advantage of a sick man. C’mere, let me see how sick you are.”
Heeseung, however, still has enough marbles to quickly evade your incoming hand. He swerves to the right. You blink at him, arm reaching out to thin air, before trying again, only for Heeseung to swat your hand away with gritted teeth and fearing for his life. “S—sorry,” he chokes out. He sees the glint in your eyes. Crap. He shouldn’t have done that.
“For fuck’s sake, just let me check your temperature— Heeseung! What the hell?!”
“Just—just leave me alone!”
Earlier, Heeseung thought he was about to die. He didn’t think he had enough strength to fight for his life as he squirms underneath you on the bed, driven solely by the desire to protect his fucking pride because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you touch him when he’s all gross and sweaty and gross from the fever. There’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen.
“What are you—”
He yanks out his blanket from underneath you, causing you to roll of his bed and he throws the sheet over his red, hot, and burning face because holy fuck. Holy shit. That was a close call.
When he peeks out from the blanket, Heeseung instantaneously feels a threat to his life.
You’re glaring at him. You look like you want to skin him alive and he gulps and nudges himself away, ass nearly falling off the bed when you get up from the floor and dust yourself off. “Okay,” you huff. “Fine. Have it your way. Die from a heatstroke, or whatever the fuck. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, and if you do, I’m expecting you to get down on your knees and beg because every time you’ve swatted my hand away was an additional jab at my pride.”
Okay, damn. You leave his room, not without slamming his door close to emphasize your anger, and on top of feeling like absolute crap, Heeseung now also feels guilty as hell. 
“Fuck,” he rasps out. It’s not like he’s doing it out of malice, or hate, or because he thinks you’re a germ that he cannot touch, like you always accuse him with. Heeseung still remembers how his whole no touching quirk started: sixteen years-old, when Heeseung finally mustered the courage to hold his first girlfriend’s hand, only for her to laugh and joke and pull away while saying, “ew, gross. Your hand is all sweaty.”
Twenty-two year old Heeseung has been traumatized to this very day.
Especially now when he’s all disgusting and icky and very much ew and gross because of his fever. Stupid, he knows, but the last thing he’d want to see is a disgusted grimace from your face the moment the back of your hand presses against his damp and sticky, sickness-induced forehead. However, it seems like he’s been inflicting to you the very injury he’s been trying to protect himself by constantly avoiding the threat of contact of your skin against his.
Stupid. It’s really stupid. 
But he can’t avoid dehydration by simply ignoring the dryness of his mouth. With much struggle, Heeseung forces himself out of the bed, despairing the amount of stairs he has to climb down— and the suggestion of calling for you help does tease his brain for a split second, but decides against it with a shake of his head as he continues the awful trip to the living room, body weighing thirty times heavier, and skull feeling like it’s about to crack itself open.
The problem is, his skull does almost end up getting cracked open. Because as he’s finally nearing the bottom floor, he misses a step, causing him to hit the ground with a harsh thud.
“Ugh,” he grunts, pushing himself with his forearms, but he stops, nearly face planting into the floor once more because you’re there, you’re walking up to him, looking down at him, and holding a cold and refreshing glass of water above his head like some sort of fucked up display of powerplay against a sick and thirsty man.
“Need any help?” you hum. 
“I’m fine,” Heeseung tries once more to get up only to feel the nausea rise up to his head, and he stops, pauses, and decides that the floor is more comfortable after all. He looks up at you. “Can I...can I get a sip from your glass?”
There’s a glint in your eyes. You crouch down. “Sorry, what was that?”
Are you enjoying this? Do you like watching him in pain? (Likely answer is yes because you yourself have admitted that you enjoy their suffering and torment). “Water,” he rasps out. “Can I drink some of your water?”
“This?” You swirl the glass in your hand, ice clacking against the crystal, before taking a long, tortuous sip on the straw (why does it have a straw?) Heeseung swallows down his spit. “Say please,” you say with a smile. Heeseung chokes on said fucking spit and hacks out a cough because you’re fucking insane.
He feels his face grow hotter. And it’s definitely not just from the fever.
“P—please, give me some of your water.”
You don’t prolong his agony any further and hand him over the glass.
“Need any help getting up?” you ask as you watch him agonizingly sit up against the bottom steps and toss down the water into his throat in one shot as if it was at a company dinner. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and feels your disappointed stare pricking his conscience. “I can’t help you unless you ask me to, Heeseung.”
He frowns, deflating. “But I’m all gross and sweaty.”
The last thing he expects you to do is to roll your eyes at him and stand up with an arm stretched out. 
And the next thing he knows is that you’re lugging him over to the couch, an arm around his waist, his around your shoulder, and you set him down the cushions with a grunt. “Jeez, I’m not made for manhandling men,” you say, very dubiously. “Lie down.” And when he doesn’t lie down, wide-eyed and unresponsive, you poke his forehead and he tips back, falling into the couch.
What…what is going on...
“You know, I’m very tempted to ask you to take your shirt off just to laugh at your reaction, but you actually look like you’re about to die, so I decided against it. Aren’t I sweet?” 
You’re back with a basin and some towels (when did you disappear?) and Heeseung’s brain starts malfunctioning, growing dizzier and dizzier by the second when you touch his jaw, damp towel wiping off the sweat coating his face and neck and he feels his throat tightening. “Christ. I think your temp is over forty degrees, my guy,” you say, squeezing the towel over the basin. “Hello? Heeseung? What the hell, did you catch Sunghoon’s disease? Are you unable to talk to me now, too?”
“It’s—it’s not that,” he chokes out. He’s about to justify himself, but you press your palm against his forehead, cutting off all the oxygen pipes leading up to his brain, and he feels like passing the fuck out.
Shit. Shit. Holy shit. 
“Ah,” you say. “You’re not running away.”
He’s not. He’s not running away. But he feels a different sort of problem coming up.
“I think I’m gonna throw up.”
You blink at him. This doesn’t help his case at all.
“Wow, this is an upgrade,” you say from the other side of the bathroom door while Heeseung pukes his guts out into the toilet. Heavy metal playing from his phone is trying to block the noises out. He’s heaving over the bowl and wants to kill himself from embarrassment. “Now my very presence makes you vomit. I’m sorry for everything so far.”
There’s a flush. The music stops. Heeseung cracks the door open and you pass him a glass of water without some bedroom-esque powerplay this time. “Seriously, why did you run off into the rain last night? Look where it got you.” It’s a shocker that you haven’t told him he’s gross yet. You’re standing there in front of the bathroom and in front of the mess of his post-vomit presence, and all you’re doing is looking at him in worry. 
“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be there,” he says, still sounding like death, and you take the now empty glass from him and head over to the kitchen, pointing at his makeshift deathbed on the couch. 
“I wasn’t expecting you to give Mariah Carey a run for her money, either.” After you place the glass into the sink, you’re back to the living room. He’s down on the sofa, eyelids heavy, unable to say or do anything when you push back his hair to place a damp towel on his forehead. “Like damn, I knew you guys have known each other for a while now, but I totally felt like an outsider when I was the only one surprised to hear you sing.”
You’re not making fun of him. You don’t make a comment about how sticky his skin feels or how gross his sweat-drenched shirt is.
“I like your voice. Too bad it sounds like shit right now, but you should let me hear you again once you feel better.” The doorbell rings. “Oh, right, I ordered some porridge. You can feed yourself, right? Hold on, let me get it.”
He hears your footsteps padding across the floor, unable to find the strength to open his eyes as the coolness of the cloth seeps into his forehead. Heeseung has always thought you were a bit too much— case in point, everything that just happened and all the other times you’ve teased, tormented, and actively tortured to the point of tears all the inhabitants of this god forsaken house. 
Yet it is also your excessive nature that has let Sunghoon speak more than five words around you, that has stopped Beomgyu from hermitting in his room twenty-four-seven, that has helped Soobin and Jay in two very important instances this summer, and has allowed Jake to offer you a spot in their lives after leaving that room on the third floor empty for a good two years.
“Fuck, I can’t believe they left me behind with a sick man when I can barely even take care of myself.”
You’re back. He opens his eyes and tries to lift himself up but his body is way too heavy. “Uh,” he says. “Can you…please…open the container for me?” He doesn’t miss your amused fucking grin when he mumbles out the please.
“Ah. Open up.”
Heeseung has always felt you were too much. Maybe it’s his fever talking, maybe it’s not, but maybe too much exactly what he needs right now.
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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ashwhowrites · 7 months
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Eddie dating Cheerleader! Y/N she has fallen hard for him, until she heard that one cheerleader was with Eddie last night, and Reader is shocked and hurt, and she starts to ignore him, and she doesn't want anything to do with him, she goes to Steve, and he tells her that maybe she should listen to Eddie to know what he wants to say to her, and she takes his advice and she finds out that the girl wanted a date with Eddie or even wanted Eds to date her in secret but Eddie didn't wanted that because he wanted reader, so she starts to cry from the stress and Eddie thinks she's more pissed at him, and she just hugs Eddie and end up watching movies and cuddling, the next day reader and Chrissy make the cheerleader leave the team for being so mean.
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I felt like these two kinda were similar so I'm combining it! I hope that's alright <3
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Eddie Munson was the forbidden fruit in the school, all the popular girls secretly wanted him. They wanted to see who had the looks to break him down and cave in. He was sworn off because he had a hatred for them. But that all just made them want him even more. To prove they were better than any of the other girls. It was a dog-eat-dog world.
And Eddie had no idea all these cheerleaders secretly wanted him and fantasized about him. His eyes were set on just one, Y/N. The only girl that made him eat his words about hating cheerleaders. It was so hard to hate her when her tongue was in his mouth and her skirt was on his floor. He tried to fight it at first, but he found himself tripping into her.
Y/N already liked him, simply why she went for it. She heard the gossip around the cheerleading squad. How they all wanted him to see what he was like in bed, and just to brag about how they made Eddie Munson change his mind. She didn't care about that. She liked him, and she knew she liked him as a person. She was surprised he agreed to a date, but glad he said yes. Ever since they've been on dates every week, spending every day together, and sleepovers on the weekends. She was rolled up in him and she didn't want anything different....well maybe something different. She wanted to be official.
And the recent rumor she heard, she wished she made it official a long time ago.
~~~
"Do you think he really did it?" Chrissy asked, sitting on the floor across from Y/N as she sobbed in the locker room.
"You heard her! She talked about how they fucked all night long. Eddie never called me last night and he always does. He apologized this morning and said Wayne didn't pay the phone bill. But what if he lied? What if he was busy with her?" Y/N panicked, her eyes wide as she couldn't breathe.
"Okay, let's calm down. And breathe. Eddie is nuts about you and Kathy is a whore. No one likes her and she's a bitch. How could Eddie even think about her when he has you? I think you should talk to him. And for Kathy, I'll deal with her once we find out what happened." Chrissy said, wrapping her arms around Y/N.
"I'll talk to him." Y/N whispered.
But once she made it out of the locker room, and was face to face, she ran.
"Y/N?" Eddie yelled after her, he was worried because it seemed like she was crying.
"HEY! ARE YOU OKAY?" he yelled again, but she made it to her car before he reached her, driving out of the parking lot.
He sighed and got in his van, driving straight to her house. He pulled up slightly seconds behind her, her legs walking fast to get into her house and slamming the door behind her.
Eddie wasn't sure what was wrong, but it almost felt like he was the problem. She refused to open the door for him. He's seen her cry before and he's helped. So he knew she wasn't just hiding because of that. She was hiding because of him.
~~~
The next day Eddie tried again. But she gave him the cold shoulder whenever he got close. She ignored his calls and never opened her door. He was lost in what he did and he hated that he couldn't even ask.
So he asked Chrissy
~~~
"I don't know, I want to believe she was lying. But how can I be so sure?" Y/N stressed, Steve listened as he stocked the shelves.
"As someone who has been cheated on, and sees the signs. Eddie isn't cheating. You said it yourself that the squad is dying to get their claws in him. She probably made it up so she could get to him next. That boy adores you. Talk to him."
~~~
Y/N pulled up to her spot with Eddie, a hill that overlooked the town. He already sat on a blanket and had a couple of beers next to him. She took a deep breath and sat next to him. This was their spot and the thought comforted her.
"Chrissy told me what happened," Eddie said, his voice sad as he looked at her. But she was too embarrassed to look at him.
"And I'm not mad at you for believing her, I want you to know that."
"But you should! I ignored you and treated you like crap all because I thought you were with her. I didn't let you explain. I painted you a bad guy without a second thought." She cried, she hated that she believed he was evil so easily.
"Hey stop," Eddie cooed, wrapping his arm around her as she tucked into his chest. "You were hurt and sometimes we can't think clearly when that happens. But I want you to know there's no one else I want." His voice was soft as he kissed her head.
"I was so scared that I lost you before I could even fully have you." She confessed, her eyes looking at the stars as he stayed on her.
"Not going to lose me. And definitely not going to lose me to someone else. She flirted with me and I blew her off. She probably wanted to hurt you because she was mad. But what we have is strong and no cheer bitch will ruin it." Eddie joked, feeling the relief in his chest as she laughed.
"I think I love you, Munson." She whispered, looking up at him as she rubbed his cheek.
"I know that I love you." He smiled, leaning down as he connected his lips with hers.
After that night, everything was fixed. Eddie and Y/N were official. Always hand in hand. And for Kathy, Chrissy kicked her off the team.
Because as Eddie said, no cheer bitch would ruin what they had.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @ahsrulez420 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
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ellieluvr420 · 3 months
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Friends? Never. Pt.4 (Ellie Williams x reader)
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SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.
"I don't know. They both look nice."
"You are so useless you know that? I have shown you five outfit choices and you have said the same about every single one. I need help." You whine.
"I don't know what to tell you they all look nice on you. You look good in all of them so just pick your favourite."
"Was that actually a compliment Williams?"
"No fuck off." Ellie stands from her slouched position on the sofa subtly looking you up and down but not subtly enough you don't see it, you feel hot under her gaze, even her stony glare caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, the feeling sickened you. You had 5 hours until you were due at your parents but the anxiety had already taken over your body. You had been wiping your palms on your pyjama shorts periodically since you woke up, your body had a constant tremble and the colour in your face had drained. Ellie had walked into you having breakfast in the kitchen and questioned if you were ill because of your appearance. You didn't understand why now? Why after two years of pretending you didn't exist did your parents want to talk to you? You just felt sick and Ellie's nonchalance over your outfit options were not helping.
"Ellie please just help me pick an outfit. I already feel like I'm going to throw up."
"Why does it fucking matter what you wear? Who are you trying to impress? Your parents? The ones that kicked you out? Are you not embarrassed by yourself?" She spat the words out without even making eye contact before strolling out of the living room up to her room. You stand frozen contemplating her words as a single tear escapes its prison fleeing down your cheek, she was right really, it's pathetic but they're your parents.
This is a normal reaction, right?
Ellie threw herself down on the bed running her hands over her face. She knew she shouldn't have said that, it was mean and cruel and you looked the most beautiful in the third outfit choice that you had picked because your smile was beaming and you were giving playful twirls to show all angles of your favourite outfit. She should've just told you how beautiful you looked and told you to wear that one but she couldn't because she felt like she was supporting you going to your parents house and she just couldn't do that to you. Granted she never saw how them kicking you out went but she was told and when she saw you going back to that house, in her mind all she could picture was you being thrown out of there by your hair and left to cry on the ground. She'd rather leave Jackson than see you forgive them for that. Ellie told herself that was the only reason she didn't want you to go, but she was lying to herself and she knew that because the thought of you moving out to move back in with them sent her into a spiral so deep she felt like she'd never recover from the dizziness. She had just got you back and not only was she blowing it because she can't get out of her own way but she might actually lose you to them a second time. She felt a familiar sting behind her eyes that she refused to let escalate so she practically ran to the bathroom for a cold shower. She had been having cold showers a lot recently, it never got easier but maybe that was why she needed it.
You hadn't spoken to Ellie again that day until just before you were leaving for your parents. You had decided to wear the third outfit you had shown Ellie as you felt the most confident in it and as you walked past her sitting on the sofa she called your name.
"What Ellie?"
"You look really nice."
"Thanks."
She went to speak again, to say she was sorry and she didn't mean anything she said, to tell you she hopes it goes well, but you were out the door before she got the chance. She sighed and tried to focus on her film once again but all she could think about was what your parents were going to say to you.
"Thanks for coming baby." Your mum smiles softly at you from her place across the table as you avoid eye contact as you had since you walked into your old home. The dinner so far had been quiet, it was obvious they had something to say but they were both holding back, it angered you more by the second until you slammed your fork down onto the table and finally made eye contact with your mother and then your father for the first time all evening.
"Why have you asked me here? You've had no issue pretending I don't exist for two years so what do you want now?" You look at them hopefully, all you were wishing for was them to say that they were sorry and they were wrong, that they accept and love you no matter what. Over the course of the day you had actually managed to convince yourself that is what they would say, so much so that you had considered what you would do if that was the case, you had already decided you would continue living with Ellie but start trying to see them regularly and build your relationship back up gradually but the hopefulness and the illusion you had created for yourself immediately shattered as your dad uttered his next words.
"We thought if we cut you off you would eventually come to your senses and end this silly little phase of yours but its become clear that we were wrong to take that approach. Your mother and I think it would be best if you move away from that girl and come live with us. We can help you darling, make you right again." As he says his last sentence he places his hand over yours and squeezes.
Your heart broke. Shattered into tiny pieces that you feared would never find their way back to each other.
You felt every nerve in your body pulsing, you could barely choke out a breath, the family home you had always loved and cherished was no longer a safe haven filled with joy and love it was the darkest place you feel you could ever find yourself in. You don't even realise you've began to cry until a droplet lands on your arm, you look down to see your dads hand still firmly planted on yours and all of a sudden it felt like the whole arm was burning. As you slap his hand away and kick your chair back so hard it topples over your parents both rise with equally dissatisfied looks on their faces, they were looking at you like you were a child throwing a temper tantrum.
"Why can't you just accept me as I am? I'm nineteen and you're still treating me like a child that doesn't know my left and rights. Why can't you just love me? Why is your love conditional?" You're screaming but the noise barely reaches your ears, your parents rebuttals are blurred by the heavy humming in your ears. Their lips were moving but no sound was coming out, you were deaf to their pleads, their reasoning, you were deaf to it all, all you could focus on was leaving and going back home to Ellie. You know you're moving because you're no longer in the dining room, you're yanking the front door open and storming out but you can't feel anything, you feel numb, there's nothing inside of you anymore, the only thing that had kept you going was the hope that one day your parents would love you again but that hope had been ripped away in a heartbeat and now all you feel is empty.
You can hear yelling, and the ground beneath you is hard but you don't remember falling to the floor, your vision is blurry, hazy from the floods of tears that still haven't slowed their plight down your cheeks, you try and focus on the sound of the yelling until it becomes coherent words.
"Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!" It's you, you're screaming, the only word your brain seems to know at the moment is Ellie so you just repeat it over and over until you see the blur of a figure running towards you.
"Hey, oh my god, what happened?" She bends down on the floor and scoops you into her arms, reflexively checking for cuts or bruises or something to signal that you're hurt, but there's nothing, nothing except for the look of despair that painted your face. "Come on talk to me, what happened?"
You couldn't find the words, there were none, your body trembled and shook with broken sobs until your throat was sore and there were no tears left to shed, Ellie's hand never stopping the gentle circles it was soothing on your back.
"My parents, they- they hate me." Your voice is quiet and broken as is Ellie's heart seeing you in this state.
"They don't hate you. They're stubborn and backwards and awful parents but they don't hate you." You chuckle dryly at her words but she remains soft-spoken and gentle with you like you're made of glass. It felt foreign, no one had ever been this way with you, you had never wanted or needed anyone to be this way with you but in this moment you could feel your heart picking up the shattered pieces trying to mend itself as she holds you. She wipes the stray few tears still dampening your cheeks before beginning to pull you up from the ground with her. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me what happened." She doesn't wait for your response simply starts walking with you until she plops you down on the sofa seating herself right next to you and looking defeatedly at the broken look on your face.
"I thought they wanted to make things better, try and rebuild our relationship but they just wanted me to move back in with them and away from you so they could- I don't know- convince me this is all just a phase and I'm not actually a lesbian. You should've seen it Ellie, they looked at me like I was a toddler screaming because I dropped my ice cream when I fought back, why can't they understand?"
"I don't know, Joel always said there were places around the country that were really against anyone being different, those mindsets never left people I guess. It's not your fault though and you shouldn't beg for them to be in your life when they've proved they don't deserve it."
"I just feel like such an idiot, I honestly thought they might want to try and fix our relationship and somehow this hurts more than when they kicked me out."
"You're not an idiot for hoping your parents would get over themselves and be good parents for once in their lives." She spits the words with a venom as she imagines your parents shaming you over and over again and making you feel like you were born wrong. "This isn't your fault." She places a hand on your thigh and squeezes to emphasise her words before you gently place your hand over hers and squeeze back with a small smile.
"Thank you Ellie, really, and sorry for screaming the house down."
"Don't even worry about it. You scared the shit out of me but I'll let you off this time."
"Oh how kind of you." You snarked back.
"Andddd she's back. Missed you." She smirks and winks before laughing as you roll your eyes and rise from the sofa, before she can question you, you tell her you need to have a shower and wash the day off you and she simply smiles and nods before you walk to the bathroom leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She wasn't relieved, she couldn't be because your heart had been broken again by your parents but as much as she tried to push the feeling down it kept coming back stronger, you're not moving out, she's not losing you to them again, she shouldn't be happy but she is and that only makes her feel worse so instead she tries to focus on something different, anything to take her mind off of the storm raging around her head.
"Come down here I have a surprise!" Ellie calls upstairs to you with a giddy look on her face.
You walk downstairs cautiously, half-expecting the surprise to be Ellie jumping out at you and scaring you, something she used to do a lot when you were younger but when you come face to face with her at the bottom of the stairs you know that's not it.
"Close your eyes and hold my hands."
"Errrr-"
"Just do it. Please." She pleads with you and you defiantly shut your eyes and grab onto her hands as she starts leading you to the unknown.
"Ta-daaa!" She says it monotonously which causes you to giggle until you open your eyes, your breath hitches and you freeze.
"Oh my god. Ellie, are you serious?" Your face was like that of a child in a sweet shop as you take in the campfire set up in the woods that back onto your cabin complete with a blanket on the floor in front of it, Ellie's little metal tin that you recognise from the other night and a bottle of what you hope is very strong alcohol.
"Thought it would be like old times but better now because we can drink... and smoke." She mutters sheepishly as she fidgets with her fingers while looking at the ground where her foot shuffles the dirt underneath it. Under the light of the moon you can make out the rosy hue adorning her cheeks and the sight has you smiling the giddiest, toothiest grin you had done since as long as you can remember.
"Ellie... I don't know what to say."
"Oh don't go all soft on me now. Come on sit down I'll start the fire." She led you to the blanket and pushed you down before you could protest and then begins lighting the fire like she had always done when you were younger. Before long the fire is raging and you've drank enough that you know longer feel the chill of the cool night air.
You and Ellie both don't say much throughout the night, but the silence is comforting for once, it lets you breathe and process everything that had happened as well as you could when your mind was so hazy from the joint that you had shared and the bottle that was almost empty. You're swaying to music that no one else can hear before you pause feeling Ellie's eyes on you.
As you turn to face her, she doesn't look away, holding your gaze, you could've sworn she had leant in a little but you also could've sworn the world was spinning at this point in time so you're quick to dismiss the thought. She opens her mouth as if to speak but no words come out, only a small sigh and a shake of her head as if she was trying to shake away a thought buzzing around her like a fly.
"It's getting late and you've had a long day, you ready for bed?" You look at the dying fire and back at the girl before nodding and clumsily standing and holding a hand out to her. You only realise you overestimated your ability to balance right now as you're tumbling down to the ground on top of her as you failed to actually help her up. As the shock of the sudden movement subsides you both make eye contact as your noses practically touch from the proximity of your bodies, you expect her to push you off or at least laugh but she doesn't, she just returns your gaze like if you both look away from each other the world would end. Your knuckles brush against her soft, freckled cheek almost instinctively and she nestles into your touch until you both pause, your predicament finally dawning on you. You jump back as she clears her throat and sits up. "How about I help you up this time?" She chuckles.
"Yeah I think that might be for the best." You both walk inside, Ellie walking behind you up the stairs in case you stumble again until you reach your room where you turn around to meet her pink, tired eyes.
"Thank you for everything today, I really needed that. You're a good friend." You don't think about the words you use until you see a small pang of sadness that is gone as quick as it showed on Ellie's face being replaced by a quick smile.
"You're welcome, but seriously go to bed you look like you're gonna pass out any time now."
You blow a kiss as she rolls her eyes before stepping into your room and gently closing the door behind you. Ellie makes no move to retreat to her room at first, just standing staring at the wood of your closed door, she doesn't want this feeling to end and she's terrified that if she goes to sleep it will be ripped away from her never to be seen again, it had already happened once before when your parents had forced you both apart and she never recovered so she just stood staring at your door until she could pry herself away.
Ellie hadn't fallen asleep, she had tried to but there was too much going through her head, images of you being kicked out, you at dinner tonight, the dejected look on your face this morning when she snapped at you, the first time she saw you when you were spying on her as she arrived, the dinner where you bonded over music, the campfires you had made, when you laughed so hard at one of the worst jokes she had ever told you gave yourself a nose bleed. You were an infestation in her mind and all she could do was play the memories on a loop.
"Ellie are you awake?" Her head snaps up at the sound of your slurred voice coming from the other side of her door.
"Yeah, come in."
"Hey."
"You okay?"
"Errrr... yeah- yeah I'm fine. I just, I can't sleep and the other night when you stayed with me..." You trail off too embarrassed to finish your sentence as your eyes remain planted on the savage starlight poster above her bed, you had always loved listening to her rave about the comics, but she understands what you're saying and is kind enough to throw her sheet back and tap the space next to her in her bed.
You mutter a small thanks before climbing in and laying on your back until she whispers your name prompting you to turn and face her.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier-"
"It's okay-"
"Wait, I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean anything I said, you weren't stupid for trying to see the best in your parents and I have no idea how it feels to be in your position because Joel has never given a fuck, so I'm really sorry."
"It's okay Ellie, really, I forgive you."
"Thank you." Before long you're dozing off as Ellie follows quickly also as you're both spent from the day.
You wake as the golden sun pours through the window with a small groan until you pause noticing you aren't in your room, although you had never seen it before you knew it was Ellie's from the savage starlight posters and book case full of them as well as joke books and records, even the balled up clothing on the floor told you the room was Ellie's and as you turn to your side to see her auburn hair flowing freely over her pillows your stomach drops, the last thing you remember is being around the fire and now you're waking up in Ellie's bed. You quickly check and breathe a sigh of relief that your pyjama shorts and top are on your body and not part of the multiple piles of clothes on the floor. You attempt to crawl out of bed without waking Ellie to sneak out as you fear if you face the girl now you might just combust but as your hear your name being called meekly from the bed you grimace and turn to face the now sat up Ellie that was scratching at the back of her neck.
"Heyyyy."
"Didn't think you'd be the type to sneak off without saying goodbye." She smirks as she speaks and your face drops. "I'm kidding jesus. You came and got in bed with me last night because you said you couldn't sleep, we just went to bed that's all."
"Oh... Okay, well uhhhh thanks again for last night." You fumble for the door handle and yank the door open the second you find it. "I'm gonna go to errr... my room now sooooo, bye!" You step back walking straight into the doorframe and wincing unsubtly as she fails to stifle a laugh before you practically sprint away from her eyeline.
Ellie giggles at your open display of awkwardness that you had always been so good at hiding before falling back down to try and sleep off the throbbing headache she knew you would be suffering with ten times more.
tags: @radioheadfan699 @readbydayana @emiliabby
psa: i never really include descriptions of things to do with the reader like the outfit so that everyone can imagine whatever they want the reader to be wearing but if you’d prefer I add more detail in that respect please do let me know because I’m happy to either way <3
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explorevenus · 1 year
Text
domestic yandere bf!leon headcanons
and by domestic i just mean like no blatant kidnapping n shit like reader and leon have a legitimate relationship but reader has no idea how aggressively he’s pulling strings behind the scenes
btw i’ve had this written out on my laptop for literally two years so a lot of this is ‘something permanent’ adjacent but it’s not specific to that universe (for other obvious reasons skdfjivhes)
here we go:
leon is extremely protective like, to the degree of being paranoid. doesn't like when you go anywhere or do anything by yourself, which for most people would be suffocating, but leon was very strategic about implementing this very slowly over time. little do you know that this sentiment of his applies basically all the time, because what would happen if you were to slip and fall in the shower, or have a bad day at work, or anything else off of the infinite list of terrible things that could happen, and he wasn't there?
leon tries to convince you to quit your job and stay at home to let him take care of you, but you refuse, not wanting to have to rely on him completely, especially before you're married. so naturally he takes that very literally and shortly after you get married, leon has a word with your boss and you’re magically fired on the spot. this of course is a huge shock to you and leaves you extremely depressed, and therefore even more reliant on him.
leon is very controlling of you in subtle ways, but more than manipulative enough to disguise it as simply caring for or looking out for you. going to get something to eat? no need, i'll make it for you! having a shower? mind if i join you? just showering, i promise... you woke up with a tummy ache? call out of work and let me take care of you! your check engine light is on? it's not safe for you to take your car, looks like i'll be giving you rides for a while! no, honey, i don't know why your friends have gone cold and stopped reaching out. that's their loss. now we can spend more time together! he'll even go as far as to purposefully place your things in cabinets he knows you can't reach, just as an excuse to help you grab them when you inevitably need them.
leon has every device you own bugged and cloned, and therefore constant access to your every message, call, photo, and all of your socials, and your location, at all times. he doesn't check them incredibly often when he's home with you, but checks up on you constantly when he's away for work. it's not uncommon for you to conveniently receive a call from him whenever you leave the house, stay late at work, go somewhere other than straight home after work, etc etc
leon has cameras hidden fucking everywhere in your place. inside and outside of the front door, two in the kitchen, two in the living room, three in the bedroom, one in the bathroom, and not only can he check them any time, but he also keeps a good amount of the footage, particularly from the bedroom. for. definitely pure reasons. anyway, you already know he spends every second of his very limited free time on missions just watching you on the cameras. 
leon always wants you to be healthy and well, but he loves taking care of you when you’re sick. you get to call out of work and lay in bed all day while he tends to your every need, and in the hours you spend sleeping it off, he just gets to hold you, and pet your hair, and watch your face, listen to your weak breaths and the little noises you make sometimes. come to think of it, it sure is odd how often you seem to be coming down with colds, given how little time you spend outside of the house to begin with...
leon makes an effort to make you perceive your relationship and his actions as normal as possible. he is incredibly careful to keep this behavior under wraps, and will legitimately tell you anything if it means getting you off of his trail. with his government training in de-escalation, the man is a master manipulator and the CEO of successfully gaslighting. "How was visiting your friends today?" "It was good, how did you know I went to see them, though?" "You told me you were going to when I called this morning." "Did I?" "You did. Or maybe I'm the crazy one and I just made a lucky guess." "Well, I guess I must have, then. Though, between the two of us, I think we can agree I'm the crazy one. I can't seem to remember anything right." "That's why you have me to keep your head on straight, princess."
speaking of princess, pet names ! which he loves. he calls you princess, puppy, angel, doll, honey, baby... he didn't used to use them so often, but he quickly took notice of the liking you’d taken to it when he would, so it became a regular thing. anything to make you blush. you’re just too cute!
mkay we gotta talk about sex <33 under the cut NO MINORS
which leon likes to have very very frequently. obviously he's obsessed with you, and it typically only takes being in the room with you for ten full seconds for him to have a hard time fighting off the image of all the things he wants to do to you. he genuinely finds you attractive, irresistible even, in any condition, whether you’re dolled up for him or depressed in bed wearing the same shirt for three days straight, he's just obsessed with and praising of you and your body.
whiiiiich certainly translates through his love-making. a true master of foreplay, having learned every inch of your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly how to touch you in ways that grant him the most reaction out of you. this man will seriously edge himself for hours getting lost in playing with you, he's highly skilled at giving head and loves to do so. man’s a total munch. it's a relatively surefire way to get your attention for a while and he takes advantage of this often. 
finishing inside of you is practically a must for him, he finds it so intimate and the deepest way to connect with you and gift you a part of himself. he rarely, if ever, cums anywhere else, and when he does, it's usually on your stomach and/or thighs. i don't see him being particularly interested in actually having children though, considering that would mean taking a considerable amount of your attention and focus away from him, and he wants you all to himself.
^^^ lol anyway 
his fave position(s): missionary, so he can watch your face, but with enough convincing he'll let you ride him sometimes, because you want to-- not that he doesn't enjoy it, he just doesn't want you to have to do any of the work! he prefers to spoil you and just let you relax and enjoy yourself.
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eldritch-nightmare · 6 months
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Can we have headcanons where the reader gets scared of the pastas and try to run away?
a/n: yes you can!! decided to just do 5 creepypastas here just to ease myself back into writing. this isn't proofread btw
includes: jeff the killer, the bloody painter, eyeless jack, homicidal liu, and zalgo.
warnings: unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, mentions of cults, overprotective behavior, kidnapping, swearing, does this qualify as yandere? i think it does so, that's basically the gist of it, yeah.
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JEFF THE KILLER
Okay first of all, how fucking dare you? Second of all, how fucking dare you?
You should be scared, honestly.
I mean, honestly, what the hell were you thinking? You can't run away from him, you idiot. There's no escape. You're stuck with him! He thought you knew that already.
Apparently not, seeing as the lovely little cabin he was keeping you in was empty and the front door was wide open when he arrived.
You're not going to be able to calm him down when he eventually finds you. It doesn't matter how long it takes, or how far you've gotten. He will find you. You're his. You're not allowed to leave him, ever.
"Do you wanna fucking die?" Were the first words that came out of Jeff's mouth when he found you. You had been running through this damned forest for hours now, and it was when you finally decided to take a short break that he had caught up to you. It wasn't hard to find you, he knew these woods like the back of his hand.
The anger was heavy in his words and in his actions. His grip on you has always been tight, but this was worse. Your arm stung as his nails dug into your skin, dragging you closer to him. You tried to ignore the knife pressed against your side, but it was easier said than done.
You ran from him because you were scared of him. That was your excuse, as you struggled to get out of his grasp without getting yourself stabbed.
It definitely got a laugh out of him, one full of malice. Oh, you're scared? Big fucking deal, that doesn't mean you can up and leave him. And when he drags you all the way back to the cozy little cabin in the woods that he lovingly kept you locked away in, trust me, you'll regret ever trying to run away from him.
If you want him to leave you alone so badly, then so be it.
THE BLOODY PAINTER
He's a little annoyed, to be honest. He thought you loved him, so you running away from him certainly made him upset.
Helen didn't want you to be scared of him. He wanted you to love him, and he wanted to have a normal relationship with you.
But he supposes he isn't all that shocked. He's a serial killer, after all. It's not surprising that you wanted nothing to do with him.
The moment he realized you were gone, he was abandoning everything to hunt you down.
Even if you are scared of him, he can't let you leave him.
There was a look of heavy disappointment in Helen's expression when he found you. It's the most emotion you've seen on his face in the time that you've known him. He had you cornered, so you couldn't get away from that damned expression.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," He had said when you stumbled backward as he approached. Helen would never hurt you, so why are you so afraid of him? Can't you see that he loves you? Is it really that hard to trust him? He thought you loved him, so coming home to an empty house just... it hurt him a lot, can't you see?
He doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to take his hand so he can take you home.
But he won't hesitate to knock you out if you refuse to go willingly. He loves you so much, there's simply no way he can ever let you leave him. Besides, you know far too much. It would be risky if he let you go.
And when you wake up, you'll be confined to one room until he's certain you won't try and leave him again. He gets that you're scared, he truly does, but you need to behave.
EYELESS JACK
Feels genuinely guilty for maybe a solid 5 seconds before instincts take over.
Honestly, he's probably the only one here that will catch up to you immediately. He has a keen sense of smell, and you're his mate, so of course he's going to be able to find you with ease.
He doesn't like that you're scared of him. You were supposed to love him! You're mates! Why are you scared of him?
Like... actually genuinely confused as to why you ran away.
You could've just talked to him! Why'd you have to run?
Well, it's too late now. You chose to run, so he'll gladly chase you down to the ends of the earth if he must. He's not going to let you leave him, there's no chance.
The Jack you know is awkward, and stoic. But he's stressed to you many times that he loved you deeply. The Jack that crashed into you after spending hours hunting you down after you ran away was different.
Sometimes you forget that he was a little less than human because when he dragged you to the ground with him, his chest was heaving and he was barely able to contain the growl in his voice as he spoke, "I caught you."
His claws were digging into your skin, threatening to draw blood if you so much as squirmed underneath him. A subtle threat, one that you took very seriously.
It truly isn't his intention to scare you. He loves you more than you'll ever know. But you can't leave him. You can't. He needs you. The second he decided that you were the one for him, your fate was sealed. He refuses to let you leave him, no matter how scared of him you are. You'll learn to get over this fear, he's sure of it.
HOMICIDAL LIU
Oh. Yeah. Okay. Totally. That... that hurts, yeah. Don't get him wrong, he gets it. But ouch.
If he were in your position, he'd probably be scared as well. And for a brief moment, he considers letting you go but...
He can't. He just can't. He loves you too much to let you go, and it's just too dangerous for you to be out there in the world, where he can't protect you.
He's really good at tracking people down, it's basically his specialty, so you won't be able to get too far before he's behind you.
He knows you're scared. He gets it. He understands. But he's doing this for your own good. He hopes you'll come to understand that one day as well.
He had found you hours after you managed to sneak away from him, but he didn't make his presence immediately known. He was having an internal struggle, torn between letting you go and bringing you back into his arms. He didn't want you to hate him, but he couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt.
He made it quick, knocking you out before you had even realized he was there. And when you wake up, back in the safety of the little hideaway he keeps you in, you see Liu with an expression of pure and genuine guilt in his expression.
"I'm sorry." He had said, because he was.
Liu is doing this for your own good. He's just trying to keep you safe. If he had let you go, who knows what could've happened to you! You have a target painted on your back, and there's someone out there who wouldn't hesitate to kill you if it meant getting to Liu.
So, no. You can't leave him. He needs to keep you safe.
ZALGO
Yeah, good luck with that. The likelihood of you ever being able to leave Zalgo is damn near nonexistent. He has eyes everywhere, always watching you.
But let's say you do manage to run away without him noticing. Good job, by the way. That's not an easy thing to do. He'd be really pissed though.
He doesn't have attachments to people, seeing them as objects for him to toy around with until he grew bored. But you? You were special.
You were his favorite toy. He cherished you, kept you locked away so no one else could have you. Your fear was cute! He couldn't just let you go.
Rest assured, he will find you. He'll drag you back to your rightful spot.
Zalgo had been both impressed and enraged when he saw that you were gone. He had eyes everywhere, always watching you, alerting him if anything were to ever happen to you. For a moment, he had thought that someone had up and taken you. After all, why would you run away from him? You were smarter than that, surely. But he was wrong. You had left. Somehow managed to sneak out without him ever noticing.
Finding you wasn't going to be too much of an issue. His power was immeasurable, his influence vast. He had too many cults to keep track of, and they were all hunting for you. He was sure to greatly reward whichever cult found you first.
And once you were safely brought back to the cage he kept you in, he would linger around more than he normally does. Clearly, the pieces of him that he leaves behind to monitor you have been growing complacent, so he intends on sticking around until you learn your lesson, "Aw, does my presence make my little human scared?"
He thinks your fear is adorable, and he can't fault you for that. He's very angry that you ran away, however, and rest assured that he won't let that go unpunished. Clearly, you've gotten too comfortable here in this realm of mortals. Perhaps it would be best if he brought you to his domain... you would certainly have a much harder time escaping if he did that.
You'll only have yourself to blame if he chooses to go through with that train of thought.
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badaseyebags · 2 months
Text
private lessons ⋆。°✩ chapter 2 ⟢
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fluffy, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters
word count: 3k+ (phew)
warnings: very obvious power dynamics, just some making out, a bit of begging, lots of praise, lots of pet names, BADA CALLS HERSELF MOMMY!!!! aaaa
author’s note: i’m back 😳 i’m sorry that this took much longer then i expected, pls don’t block me 😞 i hope this is readable and not too disappointing @-@ i promise there’s actual smut coming soon! feel free to leave some feedback/suggestions! thank you so much for reading ♡ -booger 🍞
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with one last glance in the mirror you gathered the remainder of your courage and slipped on your shoes, grabbing your purse with shaky hands. why were you so nervous? it’s not like you’re going over to her house to get bent over. you’re simply going to get tutored. unfortunately you remind yourself why you’re in this position in the first place, due to your lack of concentration during her classes. you sigh shaking your head, applying a second coat your favourite lipgloss nonetheless, just for good measures! was it too much? was it obvious you put in a little more effort than you usually do? would she notice? why would she? and why do you even care so much in the first place? she’s just a teacher after all..
she had texted you the address and you realised she actually lived a bit further, which is probably why she offered to come pick you up in the first place, not wanting to inconvenience her any further you politely refused. maybe you were starting to regret it knowing it’ll take a long time to get there by bus, and you’ll most likely be late.. late to your first ever tutoring class, what a great way to start. woohoo!
you put your headphones on, making your way into the bus and finding an empty seat all the way in the back. that way you could have some privacy to collect yourself before you meet her. actually.. that wasn’t really working and you began getting more nervous so you decided to pull out your notebook to mindlessly doodle for the time being. it turned out quite cute you thought to yourself, staring at the sketch, imagining those two figures kissing were you and her. oh no, you’re doing it again. you and your stupid imagination! and that’s not even the first time you caught yourself doing something so silly. you close your notebook shoving it back into your bag, just a few stops away from your destination. phew. time to actually collect yourself!
with wobbly knees you make your way to her apartment, palms sweaty as you smooth them over your skirt. 10 minutes, you’re 10 minutes late.. would she notice? she’s having a day off that she sacrificed specifically to help you, and you dare come late? oh no, you’re definitely screwed. you start panicking as guilt washes over you, practicing your apology in your head, accidentally ringing her doorbell in the process. fuck. you didn’t mean to do that just yet, you weren’t ready. if you’re fast enough you can just ru-
you heard the door nob turning, soon revealing a tall slim figure in front of you. “oh miss y/n! you decided to show up after all, and here i thought you didn’t need my help anymore” she teases giving you a half smile making your heart jump, not only due to you being late, but because of how effortlessly attractive she looked with her two toned hair tied back into a messy loose braid, complimenting her light blue button up paired with some slacks. not to mention the sound of her half groggy voice calling out your name and the way it slid past her lips so smoothly.
“h-hello mrs. lee i am so sorry for being late! i didn’t”before you could finish your apology she chuckled, shaking her head. “no need to apologise sweetie, i was just teasing a little. come on in, make yourself at home.” you blink up at her, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. you just greeted her and messed up? damn already? was it because she called you sweetie?! god, you’re hopeless.
“i won’t bite.” she chuckled again, walking into her apartment leaving you with no choice but to follow behind her, timidly shutting the door as you entered. you swore you could hear her quietly mumble something under her breath, but you decided it was your twisted mind playing tricks on you once again. for the sake of your sanity. “here here, have a seat. care for some tea? coffee perhaps?” she pulls out a chair for you and this small gesture alone has your heart fluttering for no reason. you look down shyly, taking a seat and avoiding her gaze. “i..uh.. anything is fine, thank you.” you mumble trying not to keep yourself composed. she smiles nodding as she reaches for the jar of instant coffee. “i haven’t had my coffee yet, since i wasn’t sure if you’d like to drink some with me. do you like yours with milk, sugar?” was she calling you sugar or was she asking you whether or not you wanted sugar in your coffee? …and she waited for you to have coffee? yeah, as if. you need to stop being delusional. “miss y/n?” she glanced back at you knocking you of out your prolonged silence. “i-i would like both please.. i like my coffee s-sweet” you close your eyes in embarrassment as another stutter leaves your clumsy lips. you swear you never stutter. she chuckles in response as she prepares your drink. “we are quite the opposite, i prefer mine black.” she gives you a soft smile, sitting down across from you, setting your drink in front of you. you mutter a shy thank you as your hands reach for the spoon, mixing some sugar into the warm beverage. “oh that’s nothing, i usually make really good coffee but my coffee machine broke recently so.. instant coffee will have to do for now.” you nod quickly, fingers gripping the handle and side of the cup. “that’s fine! any coffee is good! i actually prefer instant it’s not like i know much about coffee anyways-” your lips are faster then your brain causing you to blurt out such a fact about you, which only made her smile wider. “oh we really are opposites, maybe i could change your mind once i make you a proper cup, hm?” you blush nodding fast in agreement, did that mean you’d be seeing her more then just this one time? you try to calm your nerves by bringing the cup to your lips, taking a little sip. maybe it’s better to keep your mouth busy so you don’t end up embarrassing yourself even more.
“so y/n… just how much experience do you really have?” she also brings her own cup to her lips, eyes fixated on yours. your eyes widen, the coffee you tried swallowing getting stuck in the back of your throat at her question, resulting you in coughing out loud making her put her cup down and lean towards you in worry. “are you alright sweetie? was it too hot? did it burn you?” you cover your mouth, calming yourself down as you shake your head noticing bada is very professional and calm despite asking such a personal question.
maybe you are too shy after all and you should be more open when it comes to talking about your sex life. people do it all the time, it’s totally natural. you hear others talk about it all the time. but then again why would she ask you such a private question out of nowhere? maybe she’s just a very social person, this is how adults talk and there shouldn’t be shame. it’s not like you ever talked about sexual things with anyone, but you know others do. like with their friends, parents, therapists, lovers.. you just need to get over the embarrassment and step out of your shell, you could learn a lot from her, be as mature as she is, even when it comes to such topics. she sure wouldn’t judge you no matter what, she’s a teacher after all. “i’m fine! i’m just.. not too good at talking about such topics.. but i… well…i don’t have much experience… none at all actually. that’s really embarrassing to admit. others my age have already done so.. many times.. maybe i am really slow or something..” you chew on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your head up to look at her, choosing to look into your cup instead. if you could see your own reflection in the coffee you’re sure your face would be beet red by now. that’s when bada herself chokes a little as your unexpected response.
you totally misinterpreted what she was asking. she was asking about your experience on the subject she was supposed to tutor you on, not your sexual experience. did she give you the wrong impression? was she being too obvious with her interest in you? were her flirting attempts not as subtle as she attempted? no way, with how empty headed you are they probably flew right past you, she thought. well.. it’s not like she wasn’t curious about that in the first place, but she wouldn’t have asked so suddenly. however, she didn’t have the heart to embarrass you like that by correcting you and telling you that you misunderstood her question.
she just cleared her throat and went along with it. was she willing to risk it all? this made her want to corrupt you even more, but she can’t. not yet. you made her lose her composure. she needed to fix that and get back in charge. she won’t let it, let you, fluster her. “sweetie..there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. that’s exactly what i’m here for.” she decided to test out the waters, see if you were as submissive and truly empty minded around her as she painted you to be. her hand was itching to get a feel of your skin, she was struggling to fight it. she needs to take this slow she reminds herself, she doesn’t want to scare you away. but it seems like you’re already falling into her trap. your eyes instantly snap up to meet hers, to make sure weather you heard her correctly.
“it would be such a pity if you left without learning anything.. wouldn’t that make me a bad teacher, hm?” she furrows her brows in faux sympathy as her hand finally reaches out, gently cupping your cheek making you look up at her. you gasp at the sudden contact and your current situation. “oh y-yeah… i’m here to be tutored-“ you try to avoid her gaze, once again looking down in embarrassment. your nervousness made you think of studying again, which is the reason she invited you over. right? you must be totally misunderstanding this. you’re just being delusional, you tell yourself.
despite you both sitting down she visibly towered over you, not just in her height, but in her presence alone. you could feel her knees ever so gently pressing against your own if you weren’t trying so hard to distract yourself.
was she sitting so close to you from the start?
she scoffs in amusement, her lips forming a fake frown. “oh you poor little thing.. you really thought i wouldn’t notice the way you look at me during class? that i can’t see right through that pretty little head of yours? you’re a smart girl y/n, we both know you don’t actually have a issue with learning..” your cheeks heat up as you’re forced to meet her gaze that looks more intimidating then ever. she just exposed you. she knew it this whole time. you didn’t think your crush on her was that visible. your lips part to speak but no words come out making her grin. her thumb slides past your bottom lip ever so gently, almost knocking the air out your lungs. “i think.. you could do so much better, all you need is just a little motivation.” she hovers over you, her thumb now reaching the corner of your lips, collecting the remainder of coffee and bringing it up to her own lips. her eyes flutter shut momentarily, licking her thumb clean and savouring the flavour with a hum. “so sweet indeed..” she hooks her pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at her. chuckling softly she leans in further, her thumb stroking just below your bottom lip as her eyes trail from your eyes to your lips and back. “are you gonna let me have a taste, doll?”
you gulp, your own eyes focused on her lips, slowly nodding as you look up at her. “now now, wouldn’t that be too easy?” she leans in closer, lips near your ear. “you’ll have to be a good girl and ask for it.” your mouth goes completely dry as you gulp. your hands clutch a fist full of your skirt, tension so thick it could cut air separating you two. you mutter under your breath, scared your voice will betray you. “mrs. lee.. could you.. umm.. can you kiss me?” you shut your eyes tight, hoping she would kiss you then and there. instead you only hear a dry chuckle.
you open your eyes, attention on her as she tucks a stray hair behind your ear, confusion painted on your face. “thats not how a good girl asks. not even a please? now that’s not very polite, is it? i’m starting to think you don’t deserve it.” you whine shaking your head. “no no i’m sorry! please… please kiss me?” you look up at her desperately. “aww you want a kiss that bad?” she coos cupping your cheek, smirking at the heat of it against her hand. you nod fast, leaning into her touch, totally submitting to her.
“use your words, tell mommy what you want.” she raises her brow, waiting for you to finally say it. your cheeks feel like they’re on fire now, heart beating faster then before as you stumble over your own words. “m-mommy?” you shyly repeat after her, eyes widening, cheeks painted red. you could see the shift in her eyes, and the way it affected her.
she closes her eyes for a little, biting her lip almost as if she’s savouring the sound of your voice calling her that. “how fucking cute.” she rests her thumb against your bottom lip, softly pulling it down. “doing such a good job begging mommy for a kiss…” you close your eyes tightly at her praise, almost whining from such a small action. she leans in, her lips just a few millimetres away from your own. you could feel her breath against your lips, covering your skin in goosebumps. she keeps one of her hands against your cheek, while the other rests against the top of the chair you’re sitting on. she gives your cheek a soft stroke before finally connecting both of your lips.
her soft plump lips smashing against yours felt like a reward. it felt like they were on fire, the way your lips burnt when she pressed her own against them. her fingers against your skin were so gentle, tracing the outline of your cheek, barely touching your skin as if you were made of glass. her lips were telling a different story as her kisses only deepened. you didn’t know what to do with your hands so you loosely griped the fabric of her blouse. she felt you fidgeting and decided to slide one of her hands down to reach for your hand, giving them a soft squeeze before wrapping them around her neck. this gave her the opportunity to drag her hands down your body as she scooped you up in her arms. without breaking the kiss she lifted you and placed you on the table next to her, making you wrap your arms around her tighter. she experimentally dragged her tongue against your bottom lip so gently, your lips parted in surprise. she smirked sneaking her tongue inside your parted lips that granted her access. you let out a little whimper at the feeling of your tongues gliding against each other. you could almost taste the bitterness of the coffee aftertaste mixing with your sweet one and for once, it was delicious. you were everything she wanted and she wanted.. needed more. eager to be closer to you, one of her hands slid down your thigh, slightly parting them as she pushed herself in between, she just couldn’t get enough. with one of her large hands hand stroking the outer side of your thigh, and other one playing with your hair you couldn’t help but shiver in her touch. it was like she was devouring you whole. your body feeling so soft and tiny pressed up against hers. it was driving her insane. she pulled away breathing heavy, admiring your flushed face and slightly messed up hair, remainders of your lipstick smeared all over your lips as you look at her with what she could only describe as hearts in your eyes.
fuck, she’s so screwed. she knows it’s over for her. you wrapped her around your pretty little finger and you didn’t even know about it. heck, you didn’t even have to do anything. you submit to her so easily and that was more then she needed. there’s no way she could just return to just being your teacher, she had to make you hers. you pout slightly as she pulls away, already reaching for her, wanting to feel her lips against yours again. you got her heart beating as hard as she made yours. subconsciously shivering in her arms. as she leans in placing gentle pecks on your lips followed by your cheeks, so much more gentle and affectionate then she was just moments ago. “mommy has to stop before she gets too greedy..” you breathe out as she cleans your messed up lips with her thumb, knowing what she meant you nod, still leaning into her touch. she pressed a final kiss to your lips before pulling you into her embrace, your head in her chest, hands soothing your back.
“let me drive you home precious, it’s way too late for you to be going out on your own.” she gently pats your head, before she realises. “you didn’t bring any jacket with you?” you shake your head at her question, once again fidgeting with your skirt, slightly swinging your feet back and forth as they dangled off the table. “i’m not letting you leave like this.” you blush looking up at her as she brings you her sweater that is much bigger on you then it is on her. she taps your arms signalling you to raise them which you do, making her smile as she dresses you up. “how cute..” she admires you for a moment, fighting back the urge to squeeze you in her arms before offering you her hand which you accept as she helps you off the table. unable to keep her hands off you, she’s smoothing her hands over your clothes in attempt to fix them. “are you ready to go, pretty girl?” she pecks your nose, grabbing her keys as she grabs your hand. you giggle nodding as your heart flutters at her treatment, clinging onto her arm, letting you guide you to her car.
of course she opened the door for you and closed it after you sat down before she got in herself. of course she told you to keep the sweater because she wants to see you in it more often. of course she told you to keep this a secret as she pecked your forehead goodbye. of course your head was filled with nothing but her as you laid in your bed, wearing nothing but her sweater as you drifted into slumber, hoping you could see her even in your dreams, the scenes from earlier on repeat. you were starting to really look forward to these private lessons..
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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country club bathroom part two
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words: 800
warnings: mentions of hooking up, no actual smut in this part, angst/fighting
part one / part two / part three / part four
“holy shit.” your eyes take in the grand entryway, the wealth of the cameron family on clear display.
“shit, almost forgot you were a pogue for a second there.” rafe laughs gently. he places his hands on your waist, hauling your body against his, lips meeting yours in a kiss.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, expecting him to lift you up, to grip your ass and carry you up the stairs, to immediately take you to his bedroom, but after a few minutes of kissing, rafe pulls away.
“god, im starving.” rafe groans. you think it's a euphemism at first, especially considering how intensely he eats you out when you have enough time and privacy at the country club.
“yeah?” you smirk, but rafe doesn't smile.
“you're probably hungry after your shift, right? what do you want? ramen, pizza?”
“ramen?” you let out a giggle. “are you sure you're not the pogue?”
“alright, alright.” rafe laughs. “i would take you somewhere fancy but…” you get the implication. you may have been hooking up for months now, but that doesn't make it any less complicated to be seen in public together.
“pizza is fine.” you pat rafes chest, leaving him to call and order while you explore more of the house, unashamed of checking out every decadent piece of furniture.
rafe catches up to you in the living room, coming up to wrap his arms around your waist as you stare out the window towards the ocean, the waves gently lapping the shore.
“it looks just like my view of the water.” you mumble. ignoring the dock stretching out into the water, yours not extending nearly as far and certainly not boasting as many boats.
“yeah?” rafe questions, ducking his head to kiss your neck, knowing better than to suck a bruise on the sensitive skin, as much as he badly wants to.
“not that different afterall.” you hum. you mean it sarcastically, but it does have your mind whirling. these percieved small differences that divide the island, all based on nothing more than the numbers in your bank account.
“don't tell me my favorite pogue is sympathizing with the kooks now.” rafe scoffs.
you turn around suddenly, out of his arms. “as if you haven't been on your knees for me.”
“hey, hey.” rafe says softly, seeing you're actually angry. “i like you y/n. i know i tease you but you give good head. i wouldn't invite you back here if i didn't want you.”
“can't you see i have more qualities than just good head?” you question, not sure why you're suddenly so angry, why the feelings are building up in your gut. you just want to be recognized, recognized by rafe, by the kooks, want the divide to heal, or at least lessen.
“yeah, of course, baby.” rafe tries to reach out for you, but you take a step back, backing into the sliding glass door.
“what did i do wrong, baby?” he asks softly. “tell me so i can make it up to you. if i said something im sorry. i just like to tease you when i say that dirty pogue shit.”
“no, you mean it.” you shake your head. “i know how you treat the other pogues on the island.” you have never seen rafe fight anyone else, but you've seen the cuts and bruises and heard stories from maybank and pope when you visit heywards.
“you're different.” rafe doesn't let your backing away stop him this time, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into his body. “yeah, you give good fucking head but you're also funny, and sassy. and have a backbone. everything ive done to the other pogues is because they're not like you. they're pieces of shit. probably not every single one of them, yeah. but i don't touch the ones that don't give me a reason to.”
“yet you still refuse to be seen in public with me.” you know you're asking a lot of rafe, and it's not like you can be seen together at the country club anyways. you knew he was only asking you to hook up when he invited you over, but the comment about taking you to a fancy restaurant struck you harder than you thought it would.
you pull away suddenly. “what are we doing here? i mean really. just hooking up? fucking? and we don't even really like each other? im sorry rafe, i don't think i can do that anymore.” you start to head through the maze of a house, needing to find your way out, needing to take a deep breath of air.
“what do you mean?” rafe follows your footsteps.
“if this is going nowhere… if we can't even go out on a single date, i… i can't do this.” you feel yourself starting to hyperventilate, chest suddenly getting tight, restricting your breathing.
“baby-” rafe tries to talk, but you find the front door and flee, running across his yard until you're outside of his fence, taking gulps of air. 
you look back and tanneyhill, and rafe doesn't follow you.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid
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rath00ker · 5 months
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How twst characters text (Not including side or staff characters)
Riddle Rosehearts: He texts very dry and to the point 2/10 you’ll know what he wants but its awkward to text him
Trey clover: Texts in one word like someone’s dad 1/10 would text “food” to the heartslabyul group chat
Cater Diamond: Texts with too many abbreviations and emojis, 6/10 wouldn’t hate texting him
Deuce spade: texts like a normal person. Nothing special. 5/10
Ace Trappola: Texts the most out of pocket shit to get your attention. “Just imagine me n u OILED UP” 3/10, I’d be scared to open the notification
Leona Kingscholar: Also texts like someone’s dad and it takes him 2 to 3 business days to reply. 0/10
Ruggie Bucchi: He probably got one of them flip phones so it takes him forever to text and he won’t say a lot. 6/10 just cause I love him
Jack Howl: Also just texts like a normal person, 5/10
Azul Ashengrotto: Perfect grammar, punctuation and spelling. Will correct you on yours. 2/10 idc about “your” actually being “you’re” you know what the fuck I mean
Jade leech: Texts whole paragraphs like he’s writing you a letter but he’s actually just asking where you put the milk. 1/10 I don’t got time to read all that just ask me simple questions
Floyd Leech: Literally can’t type to save his life. You gotta decipher his text messages like code. 2/10
Kalim Al asim: He’s so friendly over text and uses a lot of “!!!” When texting. 7/10 what a pleasant young man
Jamil Viper: literally won’t text back. He calls you if he needs something. 1/10 TEXT ME BACK AND QUIT LEAVING ME ON SEEN
Vil Schoenheit: Also doesn’t text if you need him you have to call him. Never looks at his text messages or DMs because his fans are weird sometimes. 3/10 I understand but still
Rook hunt: Sends you pictures of your house 0/10
Epel Felmier: Texts in a southern accent 7/10 he’s a little country boy
Idia Shroud: Texting is like his one form of communication and he refuses to send paragraphs and just texts you ten sentences about one topic. 8/10 just like me fr
Malleus Draconia: Literally doesn’t know how to use a phone 0/10
Lilia Vanrouge: Doesn’t text just sends you links to really bad TikTok’s cause he thinks it’s funny. 2/10 please stop
Silver: Takes two to three business days to text back and probably falls asleep in the middle of texting you back. 5/10 he’s trying his best
Sebek zigvolt: I don’t care about Sebek 0/10
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1-danid · 10 months
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Dating Teen Vi
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Dating Arc 1 Vi would include..
Vander loving you as another kid. You may have your own patents but he still sees you as one of his children. Meaning he gives Vi the talk instead of you because he feels she'll need it more.
Teen Vi is 100% shy when it comes to PDA. She will hold your hand in public but that's about it. On the rare occasion when she's a bit jealous she may give your check or lip a kiss but it's rare.
When it's just the two of you or 3 of you powder can see her soft side. She'd go all out and be attacking your face with kisses and love.
At this stage you guys wouldn't know your love language so expect a bit of everything at this stage as you're trying it all out for the first time.
I don't think she can cook, no one in that band can. So often you'd cook meals for the group and bake treats for her and Powder.
If you go on the "jobs" with the group, Vi would be protective of you. Yeah she knows you can kickass but she doesn't want to lose you or to get you hurt.
Also Mylo would be annoying cause she'd stop for a sec to admire your beauty and he'd be like
" I could do better than that. She's just showing off at this point."
You'd flip him off whilst flipping to another building. And when you get to wherever you are going to rob she'd let you take personal things for yourself and not to sell. Honestly she wouldn't care what you do she'd just watch you for a minute with a love sick smile on her face.
The others would 100% tease her about it. And she's blushing a bit and playing it off. They'd believe for the first few times until it becomes a daily routine.
She'd get you little gifts when you don't do jobs together and surprise you with them
If you don't go on jobs with the group you'd originally babysit Powder. Keeping her distracted and happy while the others are out risking your lives.
You weren't a fighter so you never asked to go to jobs. However you did learn how to treat basic ailments to help Vi and Claggor when they got badly hurt.
 Vi would 100% get you little gifts from the jobs she does without you surprising you with them. She'd be like;
"We were out at this one house, and I saw something. It reminded me so much of you. It was perfect and beautiful so I thought you should have it."
And then she'll give you a beautiful necklace. Or something romantic that you appreciate because of your relationship.
You'd bake her cupcakes whenever she's had a hard day and you think she needs to relax. The two of you will just cuddle as you sing a soft song to her. For example, falling for you by peachy!
Because you're always baking her  sweet stuff and 'cause she loves your cake and cups she calls you…
CUPCAKE 
I'm not sorry for that. But on the note of pet name's teen Vi will call you anything to see you flustered.
 She just loves you so much and you love her too
She’s definitely the big spoon and powder loves you more than vi (you didn’t hear that from me)
Like she see Vi as her hero but she sees how Vi looks at you and see you as Vi hero
You’re literally the coolest kid in Vander’s house
Plus you can work the bar, you have a lot of free time, so you’re able to earn a little for shifts at the bar
When Vi leaves powder behind you’d both have a big cussing 100%
Like you know how scared and confused Powder is and refuse to go and help because Powder needs support as well
Powder (bless her) would 100% influence you and beg you to bring her to the fight
One look at her puppy dog eyes, and you would cave and bring her in once she promises to stay hidden
You’d bring her and miss all the signs and when the bomb goes off, you’re their trying to protect her
Vi slaps (I refuse to write the p word) both you and her sister
Cue another heated argument you’d slap her back and cuss her out for touching you and Powder
And you’d break up.
So pissed you tell her to “fucking go to hell Violet.”
And she pretty much does, you’d try your best to comfort powder
Trying to stay strong for her, yet you’d let a few tears fall at your newly broken heart, your loss of home and your loss of your friends
You don’t notice Silco and when you do you don’t trust him fully.
But you know you and Powder need a place to stay so when he accepts Powder’s hug, you lower your guard
Moreso when you see a familiar face, passed out Sevika eases your nerves
You never do find out what happened at the warehouse, but you do know you lost everyone except Powder
You wonder if you’d ever see Vi again as you take on the older sister responsibilities for Powder’s sake
A/N
I hope you enjoyed this. I feel its better than the version i posted last time. To old moots this is not a goodbye. THIS IS A REVAMP!!
TIL NEXT TIME MY LOVES
-Dani
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yuzurins · 11 months
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# reluctant to love
desc: in which rin writes a long essay proclaiming his long suppressed love for you
warnings: not proofread… lots of rambling, maybe ooc, itoshi brothers are not estranged, minuscule amount of angst but majority is fluff, some curse words here and there, rin is still at blue lock btw!
rbs and interactions are appreciated !!
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‘dear y/n,
i am writing this letter to inform you that i have taken a liking to you for a while now and would like to—‘
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rin grumbles to himself as he scribbles out the complete trash of a confession that he had just wrote.
he doesn’t even know why he decided to take this approach at all. it all started because isagi and bachira told him that, “he was beating around the bush,” and “he’d probably win the world cup before being able to utter a word in front of them.”
so of course, rin said some very harsh words in response, leading to isagi challenging him to confess to you before the next match (that was in 72 hours) with his football career on the line.
which is how he found himself sitting at his desk after practice, spinning his pencil around trying to write a stupid love letter for his best friend.
because in the words of bachira, “everyone loves poetic men!”
despite immediately denying the words of his friends, deep down he knew damn well that they were completely right. if he wasn’t forced to, he would probably quit football before ever speaking about his feelings out loud.
but because the itoshi rin can’t risk his ego and pride, he’s reluctantly willing to write a silly letter.
turns out writing that silly letter was harder than any football game he’s ever played.
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‘dear y/n,
i remember the first time we met.
it was first day of junior high, and you were sitting on a bench in front of the school with red puffy eyes, fiddling with the little kumamon plush on your bag.
i was late to class that morning, and after seeing you i purposely tried to walk faster in order to avoid any human interaction. but you saw me and grabbed onto my blazer, refusing to let go even though i didn’t spare you a glace. you asked for help getting to your classroom, and because i didn’t know what i was getting myself into, i lead you there (like the kind person i am) expecting to never see you again.
but i guess the world had other plans, because it turned out we were in the same class. you stuck to me like a parasite, annoying me every chance you got and never shutting the fuck up. but i enjoyed the company, though younger me would never admit that.
fast forward a few years and nothings changed. or has it? you’re still yapping your mouth off all the time and clinging beside me in every class. except something’s different, and i don’t know what it is. you laze around at my house after begging me for homework help, we occasionally go get food, sometimes fall asleep together and— [this part is illegible because rin drew over it too hard]
i don’t know. i think around this time i started distancing myself from you because i always felt uneasy around you. my heart was always beating rapidly, my stomach felt uneasy, and i just felt anxious. all the time. nii-chan told me it was because of you, so i just stopped talking to you. i’m sorry.
i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i was leaving. that i’d be gone for a while because i got scouted by blue lock. i didn’t mean to because i thought i’d be okay before i left. sorry i’m rambling now. i know i don’t speak a lot in person so i’m writing my thoughts down for you to understand me better.
i was a kid in denial, and sometimes i still am because even now i don’t understand that part of myself. to be honest, i would’ve never confessed these feelings of mine if my friend didn’t push me to. it sounds like a dick move but i swear on my career that everything i’ve written on this stupid paper is genuine and sincere.
and what i am certain of is that i want you to be by my side. i want you to be there cheering for me when i win a game, i want you to be there beside me when i wake up, i want you to spend your afternoons lazing around me, i want you to tell me all about the small unnecessary details of your day,
i just want you
because you make me feel safe
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rin’s biting his lower lip now, feeling super embarrassed about how vulnerable he just let himself be on a piece of paper. he doesn’t read over it at all and shoves it into the envelope immediately. doesn’t even check whether he wrote your address right or not because he’ll chicken out if he looks it over at all.
he’s super anxious about this letter, to the point where he’s fucking up his plays, so imagine his surprise when he sees you sitting on his porch the day he finally gets to go home.
you jump up immediately at the sight of him and run to hug him. rin stiffens at the sudden impact but drops his bags a second later to sink into your embrace.
though as if that wasn’t enough of an answer for him, he’s still uncertain about your feelings. you hear the rapid beating of his heart and look up to give him a lovesick grin.
“i love you too, itoshi rin.”
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BONUS: 2YRS LATER.
“i can’t believe you forgot to sign off a letter confessing that you’re head over heels for me.” you giggle as you walk over to your boyfriend, who was staring at his letter that you pinned to your pegboard. “what if i ended up responding to the wrong person?”
rin huffs and turns away, embarrassed that you caught him reading that. “shut up, you have no other friends anyways.”
you smile teasingly at him as you notice his ears turning red. “you never thought about the possibility that someone could’ve liked me during the 10 months you ignored me for?”
he frowns, though you can’t see him, and droops his shoulders down. you know he still feels bad about it, but it’s fun to tease him because in your eyes he looks so adorable, like a big puppy.
and as he still stares at the floor, he turns around and walks over to envelop you in his warmth, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
an endearing smile finds its way on your face as you hug rin back. he’s not a words person; this was his way of expressing his apology.
“it’s okay, you big baby, as long as you’re here with me now.”
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