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wesstars · 8 months

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sorry, baby x (i)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: you’re friends-with-benefits with wednesday (maybe a bit more on your part,) and you can’t help but push her buttons a little. wc: 5.2k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, light D/s dynamics, praise, boots, strap-on referred to as both ‘cock’ and ‘strap,’ crying, biting, denial, light choking, begging, reader shushing during sex, all that good stuff. a/n: i’m very rusty. please forgive me haha. title from killing eve. this iiissss inspired by/for someone, you know who you are ;) say hi if you find me!

read part two here!!

masterlist

The last class of the day was always the worst.

Even as the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows, casting the quiet classroom in a white gold glow, you could barely focus enough to remember what subject you were in. The instructor droned on about something or other—you were never the best at paying attention, relying on your subconscious and review session to get good grades. How could you listen when the lesson was just so boring, and you could steal the review from a certain Addams later on, anyway? You blinked slowly, trying to yawn discreetly. Calm was the atmosphere, as everyone was nearly falling asleep as the hour stretched on.

A note fluttered through the air to land gracefully in your lap.

Meet me after class.

Wednesday’s neat script, immediately recognized, made you grin, and you looked up. You spotted her, sitting next to Enid. Almost as if she could sense you looking, she spared a precious second from her notetaking to cut you a glare that could fell an army. You only laughed, covering your mouth to hopelessly hide your snicker.

The note had given you a bout of deja vu—it all started with a note, really. By virtue of you being Enid’s friend, you started in Wednesday’s peripheral circle, but you were always unafraid to confront her and eagerly prodded her to bicker with you. Enid would roll her eyes once the two of you would start again, but the way Wednesday’s neutral expression seemed to relax just a bit, made you think she didn’t mind as much.

The first time you gave her a friendly shove during a mock argument nearly had you apologizing, as she’d frozen as soon as your hand touched her shoulder. You didn’t want to actually cross her boundaries, but when she shoved you back, nearly pushing you into a bush, the ice was broken. Your friends now often had to give the two of you the wide berth as the arguments would escalate into shoving and chasing, and one time, almost a full out siege where you were to defend Jericho and Wednesday was to defend Nevermore.

All of the back and forth you two had was nearly as intense as you and Wednesday each were—she liked that about you. At least, that’s what you told yourself. She liked it enough to drop a note in your lap during class, some three months ago, asking you to meet her in an empty class “for warfare.” You had come with a knife hidden in your sleeve, but it ended up clattering to the floor as Wednesday pulled you in by your tie and bluntly asked you if she could kiss you. Before she could change her mind, you had kissed her hard enough for her own hidden knife to fall to the floor next to yours.

Wednesday Addams didn’t have friends. You, certainly, were not her friend, not in the way you touched her and not in the way she let you. Enid called you friends all the time, but she didn’t know about how Wednesday would pull you into a broom closet and push you down to your knees. You were sure that Wednesday would rather die than have a proper conversation about the… hooking up? late night meet ups? booty calls?? that the two of you were having. But you thought of her as your friend, and decidedly not anything more. You gave a lazy smile as you spotted Wednesday looking at you again. You knew why she had slipped you the note—the last time you’d been at her dorm room, rushing to give her an orgasm before Enid returned, you had stolen her favorite pair of Louboutin boots. You figured that the gods had given the two of you the same shoe size for a reason. No harm, no foul, right? Kicking your feet, you scuffed her shoes against the ground, knowing she could see them, knowing she could recognize them.

The sudden shuffling of books and scraping of chairs broke you out of your reverie. Class was dismissed, and you put away your supplies neatly, watching Wednesday leave first. She didn’t even look at you when she brushed past, but you knew she’d be waiting in the hallway outside. Sure enough, as you hitched your bag higher up on your shoulder, slipping your tie off, you spotted a head of raven dark hair amongst your classmates.

Wednesday looked at you evenly, ignoring all of the students filing out of the room. “You have what is mine.”

“Well, hello to you too,” you smiled brightly. Hearing her monotone voice always made your heart beat in technicolor, something chronic that you probably had to go to the infirmary for.

She only stared, eyebrows raising a centimeter. Turning to start towards the dorms, she waited for you to catch up to her before saying, “do not play dumber than you already are.”

You shrugged, wide eyed and used to her empty insults. “What do you mean? I’m innocent.”

“No one would ever accuse you of being innocent,” she shot back. “You are a thief, at best.”

“A thief?” You asked, in mock surprise. “What do you mean?”

She pointed down between the two of you, at the red-soled boots on your feet. “Give them back.”

You cackled, unable to keep up your façade any longer. “No.” You made a heart with your hands, winking at Wednesday through it.

Her hand collided, hard, with your wrist. Her grip was nearly painful, but you just smirked down at her. “I will only ask you once.” Her voice, still flat as usual, had a dangerous edge to it.

“Make me.” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. You were selfish, always forcing Wednesday’s attention to you. Even though you knew you probably annoyed her to no end, you didn’t know how to stop. Of course, if she ever told you to stop—seriously, not by way of her customary glare—you would.

You only just had time to finish your thought before Wednesday nearly tore your arm out of its socket, dragging you across the grounds towards your dorm room. How such a small girl was so fast, you had no idea. Before you knew it, you were in front of your room, with Wednesday reaching into your pants pocket to take out your keys and push you inside.

As soon as the door shut, you could visibly see Wednesday relax, which was saying something. You drew her smaller frame closer, wrapping your arms around her waist. She turned her head to tuck it into your neck, letting out the smallest sigh. Feeling her hand come up to grab the hem of your shirt, you leaned back a little.

“Wednesday.” At your beckon, she unfolded herself from your neck to look up, eyes as dark as wood immediately on your lips.

“This is not forgiveness,” she told you.

You reached for her bag, dropping it and yours to the ground. “Mmm,” you hummed as you tilted your head down to kiss her, slowly, enjoying the burn in your stomach as she kissed you back. “Maybe you’ll forgive me later, after I’m done with you.” She pulled away, giving you an unimpressed look.

“Arrogance does not become you.”

You just laughed, taking off your jacket, leaving you in your shirt, slacks, and last but not least, Wednesday’s very important boots. Leaning into her space, you nosed along her neck, nipping playfully with sharp teeth. You felt her arms drop back to her sides. “We’ll see about that, Weds.”

This time, she pushed into you first, all soft lips and razor teeth on yours. You sunk down, somewhere in the lowest deep as you kissed her, but your bliss was short lived, broken by your hiss of pain as she bit down on your tongue. Her hands were cold on the back of your neck, trapping you close, and you had no complaints. “Boots. Now.”

“If you want them back so bad,” you muttered, ducking your head to leave a dark bruise on her collarbone, “take them yourself.”

Wednesday put both hands on your shoulders, a glint in her eye the only warning you get. She pushed you, hard, so the backs of your knees hit the bed and you landed on your ass.

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, Weds,” you goaded, even as she grabbed you by your shirt collar.

“I’ll take your ankles off with those shoes,” she snapped lowly, but she let you kiss down her neck again, that pale column of skin too hard for you to resist. You took your time, leaving murky violet constellations, and with each mark that you sucked into her jawline, you heard her breathing grow shakier.

“Alright,” you said amusedly. “Take them off, then.” You bit down on that spot on her neck while pushing her shoulders down, and she gave surprisingly easily, landing with a thud on her knees.

“Do not go too far,” she hissed, trying to push you off, but you kept her there, her narrow shoulders bracketed by your legs. Her gesture was empty; you were confident that she would simply throw you off if she wanted. The many times you’d ended up tossed across the room showed as testament.

“Sure,” you agreed easily. Leaning in, you whispered, “can I take this off?” You thumbed the lapel of her jacket.

She nodded her assent, even though you could tell she was plotting a way to get you back. You went slow, leaning over her as you slid her jacket off, kissing the crown of her head.

“Very good,” you whispered into her hair, loosening her tie. Wednesday attempted to suppress her shiver at your words, but you felt it anyway. It gave you the courage to go to her shirt, sliding the buttons open hesitantly. She straightened her back, showing you her simple but elegant black bra, which was probably from some niche French designer and worth more than the boots you stole.

But the look on her face as you slid your hands slowly into that expensive bra was priceless: her eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit as her lips parted. You squeezed gently, letting out a small moan of your own. She was so soft, and—

“You’re so perfect, Wednesday,” you growled unevenly in her ear, your composure slipping just a fraction. You sealed your lips with hers and thumbed her nipples, licking up against her teeth as soon as she let you. Breaking apart from her for one unbearable second, you stuck your fingers in her mouth, coating them in saliva. The affronted look on her face disappeared quickly as you pinched her nipples again with sticky fingers, the whine she let out going straight through you like whiskey.

She shuffled closer, seemingly content on her knees despite her earlier protest. Her grip was tight on your thighs, bordering on blissfully painful. Wednesday was nearly pulling you off the bed with how hard she was yanking you in to kiss her, teeth clacking with yours. She sat back on her heels and grabbed your ankle.

“What’re you doing?” You rolled her nipple between your fingers. “Finally getting your—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as she spread her legs, stocking covered knees sliding. She lifted your leg and planted your foot between her thighs, the heavy boot slamming into the ground. You raised an eyebrow, head swimming with the direction she was going.

Wednesday was a pretty picture in front of you, shirt open, chest flushed, skirt bunched up around her hips. Uncharacteristically demure, she leaned her cheek against your knee, palm sliding up your clothed calf.

“What?” She asked, her turn for faux innocence. “You said to do it yourself, did you not?” Wednesday shimmied forward, her chest up on your shin.

You felt her start to press up on the laces, something hot and slow, and your mouth went dry. Her knees spread more as she adjusted, her hand grabbing yours to place it on her cheek. She grabbed your belt loops, the pressure on your boot heavy. Just the mere idea of Wednesday’s pussy grinding against your—her—boots was something you could never imagine, but her shiver as she got settled made you nearly combust.

“You’re so needy, my girl…” the words slurred their way out of your mouth, likely more loving and adoring than you’d intended them to be.

“Looks like you’re the one fucking yourself,” she huffed out, a rare twisted grin gracing her face. Wednesday’s head tipped back again, a pleased little exhale falling from her lips as she pressed harder.

You cupped her jaw, pushing her shirt from her shoulder to bite, something possessive, with no inhibition, in you rising to the surface. “You do that to me, darling.”

You shift your boot closer to her, meeting her grinding circles, making her gasp and cry out your name. You were content to watch her like this, chasing her own high on you like some sinful temptation. With just the sound she was making, and her lip, bitten red, you knew she was getting her slick everywhere. Her breaths came harder with each time she pressed herself into the laces, her gentle rocking becoming more and more erratic. You almost wanted to see if she could cum like this, but as her eyes got hazier and her movements more erratic, you couldn’t help yourself.

“That's enough, Wednesday.” She barely has your clipped tone as a warning before you pull her off your boot, rough as you hoisted her up, but keeping your grip gentle.

“Come here.” Surprisingly, she did as you asked, throwing her clothes off with the air of a girl who knew what she wanted. You watched her, every inch she uncovered sending prickles of heat up your collar. Her panties, thin and damp, landed in your hand, and you knew she saw your jaw clenching when the corner of her mouth quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

You tucked the thin fabric into your pocket and reached for her, her cool skin soothing the burn in your chest. You turned her around to tuck her into you, sitting on your lap. Manhandling her easily, you could feel her muscles, taut from fencing, under your palms. You hooked her knees over yours, and spread your legs. Unable to resist a smirk at her sharp inhale, you kissed up her neck, scraping your teeth against the shell of her ear.

“You look like magic,” you murmured. “So good for me, Wednesday, letting me spread you open like this,” you continued, tilting her head to lean it back on your shoulder.

“Consider yourself lucky,” she rasped out as you mapped your hands along her ribs, sliding them down her tense stomach to grip her thighs, thumbs rubbing circles.

With each circle, you pulled your hands higher, close enough to her pussy that your fingers were sticky from her inner thighs. “Oh, I am.”

You cupped her pussy, already feeling her wetness coating your fingers. Forcing her legs wider, you rubbed up and down, purposefully avoiding her warmest spots as your other hand skimmed up to her chest. But you never were able to keep yourself from Wednesday for very long, testing your own patience as much as hers.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and as you pushed a finger in, her hand shot up to grab the back of your neck with a quiet oh. You crooked your finger, her slick making it easy on you. Letting your palm graze her clit with every motion, you smiled as her hips lifted, searching for more friction.

You take your time, knowing that Wednesday’s pussy was the softest thing you’d ever touched, and it was likely to remain that way. Pushing another finger in, you made sure to grind your palm against her clit every time you curled your fingers. Her soft noises were enough to have you on your knees, and you would’ve, if she didn't sigh out your name, getting your attention. She squeezed your fingers, jaw tight enough to creak.

“What is it, Weds?”

“I…” Wednesday cut herself off with a whine as your fingers twisted, the high sound shooting straight through your stomach. You beckoned with your fingers, hard, and she keened in your ear.

“I need you to fill me up.”

Her words snapped something already delicate inside of you. You took your fingers out, smearing her slick all on her hips as you flip her over. If you had it your way, you would be able to see her face, but you knew this was her favorite position. You saw her swallow in anticipation as you stepped briefly away from the bed, kicking off those catalytic boots and rummaging under your bed for you and Wednesday’s box.

Everything in the box you kept meticulously clean, knowing Wednesday’s routine of cleanliness. It would only be Wednesday Addams, a contradiction in her black heart, that loved to be as messy in your bed as she was clean in hers. You picked a black strap, one that you two used frequently. Pulling it on and adjusting it, you get on your knees behind her. For a moment, you watched her, captivated by the sight in front of you, grasping her hips. She arched her back, getting comfortable, as if you weren’t already trying not to fold and just take her like a ship to water.

You pushed yourself up against Wednesday, hips flush to her ass, letting the silicone glide against her clit. To her credit, Wednesday’s breath only came out the slightest bit shaky, even as you guided her thighs apart with a knee. You hummed as she pushed herself up onto her forearms to rock back, head turned to look at you. Wednesday had to grind down past your strap for her pussy to touch your thigh, and you laughed lowly as she flushed with the action. She froze.

“What’s wrong?” You rubbed a hand over her lower back, ready to pull away if she gave even the slightest signal.

“Do you…” she swallows, eyes flicking from you to some distant spot in the corner of the room. “Do you not want me to do that?”

For a second, you couldn’t believe your ears. There was a rush of indignation on Wednesday’s behalf, that she could ever think you wouldn’t love her desperation. Then, the wave of understanding broke over you—Wednesday wanted your approval, over an action that was decidedly un-Wednesday-like, and the final flick of her nervous gaze towards you told you that this was important.

You grabbed her hips, hard enough to leave shadows that you hoped you’d see tomorrow. Anything physical, Wednesday would undoubtedly best you, but this was something you could hold your own on. You pushed her pussy down onto the strap, onto the rough fabric of your slacks.

“Why would I ever not want you to show me how much you want it, mmm?” Your question was a growl wrought with satisfaction and a winner’s unapologetic glee, and the effort you put into your tone was worth the way the tension vanished from Wednesday’s eyes. She rolled her hips again, her Addams confidence returning, letting you guide her into a smooth rhythm.

“Besides,” you leaned forward, one hand letting go to come down a hair's breadth from Wednesday's nose. You folded yourself over her body, your tight grip still controlling her hips. “I know you can’t cum like this.”

The whine came unbidden from Wednesday’s throat, high and breathy and perfect. Nevertheless, her hips and keening gasps followed your even rhythm, and you saw her grip on the pillow go white-knuckled.

“I’m pleased with you, my dear. I do love to watch you suffer.” At your words, sunk roughly into her ears like cannonballs on kindling, Wednesday moaned, loud, into the space between the two of you. You ignored the burning torch that her sounds dropped into your lower stomach, choosing to murmur: “you can take it, right?”

“I can take it,” Wednesday whispered back, almost mindlessly. “I can take you,” she continued. “I want it.”

You settle back on your heels, satisfied. The sudden quickening of your heartbeat was only to do with your physical exertion, and nothing with how you felt for the girl under you. I can take you, not I can take it, I want it, not I want you.

You pull your thigh from under her roughly, making her yelp. Reaching around her narrow hips, you trailed your fingers down from her belly button to her clit, rubbing small circles. “Ready?”

Wednesday nodded, another whimper escaping at your touch.

“I need you to tell me yes, Weds.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

You push in, slowly, giving her body plenty of time to adjust. She was still prepped from your fingers earlier, but you didn’t miss the chance to gather her wetness and smear it against her clit. Wednesday was taking deep breaths beneath you, just like how you taught her the first time you two had used a strap. The rush of endearment you felt for her at that memory was distracting, you decided, and you pushed it away.

You slowed yourself down as your hips were once again up against her ass, hands moving to squeeze her shoulders. You saw her eyes shut tightly, the corners growing shiny. Wednesday always needed a moment once you put the strap in, something you were happy to give her.

She was still inhaling deeply, thighs trembling. “It…”

“It what?”

Wednesday opened her eyes; they were brimming with tears, dark lashes sticky. “It hurts…”

Your body tensed, already about to pull away, but with a surprisingly strong twist, she forced herself back onto you. A whimper rose high from her throat, and you had to take a breath to keep yourself from flipping her around to kiss her right then.

“Hurts good,” she whispered. You close your eyes, near involuntarily. Fuck, this perfect, perfect, girl would ruin you, just as much as you wanted to ruin her. You lean forward, pressing your chest into her back, forearm across her shoulder blades to ground her.

“How does it hurt, love?”

“It’s—I’m full,” Wednesday gasped out, glossy eyes sliding shut as you shifted on your knees, cock shifting inside.

“It fills you up, huh?” You breathed into Wednesday’s ear.

She nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” she said, almost immediately. Experimentally, she swiveled her own hips around, and it made her hiss and bite her lip. “You fill me up.”

You exhaled through your nose, resisting the urge to just grab Wednesday and slam your cock impossibly deeper. “And?”

“And it’s good,” Wednesday whined out. “Hurts good.”

The knot in your chest loosened, the tension in your body broken like a wave. Surely, it wasn’t healthy to hang onto Wednesday’s every word the way that you did. You pulled out almost all the way, and snapped your hips forward, hard, burying yourself into her.

“Good girl.”

Wednesday let out a breath that bordered on a moan, and you smirked to yourself. Maybe she was right, and the arrogance was getting to your head, but you couldn’t help it. You set on a steady pace, gently brushing one of her braids aside to grasp the back of her neck. You felt yourself slipping into it, drunk on the way she let you touch her, your world tunneling down to just Wednesday—everything was Wednesday.

Every time you pushed in, it was punctuated by her gasps, and you could feel her breathing start to grow uneven. It stirred up something innately protective in you, for Wednesday. Her shoulders were shaking, tension pulling her taut.

“Wednesday, baby,” a pet name she would only tolerate in her hazy, lust filled state, “I need you to breathe for me, alright?” You slowed down, following your intuition on what she needed.

Still flush to her back, you listened to her stuttering inhales, deeper but not enough for her to catch her breath. “Shhh,” you cooed low into her ear, covering her eyes, and taking her hand, still tight on the pillow. “Breathe, my love.” Inexplicably, Wednesday let go of the pillowcase and intertwined your fingers, squeezing your hand and your heart tightly. She listened to you, for once, slowing down and softening her breaths. You could feel her tears on your palm, and you shushed her again, pressing kisses on her temple where her hair stuck to her forehead.

“Alright?” You slid your hand away, watching her eyes carefully.

She nodded. Skimming your fingers along her cheekbone, you let the warmth in your heart for the smaller girl seep into your words.

“Just say the word, Wednesday, and we’re done.”

“No,” she murmured back. “If you stop now, I’ll throw you out the balcony.” Though she was out of breath, a sticky, flushed mess under you, you had no doubt she’d follow through on her threat. You smiled.

You pick up your rhythm again, this time covering her smaller body with yours again to suck hickies into the back of her neck. Your other hand brushed down between her thighs to rub her clit in circles—she was so wet that it was hard to keep up with your thrusts, but it was worth the choked cry that escaped from her throat as you hit that spot, her fingers tightening around yours.

Wednesday arched her back into you, burgundy lips bitten blood red right before your eyes. “Keep going,” she told you. You had no intention of stopping, watching a flush bloom on her neck as you kept up your ruthless pace.

But despite that, you wanted to take your time with her. Every time she would tense up, you would slow down, making it impossible for her to reach that peak you knew she wanted. You forced yourself to slow down on both her pussy and her clit, just as she was starting to shake, and in spite of herself, she cried out in frustration, a tear slipping free.

“Sorry, baby.” Your tone edged on cruel, desperately needing to see how much she could handle. “I know you can handle it, just for me, okay?” Strap still fully inside, you bent to kiss the juncture of her neck, lips and teeth leaving a bruise. Her skin was hot to your touch, even though your shirt. You bit down again, matching all of your other marks that graced her skin.

Wednesday whined again, inhibition cracking faster by the second. “Don’t stop…”

“Don’t stop what?” You asked, voice turned mocking. “Use your words.” You reached up to clasp the back of her neck, rubbing the tension out. “And be good.”

Her breath quickened, and she squeezed her eyes shut as another tear rolled through her mascara. “Don’t stop…”

“C’mon,” you cajoled, hand coming around her neck to squeeze her throat. “C’mon, my love.”

“Please… don’t stop fucking me.” The words tumbled out in a rush, and she mewled as you nuzzled your lips against her shoulder, your fingers starting up on her clit again.

A shiver shot up your spine, making you curl protectively around Wednesday, the hot burn of possessiveness, to mark her again, near unbearable.. “Anything you want, darling.” You slammed back into her, hard enough to push the both of you up the bed. One of her hands grasped at your forearm, pulling your grip from her neck. She wrapped your arm across her shoulders. Your breathing came hard, but you didn’t stop, each whine in your ear making your head spin. You had no idea how much time was passing, or if it was even night or day; your entire world was hazy and fuzzed with raven black.

“I’m—” Wednesday cut herself off, biting down on your arm for a moment, leaving a smear of lipstick.

You let out a noise that was more of a growl than anything. “Let me hear you, baby.”

She gasped when you pressed a hand to her lower stomach, briefly feeling the bulge there from your cock, before going back to her clit. You didn’t pause, each thrust pushing Wednesday closer to the edge. “Use your teeth,” she choked out, her cheeks flushing. “Now, please.”

You complied, eager. Scraping your canines down her ear, you stopped at a tender spot behind her pulse point, the skin already marred with purple and red. A sailor’s delight, you thought, a bit hysterically. You sank your teeth in, not holding back, knowing she wanted it. The effect was near immediate; her eyes slid shut, and her body tensed against yours, an unrestrained sob tumbling out from her lips. She reached for you, nails digging into your arm. Your hands shook, all of her tightening the coil in your stomach. Wednesday’s orgasm crashed down, and it shattered something in you, deep and addictive.

Far down in you, below what you were willing to admit, Wednesday’s unknowing grip on your heart tightened even more. You felt like you’d just jumped off your own edge, inevitable as the eternal separation of sun and moon.

“I came,” Wednesday’s voice was a ragged whisper, a ghost of her earlier whimpers ringing in your ears.

“You did, my love,” you shushed, gently sliding your cock out, catching Wednesday as she seemed to melt into the bedsheets with no support. You guided her into her back, relishing in the way she trustingly let you. Tucking the strap away to clean later, you massaged her thighs, thinking they’d be sore later. She seemed to be in a daze, dark eyes fogged with the afterglow. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara from her tears, and the rims of her eyes were a fuschia pink. You’d never seen anything more beautiful.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that her gaze behind her slow blinks as she watched you was just as possessive as you were. You did know better, you swore, but it didn’t stop you from nuzzling your face into her stomach, intoxicated on the smell of her arousal, delaying the clean-up for just a moment longer.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” You teased, unsure if she could even hear you. You smoothed her fringe off her forehead, already moving to sit up and get her a bottle of water. But before you could move, Wednesday’s hand grabbed your wrist with lighting speed, a shadow of the earlier afternoon.

She cracked an eye open, and though her eyes were shot red, there was a challenging shine, blade in moonlight, there. “Who says you’re done?”

reader: i fuck her good but i don’t think she likes me back :(

wednesday: if you don’t hold me right now i Will murder

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

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2K notes · View notes

yourmidnightlover · 1 year

Note

Xavier x Reader piece where reader saw Bianca leaving Xavier’s dorm and assumes they’re back together after Xavier & reader would flirt here and there. Reader begins to ignore him and he’s confused as to why… idk could be cute, could be smutty just a random thought

SO CUTE AGHHH

rumors

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: reader noticed xavier pulling away and tried to talk to him about it when she sees bianca barclay leaving his room looking more than satisfied.

warning: !not proofread! read the request ig, i also did add smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv, VERY soft sex bc i’m a softy myself :)

a/n: i tried to follow the request as much as possible, and i hope i did it justice! i’m also so so sorry for the tardiness of the post, even though there isn’t a specific deadline or anything. i’m working my way through my requests and my series! i want to make sure everything has at least a half decent plot <3

you weren’t stupid. you had heard the rumors. those rumors being that xavier and bianca were back together.

now, you had also thought that wasn’t true. you and xavier had hung out on many, many occasions, going as far as you you ending up on his lap during a heated make out session. so, maybe you just assumed it wasn’t true.

but it was more than flirting and kissing with you. it was conversations about constellations and religion. it was cuddling until 1 am in his room because you didn’t want to be apart from each other. it was falling asleep on the phone for a few days when weems nearly caught you. it was more.

or was it all in your head?

it had been nearly 9 months since xavier and bianca had broken up. he seemed content with the breakup, mostly unaffected by it aside from his trust issues spiking like no other.

bianca, on the other hand, seemed furious. maybe about the breakup, maybe about seeing you with him. either way, she was mad and it seemed to involve xavier.

the past few weeks he had seemed distant. he wouldn’t call you as much. there were significantly less cuddle sessions. he wouldn’t kiss you as often. you know he doesn’t technically need to do those things. it’s not a requirement, you aren’t in a relationship or anything, but you missed it like no other.

so, when you were headed to his room to talk about everything and saw bianca leaving his room, you hid behind a pillar before she saw you. but you saw her. you saw her with that smirky smile on her face.

you basically knew what that meant. now, you knew why he was being so distant. bianca and xavier were probably going to get back together. he was going to leave you in the dust.

like any logical person, you decided that instead of letting him abruptly cut you out of his life, you would cut him out first.

this world is a kill or be killed, hurt or be hurt world. you were already hurt, but you definitely didn’t want to end up dead. yet.

“hey, y/n,” he called to you in the hallway as you were walking to your next class that you happened to have with him. “y/n,” he jogged to catch up with you. you didn’t even look his way. “hey, so i was wondering what you were doing later on today?” his shoulder nudged your own, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “y/n?”

you continued to walk to class, not even bothering to look up at the gorgeous smile that you were sure was beginning to fade. you sat in the back of the class, where there was no seat beside you, instead of sitting in your rightful seat beside xavier.

the one time you mustered up the courage to look at him during class, he had this puzzled look on his face as he was doodling something he would normally show you once he was done.

“hey,” enid sat beside you in your next class with a worried tone. “ajax and i were talking, and he said that xavier is confused about you. well, more confused about why you’ve been ignoring him? and i know it’s not really any of my business, but i was just wondering if you were okay? because you can always talk to me no matter what! off the record, too!”

“enid,” you smiled as she looked at you expectedly. “i’m okay… or, i’ll be okay. i just realized some things and now i’m dealing with the repercussions the best i know how. but if it ever becomes too much, i know who to come to,” she smiled as you did the same before running back to her desk beside ajax.

you knew she cared about you. but you also knew that she cannot keep her mouth shut. you love that about her, but it also means you have to be careful what you tell her. you know you made the right decision as you hear her loudly whisper:

“she said she’s okay and that she realized some things, but i dunno, jax! i guess she might need some space?”

you chuckled to yourself as the teacher began the lesson. she was a lovely girl, only doing what she thought was best for her friends.

the next day, it happened at dinner.

you had avoided his table at all costs, not even glancing at him as you saw him trying to wave you down out of the corner of your eye. you sat down at an empty table near the trash cans, one that nobody really wanted to even sit at and began eating quickly so you could leave.

your lunch was cut short when he plopped down beside you. you waited a few seconds, ignoring whatever came out of his mouth before standing. you muttered a small, ‘not that hungry,’ before tossing your food in the trash and making your way to your room.

“y/n,” he was rapidly knocking on your door. “y/n, let me in! i don’t know what’s going on but you have got to stop ignoring me,” there was a moment of silence where you contemplated opening the door, but all you could see was the look on bianca’s face showing you all you needed to know. “please open the door.”

it was when you heard footsteps walking away that you let the tears that you didn’t know were building fall freely. hunched over at your desk, sobbing into your hands, you let yourself truly feel what you had pushed down for days.

you truly fell for this guy over the past few months of knowing him. while you hated not talking to him, you knew it would hurt more if you let yourself stay attached only for him to break things off sooner rather than later.

it had been maybe fifteen minutes if you letting yourself sob into your hands when you heard a rapping at your window. you turned to see xavier, standing outside with his hands shoved in his pockets as he shivered in the cold.

“please, let me in, y/n,” his eyes were pleading with you. you never should’ve met them. “let me in.”

with a huff, you walked to the window and unlocked it, grabbing onto his arm to help guide him in. in all of the time you had been hanging out, he had never been so desperate as to climb up the fire escape to see you.

“what the hell, thorpe?” you scolded him, knowing he hated when you called him by his last name. “you’re an idiot.”

“yea, i might be an idiot,” he nodded as he sighed, adjusting to the warmer environment in spite of how cold you had been to him. “but i’m not the one that’s been ignoring my best friend for days.”

“you’re kidding, right?” you scoffed as you went to sit down on the edge of your bed. “i wasn’t sure you’d even notice, let alone care.”

“why the hell would i not care?” he threw his hands up in defeat as he began pacing back and forth in front of you. “god, do you not get that i care about you? you’re my best friend. of course i’ll notice and care when you ice me out!”

“you did it first!” you pointed your finger accusingly at him before taking a deep breath. “you stopped hanging out with me. you would barely come over. you barely even… god i sound like a moron.”

“i barely even what?” he froze at looked longingly at you as he awaited your answer.

“you barely even kiss me anymore,” you opted to avoid his gaze by finding interest in your own hands. “and i was going to talk to you about it a few nights ago when i saw bianca walking out of your dorm. and believe me, she looked more than satisfied so don’t worry about your own performance.”

“is that…” he was lost in thought before something clicked in his head. “you thought that her and i…” his brows rose insinuatingly.

“of course, i did!” you felt the tears well in your eyes again. “and i felt… i felt stupid. and i felt used. and then it made sense, why you stopped talking to me as much and why you were distancing yourself. it clicked. because you want to get back together with her.”

“y/n, i-“

“let me finish!” you snapped. “you owe me that much. you could’ve at least told me! you could’ve told me we weren’t going anywhere before i fucking fell for you! god, i don’t know if it was a game for you to see how many ‘bitches’ you could pull or what, but i don’t-“

his lips were on your own. his hands were cupping your face and his lips were kissing you passionately. your hands went to his wrists, almost to keep him there before you remembered why he had to kiss you to shut up.

“thorpe-“

“i love you,” he pressed his forehead against your own with a sorry look on his face. “she’s been trying to get back at me since the breakup. then, she noticed how i much i cared about you. she figured out how i felt and told me to stop doing… what we were doing or she would tell you. i didn’t think you’d feel the same way. i thought you would be freaked out by the fact that i was in love with you. i’m so, so sorry.”

you lightly pressed your lips to his, only for a short moment. “you could’ve told me, xay.”

“i’m realizing that now,” he smiled softly. “let me make it up to you?”

you nodded your head, “and how did you plan on doing that?”

“well,” he lifted you up by your ass, gently scooting you up on your bed. “before she blackmailed me, i was being distant because i was planning something very, very nice for you,” he began kissing down your neck, his hands now trailing up and down your body leaving goosebumps in their wake. “something romantic,” he sucked harshly on the spot that drove you crazy before one hand shot to his hair, the other going to his shoulder to draw him closer. “something a bit nicer for what i really, really want to do with you,” he emphasized with a gentle bite to your earlobe. “to you,” you moaned at that one, grinding up on his thigh that was between your legs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. “i want you… please?” he pressed his leg further into your core leading to you throwing your head back, giving him more of your neck to work with.

“let me take my time,” he worked his hands underneath your shirt, looking up at you for permission before you helped him throw it over your head. you tugged at his own shirt with a smirk.

“mmkay,” you nodded as he kissed up your stomach, sucking and nibbling on your skin to mark you more than he already had. “missed you so much, xay. missed you so much.”

“me too, love,” you lifted your chest as he unclasped your bra. “i missed you too,” once he disregarded the bra, he began to eagerly suckle on one of your breasts. he carefully teased the nipple with his tongue, letting his hand massage the neglected one, his fingers gently pinching your nipples just the same.

“please,” you continued to hump his thigh eagerly as he continued to switch his actions to the alternate breast. “please do more?”

“whatever you want,” he smiled before pulling at the waistband of your skirt. you lifted your hips to help him pull both the skirt and underwear down your legs. “so fucking perfect. and all mine,” his fingers danced around your pelvis before he got of the bed, putting your thighs over his shoulders to drag you to the edge, a laugh leaving your mouth.

“all yours, xay,” you smiled as he began to toy with the bundle of nerves at your center. “oh my god. that feels so… so good,” your hand was now playing with his hair, the other grasping his shoulder tightly. “i think you should know,” you huffed out a breath as his lips wrapped around your center. “oh fuck. shit, please keep going,” he let a finger slowly enter your center. “oh my god.”

“are you sure?” he momentarily stopped before you guided his head back to your center, nodding eagerly as your head swung back once more.

“i’m so fucking sure,” his tongue was gently massaging your clit excellently. with each tug and take your fingers did to his hair, another moan left his mouth. the vibrations worked their way through your entire body, making you feel everything.

“god, i can’t believe we’ve never done this. i think-oh fuck-i think i’m close. please don’t stop!” your thighs began to clamp over his head as your hips rutted against his mouth. “xavier! holy shit,” you had to pull him away by his shoulders.

“you like?” he chuckled as he pressed his lips to your own. he felt you continue to grind against his leg before you pressed your hand against his bulge to massage it. “y/n,” his forehead dropped to your own.

“i wanna do this with you,” your free hand went to cup his cheek. “only if you want to, of course. but you have my full, enthusiastic consent for all of it,” it was your smile that convinced him.

“i don’t-i don’t have any-“

“just don’t use one,” you pleaded. “i’ve been on the shot for a little over a year and i’m clean…”

“have i told you how much i love you?” he groaned before you worked your hand under his pants, pulling his hard dick out and stroking it a few times before he kicked his pants off. you lined it up with your center. “i’m gonna go slow, okay?”

“mmkay,” you nodded. “just… please?” he pushed his tip in, leaving your jaw dropped from the intrusion.

your arms went underneath his arms that were beside your head to hold him up, wrapping around his shoulders. you whimpered with each inch he pushed inside of you, your nails digging into his skin.

“jesus christ, you’re so tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out inside of you. “holy fuck.”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “feels like… your in my stomach,” your whines were filling his ears. “please move? please?”

his hips began to piston in and out of you. with each thrust, a symphony of moans we’re pulled from your throat. he pulled back to look at you lovingly, letting one of his hands cup your face before he pressed a kiss to your lips. he used this distraction to pick up the pace.

the sounds of his hips hitting your thighs began to resonate throughout your single, your moans only getting louder as you breathed in each others’ air.

he brought the hand that was cupping your face down to your clit, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. with the way your pussy began to pulsate around his cock, he knew he was close to the edge.

“y/n,” he huffed out, his forehead resting against your own as you nodded.

“i know,” you held onto his arms. “me too. just-just do it inside, please? cum inside of me?”

“yea, yes,” he pressed his lips to yours once more before watching as you fell apart on his cock. your head was thrown back, but your eyes remained on his as he joined you in his own ecstasy.

“oh my god,” you held him closely as your bodies came down from the high. his hands cradled your body tenderly once you were both safely on the ground.

“oh my god is right,” he chuckled as he carefully pulled out, laughing a bit more as you winced from the sensitivity. he got up and went to your bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it so he could wiped up the mess between your thighs.

“i really do love you,” you smiled up at him as he pulled his shirt over your head. “like a lot,” you both smiled.

“i think you also really love how i made you cum, pretty girl,” a hot blush crawled up your cheeks. “you realize you were just naked underneath me, right?”

“yes!” you shrieked out. “i know that… it’s just-i don’t know. i get-i have the right to be vulnerable after having sex!”

“i know you do,” he smiled as he pulled on his pants, crawling into bed beside you before you opted to simply lay on top of him. “i’m just teasing,” he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

“meanie head,” you grumbled into his bare chest, his warm skin never feeling more comforted by anything.

“you weren’t saying that whe- ow!” you pinched his nipple and began to laugh at his whining. “what the hell?”

“stop teasing,” you said smugly. he could feel your smile against his skin.

“after that?” he scoffed. “i’ve learned my lesson,” he hugged you tighter as you littered light kisses to his chest.

“goodnight, xavier,” you let your chin rest on his chest so you could look at him with the cheesiest grin that’s ever existed.

“i love you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your lips once more before you laid back down on him.

you fell asleep to the beat of his heart calming your own. he fell asleep to the lull of your soft breath. you both woke up with the warm embrace of your love for the other, which is how it would be from then on out.

#xavier thorpe fanfiction #xavier thorpe hurt/comfort #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix #netflix #netflix series

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Hey lovely!! Once again have been binging your page, and I saw you mentioned the lack of sirius in your request and I had this idea the other day! So it’s been like the longest day of classes and reader comes back completely slumped like ready to sleep a thousand years and sirius comes in to see her snuggled up in bed, his sweater on, and knocked out cold. Then he is all soft and wipes off her makeup (because half the time I fall asleep with it on and wake up w mascara smudges) and reader wakes up full of sleepy mumbles to sirius. Preferably female reader but if your more comfortable with neutral obviously do what you’re more comfortable with! Much much love to you and your writing 🤍🤍

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!! Much much love to you back :)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

Sirius very nearly sits on you.

He thought you were out and was planning on waiting in your room for you to get back, but now he sees the evidence of your presence: your bag discarded in a heap by the door. You’re hardly more than a sliver of forehead and the tips of curled fingers sticking out from under the bedspread. He reroutes the second he sees you, straightening from his near-sit and biting his tongue to contain a curse. Your breathing is heavy and whistles slightly on the way in. You’re out cold.

Sirius’ heart feels unbearably tender in the way it often does around you. He swears, when he gets like this even a toothpick would be a lethal weapon against him. He’s a boy made of mush.

He pulls the bedspread down so you don’t smother yourself, revealing your lovely face with tiny smudges of mascara caked under both eyes. And the collar of the sweater he’d found missing last week, the one you’d claimed to know nothing about. Sirius has every right to be angry about that. At least ostentatiously indignant, as is often his preference for dealing with your rare offenses. But the sight of you makes him more fond than is reasonable. You’ve pulled his sleeves down so only your fingers peek out, and the collar is all scrunched up under your cheek, and Sirius is fucked.

He is absolutely, totally fucked. There’s just absolutely no way he’s got enough room in his heart for this much love. It very well might kill him.

He keeps moving to give his heart something more productive to do. You’ll wake up feeling frustrated and extra lethargic if your eyelashes are sticky with mascara, and Sirius knows your routine well. He finds the supplies in your cabinet and barely breathes as he swipes the makeup remover over your skin with careful fingers, wiping away the traces of your day. It had to be a long one, to send you so deeply into sleep before the sun has even finished setting. The dying light illuminates your face while Sirius works. He tells himself it’s good for practical purposes as well as just making you look especially lovely. He can have both.

Your eyes take the most persistence, and that’s when you start to rouse.

“It’s just me,” Sirius says softly when your hand twitches up as if to feel for his wrist. “You fell asleep with your makeup on.”

“Oh.” You relax impossibly further under his touch, voice breathy and dulled by sleep. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.” He gets the last of the mascara off but isn’t ready to be done touching you, brushing the back of his forefinger along your hairline. “What’s done you in so early, huh?”

Your eyes open for a moment, like you want to make sure he’s really there, before closing again. A pinch appears between your brows. “Headache,” you mumble. As if remembering your misery, your head sinks into his sweater like a chrysalis.

Sirius’ brows pinch too, though your eyes aren’t open to witness his sympathy. “I’m sorry, lovebug. Did you take something already?”

You hum in unhappy affirmation.

“Hasn’t kicked in yet?”

A halfhearted huff. “Or it’s not really helping.”

He cards a hand through your hair, rewarded when the tension in your features eases slightly. “I’m sure it will, we’ve just got to give it time. Anything else I can do to help?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, come on, sweet thing.” He’s wheedling, covering a tad of desperation with a good heaping of teasing. “You know, I’ve been told that just looking upon me can cure a myriad of ailments. I’m like—what do the muggles have? Their god-human guy.”

You crack an eyelid, the dryness of your expression undermined by a twitch of your lips. “Are you saying you’re Jesus?”

“I’m saying that I’ve been told I’m sort of like Jesus,” Sirius corrects you with a grin. He rubs at a nonexistent smudge of makeup on your cheekbone. “So there’s got to be something I can do for you.”

You release a great, heaving sigh, like your boyfriend is really asking a lot of you. But when you look up at him, there’s a familiar shyness there. “Do you wanna just lie with me for a bit?”

“Baby.” The teasing leaves Sirius immediately. He softens like dough in your hands. “Of course I do.” He shucks off his shoes before shuffling out of his pants, knowing your rules about outside clothes in bed trump your occasional bashfulness when it comes to nudity. There’s nothing sexual about this anyway. You tuck into Sirius as soon as he’s close enough, and he brings his arms around you protectively, one banded around your ribs and the other curved over your shoulders so he can cup the back of your head. “Don’t be silly,” he whispers with faux malice, kissing your hair. “I always want to do whatever you’re doing. Are we going back to sleep?”

“Maybe,” you hedge, but Sirius can already hear your voice stretching. You’re slipping away even as your head eases closer to him, your breath tickling his collarbone.

He tries to match your languid tone to help along the process. “Sounds good, gorgeous. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Your reply is barely audible, but Sirius’ heart warms nonetheless. “I know you will.”

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b3rrymilks · 9 months

Text

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 !

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : a cute lil sleepover with your boyfriend miles :)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : <3 this was also requested by anon, so enjoy luv ! (sorry for all the angst on my page rn..💔💔) this is very short due to my mind not being able to cook anything longer up. my minds been a bit all over the place😭😭 sorryyy💔 ART CRED : thokzu on tt

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : miles morales (1610) x reader

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

🕷️ while being conjoined at the hands, you both danced around in the pouring rain. your laughter filled the small space you danced in. miles was a nice change of pace in your life, ever since you’d gotten with him, things have changed for the better.

“you’re so beautiful” miles wasn’t usually the type to get all sappy without nearly having a nervous breakdown. “what did you do?” you replied, squinting and pointing an accusing finger at him. “nothing nothing, i just wanted you to know” miles laughed, watching you happily. this moment was cut short by his mother yelling. “MILES GONZALO MORALES GET INTO THIS HOUSE OR SO HELP ME!” her screams were louder than the rain. somehow.

when you two both walked into the house, rio had placed multiple towels on the floor so the rain wouldn’t get spread all over the floor. “you two—“ her lecture paused as she stared at the both of you. standing there soaked holding eachothers hands. “—get changed before you get sick.” she said, throwing even more towels at you two. “nowwww!” she added, watching you both still standing there, giggling.

what you two didn’t know, was that she watched the entire time as you two danced out in the rain. she found it heartwarming as her and jeff did the dame thing when they were kids.

miles wrapped a towel around you and rubbed it all around, creating friction to warm you up. “well, there’s no taking you home in this rain, my mom would kill me if either of us got sick.” miles spoke, looking around his room for a change of clothes for you. “uhh, here” he handed you one of his large white shirts, and fluffy pajama pants that his mom had bought a dupe of.

miles loved to draw, it was one of his favorite hobbies. he would often sketch you during class, as you would be nearly falling asleep at the boring lesson. no matter where he was or what he was doing he would always find himself drawing you. he had multiple sketchbooks already full, and every 2 pages there was a sketch of you.

there was something about the rain that was calming, making you tired. the rain definitely wasn’t going to let up soon, so you joined miles in his room as he completed his physics homework. he rubbed his temples in confusion. he had missed a few days of class, meaning he was behind in work. “you know it’s a trick question right miles?” you told him, giggling at his frustration. “no it’s not? it’s—“ he paused mid sentence, rereading the question. “no way…” he whispered, looking back at you. your giggling finally got to him, making him grab a pillow from his bed and toss it at you.

“hey HEY! it’s not my fault you missed class” holding the pillow up in defense. “you think it’s so funny hm??” he asked, picking up another larger pillow and threw it at you. loud laughter eventually filled miles’ room as you both began throwing pillows at each other.

his parents sat in the living room, listening to the laughter. “hope he’s done his physics homework.” his father spoke through an exhale, finishing his water. in honestly, they were all glad miles was happy and had someone to hang around with. (tehee.. get it? hang aroun? alr my bad don’t block me pls💔)

“okay okay fine! i’m sorry” you apologized to miles who was still hitting you with the large soft pillow. “i forgive you.. for now” miles spoke before falling onto his bed, pulling you close. his body heat quickly spread between the both of you.

soon the laughter died down, and the rain continued to patter against the window in his room. with slow blinks and miles caressing your face, you slowly fell asleep.

“i love you.” miles whispered pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead, watching your chest rise and fall. “you are a lover boy huh? crazyyyy” his father peeked into his cracked open door. “dad! get—“ lowering his voice, “—get out.” embarrassment quickly setting in. as his father left, he closed the door. “he takes after his father.” he mumbled with a laugh.

#💫 » 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐄’𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ˚ ˛ * 。#miles morales #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #sony spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #fluff #miles x reader #miles gonzalo morales #miles morales 1610 #miles morales x reader

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pjoxreader · 10 months

Note

could i get jason, percy, and leo looking after an overly affectionate drunk reader (fem pls)

Drunk Reader (Fem)

Jason Grace

-The second he realizes you’re a bit too drunk he decides it’s time to go home. You were clinging to his neck making Jason hold your waist to ensure you wouldn’t fall.

-”But Jason I don’t want to go yetttt.” you complain to him slurring your words. Jason huffs a little fondly at that as he sweeps you off your feet carrying you bridal style.

-”Not even if we binge your favorite show and I cook you some breakfast?” he suggests. That was all the convincing you needed as you grumbled something into his chest, pressing yourself as close to him as you could get.

-Jason gives a goodbye to the rest of the group as he gets you home, carrying you the entire way. When you get home he works on making breakfast, but he has to work around having you right in front of him, since you could still be close and cuddle up with him.

-Even with that challenge he manages to get breakfast done, thanks to some cooking classes from Leo of course. You had been really thankful for that because Jason’s cooking was awful before…

-He gets you over to the sofa getting on your favorite show, while making sure you get plenty of water and eat a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and plenty of toast to help with your eventual hangover.

Percy Jackson

-Everyone knew that you were clingy while drunk, it worked out sense Percy was just as clingy if not more. He’ll cling to you like a koala bear while the two of you take turns telling each other how much you love each other.

-The two of you were just having the time of your life dancing to Poker Face, which made you nearly cry laugh since Percy had told you about the whole Lotus Casino incident.

-You had plenty to drink and we’re busy drunkenly arguing over who loved the other more. “I love you to… To the bottom of the ocean!~” you huff unhappily at that crossing your arms as you were competitive. “Well… I love you to the moon and back!” That went on longer than you’re willing to admit.

-You both enjoy the night until the end of the night partying, drinking and eating plenty of food. You have to use each other for support and thankfully have Grover drive you both home. Though it was a bit of a struggle to get you away from Percy long enough to get you buckled up.

-When you get home you both crash into bed, knowing well that you were going to suffer a horrible hangover the next day. Which you did.

-Thankfully Percy was nice enough to make you pancakes in the morning. You were too hung over to care that they were radioactive blue.

Leo Valdez

-Ever had someone explain to you how a mechanical dragon works in less than an hour? Well you sure had now. Leo would go on longgg rants about things he was working on and different things that annoy him during his project.

-Not that you mind you were just contently snuggled up into his arm, enjoying your buzz as you listen to Leo rant. You decide you want to cuddle more and shift into his lap to cuddle up into his chest.

-He nearly catches you on fire but he quickly pats himself out, putting his arm on the top of the chair. “you uh, come here often?” he says, trying to play it off. You can’t help but laugh at that as you snuggle into his chest.

-He smiles lovingly and softly as he wraps his arms around you “I’m so lucky…” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your head. “So damn lucky… Promise you won’t leave…” his voice was soft as if this was a secret between the two of you.

-”I promise…” you muttered softly as you were starting to nod off into the warmth of Leo’s arms. And just like that you were out like a light. It didn’t take long before Leo fell asleep soundly too, holding you close as if you’d leave him in his sleep.

-The other seven had to work on carrying you both out, since you both were out cold no matter how hard they tried to wake you up.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #pjo fluff #hoo fluff #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #jason grace x reader #jason grace #percy jackson x reader

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planet-dusk · 1 year

Note

i have so many pervy jisung thoughts 😵‍💫 about things he does to his girlfriend while she’s sleeping. the way he touches her, touches himself. a dubcon pervy sungie lives rent free in my mind

feel free to share them with the class, anon. perv!jisung is so so good. honestly one of my favorites. and when he's a bit subby...

🏷️ perversion, dubcon/noncon, panty stealing and sniffing, masturbation, unprotected sex, somnophilia

he'd promised he'd be your good boy. and he tried. he really did. but he'd broken a rule and now he's suffering the consequences: he isn't allowed to touch himself for a week.

it's torture for poor sungie. he's always horny, needs to be inside your pretty cunt as often as he can and on the days you don't have time for him he jerks himself off until his balls are sore.

he steals your panties from the laundry basket sometimes. loves sniffing them while he fists his cock. he likes the lace ones the most; they feel rough against his swollen tip, almost painful when he rubs himself until he cums all over the fabric.

you've noticed your underwear disappearing and when you catch him in the act your punishment is more severe. no more pussy for jisung.

for an entire month.

if he thought not being able to jerk off was bad enough, not being able to get off by himself and not getting to be inside of you is like hell on earth. he'd rather die. but he made a promise. he'll show you he can be good for you.

not even two weeks in and jisung is getting desperate. he isn't allowed to touch you but your body feels so warm lying next to him at night. he can see the outline of your shape in the darkness.

his cock leaks painfully.

your chest rises and falls with every breath, slow and steady. you'll never find out if jisung touches himself a little, so where's the harm in playing with his balls for a bit? he won't cum. he can be strong.

it takes him less than a minute to blow his load.

now the floodgates have opened and things are quickly spinning out of his control. at first it's enough to tug his aching cock while you are laying next to him.

and then it isn't.

so he starts touching you. he slides his slick cock between your thighs and fucks them slowly. he's careful not to wake you even though the friction isn't enough to make him cum. he just needs to feel you.

slipping his cock into your warm, wet hole is only a small step up from the shameful acts he has been indulging in at night. he's lucky you're a heavy sleeper. sometimes he can only get the head in, staying there with his throbbing cock lodged inside your cunt. unmoving. what if you wake up?

he can only imagine what punishment you'd come up with this time.

one afternoon you'd fallen asleep on the couch. your lips were slightly parted, a small puddle of drool forming on the throw pillow underneath your head.

jisung hadn't been able to stop himself. he'd rubbed his cock on your lips, staining them with his precum. he'd nearly blown all over your face when you had suckled on his tip in your sleep. the involuntary reflex made him groan and he'd dashed off before you'd opened your eyes.

one more night left.

he didn't plan on touching you tonight; his punishment would be over tomorrow. he could go one night without. no need to pursue the risk.

but the thrill feels too good.

so here he is again, cock slipping in without resistance. how is he supposed to stay away from you when you're always so wet and warm? even in your sleep.

you're lying on your back while he kneels awkwardly between your legs. adrenaline and arousal runs through his veins as he sinks into you slowly.

just a little deeper.

jisung freezes when your hand suddenly comes up, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing hard enough to have him gasp for air.

"you've been using me as your fucktoy for long enough, baby. now it's my turn."

#answered #anonymous #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: perversion #sub!idol #dom!reader #;skz blurbs

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orqheuss · 11 months

Text

Clumsy Love

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader FLUFF)

Summary:

Ominis was supposed to be your best friend, so why did being close to him suddenly make your heart race? *** A relaxing day in the Room of Requirement takes a turn that you never expected. Not that you were complaining, though. Who doesn't love a little bit of dancing?

Word count: 3k

AN: I thought this was a really cute idea, and I love the trope where a character is so emotionally constipated that they don't realize they're in love until a really inopportune moment.

If you wanna listen to something while you read, I have a jazz playlist here BUT, if you want specifics, the two songs that I was thinking of for the swing dancing scene started with "Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Fitzgerald, followed by "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller. (if you want a song for the ending, I suggest "The Face I Love" by Stacy Kent)

You didn’t know what you were expecting to come from your day when you retreated to the Room of Requirement, but it certainly wasn’t what was in front of you at the current moment.

In all honesty, your day started fairly normal— double potions with the Gryffindors, followed by Charms. It wasn’t uncommon for one of your boys, sometimes even both, to follow you from Professor Ronen’s room to your little sanctuary in the Astronomy tower, and today it seemed that Ominis in particular wanted to bask in your company for a little bit longer. Just Ominis. He seemed to be doing that more often as of late. Be it little lingering touches on your arm when he goes to gather your potion ingredients for you, offering to carry your textbooks to a class that you shared, sitting slightly closer than what was normally deemed appropriate at your house table during supper, or going as far as to fall asleep curled against your arm in History of Magic, he was always around. Not that you minded, of course; he was your best friend, bar Sebastian.

What you did mind was how your body reacted to his closeness, something that happened completely outside of your control. Every time his skin brushed against yours it was like a swarm of lacewing flies hatched in your stomach, their tiny wings beating harshly against the lining of your gut and scratching all the way up to your brain, making it fuzzy and muddled. Your palms would sweat when he stood close to you, small tremors wracking through your form if his shoulder so much as bumped against yours as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. At one point, Sebastian, noticing the extreme shade of pink that overtook your face one evening in the common room when Ominis’ hand “accidentally” brushed against the bare skin above your knee when he reached for his Astronomy textbook on the table, made a big show of pressing his hand to your forehead and feeling for a temperature, asking if you were feeling alright.The most concerning part, though, was that you had become incredibly clumsy whenever he was around. He could just simply speak your name and you would nearly drop anything you were holding in your hands. Sometimes it was something small like your quill, or a hairbrush, but once, to your, and everyone else in your Herbology classes, displeasure, you had dropped the mandrake you were potting when he whispered in your ear asking for help locating his offending tuber. You were beginning to think that you should go pay nurse Blainey a visit— someone must have cursed you to act like this around the sweet blond boy. There was really no logical reason to be this worked up in his presence, and it drove you mad that not only had your peers begun to notice your little slip-ups, but Ominis had also begun to take note of your strange behavior.

The worst part of it all, though, was instead of asking if you were alright, or coming to the same conclusion as you about the possible curse, he seemed obnoxiously smug about your reactions to him once Sebastian had the gall to point them out.

What did he know that you didn’t?

Either way, you had developed a new symptom that day in your Come and Go room. An old gramophone had appeared in the corner of your little sitting area not long after you entered, playing some soft ragtime tune chalk full of brass and jaunty piano that created a lovely ambiance to your impromptu study session. Ominis had started humming along soon after it began, seemingly recognizing the melody. His voice had a lovely timbre to it— something deep and earthy that rumbled in your chest and made your heart race with every lift and fall of the notes. Eyes fluttering shut, the book in your lap quickly lost your interest much like most other things when you were in the Slyrherin’s presence. He had this gravitational pull to him that you couldn’t help but react to; everything in your body screamed that you needed to be in his orbit forever.

Normally, the smallest of movements from him captured your attention, but you were so enthralled by his angelic voice that you didn’t notice him standing before you, his hand outstretched in front of your face and his palm facing the sky, until that heavenly throat cleared itself. You shook yourself from your hypnotized state, fumbling with the book open in your lap and slamming it closed by accident from the shock before snapping your gaze to his. He was looking down at you with a gleam of mirth in his eyes, the mischievous glint making the oceanic blues glitter like the reflection of stars on the black lake. It was uncanny how well he could meet your gaze, no matter the struggles his disability would normally pose. Ominis chuckled lightly at your squeak of fright, flexing his fingers in your direction again as he spoke, his smile clear in his tone.

“Care to dance, dearest?”

Dearest. Your two boys called you little pet names before, nothing more significant than a “dear” or “love” here and there, but dearest? Merlin help you. You had felt your heart pick up its pace around the blond before, but the way his mouth moved around that sweet sounding word made your trusty organ completely stop.

That was definitely new.

He laughed again, a velvety sound that completely wiped your mind of whatever you were about to say. One of Ominis’ perfect eyebrows quirked up slightly, his teeth biting his lower lip in an attempt to hide his cheeky smirk.

Your jaw opened and closed like a fish gasping for air as you struggled to find your words again. Detangling one of your hands from the knot that your fingers made on your lap, you carefully placed it in his waiting palm; your heartbeat skipping again at the sight of his long, lithe fingers completely engulfing yours.

You stuttered around the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Y-Yes! I’d love to.”

The pretty blond’s smile only grew wider as he pulled you up to stand, his pearly white teeth catching the sun rays streaming through the large skylight above as he pressed his hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer until you were flushed with his chest. You prayed to the gods above that he couldn’t feel how harshly your heart was pounding in your chest.

Ominis carefully swayed the two of you to the beat of the music, his smooth voice humming softly in your ear again as he moved your bodies to and fro. Your shoulders slowly relaxed as the music picked up in volume, the warm-toned sound of the trumpets backing the warbly voice of the jazzy songstress flowing pleasantly through your ears and curling around the forefront of your mind. The boy started to move a bit more, taking your gentle breath against the junction of his neck as the go ahead to move the both of you in a more pronounced motion. As much as he loved messing with you, he still wanted you to feel comfortable around him. Ominis slowly spun you around, keeping small circles for now and letting himself truly relax into the music. His soft hums pittered off more and more with each passing moment, the sound soon being taken over by his singing voice melding with the lyrics of the song playing. Your heartbeat slowed as a contentedness filled your entire body. There was nothing in the world that you could compare the tonality of his voice to; it was truly divine— the lilt of his accent taking you like a breeze on a cooled, winter morning.

The music only got livelier the longer the two of you were tangled in the embrace. Saxophones sang alongside the standing bass with each swung note, trumpets called across the recording studio and were answered by the trombones on the other side, the piano plucked through a scattered melody that was finished by the vocalist. All the while, Ominis never faltered in his steps. You had never seen his smile so big before— so full of joy and life. Looking at him was like the sun had finally come out after a long, dreary blizzard. There was nowhere else you wanted to be in that very moment, everything was absolutely perfect.

As the ragtime piano sped up in tempo, so did your steps. The two of you spun around the large, expansive room, letting the music carry you away into its sweet oblivion. Your skirts gently brushed against Ominis’ calves as he swung your body where he wanted it to go, leading you to the best of his ability without his wand to guide him. You served as his eyes, gently pulling him away from things in your path like end tables or chairs as you climbed up and down the stairs, winding around your vivariums and through the grand, columned hallways connecting each section to the other. It wasn’t a good dance in the slightest, neither of you quite coordinated enough to warrant any applause or win any competitions. More often than not your feet ended up atop of his, but he never once flinched or grumbled at your lack of experience. The wiry boy was completely content in this little bit of chaos— he would happily let even the likes of a graphorn crush his toes if he could keep holding you in his arms like this. Your laughter mingled together, bouncing off the tall cathedral ceilings and ringing like the bells of Hogsmeade on a spring day, the smell of fizzing whizbees from Honeydukes and the tiny bangs of fireworks from Zonkos dancing together in the air.

All of it came crashing down, however, when you did not see the corner of your wizards chess table come into focus— much too distracted by the way the light of your gas lamps caught the white streaks in his pupil-less eyes just right. One wrong move of your ankle and down you both went, tumbling to the ground in a grand knot. Ominis quickly turned his body to shelter your fall, pulling you closer to his chest in a show of protection as he braced for impact against the cold stone floor. He landed first, a soft puff of air leaving his throat alongside a pained “ooph” as your dead weight pressed against his ribs. You clumsily gathered your bearings, scrambling up to your elbows and a rouged blush stretching from ear to ear as apologies fell frantically from your lips.

“Oh Merlin, I am so sorry, Ominis. How unbecoming of me, let me just—”

His arms tightened around your waist, his fingertips digging into your sides and keeping you steady and exactly where you were, giving you no room to move from his hold. The contact was near burning, like ten tiny hot coals against your skin. You didn’t think you could possibly blush anymore than you already were. Luckily, it seemed that Ominis was in a very similar state under you. His own cheeks were painted the color of roses, making his birthmarks stand out exponentially more against the normal paleness of his skin tone. You traced the tiny, homemade constellations, casting your eyes up more until they met his unseeing, wide-eyed stare. You had never been this close to the boy's face before— never noticed how deep his eyes were, like two endless whirlpools off the Clagmar coast. They drew you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into his frothing currents. You could see entire coastines in them, the seafoam tides that rolled through his turbulent irises smooth but strong like a riptide. There was no question in your mind that you would be completely content drowning in those waves.

Your thoughts came to a pause when the most adorable giggle you had ever heard came from the boy underneath you. His eyes began to crinkle at the corners as his smile grew wider, tiny little whimpers of a laugh escaping through his parted lips as the situation at hand began to take shape in his mind. Ominis’ entire face lit up like the sun as he laughed, the volume of his voice rising steadily until loud guffaws wracked through his entire body. The tremors vibrated where you were connected, sending a warming buzz through your system as you too were taken over by uncontrollable laughter. Your head fell to his chest, pressing your temple against his sternum as one of his hands reached upwards and thread its way into your hair. If anyone were to come into the room they would think you both had gone completely loony. Who knows, maybe you had. All you knew, though, was that this was the happiest you had felt in a very long time.

Your cackles soon slowly pittered down to soft giggles as you straightened your neck, opening your eyes again and gazing at the beautiful boy you were still on top of. You didn’t notice when he had stopped laughing with you, but the look on his face at that very second could have ceased time itself. Ominis’ lips were curled upwards in the softest smile you had ever seen, his eyes gentle and half lidded like a cat content in a sunbeam. You were sure he would be purring right now if he had the ability. He was somehow looking at you in a way that you could only describe as how the moon would look at the earth— like your laughter was the sole reason his world continued to spin on its axis.

Everything you had been feeling, every physical reaction that had confounded you as of late in regards to the blond suddenly made sense. You had not been cursed to act like a blithering idiot like you had originally thought, the answer was much more simple than that. It was truly idiotic how long it took you to realize the simple fact of the matter: you were in love with him. It wasn’t a shock when you finally pieced it together, if anything the revelation came to you as easy as breathing. You were in love with Ominis Gaunt, no if’s, and’s, or but’s.

One of your hands shifted slightly to the right, cradling the side of his face and soothing your thumb against his cheekbone as his reached to do the same, brushing the hair that fell from your bun behind your ear and gently holding the side of your jaw that he didn’t already have a hand on. A surge of bravery shocked through your veins like lightning as your eyes narrowed in on the soft curve of his cupid's bow, your face leaning minutely closer and your breath fanning against his lips as his eyes flitted closed.

Screw prosperity, and screw what was deemed “ladylike.” Right now, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and you didn’t think you would ever get another chance as perfect as this.

Your lips curled into a smile of your own as you whispered against his skin, mouth a hairs length away and gently brushing against his as you spoke. “I am going to kiss you now, Ominis, if that’s alright.”

All he could do was nod slightly, his own words nothing but a trick of the wind. As if he would ever deny you, and by extension himself, of that simple pleasure. “Okay…”

And then there was no more space between the two of you. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, both torn, well loved, and worn but still able to fit together no matter how many times your edges are frayed. There were no grand fireworks, nor bursts of stars behind your eyes as your mouths moved in tandem, just the feeling that this was right. This was what was missing from your life all of these years. His hands pulled your face impossibly closer, one set of fingers working their way under your top knot and gripping at your roots as you both poured everything you had been feeling into the other. For once, everything was bliss.

The kiss ended much sooner than you would have liked it to, but unfortunately as humans you needed to breathe every so often. Ominis’ smile was contagious as he pulled away, his breath fanning heavily across your cheeks as he pressed gentle pecks into your skin. It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. His subtle gestures of courting had finally worked.

“I have wanted to do that for so long.”

You snickered lightly, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Why didn’t you, then?”

It was his turn to laugh now, his breathy chuckle your new favorite sound. “It seems I’m just as clumsy with my emotions as you are, my dearest.”

You both dissolved into giggles again, letting your heartbeats slow back to a normal pace before continuing your activities from before. The gramophone continued to warble from the corner, beckoning you to dance once more with its saccharine song, and who were you to deny its call.

No, it may not have been a perfect dance, nor a perfect first kiss, but it was yours.

As you clamored off of the fallen blond, cradling his hand in yours as you helped him up from the floor and back into the dancing position you had found yourself in moments ago, you knew one thing for certain: there were definitely going to be more dances, and certainly more clumsiness, to come.

AN: I won't lie, I don't think this is my best. I still wanted to put it out there though. It's my birthday, pls be nice to me.

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis #fluff #just pure fluff #masterlist

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neonghostlights · 7 months

Note

Could I please request Eddie being dorky and coming over while Reader is babysitting? I imagine he tries to scare her like some bad scary movie first lmao

OMG HI MOUSE!! Okay this is adorable and I hope you like it! Thank you for your request 💗

Warnings: just fluff (: a little creepy lol

Wordcount: 1k

Did I Make You Scream?

You tucked Jamie into the plush mattress of your spare bedroom, his favorite blankies surrounding him like a cocoon to help this sleepover go smoother.

You watched as he drifted off to sleep and you celebrated internally to not risk waking him up.

Babysitting a six year old was tough. Your sister had a date tonight and that left you as the most trusted person to watch her little angel.

You loved your nephew, you really did. But it meant that you had to cancel your own plans with a certain man with long brown hair and big brown eyes.

You had bumped into Eddie at the mechanics after you moved back to Hawkins. You had been gone nearly a decade after highschool, deciding to stick around in the area you went to college at.

But now you were back, wanting to spend more time with your sister and your nephew. You hadn’t realized that the move would lead you to run into an old classmate from highschool that you had shared just a few classes with and never really talked to. That day chatting at the mechanic shop about your car turned into a date, which turned into five dates and now it wasn’t often that you went a day without talking to your boyfriend.

You settled on the couch, glancing up the stairs quickly to make sure you did in fact leave the guest room door cracked in case Jamie needed you. The warm bowl of popcorn settled onto your lap as you flipped through the channels.

It was that time of the year where the air cooled, leaves fell, and all your favorite scary movies were played on tv.

You loved it.

You set the popcorn on the table in front of you, sighing as you leaned your head back against the couch. Your new blanket that you had picked up earlier this week was lulling you to sleep. Your fuzzy pumpkin socks keeping you warm.

You fell asleep to the sound of the final girl screaming on screen but it didn’t last long when a knock on the door had you jolting up.

You craned your head, checking upstairs to make sure it wasn’t Jamie needing you.

You were about to brush it off as a dream, or maybe noise from the horror movie still playing on tv when you heard three loud knocks on the front door again.

You sat up, pushing the blanket to the side. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Who would be knocking on your door this time of night?

You crept towards the door, your fuzzy socks muting your trek. You stood on your tippy toes and looked through the peephole.

And nothing was there.

You shoved down your anxious thoughts. Maybe whoever it was was just standing slightly to the side so you couldn’t see them.

You unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open, stepping out onto the porch to get a better look at the emptiness that was before you.

Unless the pumpkins that lined your step, awaiting you and Eddie to carve them next weekend grew arms and legs then you had been ding-dong ditched.

You rolled your eyes before sending one more glance up and down your street. There was nothing there besides the orange and purple Halloween decorations that were draped over your neighbors house and the slow falling brown leaves of the trees that lined your street.

You backed up inside of the open and waiting door behind you, a chill traveling up your spine from the cool breeze.

You shut the door behind you and locked both locks immediately.

You crept up the stairs, peeking your head to see Jamie’s sleeping form lightly snoring. You took a moment to marvel at how your sister could make something so cute before you stepped back down the stairs.

You didn’t feel tired anymore after the door incident.

Something was telling you that you needed to stay awake.

You grabbed the bowl of popcorn off the couch and made your way to the kitchen, dumping its contents in the trash before placing the orange plastic bowl into the sink to worry about in the morning.

You went to back away from the sink when a large hand covered your mouth, muffling your scream. You felt yourself being pulled back against a warm body. You flailed your arms, fighting the attacker. Your hand grasped blindly for a weapon and landed on the popcorn bowl in the sink. You started waving it in the air one-handed, hoping to hit the person hard enough in the head to at least make it hurt a little.

“Oh, damn. Baby, it’s me,” you heard a familiar voice whisper as the calloused hand move away from your mouth.

You spun in the attackers arms to see Eddie’s wide eyes staring down at you.

You raised the plastic bowl, smacking him in the chest with it.

“Ow.”

“Eddie Munson! You scared the hell out of me!” You whisper yelled, still mindful of Jamie sleeping upstairs.

“I’m so sorry,” he laughed, sounding not sorry at all. “I didn’t think you would react like that, I thought you would know it was me.”

He pried the popcorn bowl from your hand and put it back in the sink.

You swallowed loudly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a normal rhythm again.

When he saw the distressed look on your face you could see the guilt and worry crossing his features.

He wrapped both arms around you again and pulled you to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was funny in my head. I didn’t mean to do that to you,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed, breathing in the scent that came with working on cars all day. It always relaxed you, to be close to him like this.

“It’s okay. It was funny. I’ve just been watching scary movies,” you said as you smiled up at him.

“If it makes you feel better you can scare me back,” he offered with raised brows.

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Let’s go watch a movie.”

You smiled sweetly, pulling him to your comfy spot on your couch, already concocting a plan to get him back even better than he had gotten you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson blurb

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rippersz · 8 months

Text

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

«——..✞..——»

Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

«——..✞..——»

Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

«——..✞..——»

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems x reader #principal larissa weems #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dead dove: do not eat #darkfic #cannibalism #cannibal larissa weems

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minimarvelh · 24 days

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Depressed!Peter hcs?

hi!! omg i am sorry if I’m not answering this question right😭❤️

I really like reading fics about depressed Peter, because I am myself have really severe depression episodes, so I really like to read fics about that and somehow relate to Peter🥲

one of the headcanons of mine is:

• after that building that fell on him he started to experience phantom chest pain and for the first time he started periodically experiencing panic attacks that were more often in a closet places like lift or classroom etc.

• because he is constantly thinking about not enough air he started to fail at classes

• at night he just can’t sleep because he is afraid that he would stop breathing

• patrolling became literally nearly impossible because he was out of breath always trying to breathe more and more air, but with that the only thing that was close to comfort he felt only by swinging between buildings

• with failing at classes and his fear about not getting enough air, he feels hopeless. At one point he would feel like something broken inside him. The fears are eating him alive and it seems like people didn’t seem to notice.

• at one day he thought about not going to classes. Just one day.. and he can be more useful as Spiderman (it was a lie, he just needed more air bug with that thought he tried to calm himself)

• but at one point Friday notified Tony that Peter spends an enormous amount of time at the streets and he certainly became concerned.

It’s just a small part, I have really huge amount of headcanons about depressed Peter, but now I am really sleepy and I am trying to not fall asleep while I am typing this hahaha😭❤️ i hope you are having a beautiful day!!

#irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderman #irondad spiderson #spiderson headcanon #ao3

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joohanisms · 9 months

Text

xdh + soft intimacy 💭💫

i'm not god's strongest soldier. i need fluff too.

cw: disgustingly sweet fluff, suggestive for jungsu, junhan and jooyeon, biting in jooyeon's, 1 little gross comment in ode's.

gunil

soft slaps on the ass.

drying your hair for you <3333333

getting ready for bed together. just being side by side with him in parallel play fashion while you put on your skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

if he's done sooner than you are, his arms are around your waist and his chin is on your shoulder, just holding onto you while you finish getting ready to finally join him under the covers and cuddle until you fall asleep

wearing soft, comfy pyjamas to bed every night. he might have even got you a matching set :-( or maybe he bought a single set and gave you the shirt so you're literally wearing the same pyjamas :-(

likes to wear said shirt to bed when you're away </3

jungsu

taking showers together !!

it doesn't even have to go the sexual route (although sometimes it does), only washing up and helping each other with gentle touches is more than enough.

would know your favorite shower temperature by heart :-) my loveliest.

would take your shampoo and wash your hair soooo gently, massaging your scalp .. if you have any tangles, he'll take the conditioner and slowly go through them.

but as much as he loves taking care of you, he loves being taken care of.

wash his hair with the fancy hair treatment shampoo, massage his scalp, make sure none of the suds fall too close to his eyes. he melts every time.

when it comes to washing your bodies, this is where the danger is at. sometimes you'll get too touchy for it to be .. sfw .. but! most of the time it's just soooooo tender.

body wash suds everywhere, hands everywhere, the occasional tickle and/or pinch..

also, if he was alone and he missed you for whatever reason, he'd steal your body wash so he can try and curb the longing :-( it never worked.

jiseok

looklooklook. sciency booky boy. if you're in uni he's coming with you to wherever you go to study.

he knows practicing guitar might make you lose your focus, so he likes to read or look into science thingies!!

baby likes being close to you and no matter how different your lifestyles might be, he likes to be included :-)

won't let you overwork yourself though.

if you're in public, he'll gently pull you out of your bubble and suggest you go eat something, take a walk, whatever.

though if you're home, he can be more affectionate. he'll come behind you and massage your scalp, run his hands along your body and go baby, let's rest a little, yeah? i have snacks ready for you!!!

if you end up dozing off beside him on the couch he'll nearly pull a muscle trying to get a blanket without waking you up. you wake up because of the jostling and he's actually a little relieved tbh.

will go c'mon, let's nap in a bed. we don't want your neck to be stiff in class tomorrow :-(

seungmin

i'm so sorry to say this. if you have acne he Will go can i pop it pwease... idk if this is a common couple practice throughout the world but it is where i live . peak levels of intimacy = popping your partner's pimples for the oddly satisfying vibe

loves online shopping with you!!!

you would sit together with a laptop on your laps and go babeee you'd look so good in this !!!!

cocky little bastard he is, he might go you should see me/yourself without it ;-) the only way to make him stop talking or smiling like a fool is to kiss him.

then you often end up saving money because you simply forgot about shopping lmaooo

on a softer note, you'd would window shop through the internet, falling into rabbit holes. when you realise, you're looking into real state in minnesota or baby shoes.

even though those seem funny and really far away, your hearts grow a little warmer <3

hyeongjun

idk personally i love i adore boys that are not afraid to be vulnerable.

okay, when the pair of you were still too fresh, too shaky, jun would be more reserved and think he'd be bothering you.

when the relationship gets established/stable though, he would get clingier, softer, coming to you with his worries, leaving you to pet his hair and reassure him :-(

when taking a nap he'll cuddle up to you, head under your chin and making himself as small as possible, and it's so endearing to see your lanky boyfie trying to be tiny so he can be babied and cooed at .. little does he know you'd do that to him even if he was 3m tall.

now, sex wise: when he feels vulnerable and in need of affection, he might go 🥺 could you. uh. lead tonight 🥺 and he'd be theeeee softest warmest loveliest little sub

jooyeon

holding your titties non sexually when you are alone.

cuddling? boob in hand. napping? head on boob. stressed? free stressball.

they're just really warm and soft :-(

omnomnomnom his love language is biting.

will lovingly bite any body part in reach of his mouth. nips at your neck just to watch goosebumps rise in your arms.

might've bitten you too hard once .. was So apologetic, he never wanted to hurt you :-(

but when the bite would bruise eventually, he would like it a little too much. he won't open this can of worms right now though

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adiluv · 9 months

Text

❥ COMPOSER + DOTING S/O HCS. ˚⊹꒷

💭୧・꒰word count꒱ 1055.

💰୧・꒰warnings꒱ possibly ooc.

🕊️୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! this was a really cute prompt, though i realized i was kinda drifting from it halfway, haha... they both dote on each other! this was also the first time i've written anything for frederick, so i apologize if i mischaracterized him—constructive criticism is always welcomed! hope you enjoy! ꒰˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱

꒰🎹꒱・Similarly to Joseph, Frederick is also a fairly closed-off and introverted aristocrat. His struggles with family and fame often lead him to unconsciously push people away, a rather curt persona in place to protect him from pain or disappointment. While I imagine that he’d struggle to show his appreciation for a more doting partner, I do think that he’d still be deeply grateful for the concern you show him.

꒰🎹꒱・Due to the nature of his fame, Frederick also faces struggles with his confidence and self-esteem, and takes some time to fully warm up to the idea of actually dating another person. Out of everybody else, you’d really choose him..? It’s just… Forgive him for being so blunt about it—difficult to believe. Surely, there would be somebody better suited. Such thoughts lead him to becoming slightly colder once you become official, but he quickly opens up again if you continue to show interest in being with him.

꒰🎹꒱・Leading into the next point, I imagine that Frederick’s preferred way of receiving affection would easily be words of affirmation. Reminding him that you care for him, that you love him and won’t abandon him—that you genuinely believe he possesses musical talent—it all serves as a ꒰much needed꒱ boost to his confidence. If you also express your preference to receive words of affirmation, he’ll do his best to reciprocate them, though his awkwardness can lead to some relatively comedic moments. He’s… trying his best.

꒰🎹꒱・One of his favorite ways to express affection, however, is undeniably through music. This becomes the main way that he’ll show his care for you during the beginning stages of your relationship, too—as he takes some time to become comfortable with being physical and doing things like cuddling. He takes great pleasure in being the one you come to when you’d like to hear a particular song, and you’re the very first to hear any and all of his new compositions. He’ll practically memorize your favorite songs as well—even if you don’t ask him to play them that often—as he’d like to make sure he can play them perfectly for you.

꒰🎹꒱・He’s also a shockingly good cook. After being disowned by his family and before he’d simply resigned himself to playing for the upper-class, Frederick had to provide entirely for himself, and he’d been quick in picking up such essential skills. If you’re feeling down, or—Yidhra forbid—injured after a match, he’ll sneak into the manor’s kitchen and make you something in the attempt to cheer you up. You try to do the same for him, though his skills seem to surpass your own.

꒰🎹꒱・His psychasthenia has turned him into quite the hopeless insomniac, though his arrival in the manor has only exacerbated the issue. The halls tend to become eerily quiet at night, most other inhabitants tending to fall asleep rather quickly due to the exhaustion of matches. Without any music—or sound, even—it’s terribly difficult for him to block out the noises in his mind. There’s been many times where you’ve invited him to sleepover only to wake up during the night and find him watching you with a dead tired expression on his face. You nearly even screamed the first time it happened.

꒰🎹꒱・Although it doesn’t always fully block out those noises, humming along to the tune of one of his piano pieces does do quite a lot for him, and he greatly appreciates it whenever you do so. While the thought of doing so seems rather cruel to you, he knows that it would be far easier for you to just… drift back off to sleep and leave him to his own misery—and he regards those late-nights as some of the most peaceful moments within the manor.

꒰🎹꒱・Once he ꒰eventually꒱ warms up to the idea of cuddling, expect to find Frederick unconsciously tapping your skin as though he’s playing the piano. Whether it be your arm, back, or leg, it’s a rather uncontrollable habit of his—and he tends to get incredibly embarrassed if you tease him for it. This habit of his will also grant you sneak-peeks into any new compositions he’s been working on, and there have been times when he’s shot up from his spot after getting an idea for another chord or melody.

꒰🎹꒱・His room can only really be described as an organized mess. Filled with various types of sheet music and instrumental equipment, Frederick knows the location of absolutely every one of his things—even if they all seem to have been thrown around haphazardly. Before realizing just how attuned he was to the trainwreck within, you’d attempted to help him out by cleaning his room for him—though your efforts were rewarded with the sight of Frederick doing his very best to keep from yelling. Truly, he did appreciate the sentiment, but… How about you just leave it to him, next time?

꒰🎹꒱・He will, at least, try to make his room slightly more presentable whenever you decide to visit it. Even still, he usually only remembers to do this when you’re already standing right outside his door. Watching him open it with an annoyed look on his face, realize that it’s you, and then quickly close the door once again so he can rush to try and clean is incredibly hilarious—and you often have to force down your laughs until he’s out of sight again.

꒰🎹꒱・Frederick is highly prone to migraines due to his habit of overworking himself. You find yourself having to physically drag him away from his piano whenever this happens, as he’s seemingly far more willing to endure the unnecessary pain than to simply take a break and allow himself the time to recover. Even so, offers to massage his scalp are almost immediately accepted, and it’ll occasionally allow him to fall into a much needed slumber. Despite the occasional twitch of his brow, he looks quite peaceful, especially so with his hair down and spread out.

꒰🎹꒱・Has the tendency to bite the skin on his lips whenever he’s working on composing a new piece. They’re incredibly chapped because of this, his immense focus often leading him to neglect things like drinking enough water. You do bring him glasses, but they usually just pile up around his desk. A slight scolding, and he’ll make sure to clear that queue of water before getting right back to work.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#identity v #identity 5 #idv #id5 #idv composer #idv frederick #frederick kreiburg #frederick kreiburg x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons #identity v headcannons #idv headcannons

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mastermindmiko · 5 months

Text

Potions Partner (Part 15)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy + fem!reader

word count: 3060

warnings: not eating well, not sleeping well, angst, heartbreak, crying

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

part 16

requests are open

an: I think that I'm reusing GIFs at this point

It seemed like life got a million times worse once she didn’t get to share it with Draco. Everything good became less exciting and everything disappointing made her miserable. She never thought she’d be this affected by a boy in her life, and the boy being Draco Malfoy of all people.

The worst part of it all was that other people saw her become more sad, and none of them knew why, they thought that she didn’t have a reason. Harry would roll his eyes when he saw her coming to class late because she overslept.

Her only solace was Ron and Hermione even though they both were at each other’s throats most of the time, they sometimes joined forces to help her out, she couldn’t be more grateful. It seemed that Hermione had to hold Ron back from punishing Draco several times during the day, but she couldn’t say that she was opposed to the idea of Ron punching Draco.

To make matters worse, it seemed that he was suddenly everywhere. He came to dinner and lunch more often and she saw him chatting with his friends more. The things that he didn’t do the first semester. It seemed as though he led a better life without her by his side. The only thing that kept that idea from consuming her entirely was the way his eyes seemed more tired. But it wasn’t enough.

She’d gotten so used to him, so very used to him. Her bed wasn’t as comfortable. She didn’t like hugging a pillow while falling asleep, she preferred Draco’s chest, and his arms.

Harry wasn’t making this easier. His seemingly obsession with Draco was growing more and more by every second. Harry talked about either his potions book or about Draco, nothing else. She’d have to hear his accusations of Draco being a death eater, and she didn’t have the energy to fight him about it anymore.

It felt so entirely silly that her entire life was brought down by his absence. Her grades were slipping, she wasn’t as good a Quidditch player as she was. It seemed so pathetic, she felt so pathetic. She never understood why so many of her friends were affected by boys, but now she couldn’t think about anything but him.

The biggest question that echoed in her head was why? Why did he break up with her? Why was he acting like this? And so many more questions that she never found the answer to.

She knows that she should hate him. She really should not even tolerate his existence. She should go back to hating him the way she did when she was younger, but she doesn’t. She feels so stupid that she doesn’t. He was all she ever thought about, and why he wasn’t with her. She falls asleep to the pain knowing that she would’ve joined her brother in hating him, if she loved him even a little less.

She sits in the Great Hall with her friends surrounding her, but all she could do was play with the food on her plate with her fork. Harry interrupts her brain of thought with him saying, “We’ve got practice after classes, okay?”

She hums and Ron mumbles an okay, looking at her with concern. Hermione does the same, biting her lip. Hermione’s gaze moves to the Slytherin table and she notices Malfoy looking at her friend with a frown on his face.

Hermione had decided to take matters into her own hands after nearly three weeks of seeing her best friend sulk around the castle. They had finished their history of magic lesson early, and Draco didn’t waste a second in leaving the classroom. Hermione rushed after him.

He went into a secluded hallway and he was walking at an incredibly fast pace. Hermione jogged to become closer to him and she shouted his name. He turned back for a second, saw her then turned the other way, and said, “Not in the mood to talk to you Granger.”

She rolled her eyes and rushed up to grab his shoulder. She stopped him and seethed, “I don’t care about your mood, Malfoy. All I care about is Y/N, and you’ve hurt her.”

He folded his arms over his chest, defensively, but she continued talking anyway. “She won’t tell me, but I know she loves you, and I know you love her back. Why you’ve decided to be an idiot and stop being with her is a mystery to me. But I sure hope that for your sake, that you’ll make it right.”

She pokes his shoulder with her finger then she marches into the opposite direction. The sound of her shoes clack against the marble floors and she turns to head to her next class. The class was Defense against the dark arts. She walks inside her class to see her friend sleeping on the desk. She frowns, hoping that Draco would make things right. She walks to sit next to her and the noise of Hermione sitting on the chair, startles her awake.

She sits up, looking at her friend. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and asked, “What took you so long? Class was about to begin, and I know you love to have all your notes and stuff ready before.”

“I had something to take care of.”

***

As much as she was surprised to come to the conclusion, she had to admit that Theodore was a good partner in potions. While she would hate going to potions lessons because they reminded her of what she and Draco had, Theodore was a good distraction, and friend.

He wouldn’t talk a lot, and he wouldn’t mention Draco if he did, which she appreciated. He let her help with the potions and he helped her if she didn’t understand something. He’d make sure she didn’t make any mistakes, and if she did make any, he would help her correct them.

She would call Theodore her friend, but she wasn’t sure if he would consider her the same with him being Draco’s best friend. She still worried about him despite everything, she had to restrain herself from asking Theodore how Draco was doing. She highly doubted he would answer her truthfully anyway. She wondered if Draco asked Theodore about her.

She had her books in her bag that was slung over her shoulder. She was late again, she had overslept. She stayed the entire night up, just staring at the ceiling and when she got up, she noticed that she had already missed breakfast. Her stomach was rumbling while she ran through the corridors.

She burst in the class effectively startling professor Slughorn. He jumped, placing a hand over his chest. He looked at her angrily, and she apologized quickly, “I’m so sorry professor. I didn't mean to be late really.”

He nodded his head and smiled. She smiled back, and he continued explaining. She made her way back to her desk and she passed Hermione, giving her a glare for not waking her up. Hermione pursed her lips then looked away with wide eyes.

She paused when she noticed that Theodore wasn’t sitting in his chair, but rather someone else was occupying his place. It took her a few seconds to process that piece of information. Draco noticed her presence and he looked up at her. She turned around, quickly to see if there were any other spots in the room.

There were no free spots, and so, begrudgingly, with her heart hammering against her chest. She moves the last few steps towards her chair. Silently, she places her bag beside her and stares, a bit too hard in front of her. She doesn’t look at him the entire lesson.

When the break came, she just watched Harry, Hermione and Ron talk to each other, but mostly just Harry and Ron. Hermione and Ron were still on edge with each other, but they seemed more civil. Draco cleared his throat from beside her, trying to get her attention, but she ignored him.

“I’ve brought you this…you missed breakfast.” Draco said, showing a muffin wrapped in tissues in his hand. He tried to hand it to her, under the desk. She remembers the thing that she hates the most about their relationship, back when they had one, the secrecy.

She didn’t reply and she didn’t move an inch. Her heart ached, why was he being nice all of a sudden? He sucked in a breath and he continued, “I know you never liked to eat large dinners, so you get really hungry in the morning, you should take it.”

She hates how the gesture warms her heart. She gulps, but doesn’t give him any reaction. He shuffles beside her, and he sucks in a deep breath. He places the muffin on the table, and he asks, “Would you like to go out with me?”

That brings a reaction out of her. She lets out an incredulous huff, and looks at him with so much anger and surprise. He clasps his mouth shut, and looks at her anxious. She stands up, abruptly, and she shoves her things inside her bag, haphazardly.

She nearly runs out of class, but not before mumbling a small apology to Professor Slughorn. He squeaks at her rushing past him and outside of class. She runs, hoping to reach the common room. She hears Draco call out her name, and she starts to walk faster.

He rushes and grabs her arm to stop her from walking. She shoves her out of his grasp and she shouts, “You do not get to act like everything is normal and fine, when you broke up with me! Out of the blue with no explanation, and in such a cold hearted way, changing your seat, ignoring me-”

“I’m sorry.” He says, amidst her rant. She purses her lips and scoffs. She turns to walk away. She only gets a few more steps in before he traps her between his chest and the wall of the hallway. She sucks in a deep breath at their close proximity that she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

“I’m sorry. Take me back, please. Please.” he pleads and she avoids his gaze. She smells his familiar scent, the one that she fell asleep to, and she couldn’t help the way her eyes started to tear up. She blinked them back, but knowing that he already saw them. He says, “I miss you so much, and I’m so sorry.”

He lifts a hand to cup her cheek. It still cradles her face perfectly. His calloused fingers against her smooth skin as he rubs her thumb over the skin, makes her heart ache at the familiar action. She brings her hand to his wrist to bring his hand down. He places his other hand over her own to stop her, and he rushes, “It was a mistake, I’m sorry.”

“I thought I could live without you, but I can’t. I can’t do anything without you, I need you. I can’t even sleep without you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, just take me back, please. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Please, let me be yours again.” he says, and he starts crying. His tears drip down his face and his lips shake as he speaks.

“You hurt me-” She began with her own eyes, becoming glazed. He takes his hand off of hers and brings it to cup her face. He brings her close to him, and forces her to meet his eyes. He cuts her off, “I know, I know. I’m so sorry. Forgive me, please, please, please.”

He repeats his pleas again and again, until her own face is stained with tears. He rests his forehead against hers, and he wipes her tears with his thumbs. He whispers, shakily and pained one last time, “Please.”

She takes in a shaky breath, finally noticing how fast her heart was going. She looked at him, and his glassy eyes, and she hates herself for starting, “You’ll make it up to me-”

“I will, I will. Every moment of every day, until you trust me again. I want you.” He says, and his breathing becomes more regulated. She grinds her teeth against each other in thought, she wants him just as much as he wants her, maybe even more. She whispers, “Okay…”

Draco breaks, and he wraps his arms around her tightly, moving from her face to her waist. He grips the material of her uniform as he hugs her. He started sobbing, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him too. He sobs, “I hate myself for hurting you.”

He presses small kisses on her shoulder, softly. In the way that calms her down, and she wraps her arms around him even more tightly. She missed him and this so much. She threads her fingers through his hair, and he sighs against her.

They hold each other for a few minutes. She remembers and revels in him. She couldn’t do this again, she can’t have him hurt her again. Her chest constricts at the thought. She pulls a bit from him to look him in the eye, but he keeps her close to him. She says, “If you hurt me again, I won’t ever forgive you again.”

He nods his head. She looks at him and notices how tired he is from the dark circles under his eyes. He looks even paler, if possible. She forgot how much she loved the little blue specks in his grey eyes. He must’ve been admiring her as well because he leans down, then he hesitates, “Can I kiss you?”

She nods her head, and he leans down. Her stomach flips in anticipation, her body itching to kiss him again. He ghosts his lips over hers. She closes the small gap between them, and she feels the soft skin of his lips press on her lips. She feels her heart race too fast, and she parts their lips.

She’s panting despite the short-lasting contact. He trails after her lips, and presses his lips on hers again. She tries to feel content in kissing him, but she feels her chest constrict, her brain ringing, telling her this is a bad idea. She parts her lips again, and she says, “I’m sorry…I’ll need a time to get used to…this again.”

He nods his head in understanding. She presses her lips against each other tightly, and she brings him to a hug once again. He’s content with just being around her again. They stay like this until she feels her legs start to ache. She moves away from him and she says, “I should go.”

“Okay…” his face falls, but he gives her that small smile that she loves so much. His hand reaches into his pocket and brings out the crimson stone. He holds it out to her and he says, “Here you go, you can bring your things too when you come by.”

“I think I’ll wait a bit before doing that.” She says, scared that he’ll kick her out again when she does it. It would be easy to move her things though, they’re still in the magic box that he gave her. She moves her left hand to take the stone from his hand. He pauses when he notices his ring still on her finger.

“You didn’t take it off.” He holds her hand and rubs the ring with his fingers. Admiring the colour against her skin, and knowing that by now his name that is engraved inside the ring has probably left a mark on her skin. She looks at her hand and she lies, “Oh, I didn’t even notice that I still did.”

She moves her hand to her other one and starts to slide it off her finger, she says, “You can have it back if you want.” Draco stops her before it is halfway to her finger. He slides it back, and he says, “no, no. Keep it on.”

He smirks, and it causes a weird feeling in her chest that feels something like bitter nostalgia. She would always act annoyed by his cocky and arrogant attitude, but god, does she love it. He says, “You know how I like green on you.”

The words remind her of the gift that she had gotten for him a few weeks ago during break that is stashed under piles of clothes, forgotten. It was foolish of her to plan that far ahead with all that has been going on in the world, and without knowing how stable her relationship was. She thought it was, but apparently it wasn’t.

The school bell rings, and she furrows her eyebrows at the fact that they’ve been like this for an hour. People were about to exit classrooms and see them together. Draco leaned down and asked, “Will you come by tonight?”

“Yeah, if everything goes as it should.” She says, and he nods his head. They hear the class doors open and he nods his head once more. She can tell that he wants to kiss her goodbye, but she doesn’t feel like she should. She couldn’t help but remember the way she felt while kissing him, and how uncomfortable she felt.

He leaves and she heads back to the class. She moves to the potions classroom, and just when she was about to enter, her friends exit with worried, and concerned looks on their faces. Ron asks as soon as he sees her, “What happened?”

“He was just being an idiot.” She said, giving him a pointed look, quickly looking at Harry. Ron’s mouth forms an O in understanding, and he nods his head. Harry folds his arms in front of him, and he says, “Why did he follow you?”

“Just to pester me more, you know how he is.” she huffs and folds her arms in front of her, trying to seem irritated. Harry seems satisfied with the answer for a while before he asks, “Where were you the rest of the lesson?”

“Common room.” She answers, and he hums. He starts walking to his next class. They all walk a bit slower than him, and Hermione whispers in her ear, “What happened?”

“I have a boyfriend again.”

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@urbansaint @angelofasgard16 @love-me-satoru

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mycenalucentipes · 10 months

Text

You Won't Understand || Draco Malfoy x GN!Reader

Summary: Where, you stumble upon Draco mid breakdown in a secluded part of the library. Draco hisses for you to go away, believing that you’ll never understand his problems. You scoff, saying, “try me”, thus starts a newfound companion.

Word count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some comfort towards the end?

a/n: Hi, I just wanted to write a fic in where, the reader also struggles with not being good enough, and finally, maybe, someone will understand what they’re going through. I might’ve self projected all of my worries and trauma from my high school days lol. There's a longer explanation for that at the end if anyone wants to read xD

But anyways, please enjoy

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the library. It was lunchtime, and you were supposed to be in the Great Hall with your friends. However, earlier that day, you received a Howler from your mother.

“Y/N L/N. YOU HAVE BEEN SLACKING OFF IN YOUR STUDIES AGAIN HAVEN’T YOU!? YOU ONLY RECEIVED AN EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS ON YOUR LAST EXAM. HOW COULD YOU!? DON’T EXPECT TO COME HOME WITH THOSE GRADES. IF YOU RECEIVE ANYTHING LESS THAN AN OUTSTANDING ON THE REST OF YOUR EXAMS, DON’T EVEN BOTHER COMING HOME.”

Thankfully you were in the privacy of your dorm room when you received this. Everyone had already left for the day. Your mother, a proud Ravenclaw, was deeply ashamed that you were sorted into the Slytherin house instead of hers. So to compensate, she relentlessly tortured you to always achieve the highest marks possible. After graduating Hogwarts, she attended the University of Oxford and ended up working for a different prestigious university as a researcher in neurology.

Your father on the other hand was not a wizard. He was a muggle that your mother had fallen in love with while she attended regular university. He was also a neurologist, a man of science. He despised the magic part of you. It was a rude awakening when you got your letter from Hogwarts and your mother had to explain everything about her world. She fought him hard and long to send you to Hogwarts, so you couldn’t completely despise her. However, since they both wanted the best of their worlds for you, their expectations were too high in the sky for a mere sixteen-year old. Your father wanted you to attend the most prestigious university for med school while your mother just wanted you to be the top of your class. She figured you could become a healer at St. Mungo's or gain a high position in the Ministry of Magi. (She might be trying to live vicariously through you, as she gave up any jobs involving magic.)

As a result, you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. For now, since you and your father weren’t exactly on speaking terms, your mother was the only one who even seemed to care. Thus, you focused all of your attention on your studies within the past month. Often skipping meals or falling asleep during them. Your friends began noticing the toll it took on you–your face grew paler and more tired, your hands shook, and dark circles formed under your eyes from countless all-nighters. Needless to say, you were incredibly freaked out for your next exam.

If you didn’t receive an Outstanding, you would not have anywhere to go for the summer. Maybe you could spend it with the Weasleys? You managed to befriend Ginny, Fred, and George. Ron was a little harder to get him to come around, just because you were a Slytherin.

On your way to the library, you nearly ran head first into Ginny. Oh, how coincidental. Before you even had a chance to apologise, she started rambling.

“Oh hey, Y/n! I was just looking for you, I haven’t seen you at any meals today,” She said with worry evident on her face, “Are you alright? Please, come back to lunch with me. I miss you, Y/n. We're all worried about you.” You cast her a guilt-ridden look.

“I’m just heading to the library. I need to perfect my knowledge for the next exam,” You sighed defeatedly with a small chuckle.

“But, Y/n–” Ginny began, concern lacing her voice. This time, you wore an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry Ginny, I just can’t. I–uhm, can I ask a favour from you though?” Avoiding eye contact out of shame, you looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer.

“Of course Y/n, anything.” Ginny reached out and rubbed your arm in an attempt to comfort you.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Could I possibly stay at your place over the summer?” You hung your head down, eyes filled with unshed tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet Ginny’s gaze. “My mother owled me to say: If you don’t get O’s on the rest of your exams, don’t even think about coming home, child!” Ginny gasped softly, eyes widening at the words that stammered out of your mouth.

“Oh, Y/n, of course you can stay with us. I'm sure you'll be alright, but you're always welcome to stay with us,” She replied, her voice brimming with sympathy. You gave a short nod of thanks, unable to speak or your tears would escape your eyes. “I suppose I’ll see you later then? Please, come to dinner at least.” You once again nodded, giving her a small smile. She smiled back as well, then turned and left you once again.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The exhaustion and tiredness from it all was creeping in, eating away at you slowly.

You were so tired. When would it get better? When would it end?

As you entered the library, your eyes scanned the endless rows of books, searching for a quiet place to study. That’s when you noticed a figure hunch in a cushioned chair by a window, their shoulders shaking and trembling.

It was Draco Malfoy. A boy that you weren’t really on any terms with. Occasional waves from you and small nods from him were the extent of your communication.

Forgetting about your own woes for a moment, you cautiously approached him, uncertain if he would react kindly to your presence. Once you were about five feet away from him, his head snapped up. Then you saw his face. Tears pooled out of his eyes every few seconds, his lips trembled, then his brows narrowed.

“What are you doing here?” Draco spat out, his voice a little hoarse.

You hesitated for a moment, taking in the situation you just landed yourself in. Despite the venomous sounding tone, you could detect that he really hadn’t meant it that way. Ignoring his question, you stepped closer, concern etched on your own features.

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, your voice filled with genuine worry, “I–Is there anything I can do?”

Draco averted his gaze, trying to hide the pain and tears in his eyes. “It’s nothing. Just go away, please. You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. You narrowed your eyes at this.

“Oh, I wouldn’t? Why, because I’m not a pureblood? Because I 'don’t have any expectations placed onto me'? Hmm?” You retorted back, unsure why you spat back such a defensive response. He looked slightly taken aback at your words.

“Yes, precisely. Wow, you're so smart,” his voice dripping with sarcasm, he rolled his eyes, then slumped back in the chair.

You folded your arms. “Try me, then. I won’t tell anyone, I swear it," you challenged him, not budging.

He narrowed his eyes at you once again, unsure if he should open up. After a moment of internal struggle, he sighed with defeat. “If you really must know, There’s just–just so many expectations weighing on me. If I’m not good enough, it will be a disaster for my parents and me. I don’t want to risk anything, and the pressure is so... suffocating. I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he reluctantly started, but soon couldn’t stop, he didn’t know why he was sharing all of this with some random classmate.

“I’m not good enough for him. I don’t even feel that I’m good enough for my parents. My father always says: Malfoys do this, Malfoys don’t do that. Then my mother is already trying to arrange a marriage for me. I wish everyone’s expectations of me would just disappear.”

“But how would you ever understand that type of pressure?” He sighed in frustration as you just nodded along. muttered quietly, but you still heard him.

You didn't know who 'he' was, but you sure as fuck knew about pressure from parents.

“Sorry to interrupt your little pity party, Malfoy,” you sighed, meeting his glare with a calm gaze. “But let me tell you, I do understand the feelings of pressure and not being good enough for someone. I’m going to get kicked out of my home by my mother if I don’t get Outstandings on every single last assignment. She's dead serious about that. My father and I aren’t on speaking terms because he thinks being magical is stupid. He wants me to attend muggle medicine university. My mother shames me everyday for being in Slytherin and not her perfect little Ravenclaw house. They both expect me to do what they want without giving me a choice. If I’m not their perfect little daughter, I’ll just get shunned and kicked out. Disowned. I'm just their disappointment,” you rambled out, “but I suppose this little talk shouldn’t be about me. Sorry, didn't mean to spin it like that. Just forget it.”

Maybe your family's reputation wasn't as important as the Malfoys, but nonetheless, you were sure you would become disowned by them. They had set unrealistic expectations out of you. Your mental health was rapidly declining, if it hadn’t already hit rock bottom, your feelings were valid and you won’t let anyone tell you otherwise. However, your parents didn’t seem to care about your feelings.

"I definitely know how it feels. Like someone is drowning or suffocating you. There's no breaks. And it's all ridiculous because we are just teenagers. So what the fuck, life?" You angrily whisper out.

Draco stared at you, momentarily speechless. “I… I had no idea,” he murmured out, “it seems you are capable of understanding this more than I thought.” You mirrored the speechlessness, unsure if you should be insulted or relieved by his admission. He looked away from you, staring out the window for a brief moment.

“It’s alright, Draco. No one really notices anyways,” you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush your feelings away again. Even though you pushed for Draco to share his feelings, you felt like a burden doing the same thing.

You went to approach him, stepping into the rays of sunlight that beamed in from the windows. It wasn’t until now that Draco took in your full appearance. He never paid you much mind, as you weren’t a pureblood or in his friend group, but friends with the Weasleys. You truly were a beauty. You had godly features that rivalled any of the most attractive students. Your hair cascaded softly around your face, accentuating your facial features. It was also then, he realised just how malnourished and exhausted you were looking. The sunken eyes, pale face, bloodshot eyes and slightly trembling form. He was sure a gust of wind would knock you over.

“You look like shit, L/n.” Draco said flatly, instantly realising the bluntness of his comment. Your eyes widened at his comment.

“I–I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He apologised? Who was this imposter and what did he do with Draco Malfoy?

“Gee, thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.” You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaped your lips. Attempting to brush his concern off and divert the attention away from yourself, you shot back, “Have you seen yourself though? I could say the same.” Draco just shook his head with amusement on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. But, it’s clearly not ‘nothing’. A gust of wind could knock you over,” he retorted back, though his gaze softened. You scoffed at him. He couldn’t explain why he suddenly cared, why he wanted to reach out to you. Maybe it was because you made him feel calmer? The gentle aura you carried around when others were there was relaxing and a good change of pace. Maybe it was the fact that you also shared the same feelings of struggle as him. Not being accepted or feeling good enough for everyone. You tried to help him (in your own challenging way), now he wanted to help you, at least just a little.

You hummed a little, shying away a little for the first time. “Well, perhaps we could both use a break from trying to meet everyone’s expectations. Maybe we can help each other out,” you suggest, “though I don’t know how to help out with the whole pureblood traditions thing, I’ll be around for you if you need some support. Or just a friend to hangout with or vent to.” Draco nodded along with your plan, not feeling too opposed to this.

“And I can help you with your studies,” he offered with a soft tone. You nodded as well, giving a genuine smile this time.

+==+==+

Over the next few weeks, you and Draco spent more and more time together. Sometimes it would be hardcore study sessions. Where it felt like the questions he quizzed you on were never ending. Other times, it would be ranting about everything and nothing. It helped both of you get some weight off your chests. A couple times, you took trips to Hogsmeade to chat over a butterbeer or three.

You could say it was a friendship. You weren’t sure how he felt, but you could feel yourself falling for the Slytherin boy. Though you knew it might not end well, with him being a ‘pureblood’ and all. Such bullshit that is. You often told him that was your opinion on the pureblood traditions, he would just chuckle, sadness laced in it occasionally.

“Y/n, how do you feel about your grades?” Draco asked casually as you both walked down an empty hallway. Your face paled and your body froze in your steps. The feeling always haunted you, no matter how much you talked it over, it would still haunt you. Draco came to a halt and turned towards you, voice laced with genuine worry, “Y/n?” He could see the inner turmoil your brain shoved you into, and it pained him more than it should have to see you like this.

You tried to shake yourself out of anxiety’s grip. “I’m not too sure to be honest. I’m waiting on three exams and two homework grades still…,” you trailed off, drowning in your worries again.

“Hey, hey, you’ll be ok, alright?” He said with a much softer tone while placing his hands on your arms. Over the weeks, you both became immaculate at reading each other’s signs of worry or anxiety, knowing exactly what to do.

“You don’t know that, Draco,” you sighed, “although, maybe staying with the Weasleys would be better for my mental health anyways.” At this thought, you felt a little more relieved, but no matter how much you tried not to care, these feelings would forever haunt you.

“A–anyways, how about you? How’s your whole… family thing?” You asked, deflecting any more concern that came your way.

“It’s uh… still not great. Mother called off any preset engagements, however she still wants me to at least try going on the dates.” He grumbled. It was a little progress. You encouraged him to express his feelings with his mother, maybe it would change her mind. You knew it was a long shot to be able to change the traditions of hundreds of years, but why not try now?

“Oh! Well, I suppose that’s… a little good then?” You tilted your head a little, becoming lost in thoughts again. You wondered if her mind would ever change enough to let you potentially date Draco. No, you haven’t confessed anything to Draco, but your feelings weren’t dying.

Draco scrunched his nose and gave a slight nod. “Yes, I suppose so. Maybe, someday, she’ll let me date whoever I want, without worrying about blood status…” Your eyes widened, a blush spreading across your cheeks and to your ears.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” You stammered out. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you could’ve sworn that was implying he wanted to date you. Little did you know, you were correct. Maybe someday it would work out, but for now, both of you were content with your ever growing friendship. Though, can you really call this a friendship? You were sure it dug deeper than just that.

looong a/n: So, I might’ve self projected all of my worries and trauma from my highschool days. I went to a public hs, but good god, the standards were high. Anything less than an A was a failure. I had friends crying over 94%’s… I had a couple friends that would get locked out of their houses for the day if they brought home C’s. I, myself, never felt smart enough either. My friends always scored higher than me.

I maintained a solid 3.8 GPA, but it just wasn’t as high as my friends’ with their 3.9’s and 4.0’s :’). So I spent my whole grade school career, never feeling smart enough. I cried myself to sleep most nights from the stress of it all. My parents would get onto me and had really high expectations for me as well. It took my dad forever to realise I'm going to sometimes get C's because some subjects just don't click and I crumble under pressure. No matter how hard I study, I cannot always get A's. That should be okay, but my parents....hhhhh. It’s taken me a little bit of time to start undoing the feeling that if I don't get A’s, I’m a failure.

Though, I’m finally realising that grades aren’t everything in life, and it’s ok. I’ll still aim for the top, but I’m not sacrificing my mental health for it again. (I still have a 3.8GPA at uni, but now I’m studying smarter ;) and uni has been slightly easier than high school, wtf.) I’m not trying to sound stuck up or snobby, I promise and I apologise. That was just the school mindset I was raised in. In which, I’m trying to undo some of those more painful mindsets.

I’m trying to learn that my efforts are enough. I’m putting my best work in while not sacrificing my sanity this time. I’m enough, you’re enough, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Thanks for reading if you did!

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #nicosnwrites #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x gn! reader #your mental health matters so don't let anyone tell you otherwise #malfoy x reader

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