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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months

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A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

Head Canons!

Professor O’Hara was an intimidating man, to say the least. Despite his menacing exterior, he came highly recommended and sought after as a professor due to his ability to clearly get the material across. At times, it felt cutthroat, but he only meant well. He was just very passionate about his job and wanted everyone to learn.

You didn’t think he was scary at all. In fact, that first day of lecture, you new you were doomed. All you saw was a poor, misunderstood, teddy bear of a man. You thought it was so endearing how his glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, or how he filled out his button ups and vests: equal parts of muscle and squish <3

n you totally stared at his huge butt and dick print oops what I didn’t say that what-

Professor O’Hara who’s scowl would melt away when you’d hurry into class, completely dismissing that fact that you were late. People who had him previously would be so confused that the Miguel O’Hara is stumbling on his own words during a lecture. Little did they know that it was because you, his very pretty and very eager student, was sitting front row and center. You’d fix your hair or apply lip gloss hoping you’d get his attention, and you succeeded.

Professor O’Hara thought you were so cute. He loved the way you dressed, the way you’d raise your hand and ask such good questions, the way you took notes, making them look equally as adorable as you. It didn’t help that you were a total ace in his class. Your brains n beauty were going straight to both of his heads……..

Professor O’Hara who although was naturally pretty distant and quiet with students, was trying very hard to be vocal with you, making sure to let you know when you were doing good. “Good job today, Mama.” “Thank you for being so involved in class today, mama, I appreciate it.” “Aye, Mama, make sure you get some sleep before the quiz tomorrow, mkay?” “Have a safe weekend, mama, and please, if you need anything, you have my email. It doesn’t matter what time it is.” and if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, he’d definitely leave notes for you when handing back your work <3

Professor O’Hara who now wakes up earlier and takes longer to get ready in the morning. For you. He would put on his most expensive cologne knowing you liked to ask for help. You’d smell it every time he bent over your desk behind you, enough so that the timbre of his low voice tickled your ear and his belly just barely grazing your back.

Professor O’Hara who was developing his own crush on you, even though it was definitely wrong. Besides, you were a model. He was convinced that even if he were a student, he wouldn’t have a chance with you.

Professor O’Hara who always felt his eyes gravitating toward you in the mass of seats when lecturing, as if he forgot what you looked like and needed to see your face again. You’d tilt your head n give him a smile each time he did, as if telling him you’re following along, and this rattled him. He’d smile back right before shying away from your gaze, clearing his throat and starting wherever he left off on in his lesson. You thought that was cute.

Professor O’Hara who was always there for you when you were troubled, his office becoming a place you frequented for comfort. He was a great ear, elbows on his knees and brows furrowed as he listened to your trials and tribulations. Pobrecita preciosa. He hated seeing you this way. His bear hugs always seemed to make the troubles go away.

Professor O’Hara who would praise you after seeing all the work you put into his class. Anytime you were stressed, he’d take you some place other than his office to relax, maybe buy you some tea or your favorite pastry. He’d take those opportunities to learn more about you, asking you in a gentle, sweet tone about your other studies, your goals, your life etc. he’d hopelessly fall for you even more when watching you speak about things you were passionate about, seeing how your eyes sparkled. He’d try to keep his composure by maintaining a stoic expression, but a small smile would crack every time. He was a melting mess.

Professor O’Hara who would keep all your assignments and reread them at home since you liked to leave him little notes like, “ So lucky to have you as a professor” “Amazing class today!” “Looking forward to our tutoring sesh tmw<3”, the curvy letters of your pretty hand writing feeding into his desires for you, those same desires going from wholesome to more lustful.

Professor O’Hara, who’s walls you break down with your kindness, intelligence, humility, and beauty. He’d play with your hair during tutoring sessions, buy you things that reminded him of you, call you ‘mama’ when no one else was around. He loved the way you knit your brows together telling him he shouldn’t be spending money on you as he’s already doing so much for you already, to which he replies, “You deserve it, and more, mama”.

Professor O’Hara who, when you stay after class to help him clean (because you volunteered to, otherwise, Miguel would never let you lift even a finger because you’re a princess), instead of picking up stray mechanical pencils, he would imagine you picking up stranded toys in the living room. He’d imagine what it’s like living life with you, having a life with you, then immediately shoo those absurd thoughts away after realizing he’s falling for you after only months of knowing you.

Professor O’Hara who genuinely cares about your well-being, wants to see you succeed and get everything you want and deserve. Who wants the absolute best for you.

A/n: Just some hcs before I continue the story…. I won’t edge y’all for long so just bear w meeeeee <3333

Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @ce3stvu @m4dyy @kaidxra

Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!!!

#miguel o'hara #professor!miguel #dadbod!miguel #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #atsv #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara atsv #spider man 2099 #miguel fic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x y/n

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rizsu · 6 months

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professional guide on how to boyfriend jujutsu kaisen ( men ).

⤹ list ﹢ gojō satoru, sukuna ryōmen, chōsō.

﹙ syn ﹚ having near-to-zero experience with serious romantic relationships, it's time to teach them how to romance. the journey won't be easy, but the results will hopefully be fruitful.

extra. songs: betcha (bbh), seven (jk), very nice (svt).

week one : how to flirt as if you were shakespeare. note. refrain from using big words because they sound ‘cool’.

GOJO SATORU — "you're hating on my vocabulary?"

slowly, but very surely, you can feel your stress-meter rise to its peak. if someone were to animate your current expression, there will be three veins protruding out on your forehead to show your stress. it's almost as if it's second-nature for satoru to be annoying. he isn't doing it on purpose, unfortunately, it's just the way he is.

i should've ignored his call, a voice in your head speaks, i really should've. you were enjoying your own presence, simply lazing around during your off-day when three rings disrupted the peace. groaning, you reluctantly picked it up.

"hello—"

"come to enha's bakery, PLEASE," satoru's rushed voice spoke, immediately ending the call after his request-demand.

annoyance dawned and slowly transitioned into confusion. first, he needs to fix his habit of cutting you off. second, with the tone of his voice, maybe you should go.

big mistake.

not only was he chewing your ears off with talking, he also ate half of your pastry. you weren't able to get a full sentence in, he just kept going. dressed in suit and tie, hair styled and gelled up, satoru looked handsomely professional. according to what you've gathered from his rambling, he's been set up with one of the higher ups' daughter for business purposes. he needs to woo her or he's gonna lose a significant amount of pay. the problem? well, his flirting skills aren't all that. his confidence can help him, but it'll only help for a fraction of the date.

"what's the issue? you're handsome," you started, sliding your pastry back to you. "you should be able to woo her with your face alone."

"you are not wrong—"

"i'm never wrong," you cut him off.

"let me speak. anyway, i was informed that she isn't one for looks alone. i don't care about her, but she's the daughter of some high fucker," his voice reeked of defeat.

you weren't well-knowledged in satoru's field of work, but you knew he had it against the "higher ups." well, you had no choice but to know. satoru often thought of you as someone he can be free with — so, in conclusion, you were the victim of his word-vomit moments.

the two of you fell silent, thinking about solutions to save satoru. eyeing the pastry, you pondered your brain. there has to be a way to help satoru. perhaps some walkie-talkies? no, those are too loud. follow him into the restaurant and monitor his behaviour? no, that's too much work. crash his date and ask him why he's cheating on you? no, that'll probably end in your death.

satoru himself is deep in thought, already annoyed at the date that's going to become the bane of his existence in eight hours from now. should he bring you with him? maybe, but you'll deny his offer. should he ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend? no, he'd rather ask without the "pretend."

oh he's fucked.

i'm so fucked.

"wait," you leaned into the table, sporting an expression that says 'i have an idea'.

"yes?" satoru mirrors you, eyes speaking 'tell me'.

"what if i teach you how to flirt? we should have enough time to teach you how to boyfriend, right?" your idea was good. it turned the gears in both minds.

satoru opens his mouth but presses it into a thin line. there's an obstacle in the way of making this idea perfect.

"sounds good but.. the date's... tonight."

"you are fucked."

he nods at your response, feeling the salt rubbing in his wound. i guess i should just—

"but, if we go now we'll have enough time. it's 11AM, we can do it," you tapped your index finger twice on your phone's screen, showing satoru the time. if you move now, success is evident.

"let's go then," agreeing, he stands up, stuffing his car keys into his pocket and opening his wallet.

—

you've run out of pillows and whiteboard markers. the last two hours were spent either scribbling nonsense on a mini-whiteboard or throwing objects at satoru. the teaching isn't working. every lesson you've gone through ended in satoru's failure. is it on purpose? you hope it isn't.

"satoru, for the last time, that does not sound like a real word!" your hand slapped the table, physically showing your frustration.

groaning, satoru throws his head back, "you said use poetic words!"

"what part of scrumdiddlyumptious sounds poetic to you?!" you deadpanned at him.

he slouches further down the couch, grabbing his phone to search the word on google. it took him only one minute to find the word and its definition. raising up from slouching, he leans over the coffee table, stretching an arm out to show you the word.

"scrumdiddlyumptious — adjective · informal 1. (of food) extremely tasty; delicious. 2. (of a person) very attractive."

reluctant to admit defeat, you weaponized the word being informal against him, "it's not formal! you will not use it."

satoru's high of being right dies down immediately. his mouth twitches, eyes looking at you with disbelief.

"babe, you cannot be serious right now."

"babe, i am so serious right now," you mocked him, not thinking too deep into his nickname. there's no meaning behind it anyway. you, too, use babe as platonic name.

eventually, satoru tuned out your voice. he returned back to his previous slouching position, staring at you blankly as your words go in one ear and out the other.

it didn't take long for you to notice his dejected aura. does he hate it that much? you wondered, feeling a slight pity for him.

"don't worry, satoru. it's just one date."

"i will be worrying," satoru counters you, already sour at the date-to-come.

if he were to be honest, the date isn't the problem, nor is the flirting. he believes his flirting skills to be at a decent level. he also doesn't mind spending money on others. it's just that he doesn't want to entertain her. maybe, just maybe, if it were you, he'd be more excited.

you didn't say anything after him, only shooting him an annoying smile. seriously, you don't know what's worrying him. he's basically every girl's eye candy — not to mention, he looks so much like a boyfriend right now. that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if others can see what you're seeing, they'll understand. his white fitted tee accentuates his upper body's muscles, the black sweatpants do its job, his hair that's still styled, and the silver wristwatch on his hand. simple, yet sexy.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — "i'm too old for this shit."

sukuna, your sweet sukuna. your sukuna who's most likely weighing out which option is the better one to shut you up. he doesn't know why he agreed to listen to your rambles at midnight, but he's too far in to call it quitsies.

according to what you told him, you gained the idea of teaching him how to update his romance. it all came crashing to you when you were in the third-quarter of an episode of some random dating show. you blanked out most of the episode, not paying attention as the main objective of watching it was to not stare into nothing while eating.

the show itself didn't interest you, but the concept did. the participants were blindfolded, being told to use their judgement of character to choose their date. they'd have to rely on their personalities and voices to attract someone — a pretty neat idea. looks aren't everything. unfortunately, they might just be for sukuna if he doesn't work on his attitude.

often does sukuna act like he's a fifty-five-years-old office worker named penelope in the management department: old, easily annoyed, and always has something to complain about. you're probably the only human on earth who can handle sukuna for more than a day. of course, this is due to you being similar to him — if not then exactly like him. your attitudes fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

sukuna's hands are clasped together behind his head, one leg raised on the bed, and torso out in the open for everyone to view. he's actively listening to you, giving his judgement here and there.

you're sitting with your legs criss-crossed, a pillow in the middle of your thighs, and hands speaking their own language. the habit of using your hands expressively when talking will never leave you.

"...so, if you were to find a girl, you neeed to be kind! no one likes a man with a stick up his ass," you warned sukuna, moving your index finger side-to-side.

"you do," sukuna says, raising an eyebrow at you.

unfortunately, he left you speechless — but not for long! you soon regained your speaking skills after realizing you don't have a good comeback.

coughing two times, you started your lesson again, "anyyyway, always tell her she's beautiful, gorgeous, breathless, or whatever. everyone loves a little compliment about their appearance!"

almost as if it's an automatic setting, sukuna replies, "what if she's facially challenged?"

"OH—" your jaw dropped. "sukuna, you can't just say that!"

he re-positions himself, this time laying on his side with his arm supporting his head.

"if someone's visually impaired i'm telling them."

you sighed, feeling disappointed at his brutual honesty, "what do you even mean by visually impaired?"

"they're ugly," he shrugs.

his tone isn't serious, implying that he's joking but you know he isn't. sukuna's a man of his word; the truth is what leaves his mouth every time. you shouldn't worry — you really, really shouldn't, but what if that's what he thinks about you? are you facially challenged in his eyes? you've gone silent, allowing yourself to drown in the thoughts.

sukuna notices your silence, sighs, and jabs your side with his foot.

"if you're thinking that i believe you're ugly, then stop," he begins, continuing the foot-jabbing-at-your-side-movement when you don't respond. "you're beautiful, believe me. you know i don't lie."

that catches your attention. you feel a sudden heat creeping up the back of your neck. keeping your voice low, you questioned him, still unsure of whether he's being truthful or not, "are you lying?"

"i swear," his voice is firm, reaching his free hand out to your thigh. physical contact to him is very important!

you return to the silence, only this time you lock your eyes in sukuna's. it's up to you to believe whether he's lying or not, and honestly, you don't care. you know he never lies, and you rather enjoy your fantasy instead of the harsh reality ( if he's truly lying ).

CHOSO — "man, fuck all that."

throughout your entire life you never expected to meet someone like choso. he is, in your words, a bitch boy. acts like a bitch, very expressive with his facial expressions, sarcastic, a male, and the worst of all, a little thief.

you humbly thought baking with choso would've been a good idea for celebrating the end of your finals. oh you were so wrong. he's messy, ate half the chocolate chips, and has been stealing spoons of cookie batter. when you confronted him, he simply said, "we can always make more," and shrugged. the audacity!

there's only so much choso someone can handle before they explode.

"you dumb fuck, how can you get a wife with this behaviour?!" you scolded, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked batch of cookies with a whisk.

he immediately retreats his hand, looking at you with an expression that says 'have you gone insane?'

"don't look at me like that," you warned, raising an eyebrow at his very well-hidden annoyance at you.

choso rolls his eyes, this time reaching the uninjured hand for the sprinkles. he sneakily slides the packet to him, intensely watching you to make sure you don't happen to see him committing such a crime. mouthing a little "yes!" at his victory, he empties half the sprinkles in his hand and throws it into his mouth.

"an’ wha’ if i ‘on't care about a wife," his words are muffled due to his mouth being filled with the sprinkles. he tries his best to hide the crunch sound, lowering his head each time he needs to crunch on some.

your back's still turned to him, simply too busy with monitoring sugar-soon-to-be-caramel on the stove.

"you're gonna have to care soon. you don't wanna die alone!" you nagged, making a point to him.

his right eyebrow raises at your words, lips ready to move at your hypocrisy, "you yourself said you don't want a partner!"

"at this point," you stopped, turning around to face choso. "i'm gonna have to teach you how to be a romantic young man."

"what are you implying...?"

"it's time for dating lessons."

"no, thank you."

unfortunately, choso has no say in this household. he had to listen. you sat him down on the chair, making sure he focuses with all his attention and doesn't steal any of the desserts. believe choso when he said he tried to take you seriously. he really did, but your messy apron along with vigorously hand-mixing batter with a serious expression as you talked his ear off caught him off-guard.

"sometimes you even have to get on your knees, choso! i'm telling you."

"i'm not doing all of that," he disagrees.

"oh, trust me. when you're in love you will," you spoke, resting the hand-mixer down to draw an invisible heart in the air.

he doesn't give you a verbal response. instead, he squints his eyes at you. when one's gone, another is born. when one stress is gone, another is born ( your nagging ). he doesn't like it one bit, but at least it's coming from you. he'd rather have you down his ears — whether it's by using your vocals or channeling your inner mother and scolding him.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna fluff #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #sukuna x you #jjk x fem!reader

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hypergamiss · 9 months

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I am always picking a mentor's brain every chance I get. This particular woman has a loving and healthy marriage that is pretty much bulletproof. I asked her about marriage maintenance. Here are a few things I gathered from our conversation:

The grass is greener where you water it. Most couples wait until things get bad to reach out for support during their marriage. When things are going great, marriage counseling (or similar activity) should be incorporated so that the good things you do for each other continue to happen.

Feeling appreciated can turn someone's day around or make it even better. Sometimes, we forget to show appreciation because our partner should be doing those things. Showing appreciation for the little and big things anyway makes a difference.

In the grand scheme of things, it's usually the smallest gestures that make a partner feel the most loved. Maybe he always picks up your favorite pastry when you run out, and you take 5 minutes to snuggle him in the morning before you start your day. Do not underestimate these gestures. When they stop, it's an indicator that things are going in the wrong direction.

Most couples think that they don't have to intentionally set time aside and purposely schedule date nights. Before they know it, their busy schedules fill up, and it's been weeks or months since they have had fun in each other's presence without bringing up the stressful subjects of adulthood. There should be some sort of cadence of date nights that we are excited about and look forward to as a couple where you can be silly, relaxed, or simply make fun memories. This usually brings out the person they fell in love with the most and helps maintain the chemistry.

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upon-a-starry-night · 2 months

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Number neighbors Pt.28

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was regularly paranoid, but recently you've been more than a little on edge. You’d given the man at the market the benefit of the doubt, chalking his appearance up to going to the marketplace when the weather was the most reasonable- like you’d been doing, but that doesn’t explain the Suvs.

You don’t know how long they’ve been following you for, you’d been so stuck in your own world that you’d barely been paying attention to your surroundings but after Saturday you’ve been more cautious of your surroundings and that’s when you noticed the black Suv.

You don’t know if it’s the same one every time, they’ve always kept a far enough distance and you haven't been able to catch a license plate but they appear every so often when you go out. The windows are tinted far too dark to be legal so you can’t see inside but you occasionally find them parked outside of buildings you frequent and it’s starting to worry you.

You don’t want to worry your friends or your mom who would buy a ticket out there first thing though, so you keep to yourself and try to keep a distance from the cars and the marketplace (it’s a devastating loss to not have Gladys’ pastries on hand)

On top of that, everyone has been on edge because of the disappearance of most of the Avengers. As far as you know, Stark, Clint, Banner, and that Spider kid are the only ones still in New York which has civilians asking questions about where the others are and why they left.

The anxiety from the lack of heroes has everyone grilling the government for answers, especially considering the fact that the crime rate has gone up just from petty criminals getting too cocky. Due to the constant heat The government has been under, they stated that they’ll issue a public service announcement in a week to explain the situation and you can practically feel the country buzzing with anticipation.

The situation makes you think of Nat and you wonder if her “not FBI job” has something to do with this and is the reason why she’s disappeared. You hope she knows wherever she is that you would’ve understood if she’d just explained the situation to you- but maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was under some kind of NDA that could put her in danger.

Despite avoiding the marketplace you still get the feeling that you’re being watched and it makes you uneasy. You feel like you’re hallucinating with how often you see shadows moving somewhere nearby. You’re never able to catch a glimpse of anyone who might resemble the market man but the fear is enough to have you staying a few nights at your friend's house.

The Suv’s don’t appear for a while after the move and it allows you a small moment of reprieve. You push the lingering feeling of constant observance to the back of your mind despite your brain telling you to be on guard.

The stress of the situation is so tremendous you don’t even realize you’ve been forgetting to leave voicemails for Nat until your mom calls asking why you haven’t called her in a while. You don’t bring up the stalkers to avoid giving her a heart attack but you do tell her about the amount of stress you’ve been under and the toll it’s been taking on you.

It feels so good to talk about it that you don’t even realize you’re crying until your mother's concerned voice is comforting you through the speaker. God, it was like the universe couldn’t give you a break lately. You hope whatever they’re putting you through all of this for is worth it.

“Come home for a while, Y/n. it sounds like you need a break, I’ll take care of you.” The dismissal of her offer is on the tip of your tongue but the more you mull it over the more you think it might be a good idea. With the city on edge, the growing crime rate, and your new potential stalkers, getting away from the city is probably the best thing you could do right now.

Much to your mother's surprise, you agree and her excitement at having you come home has you smiling on your end of the receiver. The two of you spend the next hour looking for an affordable last minute and you find a plane that leaves in two days that the two of you agree on. It’s probably not nearly enough appropriate notice for time off but your boss agrees anyway and within the hour you’ve got plans to spend a week at your mother's out of town.

It’s the first vacation you’ve taken in a while and even if it was just going home you find yourself more excited than you’d been in at least a month. You hadn’t been this excited since-

Nat. You hadn’t been this excited since you were supposed to meet Nat.

It probably didn’t matter to her that you were going out of town, it wasn’t like she was getting your voicemails anyway but- what if she showed up while you were gone? You shake your head, the possibility of that was slim to none and if she did come back while you were gone she’d just have to wait like she’d made you wait.

Still, she deserved to know about the kid on the skateboard you watched run into a pole earlier today, at least. You listen for the tale-tell sound of the beep after the long too-familiar ringing and you find yourself subconsciously smiling as you tell her random snippets from your week.

The breakfast your friend treated you to, the new show you started, the fair that got canceled due to raccoons breaking in to eat all the cotton candy. You avoid talking about the stalkers like you’d done with everyone else but you frown when the news channel starts covering another attempted bank robbery.

Despite your own safety being in jeopardy you can’t help but worry for her wherever she may be, causing you to voice the thought, the humor in your tone replaced with a solemn resolve

“wherever you are… I hope you’re safe.” You shake your head, attempting to clear your mind from the restless thoughts in your mind “Anyway, sorry I know that was a lot- all that to say I miss you and I love you. Bye!”

You don’t even realize what you’ve said until 10 seconds later and you frantically press whichever number was supposed to delete the message.

Shit.

It was such a force of habit to end your phone calls with an I love you. You can’t believe you almost confessed to Nat over the phone. Moreover, you’re freaked out by how much the words didn’t feel like a lie. If you were honest you’d been avoiding putting a label on your emotions because you were scared of how serious they were getting but apparently your brain had already decided for you.

Love.

You loved Nat.

You Love Nat.

Fuck.

Your mind reels with the newfound discovery and you’re grateful you deleted the message before it would be stuck in her voicemail for her to one day hear. Your head's a mess as you set your phone down on the counter and go to pack up your stuff, you had a trip to get ready for and a relationship to overanalyze to try and pinpoint when you and Nat had gone from total strangers to you being in love with her.

It all made sense now, the heartache, the worrying, the underlying tension between the two of you

It was just your luck that you’d discover you love her when you can’t even tell her. You’re so in your head with your emotions and figuring out what to pack that you don’t even register the sound of your phone’s female electronic voice as it declares

“Voicemail sent”

Pt.29

A/n: Classic mistake, Y/n, I’m sure everyone’s done that! Don’t worry it’s not like she can hear your voicemails or anything…or uhhh ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime

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levi-ish · 2 years

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You’d been fucking Eren for a few months now. Started at a party where you both were bored and a little drunk, so it felt like a great idea for him to fuck your brains out in that tiny bathroom.

It was perfect, to be honest. You two were good friends before, and being able to satisfy your desires wherever and whenever was a god’s given. It would take a fool not to realize how hot the man was, from the tanned skin to the dazzling green eyes that reminded you of emeralds — plus the fuckboy aura he had all over him. He was already attracted to you before, too, so it took one night, a few bottles of cheap beer and you bending over a sink.

Waking up from a hot dream? A quick text and he would be there, folding you in half and ramming your body into your mattress. Stress taking over your mind after exams? He would make sure all your worries went away by sucking the soul out of you from between your legs. Feeling too alone in the morning? He would come bearing pastries from the bakery downstairs and then treat himself to some nice dessert.

No feelings involved. At this point, he had already explored your whole body and knew all your weaknesses, so did you. The match was like a puzzle that fit just right. He could cum on your tongue, you could ride his face, he could thrust into you like you were his sex doll, you could use him however you’d like, and when you were done, you were both satisfied and then left to follow your lives separately. It was perfect.

Until one evening, right after you had just closed the door after letting him into your old apartment and heard a small ‘hey buddy’ from behind, turning around to find that big caveman crouched down, playing with your cat.

Your kitten turned around on the carpet, greeting him with a purr as Eren’s hands caressed under his ears. And for a second, your heart skipped a beat.

Didn’t take too long before he was towering over you and grabbing your hips to throw you over his shoulder like his prey and take you to your room. He then fucked you roughly.

Your legs were still wobbling as you saw him out, not before watching your cat clinging to his jeans, as if to beg for him to stay.

That wasn’t normal. You’d gotten your cat for a few years now, and he wasn’t a very welcoming pet. He would hide when people came over, avoid everyone as the little antisocial that he was. He did the same with Eren at first, until you noticed how he would keep close distance when you two were making out on the couch, our how he would sit on the kitchen counter and stare at the big man while you grabbed him beer.

But for him to actually play with Eren? No, not usual. At all.

It got worse from that, he would jump on the brunette’s lap as you were making out, scratch the door as his head was between your legs, make a fuss when Eren was about to leave. And the weird way that your heart started to fail its beats as you watched all that… that wasn’t supposed to happen.

One night, after you were done with your… activities, you were taking a small nap, and your cat entered your room and laid right by Eren’s side and fell asleep under his arm. You watched that with widened eyes, how both of them slept soundly, and how cozy that felt. For a second, you thought to yourself how you could grow used to seeing that, and the feeling scared you.

What now? Were you growing feelings for Eren because of your stupid cat?

But the way both of their breaths synchronized as they laid under the golden hour, you had to tighten your lips in order not to squeal.

Laying back into your pillow, you placed a hand over the man’s chest and quickly felt his arm sneak from under you to envelop your waist and keep you close. A smile formed in your lips as you looked up to find that he held the same expression as you did. With that, you listened to his heart rushing and the purrs by your side, falling asleep once again.

based on this post

#eren x reader #eren smut #eren jeager #eren headcanons

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

Text

Cookies | Wanda Maximoff

A Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe Story

Summary: Wanda’s in her happy place: the kitchen

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Sexual innuendo

Word Count: 1.3K

Masterlist

Wanda’s happy place was the kitchen. Either that or the garden. Domesticity brought a grounded sense of normalcy to her otherwise chaotic life: stripping wasn’t normal, pruning shrubs and breaking down a whole chicken were. At her most stressed, you’d come downstairs in the morning to the kitchen counters overflowing with a variety of muffins, cookies, and other pastries as she poured her stress into sugar.

Most days you left her alone when she got into one of her cooking moods. You learned the hard way when you were on the receiving end of a thrown wooden spoon. That was when you decided it would be best to hide out literally anywhere else in the house, but today you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe it was the sweet smell of her famous double chocolate chunk cookies, or perhaps it was the oldies hits playlist echoing throughout the downstairs. Either way, all you wanted to do was stand and watch.

Wanda was in her own world. She didn’t notice as you slunk your way to the kitchen, crossing your arms as you leaned on the wall, lovingly gazing at her all the while. The sweet smell of her famous double chocolate chunk wafted through the air as the latest batch baked to perfection in the oven. The others sat atop cooling racks, their tantalizing aroma infiltrating your brain. Dressed in her half apron, the strings tied in a neat bow and accentuating her still heavenly figure, Wanda danced around the kitchen. Her baking playlist was filled with an eclectic mixture of artists and genres spanning from the golden oldies to traditional Sokovian folk music. She was on a 70s kick today and Al Green’s voice echoed off the walls of Wanda’s safe haven.

She was ridiculously adorable. Wanda bopped to the beat, swinging her hips as she took one tray out of her oven and replaced it with another. She twirled, singing slightly-off key as she eyed the mixing bowl on the counter. Leave it to Wanda to lick the remaining batter off the spoon even after yelling at the boys to not do so. It was only the sound of your poorly stifled giggle that snapped her back into reality: she froze like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the spoon remained firmly in her mouth.

“What?” she mumbled innocently, swirling her tongue around the last morsels of chocolatey deliciousness.

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “Just thought licking the batter from the bowl wasn’t allowed in your good Jewish household.”

“This is a spoon, darling, not a bowl.” Wanda rolled her eyes, her lips curving upward in a subtle grin as she turned away from you. Your eyes were glued to the way her jeans fit her perfectly. The looseness of the vintage bell bottoms had no impact on the tight hug the rinsed denim had over her hips. The cookies were definitely not the only snack in the kitchen. “What are you staring at?”

“Huh?” Her voice snapped you out of your hypnotized state.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Umm…the stitching on your pockets matches the strings on your apron?” She glanced behind her shoulder, spinning awkwardly to try and look at her back pockets.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out.”

“Well I’m checking you out so…” you smirked.

“How about you check these out instead?” You opened your mouth to speak right as Wanda shoved a warm cookie right inside.

Like always, Wanda’s culinary skills were off the charts. It was warm, gooey, and ever so chocolatey the way you liked. A sinful groan escaped your lips as the morsel literally melted in your mouth.

“Well-?” She cocked her head, hand on her hip as she twirled the spoon around her free hand.

“Perfection. Like usual. But I don’t think these cookies are the best snack in the kitchen right now.” Wanda’s face blushed as red as her shirt at your insinuation. Not one who took praise easily, she kicked one foot in front of the other as she stared at the ground, completely embarrassed. It was her most endearing quality.

“So I’m a snack then?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know if I’d really consider you a snack though, Wanda.”

“Oh-?” Her eyes widened in confusion as you slunk towards her.

“I think that you’re definitely more of a dessert. The end of the meal, the best part of the night. A succulent, luscious, tantalizing dessert.” There wasn’t a second for Wanda to respond to your seductive insinuations. As she opened her mouth, you grabbed her face, pulling her as close as you could and pressing your lips firmly against hers. She tasted of cherry (her choice of chapstick) and chocolate, the intoxicating combination dizzying the both of you. Soft arms wrapped around your neck. The wooden spoon rubbed up against the back of your head and sprinkled your hair with chocolate. You didn’t care. As you deepened the kiss, Wanda carefully walked the two of you back into the island counter. She giggled as a soft bump stopped the two of you and you couldn’t help but smile into her soft lips. Her hands trailed down your neck, the wooden dowel drawing a line down your spine while her hands eventually gripped your waist.

“I smell cookies!”

“I’ll beat you to-EWW!”

Nothing broke the two of you apart faster than Billy and Tommy stopping dead in their tracks in front of you. Wanda pushed you off of her so hard you nearly toppled over while the spoon fell forgotten to the ground.

“Gross!” Billy mumbled as he grabbed two cookies off the cooling rack, not bothering to make eye contact with either you or his mother.

“Yeah, get a room, mom,” Tommy chided as he shoveled a stack of cookies into his hands.

“Excuse me, young man, but that’s way too many cookies,” Wanda scolded as she readjusted her rumpled shirt.

“If I eat enough cookies I’ll forget what I saw. Do you want me to be scarred for life?” Somehow you managed to cover your laugh with a cough as you knelt down to pick up the spoon. Wanda was speechless at Tommy’s remark. Her face, once red with desire, was now red with embarrassment. Was it a little impetuous? Yes. Was it funny? Absolutely, but you couldn’t let Wanda know that.

“Just get out of here before I make you put those cookies back, mister!” she called as he raced down the hall.

The two of you stood in the uncomfortable awkwardness of just being caught by Wanda’s sons. While it wasn’t the most compromising position the two of you had been caught in, you wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. It was only the dinging of the timer that brought you out of such an awkward pause.

“So…” you mumbled after clearing your throat.

“So…” Wanda answered as she flipped cookies off the hot pan and on to the cooling rack.

“That was-”

“Awkward.”

“Very.”

“It’s our fault. We both knew they’re home.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact I’m incredibly horny,” you shrugged, plopping another cookie into your mouth.

“Y/N!” Wanda snapped, the faintest hint of a smirk on her face.

“What? I haven’t seen you in a week, your ass looks fantastic in those jeans, and-goddamn, these cookies are incredible.”

“What do my cookies have to do with you being horny?”

“Nothing. They’re just really good.”

Wanda sighed, looking at the empty mixing bowl in front of her. “This is what I get for dating a twenty-five year old,” she mumbled as she shook her head.

“We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to.” Wanda’s head snapped up suddenly, a devilish gleam in her eye.

“Who says I don’t want to?”

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #self reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

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muzansfangs · 1 year

Text

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x f!reader; Akaza, Kyojuro, Nakime and Giyuu.

Warnings: language, stalking, yandere tendencies, dirty jokes and mention to sex, mention to drugs, sugar daddy dynamics, attempted murder, sapphic love (temporary one-sided), mention to violence, psychological trauma, mention to murder, death, loss of parents.

Plot: Haunted by nightmares regarding your parents’s death, you wake up early in the morning to attend some classes at University. Your feelings for Muzan are controversial and you find yourself yearning for him after a romantic and unexpected reunion. Back at University, you catch up with some of your friends and, while Muzan claimes to have given you so personal space, you soon find out he could not keep his promise. While the Slayers are attending a meeting, the Moons are watching you and your date night with Muzan will definitely be memorable.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

FRIENDS.

"Geez, what's happened to you? Are you sick?" Akaza inquired, glancing at you briefly while filling his mug with some coffee.

Maybe you should have put your make-up on, before showing up in the kitchen. Apparently, the shower you had taken had not helped you look better. However, you did not take it personally. You expected to look devasted. The moment you had stepped into the bathroom and switched the lights on, you had grimaced at your reflection in the mirror. You knew it would have happened: it was the same old story, after all.

"I have barely slept, but I am fine. – you said, grabbing your lavender blue mug from the counter – Thanks for asking" you added shortly, joining him on the kitchen island and choosing a croissant from the silvery tray in front of you. You wondered who always went to buy the delicious pastries so early in the morning.

Maybe it was Kokushibo. He was literally a night owl. You had heard him leaving in the middle of the night since you had moved there. Then again, it had been only three days since you had settled down in that house, it could have been a mere coincidence.

Akaza hummed, taking a small sip from his yellowish mug "Muzan's kept you awake all night long, huh?" he teased you, his eyes lazily glancing outside the window, watching the sky turn purple and how some reddish stripes enlightened the still sleeping city below.

You blushed, opting for the basic pastry filled with cherry jam "I don't know what you're talking about, Akaza" you whispered, grasping the coffee pot to pour yourself the right amount of caffeine you needed to make your brain properly function.

You wondered how long it would have taken for you to finally relax and get comfortable with the radical change in your life. Stressful events made the nightmares come back and, while you were used to it, you thought you had somehow found your balance. There was no way in Hell your heart would have forgotten about that tragic night ten years ago, but during the past years you had held on your mental stability to accept that fact that there was nothing you could have done to save your parents.

They had died before your eyes. You tried to bury their screams of agony in the back of your mind and you succeded in it. Despite that, when the nightmares came back, it was hard to pretend you had come to terms with your trauma. The small scar on your right knee was a constant reminder of what had happened.

A soft nudge on your ribs made you flick your gaze up to your interlocutor and, judging by the concerned look on his face, you realized you had dazed off for way too long.

Wonderful, now he probably thought you were crazy.

"Did Douma give you one of his magical pills?" Akaza questioned you, cocking his head to the side, as he attentively inspected your face in search for a proof that you were high.

You rolled your eyes at him and chugged down your coffee, before settling the now empty mug back on the counter "No, he didn't. But, if the pills can chase nightmares away, I'll make sure to ask him to give me some of them" you bluntly replied, eyes downcast not meet his bright, golden ones.

You did not really mean what you had said. You were upset and sarcasm was your defensive coping mechanism. You did not want to startle Akaza and, to be honest, you did not think anything could really leave him bitter, considering who he worked for and what Muzan had probably asked him to do for him.

Now, however, things were kind of getting awkaward between you two and you did not waste any more precious time in making your getaway from the crime scene to ease the tension off.

"I have some classes to attend. See you later" you mumbled, grabbing your croissant and quickly jumping on your feet with a distraught expression plastered on your face. Akaza, obviously, did not fail to notice it and, although you had already turned your back at him to leave the room, he called you out and forced you to halt.

"Y/N, wait a second. – the bodyguard said, hastily wiping his mouth with a napkin and hopping down from his stool too – Do you want to talk about it? I am not a psychologist, but someone told me I am a good listener" he softly stated, an ounce of nostalgia permeating his words. He took you off guard.

While you thought Muzan's flunkies probably tolerated your presence around not to lose their job, there was something in Akaza's words that did not quite match with the idea you had of him and his formal, detached duty of giving assistance to his boss's girlfriend. There was empathy in his voice, there was genuine interest. Despite that, you had never really talked much about your nightmares. There were only a few selected people who knew something about them and, back then, you had been kind of forced to tell them about your problem. The awful amount of times you had waken your friends up with your screams, during your sleepovers, had caused them to get worried and you had no other choice but let them in.

You turned towards Akaza, a tired smile curling your lips "I don't doubt it, but I am the I-fly-solo type of person. I can deal with it. – you said, flicking your gaze up on the black and white clock hung on the wall – I really got to go now. See you later, Akaza!" you added shortly, whipping your head back to corridor and jogging towards your bedroom.

On your way to your sumptuous room, you chewed on the delicious pastry, slowing down your pace as you passed by Muzan's bedroom.

Muzan... Fuck.

A few thoughts popped in your mind as the coffee started taking over you. First and foremost, your legs hurt. Badly. Secondly, you were subconsciously infatuated by him. Thirdly, he was a criminal. Your soon-to-be-husband was a bloody criminal about to rule your Country.

Although he had scared you to death, you still could not quite see past his façade. You could have never forgotten his murderous eyes, when he ran to the parking lot. You could not forget his words, when he had made you understand not to cross lines when he was around. Did he really care about you? Were just a pretty face and a nice body he claimed not to neglect his duties as your boyfriend?

It was overwhelming and the idea of facing him after what had happened yesterday made you wish to evoke the famous black hole to dive in and never come back from.

Pinching the bridge of your nose in distress, you took the last bite of your croissant and proceeded in your march to your bedroom. A certain someone, however, had other plans. You squealed out in surprise, when you felt the door creaking open and a hand wrapping around your wrist. Before you could even protest, Muzan had tugged you in.

He spun you around, your back flattened against the now closed door as he planted his hands on each side of your head, basically caging you between his body and the mahogany surface behind you.

Every single time your eyes met you felt like drowning into a sea of blood, but it was addictive. Therefore, you flicked your gaze up, your droopy eyes meeting his shimmering red ones. You had not realised you were that close. You could count the different shades of red in his irises and you could spot the droplets of water in his dark eyelashes, a clear sign he had just taken his shower.

A shower. Well, shit.

You had no time to elaborate that he was half-naked, his lips locked with yours in a tender kiss almost immediately and he stole your breath from your lungs with expertise. It did not last long, though. It was fleeting, yet strangely gentle. Nothing like the fervent kisses he had blessed you with until now. Yet, you loved it, and when your mouths parted you found yourself yearning for more.

Asking for it, or pulling him down for another one was out of discussion, though.

He grinned down at you, his fingers running through his locks as he scrutinized your face in amusement. Was it really that easy getting you flustered?

"What was that?" you breathed out, fidgeting with your necklace again.

"Hello to you too, love. – he mused, smirking – I thought you were still upset about what had happened yesterday. Giving you a good morning kiss sounded like a good way to make it up to you" he replied casually, taking a step back to let you have some personal space back.

You blushed, chewing on your lower lip not to embarrass yourself further in front of him. Keeping up with his mood swings was exhausting. In moments like these, when sounded spontaneous and romantic, you felt on cloud nine. You wondered if he really meant what he had said, but you had to protect your haert from breaking down.

Guys like him broke hearts easily and you were not going to let him have the privilege to destroy yours.

"Uhm, well... Thank you – you stammered, rubbing the back of your neck in distress – How are you?" you asked him, watching him ambling towards a drawer and pulling out a pair of black boxers from it.

It was right when he he turned back towards you that you finally got a good view of his pectorals and abs. He resembled a god. His chiseled muscles, his V line and even that... What was that? A scar? How did you fail to see it yesterday? It seemed deep, a neat cut scarring his perfect body from the top of his right shoulder and stopping almost in the middle of his chest.

How did he got it? What had happened to him? You really wanted to ask him about it, but you did not want to break the spell he had casted on you two. Moments like that felt real, you enjoyed them.

"Are you staying for the show? – he abruptly snapped you out of your stream of consciousness – I don't mind, really. But, if I'm not mistaken, you have some classes to attend today. Nakime is probably already waiting for you in the car" he stated, a smug smile crossing his lips.

Nakime? Was she the one he had assigned you for the lift at the Campus? Gosh, after what had happened between you two, you would have rather died than been locked in a car with her.

You rolled your eyes at him "Cocky much?" you chimed.

"Very cocky".

You waved your hand at him, twirling around to reach the door and exit his bedroom "See you tonight, Muzzie" you teased him, only to heard him snort at the new nickname you had come up with for him.

"You too, Muzzie's cumbag" he retorted, right when you had got a hold of the doorknob. You shivered, breath hitching in your throat in shock.

Muzzie's what?

"You take that back" you bluntly said, turning around and folding your arms against your chest.

Muzan winked at you "I don't think I will. – he stated, shrugging – After all, it's true. How many times have I spilled my cum into your cunt? Three, right? How long will it take for me to get you pregnant?" he taunted you, watching the way your irritation grew with every word coming from his mouth.

No. No, you were not going to make a scene about it. You were going to play his own game and beat him on it. Giyuu, your best friend, had always praised your ability to corner people with your quick replies.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Muzzie. In order to get me pregnant, you'd need a dick. – you crooned, biting on your lower lip softly – And, if you keep on pissing me off, I'm going to chop it off and throw it at the alligators in Florida. Wouldn't it be crazy? You'd have to ask Kokushibo, or Douma for an heir then. I think the latter wouldn't mind getting me pregnant, you know? See you tonight!" you piped out, winking at an amazed, abashed Muzan staring at you in pure admiration.

When you disappeared behind the door, he grinned, dropping his towel down to the floor to get dressed "I think she's the right one, after all" he murmured at himself.

He wondered if you two were so different as he thought you were.

♚

You were glad Muzan had allowed you to attend your classes without his dogs watching every step you took. Nakime had driven you to the Campus and you had agreed in meeting her later in the morning, after lunch. You expected the car drive to be awkward, but the woman beside you was almost as silent as Kokushibo and you spent your time texting your friends for your usual lunch break together.

Walking out of your last class for the morning, you made your way to the atrium and, when your eyes locked with a piar of ocean blue orbs, you sprinted towards your saturnine friend and involved him into a tight hug. It was good seeing a familiar face. It was good being the only person in the world Giyuu allowed to be hugged by. You were proud of that privilege and today you were enjoying it too much.

"Hi" you mumbled, burying your face onto the crook of his neck.

Giyuu hummed and ran his fingers through your hair gently, allowing you to get your daily dose of cuddles from the non-affective man.

"Hi, snowflake" he said, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

Snowflake. Although some of your close friends knew about the small tatoo on your left wrist, only Giyuu knew about the true meaning behind it. Your parents had given you this nickname because the day you took your first footsteps without their help it was snowing outside.

You giggled, both for the nickname and the loving gesture "Aww, someone is getting a squishy-heart here. – you whispered, craning your neck to take a look at his face – I've missed you" you said, taking a step back from him.

Giyuu sighed and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans "I am sorry. I should have called you, but I was out of town. Family problems, you could say" he ranted, staring at his feet.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. – you reassured him, your grip on your briefcase tightening – I do not want to sound rude, but I am pretty hungry. Let's go to grab something to eat and you can fill me up with the news in front of some good ramen" you suggested, a small smile gracing your glossy lips.

Giyuu was about to reply something, when a boisterous voice startled both of you and some other people passing by. You knew exactly who it was without even turning around to see him. He knew how to make you acknowledge his presence, without you noticing him.

"Y/N, it's good to see you!" Kyojuro beamed from behind you, orange and red hues glimmering under the sunlight seeping from the glass rooftop of the building.

You turned around, a hand still settled over your chest as you recovered from the fright he had given you "Kyojuro... It's good to see you too! We were about to go out for lunch, do you perhaps want to join us? It's been a while since we have spent some quality time together" you asked him, only to receive an unexpected reply from your gluttonous friend.

"Thank you for your invitation! But nor me, neither Giyuu can join you! We've got to go in five minutes!" he exclaimed, folding his arms against his toned chest.

You pouted, your eyes darting on your best friend you simply nodded his head apologetically. Were they serious? What was more important than chatching up with a friend?

"Guys, come on, where are you going? Can I come with you then?" you blurted out, frowning in contempt.

"No!" they fretted as one, eyes widened and a nervous smile crossing their faces. How were they supposed to tell you about the secret meeting of the Slayers? It was out of discussion. What were the supposed to say, when their boss was going to plot another plan to kill your future husband?

Ah, yes! Sorry, Y/N, did we mention that you are about to get widowed?

They knew about you, about Muzan. What they did not know was that you had a deal with him.

You narrowed your eyes at them and jabbed your finger at the two men staring at you awkwardly "Assassins are a better company than you two. Bye, bottom-dwellers" you piped out, before marching to the opposite direction they were about to take.

They blinked at you, trying their best not to flinch at your unintentional allusion, watching you take your phone out of the pocket of your ripped jeans and calling someone. Kyojuro stared at you intently, his eyes boring holes on your back for a few seconds, before he finally spoke out.

"She's hot when she's mad!" he declared without any hesitation.

Giyuu choked, his eyes trailed on his friend in surprise and a slight sting of irritation. Did Kyojuro like you? He should have not felt jealousy welling up in his chest. You were not Giyuu's girlfriend, you had always just been friends with him. Now, however, he was asking himself if he had made a mistake in burying his love for you.

"Do you like Y/N?" he inquired, his fists clenching and unclenching down his sides as he awaited for his comrade to reply something.

"I think I do!" Kyojuro frankly admitted, patting on Giyuu's shoulder and encouraging him to take their leave. A hole started to form into the Wave's chest, his eyes dusted with a dredful feeling of defeat. However, as they exited the University, Giyuu tensed. He felt someone watching them, he felt more than a set of eyes focusing on them, studying each and every move they made.

And you felt the same. You felt someone watching you as you ate your meal alone on a bench, as you went to the toilet, to the library to do some researches and, when you grabbed a book from a shelf, you realized that effectively you had been watched this whole time.

Maybe Muzan had not kept his promise. How could he let his innocent girl strolling down the Campus without his bodyguard following her, if she was hanging out with the Slayers?

You sucked in a breath, the book you had grabbed slipping from your fingers and colliding with the floor with a dull thud, as your wary eyes locked with a lilac one through the empty spot on the shelf.

It was the first time you got to see her eyes and you were surprised to note that she probably could not see from her right eye: a black eye patch covered it, giving her a even deadlier look than what you had been imagining during your convivence at the Kibutsuji manor. What was she doing there?

"Nakime! What the Hell are you doing here?" you quipped, kneeling down to pick up the heavy tome laying at your feet. Did she just decide to stalk you on her own accord, or was it just another order from Muzan? You really needed to have a chit-chat with him later.

The brunette circled the bookshelf, until she was standing right in front of you "Protecting you, miss L/N. Isn't it obvious?" she stated casually, cocking her head to the side at your apparent frivolous question.

You sighed and were about to retort something, when you heard the keeper clearing her throat to draw your attention. Whipping your head towards her, you saw the woman gesturing for you to lower your voices and you bowed your head at her apologetically.

Nakime, on the other hand, had an irk mark popping on her forehead and, in your peripheral, you saw her reaching for something underneath her thigh. Flashes of the first time you met played before your eyes, as you remembered what she always brought with her. You gawked in shock, suddenly shoving her against the bookshelf, your hand blocking her wrist down in the desperate attempt to save the old woman for being slashed by the feral brunette.

"Nakime, Jesus, what are you doing?! She's not the enemy!" you hissed, eyes round as she easily overpowered you and flipped your position over.

You gasped as your back hit the shelves behind you and she held your hands up above your head "Y/N-sama, this woman disrespected you. You do not need to apologize to anyone. Muzan-sama said no one should ever make you bend the knee" she asserted, making your lips part in disbelief.

Why was he so overprotective of you? You were not even a real couple. Additionally, it was in your nature being polite.

"Well, I am the soon to be First Lady and, if I'm not mistaken, my opinion matters! I don't want you to hurt anyone, alright?" you fired back, earning an apologetic look by her. She blushed, her grip on your wrists loosened, as she hesitantly flicked her gaze down at your bodies. You had not even realized your proximity, until you followed her gaze and your breath hitched in your throat.

"Uhm... N-Nakime?" you whispered, earning a bashful glance from her. Why did you always end up in awakward situations with her?

"Yes, miss L/N?".

"Could you please let me go?" you quietly asked her.

The brunette took a step back, eyes downcast as she nodded her head at you "I'm sorry! I apologize. – she muttered, clenching her fists down her sides – Can I ask you something personal, miss?" she added then, scanning the area around you as if to make sure you were safe from prying eyes.

You massaged your wrists, a small smile tugging the angles of your lips upwards slightly "Of course, Nakime. – you chimed, leaning against the bookshelf to collect yourself – And, please, just call me Y/N. There's so need to call me by my surname and apologize profusely" you stated, watching her straightening her back and blushing even more at your words.

"This is going to be hard for me, but I'll do my best. – she stammered, flicking her gaze up to meet your bright eyes – Are you, by any chance, bisexual? Because I would very much like to entertain you, when Muzan-sama cannot do it" she said, making you clamp your mouth shut in embarrassment and palming your forehead in discomfort.

Nakime was going to be the death of you. Did her blushes mean that she fancied you?

You were about to answer her question, when your phone buzzed once, twice, thrice and you were forced to check your phone. As you had imagined, the texts were all from your demanding lover.

MUZAN: I've just made a bank transfer on your bank account. I hope 10.000$ are enough.

MUZAN: I have asked Akaza to leave a box on your bed. I want you to wear what's inside for tonight.

MUZAN: Also, I hope you are down for something different. Perhaps painful, even I apologize ahead of time... But I feel experimental today.

Muzan Kibutsuji was impossible to deal with. You huffed and slumped down to the floor, resting your forehead on top of your knees "Nakime, if you wish to shower me in affection, it would be a good time to hug me right now" you bewailed, batting your eyes close to prepare yourself for what was yet to come.

And as you were about to live an extrasensorial experience with Mr. Kibutsuji, a group of people were polishing their swords as they waited for their Master to grace them with his presence.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there!

Once again, I would love to express my gratitude to my faithful audience for the support you are showing me both on here and Wattpad. You are amazing! If you have noticed, I’m probably going to make Y/N bisexual. I’m still debating, though!Also, I thought I was going to post my Kyojuro one-shot earlier, but I didn’t like it lmao. Have a little patience!

I hope you have enjoyed the chapter and I take the chance to announce that I have decided to open requests for Headcanons… So, submit them!

X O X O

Tag list: @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art @cherrymanhuas @kazuhasslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf

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danikamariewrites · 3 months

Text

Taking Care of Her

Nesta x reader

A/n: just a small fic about taking care of mommy nesta inspired by @i-am-a-lost-girl16’s headcanons she sent me a while ago

Warnings: slight mdlg and fluff

Nesta had been wound far too tight since she returned from the Day Court. You knew the Valkyries were working with Helion’s guard on something for the court borders.

Honestly you couldn’t be bothered with the details. Your brain would not comprehend it.

Plus, Nesta liked when you knew less. “Your pretty little brain shouldn’t worry unless I tell you too, baby.” She would say, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

You had let her sleep in this morning. For once giving Nes princess treatment instead of you. She needed a break from everything. You wanted Nesta to not have anything on her mind.

Leaving a note next to the pastry breakfast and coffee you laid out for her you headed out into Velaris. Your goal for the day: pamper Nesta.

You stopped at all of her favorite shops. Buying a new stack of romance books, the biggest box of chocolates the shop had to offer, and stuff for a spa night. Your last stop was Feyre’s studio. You had asked the High Lady for an arts and craft activity the two of you could do and she suggested friendship bracelets. Something she loves to do with Gwyn and Emerie. The two had made you the kit before going up to Emerie’s for the weekend. After thanking Feyre you left making one last stop for lunch on the way home.

Entering the house you can feel how tense Nesta is. “Nes,” you call out sweetly. You’re met with silence as you call out again for your girlfriend. Creeping into the kitchen you hear the familiar beats of Nesta’s fists against the punching bag in the backyard.

Dropping all the bags on the table you rush outside to check on her. Approaching slowly, but loudly as to not startle her, you clear your throat. Keeping your arms folded tights against your midsection.

Nesta whipped around. Her hair sticking to her sweaty face, chest heaving as she calmed down from her workout. Realizing it’s you standing in front of her Nesta dropped her fists, her expression becoming friendlier. You knew she didn’t want you to worry about her but that’s your job.

“Hey baby,” she cooed through deep breaths. “Where did you go this morning? I wanted to have breakfast with you.” You give Nesta a small smile as you take one of her wrapped hands in yours.

“I know you’ve been stressed and I want us to relax today.” Before Nesta could say no you cut her off, “I’m not suggesting you relax Nes, I’m telling you. I am taking care of you today. Ok mommy,” you coo at her, giving her those doe eyes you know she can’t resist. You start undoing the wrappings and kiss Nesta’s knuckles before doing the same to her other hand.

Pulling Nesta inside you unbox lunch and stand at the island eating your sandwiches together, talking about mindless gossip. You pulled her upstairs for a bath, sitting her in the tub between your legs.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this. I should be taking care of you.” You let out a sigh, tugging on her hair to force her to relax against your chest. Nesta can punish you for that another day. “Hush, mommy. I want to do this for you because I love you.” You kiss the top of her head for emphasis, wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

After the bath you put on your matching bathrobes and snack on the chocolates while you make bracelets for each other. Wearing your new bracelets you snuggle on the couch and Nesta reads one of her new books to you. She plays with your hair as you lay on her lap.

Once the sun sets you pull Nesta upstairs for the last step of your relaxing day. You adjust the pillows so you each have a comfy spot. “You first,” you smirk at Nesta, straddling her lap. Gently washing her face, giving her small kisses in between steps. Nesta flips you, giving you a fierce kiss that takes your breath away. Pulling away Nesta has a shit eating grin on her face. “Your turn,” she whispers.

With your face masks on and a glass of wine in hand you feed each other what's left of the chocolates. “I love seeing you relaxed.” You whisper, staring at your mate lovingly. Nesta leans over to give you a small kiss. “Thank you, sweet girl. For everything today.”

“I’d do anything for you mommy. I know you would for me.” Nesta kisses you again, “Let’s get these off. I wanna go to bed and snuggle with my baby.” You let out an excited sound and scramble out of bed.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #nesta archeron #nesta x you #nesta x reader #nesta archeron x you #nesta archeron x reader #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #nesta archeron acotar #nesta fic #nesta fluff #nesta fanfic

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oddballwriter · 10 months

Text

Good Smells

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: A nice little blurb involving Marc enjoying certain smells because they remind him of you.

Warnings: There's reference to Marc's past and childhood but it's not entirely front and center. This is still hella fluffy.

Author’s Snip: The reader's gender is never specified but they do have traditionally feminine smells like flowers.

Notes: Something for Marc, my little stress ball of a man. <3

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

"Did you know that out of all of the senses in the human body, smell is most effective in sparking a memory?" Steven mentions as you two walk through the candle aisle of the home decor store.

You don't actually need candles, you came here to get a new desk chair after the previous one was no longer functional or comfortable. But you had a pretty good coupon for the candles here that was going to expire soon. So that's how this topic emerged in Steven's head.

"Does it now?" you reply, "Where'd you learn that." you ask. "Was watching some psychology show while waiting for what I usually watch on that channel we always have on." he answers. "I forget the exact details but apparently when it comes to smells, the neurons in the brain just connect the smell that the nose is picking up with the memory." Steven explains. You hum in response.

"Do you have any smells that make you remember something?" you ask as a means to keep conversation. Steven thinks for a moment before answering, "Whenever I smell that plain room smell, the one's you usually smell in a waiting room or something," he says, "It actually reminds me of storage back at the museum because it had that same smell." Steven correlates. You nod along.

Steven tries to think more on if there are other smells that make him think of something and you sort of wait, but he draws blanks. "I can't think of anything else. I'm sure there's more smells that work for me but right now I'm just getting Marc's." he muttered, sounding more like he was thinking out loud.

"Marc has smells that make him think of things?" you ask. "Yeah, but that's not really something for me to talk about." Steven remarks before continuing to walk along the rest of the aisle. "How about you, love? What are some that you have?" Steven asks, slightly changing the subject to go another direction.

That was a good move of Steven in Marc's opinion. He knows you meant well by asking about the smells that he has connected to memories. It's just that none of his smells are good smells.

No, not like they are things that smell bad. It's that the smells remind him of things that are bad and not so pleasant.

The damp smell of the tunnel.

The smell of the common flowers braided into a grave reef.

Marc had no good smells.

They never really caused the whole immediate remembering thing to be honest. That only happens when he actually lets his mind make the connection. So even then, he had nothing that made him think of anything.

That was until Marc, and the rest of the boys by default, started having certain smells that would just have a memory come up.

And it was all because of you.

You had this hand lotion from some store that smelt like apples. He can smell it on you whenever you cup their face. Sometimes the smell gets on him if he holds your hand long enough or you touch a part of his clothes before it fully settles into the skin of your hands, leaving a small spot with the faintest smell of it. Now whenever he smells anything apple related he just sees your image form in his mind. He literally ate a bear claw donut on a mission once because he missed you and the smell of the apples inside of the pastry made him think of you.

How about that gentle flowery smell that's in your shampoo?

No, it wasn't that artificial smell like the reef. Your shampoo actually smelt like wild and authentic flowers. Like if you stood still long enough a butterfly would mistake the smell of your hair for a patch of flowers. Which is why he buys you flowers from the farmers market. Sure, they're better looking and selling than the artificial ones, but also because he know's you'll put them in a vase somewhere in the flat and when you're away he'll have that same lovely flower smell.

If you were to ask if he had any smells that sparked any memories now, he would have an actual answer. A good answer.

Good smells.

#moonknight #moon knight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader

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unsaidthingsj2e · 1 year

Text

that one good cologne, that you bought when we were fighting

Summary : Memories of the night Jude broke up with you are flooding back as you smell his perfume in the bus.

a/n : once again, ignore any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language,

this is inspired by memories by conan gray (<3) and most specifically by the lyrics i put as the title of this fic!!

this is just angst but also i don't know if anything i ever write has any value so don't get your hopes too high, tho i would love to know what you thought ab it!! love ya

It annoyed you, how memory worked. How the sight of a picture, the sound of a melody, the taste of a pastry, the texture of a shirt, the smell of the air would make you remember stuff you tried so hard to bury deep inside your mind.

You hated how it would hit you at the most random moments, taking you by surprise and sending you into memory lane without your consent.

Because you just entered the bus, eager to finally go home after a long day at uni. You had to run in order to catch the bus and not wait for another 10 minutes in the rain. For once, you spotted a free seat that would relieve your back of the heavy weight of your backpack, the bus ride would, for once, not be living hell.

Quickly making your way to the back of the bus where you saw the seat, you sat and sighed, letting the stress dissolve. After taking quick breaths in order to allow oxygen to course through your veins again, it hit you.

You found yourself physically unable to move as the smell of the air hit you. Your brain only took seconds to catch up, pairing the smell of the cologne the guy behind you wore with what you still describe as the worst period of your life.

Too vividly for your own liking, the scene seemed to play in front of you.

You usually weren't the confrontational type, always preferring hiding your feelings deep inside you, convincing yourself you overreacted when something seemed off.

This is something your boyfriend, Jude, made sure to change throughout your relationship. He made sure you knew he would not react like your parents and past partners always did when you brought up an issue.

You loved him, and this part of him, that was making sure you felt safe, was your favorite. He clearly cared for your bond and wanted you to be able to express whatever was on your mind.

Him reassuring you did not make the process less stressful, as you usually fell back into old patterns, but after a year of dating him, you were beginning to get more comfortable at the idea of openly communicating your feelings.

That's how it started.

"Jude? Can I talk to you please?" you said before you could chicken out of this

"Hi love, I didn't know you came home already" he left his spot in front of the TV to come greet you with a kiss, "sure, what's on your mind?"

This display of attention, that became so rare lately, made you pause, wondering if you were indeed making it all up. But when you made eye contact with the boy, you could still see all the space between you two, that wasn't there before.

"Can we go back on the couch maybe? I'd like to be sitting to discuss this" you tried to create an environment that would lessen the pressure on yourself, not trusting your knees not to break right here and there.

You used to be so sure Jude would be your lifeline, having been friends for so long before dating, and now, knowing how good he could treat you as his girlfriend, you could not help but be confused at what he was becoming.

His eyes grew cold and distant, the time he dedicated to you kept on reducing, the affection behind his nicknames seemingly gone. You wondered if you did something to activate this slow and agonizing descent into your personnal hell; a life without him.

You could see worry creeping up in his eyes, vector of so many emotions, or lack of thereof, he could never hide, "Whatever you'd like, is something wrong?" Jude asked.

"Maybe? I don't really know if i'm making all of this up but you're the one that always insisted I don't let myself spiral with my thoughts right?"

"Yeah, always love, I want you to be comfortable around me"

"Okay, uhm, I couldn't help but notice you slowly slipping away? It's just that you're not around as much, you don't seem to long for the physical touch you usually crave from me and, I feel like you don't even care about me anymore, like you've seen all that was to see and you've just grown bored" you spit out in a single breath, worrying you could change your mind if you didn't say it fast enough.

It's the way the worry in his eyes shifted to a shade closer to annoyance that was the exact reason why you hated doing this, "Hey, I don't know where you think you saw that, but I still love you as much as I did yesterday and all the days before, none of what you said reflects what I'm feeling for you" his honey slicked voice tried to reassure you, but it just didn't seem enough this time.

Engulfing you in a hug to shut down any answer or further explanation you may have had, Jude started kissing your face everywhere he could, "My pretty girl spends her time worrying when she's the only one I see"

You let it slide only because coming up with this took all your energy and you still were unsure whether or not you made everything up,

but the next month just further proved your points

You did try again, multiple times, to bring it up. When you did, he would shut you up with physical attention, hugs that smelled of a new, foreign cologne he bought, and pretty words. Other times, he would straight up avoid the topic. The drastic change in his behavior concerning conversations came with a return of every insecurities he once erased, you stopped trying and just let it eat you from the insides.

A month ago, you had tried to surprise jude by going to his place before he could arrive, and prepare a romantic evening that would serve to cover up your broken relationship. Cooking his favorite meal, baking the desert that he could not get enough of and putting on your guys' favorite playlist, you were happy with your work.

While you were finishing cooking the main dish, your phone vibrated, indicating a new text from your man

"we should talk, come by my place in an hour?"

Not knowing what it could mean nor if you were supposed to reveal your surprise, you did not answer.

10 minutes later, Jude entered his appartement, not expecting to see you here already. You could tell he was about to ask why you showed up so early when he told you to come in an hour before he noticed the music, the smell, the state of the dining table.

"Hi, we should probably talk before doing all of this" he said while gesturing to all the stuff you prepared. the lack of kisses and "thank you"'s were not unusual but still stung as if it was the first time.

"Yeah, sure, what do you wanna talk about?"

"I'll go straight to the point to make it fair to you, because I haven't been. I met a new girl."

Time stopped

"I'm sorry that you were right about all these things you used to hold myself accountable for, but I found myself falling for her and it had to come with putting space between us. I wish things were different but I have to break up with you in order to make things fair for both of us, we just aren't made for each other and it's time we accept it" he said, still filled with confidence and when you dared to look in his eyes, shades of honesty and the lack of empathy or sadness felt like just another knife being thrown into your back.

He was so convinced he was being the good guy, coming clean and acting as if the relationship was a burden to both of you. You wondered how long he has been feeling like that, what triggered the need to be fair now, when he hasn't been for at least a few months, if he said your accusations were correct.

You felt dizzy, confused, hurt, but neither tears nor words were coming out. You could only bet your face was one of stone, with pain all over it written in capital letter with glittery paint. All you knew was that you had to leave, so you did.

Jude had anticipated the shutting down part, knowing you well enough to know this many emotions and facts to process would send you into overdrive, so he did the talking, "As much as I appreciate you and I always did, I doubt a friendship between us would work again. It would, this time, not be fair to my girlfriend, I'm sure you can understand."

The word girlfriend being used for someone that wasn't you made an unexpected sob rip through your chest. You had an hard time believing the man in front of you was the man that used to be your best friend and lover. Such hard words used carelessly, no matter what you felt was so unusual for him.

That cologne, so foreign, caused an headache. Or maybe it was the wave of intense emotions, the contained tears and the broken promises. You made your way to the door, opening it and freezing.

You considered saying a snarky comment about dinner, attacking him about the trust you had put in him, asking about this new girl, but you just couldn't.

You'd look for closure later, when your mind was not foggy and threatening to shut down as well, but for now it's you leaving the double of the keys he gave you behind. More than a key, it was ornamented with keychains from places you had visited together, mostly places where he played with his team. And the key of the heart shaped locker you two had put on the infamous love lock bridge in paris, when he would insist you keep it instead of throwing it in the water, because you would always be the key to his heart.

All hope of a peaceful bus drive was gone, as you still found yourself glued to your seat, paralyzed by the scent of the cologne.

It caused you the same headache it had back then, accompanied by the tears you had held back when last confronted to this smell.

part 2 right here <3

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 11 months

Text

This Wasn't in the Itinerary

Both of you work so hard, it's only right that you be treated to a vacation.

Character; Ruggie Bucchi

Content; fluff, gender-neutral reader, drabble

Word Count; 850+

AN; This is for a mutual of mine who brain rotted and I wanted to write a version of it. I hope you enjoy it!

“A vacation? That I get paid for,” Ruggie gave Leona a semi-shocked look. What's he playing at here?

Leona rolled his eyes, “Yeah, you’ve pulled your weight and then some, so yeah, you’ve earned it. Already booked you a room too, so don’t even try gettin’ out of it.” He tossed a key at Ruggie, who clamoured trying to catch it.

Ruggie’s brows were pinched, but he looked at the key; it looked fancy, way too fancy. “How much was this?” Did I really earn this? “I can’t-”

“Too late, room’s booked. They also got some fancy schmancy breakfast options too,” Leona handed him a card that had all of the information about the resort, all in pretty cursive. "So yeah, you can accept it."

Dear Ruggie Bucchi, Escape the stress of your life and come to The Canopy, a resort focusing on rewinding and letting your hair loose. Enjoy the fresh breakfast made by the best pastry chefs in the Sunset Savannah. Take a dip in one of the many pools on the grounds. Head out on a river cruise and look at the local wildlife. The Canopy is an all-inclusive resort, and we hope you enjoy your stay with us! Room Type & Number; Single bed with a minifridge, as well as a balcony with a hot tub. Room 183, East Wing.

This… this is real. “I-,” he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Thanks, Leona.”

“Don’t mention it,” Leona said nonchalantly He wouldn’t tell Ruggie, but he has been planning this vacation for him for weeks. “Just enjoy it. Ya earned it.”

. . .

When Ruggie arrived at his room there was already a small bag in the process of being put away, but it wasn't his. He double-checked the room number, yup, Room 183, East Wing. then why was there another bag in his room? But that scent smelled familiar-

“Ruggie?”

He turned around and saw you, standing in the doorway holding a brochure for some local shops. “Prefect?” He asked back, equally confused about the entire situation. “What are you doing here?”

You entered the room and went to your bags, looking over the card Professor Crewel left outside your doorstep. Or at least it said it was from the professor, but he hadn't said anything to you about it, but weren't complaining, you worked your butt off. Plus you didn't have to pay for any of this, so you weren't going to turn this down. “On a vacation. And you?”

“Same boat. Well, a forced one,” he also looked at your card. Room 183, East Wing. Had they double-booked the same room by accident? “Wanna talk to the front desk?”

You both looked at the bed; it looked nice, fluffy, and like it was made from the softest clouds. But it was a single, just big enough to hold one person. There was no way it could hold more without the two of you being crammed together. Ruggie could feel his ears heat up at even the idea of being in such cramped quarters with you.

You sighed and grabbed your bag, mentally preparing to talk to customer service. "Not really, but sure, why not?"

. . .

You both returned from the front desk to your room. Your shared room. And there were no other rooms available. Both you and Ruggie were stuck with each other, as the shuttle bus back to Night Raven College didn’t come back until tomorrow at noon at the earliest. So you would be stuck here for the night, sharing a single bed, together. But there were worse ways to spend your vacation, plus you like Ruggie.

“If you want I can take the floor, I don’t mind,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You placed a hand on his forearm, stopping him. “No, it’s okay,” you gave him a soft smile, “I don’t mind.”

You got into bed a squished yourself to the edge so Ruggie could have the other half. Once he got comfy he looked up and then quickly looked away, and so did you. It was a tight squeeze, but like hell were you going to make him sleep on the floor.

Huh, did he always have flecks of silver in his eyes? You shook your head, trying to shoo those thoughts away. When you looked back up though, Ruggie was already asleep, lightly snoring. Has he always been this pretty?

He shuffled over to you, slinging an arm across you. “Mmm, don’t leave,” he mumbled.

You stiffened but then relaxed, sighing. You carded your fingers through his hair and looked at him softly. “I won’t.” You sat there for a little bit before you too fell asleep, hiding your face next to his heart. A steady thump thump thump luring you deeper and deeper into a calm dream.

. . .

“You did that on purpose didn’t you,” Jack asked, looking up at Leona.

Leona shrugged, “Eh, they don’t need to know that.”

Professor Crewel was not the one to gift you an all-expenses paid holiday, it was Leona. He had grown tired of the two of you not admitting anything and it was driving him up the wall, so he decided to speed things up. Hopefully, his plan turned out… the both of you deserved good things.

#twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi x gn reader #twst drabble #just something short this time; yes 850+ is short #got the 'there was only one bed' rizz #technically leona and jack make a brief appearance but they're not the main focus; so no tag for them <3 #been stuck on jack's story so enjoy some more ruggie~#hope the ruggie kissers enjoy #twst fluff #ruggie fluff #trying this format out to see if i like it

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nevernonline · 3 months

Text

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #16; the part we play.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 1.5k

note: in-between photo sets is some writing!! xo

masterlist ▸ 015 leave it to the cullens (part 2). ▸ 017 happy trails.

Jumping out of bed and throwing on a random pair of sweatpants scattered on her floor in what y/n referred to as her “stress pile” of clothes, she ran down the hallway to the front door to check who she had kept waiting for over ten minutes.

Much to her surprise it wasn’t one of her obnoxious friends waking her and her overnight guest up so early, but a shady one. Joshua.

“Y/n? I know you’re here, I asked the front door man if he had seen you leave yet this morning? Hello?”

And with a couple more knocks pounding in her brain, she swung the door open to reveal a smiling old friend holding a bouquet of wild flowers and a box of pastries.

“Sorry. Hangover. Why are you here?”

“Tomorrow is your birthday?”

“Right. But, it's also 7:30 in the morning?”

“I thought I’d come by today so I didn’t disrupt whatever plans you have tomorrow with Seokmin and Jun. That’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So.. Can I come in? Or do you not want to have a chocolate croissant?”

“I do, but coffee! I’m out of coffee. Can we go get some? I can’t possibly have a pastry without it, silly.”

“Yeah, of course. Mind if I use the bathroom?”

“Why don’t you just use the-”

In all of her attempts at protesting Joshua walking through her apartment and finding the boy hidden in the guest room, he still managed to somehow find a way in. Just like he was doing to her heart. She knew she shouldn’t even entertain the idea of spending a day with him and pretend that she has no idea the amount of blackmail he had a hand in, but a part of her couldn’t help it.

In all her daze of thinking of the moral repercussions of his and her own actions. She didn’t even notice him slipping back by her side. As she rapidly texted the man she unnoticeably had hidden in the room down the hall it was his time to sneak out like a secret to be kept.

“Ready?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”

“So, how was Wonwoo’s event?”

“Well for starters I had no idea that gamers drank so hard, I felt like I was back in freshman year of college trying to keep up with drunk Soonyoung and you at those dumb ass Dream Boy parties you used to take me to.”

“That hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I haven’t drank like that in so long. It’s fun once and a while I guess.”

Walking into the white walled coffee shop with Joshua felt like some sort of omen, but y/n couldn’t decide if it was a good one or a bad one just yet.

If Joshua was honest about his play in the game with Mimi, maybe someday down the road she could forgive him and patch up their friendship one last time. But, the more he waited to say anything, the more he lied and kept his secret the less she even believed he’d own up to his actions.

“What would you like?”

“Just a drip coffee please, large, no sugar or milk.”

“Okay, I’ll pay.”

“Wow. Thank you so much.”

Sensing y/n’s sarcasm, he smiled and turned towards the register placing their matching order and grabbing the cups as he handed her the steaming cup of fresh coffee and made their way back to her apartment.

Waiting to cross the street her front door opened, walking out was Minghao dressed in his same outfit from the night before, catching y/n’s eyes, as she quickly turned Joshua around to look at a dog passing by so Minghao could make his quick exit without any suspicion.

When she was sure he made his exit and got out of the line of sight, with Joshua by her side they headed back up to her apartment, announcing she needed to go use the restroom fast and search the bedroom that once belonged to another untrustworthy friend.

Under her laptop sitting on the desk, a small note was placed with just the corner of the purple sticky note sticking to the side.

‘Swan, by midnight tonight you’ll be one year older. I hope another trip around the sun brings you peace of mind and the happiness you truly deserve. See you tomorrow, MH.”

Placing the note under the cover of her laptop, she smiled to herself and decided now was the time to confront an elephant in the room.

She walked back up to Joshua sitting on her couch, the plate of chocolate croissants placed on the glass coffee table, two cups of coffee on either side.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.”

“I need you to listen to me, like really listen and don’t deflect. I need you to tell me how you got my journal to Mimi.”

“I didn-”

“You did. I know it was you who took it, I just want to know why?”

“Just listen. I didn’t take it to give it to Mimi. I actually took it before she even got back in touch with me. And I didn’t just stumble upon it on my own time. Minnie showed me it, she wanted me to know how much I hurt you and how you felt about me because you never told me. You kept all those cards so close to your chest, I felt like I had to read more. So, the night of Mingyu’s bar opening, I had Mimi over at my house after, we were just catching up, talking, nothing too serious, she had just moved back and needed somewhere to stay for the night. She was the one who found your journal and took it and concocted the entire plan.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I guess why didn’t you just tell me all of this at the beginning?”

“I was just going to bring you your diary back and ask you out, I had feelings for you too. I still do. I eventually was going to tell you everything. But, it just got so complicated and the day I came over and saw Minghao here, I got so pissed off at you for trusting him after he hurt me, I figured he’d hurt you too.”

“But he didn’t. You did.”

“I know. I should’ve just told you the truth from the beginning, but I was scared to lose you.”

“You already had lost me. How am I supposed to even believe a word you’re telling me right now?”

“Because, I have proof. The only reason I even still talk to Mimi is to make sure she doesn’t go too far.”

“Why did you fight with Minghao then?”

“He pisses me off. Simple as that. I knew he had helped Mimi. I knew he was being deceitful to you as well, but so was I. It was just a matter of who owned up to it first.”

“Alright. What else do you know?”

“I know that Minnie is helping Mimi. They’ve been in contact with each other for quite some time, even before Mimi moved back. I can’t tell you why only because I genuinely have no clue. But, I have a feeling she's trying to hide something about herself and not exposing you.”

“And Mingyu?”

“No. He has nothing to do with it.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm, sure.”

“Do you think we can ever get past this? Even if we just stay friends or see each other once and a while?”

“If what you’re telling me is a hundred percent true, then I think we can. But, if I find out you’re lying to me, I will never speak to you again.”

“I can show you the texts. Between me and Mimi, Minnie, Minghao. Anyone involved.”

“Who sent me the bouquet? You right?”

“Yeah. It was just a warning to be careful about the people around you.”

“Okay. Well. Thanks for telling me, I guess.”

“There’s something else.”

“Uh, alright?”

“Tonight. There’s a party at Mingyu’s bar that Minnie was throwing for your birthday. I came over here initially to invite you. They told me only you’re invited. No Seokmin, Jun, or anyone else.”

“Why?”

“They wanted me to take you as a surprise.”

“My party is supposed to be tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“So they have something planned for me and I feel like it’s safe to say it’s not good.”

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s safe to assume that yeah.”

“Okay, if you want to make it up to me. You’ll help me sneak Minghao and the dorks into the back of his restaurant.”

“Yes.”

“Call Jeonghan, tell him everything. Get him to cause a distraction so they can come inside. Text Minnie and ask if it’s okay you invite Seokmin to come with you and I. It's believable I wouldn’t go anywhere on my own without him and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Are you going to tell me what the rest is?”

“Yes, eventually.”

“Okay, let’s hurry, we have about three hours until I’m supposed to bring you.”

“What’s the dress code?”

“Formal. It's some sort of mask party.”

“Fuck.”

“So you’re still friends with Hao?”

“Yes, idiot. I heard you jiggle the doorknob this morning. Come on.”

taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi @hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee

note: hi me again!! lol. I hope you enjoy this messy lil installment. not my favorite (everyone says this sometimes ik ik) let me know what you think our resident traitor mimi is up too 👀

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