#AND THEN THE ENTIRE THING SPILLED IN MY BAG ON THE WAY TO WORK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unsteddie · 7 months ago

Text

Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.

Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.

They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.

Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has

It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.

The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.

Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.

"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.

Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.

Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.

Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.

The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.

"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."

Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.

He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.

"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.

"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"

And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.

"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.

"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.

"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.

"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."

And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."

"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.

The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #we're in the happy sads boys

1K notes · View notes

hurtblossom · 1 month ago

Text

On thin ice ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female Iceskater!Reader

Summary : Lando is jealous of his girlfriend's iceskating partner.

Warnings : Angst, established relationship

The sharp scrape of skates against ice filled the cavernous rink, the sound bouncing off the empty seats and high ceilings. (Y/N) exhaled deeply, her breath clouding the chilly air as she steadied herself. Ethan skated toward her, his movements effortless, his presence as comforting as ever.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Ethan teased lightly, stopping in front of her.

She gave him a weak smile. “I can’t help it.”

“You don’t need to. You’ve got this.”

He held out his hand, and she took it, their fingers locking with the ease of years spent practicing together. They moved into the opening position of their routine, the soft strains of music echoing through the rink as they began.

Every spin, every lift, every glide was a testament to their hard work, their connection honed over countless hours of practice. Ethan’s hand on her back, his voice low and steady as he guided her through a lift, was nothing new to her. It was simply a part of the dance.

But to Lando, it was something else entirely.

Lando had been her biggest supporter in the beginning. When they first started dating, he’d been captivated by her passion for skating. He admired her dedication, often comparing it to his own drive for Formula 1. They bonded over their shared understanding of sacrifice and ambition, and for a while, it felt like they were unstoppable.

But as their lives grew busier, the cracks began to form.

(Y/N) had always made time for Lando, traveling to his races whenever her schedule allowed. She’d spent hours in the paddock, enduring the chaos and noise just to be there for him. She cheered the loudest when he stood on the podium, comforted him when he didn’t, and never once complained about the toll it took on her own life.

Lando, however, struggled to do the same.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He did—deeply. But his jealousy over her partnership with Ethan was a wound that festered, growing more painful with each passing day. He hated the way Ethan’s name was always on her lips, the way she spent more time on the ice with him than she did at home with Lando.

He hated that Ethan got to see her in her element—the part of her life Lando could never truly understand.

The tension between them came to a head one evening when (Y/N) returned from practice later than usual. Lando was waiting for her, his arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

“Practice ran over,” she replied, setting her bag down.

“With Ethan, I assume,” he added, his tone sharp.

(Y/N) sighed, already bracing herself for the argument she knew was coming. “Yes, Lando. With Ethan. Who else would it be?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he snapped, pushing off the counter. “It’s always Ethan. You spend more time with him than you do with me.”

Her jaw tightened. “Lando, we’ve been over this. He’s my skating partner. That’s all.”

“And I’m supposed to just be okay with that?” he demanded. “You don’t see how weird this is? How it looks?”

She crossed her arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. “How it looks? Lando, this is my career. I’ve been skating with Ethan for years—long before I met you. Why is this suddenly a problem?”

“Because I see the way he looks at you,” Lando shot back. “Like you’re more than just his partner.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank at the accusation, her chest tightening. “That’s not fair. Ethan and I are teammates, nothing more. You’re my boyfriend. Why can’t you trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he admitted, his voice quieter but no less pained.

She stared at him, her tears threatening to spill. “Do you even realize how much I’ve sacrificed for you? How many races I’ve been to, how many times I’ve put you first? And now, when I need your support, all you can do is accuse me of things that aren’t even true?”

His expression faltered, guilt flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I’m coming second.”

The words hit her like a slap, leaving her speechless. She turned away, unable to look at him. “If you can’t handle my life, then maybe you shouldn’t be in it.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Lando grabbed his jacket, his movements abrupt.

“Fine,” he said coldly. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed in the empty apartment, leaving her standing alone, her chest heaving as silent tears streamed down her face.

—

The day of the competition arrived, but (Y/N) felt hollow. The weight of Lando’s absence pressed heavily on her chest as she laced up her skates backstage. Ethan sat beside her, his presence steady and comforting.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice calm.

She nodded, though her hands trembled as she tied the final knot. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

The arena was packed, the cheers of the crowd echoing off the high ceilings as they stepped onto the ice. She scanned the stands instinctively, half-hoping to see Lando’s familiar face. But he wasn’t there.

The music began, and she forced herself to focus, moving through the opening steps with precision. But her mind betrayed her, Lando’s words echoing in her head. “Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I’m coming second.”

Her foot slipped slightly during a turn, the mistake small but glaring to her trained eye. Ethan caught her immediately, his grip firm as he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

They continued, but the mistakes kept coming—hesitant steps, uneven spins, moments of faltering confidence. Each one felt like another crack in her resolve, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill.

By the time the routine ended, her face was damp with tears. Ethan kept her close as they bowed, his hand squeezing hers in silent reassurance.

Backstage, (Y/N) sank onto a bench, her head in her hands as the adrenaline faded. Ethan sat beside her, his voice soft as he said, “You did great.”

She shook her head, her voice breaking. “I messed up.”

“No one noticed,” he said firmly. “You were incredible.”

But his words did little to soothe the ache in her chest.

When she returned home that night, she found Lando sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked up as she walked in, his eyes heavy with guilt.

“I saw your routine,” he said quietly. “You looked beautiful out there.”

Her chest tightened as she dropped her bag by the door. “But you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there after the fight,” he admitted, his voice breaking.

Her tears spilled over as she stepped closer. “I always want you there, Lando. Even when we fight, even when I’m angry, I need you to be there. But tonight, you weren’t. And it broke me.”

He stood, reaching for her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I let my jealousy get in the way, and I should have been there. You deserved better.”

She shook her head, her voice trembling. “Do you even realize how much I’ve given for you? And the one time I needed you, you weren’t there.”

His voice was thick with emotion as he said, “I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

She stepped back, the pain in her chest unbearable. “I don’t know if you can, Lando.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and final, as she turned away, leaving him standing alone in the quiet apartment.

⁴

an : leave comments please 😞😞 i love to read them, i feel important

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x you #ln4 fluff #lando x you #lando norris #lando norris angst

670 notes · View notes

bunny-1111 · 4 months ago

Text

Did I stutter? TN x fem!reader Part 2.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

WARNING: SMUTTTT, Reader discretion (18+) NO MINORSSSSSSS PLS

Authors note: first smut kinda nervous... this is a long one, I hope y'all enjoy <3

Part one here

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

What the fuck now, you think, making your way to the common room.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s useless. Theo’s always been hard to read, kept his cards too close to his chest, but this feels different—like he’s dropped the mask just enough for you to glimpse something darker lurking beneath. Something you’re not sure how to deal with, what the fuck is next, this sudden dominance is not hard to accept but hard to understand.

When you finally return to the common room, Pansy lounges on one of the sofas, flipping through a magazine. She barely looks up when you enter.

“Well? Did he say anything?” she asks, her voice dripping with casual curiosity, but you know her well enough to recognise the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"How did you even see us having a conversation?" you enquire, brows furrowing

"I saw you walk past, then I saw Theo walk back The opposite way with a tiny but telling smile on his face", she smiles "So tell me, what did he say? Did he ask you to the dance?" she continues.

You toss your bag onto the floor, sinking into the chair opposite her. “No, not exactly,” you mutter, more confused than ever. Your mind still replaying the look Theo gave you, the way he practically claimed you without saying a word.

Pansy arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of gossip. “Not exactly? That doesn’t sound like nothing. Come on, spill.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. “He asked if anyone had asked me, and when I said no, he said… ‘Good. Keep it that way.’” The words feel strange in your mouth as if they don’t belong to a casual conversation but something heavier and more serious.

Pansy stares at you for a moment, then her lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Oh, that’s rich. Typical Theo.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Pansy tosses the magazine aside, leaning forward like she’s about to reveal some grand secret. “He’s marking his territory, babe. Telling you not to go with anyone else, without actually having the guts to ask you himself.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words. Could she be right? Was Theo staking some kind of silent claim over you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and not entirely out of fear. There’s a part of you—a part you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to—that likes the idea of being claimed by him.

But that doesn’t mean you’re okay with the way he’s going about it.

“So what?” you say, exasperation creeping into your voice. “He’s just going to tell me to wait around for him while he ignores me at the ball?”

Pansy shrugs, unbothered. “Pretty much. That’s how these boys work. They want you, but they’re too proud to ask. So they’ll just… hover.”

You roll your eyes, sinking further into the chair. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait for him to make up his mind.”

Pansy grins, eyes twinkling with something dangerous. “Then don’t. Go with someone else. Let him squirm.”

The idea sounds thrilling, but you know it’s not that simple. Theo’s not the kind of guy you can make squirm. He’s the kind that would shut down any attempt to get under his skin, the kind who would lash out rather than admit any kind of weakness. And yet, the thought of pushing him—of seeing just how far he’ll go to keep you—lights a fire in your chest.

That's what you will do. Push him until he can't hold off any longer.

Toying with Theo was a dangerous game to play, even if you knew that, but if he's just going to sit there and not make anything happen, then, fuck, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Yes, you could just do the normal thing and pull him aside for a conversation, but now, where's the fun in that?

The next day, arriving at charms class, you don't take your usual seat with Theo and your friends. Instead, you skip over and find a place next to Anthony Goldstein, a cute Ravenclaw boy, who you knew would piss Theo off.

"Morning", you smile at Anthony. He looks at you, confused but excited.

"Good morning," he returns, starting what would become a cheerful conversation. As you laugh and talk throughout the class, you quickly glance over at a visibly upset Theodore and a very wide-smiling pansy. She knew what you were doing, and Theodore was catching on, too.

Theo’s eyes are burning holes into the back of your head, and you can feel it. Every time you lean in a little closer to Anthony, let out a laugh that’s just a touch too loud; you know Theo’s watching. It’s exactly what you wanted—his attention, focus, and jealousy. But now that you have it, it’s making your skin prickle in anticipation in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for.

Anthony’s sweet, too sweet. He’s charming, and he’s kind, but he’s not Theo. There’s no edge to him, no danger. And while the conversation flows easily enough, your mind keeps drifting back to the boy brooding in the corner, whose eyes haven’t left you since the class began. You know he’s seething. Good. He should be. He warned you to keep away from any guy who could want something off you, but you weren’t getting enough out of Theo, so he pushed this out of you, you determine.

As the class drags on, you notice the shift in the air. Theo’s presence feels suffocating, almost predatory like he’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You can’t help but glance over again, meeting his gaze for just a second—long enough to see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw is clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, and for a second, you think he might snap right there in the middle of class, but he doesn’t. He’s controlled, as always. And that only frustrates you more.

You knew you were aggravating him. You have no idea what the consequences are; you have a feeling brewing in your chest that you would find out sooner than later.

When your professor dismisses the class, you gather your things slowly, lingering by Anthony’s side, pretending not to notice the way Theo’s already standing by the door, waiting for you. Anthony smiles, oblivious, and asks if you’d like to walk to the Great Hall with him. You almost say yes, just to push Theo a little further, but before the words leave your mouth, you feel a hand wrap firmly around your wrist.

You turn to see Theo, his eyes dark and dangerous, staring down at you with a look that makes your heart race.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s tugging you out of the classroom, pulling you through the corridors, a man on a mission. You stumble to keep up, your mind racing to catch up with him, but there’s no mistaking the tension in the air now. He’s pissed. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When he drags you into a broom closet and slams the door behind you, your pulse is pounding in your ears. Theo’s still gripping your wrist, his fingers tight around your skin, and when he finally lets go, your breathe was still held tight, like he was the one who could allow you to exhale

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, his voice cold, but his eyes—God, his eyes are on fire.

You straighten up, refusing to back down. “What do you mean?”

Theo takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours as he looms over you. “You know exactly what I mean,” he growls. “Sitting with Goldstein. Laughing with him. What was that, huh? Trying to make me jealous?”

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to show how much his proximity affects you. “Is it working?”

His jaw ticks, and for a moment, you think he might lose control. But then he surprises you—he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You want to play games, fine. But you’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens next.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. The tension between you is electric, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his body is coiled, ready to snap. You know you’ve pushed him to the edge, but you’re not backing down now. Not when you’ve come this far.

“I think I can handle it,” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. It’s enough to break whatever restraint Theo’s been holding onto.

“Are you sure?” he stalks even closer, leaning down to you, his fingers forcing your face up to his all you can do it nod as an unexpected wave of shyness hits you. Your heart drops when you hear a gentle but quick knock on the door, please, you think no one interrupts what might just finally happen. You both look at the twisting door knob, silence falls.

“Hey, it everything ok in here? It’s Anthony” your heart drops, Theo might spiral.

His hands loop around you, pushing you behind him, opening the door, “Everything's just fine. You don’t go following girls into broom closets all the time, do you? Shes with me. Now fuck far off,” Theo replied, slamming the door in his face.

You hear his footsteps quickly rush off

He flicks the lock of the door so quickly, so quick to kiss you that anything you feel melts away, in an instant, his hands are on you, gripping your waist, pulling you against him with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. His lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, like he’s finally letting go of everything he’s been holding back. You don’t even have time to think before you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, harder, deeper.

It’s all heat and intensity, a wild storm brewing for far too long. Theo’s hands roam over your body, possessive and hungry, like he’s claiming every inch of you as his, his lips never leaving yours as his hands work quickly, almost frantically, to tug at the hem of your shirt. You gasp as his fingers brush against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Theo pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice thick with possessiveness.

You nod, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. In one swift motion, he lifts you onto a surface, everything happening so fast you dont even know what he’s sat you on; all you can focus on is his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he moves between your legs. His lips are on your neck now, kissing, biting, leaving marks that you know will be there tomorrow.

Your hands fumble with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. When you finally get it off, you run your hands over the hard planes of his chest, savouring the way his muscles tense under your touch. Theo groans against your neck, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. But you don’t care. You want more. You need more.

“Theo,” you gasp, arching your back as his lips trail lower, his hands working quickly to undo the buttons of your blouse. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling it off and tossing it aside before his mouth finds your skin again.

He’s everywhere—his hands, lips, teeth—and it’s all too much, not enough. You’re dizzy with it, consumed by him, by the way, he touches you like he’s been starving for it. For you.

He only stops for a second, his lips not far from yours but far enough to speak, “I can’t take you in a broom closet, alright? Let’s go to my dorm; you’ll be more comfortable” he quickly says, almost out of breath.

“Theo” you mutter “You can take me anywhere. Here’s just fine, please, I can’t wait anymore, please, I don’t want to waste another second” you whine, quickly joining your lips together again.

He doesn’t protest; when he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. “You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Fuck, no one else gets to touch you. Understand?”

You nod, your heart racing as you reach for him again, pulling him back to you. “Only you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and there’s no going back this time.

Theo’s mouth crashes against yours with even more intensity, his hands gripping your hips as though he can’t stand the thought of being apart from you for even a second. It’s not just a kiss anymore—it’s a declaration of something raw and primal that neither of you have the strength to fight off any longer.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against you. You can feel the hard press of his body against yours, and it sends a wave of heat through you so intense it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, and your breath hitches as his fingers brush over the thin fabric of your underwear. You can feel the smirk on his lips as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark with desire as they roam over your flushed face. “All worked up for me, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You want to come up with some smart reply, something to challenge him, but all that comes out is a soft whimper as his fingers tease the edge of your underwear, barely grazing where you need him most. Your body arches and pulses into his touch, silently begging for more, and Theo’s smirk deepens.

“Patience,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll give you what you want, but you must tell me what you want.”

Your pride screams at you not to give in, not to let him have that satisfaction, but the ache between your legs is too much. You need him, now. So, you swallow your pride, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

“Please, Theo. Please”

“Tsk tsk tsk, please, what? Come on, words, sweet thing,”

“I need you to touch me Teddy, need to feel you” You practically whimper

Your pleading seems to flip a switch in him, and suddenly his teasing stops. His fingers slip under the fabric, brushing against your soaked core, and you gasp, your head falling back as the sensation sends sparks shooting through your body

“Good girl,” he growls, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands grip his back exposed, your body trembling as his fingers work you over with an expert precision that makes it clear he’s been thinking about this for a long time. You can barely breathe, your mind going fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure as Theo’s thumb presses against your clit, drawing out a moan that you can’t hold back.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watches the way your body reacts to his touch. “Falling apart for me already. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers, send you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, your body tightening with the mounting tension. You can feel it building, coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall over the edge.

Theo must sense it too, because his pace quickens, his fingers moving faster, harder, and his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as you cling to him. Your entire body is on fire, the pleasure so intense it feels like you might break apart at any second, and then, finally, you do.

The it hits you like a wave, crashing over you with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You cry out, your nails digging into Theo’s shoulders as your body trembles beneath him, completely lost in the sensation. Theo doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their steady rhythm as he helps you ride out every last shudder of pleasure. You can’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder.

By the time it finally fades, you’re left panting, your body limp and spent as you rest against the desk, your forehead pressed against Theo’s shoulder. He’s breathing hard too, his chest rising and falling in time with yours, but there’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice a low growl as he brushes a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “No one else. Ever.”

You nod, still catching your breath, your heart racing in your chest. “Only yours,” you whisper, and you mean it.

Theo leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and for a moment, the intensity between you softens. His hands, once rough and demanding, now hold you gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid of breaking you. And in this moment, you realise just how deep his feelings for you run, how much he’s been holding back.

“You don’t have to make me jealous to get my attention,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You’ve had it from the start.”

You smile against his mouth, your hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss. It’s softer now, slower, but no less intense. Because even though Theo might be possessive and a little rough around the edges, you know that this, you, means more to him than he’s ever let on.

“Let's go to my dorm, alright? Get you cleaned up,” he smiles, leading you out of the now very messy broom cupboard. To your surprise, Anthony is waiting for you a few metres up; Theo moves your body to the other side of him so that it is Theo that is closest to him. When you both walk straight past him he casually says, “Don’t worry about that piece of shit, Ravenclaw, I’ll fix him up tomorrow.” You wondered if that should worry you, not a problem for right now though, your mind still racing with lust and love.

The next morning, you wake up with a warm, almost surreal feeling in your chest. Everything feels different, like the air’s lighter, the world softer, and it’s all because of him. Theo. Yesterday's intensity, the way his hands gripped you like he’d never let go, still lingers on your skin like a secret that only the two of you share. You stretch out on your bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the memories replay in your head. You can’t help but smile as your body remembers the feeling.

But then, of course, reality hits you in the form of Pansy bloody Parkinson.

She barges into the dorm room with all the subtlety of a troll, her arms full of bags from her morning Hogsmeade run. Merlin, that girl has a shopping addiction. "Good morning, sunshine," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she drops the bags onto her bed. "You’re glowing. What did you do? Save a baby unicorn?"

You roll your eyes, pulling the covers up to your chin, trying to hide the ridiculous grin that’s threatening to spill across your face. But Pansy, being Pansy, is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out drama, and she narrows her eyes at you.

"Hold on," she says, pausing mid-unpacking, one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. "What is that look? That is not a ‘just got a full night’s sleep’ look. That is a someone rocked my world last night look."

You burst into laughter, but it’s the nerves that I’m hiding something kind of laugh, and Pansy’s eyes widen like she’s hit the jackpot.

"No fucking way." She abandons her bags completely, climbing onto your bed and sitting cross-legged before you. "Spill. Now."

You bite your lip, wondering how in Merlin's name you’re going to explain this without sounding completely insane. But then again, it’s Pansy. There’s no hiding anything from her, and part of you wants to tell her, to relive every second of it by saying it out loud. So, you do.

"It was Theo," you admit quietly, your heart racing as the words leave your mouth. "Yesterday. We… we hooked up."

Pansy’s jaw drops so hard you’re pretty sure you hear it hit the floor. "Theo? As in Theo Nott? The same Theo who’s been brooding over you for months and never made a move?"

You nod, feeling your face heat up under her gaze. "Yeah, that Theo."

For a moment, Pansy is entirely silent, just staring at you like she’s processing this monumental piece of information. Then, suddenly, she lets out a shriek so loud it probably wakes up half the castle.

"Holy shit!" she squeals, grabbing your hands and bouncing on the bed like an excited child. "I knew it! I fucking knew he had it bad for you! So? Was it amazing? Was he, like, all dominating and rough like I always imagined? Tell me everything!"

You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you think about last night—the way Theo touched you, the way he claimed you, like he’d been holding back for so long and finally couldn’t anymore.

"It was…" You pause, searching for the right word. "Intense. And, yeah, he was definitely possessive. He kept saying I was his."

Pansy squeals again, throwing herself back onto the bed dramatically. "I knew it! I knew that brooding, quiet thing was just a front. Ok, you’re my best friend you owe me the whole story, Don’t miss a detail." as you explain step by step you watch her eyes widen and her smile grow

Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Matteo and Blaise stroll in without waiting for an invitation, looking far too smug for your liking. Blaise immediately heads for Pansy’s bed, flopping down like he owns the place, while Matteo leans against the dresser, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"What’s with the giddy shrieks?" Blaise asks, raising an eyebrow. "You two plotting something evil this early in the morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet"

Pansy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. We don’t need to plot evil. It just comes naturally."

Matteo snickers, but his eyes flick to you, narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… what’s going on? Why does she look all… flustered?"

Before you can even think of a response, Pansy, being the absolute traitor that she is, jumps in with, "Oh, didn’t you hear? Our girl here finally got some action. With Theo."

Matteo and Blaise both freeze, staring at you in shock. For a split second, there’s dead silence, and then, like a synchronised team, they both throw their heads back and shout, "Finally!"

Your eyes widen as Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "I was starting to think you two would just brood at each other for the rest of eternity."

Matteo crosses the room, sitting on the edge of your bed and giving you a playful shove. "Took you long enough."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Can everyone just stop? This is mortifying."

"Mortifying?" Matteo laughs. "No, what’s mortifying is how long you two have been dancing around each other. Honestly, I’m just relieved one of you finally made a move."

Blaise leans back against Pansy’s bed, smirking. "Yeah, we’ve been placing bets on when it would happen. Matteo won, by the way."

You look up, horrified. "You’ve been betting on us?"

"Of course we have," Pansy says, grinning. "It’s been, like, the slowest burn of the century."

You sigh, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. As much as they’re embarrassing you right now, there’s something comforting in the way your friends are reacting—like they’ve all been rooting for this to happen as much as you have.

Blaise stands, giving you a teasing salute. "Well, I’ll leave you to bask in your post-Theo high. Just… try not to kill each other, yeah?"

Matteo follows him out the door, tossing one last look over his shoulder. "Finally."

Once they’re gone, you collapse back onto the bed, shaking your head. "I can’t believe them."

Pansy grins, lying next to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can. We’ve been watching this unfold for ages. I’m so happy for you."

“Thank you Pans”, you smile, turning as you lay closer next to her

“Oh! I heard the most unusual thing this morning. Draco told me,” she starts

“Go on” you giggle

“That Anthony Goldstein practically crawled to the hospital wing this morning, black eye, bloody shirt, it seemed pretty ruff” she continued “wait, weren't you sitting by him just yesterday?” you remembered.

Oh, Theo, he did indeed ‘take care of it’.

819 notes · View notes

kotoku · 11 months ago

Text

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - sunday x injured! reader / aventurine x injured! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ angst but with comfort/ fluff in the end

warnings - a bit of angst (?), maybe like two sprinkles..

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Sunday had been filing through his paperwork, eyes skimming over the contents before tucking it into its rightful folder. The ticking of a clock was the only sound that filled the room, besides the noise of papers being shuffled. It was then his mind had begun to wonder, filtering out the ambiance and recalling the last conversation the two of you had shared before leaving for work.

“It seems that something urgent has come up at work. I’ll be leaving now, Sunday.” You quickly put on your footwear that you normally use for work, making sure that it isn't loose. Sunday stood near the front door and offered you your bag that held your belongings when you got up.

“Alright, stay safe, my dear.”

And with a quick peck on the lips, you had set off to work, leaving Sunday in the doorway feeling a little lonely.

With a shake of his head and the shutting of the door, Sunday had made his way to the bedroom to start his own routine.

There was no need for him to feel lonely. As you would be back in his arms later that day.

He wouldn’t have had to wait that long, as he was notified of your disappearance by your boss.

Sunday had dropped whatever paperwork he was doing, the papers that were once neatly organized scattered across his desk. When he had got the call from your superior, knots of dread had weaved itself in his stomach and it made him want to puke.

He left his office in a hurry, not bothering to close the door fully as he sprinted to the place your superior had sent you to. Your superior had said that you had an assignment within the real dreamscape, something about the memetic entities within it that were disrupting the environment. The group that was sent to the area had lost you somewhere deep within it before they were attacked by those monsters.

The thought of you being by yourself while facing those things made a shiver run up his spine. He knew how capable you were but he didn’t want to risk losing another person again.

Not after what happened to his sister.

When Sunday got to the real dreamscape, he had met with the group you were sent with before leaving on his own to find you. He tore the entire place apart, searching for any traces of where you could have gone before stumbling upon a trail of freshly spilled blood. Your blood.

Sunday cursed under his breath, following the trail that led him through door after door. It was then the trail stopped, your beaten up form sitting up against the wall, a pool of blood beneath you from the blood that you were losing. You were on the verge of unconsciousness.

For a moment he felt his heart stop, hands clenching in anger and fear at what had done this to you. But despite the urge to eliminate whoever was responsible, he needed to focus and bring you somewhere safe.

You hadn’t registered the footsteps that were quickly approaching you, the gentleness of the person who was carrying you and the soft fluttering of wings against your face, nor the warm grip on your hand while you got transported to the infirmary. It was then when you could barely make out a couple of people above you that you were swept away to darkness.

-----

There was a faint noise coming from beside you. It was the sound of the monitors that were hooked up to you, the IV pole sitting nearby with its saline bag half empty. The bright lights that flooded your vision as soon as you woke caused you to wince, slowly shuffling in the medical bed you were set on.

The pain you felt was almost unbearable. The myriad of bandages on your body and the cast around your leg were proof of where the pain originated. You could barely move around that much with how everything was restricting you, yet you attempted to find a comfortable position.

However, you felt a lightweight resting on your thigh and a loose grip holding your hand.

“Sunday..?” You croaked out, peering over at the man who slept peacefully with some of his loose feathers around you. You figured that he must’ve been so stressed that some had popped right off, poor thing.

Reaching out a hand and carefully swiping away some of his disheveled hair, you saw the bags that had formed under his eyes. How many days has it been? It was clear that he had spent a while there with you, waiting for the moment that you’d awaken, but his tiredness eventually caught up to him. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling a little guilty you had caused your lover this much stress.

Sunday stirring awake snapped you out of your thoughts. He slowly blinked his eyes open and lifted himself away from where he lay as he noticed that you were awake.

“_____..? You’re awake..! Thank Xipe..I almost thought you weren’t going to wake up anytime soon.” Sunday breathed a sigh of relief, the feelings of stress and anxiety that ate away at him disappearing. He carefully cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there in time, My Love…”

“Sunday… You don’t need to apologize for that. I should be apologizing for my recklessness…” You murmured, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You sunk further into his touch, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your cheek.

“Nonsense, you were only doing your duty.” Sunday firmly stated, nudging you to look him in the eyes. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, not just from the pain but the reassurance that Sunday gave you. You would not have known what to do if either one of you lost the other, so you were eternally grateful that both of you were alive at this moment.

A brief silence fell between the both of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable but rather comforting, enjoying the presence of each other for a little longer before the nurses would check in on you.

“If you think about it… You’re kind of like my guardian angel, Sunday.” Sunday chuckled.

“I guess I am."

-----

You and Aventurine had an..interesting start to your developing friendship that brought you to where you are now. The both of you had first started working at the IPC in the same department so the frequent appearances of the other never really surprised either one of you. There would be times when you’d guys share small talk, but that never really lasted long as you got swept away to another assignment.

When you had started rising through the ranks, there was an unspoken rivalry that began to form between you and Aventurine. You never really cared or bothered to feed into this ‘rivalry’, but you had to admit that it was pretty funny seeing Aventurine so fired up if something fortunate happened to you. This led to constant teasing and bickering whenever the two of you encountered each other. It got even worse when you got paired to the same assignment as him. Yet he did know when to take things seriously so you both could get the job done.

It had been a rather uninteresting day of work for Aventurine, bound to his desk and reviewing important documents that had been submitted to him from his subordinates. Eventually, he had concluded everything and placed them into a cabinet for further inspection later. He just wanted to take a quick walk to stretch out his body after being strapped to his chair for the entire day.

The scenery outside the spaceship was what you’d expect, yet he never grew bored of it. Sometimes he’d stare out into the vast sea of stars and planets, distracted by the idea of just how small he and his problems were. In a way, it distracted him from the stresses of life.

Aventurine had begun to near the area where people would come in, a group of workers that had recently finished an assignment passing him. He noticed some familiar faces amidst the group and started to wonder when you’d be back to see him.

It had been 2 weeks since you left for your assignment, giving him a long kiss that left him dazed before departing. Aventurine didn’t lie when he said that he’d miss you as he whined about you leaving for 2 weeks, clinging to you when it was the morning of your departure. Yet he whined a little less when you promised to text him whenever you had a moment of free time.

Speaking of which… The last message you sent to him was a while ago, around 2 days in fact. He never heard anything from you since you bid goodnight to him which made him a little worried. But he knew more than anyone that you were a capable and dependable person, so his worries grew a little less.

…Yet he could feel a small twinge of dread in his stomach whenever he thought about the time span.

The opening of the doors leading to the docking area brought him out of his thoughts, glancing over to check what ship had come back. To his surprise, it was you..but in crutches and countless bandages as you awkwardly made your way past the door with someone assisting you.

Aventurine stared for a couple of seconds, registering your beat-up form before rushing over. “_____!”

You had strained your neck to look towards where the voice came from, seeing a distressed Aventurine catch up with you and your coworker.

“Ah.. Aventurine–,” you started, giving him an awkward smile. “--didn’t think I’d see you so soon. How has work been–”

“What happened to you??” Before you could finish your sentence, Aventurine had taken your coworker’s place, assisting you towards the infirmary. You were trying to explain what happened during your mission and brushed off the injuries, as it was never uncommon to come out with a few scratches and bruises… Aventurine disagreed in a heartbeat.

“Missions can be dangerous so you must take care of yourself.” Aventurine huffed, getting you checked into the infirmary.

After you were settled into your room with everything taken care of, Aventurine came back in to stay by your side. You could tell he was upset and concerned for your well-being, sighing as he continued to whine and lecture you about safety.

“You should’ve given me a call, you know I’d be there in a heartbeat–”

“Aventurine…”

“Who knows what could’ve happened to you if the circumstances were different–”

“Aventurine.”

“Whatever happened… Whoever did this to you I’ll–”

“Aventurine!”

He stopped pacing around the room, head snapping towards you when your voice finally got his attention. You sighed softly, looking down at your hands that had medical equipment attached to them. “I’m okay. Everything is fine–” “How can you say that?”

Aventurine gave you a frown, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of your bed. “You came out with multiple injuries, hell you could barely walk. How could you say that everything is fine?” His eyes had narrowed, staring down at the tiled floor that reflected back at him.

You stared at him for a bit, thinking of what you could say to him. After all, he was right, you came out bearing a multitude of injuries that would leave a couple of scars. But..you didn’t want him to be so worried for your sake, you couldn’t bear burdening him. The grip you had on the sheets loosened, your head leaning back onto the pillow.

“I…” A pause. “..I’m sorry, Aventurine. I didn’t want to cause more stress for you but.. I’ll be fine. I promise.” You firmly spoke, watching him look back at you before coming over to sit beside you.

“No I… You don’t need to apologize.” Aventurine sighed, moving to hold your hand. “I was just..scared. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, _____.” His gloved fingers felt warm against your bare skin, thumb gliding over your knuckles.

You hummed in response, your hand interlocking with Aventurine’s. “I know, Aven.” He gave your intertwined hands a kiss, pressing his forehead against them.

“Geez… You really don’t know how worried I was when I didn’t hear anything from you for two days.” Aventurine whined, head moving to rest on your stomach. You stroked his hair, fingers gliding through his golden strands as he sighed in bliss.

“...I missed you.” He mumbled, peering up at you like a kid through his lovely eyes. You smiled softly at him.

“I missed you too, Aven.”

“You won’t believe how work has been without you, though…” “Really? I’m all ears.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - sorry for the sudden disappearance everyone! 😀 i hope that you guys haven't missed me too much but i'll promise to post stuff soon! thank you guys for your patience and i hope you guys have a safe and wonderful break/week!

#writing➠#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #angst #fluff in the end tho #comfort #injured s/o

1K notes · View notes

ink-n-shadow · 1 year ago

Note

Alright...hear me out. Ghost with a fem!reader that wakes him up with a blow job, and he later returns the favor by waking her up by either eating her out or very gently fucking her awake. I am a FERAL for consenting somno.

this, THIS is what i needed to write about😌

WAKE-UP SEX

𝜗𝜚 the one where you wake simon up with a surprise and he returns the favor

𝜗𝜚 pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), consensual somnophilia (m! and f!receiving), oral (m!receiving, mentions of f!receiving), slight dirty talk? (basically just simon having a way with words), not proofread 𝜗𝜚 note: pt. 2 can be found here ⤳ link

you wouldn’t even know how this whole thing started with simon. you would both probably be a bit tipsy, trying to celebrate his most recent mission with a few sips (an entire bottle) of wine at home.

you would be sitting in simon’s lap, thighs hooked on either side of his hips and leaning back against the hands he was running along your spine. you weren’t even sure you heard him right at first, which made your eyebrows furrow a bit as you met his gaze.

“you want me to what?”

simon rarely got sheepish or embarrassed, but when it came to sex, he was typically a bit more reserved.

“c’mon…don’t make me say it again, sweetheart. that’s fuckin’ cruel to do to a man.” he joked quietly, the touch of his hands on your back becoming a bit firmer as he pulled you closer. “just wanted to give you somethin’ to think about, lovie. i think it’d be bloody sexy to wake up with my cock halfway down your throat."

simon never mentioned it again. but you remembered, letting the idea hang in the back of your mind for weeks. the more you thought about it, the more it excited you. so when you woke up early one morning with simon still fast asleep next you, you knew that it was the perfect time.

you slowly slipped down the bed, nestling yourself under the blankets and between simon's slightly opened thighs. you gently tugged down the hem of his briefs until you could fish his semi-hard cock from its confines, unable to hold back the soft hum that fell from your lips as you felt its heaviness in your palm.

it didn’t even matter that the blanket over your head concealed simon’s peaceful face—all you could focus on was licking a long stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue flicking against the soft pink tip and fingers squeezing along the base. the heady taste of simon bled out on your tongue, making your eyes slowly flutter closed as you closed your lips around him and gave him a gentle suck.

simon’s legs twitched at the sudden stimulation, his brain slow to catch up and stir out of his tired stupor. “mmm…what’re you—oh christ.” his hand found the back of your head beneath the blanket, his other making quick work to push the fabric away from your face and letting his eyes feast on the sight in front of him. “jesus, sweetheart. m’not—fuck, not gonna last long with your throat squeezin’ me like that.”

simon was still half-asleep, his movements slow and sluggish as he shifted further up on the pillows to get a better look at you sucking him off. one hand remained on the back of your head, not as a guide but simply to touch you, the other resting along your opened jaw and fingers brushing at the corner of your stretched lips. he was right—he didn’t last long. it took only a few more languid dips of simon’s cock into the back of your throat before he spilled his cum into your eager mouth with a soft hiss and whimper of your name.

what you didn’t expect to happen after that morning was for simon to return the favor.

you had fallen asleep on the couch one afternoon, legs splayed open and head nestled against the armrest as you slept. it was a blazing afternoon, one so hot that you were only wearing a pair of silk shorts and a tank top—all of which exposed too much and not enough all at once.

simon was walking through the door, arms loaded with his bag of gear and dirty laundry he’d collected while away at base. his eyes caught on your figure immediately, and it took everything in him not to drop the items in his grip. you looked so peaceful as you slept, but simon couldn’t care less about that.

once he had placed this things into a neat pile by the door, simon made his way over to the living room and sunk down on his knees in front of your sleeping form. he didn’t even bother pulling your shorts off of your hips, afraid the movement would stir you from sleep too quickly—so he settled for pressing heated kisses directly along your clothed core, a soft groan leaking from his lips as one arm curled around the thigh propped up against the back of the couch and tugged you closer to his waiting mouth.

a smirk flitted on simon’s lips as your sleeping body reacted perfectly to him, your legs falling open a bit more as you shifted your hips up in your sleep. he continued pressing those kisses along your covered slit until a breathy whine fell from your mouth. he peeked one eye up to notice your tired eyes fluttering open, a soft ‘what’re you doing, si?’ falling from you in a panted breath.

“remember last week? woke up cummin’ down that pretty little throat of yours.” simon mumbled into the heated skin of your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, pulling away with a lewd pop. his hand dragged up your body, palm pushing against your balmy skin from the top of your cunt until his fingers were splayed on your sternum. “just returnin’ the favor, sweetheart. relax f’me, baby—yeah, that’s it. go back to sleep and let my tongue do all the work, m’kay?”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley headcanon #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod smut #call of duty smut #ghost mw2 #iNs requests ⭒#iNs anons: ✧w✧#iNs over 1k ❂#iNs Simon “Ghost” Riley 💀#ink's personal faves ❁

4K notes · View notes

remlionheart · 4 months ago

Note

hiii !! may seem a bit basic, but chuuya picks up reader after a stressful day at work with his motorcycle fluff and smut 👾.

thank you, u're the best !!

୨ৎ❀ hey, there’s nothing wrong with simple! i appreciate you sending me a suggestion ♡ it's been awhile since we've visited my fave ill-tempered redhead anyway and he deserves all the attention ୨ৎ❀ fluff. smut. deep throating. praise. rich-boyfriend!chuuya x fem!reader. quick lil 1.9k word drabble. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ୨ৎ❀

♡ MDNI ♡

Me 'n My Girl ｡˚☽

so proud to be in your world, just me and my girl ⋆.˚

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A warm mid-evening breeze swept through your hair as you stepped out of large doors of your office building and let out a sigh. The smell of petrichor bounced off of the pavement while a light rain cascaded over downtown Yokohama.

Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been your favorite weather, but the stillness of it was just another reminder of the unrelenting storm of anxiety that’d been plaguing your mind all day.

Nothing had really happened. Work went okay. Your commute there was okay. Your coworkers were okay. Your lunch was okay. Everything was seemingly okay, but that's what made it worse. You couldn't pinpoint the source of your discomfort. Couldn't place the blame on any one single thing for making you feel so off. It was a phantom annoyance. A problem that didn't seem to exist to anyone else besides you.

"Shit." you mumbled, feeling your purse slip from your shoulder as it, along everything it was holding, fumbled out of your reach and spilled out into the middle of the sidewalk.

You were halfway down the stairs, your pumps clicking against the concrete when your hand suddenly reached for the railing. The heel of your shoe breaking clean off, almost knocking you completely off balance.

It wasn't the time to cry. You'd made it so far - managed to hold it together for your entire shift and you were finally at the finish line, but your capacity to handle any more minor inconveniences was well beyond its limit. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, unable to fight back the hot, frustrated tears that streamed down your cheeks while you took both of your shoes off and you gathered up your belongings in defeat.

Chuuya rounded the corner not a second too soon, the loud vroom of his engine coming to a gradual halt as he kicked his foot out to put the motorcycle in park before stepping off.

He smoothed down his disheveled hair, his smirk quickly fading the closer he got to you.

"Baby..." he said softly, looking at broken pair of shoes in your hand and the haphazard way your bag had been slung over your shoulder. "What happened?"

"Nothing," You lied, shaking your head. "It's fine."

He knew you too well though. Knew that if he simply nodded and waited a minute, it would pour out of you without him having to pry. He put a hand on your shoulder, letting you avoid his stare until you finally caved.

"Today was just stupid," You sulked, "Everything was horrible for no reason and then my fucking heel snapped and now," You were fighting an uphill battle against your emotions. More tears pricking at your eyes as your gaze caught his. "And now I can't even ride on the back with you because I'm barefoot and everything is ruined."

Even though he hated seeing you get this worked up, he couldn't deny that there was something so fucking cute about how pouty and helpless you became when things didn't go your way. He took pride in knowing that you needed him, that he was the one you relied on to pick up the pieces when life got too stressful.

"Stay here," he said, taking his leather jacket off and draping it around your shoulders. "I'll be right back, okay?"

You nodded at him, watching him tuck his hands into his pockets as he crossed the street. It was easy to forget who he was sometimes. How merciless he could be with other people when he was so gentle and attentive with you. He was a Port Mafia executive who doubled as a golden retriever boyfriend when no one was looking. Calloused and feared by some of the scariest people in Yokohama and yet for some reason, physically incapable of saying no to you.

You wiped your tears away watching him flick his cigarette onto the sidewalk, an unexpectedly large Chanel bag hanging from his wrist.

"C'mere," he said, taking your hand as he led you to the Ducati.

You plopped down on its leather seat with both legs dangling off to one side while he knelt down and opened the bag, sliding a gorgeous pair of black open-toed suede heels onto your feet.

"Gimme the broken ones."

You pulled them out of your purse with a small smile, letting him throw them away in a nearby trashcan before returning back to you. "Better?" he asked.

"You know there's an Adidas store right around the corner?"

He smirked, placing both hands at either side of you, his mouth grazing yours with a whisper. "My girl had a terrible day at work and you expect me to make it worse by buying her cheap shit?"

Your heart fluttered, another slight grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you breathed in the comforting smell of his cologne. "Your girl is really lucky to have you."

"Yeah, well…" he mused, "I have a feeling she'll be makin' it up to me later.”

⋆.౨ৎ˚.⟡˖ ࣪

The ride back to his house was peaceful with hardly any traffic for a Thursday night.

There was something about being on the back of his motorcycle that made you feel so indescribably close to him. From the way your body pressed against his to the way he'd tell you to hold onto him tighter. You loved the looks people would flash the two of you as you'd speed past them. The butterflies that flooded your stomach each time he'd start to go faster than he should've. Even if he had a bad habit of occasionally breaking the speed limit, you still trusted him entirely. He was well aware of the difference between having a little bit of fun and being reckless and he'd never cross that line when he was with you.

You felt infinitely better by the time you pulled into the garage, carefully letting your legs fall as he shut off the engine. Your bad day felt like a distant memory - your mind now comfortably occupied with the thousand-dollar shoes that were decorating your feet and the way his eyes lit up as he helped you down.

It was hard to process sometimes that he'd been waking up next to you almost every day for the last year and still looked at you like you had put the stars in the sky.

You grabbed his arm before he could make it inside the house, gently pushing him back onto the seat of his bike. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop you as you hovered above him and began undoing his belt.

"You always make me feel so good." You whispered, reaching up to let your lips catch his while your hands continued to unbutton his pants. "I wanna return the favor."

You could feel him growing hard as his tongue swirled against yours with fervor. A gloved hand resting on the back of your neck to pull you in closer while you reached for his zipper and freed him from the fabric that was separating the both of you.

He let out a low groan when your palm met the base of his cock, delicately wrapping your fingers around it as you started to move uppp and downnn at just the right pace, earning even prettier noises from him.

His grip tangled into your hair, moving your head to the side so that he could descend down your neck. Kissing and nipping away at your soft skin while you continued to stroke him. His movements were getting harder to control the faster you went, squeezing him so fucking perfectly that he nearly ripped the front of your shirt open.

You let out a small yelp as he roamed across your chest, lightly slipping your nipple between his teeth while his blue eyes travelled up to yours. "Get on your knees for me."

You nodded, keeping your stare locked with his. Your hand still going in the same motion as you repositioned yourself, kneeling in front of him so that your face was front and center with where he wanted you. You pulled his pants down further, your core aching as you obediently slid your tongue along his base.

"Fuck," he hissed, his mouth dropping open at how tantalizingly thorough you were, "God, that feels – hah – that feels… so.... good."

You took your time, coaxing more heady praises out of him as you made your way up his length, letting a generous amount of spit trail down his shaft while your hand held him in place. His pink tip was practically dripping with pre-cum by the time you reached it, begging to have your pretty little mouth wrapped around it.

You smiled against him, looking up at him with doe-eyes before giving in to his body's needs. "It's all mine, right?" You asked, causing him to twitch in your hand.

"All yours." He groaned, doing everything he could to stop himself from shoving your head down onto him. He wanted you so bad it hurt, but even in the midst of his clouded thinking, he was still more concerned about you. If you needed to hear him say it, then that's exactly what he'd do.

"It's all yours, baby." He exhaled. "I'm all yours… Every inch of me is all – fucking...your...s"

His words were quickly taken from him though, stolen by the way you’d flattened your tongue and pressed it firmly against his tip.

You watched his eyes roll back as his hand gripped your hair, the two of you working to find the perfect rhythm.

You loved the breathy noises he made for you. The way his hips thrusted forward while he buried himself into the warmth of your mouth. The feeling of him getting harder with each slurp and squelch that echoed across the garage as you struggled to take the whole thing.

"Keep going." He grunted, still fighting the overwhelmingly feral urge to slam into you. "Doin' so good f'me."

You went as deep as you could, easing him into the back of your throat while your tongue continued to glide across his shaft.

His movements became more frantic, his voice breaking the faster you went. "God – damn..."

You kept up the same unrelenting pace, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes locked with his again.

"Fuck," his moans turned into guttural whimpers, his body thrusting desperately in search of release. "Just like that," he choked out, "just like that, don't – fucking stop, please baby... don't stop, I'm –"

He looked lost, completely entranced by the hold you had over him as a lewd warmth coated the back of your throat. More carnal obscenities pouring from his lips as he slowly regained control over his breathing and pulled out of you.

"Next time –" he panted, helping you to your feet before leaning in to kiss you. "I'm buying you the whole fuckin' store."

⋆.౨ৎ˚.⟡˖ ࣪

#rem writes #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara bsd #chuuya smut #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs smut #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs fanart #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bsd chuuya

428 notes · View notes

fanficgirlysmhh · 21 days ago

Text

Title: At what Cost

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Warnings: fighting, swearing, emotional distress

Word count: ~3200

Summary: love isnt always easy

The silence between you and Jude is unbearable. The house in Madrid feels too big, too quiet, and far too empty, even with him in it. It’s been five years since you moved here, leaving behind everything you loved in London. Five years of loving him fiercely, but also five years of missing yourself.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, your laptop closed, untouched for the day. You’d tried to distract yourself with work, studying, or anything else, but nothing could shake the storm brewing inside you.

Jude walks in, his bag slung over his shoulder, fresh from training. His presence fills the room, but the emptiness in your chest remains.

“Hey,” he says, offering you a small smile as he sets his bag down. “Long day. You okay?”

You look up at him, your emotions barely held together. “Do you ever think about what I gave up to be here?”

The question hangs in the air. Jude freezes, caught off guard. “What?”

“I left my job, my friends, my family… my life. For you,” you say, your voice trembling. “And now I’m here, in Madrid, in this huge house, feeling like I don’t belong. Feeling like I’ve lost myself.”

Jude steps closer, his expression tightening. “What are you talking about? You’ve always known this is my career, my dream.”

“I know!” you cry, your voice cracking. “And I’ve supported you every step of the way, haven’t I? But what about me, Jude? What about my dreams? My life? I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Jude’s face hardens, his frustration evident. “You act like I’m the villain here. You knew what you were signing up for when you moved here. You knew football was my life.”

“And you’re mine!” you yell, tears spilling over now. “But it feels like I’m not even a part of yours anymore. Do you know how lonely I’ve been? How overwhelming it is to watch you live this big, glamorous life while I’m here, drowning?”

Jude runs a hand through his hair, his voice rising to match yours. “I’m doing this for us! Everything I do, it’s to build a life for us! And you don’t even try to make this work. You could get a job, make friends, do something other than sit here waiting for me!”

The words cut deep. You stare at him, hurt and disbelief swirling in your chest. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Just sitting around, waiting for you?”

“Well, isn’t it?” he snaps, but there’s regret in his eyes the moment the words leave his mouth.

You take a shaky breath, the tears now falling freely. “I don’t go out because I hate the spotlight. I hate the cameras, the questions, the way people look at me like I’m just your arm candy. And then there are the photos—photos of you with other women, Jude. Always other women.”

“They mean nothing,” he says firmly, his voice softening. “They’re just photos, and you know that.”

“But they mean something to me!” you shout, the pain in your voice raw. “Because I’m the one here, fighting to keep this together, while you’re out there living a life that feels like it doesn’t include me anymore. I moved my entire life for you, Jude, and I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Fuck”

—-

The fight leaves both of you drained. You stand there in the kitchen, the tension so thick you can barely breathe. Jude stares at you, his chest rising and falling as he processes everything you’ve just said.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shake your head, brushing past him. “I don’t want to hear anything right now.”

You leave the room and retreat upstairs, the weight of the argument pressing down on you. You cry yourself to sleep that night, unsure of what the morning will bring.

—-

When you wake up, your eyes are swollen from crying, your chest still heavy with emotion. You grab your phone, intending to scroll mindlessly in an attempt to numb the pain. But the first thing you see stops you in your tracks.

It’s an Instagram post. Jude’s Instagram post.

There’s a carousel of photos—one of you and him in London when you first started dating, one of you laughing on the couch in your Madrid home, one of you kissing his cheek after a match. The caption reads:

“Five years ago, I met the love of my life. She moved across countries for me, gave up everything to be by my side, and never stopped believing in me, even when I didn’t make it easy.

She hates the spotlight, so you won’t see her at every event. But she’s the reason I get up every morning and give everything I have. Because without her, none of this would mean anything.

I love you. More than football, more than anything. I don’t say it enough, but I couldn’t bear a life without you. Thank you for staying, even when it’s hard. I promise I’ll do better.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you scroll through the comments—fans and teammates alike praising the post, sending love and support. For the first time, it feels like the world knows who you really are, not just Jude Billingham’s girlfriend, but his partner, his anchor.

You set the phone down and head downstairs, your heart pounding.

Jude is sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hands. He looks up when he hears you, his expression uncertain.

“I saw your post,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.

He stands, setting the coffee aside. “I meant every word.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He holds you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “And I’m so sorry. For everything. I want to fix this—I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands resting on his chest. “I don’t want you to give up your dream, Jude. I just need to feel like I have a life too. Like I’m not losing myself for us.”

“Then let’s figure it out,” he says, his hands cupping your face. “You can split your time between London and Madrid. Take your old job back if you want. And when football’s done, we’ll move back to London for good. That’s always been the plan, hasn’t it?”

You nod, tears spilling over again. “I can wait for that. As long as we’re in this together.”

You stay there in his arms, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.

For now, it’s enough.

#jude bellingham #jude x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #fanfic #football #real madrid #bellingham x reader #bellingham latest #jude bellingham smut

192 notes · View notes

dirtyvulture · 1 year ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by @amanda13parker: GP!Nat who has blanket consent from fem!R to use her whenever and Nat takes full advantage of it. Cooking? Not anymore she's not. Bent over the counter and stuffed. Watching a movie? Nope. Riding Nat and bouncing on her ... thing... Sleeping? Woke up to being bred. And R is loving every second of it while being praised and a bit degraded, being called by Nat her good girl and her breeding slut since she enjoys it so much.

AN: Enjoy, friend! And everyone should go check out your artwork. 👀 This is basically just porn with no plot, so keep scrolling if you're looking for something with substance. 😂

*Nat has a penis.

You hear the front door slam open and Natasha trudge inside, dropping her heavy work bag to the floor.

"I'm in the kitchen!" you call out, although you know she can guess where you are based on the smell of your cooking. You're almost done now, the stew aromatic and bubbling in the pot, and you're taking the freshly baked bread out of the oven when Natasha walks in.

Just as you set the hot pan on the counter, you feel Natasha's arms coil around your waist, her front pressing against your back, her weight heavy and warm against you.

"That smells so good, baby," she whispers into your ear and your heart rate quickens when you feel her bulge press against your butt.

"Are you hungry?" you ask.

"For you," she responds, and before you can protest, Natasha has you turned around, facing the counter. Your shorts are on the floor as she wrestles out of her pants, her strong hands lifting your hips up to angle yourself back.

"Oh Nat," you moan as her thick cock slides through your center. You feel yourself dripping onto her in record time and you're glad she can't see how red you are in the face at how quickly she turns you on. Her fingers part your folds and rub your clit roughly, causing you to keen louder and thrust back, the emptiness in your core begging to be filled by her.

Natasha throbs at the noises you make, her breathing picking up as she prepares you for her. She slaps her cock against your butt before sliding in, grunting as you tighten and convulse around her.

"Fuck babe, your'e so big," you pant, pushing back to take her entire length. Natasha slams her hips forward, almost sending you crashing into the counter, setting a hard and face pace you can barely keep up with.

Good thing the bread is already out of the oven, because you have no chance of going anywhere now.

Natasha's grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place as she slams into you over and over, the tip of her cock brushing the sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust. You're almost standing on your tiptoes as you try to angle yourself to fit her better, moaning in ecstasy at the thought of her using you like a personal Fleshlight.

"Right there, Nat. Right there. Please don't stop," you beg, holding onto the edge of the counter so tightly if it weren't made of granite a piece would have snapped off.

"Look at you taking me so well. My good girl," Natasha grunts, losing some of her rhythm as she nears her release. The slick noises of sex fill the kitchen, and with one final thrust you come undone, spilling all over her cock.

***********************************************************************

Movie nights don't always go as planned for the two of you either. More than half the time they end up with both of you on top of each other, Natasha's cock somehow finding its way inside of you every time. But you don't mind. You love being bred by your girlfriend and even if your favorite movie of all time was playing, you'd gladly let yourself be taken any way Natasha wants.

And if being dragged onto Natasha's lap halfway through a movie and made to ride her cock until your legs were shaking and you were seeing stars wasn't enough, Natasha has the audacity to wake you up in the middle of the night, already with her cock between your legs, hard and ready for another round.

Both of you are lying on your sides, and you lift your leg higher to give her easier access to sink into you to the hilt. Your brain is a scrambled mess from being woken up so suddenly and fucked so frequently, but you don't mind at all. You love being used by Natasha and you love making her feel good.

The bed rocks as Natasha thrusts into you, holding onto your leg to keep them separated.

"You like being woken up just to be bred like the slut you are?" she grunts into your ear.

"Yes, yes!" you respond, reaching back to tangle your hand in her hair, dragging her head down into the crook of your neck.

"Who's slut are you?" Natasha asks, her thrusts quickening. She will never get over how well you take her, like your pussy was meant for her cock and her cock only.

"Yours!" you pant, slick running down the inside of your thigh. You aren't even sure if you've cum already, but Natasha gives no signs of slowing down as she plows into you. She gropes onto your breasts, biting bruises onto your neck and shoulders, handling you roughly as she searches for her release. And you're happy to lie there and be used, your body in a state of euphoria as Natasha finally cums into you, the hot pulses of her seed triggering yet another orgasm from you, and you go limp in her arms.

"That's my good girl," Natasha murmurs into your sweaty neck. "You'll look so beautiful carrying my child."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, comment, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

1K notes · View notes

roseyodditea · 5 days ago

Text

You're Back - Wriothesley x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1k words. Wriothesley missed you. Very soft Wriothesley! Warnings -> None A/N -> My husband has been let out of jail!!! Life has meaning again!

Oh you’d never thought you’d miss this place, but for some reason the stale air filling your lungs filled you with a sense of comfort you had longed for this past month. A past month spent in Sumeru, talking to some of the most intelligent scholars in Teyvat, learning of ways you could improve the efficiency of the production zone of the Fortress of Meropide. You counted six things on the way back to your private room that needed to be fixed. Apparently this rust bucket falls apart while it’s head engineer is gone. You’d have to lecture your mechanics tomorrow.

You set down your backpack, opening your notebook and watching the notes and sketches from your trip spill out onto your desk. Your drive to create and repair had been repaired by your month long research trip, and it was good to be back. But all of this was an issue for tomorrow. Your travels were long and you were tired. You sink into the comfortable chair by the radiator, closing your eyes as the warm heat seeps into your body. Your eyes were closed when the sound of a knock on your door roused you from your relaxed state.

“The Duke would like to see you!” Sigewinee’s small voice greets you. “Tell him I’m not back yet!” You shout back through the door.

“The guards already reported to him, he knows your back.” SIgewinne started. “I’d like to see you for your checkup before you begin work tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get to it, Winne…” You sigh as you open the door, starting to walk alongside the melusine. “Did he say what he wanted?” Sigewinne shook her head. “I imagine he wants to ask about your trip. Although I will warn you, he’s been rather moody this month.” “When is he not moody?” You scoff and wave as you turn down a different corridor from her.

You walk across the path to the giant doors, swinging them open and walking up the staircase. “Hey, Boss.”

Wriothesley looks up from the prisoner files he was flipping through, heavy bags under his eyes. “Welcome back.” His voice held an unmistakable warmness.

“Missed me?” You start the kettle in the corner of his office, knowing you’d be staying for tea. You flip through the box of tea varieties, picking something with no caffeine, hoping to get to sleep at a reasonable time. You flip through the sweeteners, still waiting for a response from the man, when instead you feel arms wrap around your waist, a chin resting on the top of your head. “Oh you really missed me.” “I did.” He confesses like it sat uncomfortably on his chest.

“Are you… dying?” You try to look up, but the weight of his head makes it uncomfortable.

“Not that I’m aware of. Just… been a while since I’ve seen you. I’ve missed your company.” He stays still, unsure of what to do now that he has you. He only loosens his grip so you can turn around and return the hug, more used to affection than he is.

“I’ve missed you too, Wriothesley.” Your voice was soft, unable to hide back the affection. “Give me three days. You’ll want to kill me again in no time.” His shoulders shake with a chuckle as he moves his head to your shoulder. “You think it’ll take three whole days?”

“You’re right. Give me until the end of tomorrow.” You make no move to let go of him until the kettle finishes, fixing up two cups of tea and moving to his desk.

“I’m done with work tonight.” Wriothesley’s voice was gentle as he led you to the couch in his office, both of you relaxing against the cushions. “Glad to be back?”

You thought about it for a moment. You were currently in an underwater fortress, miles from the Court of Fontaine, outside contact to the world limited, imported food limited, and the entire fortress had this dank, slightly rusty smell. Then you looked to the man sitting next to you, the man who had picked up the soul of the fortress in his years of living down here, the man that carried the terrifying reputation of the fortress on his back. A smile cracked across your face and you let your head fall to his shoulder. “Yeah… I am.” He awkwardly runs his finger over the rim of his cup of tea, gently moving his arm to drape across your shoulders. “I’m glad you’re back too.”

**********

Your tea sat on the table, having gone cold hours ago. The conversation had stretched out way longer than either of you had intended, the fortress now quiet in the late night. Wriothesley finally let out a breath, having been holding uncomfortably still for the past thirty minutes you had been asleep. He needed to go to bed himself, unable to sit with you any longer. He let out a sigh before shifting you as a test, and once he realized you were fast asleep he scooped you up in his arms, walking silently through the quiet fortress.

You only stirred awake when he set you down on the bed, the feeling of your blanket being draped across your shoulders filling you with comfort. He noticed you were awake and he smiled gently, making sure you were comfortable.

“Goodnight, (y/n).” “What, no forehead kiss?” You chuckle as he rolls his eyes.

“You’re a grown ass adult.” “A grown ass adult you just tucked in without a forehead kiss goodnight.” He sighs and leans down, his chapped lips pressing against your forehead. The second he tried to pull away you cup his cheek, sitting up a bit to meet his lips halfway in a quick kiss that said more than words ever could.

“Goodnight, Wriothesley.”

I have his C3 right now and 430 something wishes. I WILL get his C6. He WILL be my first limited C6

#oneshot #genshin x reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley

128 notes · View notes

secretamongthestars · 4 months ago

Text

Third Times the Charm [ i ]

You and Spencer run into each other at a coffee shop.

WARNINGS: show typical violence

Spencer Reid x Teacher!Reader | meet-cute | 2.6k

A/N: hello!!! first post ever on here! hope you guys enjoy it! the rest of this should come out by the end of the week.

masterlist

The bright sun softly shone through the multicolored foliage. As the early autumn breeze whisked by, the fallen leaves twirled over the road as a car whizzed by. The temperature was finally cool enough for you to pull out your collection of sweaters, and you smiled as you made your way to the coffee shop.

While you were new to the city, the workers there had already begun to memorize your order: English breakfast tea with a splash of milk. You moved here around a month ago, still during the summer.

In the past few weeks, you had plenty of time to spruce up your new apartment, with little knickknacks throughout the rooms, a reflection of your personality, as opposed to the plain, empty box you had first moved into. Not only did you have enough time to prepare your classroom, but also to explore and familiarize yourself with the city. That was the plus side of being a teacher: your summers were almost entirely free.

Upon opening the door to the store, the scent of coffee and an array of syrupy flavorings greeted you. After placing your order, you began to make your way to the front of the store, hoping to grab a seat while you waited. If you didn’t have to arrive at school in approximately thirty minutes, you would grab a seat right by the window (where you likely would’ve taken a long nap).

While daydreaming about the comfy window seat, you were too busy to notice the large frame walking right towards you.

By the time your head turned back to the direction of the counter, you had walked right into the man, who coincidentally seemed just as distracted as you were.

As you crashed into each other, both of your bags fell in the collision, spilling their contents all over the coffee shop floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologized as the two of you rushed to pick up the mess on the ground. The man in front of you tucked his hair behind his ear as you both stood up, realizing he was quite tall. He was the most attractive man you had seen since arriving in the city.

He had a soft smile on his face as he replied, “No, no, I should’ve been paying attention. I was too focused on my phone.”

“Work?”

“Yeah,” he let out a small laugh. Eyeing the lanyard sticking out of your bag, he asked, “You teach?”

“Yeah, I started at a new high school about a month ago,” You told him.

“High school? How’s that? Most people are trying to get out of there. I know I was,” he told you, making you laugh.

“Honestly, I couldn’t wait to graduate high school, but after working with kids in the summers between and after college, I realized I loved working with them. Plus, that was the most appealing job to me as a Sociology major; the legal field wasn’t exactly my thing,” you revealed to him.

“You have a B.A. in Sociology? So do I.”

“Huh, that’s neat.”

“Yeah, I also have Ph. Ds in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering and a B.A. in psychology,” he rattled off his degrees as if they were items on a grocery store list. You stared at him in shock.

“Really?” He nodded in reply. “How old are you? Is that even possible?”

He opened his mouth to say something else as a barista called a name and an order from behind the counter, the first half of which you didn't quite catch: “Large black coffee, no cream or sugar!”

“Sorry, that’s me,” he walked over to grab his steaming drink, making his way over to the counter perpendicular to the order line, which had an array of napkins, utensils, and sugar packets. Your order was called shortly after, and you went over to the counter. You watched as Spencer poured packet after packet of sugar into his drink. It wasn’t until probably the sixth one that he finally stopped reaching for the dwindling bowl of sugar packets.

Walking over to him with your drink in hand, you joked, “Sure you put enough sugar in there?”

He let out a laugh as he put the lid back onto the cup.

“Interestingly, recent research suggests that the addition of sugar in coffee not only masks the bitterness of the drink but actually changes the molecular structure of the coffee,” he stated proudly.

“I’m sure enough sugar to make a small child fall ill wasn’t what those researchers had in mind,” you jested.

A loud ringtone interrupted your conversation as Spencer moved to answer the phone call.

“Hey, Garcia,” he paused. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“I, uh, I have to go, but it was nice meeting you,” he said, turning back to you. He began making his way towards the coffee shop's door. Just before he exited, he turned back to you to say, “Sorry again for running into you!”

You stared as he jogged down the street, wondering if what just happened was real.

౨ৎ

Slumping in your chair, you finally let out a sigh of relief. While you loved your job and the kids were great, some days it felt like your first day on the job all over again. As you sat in silence, taking in the morning's events, your stomach gurgled, prompting you to reach for your bag. Instead of rifling through it, you decided emptying the contents on your otherwise neat desk would be easier.

Once you found your lunch, you set it aside and put the items strewn across your desk back into your bag. However, as you moved to put your book into the bag, you realized that it was unfamiliar to you. Apparently, an unintended book exchange had occurred.

The cover of The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury stared back at you from your desk.

You realized you had no way of contacting him, as you two had barely swapped names, never mind phone numbers. You thought about returning to the coffee shop: maybe he had also realized the mistake and would return there. Regardless, you weren’t complaining about another excuse to return to the store to grab your go-to drink (and maybe a pastry, too, this time).

You reached for an extra copy of Cat's Cradle on the shelf behind you. Today you would just have to do without your notes and annotations.

౨ৎ

The B.A.U. had just wrapped up their most recent case in Santa Monica, California. After the discovery of three indistinguishably burnt bodies by the pier, the local police department called them in. It turned out that an ex-fireman was their unsub, believing that the homeless population of Santa Monica was plagued and had to be exterminated—the trigger for this being his tuberculosis diagnosis following his rescue of several homeless people from a fire. The team was finally able to relax after the case had closed.

Everyone was getting some much-needed rest while the jet was returning to Quantico. Hotch and Rossi were sitting towards the front of the plane, Emily was asleep, J.J. was grabbing a hot cup of coffee, and Morgan and Reid were seated across each other towards the back of the jet. Reid reached for his copy of The Illustrated Man but pulled out a copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle instead. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s wrong? Are the scientific inaccuracies of ice-nine too hard to ignore?” Morgan jested.

“No- well, while ice-nine isn’t real, there’s a similar phenomenon that occurs on the ocean floor; it’s called the ‘Icicle of Death’; when polar sea ice forms, the separated brine sinks and freezes the water around it. Once it reaches the ocean floor, it spreads and forms an ice sheet, freezing and killing any organism that doesn’t evade its path. It’s quite neat,” Spencer prattled on as Morgan stared back at him.

“Reid- I mean, why did you look at the book like you didn’t bring it with you,” Morgan explained.

“Because I didn’t.” Morgan was now confused as well.

“What do you mean you didn’t? Who’s book is it then?” Morgan questioned him.

“I don’t know; I can’t find my copy of the Illustrated Man either; it’s weird I put it in here the morning we left and then-” Reid cut himself off, realizing when the mix-up must’ve occurred.

His cheeks turned a rosy pink as he remembered what had happened before work that day. After the initial embarrassment of the situation subsided, he finally got a good look at your face and realized how absolutely beautiful you were.

You wore a plum-colored sweater that complemented the large burgundy frames of your glasses, which now sat slightly farther down your nose as you continued to pick up the items on the coffee shop floor. You brushed the baby hairs on your forehead aside as you stood, now looking back at Spencer. The rays of sun coming through the window behind you made it appear as if you were glowing.

“Then what…?” Morgan snapped him out of his memory.

“It was nothing. I bumped into someone Monday morning, and we dropped our stuff. I guess we mixed up our books in the rush to get our stuff back in our bags,” Spencer tried to backtrack, not wanting to reveal who he had bumped into.

“Was this ‘someone’ in high school?” Morgan asked, trying to pry more information from Spencer.

All he got back was a confused, “What?”

“The last time I remember seeing Kurt Vonnegut was when people had to read it in High School. Plus, the back of that book has a High School's stamp on it,” Morgan added. Reid looked about, ready to jump off the jet in mid-air. “So spill. Is she a librarian or something?”

“Fine- we walked into each other at the coffee shop that Garcia goes to sometimes,” Spencer began to reveal. “We both dropped our stuff on the ground, and I saw her teacher's I.D. lanyard and asked about it. That’s all.”

“Doesn’t seem like that’s all,” Morgan pressed. “You get her number or anything?”

“What?” Reid’s face dropped.

“Well, clearly you were into her, even if you don’t want anyone to think that, so did you get her number or anything?”

“No… I didn’t think about that. Plus Garcia called us in for this case as we were talking,” Spencer sounded dejected. He realized he didn’t even know your name, never mind your phone number.

“Well, what was her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You didn’t even ask her for her name?”

“I was a little preoccupied, okay!” Spencer was about to switch seats on the jet. “Besides, she probably felt bad for bumping into each other.”

“Okay, whatever you say, pretty boy, but if I hear about a new girlfriend, I want five dollars,” Morgan joked.

“Whatever,” Spencer huffed, opting to open the book instead of continuing to talk to Morgan. He initially thought this was just another standard high school copy of the book, but he quickly realized you had several annotations throughout the book. Seeing as the novel was only around 300 pages long, he decided to read it and your annotations in the remaining length of the flight. As for getting the book back to you, he would just have to return to the coffee shop in hopes of running into you again (hopefully figuratively this time).

౨ৎ

The end of the work week had finally arrived, and you couldn’t be more elated. However, the weather did not seem to reflect this sentiment.

The past few days consisted of perfect fall weather: mild temperatures, partly sunny skies, and a cool breeze here and there. Yet, the weather took a drastic turn upon the arrival of the much-anticipated end of the week. The sky appeared to be dark gray and pouring frigid rain. It was only September, yet the temperature had plummeted to 58 degrees.

When you finally got into the cozy coffee shop and placed your order, you were relieved and finally given a break from the dreary weather. As you waited for your drink, you saw a familiar face dumping what appeared to be cupfuls of sugar into his coffee. The past few mornings, you had returned to the coffee shop each morning, book in hand, but Spencer was nowhere to be found.

Bringing your large cup of tea over to the counter, you began to speak. “You know, there has to be research telling you how bad that is.”

He turned towards you. “Yes, unfortunately, then it would be entirely ingestible.”

“Have you ever tried adding milk? Or drinking tea?”

He seemed perplexed as if he had not considered those options before.

“Anyways, where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you the past few days,” you told him, adding a spoonful of honey to your tea.

“Yeah, sorry, I was away for work,” he told you. He seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Well, I have something to give you,” he looked confused as you reached into your bag, pulling out his copy of The Illustrated Man from the depths of your bag. “Apparently, we swapped books the other day.”

“Oh, yeah! I left your copy of Cat’s Cradle back in my apartment, but I meant to return it to you,” he told you. “I mean, if you want, you can keep my book in the meantime if you haven’t read it- if you want to. It’s quite an interesting read: it’s about a man covered in tattoos drawn by a woman from the future, and at night, the tattoos come to life and tell a story. It’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve read many of his other stories like Fahrenheit 451, The Veldt, and The Pedestrian, but I haven’t gotten around to that one,” you told him, taking the book back and placing it into your bag. “Thanks.”

Glancing at your watch, you realized you had to be on your way lest you wanted to be late for homeroom. Lord knows the chaos that would happen if you were even a minute. Half your class would probably be gone.

“Hey, I gotta go, but let me give you my phone number so we can figure out when to return each other's books,” you told him. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to stay in touch with him. After all, this man was so handsome you wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming. However, he just stared at you. You weren’t sure if you said something wrong, so you began to backtrack, “Only if you want to, I mean. We don’t have to if that’s weird or anything, sorry-”

“No, no, that would be great,” You were glad he cut your ramble short. He pulled out his phone, and you quickly typed in your name and contact information.

“It was nice running into you again,” you told him, turning around to leave the coffee shop. Realizing you never asked for his name, you swiveled to face him again. “Wait, I still don’t know your name. It’s only fair that you tell me now that you know my name and my phone number.”

“It’s Spencer,” he told you, smiling.

“Spencer,” you tested it out. “Well, Spencer, I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, you were already out the door and heading down the street, leaving a smiling Spencer behind.

[part ii coming soon!]

#criminal minds #spencer reid #teacher!reader #bau #thirdtimesthecharm #meet cute #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #secretamongthestars

154 notes · View notes

satorusugurugurl · 9 months ago

Text

L.O.M.L

Summary: On Late August day, you and Nanami go out to dinner, where you reveal a wonderful surprise.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,682

Warning: angst, character death, mentions of blood, pregnancy complications, Shibuya incident, angst

A/N: I am so sorry. 🥲

The normal clanking of knives against plates, the murmur of conversation around you was nearly silent as you waited. With a glance around the bakery you and Nanami often visited, you spot your fiance walking in. He was sporting his blue down top, suit jacket resting over his arm, and tie off. His typical ‘off the clock' aesthetic. Honey-brown eyes glanced through the bakery before landing on you. His smile was soft as he hurried forward, avoiding other customers before bending over and kissing your lips.

“Hello love, don't you look stunning? You're practically glowing.”

“I'm just happy to see you!” Nanami chuckled, nodding as he slid into the booth across from you. “I hope you don't mind, but I ordered a drink for you already.”

“That’s perfectly fine, you know what I like.” Nanami yawned into the back of his hand. “I was thinking that perhaps we can go for dessert after this, maybe to that ice cream parlor you like.”

“Mhmm, I think that sounds like a great idea!”

“One iced green tea.” The young waitress sat the drink down before him, giving you a wink before she walked away.

Nanami looked up from the menu to thank the waitress for bringing his drink. Something caught his eye just as he turned his head to look at her. Sitting in front of him was a glass of iced green tea. It wasn’t in a glass but a baby bottle: bright blue lid, yellow teat, and measuring lines. Your fiance blankly stared at the baby bottle, looking at it as if it were a puzzle that could not be solved. The confusion in his eyes settled into a look of annoyance.

Nanami stood up, his eyes searching the restaurant for someone. “Kento?” You asked, confusion thick in your voice. “Babe, what in the world are you doing?” With an exasperated sigh, Nanami turned to look back down at you.

“I think a certain blindfolded freak followed us here.” The veins in his neck bulged in frustration over the prospect of Gojo being there.”I had a little mishap at work today. I didn’t realize the lid to my coffee wasn't secure enough. so when I tried to take a drink, it spilled down the front of my jacket.” Trying to imagine your ordinarily prim and proper fiancé with a coffee stain down his coat was a sight you were slightly intrigued to see. “Gojo thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world. He insisted that he invest in hundreds of sippy cups until I learned how to drink properly. It's a thing to tease me at work but another to do after hours. So, if you excuse me, I need to try to find a way to get through his infinity.”

Before Nanami could begin his manhunt, you gently grabbed his wrist, ceasing his momentum. “It wasn't Gojo.” You softly said, winning a puzzled look from Kento.

“If it wasn’t Gojo, then who was it?”

Your heart felt like it would explode from how fast it was beating against your rib cage. He needed to know. Nanami watched as you reached into your bag with trembling fingers, grabbing a rectangle box and sliding it in front of him. Your throat felt so incredibly dry that you took a sip of water to ease the burning sensation as Nanami picked up the box.

The whole world seemed to freeze when Nanami opened the box lid. Inside it, a pregnancy test with the lid secure. Nanami’s eyes trail to a blue positive sign in the center of the test. His eyes lingered on that blue plus sign; it seemed like an eternity before his honey-brown orbs slowly traveled to your face. He bore an unreadable expression; you weren’t sure if that was better than him freaking out or ten times worse.

“I-I—well, I was feeling a bit nauseated this morning, and I noticed I hadn’t started my period yet.” The bustling sounds of the busy bakery turned into a muffled noise as you stared directly at the table's surface. “So I figured I should check when you left for work this morning. I thought maybe it was just a stomach bug, something I would be over in twenty-four hours; I hadn’t expected it to be positive.”

“Love—”

“I know this isn’t part of the plan. We wanted to get married first and save up some money.” Thundering heartbeats pounded inside your eardrums, muting the outside world around you. “I’m sorry; I’m the one who suggested that we mess around when we were both drunk last month.”

“Love—”

“‘M’ so sorry. I know you would prefer for things to go differently and more smoothly. I ruined that for us.”

Thoughts of that drunken passion came flooding back to you. You both had one too many drinks at a work function. There had been a lot of kissing, necking, and fondling on the elevator ride back up to your hotel room. One thing led to another, and one condom-less sex session later, you found yourself pregnant with his baby. Something neither of you intended to happen until maybe five years down the road, maybe less if things were good. You getting knocked up six months before your wedding was not in the plans.

A large hand cupped your cheek before you could start spiraling into intrusive thoughts. Lips so soft and warm pressed against yours in a gentle kiss. A strangled gasp rose in your throat as Nanami turned his head, deepening the kiss. Both of his hands cupped each side of your face. He was so gentle and kind, putting all of his love into that single kiss.

Nanami finally managed to pull himself away from you, his fingers gently caressing your face before he sat back down in front of you. His hands cradled the box that you had given him. Looking into his eyes, there was no trace of anger or frustration. There was nothing but hope and love in his iris’.

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. you’re kind, compassionate, and so undesribilingly beautiful.” A wet tear hit the surface of the table. “You’re giving me a life I never knew I wanted until I met you. Any other man would’ve been content just that. But you're giving me something I can’t even describe.” he placed the lid back onto the box. “You’ve given me hope, unconditional love, and a future.”

“Kento—”

“Don't you dare apologize for that.” he gently scolded, placing the back so gently to the side as if it would shatter. “It may not have been in our plans, but who cares?” Large, calloused fingers gently gripped yours, holding them tight. “We’re going to be just fine, you, me, and our little one.”

Happy tears streamed down your cheeks as Nanami ran his thumb over. “You're right!” you brought his hands to your lips, peppering kisses over his larger hands. “Everything is going to be perfect.” The joy etched over Nanami’s face had your heart racing with pure excitement instead of the dread it had felt ever since you saw that positive sign.

Everything would work out as long as your fiancé was by your side. Your child may not have been planned, but that didn’t mean it would be loved any less. Things would be okay; they would be even better, not that you were expecting a little one soon.

For the first month, things were perfect aside from the morning sickness and the fatigue. You’ve also had a never-ending craving for frozen yogurt and sauerkraut. Not together, of course; your cravings hadn’t gotten that weird yet. Nanami was so perfect. He held your hair back while you vomited in the early hours of the morning, he’d bring you home frozen yogurt when you didn’t even have to ask, and he would massage your back ever so gently before his hands gently pulled out your lower abdomen.

The hands gently stroked your lower abdomen. “My sweet little bean.” he would whisper in your ear, his eyes glancing down at his hand. “I can't wait to meet you. I bet you’ll look just like your mommy.” The tenderness of his tone had you cuddling into him and sighing contently as his palms rested against you.

Moments like that were perfect.

But things took a turn so quickly it could give whiplash. It started as a typical day, nothing out of the ordinary until you were out grabbing some groceries. There was a sharp, stinging pain in your lower back. You thought nothing more of it than just a strained muscle. But when you walked into the restroom to use it, pulling your underwear down to your knees, you saw a stain of red.

Panic settled in as you began to wonder what was going on. You had done everything right. You listened to your doctors, read all the baby books, and even took your vitamins like you were supposed to. So why, why was this happening?

You immediately called Nanami. He stopped what he was doing, rushing to meet you at the doctor's office. Much like when you first told him that you were pregnant, your heart was racing against your rib cage like a hammer to a nail. Only this time, it wasn’t from excitement; it was from terror.

The dread and the panic settled in the pit of your stomach. Noticing your anxiety, Nanami gently took your hand, letting you know he was here for you no matter what. And while you knew he was trying to be kind to let you know that he was here to hold the burden of the unknown with you, that only seemed to worsen things. If something were wrong, you would not be able to live with the guilt; your fiancé had been so excited, you were excited.

Your stomach twisted as the doctor came in. “Well, let’s look and see what’s going on with your baby.” You laid back against the medical exam table. You were shuddering as he poured the cool jelly against your lower abdomen before performing an ultrasound. You knew something was wrong. Not once did the doctor turn towards you. Instead, the screen was securely in front of his face, an unable expression plaster against it. That expression must’ve taken years of practice to master. An expression that screamed he knew something was wrong, but he didn’t want to alarm his patients.

“Is everything okay with our little bean?” Nanami tentatively asked, sensing the same thing you had.

“I’m not seeing anything wrong, per se. I think it’s just a little too early for us to see your little bean right now.”

“I'm sorry, but what?” you sat up on your elbows as a doctor began wiping off the jelly. “What do you mean you can’t see them? Isn’t that a bad thing?”

The doctor and your fiancé exchange the books with one another. “Not necessarily. I checked both your fallopian tubes, and I didn’t see that it’s an ectopic pregnancy, so that’s good. It could be that your little bean is too small for us to see on the monitor.”

“Or there’s no bean at all. It’s possible that it didn’t stick right; it wasn't viable?”

“Love—” your fiancé looked at you as if you had broken his heart with your words.

“Yes, that is a possibility, too.” You felt like the whole world was about to crash down on you. Nanami, tighten this hand on yours before glancing at the doctor.

“But there’s still a chance, right?”

“Of course, like I said, it might be too early. Before you leave, I want to have some blood work drawn. That way, we know for sure.”

Several tubes of blood later and a very silent car ride home, you and Nanami walked into the apartment. You headed straight for the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans to prepare dinner, but your attempts were throttled. Nanami snatched the pots and pans away from you. Whirling around, you reached for the pans.

“Give me that back.” Your tone is sharp and short as you yank a pan back.

“Were you not listening to what the doctor told you when we left? You’re supposed to be resting in bed.”

“Why? I'm bleeding; that's never a good sign.”

Nanami pulled the pan out of your hand as you reached for it again. “You're spotting there's a difference.” A soured scoff left your mouth. “Don’t act like it's over; our little bean is strong.” he placed the pans down, hands reaching for your lower stomach, but before they could touch you, you slapped them away.

“Kento! Stop it! Please!” Tears ran down your cheeks as you choked on a sob. “Please! All day, I've been having this feeling of dread! It didn't stick!”

The tension flooded the room, which was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. You stared down at the floor, your own hands cradling your stomach while he hovered just in front of you. Kento wanted to touch you, but you had made it clear by smacking his hands away that you didn’t want that.

But seeing you so visibly upset had Kento fighting his instincts. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in for a hug. Smelling his cologne and feeling the warmth of his body against yours was the final straw—the reins on the emotions you have held back slipped from your grasp. You shoved your face into his chest; soft sobs rocked through you. While you were having a breakdown, Kento gently rubbed his hands up and down your back.

“It’s going to be okay.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips against your head. “Our little bean is going to be.”

Pulling back with tear-stained cheeks, you hiccuped, taking a deep breath. “A-And what if it’s not?!” Nanami’s smile was across between sorrow and happiness.

“If that does happen, which I doubt it is, we’ll try again.”

“We will—?”

“Of course, we will.” His lips pressed against your head, pulling back to glance down at your sobbing figure. “I love you. I want to raise a family with you. We’ll get there eventually, I promise.”

His words held a sure hope in them. One that made you want to believe that he was right everything would work out for the best. But you also didn’t want to get your hopes up. For now, you will continue to do things as you were. Watching what you were eating and taking your prenatal vitamins, but not losing yourself in the serotonin that came with early pregnancy.

That could change in an instant.

“I love you too.” You whispered gently, grabbing his hands and placing them on your stomach. Nanami’s shoulders relaxed as he ran his hands over you with gentle, loving strokes.

“I love you both.” Without another word, Nanami ushered you to the bedroom, where he promptly tucked you into bed. “I’ll make us something to eat. You need to rest.”

While you wanted to help him, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t let you help. So you’ve fluffed your pillows and laid back against the headboard in defeat. You stayed like that for five minutes before you and Nanami’s phones went off.

Glancing at your screen, you stared at a summons text from Jujutsu High. You were being summoned to go to Shibuya to handle an incident. Just as you finished reading your message, Nanami walked into the bedroom. His eyes were glued to the screen before they quickly darted in your direction, taking note of your hand, which was still in your hand.

“Where did they summon you to?” He said tentatively.

“Shibuya, what about you?”

Nanami huffed out a sigh, running his hand against the back of his neck. “Shibuya.” His confirmation had you sitting up straight. “I’m going to call Yaga and let him know you won’t be joining me.” his words were sharp and cold, like an icepick to your heart.

“I can help; I may not know the reverse curse technique, but my barriers are the best in the business.”

“And our doctor put you on bed rest.” The sharpness of his tone let you know there would be no further discussion. Your fiancé was putting his foot down and would refuse to listen to any arguments you came up with. “So lay back down; I’m going to finish making your dinner before I head out.”

Watching him leave the room had you feeling all sorts of emotions: frustration, sadness, and dread. Something about this wasn’t right if you both were called in on the same mission. It had to be serious.

Different thoughts and outcomes were rolling through your head like a raging river. You had no clue what was waiting for your fiancé, leaving you feeling sick, souring the remains of your lunch. You thought you would be sick until Nanami came back into the room. He placed a piping hot mug of ginger tea on the nightstand beside you before laying a bed tray down in your lap with a bowl of steaming rice porridge.

“Oh, Kento, thank you.” Your fiancé gently kissed your cheek before kneeling next to the bed, his hand resting over the spot he’d been obsessed over.

“Daddy needs to go to work, but I’ll be home as soon as possible.” He traced a small heart over your skin. “I love you and Mommy very much, bean.” His honey-brown eyes, which you loved so much, glittered in the lamp beside you. “I love you; please get some rest; don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I love you too, Kento.”

Nanami grinned, putting on his glasses and jacket. “I’ll be home soon.” He pressed one final kiss to your lips before walking out the bedroom door.

The incident in Shibuya was worse than you had thought. Veils were brought down, there was no cell service, and you were anxiously staring at your phone's screen. Nanami texted you a few times before finally sending you two final messages.

Kento: We’re heading further in; I’ll check in with you in a little bit.

You: Please be safe. I love you.

Kento: I love you too.

That was the last message you received. Worry filled every ounce of your being as you anxiously texted everyone you knew who was at Shibuya. Between you keeping up with the updates on social media and searching for answers as to what was going on, just like everyone else, you were outside of the loop, which had your anxiety at an all-time high.

Nanami was okay; he was always okay. Before you knew it, he would walk back in with a big smile. He’d apologize for being late and complain all about the overtime he worked, and he would hold you. That’s precisely what was going to happen.

You should have known something was wrong when there was a knock on the door around noon that morning. “Did you lose your keys?” You asked as you opened the door, finding Yaga standing there, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Yaga?” You question, looking behind him, searching for Nanami.

“Can I come inside?”

“W-Where’s Kento?”

“Hun, please let me in—”

The dread lingering in your stomach rose to your throat as you stepped aside, allowing Yaga to walk in. He was solemn, not looking at you until you both sat at the kitchen table. Your hands felt like ice as Yaga began explaining what happened in Shibuya that he knew thus far.

Gojo had been sealed, and Itadori had been given more fingers; overall, it was a total massacre. So many died, and others were injured. Hearing all of the gory details, had you reaching for your lower stomach. In fear of what Yaga was going to tell you next.

“Is Kento okay? Is he at the hospital, or is Shoko taking care of him?” Yaga remained silent, not saying a single word leaving his lips. “Yaga.”

“Todo and Nitta Arata were called in from Kyoto. They found Itadori fighting the patch-face curse, Mahito.”

Your body went rigid as your vision blurred. Nanami had told you everything that happened with that curse. From his battle with it in the sewers, its technique, and the damage it had done. That curse nearly killed Nanami and Itadori. Hearing about a curse that could alter the shape of a soul had chills running down your spine. Your fiance had said that if he wasn’t dealt with in a timely manner, he would become too strong.

It seemed as though he was right.

“That doesn't answer my question—where’s Kento?” your former high school teacher said nothing again. “Yaga, you need to tell me what happened.”

“When they arrived, itadori was not in a very good state given the circumstances.” Of course, he would be like that. Having Sukuna take control and run a rampage through the city and having to live with that would traumatize anyone. “Mahito touched Nobara, and well—” Yaga trailed off, “we’ll see what happens with her, but Yuuji also informed Todo that Nanami—”

You didn’t wait for him to continue. You stood up, frantically searching for your keys and your jacket. “Stop, let’s go. I need to see him.” Yaga followed after you, gently grabbing your shoulders to stop you. “I need to be by his side. He would do the same for me!” Yaga tightened his grip on you, grabbing your keys and slamming them on the counter.

“Sit down, please.”

“W-Why?” Tears welled in your eyes. “W-We have to go! I need to be with him! Yaga, please!” he helped ease you into the chair before kneeling in front of you. “Yaga?” Your former teacher took his glasses off, holding them between his fingers.

“Itadori told both of them that Nanami—” he swallowed, “Nanami was killed.”

It felt as though your stomach fell out of your body, followed by your heart. You rocked back in the chair, eyes widening as Yaga grabbed your hand. Time stopped; neither you nor Yaga moved or breathed. Heavy breathing filled the silence as the tears fell from your eyes. No way, there was no way he was gone; your Kento w-wouldn't have been taken out—no, he said he would be home soon!

Your stomach churned as you shook your head. “N-No, no, he—” Looking around your apartment, which was full of memories with him, you searched for Kento like it was a bad dream. “H-He was just here—he made me food—” Yaga squeezed your hand gently. “He said he'd be home soon.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“No, no, I don't believe you.” You tried getting up, but your body remained glued to the chair as the shock settled in. “I need to see him. Take me to him, Yaga.”

“There's nothing to see; I refuse to let you see the state they found him in. I can't give you the closure you want.” More tears fell as you struggled to breathe. “We were only able to confirm that it was Nanami because we found his blunt blade and wallet.”

You were going to be sick; your hand covered your mouth as Yaga reached into his back pocket, pulling out a cloth. He gently placed it on the table next to you. Your icy, trembling fingers reached forward, picking up the fabric and unwrapping it. You discovered what was hidden underneath it. Nanami’s wallet sat there in the palm of your hand. Opening it, you choked, seeing his ID.

Yaga kept apologizing as you flipped through the contents of your fiancè’s wallet. You looked through his cards, the money he had inside, before finally landing on a picture he kept of the two of you in the back. A wallet was all that you got? This pathetic piece of leather was your goodbye?

“I know it’s not his body, but it’s still a part of him.”

Part of him? You didn't want part of him; you wanted all of him here at home with you! Where he would caress your stomach absentmindedly while reading. Where you'd cook and share a meal. The two of you would blissfully talk about the future and what it had in store for you.

The nausea settled deep in your stomach as you got up on shaking legs. “I need some air.” As you stepped forward, the room spun, and you began falling forward.

Yaga was fast catching you in his arms as he helped steady you. “Easy there, I got you, hu—” His words trailed off before his muscles clenched. “You're bleeding.” Turning to follow his gaze, you saw a bloom of red staining your chair. “Shit, I’m taking you to the hospital.” Yaga was moving, but all you felt was a numbing sensation. Your eyes stayed locked on your chair before the door slammed shut.

You just lost the love of your life. Now, this was happening? Are you honestly going to lose the one thing he left behind that was a part of both of you? No, no, this wasn't fair! You wailed, screaming as Yaga rushed you out of the apartments into the car one of the assistant supervisors was driving. Yaga barked out an order before resting your head in his lap. Your hands rubbed over the spot Nanami always did as you hiccuped and screamed.

This wasn't real; it was all a nightmare, a terrible, horrible nightmare. But the chill that coursed through your veins and settled in your chest was a sick reminder. A reminder that this was, in fact, not a nightmare. This was reality. The harsh, cold reality that you were having to face on your own. one where your fiancé was dead, and you were bleeding when you were carrying his child. Nanami wasn't dead; this had to be some cosmic twisted joke. Why, on the same day you lost the love of your life, would you lose the last part you had of him?

“No,” you whispered, “no, they’re strong, they’re so strong like their daddy.” Break squealed as the door to the backseat opened. “They have to make it; they’re gonna make it.”

Lights were blurred as you were placed upon a gurney, faces crowded about you, voices shouting, commands, and barking out orders. The sickening smell of sterilizing chemicals flooded your nose, making the nausea worse. You were overwhelmed by the sounds, smell, and grief.

“Where’s that Ultrasound?!”

Cold jelly was on you as you thrashed around trying to find Kento, to look at the screen to see your baby. “I got nothing!” Someone screamed, making you sit up.

“No! No! Please! T-They're okay!”

“Miss, you need to relax.”

“Look again!” You pleaded before you were pushed back against the gurney. “Look again!”

“Easy! Relax!”

They weren't listening to you! You needed to make sure your child was okay! You could not lose them both, not on the same day. Your blurry eyes searched the faces around you, desperately trying to find honey-brown eyes. But he wasn't there. You needed him! Fuck you needed him so tucking bad!

“Kento!!” Your scream was so loud it made your ears ring as nurses and doctors worked around and above you. “P-Please! Please, I can't lose them too, Ken! I can't lose you both!!!”

A warmth washed over you like a warm hand, gently rubbing up and down your arm, easing you down into a calm state. Or maybe you were given something by the doctors, or the shock was making you drift out of consciousness. Your heart stopped thundering in your ears, slowing to a normal pace as your eyes began to shut. The blurry shapes around you faded into darkness.

That same warm caress had you stirring, blinking as the sound of ocean waves crashing drew you from your hellish nightmare. Slowly following the hand on you gasped, finding Nanami sitting before you. He was in his blue button-down top, tie long forgotten, just like the day you had told him you were pregnant. You sat up on pure white sand, tears rolling down your cheeks as you reached for him, cupping his face.

“Kento—”

“Love, I'm so sorry.” He turned, nuzzling his face into your palms. “I’m so sorry I left you both.”

“I love you.” The words were broken and full of disdain as you pulled him closer. “I love you, I love you.”

Blonde brows furrowed in sorrow as Nanami shut his eyes as tightly as possible. “I love you too, darling.” He huffed out a heavy sigh. “I love you both.” The way he shifted his arms had your eyes darting toward his chest, where a bundle lay in his arms. A bundle that wailed softly as he pushed the blanket back. “You were right.” Blinking tears away, you stared up at him in confusion.

“About what?”

“About her being strong like me.” His eyes filled with tears as he ran his knuckle over a chubby cheeks. “She's a fighter.”

“She?”

“And she’s beautiful like her mommy.” Kenton continued as he gently transferred the bundle into your arms. “She’s going to be smart like the both of us.” Nanami cupped your cheek, gently kissing you. “She’ll pull through, just like you will, and I’ll be right there with you, watching over my girls; I swear I’ll always be there.”

Pressing your forehead against his, you stared into those eyes you loved. “I love you, Kento.” He stared back, blinking slowly before pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while his hand rested against your tummy, making your heartache.

“I love you too.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep breath before opening them again. Big sparkling honey-brown eyes peered down at you, framed by thick lashes. They were full of concern as a tiny hand gently wiped a tear away from your eye.

“Mommy? Why are you cryin’?”

Sitting up, you quickly wiped your eyes before turning towards the four-year-old. “I was dreaming, little bean; I'm okay.” Blonde hair bounced as she tilted her head to the side. Her frilly pink swimsuit was on, and her yellow duck floaties squeaked as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “Oh, Kotoe.” You hugged her back, squeezing her gently. “Thank you, baby.” Your daughter pulled back, rubbing your cheek softly.

“Was it scary?”

“Nope, it was a good dream.”

“Good?”

“Mhmm,” You kissed her cheek, “your daddy just stopped by to say hi to us.” She smiled wide, looking up at the blue umbrella shielding you from the sun.

“Hi, Daddy!” She waved so enthusiastically. “I love you!” She focused her attention back on you. “Mommy, can Uncle Yuuji and Uncle Ino take me back to the water to play more?”

“Sure baby, just a little longer; Uncle Gojo and the others will be back soon with the watermelon and fireworks. Can I put some more sunscreen on you first?”

A bottle of sunscreen promptly landed beside you as Ino passed. “Already did it!” He ran for the water as Yuuji bolted by picking your daughter up.

“Ah, haha! Uncle Yuuji!!”

“Nana-Bean! Nana-Bean!” Yuuji chanted as he and Ino grabbed one of her hands, walking toward the water.

Nanami had been right; your little girl was strong, just like him. She fought and made it through a scary dark time in your life. Kotoe was your entire world; she was loved by you and everyone around you. It was all thanks to her that you found the strength to fight.

A warm caress brushed down your cheek as you watched your daughter pick up seashells. You learned into it, sighing happily. “Hi, Kento,” you whispered as the warmth spread. “Thanks for saying hi, I love you.”

Little Kotoe turned and looked back at you, holding up a pink shell she found. When she did, she saw a see-through man and recognized him immediately. Her father, Nanami Kento, whom she'd only seen in pictures and videos, sat on the beach towel beside you. His see-through hand gently rubs up your cheek.

“Nana-bean? Whatcha looking at?”

“My daddy!” She announced proudly before putting her seashell in her bucket. “He loves my mommy so much he comes and visits her!”

Ino and Yuuji shared a look before focusing on you. Both young men felt an ache in their chests as their eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Does he visit a lot?” Yuuji asked as Kotoe dropped another seashell in her pink sand bucket.

“Mhmm! Daddy said Mommy is strong! The strongest! Stronger than Uncle Gojo!”

A shadow spread over the trio. “I’m sorry. Someone's stronger than me?” Kotoe looked up at Gojo, who held a watermelon over his shoulder.

“My daddy said my mommy is!”

“Oooh~” Gojo fixed his glasses, turning his head to smile at you as Maki and Yuuta sat with you. “Yeah, your mommy is strong. But your dad needs to shut his mouth, or I'll put a sippy cup on his altar.”

The trio all tilted their heads in confusion. Gojo smirked before telling them the story of Nanami spilling coffee down the front of himself the same day you had found out you were pregnant. The group busted into a string of giggles. You turned from Maki, watching your little girl throw her head back, rays of light surrounding her.

Once in a blue moon, Kento had mentioned to you that he told a girl at a bakery, ‘No one would mind if I was gone.’ he couldn't have been more wrong. There wasn't a day that you didn't miss him. So many people missed him; he had been taken far too soon.

Four years have passed since you lost the love of your life. But Nanami had blessed you with memories of him and helped make your little bean before his untimely departure. Knowing and loving him was one of the greatest honors bestowed upon you. It was the kind of love that transcended time. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that lived on through his pupils, his daughter, and you.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

288 notes · View notes

shadowtriovibes · 2 years ago

Note

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #requests #my fic

1K notes · View notes