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kageyuji · 4 years

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his teammate has a crush on his s/o

⤷ suna, iwaizumi, bokuto, tendou ; [gn!reader] — part 1

TAGS: jealousy, fluff(?), swearing, the teammates were written a little ooc for the plot

NOTES: if you reblog I’ll give you my first born child in return, please and thank you <3

━━ SUNA

although surprisingly good at acting fine and saying that he was perfectly calm, he wasn’t immune to jealousy in the slightest

but he wasn’t a complete dumbass either

and he didn’t know why atsumu seemed to think that he was

of course, atsumu had a tendency to flirt with anything that breathes and has a heartbeat, but suna couldn’t shake the feeling like something with off

but he knew that you loved no one but him, so he tries not to let atsumu’s jokes and teasing get to him

until he realizes that maybe... maybe it wasn’t completely harmless

The flirting was a fairly common thing at this point. Never too heavy, just little winks and cocky smiles sent your way, along with the occasional flirtatious compliment.

“C’mon, I’m just sayin’, I could treat you so much better than Suna can.”

What.

While he didn’t like any of it, that was where Suna drew the line. He didn’t say anything at first, he didn’t react at all except a furrowing of his eyebrows.

He didn’t really know what to do — he sat there for a few moments, trying to figure out if he’d heard Atsumu right and then letting that fact sink in. And then he was walking over to the other guy.

Suna had seen the expression on your face. You looked confused to say the least, trying to figure out what Atsumu had meant. Because surely he hadn’t meant what it seemed like he was saying... right?

“Come again, Miya?” Though his tone sounded somewhat bored, it was laced with hostility.

Atsumu’s face dropped at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, blinking a few times and smiling.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I was just jokin’ arou-”

“Hm, you aren’t funny though.” Suna said in the same half-bored tone. He stepped closer to you, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to himself.

“It’s harmless flirting, it’s a joke. What, am I not allowed to joke around anymore?” He smiled, though he was clearly nervous.

Suna set his jaw, “Not with my partner, no.”

━━ IWAIZUMI

he didn’t get jealous often, he trusted you so he could usually bite down his insecurity easily

but it’s not like anyone would hit on you when mr. biceps was with you anyway

nevertheless, he doesn’t like the way mattsun speaks to you — he knows that mattsun has a somewhat unconscious tendency for dirty jokes or being unknowingly flirtatious

and he doesn’t mind usually, but iwaizumi swears there’s some times whenever the flirtatious comments seem a little too frequent

but you haven’t stated that you were uncomfortable, so iwaizumi told himself that he could grin and bear it

everyone has limits though

Iwaizumi could have sworn that Mattsun was laying it on a lot heavier now that he didn’t think your boyfriend was still within earshot.

But of course this was all just Iwaizumi overthinking things. That was all... wasn’t it? The last thing he wanted to do was to be overbearing, to be controlling, to make you uncomfortable. So he held his breath and tried to focus on anything except your laugh.

“You can come over tonight if you want, I need to study and-”

“Y/n has plans tonight, actually.” Iwaizumi cut in, and when he turned around he was glad that he had.

It wasn’t that you looked exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like you wanted anything to do with the conversation either. A smile crossed your face at the sound of him chiming in, and you took a small step closer to him.

“It’s just studying, Y/n can help me-”

“I said that Y/n isn’t helping you do shit, alright?”

Mattsun didn’t say anything in response, just swallowed thickly, nodded, and walked away. You hadn’t seen Iwaizumi get so bothered by something like that — and Iwaizumi wasn’t expecting himself to either, but the expression on your face whenever he’d turned around caused him to abandon most of his filter.

“Are you ok?” You asked.

He took a deep breath and turned to you, his face relaxing. “More importantly, are you ok?”

━━ BOKUTO

he’s oblivious sometimes, too caught up in looking at the big picture to realize smaller things going on

which isn’t always a bad thing, but whenever he looked past the way akaashi was being just a little too friendly with you it was

it didn’t last long though, and once he had the idea planted in his head it was stuck and wasn’t going away any time soon

so naturally he was a little more mopey, although he didn’t say anything yet

that was until akaashi started getting closer to you, and you didn’t even seem to notice that

“Oh hey, Y/n! We can go someplace after school and study for a while. Uh... it’s just, you mentioned a while ago that you needed help in one of your classes.”

Bokuto frowned at his friend’s words, watching as you smiled and thanked the setter. The worry ate at him, but it wasn’t even jealousy at this point, just something like sadness. You agreed and it painted Akaashi’s cheeks pink, spread a smile across his face.

“But, Y/n...” Bokuto said, his voice almost a whine, though it fell quieter at the end of his sentence.

You looked over to him, seeing the pout and expression in his eyes. Akaashi seemed to notice it too, asking Bokuto if everything was alright.

“Yeah, Kou?”

“Don’t you want to go somewhere with me after school?” He said, looking up at you with hopefully eyes. You walked over to where he was sitting and reached to grab his hand.

“As much as I would like to, I really need to study. Akaashi was nice enough to-”

“Akaashi this and Akaashi that,” The whine in his voice was fleeting now as he came to realize just how unnecessarily kind his friend had been to you lately. “spend time with me, baby.”

The setter seemed a little more alert than he had been a moment ago, eyes wide and barely breathing. Bokuto’s eyes landed on him, and though his eyes were usually warm and kind, they now held a level of hostility you’d not seen before.

Akaashi was making up an excuse to leave quickly, telling you that something had come up and that you couldn’t study.

“...and maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time around him.”

“Huh, why?”

“No, I mean, you can- you can choose your friends and all, but just remember I’m your boyfriend.”

“I know, Kou, wouldn’t have it any other way. That date you offered though sounds good, anywhere in mind?”

━━ TENDOU

tendou gets jealous a fair amount, although none of his jealousy is unfounded

he’s not controlling or possessive though — he trusts you not to do anything, he just doesn’t trust other people

of course, there’d been some rumor started about how your whole relationship had been fake for one reason or the other, but now the secret was out so you’d broken up

so now these types of situations got more frequent, but if he sees you in a situation where someone is getting just a little too friendly, he’ll step in without another thought

it’s a little different whenever it’s his teammate though, especially when it’s ushijima

he tried not to let that get to him though, telling himself that it’s just like any other random person

“Y/n... could you help me?” Ushijima asked, laughing sheepishly.

But of course you smiled and agreed, then walked over to him. Tendou didn’t know what it was, honestly didn’t care, he just didn’t like how much it bothered him.

Alone, it was harmless, sure. But with everything else he’s been doing lately...

“Also, Y/n, I was wondering if I could ask you something? There’s this-”

“Y/n is busy that day sorry!” Tendou cut in, quickly turning around to look at the two of you. A smile was spread across his face, though nothing but hostility in his eyes. “They have plans with me.”

“Wait, what day?” You asked, not remembering any time recent that the two of you had planned on going somewhere.

“I dunno, whatever day he was about to say. You’re my partner after all.”

He smiled at you. Then his index finger was under your chin and he was pecking your lips. Heat rose in your cheeks at that simple action, but you tried to ignore it.

“Oh. I didn’t know that you and Tendou... I apologize, that-”

“It’s ok,” You laughed. “Half of the school still believes that we aren’t dating.”

Tendou huffed, then stepped closer to you and grabbed your hand. “But we are, and I would very much like to kiss you in public so people can see that. C’mon, where do you think there’s the most people right now, angel?”?

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Angels on Earth

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: “CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! I love your writing sm <3

this is my first time ever making a request and recently I found out that the person I was dating is still in love with their ex so I'm looking for comfort rn hehe

could you do a 23, 33, 35 with Ron, a mix of fluff and smut? chubby/plus size fem reader please”

Summary: Ron thought he was obvious, but it was clear (Y/n) was more obvious.

Warnings: Sexual themes

A/N: This took a while but I’ve also been busy but, enjoy!

23. “Cause I never believed there was a heaven till I found you.”

33. “Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” “I’d fuck you right now.”

35. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.”

For as long as Ron could remember, he had always found his potions partner to be beautiful. Who could blame him? (Y/n) was a beautiful girl. Round cheeks, soft all around, beautiful (h/c) hair, and the prettiest set of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. But that wasn’t originally what drew him in, it was everything else. (Y/n) had an aura that surrounded her that was so bright, so full of life. Everyone who befriended her was always in a positive mood, smiles seen left and right from the jokes she’d tell. Even right now, with her hair pulled back from her face and the cute little goggles she insisted on wearing, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Right. I think that should be it.” She said, pushing the goggles up her face as she turned her head to look at him. His face flushed and if she had noticed, she didn’t say much. “That is unless you fucked something up. Merlin knows how bad you are with Potions Weasley.” she giggled, his heart pulling and racing in his chest.

“Oi! ‘M not that bad. Plus you didn’t let me touch anything, should be fine unless you managed to make a mistake.” He leaned towards her a bit with a devious smirk. “But it’s impossible for you to do that isn’t it? I forgot you were just a perfect princess.” He pulled away, eyes trained on the potion in the cauldron in front of them. Amortentia, was it? He found it a bit strange because he couldn’t smell anything but the girl’s perfume no matter how far he leaned in. In his own state of confusion, he completely missed the girl’s own shocked look on her face.

“What do you smell?” she questioned, gathering her things due to the period drawing to a close. His eyes widened at his realization before calming down. Now was a better time than ever. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“You.” his eyes shot open at the sound of a snort. (Y/n) had made her way towards the exit of the potions room, (e/c) eyes rolling at him as she shot him a smile. She went to leave the room before giving him an up and down.

“If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.” she teased, shooting him a wink before exiting the room. He groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face as he adjusted the awkward bulge in his pants. He stood, gathering his things as he huffed to himself.

“I’m in deep aren’t I?” he said out loud, ignoring the look his slimy potion’s teacher gave him. Without another word, he left continuing on his path to his next dreadful class of the day.

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

“She probably thought you were joking.” Harry said, causing Ron to give him a glare. Even though there was a big possibility that Harry was right, he didn’t want to believe him. He thought his attempt was a good one! He was direct about what he meant, right?

“He’s got a point. You guys usually joke around and mess with each other a lot. She probably thought you were cracking a joke. Have you tried just telling her how you feel?” Luna asked as if the answer was obvious. Ron felt his brow twitch as he sighed, sinking down in his seat more as he threw his head back.

“What can be more obvious than saying you smell someone in your Amortentia? Do you guys even think?” He questioned.

“Do you? Cause if you did then you’d know that was a poor attempt.” Hermione chimed. Although at first he was sure his attempt was good, that it was obvious, suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts. Was he clear enough? Sure, you could say one thing but he’d be the first to admit his actions didn’t match. He huffed, looking at his friends, desperation hidden in his eyes.

“Well, what should I say then?”

“Say something truthful! Let your heart speak for what your actions couldn’t.” Ginny chimed, causing them all to give her a strange look. She crossed her arms, looking away with red cheeks. “What? I think I’d know what chicks like, I do shag em afterall.”

“So tell us, what does your heart say Ron?” Luna asked, he sighed as he racked his brain. He liked her a lot. How could he not? (Y/n) was beautiful, a gift from the heavens above. The softness of her skin, the roundness of her tummy, and those beautiful luscious thighs. He was surprised no one else had made a move on her yet. She was kind too, always willing to help her fellow (y/h/h) in need.

A lovesick dopey look took over his face. “I...I’d say…” he let out a dreamy noise as hearts took over his eyes, “I never believed there was a heaven till I found you. Never believed angels walked among us at Hogwarts, that I think she’s amazing and I-”

“Okay ew that’s enough. I’m gonna be sick. Save it for her.” his sister said, grimacing as she stood up. “And with that note, I’m gone. Why not tell her at the Gryfindor party tonight? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Ron gulped nervously. That soon? Surely a few hours wasn’t enough time to prepare! Maybe he’d try in a few months…

However as he looked across the hall, seeing some twit practically eye fucking her, it was settled. Tonight he would tell her and if not, he’d at least make some progress.

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

Ron let out a shaky deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his jeans. Whether it was the sweltering heat of all the warm bodies, the shots he had taken, or the thought of what he had set out to do tonight he didn’t know, but either way he was burning like a phoenix. His eyes trailed the room nervously, looking for (Y/n). How was he sure she’d be here anyways? She wasn’t a frequent attender to parties, only showing up to them sporadically. However at the sound of a familiar laugh-snort combo, he had all he needed.

In his buzzed(and slightly drunken) haze, he followed the sound blindly, face heating up at the girl's appearance. She wore a blush colored bodycon dress that clung to the folds and curves of her body nicely.. Her hair was styled differently than usual, but suited her perfectly nonetheless. Most things did. And when she saw him? Her face broke out in a bright smile as she hiccuped, handing her half empty cup to one of her friends. She stumbled her way over to him. He steadied her by placing his hand on her waist, looking down at her.

“Ronnn! Omg Ronnie, what’re you doing here?” she hiccuped again, giggling as she stared up at him. He smiled back at her softly, stroking along the softness of her waist.

“ I could ask you the same thing, love, you’re not much of a drinker usually.” he placed a hand on her cheek, thankful for the liquid courage flowing through his system. “You alright? Come on, let’s sit you down. You don’t seem to be too steady.” he said, guidning her towards the couch. When they got there, he expected her to sit next to him but was in shock as she parked herself in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling down at him drunkenly. He handed her a glass of water, the same one he had been handed earlier when he was getting a bit out of hand. She thanked him, sipping on it at a slow pace.

After a few minutes, the hiccuping and giggles had died down from her, leaving her to form goosebumps at their current position. She was fully seated on the boy’s lap and he had his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his fingers along her soft pudgy sides. She bit her lip as she looked off to the side, before bringing her eyes back to his.

“Uh, Ron,” she started, looking down as she picked at the skin around her nail beds. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “Can I ask you something?” her heart began to race rapidly as she looked at him, watching as he nodded before offering her a soft smile.

“Course. What’s up?” How should she phrase it? Should she be simple? Should she-

“Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” she blurted out, eyes widening. Although she had wanted to ask him something about if he was attracted to her, she hadn’t intended on being so...bold. She was known for speaking her mind but not in situations like this! In a state of panic, she went to stand up but was pulled down by a strong pair of arms, pulling her close to an even stronger, toned chest. He chuckled in her ears, hair tickling the edge of her neck.

“Shit princess, I mean...I’d fuck you right now.” his grip on her sides tightened, trailing one hand on her thigh. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this was the last one Ron expected. (Y/n), his snarky potions partner, in his lap in that god forsaken dress asking if he’d fuck her. He felt his own heart begin to race. Did she mean to say it? Well, did she mean to say it to him? Or did she just want his opinion for someone else?

“O-oh.” she stuttered out. (Y/n) pulled back some, turning her head to look at him, finding that his eyes instantly were drawn to hers.

“Do you mean that?” they both asked. Ron’s cheeks turned red as (Y/n) felt her own face grow warm. Both of them let out breaths they didn’t even know they were holding, laughing with one another.

“I meant it but, did you?” she asked, breath hitching of the closeness of their faces to one another. She could smell the fire whiskey mixed with hints of cannabis and weed mixing with it making her absolutely intoxicated. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.

“‘Course I did, love. You don’t have to be skinny for me to do anything with you, let alone fuck you. Because trust me,” he trailed a hand along her upper thigh, sliding it between the soft expanse of them. “It’d be my pleasure to fuck a woman with a body like yours. A woman so soft, so tender, bet that cunt of yours is tight and dripping. Isn’t it?” the girl squeaked, clenching her thighs around his hand. He leaned down, pecking her lips softly before pulling away, (Y/n) whimpering in a desperate attempt to let him know she wanted more..

“And if I were to grant you that pleasure right now?” she purred, placing a soft hand on his cheek which he gladly leaned into, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“I’d be the luckiest man alive.”

#ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ronald weasley x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron x reader #ron x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #chubby reader #x chubby reader #chubby!reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader

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taechaos · 3 years

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Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it.

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least.

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself.

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin.

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion.

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing.

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs.

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees.

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening.

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane.

“Are these real stories?”

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle.

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare.

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life.

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention.

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth.

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt.

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?”

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him.

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of?

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out.

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity.

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra.

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life? Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice…

#bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts smut #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts fic #taehyung fic #kth smut #bts #thekpopnetwork

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration.

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic.

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him.

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss.

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom.

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully.

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before.

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him.

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave.

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him.

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds.

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there.

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him.

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did.

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake.

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question.

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all.

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much.

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say.

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion.

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time.

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George.

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken.

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged.

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long.

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall.

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away.

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked.

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure.

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter.

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing.

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong.

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners.

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk.

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression.

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation.

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath.

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say.

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips.

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night.

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on.

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style.

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

Text

When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”. You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

#spencer reid #Spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #cm #Spencer reid smut #smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fanfiction

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

personal jesus* frank castle x reader

+++++++++

I don't usually add these disclaimers but this fic is nothing really close to anything I've written before so we'll add 'em anyway. And usually my stories are between 800 and 2500 words but I've exceeded that on this one so I'll add that too.

Wc: 2741

Warnings: canon level blood and gore mention, stitching him up, bad words, smut, and the likeness. It's very vulgar.

*- this is nothing but smut. Porn with a little bit of plot basically. Thigh riding, nipple play, not really a blood kink but like maybe if you squint, dick riding, unprotected p in v (please use protection in real life), and I think that's it. Enjoy 🥴

Song: joker and the thief by wolfmother

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

I sat on the couch reading, enjoying my late Saturday evening, the coffee sat under the lamp next to me long forgotten. I was all but consumed and was ready to ignore my alarm telling me to go to bed in the next couple minutes. It was almost midnight but I was determined to finish this book. After all, I only had twelve chapters left. Work could wait.

I flipped the page, new chapter, alarm began to ring. I turned it off and kept reading. Turned my attention to the next page and there was a knock at my door. I rolled my eyes. It's midnight, it couldn't be anyone that important. I flipped the page. Then the banging on the door started. Once, then another time, then another.

"Alright, I'm coming."

I mumbled under my breath, setting the bookmark in the spine and setting the book next to the mug on the side table. There was another slam of a fist against my door as I peaked through the peephole. It was frank and he didn't look great.

"Shit."

I mumbled under my breath as I fiddled with the door chain quickly. In a matter of rushed seconds the door was open and he was stumbling forward into my arms.

"What the fuck frank?"

I inquired a little annoyed, kicking the door closed and walking him to the kitchen table.

"I was gonna go home but your place was closer."

He groaned as I set him in the leather chair.

"And if I don't get this taken care of I'm gonna bleed out."

His voice was gruff, head dropping back against the back of the chair as I assessed him. He was covered in blood and I couldn't tell if it was his or someone else's. But knowing him it was probably a mixture of both. But as my gaze traveled up his torso and to his neck I noticed something.

"How far down does this go?"

I asked, touching the cut lightly with my finger tips and he jolted upright, grabbing my hand tightly in his own.

"I can't fix it if you don't let me at least see it."

I said and he let out a long shaky breath.

"Start with something else first."

He demanded, voice deep and strained like he'd been yelling. I shook my head.

"I'll be right back."

I look over him one last time before disappearing down the hall. I got in the closet first, getting everything I needed out of it before going back to the kitchen and filling a bowl with warm water.

"So, how much of this is yours?"

I asked, pulling up a tv tray and setting the bowl on it, soaking a wash cloth. He sent me a look, resituating in his seat to get comfortable, legs spread wide and one hand resting on each thigh.

"No, answer, per usual. That's fine."

I mumbled under my breath as I got to work wiping the blood off his face. I was careful not to push on the bruises I could see, taking extra care around the cuts and scrapes. There was a small one under his left eye, another deep into the brow bone. That One he hissed at when I went over it. I shook my head.

"I need to see this at a batter angle."

I stated boldly before straddling his left thigh and tilting his head up and to the side for more light. He looked at me for a moment, holding his breath as I rinsed the rag and got back to work. It took him a second to let the air back out, when he realized I didn't care what he was doing beneath me.

"This must've been some fight."

I mentioned more to myself than anything. He stared back ahead of him, swallowing hard.

"You should see the other guy."

He said quietly and I snorted, wiping the remaining blood off his face.

"Something tells me he'll be in the paper later this week under that section in the back titled 'obituary'."

He side eyed me, tightening his jaw as I moved to open my kit. I started with q-tips and rubbing alcohol, and setting out a few small butterfly bandaids.

"This is gonna hurt."

I said and he huffed a laugh out, as if to say sarcastically 'and you think it didn't hurt when it happened?' But I just ignored it. I dipped the first q-tip into the alcohol and pressed it to the cut under his eye. He hissed and jerked away and I sent him a look.

"Sit still or it's gonna get infected."

He drew his brows at me before going back to where he was before.

"If it hurts that bad, just squeeze here."

I said, grabbing his hand that had been situated under me on his thigh and placing it against my hip.

"But don't move."

I said firmly, holding his jaw tightly with one hand and getting back to work. His breathing was unsteady as I ran a new qtip dipped in alcohol over the cut. It was still trying to scab so I was getting more coagulated blood than I had originally bargained for. He kept his jaw locked in place as I added the bandaid to the cut under his eye. Now onto the brow bone. It was deeper, still running blood down and almost into his eye. It was a race between me and it and luckily I was winning. When I touched it with the qtip he squeezed my hip so tightly i made a pained noise.

"Shit."

We said in unison and I shook my head.

"Sit still."

I said annoyed, grabbing another bandaid and positioning it around his eyebrow. When it was on I moved his head again via his jaw to make sure there weren't any more. I had cleaned all the blood off already and the only traces of the fight that were left were the deep purple and yellow bruises littered under his left eye and across his nose and right cheek. I nodded once in content before pushing his head to look up and inspecting the deep cut that started at the base of his jaw and got thicker the further under his shirt collar it got.

"I need to look at this now."

I said and he sighed.

"Fine but don't do that shit you just did to my face."

I rolled my eyes.

"Big baby."

He glared at me before letting his death grip on me go and lifting his shirt. My eyes went wide as his shirt hit the table in a wet heap. The cut went all the way to his sternum and was all but gushing blood.

"Why the fuck didn't we start with this?!?"

I said in a loud, angry tone, looking from the cut to his face.

"Didnt want you to worry."

He managed and I shook my head, getting my stuff out quickly.

"No, you don't get to do that. All this time and you could've been dead in my kitchen."

I said a little more pissed off than I meant. I started again by wiping the blood away, holding a dry wash cloth to his chest to stop it from bleeding more.

"Hold this, lots of pressure."

I instructed, his right hand coming up and doing as told. His left hand went back to my side as I started cleaning the small part of the cut at his jaw.

"What did you do frank?"

I inquired, again more as a 'thinking out loud' than looking for an actual answer.

"I backed up before he could run me all the way through. Damn ninja. Sliced up, almost took my fucking ear off."

I sent him a look, one he returned as I cleaned the thinner part of the cut, adding butterfly bandaids; two on his throat, one on his collar bone, one just below it on the edge of his peck.

"That's gonna need stitches."

He sighed, sinking further into the chair and his lower stomach pressing against my thighs.

"Alright. Let's get it over with."

He complied and i bit my tongue. I quickly got everything out, sterilized the needle and he moved his hand. It was still bleeding and I knew this would be messy. I leaned forward to get a better look and his hand went with my hip.

"Why don't you just sit."

He said and I looked up to him, brows drawn.

"What?"

I asked and he rolled his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips but it was barely there.

"Sit."

He said, grabbing my waist and pushing me down onto his leg. I made a surprised noise and he laughed, groaning a bit.

"fine, but don't move, I don't want to make it worse."

He stared down at me intently as I got to work stitching him up. His gaze was intense and he kept his iron grip on my hip the entire time. I would be flustered if I weren't so focused. The stitches were barely helping as I sewed against his chest. It was still bleeding a lot. And when the stitches were done it seemed like I had more work to do than when I started. I moved to clean it and he caught my hand.

"Is that really necessary?"

He asked and I deadpanned.

"Yes frank now let go."

I said sternly and he did, brows drawn as I poured the alcohol over his chest. He hissed, throwing his head back as he bruised my hip more. The blood ran freely down his torso as he breathed heavily, it rippling against his abs as they tensed. I took another dry rag and wiped it off. The bleeding was starting to slow now that the cut was together and I was more relieved. He looked back down at me, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"Shit woman you sure know how to do a number on me."

I smirked at him as I leaned over and put the stuff back on the tv tray.

"I've had a lot of practice."

I said a little cocky and he smiled.

"Good thing too."

He said and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"You're a menace frank castle. But I wouldn't want it any other way."

He just stared at me for a second and then I realized I was still sitting on him and should probably get up before it gets weird. I placed my hands at his shoulders and tried but he still had a grip on me that was prohibiting me from doing so.

"Frank?"

I asked and in a second his lips were against my own. It was then that I'd realized he had a cut on his lip. He tasted like iron and hissed through his teeth when I ran my tongue across it. I smiled against him but he kept going. It was needy and rushed and everything I had imagined it would be. Not that I had thought about it often but he wound up in my apartment covered in blood a couple times a month so I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind once or twice.

"Frank."

I moaned against him as he kissed the side of my mouth, then my jaw, then across my neck. My arms were around his shoulders now, holding on for dear life as his hands roamed my body. I adjusted against his thigh and he growled against my ear, his hands guiding me to do it again. I did it without even thinking, pressing my core further against him if that was even possible. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter and before I knew what was happening my own blood soaked shirt was off and sitting next to his on the glass table.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while."

He confessed through staggered breaths as he undid my bra, his mouth traveling across my collar bone and down my chest. Then my nipple was in his mouth and I was moaning again. I scratched lightly at the back of his head with one hand and trailed my finger tips down his torso with the other, being careful not to touch the cut. As I got further down his motions slowed, and when I began palming him through his jeans he rested his forehead against my chest and breathed heavily.

"Shit."

He breathed out and I laughed, his hips pushing up to meet my hand. He was already hard and I could tell he wanted more. As I undid his pants he sat back upright, kissing me again like his life depended on it. It was just as harsh and sloppy as before but he froze when I took him out of his pants, stroking him lightly. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open and I could feel his hands at my thighs trying to push into my pajamas shorts. I kissed across his face, feeling his hot breath fan over my jaw and neck.

"Need you. Now."

He said, finally looking at me. His pupils were blown out and his eyes were black with lust as he pulled my one leg over his right one so I was sitting on his lap properly now. I kissed him again as he pushed my shorts and panties to the side, holding me against him. I looked down long enough to line him up and sank down onto him. I moaned at the new feeling, watching as he dropped his head back against the chair, his brows knitted together as he screwed his eyes shut. I kissed across his exposed neck and chest as I moved on top of him. His legs were still spread wide beneath me, helping me out as I rode him.

"Shit. Faster."

He managed, looking back to me as his hands gripped my ass tightly.

"Yes sir."

I said playfully, and he groaned. As I did as told he slapped my ass and I squealed in surprise, clenching around him. He screwed his brows together, watching my every move with intent as I bounced on top of him quickly.

"Frank."

I moaned, reaching down to circle my clit as he kept me steady on top of him.

"Keep going beautiful."

He encouraged and I dropped my head back, feeling the knot build in my stomach.

"Frank."

I whined again, my legs beginning to shake.

"Just a little bit more."

He grunted out, thrusting up to meet me as my movements got slower.

"Oh god."

I said panicked, as I felt closer, him pounding up into me.

"Oh my god."

I yelled as my body shook, my orgasm ripping through my body, pussy clenching around him. He held me close as I shook on top of him, riding out my high as he chased his own.

"Y/n."

He moaned, his thrusts getting harsher.

"Y/n."

He said a little louder and I could hear the chair creak. I lifted up and dropped to meet him and he moaned loudly against my neck, hand placed firmly at my back as he came in me. I could feel him twitch against my walls as his pace slowed. We both breathed heavily, sporadically, as we calmed down. We still had a death grip on each other, my arms around his shoulders, his arms around my waist, our heads pressed against one another. It was like the aftermath of a hurricane.

"Thanks."

I said through a breathy laugh and he sat up, brows drawn in confusion. His hands were at my hips now and I could feel him going soft in me.

"For what?"

"For the great ride cowboy."

I said with a wink and he smiled, shaking his head at me.

"Is that a fair trade off?"

He asked and I shrugged.

"I stitch you up and you cum in me, I don't know if that has the same affect."

He laughed, kissing my cheek.

"Would it make it better if I helped clean up?"

He asked, gazing up at me, an innocence to him that I hadn't seen before.

"How about this. We go take a shower to get this blood off both of us and then we'll see where that takes us."

He kissed my jaw, tracing his fingers lightly up my back.

"Sure thing doc."

#wattpad #x reader #smut #frank castle #the punisher #the defenders #marvel #imagines #one shots #336

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wasabito · 4 years

Text

thank you to @sparkexplosive and @vs-redemption for beta reading it for me! merry christmas & happy holidays everyone ♥️

➽ synopsis: being a member of the royal guard is a grueling and thankless job, so you decide to remind katsuki a little of what it’s like to be young again—what better way to do that than with some healthy competition.

➽ word count: 1.7k

➽ tags: fluff, budding romance, royalty au, childhood friends

➽ author’s note: i had a ton of fun participating in my first ever secret santa!! this is my gift-fic to the lovely @katsushimaa hope you enjoy, yssa!

"So, this is where the hell you've been hiding?"

His voice tore through the midday stillness like a blade, equal parts raspy and gruff. He sounded irritated and mildly fatigued. Not that Katsuki Bakugou would ever admit to being anything less than a hundred and ten percent. He climbed off his steed, heavy boots crunching under the weight of his feet, and secured his horse against the stump you were leaning on.

You flipped the page of your book, not sparing the man even a cursory glance. You would prefer to keep your attention occupied by fictitious worlds, warriors, and battles fought in the name of love and justice.

It was much easier to allow yourself to become the bearer of fictional hardships, because at least they could be solved through a well-constructed plot with each turn of a page, as opposed to the realities of your actual life, a slow spiraling disaster in comparison.

Bakugou stood in front of you, vein ticking on his throat with every clench of his jaw. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, red gaze pinned on your hunched form. He wasn't at all the kind of person anyone could easily ignore. His very presence demanded attention and drew eyes like a magnet.

Case in point, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you simply couldn’t.

"Please tell me you aren't going to stand there the entire time. Take a hint will you." You went to turn another page, but Bakugou reached over and snatched the book from your hands with deft fingers and speed you couldn't hope to match.

"Give. It. Back."

"Nah, I don't think I will just yet." He sneered, thumbing through the pages. "I was told to bring your dumbass back to the estate, so that's exactly what the hell I'm 'bout to do."

You blew a puff of air from your lips, eyes blazing with a kind of defiance that only burned harder the more you glared at him. "Then I guess you'll just have to drag me back kicking and screaming."

Bakugou only smirked, teeth spread in a feral grin that sent a chill down your spine.

That had always been his intention.

Almost an hour later, you stood before your parents, clothes dusty, creased, and smudged from having been manhandled like a sack of flour before promptly dumped in front of your waiting audience.

A frown marred your delicate features as they began their lecture.

Your mind drifted elsewhere the more they reminded you of your lineage and that you were royalty and how it was imperative you behave as such. You’d heard it all before, known this for as long as you could remember. As the King and Queen of your home country, your parents never failed to emphasize the importance of keeping your every move in check because of the reputation you had to uphold.

Katsuki stood somewhere behind you, and although he stayed mostly silent, you could almost hear him grinding away at his molars. The King and Queen were taking turns subtly digging into him as well, implying that his incompetence was a stain upon the royal guard perfect record of achievements. If he couldn't keep you in line, what was the point of holding rank?

They annoyed him way more than they did you, but he dare not voice it, not if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders. Far be it from him to send himself to the guillotine

You both were in for a long night.

“Honestly, this kind of behavior is unbecoming of someone of your status. What will our countrymen think if they see you roaming about unattended like a vagabond?” Your father stroked his beard as if waiting for a response. But everyone in the room knew he really just liked to hear himself talk.

He was no better than a machiavellian swindler in expensive robes. A puppet if you would.

The real leader of the land was your mother. After all, she had only married into the family, having been the daughter of a mere advisor with no royal blood. She spoke little, but her glare was more than enough to convey just what she was thinking.

By the end of the lecture, you felt like all of your energy had been sapped from you, but thankfully your parents left you to retreat into your bedroom for the remainder of the day. Bakugou escorted you, following close behind.

“You’re gonna do it again, aren’t ya?”

You paused, foot nearly catching against the carpeted floors of your bedroom. Fiddling with a piece of your hair, you shrugged. “...maybe.”

“You’re a huge idiot.” Bakugou shook his head with a low laugh.

A tiny smidgen of a grin danced on your lips as you considered him. He was your childhood friend. No one knew you better than he did. And he was also the guard most assigned to watch over you and keep you safe from harm.

Despite that, you’d come to notice how much he’d changed. He wasn’t the same Katsuki you grew up knowing and you missed him dearly. Occasions like this, where a part of his guard was let down, were becoming few and far between. There had to be something you could do.

“Let’s make a wager. If you can manage to find me, I’ll do one thing at your command.”

“Challenge accepted.” He reached into the folds of his uniform, pulled out your little novel, and slapped it right into your open palm. "No matter where you run off to, I'll find ya. Trust me on that, princess."

His eyes were like candles in the night, ignited by a spark of passion. Not a single lie could be detected.

"I won't make it easy on you, Katsuki, just so you know."

"Heh, you better not." He sniffed, tucking his hands into his uniform pockets. And with a final half-wave, he was gone.

In and around the capital city, winter had completely lost it's bite. The weather was tepid, swinging a mild breeze that coasted through the countryside. It was the sort of winter where one felt as if woolen clothing were worn more for comfort than necessity. In what should have been the chilliest part of the year, Bakugou found himself traversing one of the many beaches that hedged the southern peninsula.

After a full week following the challenge issued in your bedroom, Bakugou realized you were entirely too good at evading him or any of the other guards at the kingdom’s disposal, for that matter.

Day in and day out, he spent his shifts searching tirelessly for you, just to stumble upon you in the most random of places and only when you had wanted him to find you. The running score was six to five in your favor, but he was determined not to lose to you again.

And there you were, standing at the very edge of the shore, as if a mere thought had manifested you right before his very eyes. Your loose billowing dress of soft satin waved to him like a white flag of surrender in the air. He'd finally found you.

"Not gonna run off this time?"

"Nope! You won this round." Your cheeks creased in a smile.

Given the boots he'd worn, it was no surprise that his feet kept sinking into the sand. You said nothing as he toed off his shoes and socks, bare feet settling into the depths of warm, grainy sand.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. Over the past few months, he’d found himself losing sight of his goals, caught in the dredges of the mundane and routine.

The cool waters lapped at both his and your feet, fizzing and bubbling, leaving behind traces of salt. You went further into the water’s touch, your back to him as the tides licked at the your calves. Even he had to admit, the view was a beautiful one, possibly even more so with you against the backdrop.

“I’m glad you found me,” you called over the cry of seagulls. “For a second, I was worried you’d lose this round.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch, as if I’d ever lose to you, princess.”

“Naturally.” You laughed.

“What the hell are we doing out here anyway?”

He knelt to roll up his pants, a mere moment away from following after you like always.

“I... really just wanted to show you the view. Do you remember when we used to come down here as kids? Remember how we used to dare each other to see who could go the farthest into the ocean?”

Of course he remembered. Those were some of his most cherished memories of his time spent with you before duty to the kingdom took precedent.

You reached a hand out to him, an open invitation. “I just thought you needed a little reminder of what that was like.”

For some reason, Katsuki was determined not to meet your gaze, scowling at some point on the horizon, until you came over and nudged him with your elbow. “It wouldn’t kill you to admit that I’m right.”

With a sigh, he reached over and tugged you into a hug. You snuggled close to his chest, gripping the back on his uniform. It may have been your imagination but you could’ve sworn you felt the soft press of lips against your temple.

“Thanks... you know... for everything.”

Beaming, you leaned back to get the full view of his heated cheeks.

“Of course, of course.”

There was something earnest in his eyes that told you no matter how far you went, or however far you traveled, he’d always be a step behind you. It sent your heart hammering in your ribcage. You were suddenly all too aware of the way he held you secure against him like he would never let go.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You blinked owlishly, taken over by your feelings and mumbling a hushed. “Oh, nothing.” The two of you were just a royal and a guard, bound to one another by duty.

If there could be anything more than that...well, only time would tell.

#pocuties secret santa #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff

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wendimydarling · 4 years

Text

Cover the Mirrors

Summary: Amber is earning a masters degree in mythology and folklore; when a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet, she’s left wondering how, and struggles to keep up with his lifestyle.

Pairing: Vampire!August Walker x OFC (first person reader)

Word Count: 6826

Warnings: Alright, we ready to get into the menu of delights we will be reading today? Okay but seriously, if you are triggered by anything on this list, it is your responsibility to not read this work of fiction. The warnings are as follows: manipulation, subtle exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, mention of oral (male receiving), biting, clawing, choking, blood, male violence, gore, non-con, rape, spitting, fear play, primal play, breeding, mention of death, torture, and potentially cannibalism, if you squint.

A/N: Okay so this story is based off of this thread where @killjoy-assbutt-1112 gave me a fic title, but I added another twist to it that I’d been brewing for months; I was excited about it but now I’m not. Whatever, I’ll give it to you anyway. Sources for my vampire lore came from here and here. Cover art was made by me; August was drawn by the amazingly talented @cheyentjj and has been used with her permission. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed with me, and a special thanks to @agniavateira for betaing!

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death.

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.”

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already.

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet.

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me.

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls.

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

Read on AO3.

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fan fiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fan fic #august walker smut #vampire!august #non-con tw

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

Note

Hi, I really love your writing on Ao3! I was wondering if you could write an Adachi x reader where Adachi slips it in while reader is sleeping? Maybe halfway through being fucked reader wakes up but pretends to be asleep anyway because they are enjoying it? I imagine that they'd probably already have a preexisting sexual relationship and have talked about the sex that they are okay with (that could be a creative choice for you tho idc. manipulative adachi sexy). best wishes!

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page)

Here you are, anon! This one really struck a cord with me, and I knew I had to fill it, eventually.

Summary

Adachi gives Reader a pleasant morning surprise to indulge a desire they previously confessed to him.

Tags/Warnings

Biting, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Hair-Pulling, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Somnophilia, Vaginal Sex

Rise & Shine (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

The early rays of morning scattered through the window blinds, bathing the otherwise dark bedroom in pale stripes of yellow and gold. The cloying spring heat had yet to creep in, some remnant of the coolness of night lingering, lending a refreshing feeling, rather than one hot and clinging. Tohru Adachi stirred on the bedsheets of the mattress next to the mostly shuttered window.

He started to disentangle himself lazily from the light sheets, but stopped. A look of confusion spread across his face when he noted sitting up wasn’t as easy as it should have been, the cause your prone form tucked so securely against him. He remembered falling asleep at your apartment after some drinks at Shiroku and a couple rounds of fun, but you had fallen asleep with ample distance between you. Adachi decided you must have unconsciously snugged up to him while the both of you slept.

Though he was confused, that didn’t mean Adachi wasn’t exactly displeased. Neither of you had bothered to re-dress at all before passing out the night before. That left you naked, pressed against him, at least before he tried to extricate himself from your grasp. His eyes roved unchastely over your bare skin, exposed where the sheets rode down past your hips. Lying flat on your stomach after he had escaped your cuddling, your arms splayed on the pillows, legs spread haphazardly. He eyed the swell of your chest pressing into the soft mattress and the tantalizing curve of your ass, his gaze lingering as his hunger was roused.

In that moment, Adachi recalled a conversation that had taken place between the two of you not long ago. You had opened up to him a little with your fantasies and wants, admitting with a thoroughly hot face and hushed tone how badly you wanted him to use you. You hadn’t described exactly how, though, only that your desire for him to use your body however he pleased existed. He remembered how excited the confession had made him, immediately diving into imaginations of how he planned to take you up on it. Somehow, though, the thought had slipped his mind until that instant.

The gears were turning in his head, and Adachi’s lips curled in a sinful, lecherous grin as he came to a decision. What better way to grant your wishes and use you only for his pleasure than to fuck you while you slept, when he had little reason to worry about your satisfaction or concerns. His cock jerked to life at the thought, and his mind was made up.

He drew the sheets the rest of the way off, flinging them to the side where they would remain unwanted and forgotten for some time. The full sight of your body laid out nude before him met him, and another punch of hunger seized him, his reacting in along with it. For a second, Adachi wondered if you would even notice. He couldn’t remember if you were a light sleeper who woke at even a hardly intrusive touch, or if you slept like the dead and would drowse through it all. But he was going to find out very soon. =============================================

It was the touch of something solid and cool between your legs that eased you from the warm, comfortable haze of sleep. It prodded at the soft pink of your cunt before slipping inside with little resistance. At first, you thought you were having some kind of vivid wet dream, but you recognized the strange dark line of half-consciousness, so it was no dream. Something had buried itself inside your cunt, wet and welcoming even while you dozed. The sensation of whatever it was wriggled and curled, easing in and out for a moment before withdrawing altogether.

The thick fog of sleep threatened to lure you back into its clutches with the retreat of whatever had been intruding; you had nearly convinced yourself even if it wasn’t a dream, you had imagined it. Just a figment of your muddled, half-asleep mind. But whatever it was returned, clamping over your thighs and carefully prying them apart to spread your legs wider. The tip of something far more hot and hard poked at your slick lips, the sensation giving your growing consciousness a jolt. You froze, making yourself remain still despite coming further to, and the thick intrusion sank past your lips and your entrance.

A low, blissful groan caught your attention when the hardness filled you completely, and your cunt clenched reflexively around it. Several debauched noises longed to free themselves from your throat at the aching fullness, but you quashed them, forcing yourself to feign sleep. The groan no doubt belonged to the man you had fallen asleep beside the night before, there was no denying that. You were led to a conclusion even your hazy mind could make: Adachi was the one buried deep inside your cunt, basking in the tight embrace of your soft, wet flesh around his cock.

The realization didn’t alarm or upset you, though. In fact, it only made your cunt feel wetter, and your walls tightened around him again, eliciting another erotic, gravelly noise from Adachi, A wicked heat blossomed in your gut and made your heart drum in your chest, your pulse beginning to race. It almost embarrassed you how much being fucked while you ‘slept’ turned you on, and you wondered fleetingly if he noticed how readily your body responded to him. Would he think nothing of it and just assume you were still dreaming and none the wiser?

Any thoughts were drowned out, though, when Adachi’s hips pulled back and he thrust back into your heat, the start of a steady rhythm. He rocked his hips languidly against your backside, obviously in no rush. A series of small, carnal, and oh-so-arousing sounds drifted from his lips as he pumped his cock in and out of your core. Sounds quiet enough that if you had really been asleep, you doubted you would have noticed at all. You struggled not to react too noticeably to them or from the roll of his hips. But you couldn’t help squirming here and there, a muffled, sleepy whimper escaping every once in a while. You hoped Adachi chalked them up to simply unconscious and involuntary reactions.

Whatever the case, your wriggling and tiny, nearly incoherent gasps and murmurs spurred Adachi onward, and his pace increased, fucking you more thoroughly into the bed. Each deep thrust made you want to swoon and melt and moan. The weight of Adachi’s body pressed into your back, his skin already growing slick with beads of sweat, radiating heat against you.

“Y’know,” he growled casually in your ear, “you’re a really bad actor.” His pace didn’t stop, and he his came to tangle in the sheets beside your shoulders, giving him more leverage to pound into your cunt more roughly.

You ignored him, unsure if he knew you were awake and was telling the truth, of if he was searching for some kind of conscious reaction to find out. Things were too enjoyable though to let them end so easily. Until Adachi could prove you were awake, you were more than pleased to let him have his way with you.

A moment of silence punctuated only by the sounds of sex passed, and then a low, contemplative hum droned beside you. “Well, I guess if you’re really sleeping through this, I can do whatever I want,” he said coyly, and to some it might have sounded almost like a threat. Right then, to you, it was a sinful promise you silently bade him to fulfill.

His hips snapped harder against you, and it was even more of a struggle to fight back the noises that wanted to break free, each thrust so deep it provoked a guttural response. He adjusted himself, tilting his hips and pressing his body more firmly against yours. You didn’t know if it was out of mere convenience for him, or on purpose to overwhelm you and shatter your charade, but the new angle brought on a greater ordeal.

Each rough stroke of his cock, besides sinking so deep, brushed against a much more receptive spot that made your gut twist in a distinctly pleasant way. You tried to disguise the way you turned your head to push it into the pillows as an unconscious reaction, though you unsure how long Adachi would continue to buy your act, if he didn’t already know the truth.

Each time he drove back inside, you lost more resolve to keep pretending, and to disguise and smother your moans and the way your body so badly wanted to meet his thrusts. The molten feeling that had grown in your belly served only to weaken you further, welling up inside and proving more demanding and wild than the sounds of pleasure seeking escape.l

You pressed your face into the pillows more as a particularly stubborn moan bubbled up, much louder than any of the others, trying in vain to stifle it. Though as soon as the sound left your lips, smothered as it was, your little game of pretend was over. A rough hand tangled in your hair, grabbing tightly and jerking your head back and away from the pillows. Your new position left you no choice but to moan freely into the air, already hot and thick with sex and sweat. The stubborn moan seemed like the bursting of a dam, and there was no stopping the myriad cries that followed it.

“Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Adachi hissed in your ear, amused and breathless. “Pretending you had no idea what I was doing and getting off on being treated like the little cock sleeve you wanted to be?”

With your act revealed, you had no reason to try to fool Adachi any longer. You gave into the carnal heat swelling inside you, crying out and finally slamming your hips back to meet his. “Fuck, yes! Use me, please,” you begged, and Adachi’s stinging grip in your hair tightened reflexively. “I want to be your plaything; use me however you want!” your voice broke with your admission, shattered by a stroke that stole your breath away and made your made briefly go blank.

The words were a catalyst, stoking Adachi’s already boiling lust to even greater heights. He rutted harder against you, feeling the urgency of an orgasm dawning on him, your shameless enthusiasm speeding it along. He relished the outpouring of bawdy shouts and moans bubbling from your mouth now that he had called your bluff. His fingered remained snared in your hair, pulling your head back almost painfully and ensuring there was no chance to muffle a single sound more.

You could feel Adachi’s desperation mounting behind each thrust, even through the lingering haze of sleep clouding your awareness. You felt it in the tension of his body, pushing yours so forcefully into the bed, and in his fingers, both in your hair and on your skin. But you were already ahead of him. The sheer excitement of being fucked in such an obscene fashion made your body tense and burn white hot. Each time Adachi filled you up again, it forced another cry from your lips, and the liquid heat wound tighter and more intense.

Your breathing hitched, becoming quickly ragged and sharp, and Adachi’s was just as labored in your ear. You bucked back against him mindlessly, seeking the last little push you needed and thinking of nothing else. When you came, his named rolled off your tongue in waves, interrupted by moans that pitched more desperate and airy as he fucked you through your orgasm.

He bent his head, and his teeth scraped the nape of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he could find to leave a colorful, stinging mark. The sharp sensations added to the ripples of pleasure dancing through you, and your voice cracked in your ecstasy. His tempo slowed, gaining force where it lost momentum, until the smack of his skin on yours was clear even through the chorus of groans and cries ringing out. When he finished, he bit down again, harder, so hard a moan turned into a brief yelp, even though he hadn’t broken the skin.

With each spurt of his cum that filled you, Adachi groaned, long and low, the noise feral and thick. The sounds made you shudder, and your cunt squeeze him tighter, even though your orgasm was wearing away and coming to an end. Finally, Adachi was spent, and you were left sweat-slicked and nearly panting, his grasp on your hair loosening. You couldn’t think beyond the feel of him still sheathed in your cunt, or the sound of his heavy breathing beside you. Even smothered beneath his weight, your mind had room only for the pleasures of the afterglow.

You rested limp and pliant against the bedsheets as Adachi released your hair, and when you lay your head on the pillows again, they felt blissfully cool. You were too tired and out-of-sorts to move when Adachi withdrew, vaguely noting the sensation of something warm and thick trickling down your thighs.Adachi didn’t bother laying back in bed, instead rolling to the side and getting to his feet. You summoned the energy to roll over and watch him as he went about getting cleaned up before searching for his clothes and re-dressing.

After several minutes, Adachi had sorted himself out and made himself presentable - or at least what counted as presentable for detective with his routinely messy hair, crumpled clothes, and crooked tie. By then, you had regained steady breathing, watching him lazily and propping yourself up on your elbow. He took one last glance over himself, patting the pockets of his slacks for his phone and keys and ensuring he hadn’t forgotten anything, Satisfied everything was accounted for, he walked to the beside, bending down and taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger before tipping your head to meet his gaze.

“I’ve gotta get going now, sweetheart. Be good while I’m gone and maybe I’ll indulge more of your sick little fantasies the next time I come over,” he promised, punctuating his words with a kiss. It was a gesture that might have seemed sweet or affectionate, were it not for the sharp, hungry bite he left on your bottom lip.

Then, he was gone without another word, leaving you with a burning face, an aching cunt oozing cum, and many angry marks that would soon turn various shades of blue and purple. Yet, you were left also with a bone-deep sense of satisfaction that outweighed everything else. You slid back down onto the bed, recounting what had just happened. Even just the memory sent your arousing spiralling out of control all over again.

It was going to be torture waiting for the next time you could get together.

#writing #fanfiction #tohru adachi #persona 4 #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Note

Ahhh, if it's not too much trouble, can you do another part to that pervy sero post where he makes the reader watch porn and stuff, but this time like... fully forces himself onto reader to make sure sure learns abt the stuff he forces her to watch, or maybe he gets kaminari to join in to prove how "normal" it is for friends to watch porn together? Thank you so much!!

Hi!!! bro of course I can!

Prelude - Sero is saved the trouble of thinking up an excuse to get reader to come “hang out” with him because reader gets some bad anxiety the second he approaches her! I tried to make it clear that reader is like HECKA anxious but doesn’t realize it cause sometimes!!! you aren’t able to tell!!! and if your partner is a specific breed of awful, they’ll take your hesitance and vulnerability and swoop in and coerce you into doing something you aren’t sure about. Also, Sero knows a lot about sex and is manipulating reader and giving her false information. Don’t be like Sero.

Prompt - above babeyyy

Pairings - Sero Hanta X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, coercion, dub con, non con. Sero is a manipulative little bitch.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/7po7c8LzxTZ0ybU41qT5gD?si=5a1Bo4SURJmaQGw-gky-kA

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“Hey, (Y/N)!”

You ignored the cheerful voice calling your name, continued walking through the crowd of students towards your next class, backpack slung over your shoulder.

“(Y/N)! Wait up!”

You knew who the voice belonged to. You knew Sero was just going to ask you to hang out in his room after class, or wanted to show you another inappropriate picture or video off one of the lewd sites he frequents. If you were unlucky, he’d pull you away from class, make up some stupid excuse and beg for you to come hang out with him cause he’s “lonely” and needs a friend.

Ever since he had you jerk him off (over his boxers) in his room, you’d avoided your friend like the plague. You felt so awkward around him now, embarrassed in his presence. You really felt uncomfortable spending time with him, even when the rest of your friend group was present. He had said it was a normal thing for friends to do, that he and Denki watched porn together all the time.

Still, you just felt…. Well, weird. The whole situation was weird and you preferred not to think about it, to just avoid Sero and keep your head down, focus on school and training and your other friends.

Sero had other plans.

A hand grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around to face , almost throwing you off balance.

“Why’re you ignoring me? I called your name like, six times bro.” Sero pouted down at you, eyes big and round and you could already tell he was going to guilt you into doing something you’d rather not.

Taking a deep breath, you forced a quick smile on your face, before answering your friend.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Aw, it’s fine.” He patted your shoulder, before guiding you (pushing you) to the side of the hallway, out of the general traffic of the other students. “Anyways, I’ve missed you. I feel like we haven’t been able to hang out, y’know… just the two of us.”

He hadn’t removed his hand from your shoulder, soothingly rubbing his thumb over your uniform. It was hard to focus on what he was saying while he was touching you, while he was pressing you closer to the wall, shielding you from the throng of other students with his body. It was so loud, everyone talking to their friends, talking about homework and the upcoming math test and-

“Are you okay dude? You seem kind of…. Out of it.”

You were kind of breathing hard, and your stomach felt bad. It hadn’t before? Maybe you were coming down with something. You shrugged, trying to knock his hand off your shoulder. His dimpled smile faltered as he drew back, giving your body a concerned once-over.

“Actually, I don’t feel too good right now Sero… I think I’m gonna go see the nurse.” Before you could push past him and head for the nurse, Sero grabbed your hand, putting his other hand up to your forehead. His skin was cool, soft, fingers long as they pressed to check your temperature.

“Hm, you don’t have a fever. You probably just ate something bad at lunch. I have Tums in my room, c’mon, they’ll help you feel better!” The male grabbed your wrist, tugged you away from the wall, hesitating when you dug your heels in, reluctant to go with him.

“Ah, that’s okay!” You sputtered, “I have class and I don’t wanna miss it, and uh, I don’t know what “Tums” are, and my mom told me I should try to stay away from medicine cause-“

Sero’s abrupt laugh cut into your rambling, and you stopped talking, looking up at your friend in confusion.

“Tums are antacids that help settle upset tummies dude! I take them sometimes after I smoke a bit too much.” He winked at you, dimples showing as he smiled.

“Plus class is gonna start any second now, you’d be late anyways. Might as well skip.”

The bell rang.

You fidgeted, looking around at the now-empty hall, not realizing that the other students had slowly dissipated, filing into their respective classrooms. Sero was right, you didn’t feel feverish, you just felt nauseous and shaky. Maybe taking an antacid would help? Sero was your friend, he was just looking out for you, it wouldn’t hurt to skip class and hang out in his room, would it?

Your stomach twinged, and another wave of nausea bubbled up inside of you. That made up your mind.

“Alright, fine. But if I get in trouble, it’s your fault!” You conceded, smiling as Sero pumped his fist in the air.

“Yeah! Hangout time!”

“But -“ You paused, biting your lip. This was an awkward thing to say to him would he think you’re a bad friend? “Can you uh… well, can you not do anything like….. weird?”

You hoped he knew what you meant by “weird”.

“Weird” was touching your friends in intimate places, or having them touch you.

“Weird” was watching porn together, asking your friends which part they thought was the sexiest. “Weird” was the feeling that arose whenever Sero approached you, the sinking of your stomach, the gross taste in your mouth, the cold sweat that broke out whenever he asked if you wanted to “relieve some stress” with him.

“Of course, I’d never do /anything/ to you that you wouldn’t like. I’m your friend, (Y/N), and friends take care of each other.” Sero assured you, letting go of your wrist to give your shoulder a reassuring pat. You exhaled in relief, smiling back at him, before Sero started moving again, motioning for you to follow him. “Now, let’s go get to helping you feel better.”

——

Sero pulled open his desk drawer, urging you to “Go ahead and get comfortable man” with a gentle nod of his head towards the bed. You let your backpack slip to the floor, sighing when the heavy weight left your shoulders. Sero hadn’t made his bed that morning, but you figured he probably hadn’t been expecting company.

Smoothing out the blankets, you took a seat, watching your black-haired friend sift through his desk drawers, looking for the antacid tablets he had promised.

A triumphant “Aha!” signaled that he had found them, holding the little bottle up high as he turned towards you. But the male didn’t offer you the bottle, nor open it to measure out the tablets for you. He shook it, but there was no familiar noise of pills rattling inside, instead the two of you were met with silence.

“Aw, shit, I’m sorry (Y/N). I guess I used them all up.” The empty bottle was placed on the desk. “But I have another idea that might work, if you’d like to try it?”

You shrugged, hand coming to poke at your stomach “It’s okay, don’t worry. I can just go to the nurse-“

“C’mon, that’s on the other side of campus. You really gonna walk all that way? Let me help you out.”

“Really, I’ll be oka-“

“Naw, I found something you’ll probably like - It’s a good flavor.”

You could do nothing but blink at your friend as he plopped down beside you on the bed. He was holding a bottle, one that looked almost like faceewash? But he had said it was a good flavor - did he want you to eat it? You summed all your thoughts up eloquently -“What the fuck is that?”

Sero shook the bottle before he popped open the top, squeezing a gelatinous goop onto his pointer finger.

“It’s just something that tastes good, y’know? Like uh,” He thought for a second “Jelly! Or like a Gogurt but less sweet. Might help your stomach to settle down.”

Of course Sero would still eat Gogurts. He probably had a stash of them somewhere that he saved for after he smoked, when he got - you had learned from Mina what it was called - the munchies. He offered his pointer finger, obviously wanting you to taste the goop; you did nothing but stare at it.

“Don’t be like that, c’mon, try it! It’s good, I promise.”

You weren’t swayed by his playful urging. And you definitely weren’t going to lick that stuff (whatever it was) off of Sero’s finger. Realizing you had no plans to move, Sero sighed, before bringing his finger up to his mouth and popping the digit in to suck off the gel.

“I swear it tastes good, you’ll like it. Here, give me your hand?”

The goop was room temperature, thick, kind of like aloe vera. You brought your hand up to your face, touching your thumb to your pointer finger to feel the gel Sero had squirted onto your finger. It smelled faintly like artificial strawberries, a bit too sweet and unnatural, similar to the fake strawberry scent of a bad candle. You tried not to wrinkle your nose. Hesitantly, you swiped a bit of the gel off your finger with your tongue, smacking your lips together as you savored the flavor.

“Haha, I was right, wasn’t I?” Sero laughed as you licked the rest of the sweetness off your finger, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Yeah, so shut up, you Gogurt eating baby.”

Sero rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him. “I knew you were gonna bring that up! Let it go man, Gogurts absolutely rock.”

You ignored his statement, eagerly sticking your hand out so Sero could give you more of the gel. Despite its suspiciously artificial smell, the gel actually wasn’t too bad. A surprise, but a welcome one nonetheless. Sero held out his hand.

“Ah, wait, I wanna try something.”

With a questioning look in your eyes, you watched Sero toss the bottle to his side, watched the male scoot backwards, spread out his legs. He reached for his pants, started unzipping them, and that’s when it clicked.

“Sero, I can’t believe you, again? This is so weird and so gross, I’m not touching your penis. It was fucking awkward the first time, and I’m not doing it again. Go find some other girl to - to do whatever it is you’re doing!”

Outburst finished, you huffed, cheeks flaming, ready to grab your backpack and stomp out of his room. The nauseous feeling was back, your stomach tight and legs wobbly.

Sero burst out laughing.

“Jesus (Y/N), do you even pay attention to the videos I send you? I mean, “penis”, really?? No one calls it that except for like, sex ed teachers or weird perverts.” You sputtered in indignation, irritated firstly at his nonchalant manner, secondly by the round-about way the male accused you of being a pervert.

Before you had a chance to open your mouth to defend your word choice, Sero continued.

“I thought it was clear “what I was doing” when I brought out the lube. It’s like you’re not even trying to get comfortable with sex stuff. I’ve been putting all this effort into being a good friend, trying to make sure you won’t get made fun of for being a prude. I help you not look like an idiot when you don’t know what Denki’s saying when he talks about how his latest lay could deep throat. I’ve offered to teach you how to kiss like, a thousand times. Seriously, I’m just trying to help you out, and you’re acting like I’m trying to hurt you.” Sero buried his head in his hands.

“I…… That’s not….” You trail off, distinctly reminded of the last time you were in his room, when you hadn’t known what to say and ended up with your hand on Sero’s crotch; the ravenette talking you through what was happening in the porn he was having you watch. It hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been informative. You hadn’t learned much, but you knew what anal was now, so…. there’s that.

“I’m doing my best to help you learn this stuff, but if you won’t even look at the videos I send…”

You knew Sero was just trying to look out for you, but you don’t remember ever asking him to teach you about sex. You weren’t sure you wanted him to.

“Look, Sero… I just feel like this is a bit too much. I don’t wanna…. Well, I don’t want to…. y’know…”

“Fuck? You aren’t ready to get fucked so good you cry? I get that.” Sero interjected, meeting your eyes with a smirk before you could look away. “It’s really intimidating your first time, but I wasn’t going for that.”

You lifted your head. “You weren’t?” He had been unzipping his pants, what else could he have been getting ready to do? It’s not like hanging out with a friend required nudity. At least, in your experience.

“Of course not, I know you couldn’t handle something like that.”

That stung. Did Sero think you were weak? What even was going on - he was sweet one second, and then almost mean the next. Backhanded comments and rude suggestions, you wished he was teasing. Maybe you were reading this wrong, and he was just teasing you? Him and Denki got a kick out of flustering you when the three of you met, and every time they ran into you after that, even after you joined their friend group.

“I was gonna show you how blowjobs work, and it’ll be easy since you like the taste of the lube.”

Appalled, you jerked away from your friend, eyes widening. “Woah, woah, I just said I don’t want-“

“-To fuck, I heard you.” Sero assured you. “But this is - it’s not even sex, it’s a blowjob. C’mon, it’ll be okay, blowjobs are easy.”

He was grabbing the bottle (which you now knew held lube) and shuffling his pants down, along with his boxers. You didn’t have time to protest before his cock was out, twitching in the cool air of his room. Sero hissed at the temperature difference of the lube as he squirted a generous amount of it into his palm, wrapping his hand around the reddened shaft.

A few quick strokes left his length glistening, covered in the gel, applied so generously that a few drops rolled down, dripped onto the wiry black pubes at the base. Sero licked his palm messily, doing a poor job of cleaning off the excess lube, urging you to crawl forward and kneel between his spread legs.

“Here, see? It’s fine. We’re not even gonna think about deepthroating or face-fucking, alright? You go at your own pace.”

You felt sick. But it’s not like Sero was forcing you to do this - he wasn’t shouting or holding you down; his posture was relaxed, easy smile showing off his dimples. You didn’t like the sound of “facefucking”, and you knew what deepthroating was, and you were relieved Sero didn’t expect that of you. Taking a deep breath, you scooted forward, pausing before any part of you came into contact with the black-haired male.

“I don’t know…. What….?” You whispered, afraid of your own voice. You were blushing so hard, you wanted to cover your face, but that would just draw more attention to the fact that you were beyond embarrassed, flushed and sheepish. You’d really rather not do any of this, but Sero was right - it wasn’t sex, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Just one friend helping out another, right?

“Just start out slow, y’know? Try to lick all the lube off.”

His suggestion seemed easy enough, so you leaned forward, darting your tongue out to hesitantly lap at his cock. You were met with the pleasant taste of the lube, able to detect an underlying flavor of salty sweat. It wasn’t horrible.

You grew bolder, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to lick broad stripes up the shaft, making Sero groan and fist his hands into the blankets by his hips. The sound made your insides twist, but you were fine - this was fine.

“Aw, you’re doing good. Mm - you can try putting a little bit in your mouth if you want. But watch your teeth, dicks are sensitive okay?”

You put the tip into your mouth, trying to make sure your teeth didn’t scrape or bite. Running your tongue around the squishy glans, you jumped when you felt Sero’s hand on your head. But he didn’t grab, push you down further or hold you in place. The ravenette let his hand smooth over your hair soothingly, petting at your head they way one would pet a cat.

“Fuck, can you - can you try sucking on it? That’s how you give a real blowjob.”

It was hard not to gag, hard to draw your thoughts away from what you were doing with your mouth and the soft, tight skin you were rubbing with your tongue. It felt weird, you felt weird, and you weren’t sure it was in a good way. But you wanted to try your best, not leave Sero hanging. You remember what he had said last time about teasing bitches, and you were afraid he might think you were leading him on if you stopped now..

Breathing through your nose, you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight suction around the head of Sero’s cock. When you sucked, his dick jumped (it was hard to keep your mouth wrapped tight around his dick - you hadn’t been expecting it to move), and Sero patted your head softly.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep going.”

You did, rhythmically sucking at the glans, rubbing your tongue around the spongy head, popping off occasionally to lick up your excess saliva before it could roll too far down his length. Sero became increasingly more vocal, low moans and blissful sighs leaving his lips in between his gentle instructions.

“You, ah, you remember what we did last time? When you used your hand?”

Drawing back, you nodded. “A hand job.”

“Mmhm, good job. Do that around the part that’s not in your mouth, yeah?”

Tentatively, you wrapped your hand around the base, cringing at the slick feeling of too much lube and your own saliva. You gave the shaft a long, slow stroke, before fitting your mouth over the top again, suckling hard.

Sero let out a throaty groan, encouraging you to move faster, tighten your grip just a bit, suck a little bit more of his length into your mouth. His cock jumped again, once, twice - and then warmth spurted out of the tip.

You gagged immediately and pulled your mouth back and off his length. Before you could remove your hand, Sero trapped it under his own, using your palm to jack himself through his orgasm, abs tight and head tilted back, his dark eyes closed in bliss.

When you had given him a handjob for the first time, the male had cum, but the mess was (mostly) contained by his boxer briefs.

Thick streams of whiteish fluid (cum, you knew from the few videos that Sero had forced you to watch) streamed out from the tip, slowly bubbling over and coating your conjoined hands, making everything even messier.

Sero gradually released your hand, letting you pull back from his body, trying not to cringe in disgust at the stickiness covering your hand. You wanted to wipe it off, clean up - now that Sero had orgasmed you were going to run to the locker rooms and scrub yourself in a hot shower.

But as Sero panted, uncaring of the mess dripping to his sheets, he caught your gaze with his own, giving you a lopsided grin. “That was really good (Y/N), you’re a natural.”

The praise reached your ears, but you didn’t feel the little spike of pride that you normally associated with being complimented.

“Uh… Thanks, I guess.”

Sero reached over to his nightstand, snagging a pocket-pack of tissues, pulling out a few for himself, tossing one to you. You scrubbed at your cum-covered hand, sopping up the mess before lobbing the soiled tissue into the wastebasket by his desk.

“Okay, um - I’m gonna go now, I guess I’ll see you later.”

How did one leave gracefully after such an exchange?

Sero’s hand shot out (thankfully now clean) and grabbed your ankle, swiftly pulling you towards him across the bed, causing you to fall onto your back, squeaking in shock.

“Hold on! You’ve got me off twice now, it’s bad etiquette if I didn’t try to return the favor.”

“No! No, really, I’m okay!” You held out your hands, leg wriggling to free yourself from his grasp. “I don’t mind, it’s okay!”

Sero cocked his hand, slowly beginning to rub his hand up and down your calf, in a mockery of a massage. “I know you’re okay, I want to make you feel great. I’m good at this next part.”

He winked, the hand not rubbing your calf coming to pull at your school skirt, flipping it up to reveal your panties. You whined, trying to push it back down, cover yourself, but Sero clicked his tongue, easily batting your hands away.

“Don’t be shy baby, you got nothing to hide.”

“Sero, this is really making me uncomfortable - I don’t -“

“Shh, hey, you know I would never hurt you. I’m your friend, and I only want what’s best for you.”

Your panic was rising, blooming in your chest like a heavy flower, petals dropping and falling to your stomach to dissolve into acid that boiled into nausea. But that was just nerves, right?

Sweat was already pooling on your back, slicking up your hands, making your hair cling to your forehead.

Sero was your friend, but this was starting to feel a little unfriendly. But you didn’t have time to think when his hands were pulling down your panties, exposing your cunt to his hungry gaze.

“Damn, you’re real pretty.”

You squirmed, opened your mouth to protest, but Sero was hefting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up for easier access to your folds. He was going too fast, this was all going too fast and you couldn’t-

Long fingers swiped along the outside of your pussy, sending a twinge of sensation (pleasure?) up into your tummy. They stroked up and down, spread your folds, tapped around the puffy pink skin until they came in contact with your clit. With a gasp, your hips involuntarily bucked, chasing the sensation. Sero grinned at you.

“See? It only gets better. Let me take care of yo, it’ll all be okay.”

His fingers continued to pet you, slowly collecting wetness as it seeped out of your pussy, shame coloring your cheeks and making your arms curl across your chest, as if to hold yourself. Sero didn’t seem to mind, not when he was so focused on touching you.

He used his other hand to pat around the bedspread, looking for the lube he had so carelessly dropped earlier. When he found it, you heard the cap flick open, and then the cold gel was squirted onto the top of your slit. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to keep your hips from jumping forward when Sero massaged the lube onto your pussy, using three fingers to smush and spread the lube around.

It felt exquisite.

Your thighs were tensing, short, little spasms of the muscle each time his fingers came into contact with your clit, and you could feel your pussy pulsing, oozing out wetness. Breathing shakily, you whined when Sero traced a single finger around your hole, teasing.

“I’m gonna finger you open, alright? You look so sexy like this, letting me make you feel good.”

His finger entered you slowly, a long, steady press. It was uncomfortable, but not exactly unpleasant, and smooth due to the lube. You wanted him to wait, to let you adjust to the intense sensation, gather your senses, but the ravenette kept steady, drawing his finger out at the same pace before pushing it back in.

Sero’s thumb rubbed at your clit, swiping back and forth, smushing the little nub and making you (to your embarrassment) moan. It felt good, the nausea in your stomach fading as the pleasure built.

Next thing you knew, Sero was fucking you with two fingers, then three, increasing the pace on each addition. Your hips were bucking wildly, thrusting down each time his fingers pushed up, fucking yourself on his long, slim digits.

“Sero, Sero, ah, ah-“

You cried, and your friend swore under his breath, before his hand left your cunt empty. Opening your eyes, you barely had time to look at the male questioningly before he was grabbing your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach. You squirmed, able to feel your hole clenching and unclenching rhythmically - you felt unusually empty.

“Sero?”

Something hard and hot was pressed against you, Sero leaning over you, his legs on either side of your own as he pulled your hips up and back, putting you on your knees.

“Calm down, I’m only gonna put in the tip. It’s not sex, no need to worry.”

The tip?

You realized what was happening, why he turned you over, what was pressing up against your folds, what the male mean’t by “just the tip”

“Wait!!-“ You thrashed, breathing heavily, clawing at the sheets to pull yourself forward, away, anywhere but pressed up against your friend.

But Sero was stronger than you, had your hips in a bruising grip as he pressed forward, his cock breaching your hole. He kept you still as he thrust shallowly, keeping to his promise of “just the tip”.

It was bigger than his three fingers had been, and the stretch burned. It quickly simmered to a slow build of pleasure in your tummy, ramping up when a hand snaked around your hip, coming to roll and pinch and slap at your clit gently.

“Sero!” Whining, you couldn’t stop your hips from moving, pushing back towards that delicious friction against your clit, the gentle thrusts just barely entering your cunt. You didn’t want him to go any further, but your body craved for more.

The male seemed to sense this, or maybe he was just too wound up, but on his next thrust, he went too far inside, kept on going, pressing, rutting inside your until he was buried to the hilt.

Sero had officially gone too far.

“This is-“ you gasped as he rubbed your clit feverishly, interrupting your thoughts., distracting you from the burning stretch of his entire cock being plunged into you. It was a struggle to regain them again. “Sero this is too-too far. It’s wrong! Stop!”

He laughed, his throaty voice trailing off into a groan.

“If it’s so wrong, why are you about to cum? Girls can’t cum if they don’t want it.”

Horrifingly, he was right - you were about to cum. The pleasure was building and rising, it wouldn’t stop. You had no time to breathe, or to even cry as Sero began hammering into your cunt, energetic, chasing after his own pleasure while speeding you towards your own.

Each thrust hit deep, his hips twisting on each thrust so his cock /swirled/ up against your walls as he pushed into you. It was entirely too much, and yet he wouldn’t stop. He was moaning and swearing behind you, puncturing each push of his hips with a “so good baby” or “your pussy is so tight, fuck.”.

You didn’t know what to focus on.

Sero shifted, and his next thrust hit something deep inside of you, and you couldn’t help but wail as you came. Sero groaned as your pussy squeezed him tightly, his thrusts increasing in speed until he pulled out, furiously jacking his cock over your back.

You barely even flinched when you felt warmth drip onto your skin, where your shirt had ridden up.

No longer held up by Sero’s strong arms, you collapsed forward onto his bed, confused, relaxed, filled with countless emotions that you couldn’t even begin to identify. Sero flopped down beside you, utterly spent, panting heavily. There was silence between the two of you as your breathing evened, coming down from your high. You felt exhausted.

“Sex feels really good, doesn’t it?” Sero broke the silence, reaching over to rub your shoulder. “I’m sorry about going so deep, guess I got kinda caught up in the moment, y’know?”

You didn’t.

At this point, you didn’t even know what to feel.

Didn’t even know what to do.

#yandere oneshot #yandere sero hanta #Sero Hanta #sero x reader #yandere #yandere boku no hero academia #sero #manipulation #tw dubcon #tw coercion #don't like don't read #nasty

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

New Angel - Chapter 15

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4 ☆ chapter 5 ☆ chapter 6 ☆ chapter 7 ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.8k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

"So, today's your day, what do we do?" Millie asked as I was driving.

Once again, I had picked her up at her job and I glanced at her, noticing her head was leaned on the bench and she was staring at me. i sent her a small smile and barely had time to see her raise her eyebrows before I put my eyes back on the road.

It was only the second day of our week and I was already feeling better. When I woke up, I felt my heart twist in my chest because of how nervous I was but I decided to focus on the things I'd do with Millie later in the day and I felt better. If I had known someone like Millie could bring me my smile back and would be so entertaining, I would have tried to get closer to her before, even if she annoyed the shit out of me.

"I don't like that look." Millie continued, making me chuckle.

"Don't worry, it's nothing extreme or bad. And after that, we can go out for ice cream, what do you say?"

She remained silent for a while and I finally parked the car and undid my belt.

"Mm, I'm getting out of my routine for you, Horan." she pointed out, her eyebrows raised again but this time, in a suspicious way. "So it better not be golf or any other sport."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask you to work out or run." I reassured her, my lips curling in an amused smile. "Although I admit I'm quite curious of how good you are at golf."

"I suck. Just like all the other sports."

I chuckled and she followed me upstairs. I told her to wait for me in the living room and disappeared in the hall to reach my bedroom. When I came back, her lips parted slightly and she let out a low chuckle.

"You don't really expect me to play guitar, do you?"

"My student of today canceled. I thought it could be a nice thing to do together." I replied, shrugging a shoulder. "I can show you a few things, I'm not bad of a teacher you know?"

She stared at me for a few seconds and finally moved her head and rolled her eyes, a smile spreading on her lips. "Alright, but don't laugh at me!"

"I promise."

She ended up being actually quite good even if sometimes, she didn't hold the strings hard enough, and after about half an hour, she could play a few chords. I was quite impressed at how fast she was learning and it made me want to take her as a regular student.

"Okay, bring your fingers up." I said gently, staring at her hand. "No, here."

I moved her fingers up, letting them slide on the string, and pressed my finger against hers to help before placing her other fingers on the other strings.

"Okay, perfect."

She moved her head down sliding, staring at her fingers as she played, and my lips curled a bit on the left when she started nibbling on her bottom lip. It was cute how focused she was and it was a great quality when you wanted to learn just about anything.

"Niall, help me, I feel like it's not the sound it should do."

I blinked a few times, getting out of my thoughts to look back at her fingers again. I moved one of them lightly down and pressed on it but this time, I kept it on hers as she played. She stuck her tongue out as if it could help her concentrate and I chuckled low. She didn't notice, too focused on what she was doing, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"Fuck yes, I got it!" her eyes illuminated and a smile drew itself on her lips as I blinked a few times.

"Okay do it again." I proposed, taking my hand away from hers so she could do it by herself.

She did what I asked and I smiled too when I realized she had actually succeeded it. After an hour and a half. she could play an easy song and I leaned against the couch, my eyebrows raised.

"Wow, you're good, Mill!" I exclaimed as she grinned, getting her back straight with pride.

"You're an amazing teacher, Niall!" she just replied. "How much do you charge to do this once a week?"

"For you? Nothing. It's free."

Her head tilted and her smile turned into a fond one. "Thank you."

I liked thinking that we would spend more time together, and knowing we would always have a specific day and time to meet. I knew that both our heartbreaks were going to be rough times to go through and I liked that we had each other. I knew that at the end of the week I was supposed to make a choice on who I wanted to date between Grace and Summer, but no matter who I was going to pick, there was no way I was going to stop spending time with Millie.

"So let's schedule that every tuesday evening?"

Millie smiled again and nodded firmly. "I'm always here."

---

We walked slowly while eating our ice cream and I breathed in deeply, enjoying the warm air of spring. I put my free hand in my pocket but didn't dare to break the comfortable silence between us. I just kept glancing at Millie from time to time, trying not to bump into anything. She seemed lost in her thoughts and I started wondering if she was thinking about Louis, wondering where he was, and what he was doing. The more I looked at her, the more I realized I wanted her to be happy. If I knew anyone who deserved to be, it was definitely her, and it was a shame that she was so sad and that no one could do anything about it. I felt so powerless and it made me think about my own pain. I shut my eyes for a few seconds, trying to push the sadness deeper in my stomach and took an other bite of ice cream as if it could bury it under.

"You're quiet."

I turned my head to look at my friend who was raising her eyebrows.

"You too."

"Were you thinking about Grace?" she asked in a low tone.

"Not really." I shrugged a shoulder. "Were you thinking about Louis?"

It took her a few seconds to answer but she looked away. "Maybe."

"I want to tell you that you shouldn't think about him, but I know it's not an easy thing to do."

"He's probably with his girlfriend that I don't even know the name of." she added low. Her voice was so sad that I felt my heart sink in my chest.

"Eleanor." I told her in a very low tone. "That's her name."

Millie stopped walking for half a second but then just continued. It made me swallow hard, wondering if maybe I should have kept this information for myself. It's not like she was never going to find out anyway and with the sparkles I had seen in Louis' eyes when he was talking to me about her, I knew she was going to stay for a long time.

Millie pressed her lips together for a few seconds and finally sighed, licking her lips nervously.

"I told you she had a royal name."

It was not the thing I thought she'd say and I chuckled low, remembering that she had actually mentioned that before and that it turned out to be true.

"How long does it take to get over someone?"

This time, my friend stopped walking and turned her head my way. I stopped too and turned around to face her and when she took a step closer, my lips parted slightly.

"It depends."

"It's not the first time I have my heart broken, but damn, this time hurts like hell." I explained, shaking my head. "I know she came back and said she wanted be with me again and that she regretted leaving me, but I can't trust her. She ruined everything between us and honestly, Millie, I am so mad at her. I think I'm even angrier now that she's back, because she literally broke my heart only to come back, as if that's what it took to make her realize that she loved me. As if she couldn't see what she was losing before she pushed me away."

Millie stayed there motionless, just listening to me ranting about my ex girlfriend. I sighed and turned around quickly, throwing what was left of my ice cream in the nearest trash can, and my friend followed me, doing the same. I was about to leave again when she grabbed my wrist and I quickly held my breath.

"She couldn't see it. Clearly. She made a mistake, that's for sure." Millie pointed out with a nod. "It doesn't mean she doesn't love you."

"But that means she could leave again at any time. That means I will always be scared that she'll just break my heart again." I argued. "I'm not sure it's worth it."

"You should write that on the list."

I raised my eyebrows and quickly nodded. We found a bench and sad down together. Millie took a pen out of her purse and handed it to me as I slipped the paper out of my back pocket. I stared at it for a while, re-reading what I wrote about the two girls I was supposed to choose from, but I was not sure how to words things.

'I can't trust her' is the first thing I quickly scribbled before sighing and adding 'she broke my heart' right under it. I was about to fold the paper again but Millie gently placed her hand on it, making me look up in her eyes. She moved a bit closer, so close I could see the golden lines that looked like lightning bolts around her pupils.

"I think you need to also write something in the 'pros', don't you think?" she whispered.

I stared at her a few more seconds and finally wrote the first good thing under Grace's name. I could feel my hand shake very lightly as I moved my pen on the paper and when I was done, I thought I'd feel lighter but I actually felt even worse.

'I love her'

----

"I'm fucking starving." I pointed out when we pushed on the door of a small restaurant.

Millie laughed and raised her eyebrows at me, following me as I walked up to the counter. "When are you not?"

"Hey, it's not like I eat all the time or anything!"

"You could have cooked for us tonight!" she argued, ignoring my comment. "You're amazing at cooking but you're bringing me here! Or maybe you only cook for the pretty girls you want to date, is that it?"

Her lips curled into an amused smile and I knew she was joking but there was no way I was going to let her believe that I wouldn't cook for her, I raised my eyebrows too and moved my chin down, staring at her.

"I'll cook for you tomorrow, It's a promise."

It seemed to satisfy her and she sent me a big smile before nodding. The waitress brought us to a table and I suddenly lost my smile. On the table next to ours was sitting a pretty brunette and I swallowed hard when her brown eyes met mine. She seemed surprised too and I couldn't stop looking at her as she got up and sent me a small smile.

"Hey, Niall." she murmured softly, bringing her shoulders up and closer to her cheeks. "I didn't know you came here sometimes... I... I'm happy to see you."

"Grace, hi."

It took me a few seconds to glance quickly at who was eating with her and I noticed her best friend Rose, sitting awkwardly in front of her. I felt my whole body relax suddenly and at the same time, my heart jumped in my chest. If she had been on a date with an other guy, it would have been easier. I could have put a cross on her and not be so torn about how I felt. I wouldn't have to ask myself if I wanted to try with her again, and if it was worth risking having my heart broken a second time by the same girl. If she had been with an other man, I could have just turned around and left after telling her to 'fuck off'. But she was here with a friend and I knew it was totally platonic between them.

I got out of my thoughts when she moved closer to kiss my cheek and without thinking, I moved my upper body back. She looked hurt but she just sent me a sad smile.

"How are you?" she asked before turning around to look at my best friend. "Hey Millie."

"I'm... I'm alright."

A silence came between us but this time, it was uncomfortable. I could feel my heart thump hard against my rib cage and I swallowed hard, wondering what else I should do or say but before I could think of anything, Millie moved closer to me and smiled.

"Actually, we were not going to eat here, we wanted to take out."

"Oh." Grace glanced at her friend and finally shrugged, putting her gaze on me again. "Okay well, call me?"

"Will do."

"It was nice seeing you again, Grace!" Millie replied, grabbing my arm and bringing me back to the counter.

We remained silent until the waitress came back and my friend told her we were going to get take out instead as I remained silent. She ordered for both of us and the whole time, I stared at a spot on the counter to make sure I wouldn't just look at my ex girlfriend again.

I let out a loud sigh when we walked out and breathed in as if it was the first time I could do it in a few hours. Millie wrapped her arms around one of mine and leaned her chin on it to look up at me.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." I let out, completely confused. "I just want to go home."

Millie nodded very slowly, her chin rubbing gently on the sleeve of my shirt, and she squeezed my arm tight before letting go. I was not sure how I was feeling. I still loved Grace, there was no doubt about it, and seeing her again did something in my stomach, but I also knew that the love I had for her was different now. It was not intense and obsessed like it used to be. It was a sad and resigned love and I was not sure I liked it. I was starting to think that maybe, letting go of Grace and the feelings I had for her was the best thing to do to spare my heart. Maybe it was only because I had just seen her but I felt like going back with her would be a mistake and I was not sure I wanted to make it. I wanted to say that I had given this relationship as many chances as possible but I couldn't act like everything could be forgiven and forgotten because it definitely couldn't.

I would still play the game with the lists for the rest of the week but the more I thought about it, the less sure I was that I would be ready to pick a girl at the end of the week.

I noticed Millie glancing at me from time to time and it made me feel better. It was great to have someone close to me that actually cared. I had friends and family, of course, but with Millie, it was different. I could read her and I knew she could read me. We were going through the same thing and only her really knew how I was feeling at that moment.

"Can we just go back to that amazing friendship week together?" I asked, raising my nose up as we got closer to our apartment.

"Of course, why do you think I said we'd just bring the food home instead of staying there?"

I turned to her, my lips curling on the left. "Thanks for that."

"Hey, it's cool, I'm always here for you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan love story #niall horan au #niall horan writing #my fanfics #newangel

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Colorful Fish

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: a bit angst, deals with religious trauma and abortions

A/n: Ok so I strated this a while ago when @coffee--writes gave me a song to write a fic about, the song hinted at helping a girl who had very religious parents andgot pregnant so here is this fic.

Important notice: This deals with religious trauma and some hard-core Catholic beliefs, if that makes you uncomfortable don't read it. Also if you are anti-choice first get tf off my blog, second this deals with abortion it will probably make you uncomfy

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Pain was something everyone lived with. It was scrapes on your knees and cuts in your fingers. It was priced for ears and breakups. Pain kept us alive, it kept us breathing. It told us to eat, to not touch this, or be careful around that.

That's why the numbness was so terrifying.

You wanted to cry but the just tears wouldn't come so your eyes were dry, lids heavy. You didn't feel the ache in your back from the position you had pulled yourself into, the hard tile of the bathroom wall going unnoticed.

You felt like you had been thrust into some sort of thick fog. Your movements were slow and heavy, the rising and falling of your chest happening in half speed.

Your fingers shook as you fumbled with your phone, you typed in your password twice, both times your phone vibrated telling you to try again. You dropped it to the floor where it landed too loudly.

Suddenly you felt sick again, your stomach churning, throwing a fit as you pushed yourself forward, one hand gathering your hair to keep it from your face as the other clutched the cool porcine of the toilet.

You vomited twice, heaving for breaths before letting your head fall back to the wall again.

You stretched to reach the handle flushing the tainted water. You tried your phone again finally opening it on the fourth try and found the desired contact at the top of your recents. You pressed call holding the device to your ear.

A gravelly voice picked up on the third ring.

"Princess do you have any idea what time it is?" Sirius asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his spare hand.

You tried to speak your head feeling far away.

Sirius paused another moment, "Baby are you okay?"

"I'm pregnant." your voice was hollow.

The line dropped, nothing but silence responding.

Sirius felt his heart fall into his stomach "I'm sorry, what?"

You sighed, your mouth still thick with bile, "I'm pregnant." you repeated.

It was quiet for a while, the small sounds of Sirius's breaths the only thing telling you he hadn't hung up.

"Well what do you want to do?" he finally asked, bewilderment stinging his tone.

You paused squeezing your eyes shut, teeth gritted, "I don't fucking know." you finally responded, "I just threw up like four times and I'm exhausted. All I want to do right now is sleep."

"Then do that." Sirius replied, "Do you want me to come over?"

You shook your head, "No, my mom already hates you enough she would throw a fit if she found you in my bed."

Sirius licked his lips hand running through his hair "Okay, I'll talk to you in a few hours. Sleep well."

"Bye Siri," you mumbled.

"I love you princess."

"Love you too."

He was gone with a click.

You pulled yourself to your feet by the edge of your sink, pushed open the door slowly, and padded to your bedroom. You fell asleep only minutes after your head hit the pillow.

You had never had too much of a problem growing up Catholic. The sure church was boring and prayers could be a pain but it hadn't had that much of an effect on your life until you grew older.

Your first boyfriend had shown you the ugly colors your mother painted your religion with.

At fifteen you were sat down and told you would be going to hell if you did anything more than kiss the young boy you were with.

At sixteen you were told not to be friends with that girl because she was a queer and not that boy because he never went to church.

By seventeen you lived in fear of your mother and her God. Your respect for both deteriorating as you realized that God wasn’t nearly as kind as everyone else seemed to believe he was. Crosses started to look like knives as you struggled to figure out what the hell you were supposed to be.

When you met Sirius- a long-haired pagan with a pentagram tattooed on his ankle everything changed. He made things easy, he told you to believe what you wanted to, not what you were told. So you did.

But that didn’t change the whispers of your neighbors and the hatred in your mother’s eyes when Sirius picked you up.

Your mother had begged you to break things off with Sirius more times than you could count on one hand. It was one of the few things you didn’t let her convince you to do. Her words were sweet but the aftertaste was always bitter.

So instead she ignored his existence, pretending you were single as she shoved your neighbor’s son's down your throat. You learned to live with it just as she learned to turn a blind eye to the roar of your boyfriend’s motorcycle.

Out of all the ways you expected to wake a shrill scream was not one. Your heart launched and you popped upwards just as your mother slammed your door open. Its knob hit your wall so hard she would find chipped paint behind it later that night.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” You asked in a mild panic half expecting Micheal Myers to come crashing in after her.

But no one followed and instead, she stared at you in a way you had never seen before, her eyes narrowed her mouth in a tight scowl that reminded you of cracked leather, “You little slut.” she hissed.

Your eyes widened, “Mom?”

“You whore!” She shrieked and you flinched, knees coming to your chest, “I always knew you would embarrass our family like this.”

Your vision blurred, “What are you talking about?”

The pregnancy test hit you in the cheek hard enough to sting and your stomach churned.

“Get out.” your mother snarled.

“Mom, I swear I never meant for you to find out.” You whimpered.

She stiffened, “So you were just gonna kill the baby then?”

You weren’t sure how to respond.

“I will not have any sluts in my house let alone murders.” She heaved, “Call your satanist boyfriend and get out of my house.” With that, she turned on her heels and slammed your door shut behind her.

Sirius woke to the sound of his phone ringing again, he groaned, his eyes opening slowly as he tried to process the bright world around him. His phone was on its last ring when he finally picked up.

“Hey y/n/n what's-” He stopped as a broken sob met him.

You spoke no actual words, only nonsense cut by sniffles and whimpers.

Sirius was shocked awake already out of bed, phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder. “Baby, I need you to calm down.” He spoke slowly, “What’s going on, where are you?”

“I-I,” another sob, “She kicked me out Siri.” you cried.

“What? Who? Your mom?” He asked, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on.

You nodded only realizing he couldn’t hear you a couple of seconds after, “Yeah, She-” You hiccuped, “She found the pregnancy test a-and,” You broke into sobs again.

Sirius stopped in his tracks. Right. You’re pregnant, “I'll be there in ten minutes okay?”

You nodded again, “Okay.”

“Do you want me to stay on the line?” Sirius asked as he attempted to put jeans on with one hand.

“No, it's not safe to dive on the phone.” You croaked, “I gotta pack anyway.”

“Okay, I love you y/n.”

“Love you too.”

The line clicked and Sirius swore throwing his phone onto his unmade bed just go pick it up again and call Remus.

His friend picked up after two rings, “Jeez Sirius did someone die? You’re never up this early.”

Sirius wished he found that funny, “Y/n’s pregnant.”

Silence greeted him back, “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” He sighed, “Her bitch mother found out and kicked her out too.”

A pause, “Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Look I’ve gotta go pick her up but I’m gonna call you back later okay?”

”Got it.”

When the tears finally died the numbness came back like the effects of some sort of drug. You packed in silence shoving everything you could fit into a backpack you had from a trip you took in the 10th grade and a duffle bag, which still smelled like your field hockey socks.

The doorbell didn’t even ring, instead, you heard a shriek followed by heavy footsteps. Sirius entered your room and slammed your door on your mother who was chasing him down the hall.

Neither of you spoke as he drew you into a hug, your chin on his shoulder watching the door which never opened.

“You packed?” He asked and you nodded gesturing at the bags on your bed.

As you exited your room your mother just glared at you. You hung your head, tears landing on your sneakers.

Sirius felt his anger grow hot, it was never easy to tame and it roared loud in his ears. He stopped just inside the house watching as you descend the porch before turning to your mother who stared at him from the living room.

He scowled at her sneer, “Go fuck yourself, you bitch.” he spat, middle finger in the air.

You pretend nothing happened as you climbed onto his motorcycle tightening your backpack straps and whipping your tears.

You found yourself over Sirius’s toilet vomiting as you sobbed. He could do nothing but hold your hair away from your face and rub circles on your back, his own vision clouded by tears. You passed out not but twenty minutes later, crying yourself to sleep on his chest. After about an hour of watching you sleep, Sirius heard a knock on the door. He got up carefully, you didn’t even stir.

He opened the door to see Remus, his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket. Sirius welcomed him in and he sat at the coffee table as Sirius got them each a beer.

“Is y/n here?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping,” Sirius responded.

Remus nodded, taking note of the red tinge around his friend’s eyes, “Do you guys have any idea what you’re going to do?”

Sirius shook his head, “We haven’t even talked about it yet, when she got here she started throwing up and then passed out.”

Remus waited a moment, “Do you want to keep it?”

Sirius wasn’t surprised by the question, he had been asking himself the same for hours now, “I don’t fucking know, I mean, we’re nineteen, we haven’t even talked about marriage yet, let alone kids.” His thoughts swirled, “And I haven’t even spoken to my parents since I was sixteen and now her mom practically disowned her I mean,” He sighed, “I just don’t know.”

“Whatever you guys decide you know James, Lily, and I will be here for you,” Remus said patting Sirius on the shoulder.

He nodded, “I just can’t believe her mother kicked her out. I mean she’s her only daughter ya know and I just- I knew they hated me but I never thought she would do this to her.”

“Parents do terrible things Pads, you should know that.” Remus sighed.

“Yeah, but you should have seen the way her mother looked at her. It was like she had committed some unforgivable crime or something, it was like she actually hated her.”

“It’s cuz she does.” You murmured dully from the hallway.

Sirius froze and Remus shifted uncomfortably.

You gave them both a battered smile, “It’s fine, it’s not like I don’t know.”

“Y/n I-,”

“Really, it’s fine Sirius.” You said taking a seat beside him, “I’m over it.” That was a blatant lie.

The three of you talked about meaningless things for a while, the distraction feeling like a breath of fresh air amongst the garbage you had been shoved into. You ordered Chinese takeout offering for Remus to stay for dinner but he explained he had classes in the morning and should probably be studying.

The easy atmosphere only lasted for a bit after he left and by the time dinner had arrived you felt like crying again.

Finally, Sirius brought it up, “So what do you want to do?” he spoke solemnly.

You paused a shuddering sigh leaving your lips, “We can’t have a kid Sirius.”

“If you wanted to we could make it work.” Sirius countered.

“We can’t have one Siri.” You repeated.

“Listen y/n I could make it work, I would propose and-”

You scoffed.

Sirius furrowed his brows, “What?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t slept even 5 hours the night before or maybe it was because he was stressed but for some reason that hurt, his thoughts spiraling, “You wouldn’t marry me?”

You looked confused, “What? I never said that.”

“You don’t have to.” He glared at you.

“What are you talking about Sirius?” You asked.

“I’m talking about the idea of me proposing to you being so laughable.” He snapped.

Your face contorted in anger, “First of all I didn’t laugh at you, second it’s ridiculous because we are NINETEEN!”

More hurt, his thoughts went darker, “So you are admitting you wouldn’t marry me?”

“Right now I wouldn’t.” you respond.

Your words stung, “Why not?”

“I just told you!” You yelled, “We’re too young!”

Sirius paused, you were right, you were too young, “You’re right I’m sorry.” he sighed, “I’m just kind of tired right now.”

“I know Siri,” You mumbled, “I am too.”

Silence fell as you both found yourself trying to pull together a piece of your sanity. The clock ticked and the wind shuddered the windows in their frames.

“I don’t want a kid Sirius.” You sighed, “I know you don’t either.”

He didn’t protest, you were right yet again.

“I’m going to go to the clinic tomorrow.” You spoke, “It’s definitely the best option.”

“What about your mom.” Sirius asked, “You know she would never forgive you.”

There was another moment of quiet, “I think I’m okay with that.” you spoke and you were telling the truth.

A strange sense of relief filled you as you sat in the clinic's parking lot, you were finally putting this behind you, your life could go somewhat back to normal. Except for the fact that you were going back to your house in two days when you knew your mom was gone to clean out your room of course. It felt good to be out of that house, the eggshells you were so used to walking on being replaced by Sirius hardwood floors and patterned rugs. Something about all of this felt right, like you had taken that leap and instead of hitting the harsh rock you expected, you hit warm water filled with colorful fish.

Your mother didn’t try to contact you for years, sometimes you forget she even existed. You kept yourself busy, finally deciding on a major for college and helping Lily and James with a wedding and then a child.

Living with Sirius was like a dream, sometimes when you got up early you would just watch him sleep, his hair always hanging in front of his eyes as he took slowed, heavy breaths. You taught him how to properly cook food, something he had been incapable of doing for far too long. You were truly happy for the first time in a while.

When you were twenty-two Sirius got on one knee and you could not have said yes faster. You were ready then.

Three weeks before the wedding you got a call from your mother. You damn near dropped the phone when you heard her voice. Part of you expected an apology the other part knew she was far too stubborn. And she was, you didn’t even listen to her lecture on how you were marrying a nobody, instead, you hung up and blocked the number.

You had the wedding in late spring, just before the flowers began to wilt and turn to leaves, Remus got himself ordained and you sealed it all with a kiss under a cherry tree. You and Sirius were okay with having no relatives at your wedding because while no blood of yours was in the audience your true family was and that was all that mattered.

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@songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @obsessedwithrandomthings-deacti @coldlilheart @susceptible-but-siriusexual @inglorious-imagines

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#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #sirius black x reader #harry potter x reader #marauders imagines #marauders au #hp marauders #harry potter marauders #sirius black imagines #sirius black x oc #sirius black #marauders imagine #marauders era #religous trauma

169 notes · View notes

olivinesea · 3 years

Text

Worth the Keeping

a/n: Damn this was a slow one. Brought to you by the way asphalt looks under streetlights and me having been a badly behaved teenage drunk. It’s long but there’s no way around it. TW abuse, nothing wild tho. One bad slur, I’m sorry. Settle in for some in depth Hotch thoughts. ~6k

Young Hotch, young Haley. Bittersweet.

He’s never thought much about his own life, never felt that it carried much importance. Certainly the people in his home did not value it. He thinks perhaps his mother did at one point but she is too caught up in her own worries and the care of Sean to devote any attention to him. Sometimes she even seems angry if he appears to need help. So he makes sure never to need it. He learns how to splint broken fingers and reset dislocated joints, how butterfly bandages and superglue were all that was needed to close most wounds. He thinks, when he is encouraged to imagine the future by naively optimistic teachers, that perhaps he will be an EMT since he’s become so good at triage. He’s met a few EMTs, the rare times when an ambulance was necessary, the threat to life too immediate to ignore. They usually seem like nice, if a little intense, people.

Once, when he was only five, he had experienced anaphylaxis after being stung by a bee. He’d already learned not to make a big deal out of life’s little injuries. So when the bee stings him in the garden, he knows not to say anything. It is his fault anyway, it is always his fault. He sucks on the skin around the sting, anything to take away the fiery sensation he is feeling. He has never been stung by a bee before, had no idea what was going to happen as he grabbed at the little buzzing creatures flying busily around his mother’s flower garden. It turned out, bees did not appreciate chubby hands grasping at them and one made a point of letting him know.

He creeps back to the house guiltily, thinking of the ice in the freezer, maybe he could get some of that. Sometimes his mother would bring him ice wrapped in a towel to place over the repercussions of his childish transgressions, still reaching for love he couldn’t earn. It was always too cold, biting in a way that made the injuries pulse. But he accepted it because it meant that his mother was sitting near him, that he wasn’t alone for a little while. This only reinforced his lessons that care was painful. Wasn’t it better to have someone care so much it hurt than to have no one to care at all? She promised him that’s all it was, it was only because they cared that these things happened. It was only that he was still learning.

But right now, the bee sting is burning a hole in his hand and he thinks maybe the ice could at least distract him from that pain. He slips silently into the house, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dark interior after the bright summer sun. He is breathing hard, but each breath seems to draw in less air. Maybe he is afraid. He knows fear, is intimately familiar with the feeling. He knows it better than most five year olds do, who only experience fear on a basic level—sometimes practical: fires burn, falling from high places is dangerous; sometimes fantastical: what if there are dragons in the woods or ghosts in the attic. Fear was a means to keep you safe but when you are a child there are supposed to be adults helping keep you safe as well. A child’s fear shouldn’t have to be so specific. Aaron is afraid of slammed doors and broken glass and dirt tracked in on his shoes. He is afraid of storms that brew in bottles of dark liquid and unleash torrential outpourings of disgust.

In this moment he is afraid, not of a monster, but of a person who might be watching him from the shadows of the living room. He is too young to understand schedules and time, he doesn’t know his greatest fear is otherwise occupied. Instead, he lets fear be the reason for his change in breathing. He makes it to the kitchen with its big windows and bright lighting, only to find his hand has grown, comically large and heavy, the skin swollen and stretched. Breathing feels like trying to drag air through a wet towel. He feels his heart racing as the fear closes in but still stays quiet. He probably wouldn’t be able to make much noise if he tried but he doesn’t want to find out who else is inside the house at the moment.

Through the small luck allotted him, his mother comes in minutes later to find him curled on the kitchen floor, skin around his mouth a pale blue, his eyes closed in concentration, trying to will air through his constricted windpipe. She is about to scold him, to tell him to stop playing when she sees his hand, all doughy pink and covered in hives that travel up his arm to his thin chest. She rushes to the phone to call 911. She’s never been more scared, both that her son might die and that her husband might find out how careless they’d both been.

Ambulances weren’t easy to hide, drew too much attention, but something tells her there isn’t time for a different choice. The EMTs assure her she had done the right thing, quickly setting to work administering epinephrine and monitoring Aaron’s oxygen levels. If he seems rather quiet and withdrawn for a five year old, he had just gone through a dramatic, life threatening experience. It would cause anyone to sink into a bit of shock. They don’t notice the nervous looks exchanged between mother and son, both their eyes darting to the long driveway every so often, looking out for incoming danger. When they tell her the boy needs to be taken to the hospital for further care she visibly balks.

“But he seems fine now, he’s doing better right?”

The child in question is sitting in the open back of the ambulance, thin legs dangling, scum from leftover bandaid adhesive outlining skinned knees. He is breathing carefully into a mask that another medic holds for him. His hand is cradled in his lap, no longer outlandishly large but still misshapen. He looks fragile and she longs to pull him away, out of the hands of these strangers, who may only be trying to help but don’t realize how their help might have consequences. She wants them to leave, wants the house to return to the state it was in this morning when her husband left for the day, so he wouldn’t see anything as out of place, wouldn’t have to know about the day’s events.

She is worried about talk in the neighborhood, about the way her front lawn has been overrun by busy people in uniform, doing what she can’t imagine. But it was a future worry; she was so good at keeping secrets surely this was one she could fit in somewhere. If only she can keep it contained to this moment, prevent it from spreading.

“He is, but it’s important that he go. There could be a secondary reaction.”

Her arms are crossed and she rubs her index finger across her bottom lip absently as she tries to think quickly. Victor will be home soon, he would be disturbed to find them gone. She doesn’t think there will be any way to hide this if they went to the hospital. Too many people will see, there will be no way to lie away their absence. But if they didn’t go now and Aaron got worse, she couldn’t very well call the emergency services a second time. She looks at him again. He is now staring down at the ground, swinging his little legs back and forth. She hates that she has to make a decision like this. She hates how there were likely no good outcomes no matter what she chooses. She pinches her lip between her fingernails for a moment then sighs as she gives in.

“Ok, let’s go. I just need to call my husband first.”

It was only the presence of the hospital staff that stops him from strangling both mother and son when he receives the bill. Aaron shrinks against his mother’s side as his father thanks the doctor with a tight voice before turning and walking out of the building. His mother, nervous herself, is shivering, he can feel her body shake as he presses against her. She takes off on quick steps to follow his father from the building. She would have left him behind if he hadn’t been gripping tightly to her skirt, nearly dragging him off balance with her speed. They get into the car silently. Aaron climbs behind the passenger seat to the back and tries to melt into the corner. The air is snapping with electricity as a fast moving spring rainstorm darkens the sky around them. The tension makes him want to scream. He knows better.

“I’m sorry, there wasn’t time,” his mother starts, her voice embarrassingly plaintive.

"Shut up.”

Aaron’s eyes dart back and forth between his parents. He sees his mother hang her head, rounding her shoulders ever so slightly. He sees his father’s knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. He knows this was his fault but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He opens his mouth to say something but right then lightening cracks across the sky in front of them and they are all dazed by the flash.

Later, after they get back to the house and Aaron is sent to his room, the crashes of thunder mingle with his father’s shouting, his mother’s cries. He shivers beneath his too thin blanket, his lungs still feel new and foreign. Like they have been scraped raw and newly exposed to their purpose of pulling oxygen into his small body. He has suspected it before but this experience has solidified in his mind that he shouldn’t be here, that his presence only causes distress. He knows his mother would be better off if he had died, he knows his father would be less angry about that than whatever humiliation he feels he’s just experienced at the hospital. For some reason, despite his wishes to the contrary, he only brings about waste and pain. He had only wanted to meet the tiny creatures, to see if their busy movements, their buzzing hearts matched his own.

As he gets older, he grows tired of the care, he wishes more and more to be ignored. If only his father cared less, he could fade into the wallpaper, disappear into the shadows of their house. If no one cares, he can’t disappoint with his shortcomings. He can just float around in a fog that softens the world around him, never caring too much about anything, never feeling that sting of caring. If he doesn’t care, nothing matters, nothing can touch him.

Aaron has completely accepted the fact of his own unimportance by the time he is a teenager. He does everything he can to blend into the background. To escape the notice of others because being noticed is never safe. It reminds people that he dares to take up space, dares to make use of resources better allocated to creatures more deserving, less hateful.

Something shifts once he hits puberty, a sort of recklessness sparks inside him. Though he is still careful to avoid the attentions of adults, he starts to bite back when other kids tease him. They had been teasing him his whole life. For his strange haircuts and too small or too large clothing. For never having new things. They told him he was dirty, they told him he was weird. All the usual small cruelties children hurl at one another.

Now that he is in high school and has gone through a growth spurt, not yet his full size but much larger than he had been, he has some power. He notices the way the other kids step back when he stands up quickly, only with the desire to run and hide, but he notices it nevertheless. I’ll remember that, he thinks as he walks, rather than runs, to escape from their taunts.

Part way into his freshman year he breaks someone’s nose. While not exactly justified it wasn’t unprovoked either. They had been picking at him throughout the day. Purposely running him into lockers, knocking over his lunch tray and pinching him as he walked by. There are so many of them and they are so quick about it he is never completely sure who is doing it. His irritation grows inside him such that he wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke drifting out of his ears. The pokes and jabs are bad enough on their own but what the other kids don’t know is that they are just layering over deeper bruises, ones he does his best to forget about. If he thinks about those too much he’d go crazy.

The older he gets the harder it is to hold together the fractured reality he lives inside of. The one where a man can be both a hero and a monster. He has known since he was little about the danger his father carries but as he got older and saw more of the world around him he has realized that this is not the same for everyone. And not only is it not the same, his experience is somehow invisible, inconceivable to all the eyes of his hometown. As an adult he will look back and realize that some people did know, they just didn’t do anything to help, for whatever complicated reasons adults tell themselves that they shouldn’t get involved in others’ business. Even if the cost is taken out of a child’s nightmares.

So when Luke Gatson pulls his too-long hair and calls him a fag at the end of the day, he’s had enough. He swings his fist blindly but with all the force of years of built up anger. He is surprisingly accurate, maybe having absorbed more knowledge of inflicting pain over the years than he realized. There is an audible crack as the other boy collapses on his knees, holding both hands over his bleeding nose. Aaron stares at him, hand still clenched in a fist, eyes burning. Luke’s friends crowd around him, glancing between the two, wondering if they are meant to get some sort of revenge for their friend. Aaron can see that they are surprised, probably the reason that they haven’t jumped him immediately. He also sees the tears on Luke’s face that he is trying to hide. That makes him feel bad and he loses any sense of the burning hatred that had taken over.

“Sorry, Luke,” he says sheepishly.

“Fuck you Hotchner,” Luke replies, scowling at him.

Aaron shrugs, he’s heard worse, and walks away toward home. As afternoon becomes evening, Aaron’s stomach is in knots over the thought that his father will find out what he’d done. He is sure the man will not be pleased about it. He is so anxious he can’t even pretend to eat what is in front of him at dinner, a frequent struggle that earns him glares from both parents. He can’t stop darting his eyes to the phone, waiting for it to ring and deliver his sentencing.

He is washing the dishes when it finally does and he nearly drops the soapy ceramic, startled by the sound. He forces himself to stay still, to keep doing what he is supposed to, maybe his mother will intercept it. But his mother is putting Sean to bed, only his father is downstairs and he can hear him grumbling about people’s lack of decency calling so late. Aaron can only make out muffled sounds from the other room as his father has a short exchange with whoever is on the other end. He hasn’t been able to move since the phone started ringing and his hands start to shake as he hears the small click of the receiver, the footsteps coming toward the kitchen. He carefully sets the plate in the sink but continues to grip the sponge like it might be some sort of shield. He feels his father’s presence behind him and slowly turns to face him.

Victor is looking at him curiously from the doorway, eyebrows pulled together, corners of his mouth drawn down slightly.

“You got in a fight.” It is not a question, he is not interested in the details or whether his son might have different information.

Internally Aaron panics, trying to think of a way to escape this situation. He’s had plenty of time to consider how his father would react and how he might possibly minimize the fallout. Outside he is perfectly still, eyes downcast, breathing measured. Maybe he should run. He hasn’t tried that since he was small, too small to understand there was nowhere to run to. Maybe he would be fast enough now. Then he hears the least expected sound. He has to look up to convince himself he is interpreting it correctly. His father is laughing. His eyes go wide with alarm, he can’t remember his father ever laughing before. Maybe this has unlocked some new level of anger.

“Must have been a weak little shit to get taken down by you,” he says.

Still in shock, Aaron has nothing to say. His dad rubs his face with his hand, a little chuckle escaping. He drops his hand and looks at Aaron.

“Never fucking do that again. You won’t like what happens after.” All humor gone, the stony glare reappears. With that he turns and walks away, his steps only slightly unsteady.

Despite knowing better Aaron gets into more fights and his father delivers on his promise. Rationally he knows he can stop this. Maybe he doesn’t always have control over what happens to him at home, but this, the fighting, is completely a choice. After the first incident a few other kids test him, seeing if his breaking Luke’s nose was only luck. They quickly discover that he is able to back up that first knock out. Aaron is a natural fighter. He is on the scrawny side but what he lacks in mass he makes up for in pure rage. After a few more black eyes and split lips, the other kids grow more cautious, give him space when they walk by. No one teases him anymore.

But those fights taught him something. He discovers he likes the experience of being on the attack rather than only receiving. He never fights back at home, it is unthinkable to try to defend himself against what comes at him there. But out here in the world, for a few moments, he becomes something else. He becomes electricity and thunder, the one operating the crane that swings the wrecking ball, demolishing years of pent up confusion with his fists. He starts fights now. It does’t matter that it means he goes home to a matching fist, a coordinating set of bruises. He would be going home to that anyway, wouldn’t he? The blood in his mouth tastes like winning.

A couple years into high school and this is all he is now. Something dark and dangerous, he walks through the hallways, glaring at others, raising his fists any time he can find an excuse. If people notice he has more bruises than ever before, dusky marks on his cheek, his neck, the angry red patches of skin exposed during scuffles, it only makes sense given how much he’s taken to fighting.

Sometimes he sees flashes of fear in their eyes as he gains the upper hand and for a split second he is remorseful, identifying with that fear. But then, just as quickly, he is angry again. Angry that this fear is so new to them when for him it’s been a close companion all his life. He resents their normalcy and their parents that scold and worry, making a big show of taking away privileges when they have to come to collect their misbehaving child from the principal’s office. His father never makes a big show, barely says anything at all, simply apologizing to the principal, promising he will talk it over with his son, will make sure he understands the gravity of the path he is heading down. He can’t look at his father during these meetings, afraid he might scream, if only to drown out the ringing in his ears.

One time it is his mother rather than his father picking him up after yet another fight and he makes the mistake of making eye contact with her. The tears are instantaneous. He brushes at his face roughly with the heels of his hands, but nothing he does can stop them. He is frightening to see cry, making the people around him very uncomfortable with the way he is completely silent. The principal doesn’t bother giving his mother the usual speech, only ushers them out the door, his mother offering a quiet thank you. Looking into her eyes had shown him that she knows, that she knows what is coming and she will do nothing to stop it.

She had given up on him when Sean was born, writing him off as a lost cause. She will give everything to Sean; if only she can keep him safe, she won’t be a total failure. She felt guilty at first, trying to reason that Aaron was old enough to take care of himself but the nagging feeling of abandoning her responsibility was hard to escape. As he grew older, however, he had become this stranger she no longer feels anything for but shame. She can’t wait for the day he is old enough to leave the house. She knows there will be no peace before then.

Aaron fights with a determination that reveals how little he takes into account his own safety. He’ll fight with anyone; bigger, older, more experienced, it doesn’t matter. He’s even started to pick fights with adults, daring them to react. Nothing anyone does can touch him. Without a sense of self, a drive for self preservation, there is no reason not to throw himself entirely into the burning of the world. He would deny it but his deepest secret is the hope that if he keeps at it, perhaps someone will notice, someone will care enough to tell him he is worth compassion. Every time he fights and no one asks why, it reinforces this idea: that he is worthless, just an embarrassment to minimize. So he fights harder. He doesn’t know if he is trying to prove them right or wrong.

He only slows down when his father breaks his wrist and threatens to send him away. Alone in his room, doing his best to immobilize the joint with an old brace, he cries, hot and painful tears. Not because of the injury but for how twisted he’s become, how the only comfort he has found has been in turning this brutality on others.

Wandering the halls after school one day, prolonging the time before he heads home in the rain, he hears singing. Mindlessly he walks toward it, curious who might be the owner of such light that they can spill it out of themselves in sound. He comes to an open door and finds clumps of students standing or sitting, all facing toward a makeshift stage. Standing alone at the front was the singer, her face as beautiful as her voice suggests. He is magnetized. Her song ends and he feels it like a loss, barely registering the exchange between the girl and the two adults in the room as they thank her and make some marks on a clipboard. Suddenly there are fingers snapping in his face and he glares down at their owner, pulling his injured wrist in against his chest, protecting it from whatever action he is going to take. When he finds a small freshman boy looking up at him with an expression not of fear, only interest, he is confused. He is not accustomed to anyone looking at him without some degree of anger.

“Are you here for auditions?” The boy seems a little exasperated, like he’s repeated the question dozens of times already.

Aaron blinks at him. Auditions? As he is trying to understand the question, another kid steps into the spot last occupied by the singing girl and says a few words before beginning to sing as well. He notes that they are good as well but nowhere near the sweetness he was drawn in by. He looks around the room trying to find the girl, he is fairly certain he’s seen her before, maybe in one of his English classes. He never paid much attention to the other kids outside of which ones might deserve a fight. He spots her in a corner whispering with another girl, ducking her head and smiling, playfully knocking her friend’s shoulder. The strange feeling in his chest is his heart melting. He looks back down when he feels a tug on his shirt sleeve. He is ready to bite the head off of this annoying child.

“There’s a spot left if you want to audition. You have something prepared right?”

Aaron Hotchner has nothing prepared, nothing in his life could have prepared him for this moment but he’d do anything to get closer to that smile. He nods.

“Sure.” He can barely get the word out, his throat is dry and raspy. The kid looks at him quizzically, Aaron almost laughs at the way one of his eyebrows rises up. He can already imagine him as a crinkled old man.

“You have something to sing?” he questions more directly, doubt clearly apparent.

Aaron shrugs, he can come up with something. On the better days, the spring and summer days, when the light gets longer and he can wander in the woods for hours, he sang with the birds. Singing was nothing new to him. Singing for other people though, he does’t like that idea at all if he lets himself think about it. But there is no time to think. He is giving his name and being jostled into the room. Before he has fully taken in his surroundings, his name is spoken with some confusion as he is called up to his turn.

One of the adults is his civics teacher from his freshman year. She frowns as she looked at him and he feels a wash of anxiety, remembering who he is, remembering he is not made for good things. He opens and closes his mouth but no sound comes out. The room is quiet and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him. He exhales, angry with himself, looking up to glare out at this roomful of people who’s only crime is agreeing with him that he is worthless. But he sees her again—she is smiling, barely, but it is enough.

He clears his throat and starts to sing. It is a quiet sad song, a hymn he’s heard a hundred times as he forced himself to stay awake during services. There is not enough penance in the world to absolve him but he likes the music sometimes. This one has been a favorite for many years. His voice gets stronger as he settles into it, staring at the floor just beyond his shoes, trying to picture himself out in the woods, surrounded by his only companions—the silent trees and the birdsong. When he stops they are staring at him and he hates it. He rubs one foot against the back of the other calf, considering just walking out of the room before anyone is forced to say anything, to embarrass him further with some pitying words.

“That—that was great!” the teacher finally says. “We needed a baritone, you would be perfect.”

Aaron just nods, cheeks flushed as he risks another look to the corner where the girl had been standing. She is still there, looking at him more carefully now, her expression an odd mix of emotion. It is enough to give him the courage to smile back, just slightly, the tiniest twitch of the corner of his mouth.

“Rehearsals start next week. Everyday after school. Can you do that?”

He nods again, dragging his eyes back to the adults in front of him. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, just as quietly as when he started.

As he walks away, he hears his old civics teacher mutter to the drama teacher, “I had no idea he could sing. I’ve barely heard him speak.”

The other teacher hums back in agreement, just as confused.

Many months down the line and Aaron has softened a little. No longer an instigator of fights, he has other things on his mind. The anger hasn’t gone anywhere but he holds it back so that it doesn’t disturb the peace he finds with Haley. She is the best thing to ever come into his life and he knows he doesn’t deserve her; knows it is only a matter of time before the world rights itself and takes this gentle soul from him. He knows she is not a second chance, no one will ever forget what he is, he can never outrun the dark looks that follow his name. But he’ll hide in the solace she provides as long as the world lets him.

To her credit, she doesn’t make him feel foreign or pathetic as she learns new layers of his reality. Inside she cringes at every revelation but she is careful, keeping an invitation on her face, making space for him to bleed out some of what poisons him. He is hesitant and slow to share, sure that each slip will send her running. But when she does’t run, when she only pulls him closer, he trembles with the desire to be seen the way she seems to. That relentlessly denied hope gaining strength—that someone might care to look past the barbed wire and broken glass he’s made a home within.

There are good days and bad, they are only children after all. Sometimes he can’t explain his feelings. They are too big and all he wants to do was rip apart the world to find a place he can bury them. He tries to hide from her but she’s caught on to his tricks, seeking him out in all his usual unusual places: behind the gym, near the creek, the empty fields around his home. She grabs his shaking hands and pulls him to the ground, leaning against him and stroking the back of his hand while he shivers out the small pieces of a story that he thinks she can handle. The reality is it is much more than she can but much less than he needs. But they do their best.

She waits until she is alone or with her sister to cry for the ways life has harmed him, has doubled back on its promise and turned something she thought was a gift into nothing but torment. It is the first time she’s really understood what people mean when they say life is unfair. But she is stubborn and believes everyone deserves kindness, if no one else was willing to provide, she will be his reprieve.

At first the other girls laugh, thinking it is some kind of joke, a cliche, the beauty and the beast. But as they watch him change, catching smiles and held hands, they are in awe of Haley Brooks. While they can’t forget their distaste for the weird and angry boy they’ve known since grade school, they think perhaps there is something they missed. The softer-hearted among them root for their success; the others, once over the novelty, do their best to ignore the couple. Soon it isn’t even worth a comment when Haley turns up to some social event, towing along a brooding but behaved Aaron Hotchner.

It is Halloween and she’s convinced him to come to a party. Not a big deal, she promises, just a keg and some idiots in the woods. He gives in easily because he knows how badly she wants to go and he tries to give her whatever normalcy he can. He is uncomfortable at parties but appreciative that this one will be outside, in the woods, his woods, as he likes to think of them. The party is uneventful, he even manages to get a laugh from a group of tipsy sophomores when he makes a dry observation of the likeness of warm beer to peanuts. He hadn’t been trying to be funny but their laughter feels nice anyway.

They wander away from the party together, walking towards the neighborhood they both live in. He has handed over his jacket to supplement the impractical blue gingham dress she is wearing. He’d resisted her requests for a couples costume and frowned unhappily when she thrust a flannel and a straw hat at him as they were headed out. He’d put his normal jacket on over it as soon as she was distracted by a conversation and “lost” the hat somewhere in a bush. At least without the hat he could feasibly be wearing a normal outfit though he would never pick out something quite so green.

They hold hands as they walk down the sidewalk, tugging on one another slightly just to feel the comfort of the opposing weight. Occasionally there is a sign post and he drops her hand to split around it, only to grab it back and pull her in closely for a kiss. She giggles, enjoying this looser version of him. He doesn’t drink in front of her very often, usually too nervous to lower his guard and make himself vulnerable in that way.

As they get closer to town, he steps further into the street when he lets go of her hand. There is more traffic here and she is confused by what he’s doing. Maybe he is getting tired, not paying attention to his actions. She isn’t completely wrong, though it’s not the sort of inattention she’s thinking of. Every headlight that burns their vision pulls at him. The promise of impact, of un-ignorable damage draws him closer. He laughs as he stumbles, veering back to the sidewalk with smaller and smaller margins. He seems to have forgotten her, instead he is focused on this private game without a possibility of winning. It makes her nervous but she tells herself it isn’t a big deal. All boys are like this, flirting with destruction.

As yet another car passes with only a few feet of clearance, she can’t take it anymore.

“Aaron! This isn’t fun for me,” she is upset and the tone of her voice cuts through the drunken fog of his mind. He’s almost forgotten he isn’t alone, hypnotized by the weave of light and dark. Immediately remorseful, he jumps back to the sidewalk, planting his feet heavily and grabbing her around the waist. He pulls her in close, tucking her head under his chin, closing his eyes against the rise and fall of the horizon.

“‘m sorry,” he whispers into her hair. She shakes her head but squeezes him, arms wrapped around his torso. He takes another breath and opens his eyes, watching as another car passes them, oblivious to their small drama. The lights still pull at him but he clings to her, holding on for all he’s worth.

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #young hotch #tw abuse #hotch thoughts

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vesuvian-american-fics · 4 years

Text

better with time. Ch 6

your name.

You finally have a name for yourself, after so long you are Y/N. (AO3)

Words: 1,815

That afternoon you were woken up with a flick to the forehead. Slowly opening your eyes and allowing them to adjust to the bright scenery you found Levi looming over you. Before you could speak or sit up, he flicked your forehead again harshly.

“Oi, brat. Wake up and eat...” He said with a bored tone. You frowned before groaning as you sat up. Your chest was sore, breathing was painful but you did find that you felt absolutely famished. Your muscles ached as you reached for the plate on your bed side table and began to eat hastily. Levi’s lips formed into a slight frown at the sight before him.

“No manners.” He muttered to himself as he flipped through his reports. While you were asleep it seemed, Levi set up shop with you in the infirmary, a small table with a neat stack of forms sat a few feet away from you. Quill pens lay next to an ink well on one end, and on the other sat Levi’s favorite tea set. Levi’s eyes watched as yours scanned over his table and he cocked his brow at you.

“Mind your business and eat.” He spat, before crossing one leg over the other. You huffed at him before taking a large bite out of your loaf of bread dramatically. The two of you rolling your eyes at each other.

The silence drew on and as you finished your meal you sat awkwardly on your bed, not knowing what to do with your hands. Erwin hadn’t yet arrived with your new book and your old ones were nowhere to be found. Levi noticed this but decided against going to grab them for you from your old cellar.

Silently he rose from his seat and poured you a cup of warm tea to ease your aching throat. The two of you sipped your teas in the continued silence before Hange came barging in to check on you.

They felt your forehead, still a little warm but your fever was definitely dropping. After your routine checkup Hange asked if you were up for a bath to which you desperately agreed.

“Well, Levi while I watch her in the bath can you change the sheets?” Hange asked with a shit eating grin, though it did little to mask their anxiety for asking Levi to do something like that. Levi frowned as he eyed the sheets over, knowing they were drenched in your sweat put him off.

“No.” He replied dryly turning his body away from your bed as if to remove himself further away from your sick germs. Hange pouted before hatching a new idea for a solution.

“If I switch the sheets, you’ll have to take her to the bath–”

“Fine.�� He said with an exasperated sigh, setting his tea cup down gently before slipping out of the door not waiting to see if you follow him or not. You groan and pout in Hange’s direction but do your best to catch up with Levi. Your body was feeling so heavy and weak you looked forward to the bath but not with Levi in the room.

The partition will help to give you privacy but the dead silence will be nerve wracking. Your inner complaints fell silent when you found yourself walking past many of the scouts you recall seeing in the canteen and outside of the infirmary.

The scouts gawked and moved out of Levi’s path as he walked on ahead but you slowed down to take the time to memorize their faces. They looked younger than you, well, everyone’s younger than you considering your past but that’s beside the point.

You gave the young scouts a sheepish smile and a little wave before catching up with Levi. You gave the young boy with those large emerald eyes a curt nod before continuing on. He looked like he wanted to ask a million questions, and you hoped one day to be able to answer them.

Levi addressed a tall man as he walked towards the baths, his name was Mike. The two men nodded at one another as they passed by and you gave him a small nod of your own. However, instead of returning that gesture the tall man hastily slapped his hand over his nose and backed away from you.

Mortified, you gasped and wrapped your arms over your body as if to conceal your scent. Was it that bad, really? As if it couldn’t get any worse Levi saw the entire thing and a smug look was painted over his features, probably laughing at your expense. You whined to yourself before continuing to the bath and slipping inside.

Levi shook his head trying and failing to conceal the smirk on his face.

“Mike has a strong sense of smell.” He commented as you slid the partition in front of the tub with a frown ever present on your features. You sucked your teeth at the new information.

“ Great, so I just broke his nose with my ick, ” you thought to yourself. Levi stood across the room with arms folded as you peaked back behind the partition and began to undress. You slid down into the steaming water and released a delighted sigh, allowing your weary muscles relax in the warmth. Any humiliation from you encounter with Mike melting away.

Hearing the splashing water die down Levi excused himself to quickly retrieve fresh clothes for you. He brought back an olive button down blouse, khaki slacks, and a pair of slippers. Swiftly he walked up to the chair next to your bath and dropped the neatly folded clothes onto its seat. You eyed him warily, sinking an inch deeper into the bath but Levi was a gentleman of course, he made no attempt at sneaking a peak at your body and you appreciated that. It was hard to imagine him as the perverted type anyway.

Levi leaned his back against the wall of the washroom near the door, sighing before reluctantly breaking the silence.

“You remember your name yet brat?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he waited impatiently for your attempted response. You hummed “no”, sounding a bit sad.

“Troublesome...” He muttered under his breath but you caught what he said loud and clear. You huffed at his comment before reaching for the shampoo bottle and giving your scalp a scrub.

You hummed delightedly, feeling refreshed and clean. Just as you were stepping out of the bath Levi ordered you to hurry, dress, and get back to the infirmary. Levi stepped into the hall where he was met with a scout pacing back and forth on the other side of the door impatiently waiting for someone to emerge.

“What do you want brat?” Levi spat waiting for the young boy to explain himself.

It was Eren Yeager, he had so many questions he’s been wanting to ask about you. Who you are and why you’re here? Just as he opened his mouth to ask as much you stepped into the hall, dressed in your new comfy clothes and drying your drenched hair on a fluffy towel.

Eren’s eyes scanned between you and Captain Levi, mouth still agape before he finally spoke.

“You’re a titan shifter?” He interrogated, staring a bit too hard at you. It was a little unnerving how eager he seemed for an answer, an answer you weren’t sure of yourself.

Awkwardly you shrugged your shoulders looking between the two men.

“Theres your answer brat, now get to cleaning in there.” Levi ordered shuffling between the two of you to leave towards the infirmary.

“B-but–” Eren attempted to protest his new chores but he was quickly silenced with an irritated glance from the Captain. Eren deflated before stalking off into the wash room to tidy up to Levi’s high standards. You gave him an apologetic smile before following Levi back to your room.

There you were met with Commander Erwin, he stood in the middle of the room flipping through a thick book, one you supposed was meant for you.

“Oh, there you are!” He said with a bright smile handing over the book to you.

“This is for you, pick whichever one you like most.” He nodded towards the text in your hands, while you looked at him questionably. That is, until you saw the context of the book. Names.

It was a book filled entirely of names to pick from. Something in your chest twisted almost painfully, you hadn’t realized how heartbreaking it was to have forgotten your own name. However, finding a new identity for your new life felt a bit rewarding and poetic. Grinning with misty eyes you flipped through the pages enthusiastically.

A knock sounded against the door but you ignored it as you continued to scan the pages with haste. Hange slipped inside and Levi caught them up on what was happening.

“She's picking out a name...” He said with a bored tone, yet on the inside he was anticipating your choice. Hange gasped and clapped their hands together, excited to finally have a name to call you form here on out.

You pointed out a name to Hange and watched as their expression soured.

“I don’t know about Daisy for you...” they said hesitantly, a tentative smile on their face as they flipped to another page to divert your attention from Daisy. Levi’s own expression twisted at the sound of that one too, and Erwin chuckled giving a choice of his own.

“Mildred?” This time you were the one frowning, shaking your head frantically before snorting a bit at that name. Levi shook his head before adding his suggestion.

“How about the brat flips to a random page and the first name she finds we use that? Problem solved.” He added, feigning irritation and impatience. You gave him a small smile before taking him up on the offer.

Closing your eyes, you flipped the pages at random before randomly stopping yourself and pointing at a spot on the page.

Slowly you opened one eye to see where you landed, Hange leaned eagerly over your shoulder to get a glance themself.

“Ooo~ I like this one!” Hange exclaimed giving you a playful nudge in the side. Erwin glanced at your finger on the page, his thick eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise.

“Lucky pick! It’s lovely, do you like it?” He asked, his features softening at the dazed look on your face. You loved it, it felt perfect. You felt like this name was already yours. You nodded softly, unshed tears clouding your vision.

Levi sauntered over and looked at the name on the page before giving a curt nod.

“It’s not shitty.” He said plainly. You chuckled before smiling at the page once more.

That’s when, in 107 years you uttered your first word. Voice soft and trembling.

“Y/N.”

#levi ackerman #levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi #aot #attack on titan #snk #better with time.#sorry to all Mildreds and Daisys #<3

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