#because everyone seems to love her and I’m just a big fat no thanks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fraugwinska · 5 months ago

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Since your the queen of fluff, I had to make this request.

It’s more an angst/comfort/fluff, but I want to see Alastor dealing with his girlfriend/lover having body dysmorphia. The comfort in O Mother Mine for him was beautifully portrayed and I want Alastor to provide comfort back. Cant wait to see what you write🩷💖❤️

This was - and still is - an ask that hit very much home for me. Struggling with my self image and a long, very taxing time living with an ED since my teens, I had to take my time writing this - Because with all this history weighing in my own back pocket, I wanted to write something my younger self would've found comfort in reading. Which is why there's a lot of my own experiences woven in. Thank you for this ask, my dear. And to all who fight the fight against their own head each day - I see you. And you are worthy of every bit and piece of love, external and internal. I let our dear deer take it from here.

TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia - 3k words

“Why don't you want one? Do they look bad? Don't you like my chocolate chip cookies?”

Niffty stared at you, her one big eye glazed and watery, and you felt that at her whining remark all eyes were on you. Shit.

You had been at Charlie's group therapy activities for hours by now, everyone was exhausted and hangry enough for Vaggie to intervene and propose a lunch break. You managed to discreetly dodge every dish that was going around the table, making sure to have an alibi piece of bread and a few leaves of salad on your plate, just in case anyone would look at you funny, and it was good that you did. You glanced around the table to find Alastor of all people staring at you from the other side, and pretending obliviousness you turned to Angel with a smile, laughing at whatever he said, and shoved a few bits of salad into your mouth. ‘See, I'm eating, all good.’

You thought the worst was over when the others pushed their dishes into the middle of the table with content sighs and filled bellies. But then Niffty had been hopping around, offering everyone the masses of cookies she had been baking with Pentious the evening before, and Niffty was just not dodgeable.

“Aw Niff, of course I do, and they look amazing! But I'm so full, stuffed, I really can't take another bite.” Perhaps you imagined it, but you thought you heard a static crack of feedback and you shot a quick glance over to Alastor, but he was drinking his After-Lunch coffee with closed eyes, detached and apparently trying to drown out the babbling sinners around him. Irritated, you turned to the little, pouting cyclops girl again, your voice purposely louder as you said “Tell you what, I'll take one now and save it for later, okay? I can't pass up on your delicious treats, can I?”

That seemed to do the trick, and when you wrapped the cookie you took from a beaming Niffty into a napkin and slid it in your pocket, she and everyone else seemed satisfied and they turned their attention elsewhere - At least you hoped they were.

Another few long, dragging hours later Charlie finally released you all, and the communal groan of relief was only overlapped by the pitter-patter of multiple pairs of feet rushing behind Husk to the bar in desperate need for a strong drink. You were contemplating to join them, even if it was just for a glass of water, but that thought was instantly buried when Angel called over to you.

“Oy, toots, come on and drag ‘ya fat ass over here, I need ‘ya to tell sourpuss here to let me pluck his overgrown eyebrows. Bitch is starting to look like Frieda Kahlo.”

It was an innocent, friendly-meant remark. You knew that. Angel was your friend, you knew that. The laughter that followed his call was a reaction to his crassness. You knew that. But your already aching stomach twisted, and it took everything in you to keep your face from crumbling, and the smile on your lips felt fragile when you answered.

“No can do, Ange, I’m heading to my room. I feel a headache coming up. See you guys later.”

You hurried out the hall as fast as you allowed yourself without looking like you’re fleeing, passing Charlie in vivid conversation with Alastor, throwing her a dismissive wave of the hand when she broke off in the middle of her sentence to ask if you needed anything and ignored the red eyes that were burning your back as you speeded to the lift.

For a moment you felt safe inside the elevator, closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall to deeply breathe in and out to calm your racing thoughts when the doors closed. But then you opened them again, your reflection was staring back at you from the mirrored wide wall of the lift cabin. You stared blankly at the hated body in front of you, eyes mapping every curve that was too wide, every point your clothes wrinkled over a roll of fat.

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here…Fat ass..Fat...

You ran out of the cabin the moment the 'ding' announced your arrival at your floor and the doors opened, vision blurry from the pooling tears. As soon as you slammed the door to your room shut and turned the key in the lock behind you, you sobbed, leaning your head on the hard wood of your bedroom door. Tears were streaking your face as you sank down to sit on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking from suppressed and failed attempts to cry silently. The room was silent, but your head was loud. Too loud.

Honey, you can't go to school like that, you look like a stuffed sausage. Go back and change…

No, pumpkin, the hamburger is for daddy. You’ll eat a salad, like mommy. Don’t you want to be as beautiful as mommy…

A Bikini? Wow, someone's feeling brave today...

You'd look so beautiful babe, if you'd only lose a few pounds...

Oy toots, get your fat ass over here...

"Shut up, shut up, shut up." It was no use. Begging them to stop never helped. Your hands pressed down on your ears but they couldn’t silence the insistent, ghostly voices inside, louder and louder and louder, repeating the same sentences over and over again and you wanted to rip them off, just to maybe get them out, deafen them, make them…

“Stop that now, Darling." Two hands that were not your own were on yours, long fingers peeling them away from your ears and taking them in tender but firm grips to pull your arms apart. Those foreign hands were dark and warm and much bigger than yours, holding you by the wrists as they pulled you away from the door and back onto your feet. Without releasing them, you felt a chest pressing against your back as the hands on your wrists guided them into an embrace, cageing you with crossed arms in front of you in warmth and the firm, humming body of Alastor. "There now, that's much better isn't it. Now breathe, dearest, with me. Do it with me."

Your mind was a haze of scattered and pained thoughts and fears that were struggling and lashing out to the surface, but they quieted into soft whimpers and whizzing like a dying steam train with every steady, deep inhale Alastor took with you, his chest rising against your back and his breath steady in your ears. He waited a few moments after he had made you breathe normally again before letting go and gently turning you to face him, hands now on your shoulders as you avoided his eyes, but when he looked at your face and your tear streaked cheeks he wiped the wetness away from your skin with the pad of his thumb.

"Why did you come?" You sounded husk and defeated. You knew your jig was up. You've been found out. At last.

"How did I not come sooner would be the better question, darling." Alastor answered, leaving his hand cupped on your cheek, thumb still in mid-stroke as he talked to your averted face. His voice was clear, even-keel, just loud enough for you to hear. And you heard him all the better for not facing him, his signature transatlantic accent and theatrical flourish in his tone, always so strong and prominent, was missing entirely as he continued. "For a few weeks now I've suspected that something was not right with you, my dear. Though I didn't want to press the matter, today has confirmed this. You've not eaten any of the food prepared, spare the few bits of greenery that wouldn't even nourish the roaches that pester this hotel, and we both know you only did because you knew you were being watched."

Watched by him. You sighed quietly at the accuracy, finally turning to look at him, awaiting to find judgment and ridicule, though the red deer demon didn't move at all. He just carried on his stroke with the thumb under your eyes, which started tearing up again, his expression strangely soft.

"My shadows reported that you were hiding food given to you just to throw it away later, and I took notice how you constantly avoided reflective surfaces. Darling, your image must haunt you and I cannot imagine the reason why. I find myself asking: What would drive you to starve yourself, to hide from mirrors and cut your eyes to any remarks looking for underlying maliciousness?"

What a loaded question, asked so simply. And he seemed honestly confused. No smirk, no tilted head. You paused for a long while before answering him.

"You... you won't understand, Alastor."

"Then help me to, darling." He coaxed you, now moving both his hands to hold your face and pull your head closer to lean his forehead to yours, looking firmly in your eyes. And it dawned on you then that the radio demon, the overlord who never revealed weakness, never showed real emotions or shared much with anyone, the one demon who walked these halls smiling and sneering with menace and mystery and endless pride, was purposely and genuinely showing you that he cared.

Maybe it was the fatigue and the despair finally getting the best of your defense system. Maybe it was because he wasn't just anybody. Alastor was so many things but most importantly, he was your friend, had been ever since you and him found mutual interests in each other in countless nights that were spent in quiet by the fireplace in the hall. He liked your level-headedness, your ability to listen, really listen, patiently and actively. You liked his vivaciousness, the vast knowledge of him that he could share when one was just willing to let him talk. Yes, the others were nice, and yes, you felt close to all of them after a few months. But you felt the closest to him, proven by the fact that not Charlie knocked on your door, or Angel noticed you were paler and thinner than weeks ago. But Alastor. Maybe you just needed that final push and he had given it to you.

So you spilled. Through sobs, tears and sighs, you told him everything:

From your family that wouldn't stop comparing you with your thinner friends, fostering a hatred for food because of misguided care. You shared that your health became less and less important with every diet and lost pound, seeing your aching stomach as a sign of sucess. How you'd hate yourself for lack of discipline when you starved yourself so much your brain snapped and you ate any- and everything you found until you felt sick and disgusting. How your friends while alive were never intentionally hurtful, yet dismissive about your insecurities, complaining to you about their sizes while you felt like they were mocking you, being stick thin and conventionally beautiful. And you told him about your one and only boyfriend, who accepted the relationship under the pretense that you'd change to fit his preferences, always waiting for you to drop weight he saw as too much, to shape you the way he wanted you to be, threatening to keep you secret from his friends and family until you did. And you did. But you paid the bitter price - got cheated on while you counted calories, and when you finally reached the set weight he dictated, he left. Leaving you hungry and confused, thin and sick and so, so lost.

With every word his hold on you grew tighter and tighter. But so did yours on him. This time, it was him who listened quietly, never interrupting, and only at the mention of that asshole ex is when he made a sound, his ears went flat against his skull as a low growl rumbled in his throat, but his expression remained perfectly stoic, absorbing your words quietly. After you finished you leaned heavily against Alastors chest and hid your face there, feeling drained and guilty for soaking his expensive coat with your pitiful tears. Your entire body was numb with exhaustion and pain, so was the emptiness inside of you that your self-deprecating thoughts have been inhabiting for years, and you dreaded the response Alastor could give to your pathetic life-story.

"All those people have proven to you to be thoroughly disappointing." was what Alastor said first, speaking very softly with his chin leaning against your scalp. "It makes the blood call for revenge when thinking about the throes you've had to put up with. You don't owe anybody to change anything about yourself that you do not wish to."

You couldn't hold back another tear that rolled down your nose and onto Alastor's shirt, clinging tighter to him and shaking your head against his shoulder, nuzzling his shirt in desperate and trained denial of comforting words.

"Aren't they right though? I'm not like Charlie, or Angel, or even you. I'm not...they are so… just... look at me." You muttered and tried to push out of the hug to avoid looking him in the eye, but the demon didn't give.

"Oh, I am." He gave you a stern stare, unintimidating and almost tender as he pulled you back closer. "Darling, I am looking at you, more than you think. And all I see is a strong, intelligent and beautiful little sinner, so willing to give everyone more grace and gentleness than herself that she hides from every compliment she deems unworthy of her, ashamed of her lovely shape that was the source of so much torment." Alastor sighed, cupping your face in a loose grip, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everyone of us has flaws, we are inherently imperfect creatures, some more than others, and yet you've managed to convince yourself those flaws and imperfections define you in their entirety."

Your instincts told you to flee, to run from this kindness that was offered to you so alluringly. It has to be a trap, your head told you, don't trust those words, don't give in. And you almost tried to, your muscles tensed as if to bolt, your breath quickened as if about to run, your heart pounded as if preparing to fight his arms for release. But you didn't.

Maybe, a long forgotten voice spoke in your mind, maybe it wasn't a trick. Maybe he was earnest, like he had been the past couple months in your company. He's here now, isn't he? Holding you and reassuring you and calming you in a way no one ever had. He hadn't put an inch between him and you to allow your doubts space to creep back in, keeping you at his side - not just now, but over the last weeks continuously, had never spoken ill of you or tried to change you, had no agenda, nothing to gain from lying to you.

Alastor smiled when you sank back into his arms, and this time when he stroked your tears away, he let his fingers come to rest at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. And without a word he leaned forward, eyes half closed, and kissed you on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, as if to wait for your reaction, asking a question without words. And you answered it ever so silently, turning your head to meet them with your own.

The kiss was a revelation of truth. Because he was kissing you the way you always longed to be kissed.

There wasn't passion in it, it wasn't hungry and fast or hard and demanding. It wasn't meant to make you hot or make your legs weak, but to tell you that you were cared for, that you were accepted exactly the way you were, imperfections included, and that all the days you've suffered for the wrong reasons were gone with the past and needn't to be re-visited. That you were enough. You always have been.

When he parted from you, Alastor looked content. More than that, actually. Not smiling wide as usually but with eyes sparkling in mirth that could have easily matched that of Charlie on a particularly good day. When he leaned into you again, you almost expected another kiss, but he reached into your pocket, pulling the napkin with Niffty's cookie inside out of your pocket, holding it up expectantly.

"Now, I think it's high time you feed yourself, darling - and you did promise our little Niffty you'd enjoy this later, which it is now."

You stared, first at Alastor, then at the baked good, the guilty conscience you've nursed for so many years creeping back into your thoughts.

"Alastor, I don't know... if I can."

He tilted his head contemplating, turning the cookie in his hand before he snapped it in half, handing you one half while he brought the other to his mouth and raised a brow.

"We'll share it then."

This gesture was everything. It was everything, because you knew he really didn't care for sweet treats. But he cared for you.

You took your half from his hands, feeling the corners of your lips pull into a small smile at the way he scrunched his nose at the sticky thing in his hands when you both bit in. But his free hand found yours, entwining your fingers as he suffered through his bite, and as you watched him him struggling to keep an unfazed expression, you thought that - while Niffty might've put in her best efforts - nothing she or anyone could make could ever sate your hunger more than his lips could.

Tagging my lovely testreaders @bapple117 and @macabr3-barbi3, who really encouraged and reassured me. I love you both, as well as the others in Bapples discord server (TRUST US and join NOW) who never tire of lifting me up when I'm struggling <3

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel husk #Habin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #body dysmorphia #eating disorder #quickfic #angst and fluff #soft alastor #you are worthy #you are loved #you are not alone

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 4 months ago

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I might be wrong here, but I do wonder if people thinking that Taylor made it through fame as a child without any trauma because she did her damnedest to keep it all private. And yet I think a lot of the things that made people raise their eyebrows was because of the trauma she has dealt with behind the scenes while clinging to whatever privacy she could get.

The way her ED is talked about is part of that. The lack of acknowledgement that she could have an ED (never mind her stating she has dealt with one) because she has always been skinny. When she put the scale scene in the Anti-Hero music video, she was being honest, but people took it as "how could she call herself fat when she has always been skinny" while ignoring the fact that Taylor has dealt with disordered eating in the past.

This also comes out in the response to WAOLOM. The song seems to clearly be about fame and the asylum is the world of celebrity. However, people used it as a chance to mock Taylor for calling her childhood an asylum. She's privileged, so how could she have suffered. Her childhood was good (something she has never denied), so how could she have struggled.

And here in lies the issue with how trauma is perceived. People seem to think it needs to be a big event like witnessing something violent (or surviving something violent). It can often be something like not having your emotional needs met even if your home was an otherwise good home.

And this brings us to 2016: look at how thanK you aIMee was received. It was called a diss track about Kim instead of acknowledging what Kim did (as Taylor noted in her Times POTY interview). It's been eight years and people are still not able to reckon with the fact that she was framed by Kim and friends and how poorly she was treated by everyone including the GP. It's easier to say Taylor should let it go instead of realize that there is a music video that features her naked wax figure body (and other women's bodies) online without their consent.

It's more comfortable to instead say "she's not fat, her putting that in a music video is fatphobic" than it is to actually look at how someone who has a lot of protections around her including loving family who didn't try to take her money or anything. Because if Taylor can be traumatized by fame, what does that say about others who have fewer protections? Accepting that Taylor has dealt with trauma also takes away the ability to say "oh she ALWAYS makes herself the victim when she isn't one". Because she has been a victim, she's just found a way to work through it and make something of it even when it is hard for her.

Oh I absolutely think the fact that she kept things so private and kept things together in public, and has always downplayed her struggles in public until recent years, along with the privilege that comes with being a wealthy white person, plays into why people dismiss her and her pain and trauma (sorry) now and mock and even weaponize it.

And because she’s so private about things (as is her right), and she spent years in people-pleasing mode where she painted over it all, and also because media literacy and literary analysis is dead, people don’t pick up what she’s put down a lot of the time in her music. Which is their right, not everyone is going to be familiar with a catalogue containing hundreds of songs like Swfities may be. But it grinds my gears that people downplay what she went through because like you said, it’s not just high school-style beef, there were some deeply traumatic events wrapped up in all of it.

I also think a lot of it has to do with the dismissal of women and their struggles and their existence in society in this moment but that is a whole other conversation I’m not platforming at this moment but. Well. You all know.

#too tired to say anything else #this was all spurred on by something else but you know it encompasses all the things #because *waves hands*#i generall try not to think about things because when i do they make me angry #like this lol #like this is about Taylor but it’s also about everything #iykwim #I’m having a moment today idk

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ourloveisforthelovely · 2 years ago

Text

Black Heart Part 4

Regulus Black AU

Request: Will you write a Regulus x Reader fic where Regulus is older than the reader? She comes to help the Order and Regulus falls in love with her. The relationship isn’t easy because of the war and Regulus’ denial that he would be a good boyfriend.

Summary: Admitting that he was in love had never been something that Regulus wanted to do. Now that you were in his life, Regulus didn’t know how to react. Should he love you or push you away just like he had everyone else?

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Link to Part 3

_____

“Yes, it's what I want. You can help me learn to love properly. Help me learn, and I’ll make you queen of everything I have…”

Over the next few days, Regulus’ words seemed to stay in your head. Those words had been without a doubt the most romantic thing that Regulus had ever said to you.

Everything will be fine…somehow.

You thought as you stirred that night's dinner. Playing housewife…girlfriend…whatever didn’t seem so bad.

“Mistress Y/n, Kreacher can fix dinner. That’s Kreacher’s job.”

You turned to look at the house elf standing in the corner looking totally confused. The night you moved in, you heard Regulus talking to Kreacher about being nice to you. Hearing him say “my girlfriend” and “my baby on the way” made your heart happy. While Regulus told you that he was happy, parts of you still wondered if he was just talking to appease you.

Regulus doesn’t talk to appease anyone.

That was the second thought that you had. In all of the time that you had known Regulus, you knew he never said anything to make anyone happy or preserve good feelings. If something needed to be said and it would hurt the other person’s feelings in some way…Regulus just said it and went on with his day.

He’s the perfect person to have around if you want to know if your ass looks fat in something.

Sirius commented to you a few days ago when you were worrying about how big you were about to get. That comment also earned Sirius a book to the back of the head from Regulus.

Regulus meanwhile, stepped into the house and froze. The sound of soft music and what smelt like nice candles burning caught his attention right away. He hung up his coat and took a few deep breaths.

This is nice.

Regulus thought with a small smile. It was definitely nice coming home to a not-so-empty house. It was even nicer that you were making Grimmauld Place more “homey” and less “haunted house.” In all of the years that Regulus had been on planet Earth nothing had ever made his house feel like home. He was used to walking into screaming, yelling, and Merlin only knew what else his parents were up to. With you…it was totally different. He came home from work to a kiss and food that he didn’t have to cook (or food Kreacher had to cook).

It had been a few weeks since you moved in and Regulus was wondering why he was even concerned about it in the first place…

Because I’m me.

Regulus thought, answering his own question. He was afraid that you would get on his nerves. Regulus never liked living with anyone so how would he get used to a woman who shared every bit of his sacred space? He secretly feared that he would loathe seeing you put your stuff all over his house but he didn’t. You were making Grimmauld Place livable and not so lonely. Regulus was actually enjoying waking up to someone snuggled against him. Having someone who genuinely cared about him and asked about his day was certainly new. It was…nice.

“Master Regulus?”

Regulus turned to Kreacher who stepped into the hallway.

“Yes, Kreacher?”

Regulus asked, softly. He wouldn’t say it but he was thankful that you were so kind to Kreacher. You were treating the old elf more like a family pet and for that, Regulus would forever be grateful.

“Mistress Y/n is cooking again. Kreacher can’t do his job…”

Regulus tilted his head to the side.

“Kreacher just let her be. It’s fine. You don’t have to do everything anymore.”

“But this is most irregular, master. Kreacher isn’t a pet…”

Regulus smirked.

“Kreacher, you don’t have to do everything anymore. All I ask is that you keep an eye on Y/n when I’m gone. How has she been today?”

Kreacher looked thoughtfully at Regulus’ question. Regulus had asked Kreacher to keep an eye on you one night after you had gone to sleep. Kreacher had a feeling that you weren’t in on the “know” on that subject and he kept it to himself. If Regulus asked Kreacher to keep an eye on you then clearly it was important.

“Mistress Y/n appears to be fine. She did get sick this morning. Kreacher suspects it's the baby causing that problem. Kreacher offered to make her tea and she did it herself…why is she so stubborn?”

Regulus couldn’t help laughing about that one. Yes, you were stubborn. You were nearly as stubborn as he was. Regulus sighed at the thought of you being sick…

So it begins…

He thought before turning back to Kreacher.

“She’s used to doing everything on her own, Kreacher. Just overlook it. Get to know her, you’ll like her.”

Kreacher nodded.

“Mistress Y/n is nice. She must be special for you to like her, Master Regulus.”

Regulus glanced toward the kitchen door with a smile

“Yeah, she is. Excuse me.”

Regulus walked past Kreacher and stepped into the kitchen. You stood at the stove quietly humming.

“What are you doing?”

Regulus asked. It was a silly question but it just came out of his mouth. You turned, giving him a small smirk.

“Playing house girlfriend.”

You took extra care not to say the word “wife.” Something about that word clearly freaked Regulus out. Even if being his wife was the end goal…it was best not to mention it now. You were pleased to see how well Regulus had accepted the terms of the new living arrangement.

“I don’t believe this house has ever been used for that.”

Regulus commented before coming over to wrap his arms around you from behind. His eyes fluttered shut as he breathed in the sweet scent of the vanilla perfume that you were wearing.

Merlin, this is nice.

He thought quietly.

“Well, it is now.”

You replied, wanting to say more but decided not to. Regulus kissed the top of your head and moved to sit down at the table.

“What did you do today?”

He asked. You turned, after putting the bread back into the oven.

“I had to work until noon…more kids sticking things in their noses then I went and had lunch with Tonks. Oh, Sirius is coming over for dinner. I think he’s decided to leave Tonks and Remus alone for an evening.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. Sirius would miss no chance to eat your cooking. It was no secret to Regulus that Sirius was over the moon for you in a friendly way. Sirius had made the comment to Regulus that you deserved a medal for getting that stick out of his butt.

I’m glad that you found a woman that I can tolerate. Y/n deserves a medal for getting that stick out of your butt and making you tolerable.

Regulus shook his head at that comment. Sirius had been on him for years about his less-than-stellar track record with keeping a girlfriend. Now that you were here, Sirius didn’t have anything to fuss about so he was just going on and on about what an angel you were and Regulus better not fuck this up.

“Don’t fuck this up.”

That had been Sirius’ comment when he came to see Regulus earlier that afternoon. Regulus had ignored most of what Sirius said until the word love came up.

“I think that you are in love with her and you just can’t admit it.”

Love…Regulus felt nervous at the thought of that word. After not having that word in his vocabulary for 35 years, he was almost afraid to think about it now. Looking up at you, Regulus had to get a grip on the surge of nervousness that went through him. Did he love you? Regulus still wasn’t for sure?

Yes, you love her. Just get over it. She isn’t Walburga and you aren’t Orion.

The soft side of his mind commented. Regulus was well aware that you weren’t anything like his mother but he was still slightly uncomfortable with uttering the phrase “I love you.”

You had come close to saying I love you several times to him but always stopped yourself when Regulus began to squirm.

I’m being a dick.

Regulus’ mind added. He knew that you saw him squirming when you came close to saying I love you. In ways, he was thankful that you hadn’t said it because he didn’t know if he would be able to say it back. In others, he wished that you just said it and ripped the band aid off.

Would it be so bad to be told that he was love? Parts of Regulus really didn’t think so. He had never been told that he was loved before…except by Sirius and that really didn’t count. Regulus knew that he would have to say it eventually. You deserved to know that you meant something to him. Regulus didn’t want you thinking forever that he was only with you because of the baby. You didn’t need to spend your life thinking, “If he hadn’t gotten me pregnant then we wouldn’t be together.” That wouldn’t be fair and even Regulus, with his aversion to love, could agree to that.

“So he’s going to come to haunt us?”

Regulus had to get himself out of his thoughts. You giggled before turning back to the stove.

“It's either that or eat more of those Ramen Noodles that he thinks is a delicacy.”

Regulus shook his head. How Sirius was still standing vertically some days was a wonder to him.

“So, tomorrow is the healer appointment…right?”

Regulus asked, changing the subject. He wanted to get his mind off of his brother. You stirred the contents of the soup before nodding.

“Yes, at 9:30. Are you still coming?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Why would you think that I wouldn’t come?”

You turned, looking at Regulus carefully. His grey eyes were locked on you in a way that made you nervous. Whether you would admit it or not, he was one of the most intense people that you had ever met.

“I didn’t know if you changed your mind or not…a lot of men don’t go to the first appointments…”

Regulus stood up and walked over to you. He tilted your face to his. You sighed against his mouth as he kissed you softly.

“I’m not one of those stupid guys.”

You were relieved by that comment. Maybe it was silly to worry that Regulus would not want to be involved but you couldn’t help it. You were concerned that he would be scared off once he realized what he was really in for.

“You say that now.”

You whispered. Regulus shook his head.

“I mean it. I don’t care how…this experience is about to be I am not going to be like my father and let you go through this alone.”

The next morning, you sat beside Regulus at the healer’s office. You hadn’t said much since checking in and neither had Regulus. His eyes were focused on the floor in front of him.

“So…what is going to happen exactly?”

He questioned. This had been the third time that Regulus had asked this since yesterday. You smiled and squeezed his hand.

“They’ll probably do an ultrasound with the machine the muggles us and let us hear the heartbeat. If there is anything wrong…they’ll let us know.”

Regulus looked up with wide eyes. He was thankful that you were a healer too but until this lady, the two of you were seeing said all was good…Regulus would be a wreck.

“What could be wrong? Like the kid have more than two legs? With at all being at all to specific, what could happen?”

You took a breath.

“There could be a lot of things…no heartbeat…not being formed correctly…genetic…”

“That’s too specific.”

Regulus replied, ending the conversation. You gently rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m sure it will all be fine. I’ve been taking vitamins and being extra careful.”

Regulus only nodded. He took a few deep breaths before speaking again.

“This healer that we are seeing…is she any good?”

You nodded.

“Dr. West is a very good healer. I’ve worked with her a lot. She’s been doing this for years. I really like her too.”

Regulus nodded muttering “doing this for years” as if to comfort himself. The last thing that he wanted was some novice healer straight out of school to be taking care of you.

“Reggie, it will be fine. I know that you are nervous but…”

“Yes, I’m nervous. I have never been more scared of anything in my life! I wasn’t even scared of Lord Voldemort this bad…and that’s saying something.”

Regulus was relieved when you giggled. After that comparison came out of his mouth, he was afraid that you would be pissed. What kind of man compares his baby on the way to the fucking dark lord…Regulus that’s who.

“It's alright to be scared. I am too. I know exactly what’s going to happen and I’m still scared.”

Regulus turned to you looking more relieved.

“I’m actually glad to hear you say that. I was afraid that I was being a big dumb jerk for being scared of a baby. Y/n, I don’t have any idea what I’m doing here. How are we supposed to know what this kid needs? Will we be damn mind readers? What if this baby starts crying and we can’t make it hush? I am freaking losing my mind…”

You reached over and kissed Regulus on the cheek.

“It will be fine, Regulus. We’ll figure it out. The fact that you are here and worried tells me that you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be here nor feel any emotions to this.”

Regulus only nodded. He wondered how his own father didn’t care when he and Sirius were born. Regulus knew that Orion didn’t come to any healer appointments nor was he in the hospital when they were born.

He didn’t care. We were only part of the status.

Regulus thought, answering his own question. His panicked thoughts were interrupted when a nurse stepped out. She looked right at Y/n and smiled.

“I knew that I would see you one day. Come on back.”

You gently squeezed, Regulus’ hand before standing and walking back to the room.

Regulus was silent the whole time the nurse did all of the vital information phase of the exam. He was beyond thankful that you so effortlessly handled everything with grace and confidence. Where his confidence was, he wasn’t for sure.

A few moments later an older woman in a white lab coat stepped in. She automatically smiled.

“Hi, Y/n. I see someone finally caught you.”

You chuckled before turning to Regulus.

“This is my boyfriend. He does talk just not right at this moment.”

The older woman turned to look at Regulus and nodded.

Another petrified father…

Dr. West had seen plenty of those over the years. She knew, with confidence, Regulus would start speaking soon.

“He’ll be fine. Let’s have a look at you, sweetie.”

You lay back and kept your eyes on Regulus’ face as he watched Dr. West’s every move. Had the situation not been so serious, you would have made a comment about how pale he was. Squeezing his hand, you hoped to provide him with some comfort.

“This is interesting.”

Dr. West commented. You poked your head up knowing that healers typically didn’t say “This is interesting” if something interesting wasn’t happening. Those were words that could rock someone’s world.

“What is interesting?”

You asked, carefully. Regulus’ eyes were wide with fear. The last thing that he wanted to hear was interesting. He wanted to hear “Mr. Black, your baby is fine. Everything looks normal and we’ll see you next time.” He was not getting that now. Had Regulus not promised himself that he would keep a grip on himself for you, he would probably have had a panic attack by now.

“Is the baby fine?”

You asked. Dr. West helped you sit back up.

“Oh yes.”

You nodded in relief and now self-confidence. The baby was fine. That was what you needed to hear. Getting up off of the table, you grabbed Regulus’ hand and tugged him toward the door. All of your fears were vanishing now that you had the knowledge that your baby was fine. You could do this after all!

“See Reg, everything is fine. We have nothing to worry about.”

Dr. West tossed her exam gloves away before chuckling to herself. She knew that she was about to totally rock your world.

“Your babies are fine.”

Regulus was the first to stop. He turned right around with wide eyes as you joined in.

“Excuse me, did you say babies?”

Regulus choked out. Had he heard the older women correctly? Did she babies…as in plural? He quickly turned to you looking absolutely petrified and in total shock.

“Did she say babies?”

You said, coming back into the room. The word “babies” had finally hit home and now you had to make sure that your hearing was correct. Dr. West grinned.

“I did. You’re having twins.”

_____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @livshifts @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsval @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @f4iryluvy @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @quinis @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @mentally-unstable-hoe @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc24 @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @un-lovesherself @ad-astra-again @rubyroscoe1 @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @melaninnbarbie @criminalyetminimal @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @wontlookaway @sprnaturallover @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner @marichromatic @dumybitch

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ludinusdaleth · 2 months ago

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Heya! Discovered-that-I-get-really-turned-on-by-fat-body-love-because-of-this anon. Don’t feel bad about that nickel at all, this is honestly really lovely

I’m also trans and now 2 months on T and I can literally already feel my body monologue going from “feeling icky about weight gain” to “but actually that would be kinda sexy though”. I’m not fat, but…would that be so bad?

As a small thanks may I offer…

If she hadn’t been there for apocalypse level events, I think the Everlight would have really enjoyed growing fat. Really enjoyed the aspect of mortality that is being embodied, but more than that, would have really enjoyed sharing in food, this central love language, with her mortal loved ones. She is the paragon of hugs, let her have some weight on her.

(Sidenote: chubby pike is canon, as is Scanlan gaining weight, and I love that for them 💜 . But. Genuinely fat Pike has my heart. Like femme muscle chub not-so-little monstah? Hell yeah)

Likewise, in the opposite direction, fat Asmodeus? Asmodeus who wants to take up all the space, who revels in being something some people are disgusted by and indulging instead.

Hell, the arch heart growing fat and seeing their body as an art form. Beauty doesn’t have to be thin; beauty can be round arms and artfully posing your fat rolls and having more room for tattoos.

The wild mother being fat in times of bounty and comfort, and preferring it to being bony or lithe, because she feels safer this way, gentler this way, more physically comfortable with some padding.

Fat Gods 💜

aah! love these

ive always felt every character of ashleys radiated chubby energy. the everlight is no exception. probably due to my own journey, but i cant untangle redemption & positive change from gaining weight. it's inherent comfort. it seems pike saw that too.

i am always invested in fat devils, because debauchery is literally part of their territory. i headcanon teven as a massive musclebear, so why not asmodeus? he no doubt shifts his body constantly - if everyone sees him differently, may as well make a show of it. he grins when he notices someone blush at this form, knowing their interests immediately.

i live and breathe the fat elf agenda, so i love an elf god being big. i really love cr has broken elven stereotypes constantly - corellon as THE elf progenitor played by a black man, many of the elves/fae having facial hair, and we even know a few who are fat! what makes an elf isnt some proximity to whiteness/thinness but rather how stunning they look, how strikingly beautiful that a human needs a moment to process it.

i dont know if you know anon, as your phrasing implies it's headcanon, but your idea for melora is exactly canon! her presentation as asha was pale & sickly like the burned world, but we know now in this age of exandria, at least pre-calamity 2, she has the round & fertile figure of a true wildmother. the land has grown bountiful & lush and so she has too. heres art of her right now!

im honored you find this foray into fat headcanons lovely. and im glad you're becoming comfortable with the idea of it. when i first looked for trans resources a decade ago i was bombarded with nothing but tips for "keeping weight off" and being a gym bro, and seeing others also see they could get bearish and accept it in this day and age is heavenly. not everyone has to engage with it but just being able to deconstruct the fatphobia so present within our spaces is worthy in itself.

#long post #van speaks #asks #the bear agenda #critical role #asmodeus #melora #sarenrae #corellon

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thecheckeredchaser · 7 months ago

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Ch 8

Insured Gains

Chapter 9- Deeds and Words

Jake did not live far at all from the restaurant, which the notion of only heightened Alexis’ arousal, especially paired with Jake’s heavy breathing as the base line. She was beyond hot for Jake. She watched him tap on the wheel impatiently, rubbing his belly with the other. “I’m just around the corner up there,” he said with a huff. Alexis noticed he was actually rubbing more than just his belly. Jake must have been on her exact level.

“I am so incredibly turned on by you Jake,” she said, running her hand softly over his belly. He moaned at her touch and burped softly, with a sigh. “Such a stuffed fat piggy, huh?”

“I’d have to say so,” he conceded. “Can’t believe I ate so much. I’m glad you are feeling as hot as I do, because there are so many reasons someone would not want to get intimate with me right now.”

“Lucky for you I’m no ‘someone’. And I’ll forgive you for being such an old man. ‘Intimate’?” she teased. He shrugged with fluttering eyes, as he pulled into the driveway to a substantial house.

“What would you prefer?” he asked, looking at her seemingly to delay having to move his body out of the car. Alexis lowered her eyes at him and smiled playfully. She leaned closer to him slowly, stopping right in front of where he had met her.

“I guess I’d call it fucking,” she said confidently. Jake blinked at her in shock from her diction. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him hard. Her fingertips dancing on the curve of his belly and running through his thick hair. He moaned into her mouth and ran his own hand up and down her butt and thigh. They eventually pulled away, Jake even more out of breath than during the ride home.

“Let’s go fuck,” Jake growled at her. He heaved himself out of the car and did his best to not waddle to the door. The key was in and the pair, but seconds after. Jake locked the door and pulled her down a hallway. Alexis in the seconds she had could see he had a pretty nice modern aesthetic. His house seemed neat and tidy, but she could see the remains of pizza previously ordered, left on the coffee table, not that there was anything but packaging left. She felt her brain swell at the thought of Jake Andrews, her perfectly professional boss, who was always neat and organized, pigging out slobbishly in the privacy of his home. Upon entering his room she could smell his cologne hanging in the air. His bed was already made, and nothing looked out of place. He must only be a mess when it came to food. Jake kicked off his shoes with a grunt and stood beside the bed, watching Alexis look around. She took off her heels and pulled her stockings off, letting her toes wriggle on the thick carpet. She looked at Jake who looked absolutely massive and sexier than she had ever seen him. His arms stuck out just to accommodate the swell of his belly, which was protruding straight in front of him.

“Oh Jake,” she said, walking up to him. Her fingers were instantly on his big belly. She shuddered with a purr. “You are so big.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smirk. “I can’t believe you are here right now,” he said, pulling her hair behind her ear and kissing her.

“Mr. Andrews,” she said, looking up at him, “I have been wanting to be here since I laid eyes on you.” She reached for his jacket and he began pulling it off. “I have been wanting to see you out of these jackets, even though you are delightfully scrumptious in them. But they have truly been my enemy, blocking all peeks of your delicious belly,” she growled, running her hands down his sides, landing on his plentiful love handles.

“They do their job,” he said with a wink.

“I hope enduring everyone’s comments and prodding was worth catching my attention,” she said, reaching for his belt, which was straining taught under his gut.

“I think everything to do with you is worth it Alexis. ”She gently maneuvered her fingers in the nonexistent space between his overhanging belly and buckle, and managed to pull it loose. Jake sighed heavily in relief. “That feels so much better, “he exclaimed, blushing a little from her touch. Her small delicate hands shoved under his heavy gut was a level of contrast that could not be ignored.

“You stuffed this gut pretty full. You need all the space you can get.” She unbuttoned his pants and began to unzip them, his hard on all too apparent.

“Why is it now that I’m starting to feel nervous?” Jake confessed, as she freed his pants from the little shelf of his butt, causing them to fall to the floor. Alexis watched Jake's powerful legs as they stepped out of the pants on the floor, unable to ignore his monstrously strong calves. Thick thighs hugged by black boxer briefs. His shirt hanging down too far to reveal what she had most been looking forward to seeing.

“You have absolutely nothing to be worried about,” she said, her voice dripping in desire. She slipped out of her skirt and blouse, as an offering to distract Jake. He eagerly grabbed her thick butt and ran his hand down her flat stomach.

“You are truly so small,” Jake gushed. Alexis melted at his touch. She loved to be complimented by him. “I’m sure everyone was wondering what you were doing at a buffet with me,” he said, running his hand over her tight chin. “And what they must have thought when they saw you making my plates for me, even more hoggish than I had.” She shuddered at his words and from his fingers running over her breast. “They must have known it was your fault,” Jake said into her ear, gently placing her hand on his belly. She started running her fingers over it, not wanting to over jostle his stuffed gut, but desperate to make close contact. “Max must think you are such a deviant Alexis. And worst of all, he’s right.” Alexis moaned at his words. “I hope it was clear how badly you wanted me to eat all that food. Anyone who looked into those eyes would be able to see it. ‘She is really into that fat pig’.” Alexis gave a light squish to his under belly and Jake was burping seconds later. “Especially super bloated pigs. Uuurrp.” Jake took her hands and placed them at the top of his collar. Her body vibrated with excitement. “I’m sure you have been thinking about this for a bit. I really hope I don’t disappoint.” Alexis could hardly hear him. She felt the rush between her legs intensify as she got to the last buttons, which she had to fight his belly in order to free them. He wore a white undershirt that she could practically see through with how it was stretching to his form. Jake held her hands at the hem of his shirt and she shot her eyes to him. He looked a little scared.

“You could only disappoint me by delaying my view any longer Jake. I am already so hot for you. I can only become more so.” He eased up, and moved his hands away. Alexis did not hesitate for an instant. She literally couldn’t. She was speechless when she rolled the shirt up to the top of his belly, and gasped further when Jake pulled the rest over his head. “Gorgeous,” she whispered. Jake’s belly, though absolutely packed full, had a thick soft layer of fat all around that hung somewhat freely. He was softer than any of the guys in college she had been with before. He was tan all over, which was a pleasant surprise, as was the hair that congregated at the base of his belly button and at the center of his chest. His chest was not as heavy as his belly was, but was thick and slouched to the sides a bit. Alexis breathed out heavily.

“I guess I’m still looking fuckable?” he said.

“Get on your back,” she retorted, unclasping her bra and tossing it aside. Jake raised his eyebrows and gingerly lowered himself on to the bed and shifted to the center. Alexis straddled his thighs and put her hands across his belly. “You were absolutely amazing today Jake,” she said, her breathing pitched with excitement. “I loved watching you put one thing after another into this big hog belly,” she said, shifting it from side to side ever so slightly. Jake groaned, half in pain and half in pleasure. “Too much,” she asked concerned.

“No, just perfect,” he moaned. “I am so damn full.” She lightly jiggled him again. “Braawwp.”

“Ungh. You are such a stuffed pig Jake! I love when you burp for me. It really shows how full you are. How hard you worked to reach your goal.” Jake burped again, as he poked his finger into his own belly button.

Alexis’ legs tightened their grip on his thick thighs in ecstasy.

“You can play with it, but please be nice,” he said, cautiously, as if he knew she had the potential to be less delicate with his belly if not warned. She gently poked the tip of her finger into the deep hole that was surrounded by pillowy fat.

“You are so sexy,” she said, gripping his cock in her hand as she stroked him. Her fingers were infatuated with how thick his belly was right by the opening. She gently poked a little deeper pushing a low gurgly burp from Jake. He groaned in response, but sounded just as turned on as relieved. Alexis could wait no longer. She pulled his underwear down and threw them to the side, shifting out of her own. She lowered herself carefully onto Jake’s substantial erection and pressed her own small abdomen into his massive one.

“My god,” Jake gasped. He pulled his belly up to readjust its position, and Alexis groaned as she felt him slip deeper inside her and his belly push more against her. “You feel incredible Alexis,” he exclaimed, with eyes pressed shut in pleasure. Alexis planted her hand on his chest and watched his belly gently bob and slosh into her as she pumped into him. She reached one hand to the back of his head, the hair on the nape of his neck damp with sweat. She jumped at his lips and kissed him hungrily. She was fighting the desire to just grab his belly hard, but when she put her hands on the sides of his belly, she could feel the ripples of their thrusting, satisfying her urge.

“You are so fat Jake,” she hissed at him.

“I had help,” he said, squeezing her butt with both hands. He started to use his arms to slam her into his body, his hips buckling form under her. His breath was picking up, which was only getting Alexis closer. “Tell me how good I did,” he stammered, desperately. Alexis bit her lip for a microsecond.

“You were such a greedy fat pig Jake. I couldn’t believe how much you managed to stuff in this belly. The way you greedily drank that shake, filling up your belly with its creaminess. You super sexy stuffed belches,” she said, gripping him a little, forcing a small piggish burp out of him. She gasped, her back arching and her fingers grabbing at him as a reflex. “You are so incredibly hot,” she said, thrusting as hard as she could, her breathing faster than ever, her chest bouncing as she did.

“I’m gonna,” Jake said, straining, before he ultimately finished in his assistant at the sound of her euphoric shrieks. Silence filled the room as the two panted with pressure filled eardrums. Alexis flopped into the space next to Jake and looked over at his belly proudly rising and falling in the air, astonished she could be so lucky to have finally achieved her fantasy.

“Unbelievable,” she breathed. “Absolutely unreal. I was just intimate with Jake Andrews,” she squealed, nuzzling into him. She could feel his body shake with his laughing.

“That big of a deal?” he asked, looking down at her, genuinely.

“You do not get it Jake. You are absolutely the hottest guy in the office. I know you have your ever adorable reservations in confidence because of your little belly here,” she said, pinching his very not little belly.” He blushed hard. “But I think everyone knows, a little or a lot of weight could never take away from everything about you that is so hot.”

“You are a charmer,” he chuckled, putting his arm around her. She kissed his chest. They were silent for a few beats and Alexis sighed, wanting to drag the moment out, but knowing it couldn’t last forever.

“What next?” she asked. Jake shrugged his shoulders.

“I was kind of looking forward to walking back into the office.” Alexis looked at the smirk on his face and felt herself heating up all over again. She had thought they’d just leave from the parking lot, as it was getting close to the end of the work day. But they could go back in for the last hour. She pulled him to her lips by his chin and kissed him.

“You are bad,” she mouthed, getting up to clean herself up and prepare for their return to A&G.

Alexis walked into the lobby with as confident and unyielding expressions she could muster and successfully did not falter at Gina’s accusatory look. Jake seemed to have transformed back into his corporate big boss persona, if far more puffed up than usual, and did not seem fazed at all by her. “Mr. Andrews,” she said, thick with shock. “I thought you’d be back sooner. Hope all was well with the projects.” She put on a worried face.

“No need for concern Gina. Any messages?” She shook her head. “Excellent,” he uttered and proceeded. Alexis went to go with him, but Gina called to her back. Alexis watched Jake continue on and reluctantly stayed back looking a bit annoyed.

“What is going on Alexis?” Gina was boring a hole through Alexis, but she wasn’t going to find anything.

“Gina, what gives? I am literally just working. We have to do a write up on the surveying,” Alexis lied.

“But that’s just it. You don’t need to do that. He literally does everything. He practically made the company. You act like Jake Andrews cannot do a thing without you hanging onto him,” Gina accused, from behind her desk. Alexis’ jaw dropped. She didn’t want to go at it with her, but definitely didn’t want her to feel she had won. Alexis knew she already had, the thought of which sprung a small smile on her face.

“Listen Gina, if you think about Jake that much,” she said with a shrug, “go off. I know you used to have a big crush on him.” Alexis could see Gina ponder how she ‘knew’ and the color in her cheeks did not allude to her liking Jake talking about how shamelessly she had flirted with him in the past.

“Alexis. As if. Don’t be like that. I’m sorry for suggesting it. Any crush I had on him was small, and long gone with his diet.” Alexis was satisfied with that and shrugged at Gina.

“See you later.”

Alexis walked onto their floor and sat at her desk. She drummed on it, feeling a buzz of excitement from the afternoon. Her phone began ringing and felt her heart flutter. She picked up.

“Mr. Andrews office, Alexis speaking. How can I help you,” she said soothingly.

“Erm. Hello Alexis. Patch me over to the big boss,” Morgan Gibbs said on the other end. Alexis shuddered in horror and transferred him right away. She watched Jake talk on the phone through the window and he stood up when he hung up. He made his way out to her desk.

“Did she figure it out?” he queried.

“She knows, but I think she doubts it again. How could I like a big slob like you,” she sneered jokingly.

“I have testimonial evidence that you certainly do. It’s quite damning,” he teased back. He grinned. “Gibbs is coming up. He wants to check in on some spreadsheets. He asked if you were okay. Said you sounded a little breathless on the phone,” he said with an accusing look.

“I thought it was you!” she defended herself.

“Naturally. Can you pull them up on your computer? He likes your screen better.” Alexis was confident it was because her computer was 5 years older than all the others. But she pulled up the documents he needed. Soon Gibbs was stepping out of the elevator and instantly took notice of Jake’s inflated appearance. Jake didn’t have his jacket buttoned, and his belly hung proudly over his waistband. Alexis had the perfect view of it seated at her desk.

“Jake! Did you eat a house while you were out?” Morgan looked astonished, gesturing to Jake’s expansive belly. Jake blushed, but remained cool.

“I had my share,” Jake started, shooting Lexi a look. “Maybe and then some. I have been pretty bad lately.” Morgan looked at him wide eyed. He glanced at Alexis not wanting to embarrass his partner in front of her, but feeling compelled to say something.

“Jake you are going to find yourself gaining more than you bargained for if you don’t slow down. You are already putting on quite a bit of weight.” Jake scratched the back of his head, stretching his belly out in a way Alexis could not ignore.

“I appreciate your concern Gibbs, I will certainly consider your warning. Now about the spreadsheets,” Jake began. Gibbs looked at Alexis.

“Alexis! Tell Jake the truth.” He put his hands on his hips. “What do you think about all this? A gorgeous girl like you.” Alexis bit her lip. Jake looked at her amused and curious.

“Well,” she started. “I think you would be crazy to say Jake is not the most handsome man in the office,” she stated, glancing at Jake. “And I don’t know,” she said, with a flippant shrug. “He kind of looks cute with his belly.” She looked at Gibbs who looked back at her surprised. He stared a bit harder and then looked at Jake, squinting.

“You went surveying projects today?” he asked rhetorically, spinning back to Alexis. “With Alexis.” He nodded to himself and dropped the whole conversation. “Yes, explain to me how this spreadsheet works.”

Jake looked at Alexis with raised brows, when Gibbs finally departed to head out the office. “He knows.”

“Pfft. How could he know?” Alexis laughed, mirroring Jake earlier that day.

“Well he sent me the HR paperwork for disclosing an office relationship, HR not on the email either.”

“Shut up! Well yea. I guess he knows. Don’t feel like you have to sign those though. We aren’t in a relationship or anything.” He nodded along.

“I’m not so sure about that. I don’t know what to call it, but this for sure is a relationship of sorts. And we totally crossed the bridge from professional. It’s personal. It’s…” he stopped having lowered his voice gradually to the point he had no sound.

“Sexual,” Alexis muttered. He sighed at the memory. “I enjoyed your company so much,” she moaned.

“Lexi,” he pleaded. “I don’t want to get all worked up again.”

“If you do, does that guarantee a shot at round two?”

“If you’re really asking, let’s just jump to where I say yes.” They waited long enough for Gibbs to be long gone, as well as Gina. Alexis helped pass the time by teasing Jake, whose belly was far more settled, and he was begging her to jiggle his fat gut around. They slipped out of the office and Alexis followed him back to his house, stopping only to grab a quick bite from the drive thru to enjoy before bed. Jake managed to get stuffed again before he and Alexis were entangled once more, neither of them being able to stay awake much long after the pleasure of the evening took them completely.

Ch 10

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yamigooops · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,147 times in 2022

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I tagged 123 of my posts in 2022

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#i kinda wanna replace his fingers with mine on the carb and make him take a fat fucking rip on the bong

My Top Posts in 2022:

I have yet to put last year’s sticker on anything bc I’m too hesitant and feel like I’ll regret it, so you best BELIEVE these popsicles ain’t goin anywhere yet… it has to be perfect because they deserve nothing left 😌💕

Thank you so much for these @birfart I literally can’t wait to hang them in my new apartment when I get it (mind you I haven’t started looking but I just graduated so it’ll happen soon hopefully lol) The prints will be front and center on my anime wall 🥰🥹✨

15 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader Characters: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Reader Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon King Endeavor, Queen Reader, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, War, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor Redemption, Soft Todoroki Enji | Endeavor Summary:

When a chance to end the 100-year-long war sits itself right at your feet in the form of a 7-foot-tall dragon king, you can't help but accept. Little did you know where you'd end up...

Hi lovelies!! So I’m writing my first ever series (though I have another in the works hehe) and I wanted to share it with you all. I’ve decided to post it to Archive Of Our Own instead of Tumblr, but I may cross post it here in the future, depending on how well it does over there. I hope you’ll all consider reading it, because I have big plans for it. Chapter 1 isn’t any nsfw, but that’s coming very soon!

20 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

Y’all Shinsou really ain’t that nice of a guy in the show, and he’s so driven by the need to prove to both himself and others that he’s not a villain that sometimes I wonder if he really wants to be where he is, or if he just feels obligated to prove that everyone’s expectations that he’ll be a villain are wrong.

It makes me kinda hurt for him bc sometimes he seems unhappy with his journey to becoming a hero, but at the beginning I thought he was just as competitive a person as Bakugou, only super cold instead of explosive. But now, high and on my third rewatch of MHA, I feel like he just feels obligated to prove everyone wrong, whether or not that is what he really wants to do with his life.

Idk, I feel like he’s a really open-for-discussion character when talking about him canonically and I kinda love that about him. If y’all have thoughts about him and his character, lemme know bc I just love this boy so much and truly think he’s severely underrated

is this opening the possibilities for a shinsou hurt/comfort fic? maybe it is maybe it isn’t I guess you’ll have to wait and see huh?

24 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

Hey I know you beta’d for Gnarlypunkassbitch for Our Enigma. I noticed she’s deleted her ao3 account and her Twitter, do you know what happened or if she’s ok?

Omg yes! Ok so she DMed me before deleting and let me know that she’s had some ongoing issues with both her physical and mental health. I’ve known about them for a little while, as that is the reason she hasn’t updated the story since like February I think?

Essentially she had been feeling a tremendous amount of pressure over not having the time, energy, or inspiration to write and/or update the story. Despite readers’ support and reassurance for her to take her time and prioritize her wellbeing, as writers online we can often get caught up in the trap of thinking that just because we have a story that might be successful, which I would absolutely consider OE successful with tens of thousands of reads, we have to update on a constant schedule or our readers are going to get mad.

I know when she first started it she updated regularly, but from what I know it was supposed to end a while ago but she kept extending it bc readers wanted more. She eventually had to prioritize her well-being over the story, since she lost inspiration. And while this happened a few weeks ago, she still felt the pressure from AO3 and Twitter, so she decided that a full cleanse would be best for her.

However, we are still in contact, so she hasn’t completely vanished. I’ve emailed her in response to the DMs she sent me before leaving Twitter, and expressed my support for her to take care of herself first. She did say in the DMs that she may come back and repost the story in the future after she’s worked on herself, but that’s completely up to her. I do still have the beta read documents, and she still has the originals, so the story still exists, just not publicly right now. I was also talking with her about releasing a podfic of the story, though I hadn’t planned to even start recording it until October.

As of right now, she hasn’t responded. I emailed her on April 6th when she left, so it hasn’t been super long since then. But I expressed that she didn’t have to respond or anything if she needed a full cleanse from everything. Though I did express that I was sending her good vibes and thoughts, as well as my willingness to act as a channel for her to communicate with all the fans of OE in order to update you all on her state, as well as share your support and love for her.

I just feel so incredibly privileged to have been a part of this story, even if the work I did never got shared publicly. Because I got to become friends with a generous, kind-hearted, marvelously talented woman, while also sharpening my editing skills at the same time. Like I literally kept a cry count throughout this fuckin fic and the first read through I cried 15 times, and by the end of the beta it was up to 27. If a writer is able to make you cry even when you know what’s coming next? That’s true mastery in my opinion. So like wow. I just…. I’ll never shut up about this fic y’all. Never ever. I wish I could share the beta docs so y’all could still read it, but that would be a breach of her trust since she took it down publicly and hasn’t responded to my message yet. So I unfortunately won’t be doing that.

I’m also honored that people have come to me to ask after her. Like wowza. I’ve had numerous people do so, and I just can’t get over it. The love that has already been shown just in the past 6 days is astonishing. She impacted so many in such a profound way, and I am more than happy to act as a bridge to you all now. Though I will say that if you’d like to send her love and/or we’ll wishes that I won’t be contacting her again until she responds to me. Because we all need to respect her journey to healing, and if that means never hearing from her again, I hope you’re all willing to accept that and still wish her well.

So really all we can do now is sit together in our love for her and the story, send her positive energy in her road toward healing, and cross our fingers that she will one day bring this masterpiece back to life. But the decision is completely up to her, and I hope you’ll all support her just as much as I do. Keep an eye out for her possible return, maybe check like once every month or two. I will also make an announcement if she does return, so let’s do what we can right now to get her those good, healing vibes 🥰🥲

Below are my true feelings regarding the (hopefully temporary) loss of this absolutely incredible writer and friend:

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64 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

good luck charm

synopsis: when you decide to get a little cheeky and put on a cute cowboy’s hat you get a lot more than you bargained for

warnings: strangers to lovers, slight size kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Katsuki’s a playful bastard (if there are any I’m missing let me know lmao)

length: 9.7k

inspired by an ask submitted to @kingkatsuki by @thecowboykatsuki-anon and featuring art based on the same idea by @jozstanko-art we’re all just whipped by this fucker and want to put his hat on and have him fuck us silly

Rodeos weren’t particularly your thing, considering you had grown up in the suburbs your entire life. College had introduced you to people who had grown up with lifestyles contrary to your own, including your best friend Mina, who had grown up in a small rural town. Where she had grown up everyone knew each other, and things like farms and town fairs and rodeos were commonplace among the population.

So, when she invited you to one of said rodeos after your junior year had ended you were intrigued enough to oblige. She had told you about them for the past three years, and you were somewhat curious after all the hype she had placed on them. So about two weeks after the semester ended you found yourself in her hometown. It was a small town, with a main street that consisted of about three blocks of bars and independent shops that provided everything from boutiques to ice cream parlors.

As the day approached dusk on your summer vacation you found yourself at the main fairgrounds for the (apparently monthly) rodeo and trying not to entirely mentally check out. You genuinely had no idea what was going on, despite the fact that Mina had spent the hour and a half drive from your university apartment to her childhood home explaining everything that happened at a rodeo. All you could grasp was that there were three events and which ones her friends competed in. One competed in two, while another competed in the other.

The third friend competed in all three events and was recognized area-wide as exemplary in all of them, and by the way Mina described this man he was incredibly attractive. So, you spent your free time on the drive imagining how this man looked. You only knew he had blonde, spiky hair, red eyes, and a near permanent scowl. However, considering he participated in all three of these events you had to assume he was in peak physical condition. Something about Mina’s description of him made your stomach flutter.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the arena you realized just how popular this event was. It seemed as though every person in town was here, and the parking had spilled over from the actual lot onto the field surrounding it. Once you had parked in the closest possible spot, you and Mina made your way over to the competitors’ area.

Since she knew so many of the participants the two of you were permitted past the gate reading “Competitors and staff only.” She led you through a light crowd of men and women, many of whom were decked out in full cowboy regalia. There was also the occasional horse, bull, or steer being led to their pens to await their turn on the arena floor.

Coming to a pair of young men, Mina bounced on the balls of her feet and tapped a red-haired man on the shoulder. He turned around questioningly before lighting up at the sight of your best friend.

“Well look who finally made it,” boomed the man. He towered over you, absolutely built but attractive in a big puppy kind of way. His smile was infectious, and as he pulled Mina into a bear hug, you found yourself smiling as well.

“Eiji, I missed you so much!” Mina practically jumped onto her friend, her arms clinging around his neck. So, this must have been Kirishima. Now that you heard his name you could recall several stories Mina had shared with you about the red-haired giant. She had also shared with you, in confidence of course, that she’d had the biggest crush on him since middle school, but never worked up the courage to ask him out.

“Missed you too,” he murmured, his face buried in her neck. If you didn’t know any better, it would have looked like the two were already dating. The thought had you chuckling, as it was quite obvious that Kirishima felt the same way about Mina. You supposed it was probably easier to see as an outsider.

“God, get a room, will ya?” came a gruff voice from behind the pair. You shifted your attention from the closeted lovers before you to the man standing just behind them. Sure enough, based on Mina’s description of him, you assumed it was Bakugou Katsuki. Only he was so much more attractive than you had expected. His garnet eyes were piercing as they moved from Kirishima and Mina over to rest on you, and you found yourself blushing and looking away under his intense gaze. “And who are you?”

“Oh, guys this is my best friend and roommate Y/N,” Mina supplied, releasing Kirishima from the chokehold she had him in and moving back to your side to prompt you forward. “She finally agreed to come see you guys compete!”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Thank you so much, and it’s nice to meet ya,” grinned Kirishima as he held out his hand to shake yours. He was the picture of gentlemanly perfection, and you found yourself instantly drawn toward him.

“Absolutely, I figured I should come see what all the hype is after this one talked it up so much for three years,” you chuckled and gestured toward your pink-haired friend. “She talks about you guys all the time.”

“Better be good things,” grumbled Bakugou, crossing his arms over his chest. The action had his black, green and red plaid shirt pulling tight over his biceps and chest, drawing your attention to the rest of his physique. His thighs were massive, though you supposed that was from years of training to ride bucking animals. His leather chaps had imagery of explosions down the sides, and flared out at the ends along with his dark jeans to accommodate his leather cowboy boots. Atop his head sat a well-loved black cowboy hat, beneath which his spikes of ash blonde hair peeked.

“Oh, only the best. I hear that you guys are some of the best riders around,” you nodded. His slight scowl didn’t budge, and in that moment, you decided you’d make it your goal to get him to smile by the end of the night.

“Aww, thank you Mina,” Kirishima crooned, throwing his arm around the smaller girl.

“Of course, I’d say good things, ya doofus. You guys are my best friends.” Mina’s cheeks were darkening from the proximity to the “love of her life,” as she had put it so many times.

You chuckled, watching as the childhood friends caught up with one another. There were two more that joined, named Sero and Denki, and as the conversation continued and the crowd shifted, you found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Bakugou after a while. You chimed in every once in a while, but mainly let Mina catch up with her friends. Bakugou seemed to have a similar approach to the conversation, watching as Mina and Kirishima cluelessly flirted and teased one another.

“Are they always this oblivious?” You kept your words quiet as you directed them toward the blonde beside you.

“Those two have been doing this shit for years,” he sighed. “We keep tryin’ to get em together, tell them that they’re into each other, but they’re about as dense as two blocks of concrete.”

You snorted, “Must be exhausting having to watch that for so many years.”

“You ain’t got a clue.” He let out a puff of air through his nose, and when you peeked up at him through your lashes, you realized it was a chuckle. There was a shadow of a smile on his lips, and you felt your chest glow with pride at having gotten even that out of the stoic man.

“You should smile more,” you said teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his, though it was admittedly more against his bicep than anything.

“That a command, little missy?” He turned those burning eyes on you once again, and you felt something tighten deep within you. Feeling a surge of confidence roll through you as you captured his attention, you reached up and plucked his hat off his head before plopping it down on your own. It was warm and smelled like his shampoo, something deep and spicy. His lips slowly slid into a sly grin as you tilted your head back slightly more than before to be able to see him under the brim of it.

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2,759 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

8 notes · View notes

nerdyenby · 1 year ago

Text

Green time :D I’m watching Ranboo

So excited for Ranboo and H team y’all have no idea

“They put her in goddamn trans world, it was amazing!! So I… am, of course,… dressing up as Spider-Gwen… because I am straight” MY STREAMER IS CISHET :D

I too made across the spiderverse my entire personality after seeing it, so real

Guqqie painted their nails <333

“I can climb up walls and be transgender, but I can’t- I cannot pull up a suit” this is how they officially come out, I’m dying

Ran thinking the music was an auditory hallucination ��

“Anxiety. I have it.” is all I heard lmao

“I’m spider!!” “like spiderman?” “No >:|” the freaking gender on display lmao

I’m sick too!!! We’re all so cool

I was about to get on to Ranboo for talking bad about bm but H beat me to it lol

Buildmart

I can’t tell if this team has talked a good amount or if this is their first time in call together lmao (probably the latter tbh)

I’m so down for these vibes, just calm confusion, absolutely elite <333

“Don’t be afraid to ask things” H is such a good teammate I love him so much

5th!!! They popped off!!!!!

“Hopefully the rest are no brain” Lily 😂

The greenest geckos!!! I love her!!

Ranboo just freaking choking when Sykkuno complimented genloss

Ranboo standing there clueless what to do or say when H is muted

Bingo

“Wait… I lied” “HOW DARE YOU?!??” This is exactly what I needed from this duo, thank you <3

Ran just running around breaking people’s crafting tables and cackling

“How are we all feeling?” “aaaaaaaaaaaaaa” “I’m stressed” I love this team

“No more thinky games”

TGTTOSAWAF

“This one’s an absolute poop fiesta” Sykkuno 😭😭😭

H giving Lily a piggyback ride my beloved <333

Ran accidentally turning on their narrator in the fall guys map 😂

Everyone laughing at Lily stepping on the pressure plate and getting launched

“Ranboo, I don’t mean to flex but I’m two points better than you, no big deal” “It’s fine, I’m not bad about it, I’m not mad about it” “it seems like you’re kinda mad about it” them!!!

H being so proud of his hermits <33

Parkour Tag

“Wait a minute, this looks um….” “… yeah Sykkuno, what does it look?” “Use your words” YOU CAN SAY GAY THIS ISNT FLORIDA

H getting in on the homophobia bit only for Ran to turn it on him and just “uh… uh…. uh…. I think I can hunt the first round” 😂

Ranboo is having so much fun being the token queer on this team

RAN CRUSHED IT HELLO?????

Sykkuno mvp!!!

They’re killing it!!!!

H hyping everyone up <333

If Sykkuno surviving three four five consecutive rounds doesn’t make the top ten plays I’m gonna lose it

SYKKUNO IS INSANE WHAT THE HECK?!??

“Love ya babes x” Glowduo my beloved <3333

H and Ran intersecting and exchanging “How do”s :))

GREEN POPPED OFF!!!!

“Lily, how are you liking your first event?” “I’m buying a green geckos t-shirt right now!!”

“I’ve won too much, unfortunately” “I am going to name… a haybale after you… and burn it” this is exactly the energy I wanted from H and Ran :))

Ranboo and H gonna be the cause of a new stat breakdown, see y’all in two hours

Ace Race

The vod is muted I’m crying

They did well!! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!!!

Transboo my beloved <333

Sands of Time

SANDKEEPER H RAAAAAAHHHHH

H, how’s the timer?? How’s the timer, H???

This is so painful

OH MY GOODNESS LMAO

Meltdown

Lily and Sykkuno just being absolutely silent while H and Ranboo bicker in the tone you would discipline a pet with 😂

Round two started and they all jolted awake lmao

WHAT JUST HAPPENED /pos

Ran went rabid, good for them!!!!

RAN OPENING THEIR INVENTORY MIDCOMBAT THEN GETTING A QUAD KILL?!????

They’re popping off!!!!

4TH!!!!!

Battle box

Lily carry!!

That aqua rush was terrifying but the countered it perfectly!!!

Ran’s keyboard is so loud 😭😭😭

Guys it’s fine, attempts were made and fun was had

Can’t believe antfrost got tickled to death, fat rip

NOT LAST!!!!!

Lily and Sykkuno holding hands on the individual leaderboard my beloved (don’t look at where they are, all that matters is that they’re together <3)

Dodgebolt

Sykkuno saying the event is rigged in Scott’s favor and him immediately falling off the map 😂

“Surely, surely” “… Temple” me too HBomb

WHY ARE ME AND H ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH?!?? He’s very adhd today (I don’t know if he actually has adhd)

Them all frantically switching to purple merch lmao

DO IT FOR THE GECKOS!!!!

I CANT BELIEVE GREEN WON!!!!!

H bullying Ranboo for not being able to win a 20v20 😂😂😂

Not one, not two, but three dodgebolts

“We should refer to each other by our numbers” this is like the twitch leaks all over again lmao

“Wow, that was a really good way to not get either of them” the SLANDER lmao

This devolved into an auction so fast, I’m losing my mind /pos

#mc championship #mcc p23 #ranboo #hbomb94 #sykunno #lilypichu #nerdy’s mcc reactions #cw caps

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simizzy-writes · 2 years ago

Note

If it's okay (please feel free to delet this ask if it makes you uncomfortable!!) can I request Zhao with a fem s/o that is insecure about her physical appearance? More specifically her small chest? (btw I LOVED your others Zhao fics! you're the BEST!!)

💕💕thank you for reading my work, and for making a request! you're an angel💕💕

Pairing: Zhao Tianyou x Fem!Reader Warnings: insecurities. body image insecurities. mentions of past bullying. mentions of plastic surgery. A/N: for those of you who may have any body image issues, myself included, i promise you that the people in your life who are safe and loving towards you don't measure your worth by inches, pounds, clothing sizes, etc. they love you for who you are, and they see how beautiful you are no matter what 💕 plot bunny hit me hard for this one. i had to write it like RIGHT NOW -

Most days were fine.

You carried yourself well, dressed beautifully and uniquely in ways that suited your personal taste. You weren’t a stranger to pampering, having accompanied Saeko and Eri to salons many, many times. The girls would often tease you about how many men would look your way, but you played it off as though the men were trying to look around you to see Saeko or Eri. They would tease you about being humble, but you would only smile. Even Zhao - your man, the love of your life - would openly praise you and show you off to anyone who would listen. It was more than your physical beauty that he praised, however. He’d talk about how lucky he was to have someone so sweet, kind and angelic around. Sometimes you wondered if he was really talking about you, only because you were amazed that someone like Zhao could adore you so deeply and so completely.

Perhaps to those on the outside looking in, you didn’t have any reason to feel insecure. And most days you didn’t feel that way. Really, you didn’t.

But just when you were at a high point - a moment of comfort and joy - those creeping insecurities would loom over your shoulder. They’d mock you, jeer at you and salivate at the sight of your tears. Like a thief in the night, anxiety came to rob you of your joy.

Dark memories of cruel classmates would flood your mind. Words like knives, all directed at cutting you down.

“Her eyes are as dull as piss!”

“Look at her hair! How ugly!”

“No one would ever want you. Not with flat tits like those!”

You’d stare at your reflection, seeing only mistakes. Were you too fat? Too skinny? Was there a way to get rid of these stretch marks? Are they even noticeable? Hide them, hide them, hide them!

Was your ass too big? Too small? What about your hips? Did they curve too little or too much? Did it matter? Go read those surveys in those trashy magazines and find out.

What about your breasts? They were too small, weren’t they? Nobody liked small breasts. Everyone wanted giant breasts, right? Big tits, small waist, wide hips and a big ass. That was today’s standard.

But even in a place like Japan, where it was more desirable to be petite, you didn’t quite seem to fit in. More flashbacks to those terrible teenage years coupled with cruel comments of past boyfriends and flings hissed along the edges of your mind.

“You’d be prettier with larger breasts. Have you considered getting some work done?”

“There will always be something ugly about you, [Name].”

“I guess small tits aren’t so bad, but wouldn't you rather have bigger ones? It would improve your look.”

In theory, what people have said to you - those cruel, ugly words - shouldn’t matter. They didn’t deserve you or anyone else if they believed that being so terrible was okay. It wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t okay how deeply they carved those evil words into you.

Because that’s what you were left with now. You no longer saw your face, your hair, or your body, but painful words that scarred your flesh, visible only to you.

—

Zhao let himself into your apartment, gold key catching the light in the hallway. Closing the door behind him, he called out to you.

“I’m here, babe! Are you ready for dinner?”

No reply.

Taking off his shoes, he called out to you again, but there still wasn’t a reply. He walked through your living room, past the kitchen and towards your bedroom.

Your bed was covered in clothes. Dresses, pants, blouses…All were strewn about until it looked like there wasn’t even a mattress underneath it all. It wasn’t an unusual sight for him to see, although it had been quite some time since he’d seen it like this. His heart sank a little, and a frown pulled at his lips. He thought that you were doing better, but it seemed like Zhao was wrong. He could only imagine your frustration and anxiety as you cycled through every garment you owned. He’d seen it once before, albeit briefly. He’d heard the comments you made about yourself. How if only you were this or that way your clothes would look good on you. Closing his eyes, Zhao tried to figure out what he could do to help tonight, because going out was definitely not going to do so.

He heard your bathroom door open, and you emerged with a strained smile on your lips. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips quivering ever so slightly.You were wearing one of his shirts and some of your most comfortable sweatpants. You were always so beautiful to him, but Zhao could only tell you that so much, no matter how deeply he wished that you believed it. Feeling beautiful was a personal journey, and all that he could do was encourage you.

“Hey,” you said weakly. “I’m not ready yet…I’m sorry.”

Zhao smiled, and leaned back against the doorframe. He held his arms open for you, and you melted into him without another word. You whimpered and your shoulders shook, and his heart was breaking for you.

“It’s alright, baby girl,” he said. Zhao’s fingers pressed you closer to him, and he held you so sweetly that you could cry. So you did.

Zhao rocked you, chin resting on top of your head. His dark eyes were fixed ahead of him, a myriad of emotions swimming within. His heart ached for you, because you were so beautiful - inside and out - and there was nothing that he could do to remove this pain from you. He felt rage against the people who would hurt you so deeply. Did they not know that emotional and mental abuse was harder to unravel than a punch to the gut? If time travel ever became a functional concept, Zhao would travel back in time to beat the shit out of every bully and asshole that dared make you cry. You were so worthy of joy, love and compassion that it was wholly unfair that their cruelty clouded your perception so thoroughly.

Granted, sometimes you saw the value in yourself. In fact, most of the time you did. But nobody was a picture-perfect image of bullet proof self-confidence. Zhao had seen the cracks that would chip away at you. From Saeko and Eri’s concerns over calories, to how quickly you would deny compliments, and how quickly you would stress yourself over finding the “perfect” outfit…He could only imagine the things that were going through your mind. How you would worry and fret over what someone would say and do, and wonder if it was a passive aggressive attempt to put you down. No matter what, it seemed like you were always bracing yourself for a cruel comment and down-played the positive ones you would receive.

He could weep. Zhao loved you so deeply and only wanted you to be happy above all else.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. He placed a kiss on your hair, and held you a little tighter.

“I just hate the way I look sometimes,” you cried. “I mean, sometimes I feel really good about myself, but then it goes away. I just want to be pretty for you - “

“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupted. Zhao placed his hands on your arms and held you away from his chest. “Stop. Please stop worrying about how you look to me. It’s not about me. I love you, and I want the best for you. I can’t make you see how beautiful you are, but I can help you in every single way that you will let me.”

Your tears felt hot against your cheeks, and you wiped them away with trembling fingers. Zhao’s words made your heart ache with love and adoration. He was such a wonderful man, truly. God, how you loved him. “I love you, too.”

He placed a kiss to your forehead, followed by one on each cheek, and finally a soft and tender kiss to your lips. “Let’s stay in tonight, okay? Why don’t you go get comfortable on the couch while I hang up your clothes.”

“No, I’ll put them away. You don’t have to - “

He cut you off gently. “Baby, I want to. Now go get comfortable. And don’t forget to wrap yourself up in that favorite blanket of yours. Make yourself into the sexiest [Name]-burrito for me, okay?”

You smiled and nodded, sparing a moment to nuzzle against his neck affectionately. “I really do love you, Zhao. So much.”

—

Zhao cooked for two, deciding on his famous chili shrimp and rice for dinner. You watched him thoughtfully from your place on the couch. His skill in the kitchen was wonderful to watch, and you wondered if he had any idea how much you adored him. He was everything that you could have ever hoped for.

“Food’s up!” he cheered as he handed you a plate of chili shrimp. The smell of ginger and sweet spices made your mouth water, and you eagerly accepted his offer. He settled down beside you on the couch, kissing your temple before diving in.

Conversation between the two of you was easy and light as you ate. You asked him about his Liumang shenanigans and he promised you that he had been a good boy lately and that things were quiet around the city. For the most part.

You smiled at him and continued eating. He finished before you, and set aside his food onto your coffee table. Relaxing back against your couch, Zhao sighed in contentment. But then -

“Do you like my breasts?”

Zhao let out a laugh. “I love your breasts. They’re soft and perfect. I love the way they bounce when I fuck you, and when I have them in my mouth?” He lifted his fingers to his lips in a chef’s kiss. “Perfection.”

You smiled, but your heart wasn’t entirely in it. You poked at a shrimp on your plate.

“You don’t think that they’re too small?” you asked quietly.

Zhao leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Is that what was bothering you tonight? Your breasts?”

You shrugged, the motion lame and half-hearted. “Kind of. I’ve always thought that they were small. Everyone made fun of me for it in highschool.”

He turned one of his rings around on his hand. Turning, turning, turning, he waited for you to continue.

“Maybe I should get breast implants?” You phrased it like a question, but it wasn’t necessarily meant for Zhao to answer. “Maybe it will help boost my confidence.”

Zhao thought for a moment, jaw tight as he pondered his next words carefully. Eventually, he spoke.

“[Name],” he began, “If you truly believe that getting breast implants, or any kind of cosmetic surgery will help you be more comfortable in your skin, I’ll support you. But I need to know if this is something you would actually consider doing for yourself. Do you really believe that a surgery like that will erase your anxiety and insecurities?”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you set your plate of food aside. You shook your head, lips quivering and your tears salted your lips. “N-No. I mean, I don’t know. I just want to be okay in my own skin. I don’t know what to do.”

You rubbed at your eyes, and Zhao pulled you into a hug. His fingers smoothed over your hair, and he was mindful of his rings. You cried, tears watering the front of his shirt.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered to you. “What makes you beautiful to me isn’t that you don’t have scars or stretch marks, or that you have perfect skin and hair. It’s not because you have the perfect body the world says you should have.”

He tilted your head up to look at him. His thumbs wiped away the tears on your cheeks, and he kissed your nose.

“You’re beautiful because you are sweet and kind. You are so smart and can see past everyone’s bullshit. You’re beautiful because you know how fucked up the world is, but you still do everything that you can to help others and help them smile. Do you understand how amazing that is? You light up every room that you walk into, [Name]. You glow. Just having you here makes the world is a better place. You make me feel like I’m a good man. You make me feel like I’m loved and that you understand me.”

Zhao leaned his forehead against yours, and his hands found your own. He held them close, feeling their warmth and softness.

“When I’m with you,” he continued, “I feel like nothing else matters. When you tell me that you love me, I feel like falling to my knees in worship because I am the last person on earth who should have an angel like you.”

The kiss he gave you was soft, languid and tender. It was as if he was afraid to break you.

“Don’t even get me started on the physical aspects that make you beautiful,” Zhao teased as he broke the kiss. “I’d rather show you, to be honest.’

You hummed, the exquisite love you felt for him in this moment overflowing. He was milk and honey, silk and gold. Zhao was the most divine man you had ever met, and you wondered if you could ever bless him the way he just did to you.

“We have all night,” you said. “Let me show you what you mean to me, too.”

Zhao smiled, his lips coy and charming. “Mm, I know that you would take good care of me baby, but tonight is all about you. Let me show you why they call it ‘love making’, yeah? Let me make love to my goddess tonight.”

#zhao x reader #tianyou zhao x reader #tianyou zhao #yakuza 7 #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 imagine #ryu ga gotoku #rgg #zhao tianyou x reader #zhao tianyou

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tothemeadow · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a uzui x shy reader where reader is his fourth wife but she feels left out a lot so she distance and avoid Tengen and her co-wives. When reader comes home one day she surprised to find uzui home by himself because he was meant to be out with the others and she was going to try avoid him again but as he wants an answer to why shes acting the way she is and turns into a smut in the end? :>

Did I get carried away with this? Maybe. Could I have written more? Absolutely. But I have to practice self-control.

‘i want to be part of your constellation’ / Uzui T. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, cunnilingus, Tengen’s fat tiddies

words: 2,492

Sometimes, being a Pillar’s wife is hard. They’re constantly away, fighting battles and saving lives; there’s always that lingering chance that they may never come back. It’s a dangerous life, but a respectful one nonetheless.

This is what drew you to Tengen in the first place – despite his brash, asshole attitude, he’s selfless. It was during an attack at your parents’ farm when you first met him; appearing like a night in shining armor, he rescued you from a bloodhungry demon, his movements powerful yet graceful all at once. As a thank you, your parents offered your hand in marriage to the handsome stranger. Surprisingly, Tengen agreed, but it wasn’t like you were going to deny marrying someone of his status and exquisite looks.

However, you didn’t know about the other women in Tengen’s life. As you quickly found out, he had three other wives, all of who he met while in the shinobi forces. Of course, you weren’t a fighter like them, nor did you have that close relationship from sharing the same background. No, you were the docile one of the group, the one meant to take care of the home while the others went to fight demons and the like.

Even two years later, things haven’t changed. You love Tengen, and the other girls are basically your best friends, but the chasm separating you from them couldn’t be more evident. Sure, you’re part of the “family,” but it doesn’t necessarily feel like it. You’re the quiet one, the one that keeps to themselves, the one who’s in charge of a happy homelife. And so you distance yourself from everyone else, stick to the sidelines while they’re out saving the world.

Granted, you’re used to this lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. If only you’d been a shinobi or a slayer, things would be different. You’d know what the life is like, the feel of a blade as it passes through a demon’s neck. But no, you’re always stuck with carrying a pouch of wisteria on your body to keep yourself safe. At this point, you don’t whether Tengen makes you keep it because he wants you to be safe or because he views it as his obligation.

With a sigh, you turn towards the sky, the endless blue a clear difference to your bitter gray mood. The tote hanging from your shoulder is heavy with fruits and vegetables from the market, but you’re excited with the possibilities of all the tasty meals you could create. Even though you can’t fight to save others, you can feed them; you also know for a fact that you’re the best cook among you co-wives.

When you return home, you slip off your setta and pause, listening to the familiar silence. Like usual, the others are away, most likely fighting off some lowly criminal or preparing for a battle against a demon. Either way, it seems like you’re going to be spending the majority of the day by yourself. It’s sad that this is what life has come to; when you first married Tengen, you were hoping for more excitement, not lonely thoughts. You don’t want to come off desperate, though, so you continue to remain to yourself. At the end of the day, it’s not that big of a deal – that’s just life.

Wandering towards the kitchen, you become caught up in these thoughts, these negative feelings. You don’t want to make yourself cry – you really don’t – but your heart is saying otherwise. All you want is to belong. You want to mean something to this family, not be the impromptu mother waiting for her rambunctious children to come home. You become so lost in your head that you fail to see him standing in the kitchen, lips wrapped around a ceramic cup.

Coming to sudden stop at the threshold, your attention jumps back to the present. Tengen merely sends you an amused look over the rim of his cup before he knocks his head back and empties its contents. Why is he here? Shouldn’t he be with the others? He said he wasn’t going to home for a while! Did something happen? Are the others okay? Why-?

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Tengen teases. “Stop thinking so much.”

Huffing, you step into the kitchen, drawing the tote off your shoulder and setting it down. “You surprised me, that’s all. I thought you were busy.”

“What, am I not allowed in my own home? That’s kind of cruel, don’t you think?” The smirk he flashes you sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“I never said that,” you hastily respond. Your eyes scan over his Corps uniform. You’re quickly finding yourself feel bad for taking up his time when he’s bound to be busy; Pillars have the toughest jobs of them all, and every single moment is precious. “You’re usually never this home early,” you mutter. A sigh slips through your lips. “…I should… uh, I need to do laundry.” You despise how pathetic you sound, but the knowing look in Tengen’s eyes is making your nerves go haywire.

Stepping away, you prepare yourself to leave, but Tengen moves way too fast for your eye to catch. Before you’re out the door, his hand is around your wrist, spinning your around and tugging him towards his chest. You yelp as you collide with solid muscle; wrapping his meaty arms around you, Tengen holds you close, his nose buried in your hair.

“Don’t act like I haven’t noticed you moping around more than usual,” he mutters. Pressed to him like this, you can hear his heart thumping steadily in his chest. “It’s not flamboyant of me to ignore what’s bothering you.”

“Tengen-“

“Let me finish,” he interrupts, but his voice is soft. “I want you to be honest with me. Are you lonely?”

At that, your heart drops to your stomach. You haven’t been that obvious, have you? Jaw falling agape, you’re desperate for words, to tell him no, you’re fine, but nothing wants to come out. Tengen releases a sorrowful sigh and pulls away just enough so that you two are looking eye-to-eye. He’s always been huge, standing tall and broad; in moments like these, the sheer size of him is more than intimidating. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon.

“Idiot,” he mumbles. Your face scrunches up when he flicks your forehead. “I shouldn’t have to confront you about something like this.”

You pout up at him. “It’s just… I’m not like you guys,” you confess. “I can’t fight, I can’t defend myself… All I’m good at is being a homemaker.” You drop your gaze to his chest. Now that you’re finally getting everything off your chest, all the pent of thoughts and feelings begin to gush out. “I feel like an outsider most of the time. You and the other girls are always running around together and doing amazing things. All I do is sit around and do chores. I can’t…” Biting your lip, you squeeze your eyes shut. Now is not the time to be crying. If you want things to change, you have to remain strong, not burst into tears.

A hand cups your face, then, lifting your head so that you’re forced to look at Tengen. “Be quiet. So what if you’re not a fighter? That doesn’t make you any less flamboyant.” His thumb brushes over your cheek. “You’re the one I can rely on to be here when I need someone. You always get this dumb smile on your face whenever I come home from a mission.” Dropping his head down, he presses his forehead to yours. “I know you’re safe here… Do you have any idea how scared I would be if you were out in the field with us? You’re important to me, baby. When I’m not here, you’re on my mind constantly.”

Your heartbeat quickens. You can’t deny the genuine glint in his dazzling eyes, the slight curl to his lips.

“In fact,” Tengen continues, pulling away entirely. In a swift movement, his large hands are clutching your thighs, raising you up and swinging you around; you let out a surprised squeak as he places you on the table and presses his large body between your legs. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve always been so soft, so sweet…” His warm breath fans over your face, making you swallow thickly. “And you’re so small. I’ve got to keep someone like you under protection, don’t you think?”

Before you really have the chance to say anything, Tengen swoops in, his mouth seeking out yours. He’s always been such a bold kisser, sweeping his tongue into your mouth with no hesitation whatsoever. He tastes like wine, so rich and delectable, and his tongue is so warm, so inviting. Your head is spinning, your breaths leaving in short gasps. His hands are all over you; gripping your hair, trailing down your back, sneaking underneath your yukata-

A groan bursts from your throat as he fondles your breasts, the pads of his fingers rolling the hardened nipples and pulling them. Tengen curses as he breaks the kiss, the lightest of blushes on his face. He bites his plump lower lip as he shamelessly plays with you, his pupils blown wide. His hips press in close, his groin bumping into yours; he’s already hard, deliciously so, and your mind goes entirely blank. You want nothing more than his cock to slide in, to absolutely tear you apart.

“You feel that, baby?” Tengen husks. “Don’t think your unimportant to me. You’re so fucking sexy, so flamboyant…” His tongue darts out, sweeps over his lips. “Let me make it up to you. You won’t feel lonely anymore, got it?”

Furiously nodding your head, you allow Tengen to yank open your yukata, revealing soft skin. Your eyelids flutter as he places his mouth to the exposed flesh, his lips and tongue equally hot. Chest rising frantically beneath his touch, you grip onto him for support as he kisses your breasts, his tongue dragging across your nipples. You keen as he promptly sucks it into his mouth, his teeth sinking down lightly as his hands unceremoniously rip your underwear from your trembling form.

“Oh, gods, Tengen,” you purr. “Please… Don’t stop…”

“Wouldn’t dream about it,” Tengen drawls. Sinking to his knees, his mouth leaves a wet trail down your body; there’s bound to be marks, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. His mouth feels way too heavenly yet sinful, the pleasured grunts pouring from his lips pure music to your ears. “Give me a taste…”

You cry out when he licks against your slit. In a fit of desperation, your fingers clutch onto the silvery strands of his hair, accidentally loosening it from its ponytail. Tengen groans into your quivering pussy as you yank at his hair, his name leaving your lips in high-pitched whimpers. Any other time, Tengen would play the part of the ultimate tease, but not now. No, he wants to please you, to have you screaming his name and begging for more.

He eats like a man starved, his mouth just ravishing your cunt; the noises coming from in between your legs is nothing short of sinful, leaves your blood boiling. Your velvety walls clench around his protruding tongue, each curl and flick sending delicious shivers up your spine, down to the tips of your fingers and toes. Tengen’s always been a god with his mouth, and it’s no wonder how he has four wives. You try not to think about the other girls too much; it’s quickly turning into a battle that you’re hopelessly losing, but then Tengen moves to suckle on your clit while his fingers replace his tongue.

A sharp cry rips its way out of your chest. It feels so good. “Ah – Tengen – fuck,” you whine. Hearing the pleasured noises from your beautiful lips spurs him on; redoubling his efforts, Tengen grabs onto your hip as his fingers push in even further, finding your soft spot with pin-point precision. You rapidly come undone around his fingers, your walls clenching around him as your slick gushes out. A breathless moan of his name echoes throughout the room.

“Just as sweet as I remember,” Tengen husks. The deep rasp of his voice has you clenching again; with a chuckle, Tengen removes his hand and stands up.

“I want you,” you coo, “please, Tengen. Fuck me.” Reaching out, you hastily undo the top of his uniform, push the articles of clothing down his shoulders under his torso is completely bare. Tengen’s chest practically rumbles with a purr as you drift your hands over the swell of his pecs, the divots of his abs. “So gorgeous,” you murmur. Tengen starts to chuckle again, but it quickly dwindles into pleasured grunts as you squeeze his pectorals and pinch at his pert nipples.

“Shit,” Tengen hisses. His hips buck forward, the hard outline of his cock brushing against your sopping cunt. In quick, fumbling movements, he undoes his belt and drops his hakama low enough so that his cock pops out. You practically drool at the sight; he’s been going around commando all day, and fuck you wish you knew that earlier.

His bulbous head pushes inside, his cock slowly filling you up. The stretch is delicious; you feel so fucking full, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. Clutching onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into the thick cording of muscle, your eyes basically rolling back in your head as Tengen snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding in to the hilt. He pauses for a second, allows you to adjust to his massive size. Once you give him the go ahead, all caution is thrown to the wind.

Your husband in no longer a man, but rather a savage beast. He fucks into you thoroughly, his cock dragging against all your sensitive spots as his cockhead pounds into your cervix. He’s hitting you so deep, stretching you so wide, you’re seeing stars. His lips find your neck while his hands hold you by the ass, keeping you place. You have no choice but to cry out his name, moaning until your throat goes hoarse.

Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he urges you to lie flat on your back. Like this, he presses his palms against the surface of the table and completely concentrates and fucking you into oblivion. It’s working, rightfully so, for your drooling and babbling his name, your nails scratching down his back and leaving angry red trails.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he purrs. “Show you that you’re really mine. I love you, got it? Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Tears flood your vision – whether they’re from pleasure or the new onslaught of emotion, you don’t know. Either way, you cling onto him tighter. You’re not going anywhere, and Tengen makes sure of it.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x reader #kny tengen #request

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

Text

November Baby - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Wakatoshi offers you a little more than just chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day. (~2.7k words)

Warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy talk, cisfem!reader, nsfw

A/N: Breeding kink and big one-track minded boy just go hand in hand. This is for @prettysetterbaby’s Valentine’s Day collab!

---

Wakatoshi never told you directly that he wanted children, but he signaled so in every possible way.

It was initially subtle - of course, he’d always loved your hips, but his eyes and hands started to rest on them more often, and soon your belly became his favorite place to plant soft kisses, and his fingers started to favor the dip in your waist and the smoothness of your hips.

In the evenings when you washed up for the night, his eyes seemed to hone in on your facial features more than usual, and while he stood beside you at the bathroom sink to get ready of his own accord as you brushed your teeth and swiped toner on your face and neck, you could see him perform a sort of math in his head, adding and subtracting from the elements that comprised the two of you.

You took note of all these behaviors, but you declined to pick his brain because your Toshi was always direct, and you knew that if he was quiet now, it was only because he was still coming up with the proper words to express what he was feeling.

But he let you know all right, in the middle of a crowded department store in the heart of Warsaw that looked like it had been ransacked by Cupid’s battalion many times over.

“Is Poland just really into Valentines’ Day or is it this store?” You joked, as you followed your husband leisurely pushing a shopping cart you’d overloaded with essentially useless trinkets and decorative items. You’d moved into your new home just a couple of weeks ago, and still were engrossed with the task of filling the empty spaces between comfy furniture and elegant fixtures.

You were now trekking through the realm of cribs and diapers and couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the frankly quite excessive marketing. Red and pink hearts were everywhere, as were flowers, huge balloons, chubby angels and red crossbows, you name it.

“Oh my God, even the baby section is Valentine’s Day themed??? No wonder everyone I know is born in November!”

You were busy laughing at your own joke, but instead, he looked at you with the slightest bit of caution in his hazel eyes, leaning over the cart as it rolled to a stop and gripping the handles carefully.

“Let’s have a November baby, too,” he said, abruptly enough to stun you for a split second.

Your eyes grew slightly wide, your face growing hot at his clear and concise statement, and you quickly looked around to see if anyone else had picked up his distinct baritone. You knew in your heart of hearts he was completely serious, and flustered, you bumped him slightly on the hip.

“Why would you say it right now?” You hissed.

“Does it matter where I say it?” He asked, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. You pouted, fingers tightening on the handles of the shopping cart as well. His eyes were still on you, again, gauging your reaction, worried if he was too forward and if he had somehow made you upset with his suggestion.

“Only if you want to of course, my love,” he reassured again, his hand now covering yours. His smile was understanding, even if there was a hint of lingering hope.

The warmth was fading from your face, your heartbeat that had sped up due to embarrassment now settling with the stroke of his thumb over the back of your hand.

It didn’t take you long to think because the thought had already crossed your mind. Being heavy with his child, then eventually coming to this very store with a small little one that looked like the two of you…

It was a delightful thought, actually.

“Wine and dine me first,” you teased, kissing him quickly on the nose, “and then we can consider having a Valentine’s Day baby.”

He grinned, the slightest bit of mischief in his glance.

“I’ll have you pregnant by the end of the night.”

---

Dumping your pill pack into the trash was a surprisingly simple ordeal and you were very thankful it was mainly used for birth control over anything else. But out of an abundance of caution, you’d decided to shoot a message to your primary care doctor earlier that morning anyway and gotten the green light to start immediately, which was reassuring if not embarrassing. While you knew she didn’t take it this way, part of you felt like you’d essentially disrupted her life to say by the way, my husband’s gonna fuck me into oblivion until i pee positive on a stick, any objections?

Ushijima seemed to be taking this ordeal very seriously as he was prone to do, his diet even more regimented than usual despite being off-season and adding an extra ten minutes to his morning jog, a protein-heavy green smoothie in hand. While that was cute, what wasn’t cute was the fact that he hadn’t touched you in the past week.

When you rolled over to him in the middle of the night, slipping your hand down his boxers to try to get him to give you what he wanted, he responded with a kiss on the lips before gently removing your hand off of him and intertwining his fingers with that hand instead.

“If I’m going to breed you, it’s gonna be special,” he murmured almost directly into your ear, a tinge of slumber in his voice making his voice even more seductive.

Breed? The thought itself had your heart racing but not as much when he added,

“I’m saving up to fill you with the biggest load possible, sweetheart.”

With that, he patted you on the head before whispering for you to go to sleep and anchoring an arm around your midsection to snuggle with you, but the thought of what he would do to you had you wide, wide awake.

---

The fact that you were so focused on the main event made it easier for Ushijima to surprise you with the rest of the activities he had planned for Valentine’s Day.

It wasn’t the first since you’d been married, but he’d absolutely put even greater efforts into this one, starting with waking you up (after letting you sleep almost into noon) to an oversized box of chocolates and bouquet of roses and a handmade card with a haiku written in his neat script. If that weren’t enough, he’d brought you brunch to enjoy together, cozied up in bed, and topped off morning kisses with the revelation of a tennis bracelet to go with your engagement ring.

“Toshi, it’s perfect…,” you all but blubbered out, ready to burst into tears. He treated you so well.

“Not as perfect as you,” he said with a smile, welcoming you to bury yourself in his chest.

Dinner warranted more of an effort from you, and so you dressed up in your finest attire for the upscale restaurant, armed with the complete awareness that your husband planned to rip every inch of fabric off of you tonight. It didn’t help that while your meal was pleasant, you could see Ushijima grow impatient with time, adjusting and readjusting the sleeves of his blazer as night approached.

When you finally returned to the front door of your home, you were stuffed but not to bursting, and that very little bit of space left in your belly seemed to fill with new butterflies, especially with Ushijima’s hand resting at the small of your back as he opened the door.

Why were you so nervous? You’d had sex before, many times over, but something about today felt… different? Maybe it was the looming idea of purpose, and Ushijima knew purpose very well.

When the door clicked shut, he wasn’t on you immediately as you expected, but he was still ready, as were you. He leaned down to plant yet another kiss on your lips that seemed to whisk the nervousness away - again he was your Toshi, and you were his, and you were going to create life.

“Baby?” He asked, tentatively.

“Baby,” you agreed, wrapping your arms around his neck to start another kiss anew. He carried you effortlessly, keeping his lips pressed to yours as he pulled off your high heels and tossed them haphazardly, leading you back into the bedroom where a smattering of rose petals along the shag carpet and in the center of the bed greeted you, along with a lightly diffused essential oil blend with heavy notes of ylang-ylang and cedarwood.

Laying you carefully on your back, his eyes shifted from soft to focused, practically to match the level of intensity you saw when he was on the court, and your pulse started to pick up again. While he didn’t exactly tear the clothes off of you as you had anticipated, your dress was pulled over your body quite hastily to reveal all of you. Inches of skin to mark, a beautiful body to fill.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured again, leaning into your neck for soft bites and kisses. He was still mostly fully clothed, and you could feel his swollen length press against your pubis, thick and heavy.

He let out a sigh, and climbed off the bed to undress.

“Don’t move,” he ordered as he pulled off tie, shirt, pants, in that order, and you couldn’t tell if you were more distracted by the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, arms, chest and abs, flexing and relaxing with every minute movement or the swell of his fat cock at attention, anxious to bury itself inside you.

You gulped. You knew this was a ridiculous thought, but for a moment, you wondered if it was somehow bigger today?

Before you even realized what you were saying, you were already pleading, “Toshi… please be gentle…”

Ushijima smirked at your wide-eyed look, then shifted back to taking in your splayed out body with his eyes, as though mapping out his strategy while he idly fisted his length.

“Of course, love. I would never dream of hurting the mother of my kids.”

Yet, he was absolutely going to have his way with you.

It didn’t take him long to make a decision on how to attack, anyway, because he quickly resumed position hovering over you, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of anticipating, open lips, slightly knit eyebrows over a curious gaze. His lower half pressed against you closely enough that again, you could feel the entirety of his warm, girthy length pressing against the bottom of your quickly wetting cunt to your abdomen.

The sheer span of his cock reminded you that he was basically designed to do this.

The fact that he started moving first, rubbing his length across your belly as if trying out the course before he dove in also reminded you how much your body craved him always.

His fingers entered you hastily, and he reveled in the way your cunt already made the lewdest of noises, soft audible squishes with every pump of his fingers as he prepped you.

“So eager… so sloppy, waiting to receive all of my cum, aren’t you?” He teased, withdrawing his fingers to show you some of your slick. “You’re receptive,” he added, pulling his two fingers apart to show you the stringiness of your arousal.

“I-I want this too, you know,” your face growing hot from the tease, hotter still when he sucked your wetness right off his fingers.

“What do you want?” He said, raising an eyebrow, still moving painfully slowly on top of you, but angling his body so that he was just running the entire base of his cock against your wet slit, killing you with every second he wasn’t immediately filling you up.

“Your babies, Toshi...”

That made him smile, and you earned the slight entry of his cockhead into you, forcing a slight moan out of your throat. The stretch was intense, as always, but the fact that he slowed had you squirming for more, as fast as possible.

“T-Toshi… please, more,” you moaned as you raised your legs to slide down further on his cock, and he held them, pressing both firmly along his side.

“How much cum can you take in this little body of yours?” he asked, pressing right at your umbilicus with one hand, as he pushed in a mere additional inch.

You let out something between a moan and a scream from the overwhelming sensation of being stretched with so many inches to spare.

“Just fill me!!! Please, just put everything inside me,” you whined.

“As you wish, darling.”

His arms hoisted your legs above his shoulders and he did you the service of thrusting all remaining inches inside you, forcing tears from your eyes from the too full sensation, kissing your ankles beside his head as he gave you time to breathe and adjust. Once you’d settled from the sound of your whimpers slowing, he reached for the headboard behind you before he started his onslaught.

Thrust after thrust after savage thrust, you could hear his groans deepen as he plowed the grounds for his seed, his hands tightening firmly against the wood of your headboard as it creaked for mercy.

He felt so good, so perfect, so fitting, stretching you out like this to make room for his kin.

Your fingers etched desire into his back, as you choked up a demand for more sensation, more him, more closeness..

“More, daddy!”

“Daddy is quite correct,” he mused, his hands moving from the headboard to quiet instead the jostle of your breasts, palming them gently.

They were so pretty to him, he couldn’t wait to see them swell.

He leaned down again to swallow your moans in a kiss, then opted to flip you above him instead, before he continued to snap his hips, bouncing you into the air.

“T-Toshi, you’re ah- too fast!” You shrieked, barely able to stand upright, the ride too rocky and intense for you. Palming his abdomen to walk your way up despite your movement, he brought you back down flush against his chest again, holding you tightly.

“Let me do the work,” he whispered, kissing you, making your head swim to distract from the fact that he really was rearranging your guts. “I’ll do at least this much, since you’ll be carrying our child.”

And to that promise, you came almost instantly, an impulse of shock traveling from your slippery cunt up that you could almost feel in the tips of your fingers that made your body clench, your toes curl and the sound that came out of your throat less dainty and more primal, coming from so far deep inside you, even you were afraid.

As if on cue, his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, holding you steady as he pounded into you even further, faster, pushing past fluttering walls and soundless cries coming from your lips, until he finally came with a shudder, spurting thick, hot gobs of liquid that you could feel hitting your cervix.

And it kept coming; he held you tighter, so desperately you thought you might break under his touch, burying his face in your chest - you could feel yourself still clenching around him, so greedy, trying to milk him for even more than the generous amount he was giving you.

It would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant.

When it finally stopped, he left an arm around your back pressing you close to him, letting out a soft, pleased sigh with lowered eyelids. You stayed against him for longer, cockwarming him, your hands languidly coming to rest on both sides of his face.

Your darling Wakatoshi…

He stayed hard inside you, slowly giving you just one more stroke to atone for the small amount of semen that was already threatening to leak out around him, then laid you on your back.

“You’re doing so well already…” he encouraged, scooping up drops of him spilling out of you. “Keep it all in,” he said breathily, a warm palm pressing on your opening.

“I will, baby,” you nodded, and he gave you another peck on the lips, then moved to one of your mounds to take a pert nipple in his mouth and suck softly.

His hand lingered on your hot cunt, warm and dripping; he instead focused on stimulating your nipples with the other hand and his lips, forcing another orgasm out of you with time and dedication.

He’d obviously read somewhere orgasms themselves made pregnancy more likely. Always so thorough.

“You... f-feel so good,” you mewled, your back arching with pleasure as he used a thumb to stimulate your clit gently as he kept his semen inside you.

He smiled, stroking his already re-hardening cock in his hand, preparing for the next round.

“Anything for my Valentine.”

With that was implied, the love of his life, and the mother of his kids.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #not sfw #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #mae.writing #fic: november baby

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years ago

Text

for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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warwickroyals · 2 years ago

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XLIII: COMING UP ROSES

Beginning | Previous | Next

Transcript under the cut - Click for HQ photos

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Phillip was always Katherine's favourite grandchild, I think. Sometimes I wish she wasn't d*ad so that I could include her more in my story. This convo will become relevant later for . . . reasons . . .

All likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for the support 💜

[FOOTMAN] Your Majesty, welcome. It is such a pleasure to have you . . .

[???] No amount of flowers can mask the stench of this place. It’s a glorified barnyard.

[???] How he was able to tolerate it here for all this time is beyond—What’s that doing here?

[FOOTMAN] I’m sorry, ma’am, but His Majesty the King insisted.

[???] Really? He insisted? How touching.

[FOOTMAN] Yes, in case of your incapacitation. Ma’am.

[KATHERINE] As exciting as the thought of my incapacitation is, I thought my son and I had already reached an agreement on the matter. The wheelchair is for public use only.

[KATHERINE] . . . and the locals here have nothing but praise for you. You’re the most perfect little farmhand, according to them. Seems you made the most of the dreadful situation. Fancy a smoke?

[PHILLIP] I’m supposed to be cutting back, actually.

[KATHERINE] Cutting back? Your father shipped you off to this cow-dung invested wasteland and hasn’t allowed you the slightest luxury since. Do you really think I believe you’ve been “cutting back”?

[PHILLIP] I said supposed to be cutting back, didn’t I? I wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of accepting right away.

[KATHERINE] The look in your eyes when I asked was enough. I know a habitual smoker when I see one.

[KATHERINE] You know, I started out as a social smoker. When I was young and starry-eyed, I smoked because that’s what all my alleged friends did and so did our husbands and their friends. But now, all these years later, everyone is one of the Three Ds—[PHILLIP] The Three Ds?—Divorced, disgraced, or dead, darling. All I have left are the cigarettes and I’ve realized that they’re far better company.

Enjoy that, it will be your last one for a while. Things at home are as hectic as ever. Your father has been twisting James’s arm all summer and we’re expecting him to propose to that Frensworth girl any day now.

[PHILLIP] [MUFFLED] Tatiana? You don’t like her.

[KATHERINE] I don’t dislike her, although I worry about that hair. Also, she thinks she’s in love. That’s strike one, right out the gate. You can never marry into this family just for love. It will never be enough, that’s exactly what your mother did.

[PHILLIP] Are you going to stop it? You have this terrible stare. I always thought you would arrange something.

[KATHERINE] Don’t be stupid, this might be a monarchy but we live in the modern world. Your father told James he could have any high-born, mild-mannered girl of his choice and Lady Tatiana happens to be it. I just hate seeing her going in blind.

[KATHERINE] I’m surprised James hasn’t told you anything about her.

[PHILLIP] James and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms. He hasn’t called me once.

[KATHERINE] I know. I spoke to him in person last week. Do you want to know what he told me?

[PHILLIP] Not really, but I’m sensing I don’t have a choice in this upcoming lecture.

[KATHERINE] You’re right, you don’t. Phillip, I’m worried about you. Not because of what James told me, but because you seem completely lost. I don’t see a hint of motivation in you. Have you been studying for your entrance exam?

[PHILLIP] There’s no point. I’ll still get in even if I fail, fat chance Father will let them reject me.

[KATHERINE] This is exactly what I mean. On top of that you lied—I know, I know—For months. Phillip! You lied to your parents about being sober for months. I want you to tell me—I don’t—I want you to tell me, tell me: why?

[PHILLIP] Because. I guess I thought . . . I could stop whenever I wanted, or something, and it wouldn’t be a big deal.

[KATHERINE] Phillip. You can lie to your parents, but you know well and good that I can see through you.

[PHILLIP] Well, you people keep asking me for the truth but when I actually say it, it’s not what you want to hear. I lied because it was easier than telling them the truth. Dad keeps saying that I’m going to get myself killed, but, if I somehow went clean and things went back to the way they were before . . . I’d probably still kill myself.

[PHILLIP So, it’s like no matter what I do or how hard I try, I end up in the same place. Everyone acts like I’m just misguided and that there’s this happier, sober version of me buried under it all. But that person is still me and he’s not all that great, either. At least when I’m high I don’t care what other people think or say about me. I care too much otherwise.

[KATHERINE] What about the third version of yourself?

[PHILLIP] What third version?

[KATHERINE] The one version of you that’s sitting across from me. He’s sober, honest, and very much alive.

[PHILLIP] One bad day, Grandma, that’s all it will take for me to slide right back into it.

[KATHERINE] When James and I spoke, he said what frustrated him the most about you was your pessimism—I don’t really care what James has to say about me—Would you be shocked if I told you that he’s been struggling, too?

[KATHERINE] This is the royal family, darling. Whatever sibling rivalry bullshit is going on between you two, it needs to end. You are brothers. If you can’t be there for each other, you won’t be able to support anyone else who enters your lives.

[PHILLIP] I know, but he’s always acting like he’s so much better than me. More important. And I’m just a lost cause.

[KATHERINE] I understand. But James needs you, Phillip, more than you think. He might be the heir, but he can do the job alone.

[KATHERINE] Don’t you forget who you are. You’re still a Warwick.

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sunsents · 3 years ago

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Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

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