#but also it's been two weeks and i just rly need a hand to hold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starwritesstuff · 1 year

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i would do anything for you to love me like i'm an american hero

(Chap 1)

yeah yeah yeah this is a rainbow kitten surprise song title i can't help myself- i did draw quite a bit of inspo from this song anyhooooozzllessss i put this on ao3 but i figure since i be writing stuff here too i'll post it here.

summary: You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.” He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh? ---- You're pathetic and in love with your best friend. How do you love a ghost?

word count: 3,127

rating: this chapter is g rated buuuttt there is eventual smut so i cannot recommend minors reading this fic- also pls brace yourselves for a lotta angst i'm rly gonna PUT THEM THROUGH A BLENDER (insert me rubbing my hands together like some kinda Machiavellian freak)

The first time you meet Leon it’s in a cafe. He’d bumped into you in line. Leon muttered a sheepish apology and you thought it had been downright adorable.

You’d flirted shamelessly with him- how could you not? With looks like that, the near innocent way he had said sorry. He’d just stood there, a bit awkward, and you’d thought- god what a cutie.

After that you had started to see him a lot more frequently at that cafe and, well, you hadn’t been a regular. But you became one since that first interaction.

It’s not for another month that you get the courage to do more than make flirtatious comments- though he’s always a good sport about those.

“Anyone ever told you you’re kind of an awkward guy?” You ask him, sipping on your hot latte. Eyeing him. He startles, turning a very blue gaze your way.

“Ah, yeah.” He laughs, a dry thing, and rubs the back of his neck. “Might have been once or twice.” Oh could he get any more sweet? He reminds you of a puppy.

You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.”

He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh?

The two of you are standing in the lobby, someone shuffling past you to get to the line. Right. You’re in the way.

You turn back to Leon, grinning. “Do you want to come sit with me? Save me from boring reports?” You watch a flush settle along the back of his neck, crawling up to turn the tips of his ears red. You’re so in trouble.

Leon returns your grin with teeth that are slightly crooked. Furthering your deep descent into your crush.

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If you paced any more you’d likely wear a tread into the carpet.

It had been months, you think, since you heard from Leon. More since you last saw him.You knew he had an unorthodox job. Something dangerous. Leon always returned a little more banged than when he left.

You didn’t expect Leon, who was more or less a sweet, bashful guy, to have a job like that. But he always, always managed to make contact when he was gone. Whatever had happened you just hoped, wished, prayed to what deity would listen that he was okay. That he wasn’t dead. That he’d come back, even if he was banged up.

You force yourself to quit your relentless back and forth. Tea. You wanted- needed some tea. That honey chamomile you’d gotten last week at the store. You had some clover honey pops to go with it, if you could find them. You tap your fingers impatiently on the stove handle, waiting for the kettle to boil. When it does, you ignore the shakiness of your hands as you pour it over two bags. You like your tea strong.

Walking over to your couch, collapse. Curse loudly when you slosh some of that hot tea fresh off the stove on your fingers. You stick your pointer and middle finger in your mouth, wincing at the stinging pain. Gotta turn something on the TV, distract yourself. You settle on The Great British Bake Off. Stupid stuff, but you liked the friendly competition. And you got to see some pretty neat creations.

You settle into the couch, worn and comfy from years of use, like most of the things in your home. What can you say, you liked homey, comfy things. You draw the fuzzy blanket draped over the couch to you. Wrap yourself up. Sip your tea. And watch Paul Hollywood stare with his weird blue eyes.

It’s actually doing a great job of taking your mind off of Leon. British accents and pastries have that effect, you think. The heat kicks on and you take your sweater off, leaving you in your thin camisole. Too hot for blankets, sweaters, and the heat on. You pillow your head on the arm of the couch.

You don’t know what wakes you. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you have this awful feeling of being watched. Your living room was dark, your TV having gone into that energy saving mode it does when it’s on too long. You stay very still, heart pounding. There’s a creak and you know someone is there.

Could be one of two things because honestly, the only person that could access your home was Leon. Or, conversely, a burglar. Murderer. Whatever.

“Leon?” That seems the most obvious choice. You slowly sit up, rubbing gritty sleep from your eyes.

“Yeah.” Comes his husky reply.

“Christ. What time is it?”

“Just after one in the morning.” Soft light floods the room; he’s turned on one of your floor lamps. You shove a hand through your hair. You slept all of four hours probably. Your mouth is fuzzy and you run your tongue over them. Tastes nasty, too. You must’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. You hate doing that.

He comes over, to sit by you on the couch and god he does not look good. He’s got a cut over the bridge of his nose, deep purple coloring under his eyes and his straight brows are hung low, scrunching over his nose.

“So” you start. Stop. Take a drink of cold tea to wet your throat. This was awkward. Your locks had been changed. Did he pick them?

He isn’t looking at you, rather he’s looking at the floor. His hands hang loosely between his knees, elbows planted on his thighs. Leon looks exhausted. You had meant to rage at him a little when you saw him next. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that right now. Not when he looks like this.

“Long trip?” You settle on. Leaning back under your blanket, cradling that cold cup of tea in your hands. Just for something to do.

“Something like that”, he grunts. Opens his mouth, then closes it again. He shakes his head and for a wild moment you’re reminded of a dog shaking its floppy ears. You say nothing, turn your attention back to your tea. It’s tense. You rub your finger along the rim of the cup.

“I suppose I owe you an apology.” Leon’s squinting at you now. He looks unsure, like maybe you have the answers. You shrug instead. Your shoulders get stuck up by your ears though, hunching. You force them down.

“If you want.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Leon’s eyes slide over to you. He doesn’t seem familiar to you right now. There’s no boyish light in his eyes, no silly puppy look to his features. He moves with a deliberate slowness, nothing like the eagerness you’re used to. Something’s happened, you know it has.

You clear your throat.

“If you want me to leave, I can go.” Startled you look at him. “No. No, I was just… thinking about if you’d picked my lock.” It was only half of a lie, anyway.

Leon snorts. “Should consider locking the deadbolt. It’s there for a reason.” Ah, right. The deadbolt. You never use. You guess locks on a door handle are probably much easier to get through than a deadbolt.

“Look, I know it’s been awhile.” Leon says, shoving his elbows off his thighs and letting out a long breath. You fidget with your cup some more. “It has.”

You really have no right to feel this way. The two of you are… Best friends. Close, but not close in the ways to warrant this irrational anger you have. You feel almost abandoned. You cringe inwardly at the feeling. Abandoned. Yeah, what are you, some rescue animal dropped off at the shelter?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon’s jaw clench, the muscle fluttering under sallow skin.

You shift under your blanket, eyes bleary, focusing on some faraway point in the living room that you can't really see. You grumble about needing to find your glasses. A few seconds later, Leon hands them to you. You take them, careful to not brush his fingers. You don’t look at him when you quietly murmur your thanks. You wish that he would say something, or you would just open your mouth and say what you feel. Something to relieve the tension in the room.

“I’m surprised to see you. For a while there I wasn’t sure…” You trail off. You don’t want to finish the sentence.

He cracks a smile. It looks worn at the edges, a little unsure. “I wasn’t… I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.” Your shoulders hunch again at that. He probably wouldn’t have been welcome had you known he was going to come here, if you were honest. Ah, have you mentioned you hate this? Things haven’t been weird and tense between the two of you since, well, ever.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Am I?”

You pick at the blanket. “Of course.” You blow a breath out, blow it up and it stirs the hair off your forehead.

You grab the TV remote, turn it on.

“I was watching The Great British Bake Off.” You say when he doesn’t reply. The two of you sit for awhile. The TV lights flickering over your faces. You don’t know about Leon, but you’re not really watching. Not really, no. You were sneaking glances at him, taking his still stiff posture. How his hands haven’t moved from his thighs. He looks poised to run, you think.

The episode ends. Starts a new one. You think maybe the not talking happening between the two of you is going to drive you crazy. But you don’t open your mouth. Don’t try to pick at this weird shell he’s created, retreated into. You probably should. He’s your best friend. You should want to try to be there for him.

You’re scared. This new version of Leon feels like he doesn’t want to be here. With you. The old Leon would be excitedly telling you about blowing shit up and shyly asking if you wanted to get coffee at that cafe. As if you’d say no, despite the many times the two of you have kept up the tradition. Now he seems to not know what to do with you. How to be here.

You rub your nose. Pull your knees up. Tuck your hair behind your ears. You know you’re fidgeting. You can’t help it. You’ve never felt this- this weird next to him. Okay, maybe weird isn’t the right word. You certainly feel strange around him, you’re not a fool, you know why. But this is a new strangeness. It’s born of an insecurity that you never thought you’d have.

“You don’t… have to stay. You know? I won’t be mad if you have, like, other places you wanna be.” You wonder if that comes out as needy as you feel. Leon turns his gaze to you, something complicated flicking through his eyes. Quick enough that you don’t quite catch it, not quick enough that you don’t notice it and wonder.

“No, no. Sorry. I’m tired.” Leon’s tone gives nothing away. But it sounds like an excuse to your ears. Does he… pity you? Feel obligated to you? To stay? You try to grin at him, like you always do, like you used to. “Sure. Sure, yeah, I imagine. Um, the guest bed is always made up. You know, just in case.” And it had been. It stayed made up since the last time you had left. Leon huffs out a near silent laugh. “Is it?”

“Yeah. You kinda made a habit of crashing here, you know. So I just… kept it. I mean, I wash the sheets and stuff.” You hurry to explain that last part. You’d taken to keeping extras of things around the house for him. Toothbrush, towel, shirts and boxers and socks. It was all very domestic, blah blah blah. Your heart clenches.

Leon shifts in his spot. Toes off his boots. You wrinkle your nose.

“Walking around in my house with your nasty boots, huh” you chide him, teasing. You get a flash of a genuine smile at that. Your heart unclenches. Just a little.

“Sorry” he says. He doesn’t sound very sorry. In fact, you’d say he sounds a little mischievous. Leon holds his boots out to you. “Wanna see how nasty they are?” You squeal, smack at them. “You’re gross, Kennedy.”

He laughs, sets them by the couch. “You’re fond of telling me.”

You raise a brow at him. "Do you have to put them there? You could, I don't know, stick them. On the shoe rack. That is literally right by my door." Leon shrugs.

“Easier to just take them off here.” He teases. But he gets up, sets the boots on the rack. Holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “See? I put them away like a good boy.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle laughter.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a good boy if it came up and slapped you in the face.” You poke at him. “You’re a menace.”

Leon levels you with a kind of look that has your giggles freezing in your throat. Just shy of indecipherable, poorly hidden heat. You hadn’t really thought about the words when they came out, just enjoying the banter with him. You quickly look away. No way were you taking any time to pick apart that look. Adjust your mental position, firmly sticking yourself in the “Leon’s closest friend” category.

“It’s getting a bite late for me,” you say, fighting to keep your voice from wavering. “I think I’m going to actually go to bed.” You think you see a flash of disappointment cross his pretty features. But he stands with you, stretching. T-shirt riding up, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of pale skin, toned. Light scars littered amongst moles.

You turn your head away, give Leon a light pat on the shoulder. “See you in the morning? Let’s go to our cafe.”

“Sure, been awhile. D’you think they remember me?”

“Hard to forget, don’t’cha think?”

Leon laughs at that. Does that thing where he awkwardly shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. He needs a haircut, you think. It’s gotten over-long. Makes you think of a little emo boy.

“I’ll wake you when I’m up.” He was saying, jerking you out of your musings.

“No later than 8am, mister.” You warn him. Well aware that Leon was an early riser, no matter how little he slept. Leon puts a warm hand on the top of your head. “I promise, I will not wake you before 8am.” He says with mock solemnity. You suck your teeth in response, moving to knock his hand off your head. Retreat a few steps towards your room.

“Good. See that you don’t. Goodnight, Kennedy.” You call, escaping to your room. Try to calm your racing heart. Leon didn’t often initiate physical contact with you, and that was fine, really you preferred it that way. Because when he does, your brain fizzles out. Nervous system goes haywire.

You climb into bed, thoughts shifting to Leon’s earlier behavior. How tense things had been. It was the first time you felt that uncomfortable with him. The two of you were normally much more cohesive. You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever he’d come back from was different. Different from what he usually dealt with. Though, you know you likely won’t get to know. You generally weren’t privy to specifics with him.

You flip to your side, restless. Drag the covers your head, clutching a pillow close to your chest. And what was that ridiculous reaction earlier? Leon had looked… Hot? Sexy? Wanting? Your traitorous brain supplies. Surely not, not because of someone like you. Sure you flirted with him, had built a silly friendship with that flirtation as the foundation, but it didn’t mean anything. You’re, well, you. And Leon’s Leon. He was… magnetic, a little stupid, a little cheesy, but you’d been drawn to that. And he was pretty- really, you hadn’t seen a man so beautiful. All high cheekbones, full lips, delicate brows. And you weren’t convinced he didn’t use mascara or eyeliner, or something with lashes like those.

It hurt sometimes, looking at him.

You weren’t typically an insecure person. You’d even say that, sometimes, you might even be a bit big for your britches. But your friendship (you refuse to call it a relationship) with Leon left you feeling a little inadequate at times. That feeling had crawled into your sternum, made a little nest among your heart and viscera the first time he’d come back from a trip. You wished you could grab it, like it was one of those prickly things that attached themselves to your socks, and pluck it out. But it was there to stay.

You jerk the covers off your head, the space having gotten hot, humid and somewhat hard to breathe. You roll onto your back, dragging the pillow with you. You wonder what Leon was doing. Was he tossing and turning? Punching his pillow softer, to fit his head? Or had he just conked out, exhausted. Sometimes, when he stayed over, he’d get nightmares. And you’d find his silhouette in your doorway, shyly asking if he could sit with you for a bit. First time he did it you thought you might shit your pants. You had scolded him, told him to make a little noise. That waking up to him just hanging in the doorway like some kinda freaky serial killer was just terrifying. Since then, Leon had always made sure to purposely creak your creaky floorboards, to swing the door open noisily.

Not tonight, though. It was quiet. The overhead fan was the only sound you could hear. It was too quiet, one of those nights that made you wish you had a TV in your room, so you could stick something on. The silence just made your thoughts louder, screaming, ringing in your head. Knowing Leon was just in the other room, yards away, doing whatever it is he does at night, knotted your stomach. Quickened your breath. Made that thing in your chest ache.

You forcefully wrangle your melancholy thoughts into submission. It was far too late for any more of it, and you needed some semblance of sleep. You just know Leon’s going to wake you precisely at 8am, just to be difficult.

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil angst #mutual pining #friends to lovers #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #star's writing

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pepperyduck · 1 month

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falling in love with hanta sero

word count: 1.6k

warnings: not rly anything bad, college stuff, talking about growing up, sero being a cute boyfriend, not proofread. mdni.

notes: this was wayyy longer than i intended, it gets pretty mushy in some parts. much love and let me know what u think!

masterlist

you first meet hanta sero in the back of your humanities class – a class he failed the previous year, by the way.

he’s a year older than you, being forced to retake all the classes he flunked so he can finally graduate in the spring. you find him quite funny, with his peculiar laugh and weird jokes, and he takes a liking to you, too. it only takes you a week to get ahold of his number and attend a frat party with him the following weekend.

hanta will introduce you to all his friends, and you become a regular in their group “study sessions”; which always end up in everyone watching a movie and falling asleep in sero’s dorm. you and him always end up being the last ones awake, sharing philosophical conversations and laughing until the sun rises. it’s totally platonic when you fall asleep in his arms, the both of you exhausted from the week’s worth of schoolwork.

during winter break, hanta is a mess because you aren’t there to complete the group anymore, since you’re staying at home for the holidays. he sulks around all day, missing your intelligent conversations and pretty face. denki and kirishima try their best to cheer him up, but things just “aren’t the same” without you.

your absence for the few weeks is what makes hanta realize he really likes you.

upon your return, sero is the first one to envelop you in his arms in the group hug. once everyone else lets go, his embrace lasts for a second longer, because he just missed you so much. and now, he’s acting a little bit strange around you; he stiffens every time you playfully swat his arm, and silent when you come out to show the group all the new clothes you bought from the mall back home.

“what do you think, sero?” you ask, as he seems to be in some sort of daze, mind wondering from the discussion about the new dress you bought.

“um,” sero hesitates, “yeah- it’s…it’s really nice,” he tells you, unable to quit his staring at your frame. you think he’s beginning to not like you anymore. but oh, how wrong you are.

you’re on his mind non-stop, every second of the day. his new attitude isn’t because he dislikes you, no, it’s because he’s so genuinely in love with you and has no idea how to deal with it. he’s had crushes before, sure, but these are grown-man feelings, so intense and pure, something he’s no longer able to cover up with a laugh and smile.

it only takes sero two weeks after your return to confess to you on a pizza run late at night. you’re in his passenger seat, boxes of pizza warm against your lap, it’s the first time since you came back to college that he’s been alone with you. he’s even driving weird, back completely straightened as he grips the wheel with white knuckles. you ask him if he’s okay about 4 times before he finally snaps.

“i just…i really, really like you, okay? i mean- you’re so pretty, and smart, and-,” he blurts while mentally facepalming himself.

“hanta,” you giggle, interrupting his confession, “i like you, too. you need to chill out, i’ve had a crush on you since we first met.” you seem so nonchalant about the whole situation, but one of you has to be, because sero feels like he might explode at any second.

you can see his body language immediately relax as you reassure him you also had the same feelings. at the red light, he slumps against his seat, the thousand-pound weight finally lifted off his shoulders. you ask him on a date on the ride home, and end up holding hands the entire way back, preparing one another for the teasing you’re both about to receive from your remaining friends.

when the night of your first date rolls around, he’s 20 minutes early, pacing outside of your dorm room with a bouquet of flowers in hand. he’s so nervous, tripping over his feet as he strides from wall to wall, a clumsy mess of emotions. sero almost knocks on your door four times, the fifth time being the charm when he nervously hammers the door harder than necessary. and when you open the door and give him that million-dollar smile, his wobbly knees almost collapse under him as he hands you the bundle of flowers with a jittery hand. sero makes a point of taking you on enough dates for his nerves to settle before asking if you’ll be his girlfriend.

things between you and sero continue as before, only this time there’s more kissing among other things involved. the more time passes, you realize sero’s the one for you, with the way you effortlessly talk to him about everything and nothing at once, and the comfort that comes with just being around him. at all the parties and social events you attend, he’s literally making other girls talk to the hand, and you know you’re the only one for him.

once graduation comes around, he makes sure to put your name in his parting words, a sweet quote he probably found online, as you watch from the front row, supporting your man with everything in you. he’s got the proudest smile on his face after earning his degree, feeling so lucky he’s had you there to support him the last year. sero makes the photo taken of him dressed his graduate cap and gown and you, his screensaver. it’s the proudest moment of his life so far.

you’re more than upset on move-out day, crying many times as you move all of sero’s belongings out of his dorm room. all the memories shared in that room are tremendously significant to your relationship.

“it’s okay, baby,” sero says, catching your tears in his chest for the third time that day, “i’m only going to be a couple minutes outside campus, you can come and visit whenever you want,” he comforts you, assuring he will never be too far away. as soon as all the boxes are moved into his new apartment, sero gives you the spare key. you end up spending your summer vacation at sero’s apartment, and he invites your family to come stay whenever you miss them.

when fall semester makes its way back around, you’re left alone on campus, filling up the space of sero’s old dorm room with your own things. it’s an odd feeling not having his taste in the room, the spaces that were filled with laughter and late nights are now empty, only taken up by the photos of you, sero, and all the amazing friends he introduced you to.

you often find yourself coming to sero’s apartment before he gets home from his new, adult job, finishing your homework or cooking a meal for him. at times, you can’t stand sero’s old – your dorm, as it is no longer touched by him. but all that sadness quickly fades when sero walks through his apartment door, greeting you like he hasn’t seen you in forever. the change in your last year of college is uncomfortable, but necessary for you to transition into your adult life along with sero. your once puppy-love relationship blossomed and matured into a beautiful, strong connection as the both of you grow older.

for winter break, you and sero spend it travelling to visit both of your families, making sure an adequate amount of time is spent enjoying yourselves with family members. your family members adore sero, with the way he dotes on you and helps out in the kitchen after dinner, a noticeable difference in his old immature self. he’s growing up to be an amazing man, and you feel so fortunate to have helped him do so, and to be the one by his side the entire time.

falling in love with someone will always change you.

time seems to fly up to the point of your last semester. after your break, you return back to your dorm, hoping time will speed up until you have to leave. the seat next to you is taken by someone else, and you especially notice that now, not having as much time on your hands to leave campus to see sero. you mostly spend weekends with him now, when he isn’t working, but your time together is always taken up by you typing away on your laptop at the insane amount of essays due.

eventually, though, weeks pass, your last assignment is turned in, and you’re able to join sero in the next chapter of your lives.

at your graduation, you have a whole section of support, sero being front and center with your family and friends you made during your time at college. sero’s a blubbering mess when you walk across the stage, kirishima and denki on either side of him, all crying seeing the baby of their group grown up. you put sero’s name in your parting words, too, and you can’t stop yourself when tears roll down your face when you see your beloved boyfriend practically sobbing at how proud he is of you. hanta’s the first one you hug after the ceremony, you wrap your arms around his neck with your degree in toe, and his first words are to express how immensely proud of you he is. he doesn’t leave your side when you hug all the other people there for you, his words of motivation mean the most to you.

and of course, he makes sure you upstage everyone there, dropping down on one knee to propose to you in front of your entire class.

#this is so self indulgent its not even funny #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #i love hanta sero

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hoshiyoshis · 1 year

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also im throwing this here bc i have a dream tag for a reason

(copied from my dms to a friend)

ok so basically. i dont remember if it was televised or not (i THINK it might have been bc someone later mentions cutting something out if absolutely necessary but i never saw cameras anywhere or anything so???). i was on some sort of like… not survivor exactly lmao but a competition thing that was probably some sort of reality show too?

and idk there was this guy that i had the biggest crush on in high school (also unfortunately not the first time ive dreamed abt him like this ughh) who was on my team a lot and he'd continuously be flirty w me? holding my hand and saying stuff, teasing me, etc. like i think it was going on before the dream n whatnot bc i felt like it'd been happening for a while if tht makes sense since i only came in on like. Not The First Episode lmao

and idk we're all teamed up for something, waiting on ppl to pass word around or w/e, and he's literally sitting there with an arm around me, playing with my fingers when a woman on another team calls out something to him about how '(name) doesn't like you now, but give her a week lol, i'm sure she'll change her mind" (whoever it was was like. on another team entirely, im not subbing out my gov name haha id just say daisy) and i remember being like… SO thrown like um. what. why is she saying that. and the guy kinda laughs it off or w/e and says its just a joke but idk i think it bothered me a lot bc of what happens next

where we're like. in a car. taking turns getting out every so often to check around the city for more details for the quest we're supposed to be fulfilling? so that we can ykno pass it. and at one point its just the two of us in the car and im like 'you kno what, im done. i used to have the biggest crush on you in high school, but i never said or did anything because i was scared of getting hurt, and i know you never liked me back anyway so it didnt matter--but im tired of hiding it' and idk what he said back but it ended w him being kinda mad and him getting out of the car since our other teammate came back and hes like 'its ur turn' or w/e (clearly upset) so i go off to do w/e

and idk i barely remember the rest of it from there. i found the clues that we needed, we come back together, my team splits bc not all of us have to participate in the challenge (it was some sort of dance thing lol so i was automatically taken out like 'we've seen u' and i was like 'fair'). and idk i started feeling guilty bc i just kinda assumed his feelings on the situation + didn't rly let him talk. i don't remember if we got to talk before or after a small bit of someone pulling us aside like 'ok we CAN edit that whole confession situation out because it's messy but also please let us keep it in because it's messy'

#daisy.txt #hoshranghaes.dream

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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ok ok imagine spencer dating someone in the BAU and he’s been wanting to propose but is waiting for the perfect moment, then after a rly tough, emotionally draining case (maybe there was some kind of close call where she almost got hurt) he ends up proposing when it’s just the two of them in the elevator leaving the BAU once the case is over, because he can’t bare the thought of her spending one more second not knowing that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her ok I’m gonna cry now

here's what i think. also, the elevator takes hours, that's just how it is

Spencer was almost asleep in the elevator, head resting against your shoulder which was awkward because of how tall he was and odd because you're rarely physically affectionate at work. He couldn't sleep on the jet, and he desperately needed it. It was the perfect storm of a hard and long case.

"Should we get Thai?" You offer.

"No." He shakes his head. You frown because it's his favorite, and he can sense it. "You'll have to drive all the way across DC."

"So?" You ask. "I'll fly the jet across the country to get you comfort food."

He snorts and it's the happiest sound that's come out of him for an entire week. "Don't think Hotch would appreciate that."

"Being your girlfriend is more important than my job." You remind him.

Spencer's head snaps up so quickly you're worried about what he just thought of. "I don't want you to just be my girlfriend. I want you to be my wife."

Your eyes widen at his sudden declaration, but you laugh it off. "You must be pretty tired."

"I'm not kidding." He says firmly. "I'm so in love with you and I don't ever want anything to...happen."

You can see his brain start to race through possibilities. "Hey, hey, hey." You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. His eyes dart to your lips, and you lean forward to kiss him passionately. "Nothing's going to happen." You assure him.

"So, you'll marry me?" He asks hopefully as if there's any chance in the world you'll say no.

He probably could have asked you on your first date and you would have said yes. "Of course, but do you even have a ring?"

He's much more onto it that time, opening his satchel, producing a ring box, and once again surprising you. "I've had it for an embarrassingly long time."

You hold your hand over your mouth in shock, eyes filling with tears. This is not how you expected your night to go. "So, show me?" You mumble from behind your hand.

He flicks open the box, producing the most gorgeous ring you've ever seen. The tears are free flowing after that. "I hope that means I did an alright job?" He asks, grateful he was a profiler because otherwise he'd think her crying over the ring was a bad thing.

"There's really nothing you can't do, is there?" You wonder rhetorically. "It's perfect, I love it, I love you, and there's nothing I want more than to be your wife."

He takes your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger where it looks even more like it belongs. "I love you too."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

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clefairymuke · 3 years

Text

professor ackerman | one shot

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 6.7K

tw: oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, swearing, levi is an authority figure (professor), dom/sub dynamic, degradation/humiliation, cheating on an s/o, age gap (both adults - early 20s/late 30s), name-calling [slut, whore], daddy kink, size/stretching kink, spanking, pinching, biting, not explicit dumbification but definite vibes, brief mention of cuckholding, gagging, choking, creampie, i need to find a healthier hobby

themes: modern au, professor!levi, writer!levi, professor/student, enemies with benefits, mc's boyfriend (reiner) is right on the other side of the wall, levi is jealous and possessive as fuck, and all of that wonderful stuff in the tw^

tags: @number-0-iz @propertyoftoru @commanderawkward @thenamesholly @shortmexicangirl @missyasma @syubseokie @ceceofthevalley | reply to be added!! (p.s. hi taglist guys, this is a bonus chapter and tbh deviates a little bit from what actually happened but it is an update nonetheless)

note: hi so this is technically a bonus chapter for eloquent, but it's super easy to understand without context. this is just extremely shameless smut and for some reason the longest chapter of anything i've ever written. also, it's in levi's pov, which i personally find rly hot but let me know if you hate it. anyway this is disgusting, i can't believe i'm putting this on the internet, i hope you love it. here's a quick catch-up if not knowing the plot bothers you:

The reader is a graduate writing student studying under your advisor, published author Dr. Levi Ackerman. The two of you quickly find that you don't get along, with almost every meeting ending in tears or a screaming match. Still, an undeniable sexual tension pervades over both of you as you navigate the rocky relationship. Your boyfriend insists on escorting you to his office this week for moral support, oblivious to the steamy moment you had shared with Dr. Ackerman the Tuesday before. Seeing Reiner's hands on you, jealousy starts to take hold of Levi.

LEVI

When Levi pulls the door shut, the incessant ringing in his ears is finally a peaceful, eerie quiet. He watches you as you sweep your hands over your skirt to keep it stuck to your thighs as you take a seat in the plush armchair provided by the university — coarse to the touch, and creamy white, with coral-colored flowers splattered across its upholstery. You’re stiff.

He silently counts how long he’s known you now, but he isn’t confident in his calculations; he guesses four or five weeks, so he’ll call it a month. Long enough to pick up on a few things — how you chew your cheek when you’re nervous, and tuck your head to the ground. He’s noticed that on certain occasions you hold his gaze just a bit too long, and that when you look at the carpet afterward, it’s because your cheeks are blazing.

Does he revel in this? Absolutely. In fact, Levi had come to understand his feelings for you in recent weeks. He’d taken some time to rationalize it, and it seemed obvious: you’re a beautiful, intelligent, feisty young girl pining after his approval. It’s a stereotypical male fantasy, after all. However, he is professional enough to put that aside — or so he thought. Before he had the pleasure of meeting Reiner.

The moment the tall, blond oaf put his meaty hand on the small of your back is when Levi realized that he may have a much larger problem than he had assumed. He couldn’t see behind you, but he could picture those stubby fingers pressing into your skin — and, for whatever reason, this notion reminds him of the fact that you’re sleeping with him. He nearly shivers thinking of it again; he’s an expert at staying stoic, but you push his boundaries from time to time.

Although he has thankfully broken free of the hellscape that was standing in the waiting room with you and your “boyfriend,” Levi is not comforted. If anything, he’s a little more hazy. His temper has been quicker than usual as of late, with little to no help from you. As he walks over to face you, he shuffles through a thousand pressing questions — all of the loud variety, livened with intensely colorful language.

As he strides toward the chair on his side of the desk, your timid frame pulls him in like gravity. He makes a split second decision. Swallowing hard, he speaks. “I’m not reading anything today. I don’t really feel like it.” He turns early as he passes your chair, coming to rest on the edge of his desk; without waiting even a moment, Levi’s trying to find your eyes — but you don’t yield to him. You keep them turned to the ground as you tuck the folder to your side and suck in an irritated breath.

He writes it off as nerves, giving you the benefit of the doubt, but he decides then that he won’t give any second chances today. He isn’t fond of how sharp your tongue has gotten with him. Perhaps you understand the message in his glare despite refusing to meet it — because you oblige. When you speak up, your tone is bouncy and agreeable. It might be believable if you weren’t twirling your hair into intricate knots.

“Okay,” you say, and Levi almost jumps at the sound. You’ve taken your fingers out of your hair and switched to picking at the skin around your thumb. “Do you want to discuss something specific about —”

He wants to groan and roll his eyes, but he refrains. “No,” he interrupts you, tired of waiting. The sound startles you, and you finally meet his gaze. His eyes lock onto yours, studying them as closely as you’ll allow. He needs to gain control of this situation quickly, or he is going to have a nervous break. “You seem anxious. Why?”

The corners of your mouth turn up, but you smother them back down. He watches the gears move in your mind as you think, but it doesn’t take long for you to come up with an answer. “You’re kind of intimidating,” you say, and you’re smiling apologetically. “And after last week. . .”

This makes Levi angry. It’s a little irrational, but real anger nonetheless. He can’t comprehend how you could possibly still be hung up on him scolding you — for acting like a complete dumbass, at that. Not to mention the two impossibly suffocating elephants in the room: the fact that all he wants to do right now is kiss you, and the fact that the man that escorted you here is sitting right outside.

Levi takes a breath, but he doesn’t calm down. “That was last week. You fucked up, and I told you so. I said what I wanted to,” he snaps. Suddenly, as he watches you cower just slightly at the harshness of his tone, he makes several decisions all at once. For one, he decides he doesn't want to see other men touch you. As his eyes wander momentarily down your body, sliding past the achingly short hem of your pretty little schoolgirl skirt and over the slopes of your thighs, he can’t help but imagine the sounds you make when your “boyfriend” pushes the pleated fabric up to your hips. Your legs are crossed so tightly — but he can see you letting them spread, your knees just far enough apart for Levi’s hips to fit snugly. He then decides that he’s so, so sick of holding his hands back from you.

Levi looks back up at you, feeling his slacks growing a little tighter around him as you meet his gaze. You’re like a deer in headlights. He leans in just a millimeter, wandering vision flashing to the skin just below the hem of your skirt once more before his decisions are final. A grin pokes at one corner of his mouth.

“What makes me so intimidating, would you say?” Levi asks, surrendering himself over to Mr. Hyde. His voice is smoother now — more collected — and he suddenly carries himself as if he has a goal in mind. He watches everything, eyes piercing and pressing with the precision of a hawk. He sees your eyebrows shoot upward, but he just nods as if to ask the question once more. He expects you to take a moment to think about it, but you don’t.

“Your eyes,” you blurt out, regret evident on your face before your lips can even close. Levi studies the blood as it rushes to your cheeks, his chest filling up with an excitement that he’s through ignoring. As you clear your throat, he grips the edge of the desk a little tighter. His knuckles are white. Your eyes dart back and forth as you compose yourself. “I suppose your success probably plays a part,” you add, your voice fake and steady. Your eyes are trained on his, unmoving, as if you’re trying to prove he doesn’t scare you. He likes a challenge.

Levi bites the tip of his tongue before he speaks, as if savoring the taste of the question before it’s gone. “And what is it about me that you find so attractive?” he asks, leaning towards you instinctively. As he watches your lips part and your jaw relax out of shock, he can’t help but smirk. He decides that you’re very pretty when you’re flustered. You start stammering, your voice high-pitched and strained rather than the cool and collected tone you pushed before, but Levi waits patiently — the answer to this one has mystified him as of late. He frowns when your eyes shoot to the ground.

He had thought before that he would hesitate before touching you when he’d decided his agenda a moment ago; however, when Levi is faced with the frustration of not being able to see the movements of every little muscle in your face, he becomes impatient. He needs to be able to decipher you. Before a second can pass, he’s reaching out to you, putting one finger on the soft skin under your jaw and lifting your head until your eyes lock. His throat threatens to close, but his voice persists. “It’s rude not to look people in the eyes when you’re speaking to them,” Levi says, and it’s all he can muster. He savors that bewildered look in your eyes for only a second before standing.

The room has risen at least fifty degrees in temperature, and as he decides how he intends to compose himself, the black suit jacket that’s smothering him must absolutely come off. As the coarse fabric passes his fingertips, he’s confident enough to meet your gaze again. When he sees that you’re at least twice as anxious as he is, Levi relaxes just a bit. “Do me a favor and swap with me,” he says, watching intently as you shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together — which he’s sure you think is inconspicuous. “Sit on the desk.” As he motions towards the spot he sat in a moment before with his head, folding his jacket, his memory flashes back to looking up at you some time ago from the waiting room sofa. The temperature rises again.

To his pleasant surprise, you obey immediately. The chair creaks as you rise from it, settling as you inch to the desk only a yard away and spin on your heel. You tuck your skirt underneath you once again as you sit back down. Although Levi has tried to ignore it, the relentless tightness in the crotch of his pants is starting to bother him.

An obnoxious creak rings through the room as he pulls the armchair closer to you, but you don’t seem to notice it. The difference between your demeanor now and the nervous-yet-brash attitude he typically has the pleasure of accompanying is astounding; it’s hard to look anywhere but just in front of him as you fidget in place, pupils blown wide and lips open wider. When Levi is satisfied with the distance between his hands and your body, he takes a seat.

Something like fire runs through his veins when your chin dips down so you can look him in the eye. It’s clear you’ve been eager to prove yourself wrong since your slip a few minutes ago — and Levi can’t help but be impressed by it. He watches your hands as they grip the desk a little tighter, just like he did in the same position. Then, centimeter by centimeter, his gaze trails down to the hem of your skirt. “I like this better,” he says, trying his best to pull his eyes back up to your face, but failing as your knees trail further apart with every word that comes off of his tongue.

Levi thinks of your handsy chaperone just outside, and a bit of anger shoots through him. Before he can even process that, however, it’s already turned to something darker. The newly formed vendetta the lust-hazed man has against your “boyfriend” is not at all justifiable, but that doesn’t make it any less real. If he were to truly have his way — meaning, if he were a much worse person and didn’t care so deeply about your image of him — you’d let him have you against the door, and Levi would be sure to make it rattle as loudly as he possibly could. He might even turn the handle on “accident” and let the door creak open a bit just to be sure your ride-along gets the fucking message.

Then, Levi reminds himself that he is an adult, and that you’re practically squirming in front of him as he takes the time to think this. It’s hardly noticeable, but your shoulders rattle just a bit when you breathe. He loves what he does to you. “That was awkward outside. You’re not nearly as into him as he is you,” he comments after a moment of tense silence. You suck in a sharp breath — a mistake, on your part, because it sends a little jolt of anger through him. Why are you so nervous about Reiner?

He calms a bit as you shake your head, as if in apology. “He’s nice, you know, it’s just not exciting. I don’t feel much of anything,” you say, guilt laced in your voice. He can’t hold back the snicker that escapes his lips as things click into place for him; of course you aren’t a fan of the nice guy — a college-age girl lusting after someone who’s notoriously abrasive and fifteen years older than her usually wouldn’t be.

You look puzzled, so Levi chooses to let you in on the joke. “You don’t seem like the type of girl to like the ones that treat you well. It must be daddy issues or something.” He smiles to himself as you let out a huff; you’re very entertaining when he can manage to piss you off, which is often enough. “I asked if I could touch you before; is the answer still yes? It’s okay if it isn’t.” Levi fixes his gaze on you to gauge how you react — he’d never want you to feel pressured — but he quickly learns that he doesn’t need to.

You take a shuddering breath and practically whisper, “Yes, please,” and it’s all he can do not to push you back against the desk and lift that pretty skirt out of his way. But still, he resists. Today, Levi wants to make a point. What he really wants — which is to pin you down and fuck you until he’s satisfied enough not to think about it all the goddamn time — will have to wait for the next meeting. He’s not worried about the consequences at the moment. Lust might be clouding his judgment, but he figures everything is aired out now. May as well follow through.

You look utterly desperate, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more darling. The word “please” lights a little fire in him; if he’d known all it took for your respect was insinuating he wanted to fuck you, he would’ve started being honest a long time ago. He hums in approval. “Good manners.” This is all it takes to brighten your eyes and perk up your timid frame, and Levi feels himself get harder at the sight of it. He hopes you’re always this desperate to please him — it’s his favorite expression on your angelic face.

He lays his hands on your legs, fingers slipping just past the hem of your skirt; his thumbs comb left and right over the soft skin of your inner thighs, little threads of electricity linking all the way through his veins. Levi nearly joins you as you shiver beneath him, but he stays collected. As beautiful and enticing as you may be, he still has a career to attend to. This meeting is unfortunately crucial to more than one of the writer’s current goals.

“The rest was an improvement, so I didn’t mention it last week, but I feel like some of your more passionate moments fall flat. You get too excited for the end and rush through the most engaging parts,” he tells you, his mouth starting to water as he feels the heat radiating just an inch further up your thighs. The statement is rooted in truth, but it’s also a reasonable explanation for what he’s preparing to do to you. Levi is a prudent believer in killing as many birds as possible with one stone.

The skin is softer the higher his fingertips explore, but you’re beginning to grow impatient. You shift down on the edge of the desk, desperate for his touch just two inches further. He allows one corner of his mouth to turn up as he indulges in your desperation. “How — How can I fix it for next time?” you breathe, and he instinctively pushes right up to the lace of your panties. After all, Levi is just as desperate as you are. A sweet, greedy whine rings from your throat as his fingers brush by, and it’s music to his ears.

He wants to frown as you squeeze your lips together to silence yourself, but he lets it slide. Besides, he’ll have you making prettier sounds in a moment. “I was hoping you’d give me permission to show you. I thought you might want to try something a bit more hands-on,” he replies smoothly. Levi waits for your approval, although he already knows the answer, and you nod eagerly. He can’t help but grip your thighs tighter when he sees your pleading eyes. You’re behaving uncharacteristically well today.

Soft lace brushes against his thumb as he runs it along the edge of your panties, and you inhale sharply. Looking up at you again, you’re practically drooling, with your mouth hanging open and your eyes brimming with lust — and he’s never been so bewitched. Levi thinks for a moment that if sirens and mermaids had your lilting voice and enchanting face, he could finally understand all the dead sailors of literature. He’d take a lifeboat out in a hurricane if it meant you’d need him like this again.

He pulls one hand from the warmth underneath your skirt and reaches up to cup your chin, pulling you closer. As your face creeps forward, he can’t help but stare at your lips. “Are you afraid?” Levi asks, fighting the urge to bring his hand up just an inch and push his thumb into your mouth. This time would be about you.

“Yes,” you reply, trying to let yourself down on his hand inconspicuously once again as he grins up at you. Levi thinks you might get more out of being intimidated than he does out of intimidating you, and he adores it. He grazes his fingertips along your soft cheek as he reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Returning to your thighs, he isn’t reserved about touching you any longer. The bottom of your panties is now damp to the touch as Levi tortures you gently through the fabric. A little whimper escapes your lips, sending a pulse through him, and you speak up again. “What should I learn from this?” you ask, needy eyes boring into his as you squirm against his hands.

Levi pretends to think, letting out a “Hm,” as he glances up at the ceiling. “It seems counterproductive to spell it out for you. They’ve been pushing student discovery and critical thinking in recent years, you know,” he teases you, waiting for any little distraction so he can tear off your panties and finally give you exactly what you want. When your eyes squint shut for a melodic laugh, he gets his wish. Taking the lace at your hips in each of his hands, he slides them over your smooth legs and tosses them on the desk you’re perched on.

The spotless white lace flashes through the air, but Levi can’t pull his eyes away from the dark little void underneath your skirt and just between your legs. Pushing the swath of fabric up to your stomach is the only thing on his intensely focused mind, but he doesn’t want you to be satiated yet. Cat and mouse is his favorite game.

“White. What an ironic choice,” Levi jokes, feeling your body shudder with every shallow breath. “It represents innocence, you know. Purity.” For the first time, he really touches you — he drags his finger along the inside of your thigh and then right down your slit, and it pulls him in no matter how much he tries to resist it. The desk creaks as you shift, and Levi can feel what you’re doing before he sees it: one of your hands entangles in the hair on the back of his head, shooting a tingle down to the tips of his toes, and you nudge him closer. You want his mouth on you as badly as he wants to taste you.

The dainty fingers pressing at his scalp can stay for now, but Levi surely doesn’t intend to let you push him around like this — as desperately as he wants to oblige. “And look at you,” he taunts, eyes flashing up to catch yours. “One touch and you’re pathetic.” It’s clear you’re becoming impatient as you tug at him again, more sternly this time, traces of quiet, needy whines and whimpers littering from your plush lips. Poor thing — you can’t possibly be the one in charge when you’re like this. Levi takes a bit of the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh and pinches it, just hard enough to get your attention.

A high pitched yelp escapes your mouth and your hand falls back at your side, satisfying him for now. You pout at him, but he just glares back, giving you a tsk. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Levi warns, ”I’ll make you wait longer.” He’s not sure if he can follow through on this threat, but he won’t need to. Seeing the sincerity in your eyes when you nod back at him, he knows you’re putty in his hands.

That expression is all it takes to break him. He takes the hem of your skirt and pushes it up over your pelvis, sliding his hands further upward to grab onto your hips. As he stands, your bodies parallel and only an inch apart, he adjusts you to sit just a bit further back. As deeply as Levi wants to look down at your now-exposed cunt, he’s locked on your eyes. Your smooth skin erupts in goosebumps underneath him as he draws circles on your lower back with his fingertips, fighting the ferocious urge to attach his lips onto yours. “Do you know my first name?“ he murmurs lowly, each of your shallow breaths on his face sending a shiver down his spine. The tip of your nose brushes against the tip of his as you nod, and he thinks he might faint. “Tell it to me,” he begs.

He relishes in your shallow gasp before you oblige him. “Levi,” you say, near a moan. He has to hold in one of his own as the sound rings through his ears, disguising it as an approving hum. Prying one hand from its position on your lower back, he reaches up to pat your cheek twice.

“Good girl,” he coos, before finally dropping to his knees. The coarse carpet scratches through the fabric of Levi’s slacks, like tiny needles poking at his knees, but he puts it aside. The sweet scent drifting to his nose and the lovely sight just a few inches in front of him are enough to cure any ailment. Every millimeter of your deprived skin shudders beneath his touch as he trails up your thighs, stopping at the deep creases at the tip top of each of your legs. He aches to go further, but he stops himself.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Beg me for it.” He licks his dry lips before blowing a thin stream of cold air over your exposed clit, feeling your body squirm and tremble beneath his touch. Levi almost smiles.

“Touch me,” you breathe out, and he loves it — but you don’t get to make demands today. He pinches your thigh again, drawing another yelp from your open lips. Your legs close reflexively, forcing his hands out and pinching his eyebrows together. There isn’t any resistance when Levi knocks them apart again, so he pushes your knees a few inches further than they were before, giving you a little tut.

“Don’t whisper,” Levi demands. “Speak in complete sentences.” His impatience becomes overwhelming when he sees the insides of your thighs glistening as they spread, wanting nothing more than to find out how it tastes.

“I want you to touch me,” you admit. “Please, Levi. I can’t wait anymore.”

Instead of pausing to consider that he’s going straight to hell for this — as he probably should — Dr. Ackerman just relinquishes all control to the far less respectable character he’s displayed so blatantly in recent weeks. If the spiteful, lustful man on his knees in front of you had ever bothered to fear God, he’s suddenly very sure he’d be damned anyway. So he just dives into you, unhesitant, wrapping his arms tight around your thighs and pressing his fingers into your lower back. He feels your skin move under his nails as your spine arches, and your stomach presses against the top of his head.

The taste overwhelms him, distinctly saccharine with a citrus-like tang as he dances circles around your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue. The fervent moan that erupts from your lips is so heavenly that Levi is sure he’s dreaming it. He expects more to follow as he laps expertly at the oasis beneath him, a low growl gathering in his chest, but you soullessly mute yourself after that. Stubbornness overtakes him as the knots in his stomach tense at the loss of your sweet voice, sending his face to burrow deeper and his tongue to swirl more deliberately in an effort to draw out another.

Unhinging the desperate grip he holds on the small of your back, he traces a measured circle around your slick, neglected entrance with one finger, relishing in your indigent shiver. Although he’s reluctant to lose the taste, Levi releases your clit from his mouth and directs his attention to your alluring gaze as a muffled whimper sounds behind your hand — which is clamped stiffly over your mouth in an effort to deprive the starving beggar beneath you of the only thing that can satisfy him. Swift as to avoid any protests, he plucks your hand away by your wrist and sets it dismissively back on the desk. “I want to hear you,” he says ardently, unmoving in his conviction.

Your eyes go wide, signaling some imminent danger to which Levi must be oblivious. His mind is clouded under somewhat of a frenzy as your taste soaks between his lips to endlessly land fresh on his tongue. “But I — He’s —” you try to argue, your anxiously roaming eyes falling on his mouth far too often to be inconspicuous. He hopes that you kiss him, but you speak again instead. “Levi, please,” you beg, doe-like eyes boring into the great oak door at his back. In an instant, it clicks: he realizes that you don’t want your boyfriend to hear you.

Levi licks his glistening lips, looking you up and down as you cower under his desirous glare. He jerks his head to the beige wall that divides his office, feeling a grin tug one corner of his mouth up in anticipation. “Go put your hands against that wall,” he orders, sizing up your reaction with glossy, insatiable eyes. Your head shakes immediately, but he can see your thighs rub together in search of friction. He narrows his stare. “What’s that you said yesterday? ‘I can’t speak to you that way?’ Where’s that brave girl now?” Levi taunts, rising from his seat and stepping back to give you room. “Go, brat. Don’t act innocent now.”

You obey, affirming once again that you’re willing to do anything he asks. His stiff, swollen cock threatens at the zipper of his pants, but he contains himself a little longer. Watching you prance across the office as your skirt flounces behind you is enough to unnerve him, but seeing your dainty, slender fingers spread when your palms lay flat on the wall almost takes him out. Levi’s shameless eyes focus blatantly on your ass as it invites his belt buckle to rest against it.

One of your straying strands of hair tickles his nose after a few long strides across the room, and he no longer has the patience to make you wait. A whimper sounds from your obscured mouth as he kisses your neck and grinds against your near-exposed ass, taking your untouched breasts in his hands and kneading them gently. Your ear lands flush against the wall as Levi pins you against it with his torso, and you moan despite the obvious reminder of your gentleman caller. “What’s wrong?” he teases in your ear, feeling you tense beneath his embrace. You’ve been awfully quiet today. “Say it out loud,” he enforces.

Dr. Ackerman explores you after weeks of holding himself back, rolling his hips against you assertively and taking your stiff nipples between his fingers over your soft sweater. “My boyfriend is right outside,” you breathe, letting an unabashed whine sing from your throat as you grind back against him, shaking your ass against the already-engorged bulge in his slacks.

A laugh bubbles from Levi’s mouth. “And I’m right here. Which one are you begging to fuck you right now? Is it him?” You don’t say anything for a long moment, bringing a scowl to his face. He reluctantly lets go of one of your supple breasts and instead smacks your ass, biting scarcely at your neck as a little sting branches through his palm. You yelp. “Answer me when I speak to you,” he orders.

“No.” you reply swiftly. “It’s you, Levi.” The sound of his first name set in your beautiful voice fills him with a warmth he can’t describe as a rare, wide smile flashes into your neck. With that, he sinks to his knees, burying his face between your cheeks and tasting you on his tongue once again. Levi has finally defeated all of his inhibitions as he licks hungrily at your folds, moaning along with you as you finally let loose. He sucks harshly at your clit as he plunges two fingers into your dripping pussy, thrusting them to the rhythm of his name pouring from your lips. “Levi, Levi, Levi,” you repeat, rocking yourself back against his fingers pathetically.

The addition of a third finger and a slight curve at the knuckle brings about an unbearably arousing squeal as he thumps against your g-spot, never relenting his steady assault on the swollen nub he holds gently between his teeth. “Levi, fuck, please — I’m about to cum,” you beg, and Dr. Ackerman ceases all of his movements at once. Dick twitching at the sound of your voice, he realizes he needs to feel you throb around it when he makes you cum for the first time. His fingertips glide up your bare legs as he stands, listening to the needy whimpers you produce as you cope with the loss of contact.

The ends of your eyelashes brush at his cheeks when Levi twirls you to face him, pressing your back firmly against the wall and sliding a brave hand loosely around the base of your throat. At an approving hitch of your breath, he lets it tighten. At the left, his other hand brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down to hold your chin in place. He watches your eyelids flutter when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, desire washing over him as your mouth falls invitingly open. Wet, coarse tastebuds brush beneath his touch as your lips open wider and his thumb comes to rest on the back of your tongue, feeling it move as you gag at the invasion before adjusting. He admires your perseverance.

Static rolls over Levi’s body when you close your mouth and hollow your cheeks around the digit, your big, innocent eyes never leaving his own. As your tongue swirls around his finger, every thought in his hazy mind spirals down to tossing you to your knees and burying himself as deeply in your throat as he can manage.

He digs his thumb a little deeper, making you gag again. “You look so fucking pretty like this, baby,” he murmurs, the hand around your throat unwrapping itself to trail down your arm. “I never knew it would be so easy to get you to shut the fuck up.” Levi pulls his thumb from the warm solace of your mouth and starts at his buckle as his right hand wraps around your wrist. He spins you to face the wall before wrapping the arm around your back and holding it taut. A puzzled yelp rings in his ears as he yanks his zipper down.

His stiff, throbbing length springs straight out as he pulls the waistband of his underwear down just enough to free it; impatience overcomes any inclination toward nakedness. You gasp as the sensitive tip brushes against your clothed frame. The scents of vanilla and sex invade his senses as he presses his face into your neck, grinding himself against you until he can feel your dampness through the polyester. After a moment of this, Levi takes your other wrist and pins it roughly alongside the other.

“Tell me what you want,” he groans softly, leisurely pumping his dick with one hand and restraining your hands with the other. “Loud enough so you aren’t sure if your boyfriend can hear you or not.” Levi chuckles to himself, groping your ass roughly before returning his hand to himself. “Show me how bad you want it, desperate little brat.”

He realizes he’s broken you in nicely when your voice rings out clear and loud, your ass grinding back against his cock as you speak. It takes everything in him not to thrust into your dripping heat before you even finish your thought. “Please fuck me, daddy. Keep talking to me like this. Please,” you whine shamelessly, leaving Levi in shambles.

Having women call him something so lewd has never crossed his mind — Professor or Dr. works nicely in a pinch — but it sounds so delicious to him coming from your sweet lips. Folding your skirt up over your ass with one hand and lining himself up at your entrance with the other, Levi lets out a husky groan. His mind is cloudier than it’s ever been as the sensitive head of his dick drags through the slick juices soaking down to your inner thighs. “Fuck, call me that again, baby. ‘M gonna fuck you so good,” he mumbles into your neck.

Levi’s tight, sweet haven resists him as soon as he starts to enter you, but you shove your hips back onto his cock in retaliation. He feels like he’s found nirvana as your warm pussy grips the tip of his dick, pushing to take more. Electricity to a level he’s never experienced shoots through every vein underneath his skin as you envelope him. He quickens his pace as soon as he’s submerged enough, looping his free hand around to rub circles on your clit.

Pretty, singing moans ring out from your lips like you have no worries in the world. “So big, daddy,” you whine, throwing your ass back on his length with more conviction. “I want all of it.”

He adjusts your walls roughly around his width without waiting for them to relax completely, hungry to feel your cunt pulse as he pounds your furthest depths. A fourth of his throbbing length still remains uncovered after the third rough stroke, but the blissful string of moans ringing from your pretty throat lead him to believe that you love being stretched as much as he loves the way you squeeze his cock.

“I wonder what your boyfriend thinks you sound like right now, huh, pretty girl? Does he think you sound desperate?” he growls, tightening his hold on your restrained arms as he thrusts into you. “I think you sound like a greedy,” deeper, “fucking,” harder, “slut,” to the hilt.

Levi sees stars when it finally swallows him whole, the head of his dick battering the back-most wall of your snug pussy. His enlightened ears are full of lewd, unabashed moans as he fucks into you, rolling his hips with every stroke. The tops of your legs start to shake with his assault on your clit, your noises becoming more desperate. “I’m close,” you whine, laying your head back on his shoulder.

Your wide, beautiful eyes entrance him as Levi feels your walls pulse around his cock. “Cum for me, princess,” he coos, holding your gaze and rubbing your clit faster. “Let him hear what a good whore you are for me.” He didn’t think it was possible, but the warm, dripping mess surrounding him grows even wetter with his words.

Your cunt convulses around him as you release, sending waves of intolerable pleasure through his body. As you cry out for him, Dr. Ackerman’s eyes get even darker. Although he planned to keep a steady rhythm and let you ride out your orgasm peacefully, he picks up the pace. Dropping your arms, he spreads your asscheeks wide and digs himself a little deeper, beating so harshly against your spot that he’s sure it’s painful.

“Look at you,” Levi mocks, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a perfect red handprint. Your pussy clenches tight, and you let out an angelic sound. “You aren’t ashamed of yourself at all, are you?”

It’s difficult to discern your words between the moans, but he refuses to slow his pounding. “No, sir,” you stammer out, digging your fingernails into the wall. “I love it.”

Levi rakes his hands underneath your sweater and unclasps your bra with urgency, sliding his palms over your breasts. A pinch to both of your nipples earns a squeal before he rolls them around in his fingertips and feels you purr beneath him. “You’re behaving so well for me,” he hums, slowing his strokes gradually until they’re mind numbing. “Who do you belong to, sweet girl?”

Levi’s breath catches in his throat as you clench around his length, sending his cock a little deeper. For a moment, it crosses his mind that he loves you. Your quiet whimpers get more desperate the slower he goes. “I’m yours, daddy — fuck — Levi, please don’t stop,” you beg.

He swiftly unsheathes his dick, the loss of contact overwhelming as he turns you around to face him. Without a word, Levi loops his arms under your shamefully wet thighs and lifts you, pinning your back roughly against the wall and planting his forehead against yours. He slides into your soaking cunt like it was tailored to fit him, watching your eyes roll back into that pretty, empty head. “Let me cum in my pussy, baby,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he adjusts to the intense pleasure. “Before I — ah, shit, that’s good,” he breaks off, tightening his hold on your shaking legs as your walls constrict around him and you nod eagerly in approval. “Before I send you back to your cuck fucking boyfriend,” he moans in your ear.

The knots in his stomach are wound tighter than he thought, but he keeps himself steady as he rocks into you, looking down to watch his thick, glistening cock split you open as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Levi attaches his hungry lips to your neck as he feels his orgasm approach him. A sweet sting pricks through him as ten fingernails dig into his scalp, entangling in his hair, and he lets out an animalistic moan while you release around him.

He spreads your legs a little wider, ignoring your pained whimper to touch your knees to the wall as he drills you harder, and deeper. There’s no banter left for him to spout anymore — the only thing in Levi’s mind is burying his cum in his new favorite toy.

He bites down hard on your collarbone as his thrusts start to lose their rhythm, the knots in his stomach unraveling as his dick twitches inside of you. Euphoria overcomes him as he drives his cock down to its hilt and lets his climax take him over. Levi doesn’t stifle the low, raspy moans that escape his throat as he feels his cum flood into you, his dick throbbing in time with every shallow breath. Nothing has ever felt this good.

Burying his face in your neck, Levi allows himself this long moment of peace.

381 notes · View notes

weasleylangs · 3 years

Text

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward. Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention. Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa @weelittleweasley @lumos-barnes @lumosandnoxwriting @loveboyhalo @harrysweasleys @freds-slut @rcwenaclaw @barneswidow @fandomhideout

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile.

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long.

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something.

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth.

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.”

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!”

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?”

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what.

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind.

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling.

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in.

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.”

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter.

“Did you at least swipe right on me?”

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.”

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.”

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.”

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people.

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will.

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.”

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile.

“Of course, Freddie.”

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend.

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel.

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass.

“What happened today?”

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up.

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.”

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him.

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.”

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?”

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?”

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking.

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans.

“You told me to stop being picky!”

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing.

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.”

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.”

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother.

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :)

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;) > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :)

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred.

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of his little brother’s best friends.

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him.

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?”

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?”

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N.

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis.

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.”

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath.

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy.

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw.

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom.

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet.

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together.

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred.

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?”

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet.

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure.

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up.

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.”

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves.

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at.

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead.

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything.

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment.

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey.

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?”

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.”

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant.

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?”

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?”

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms.

From: Neville > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram.

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick.

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more.

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen.

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!”

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-”

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up.

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.”

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.”

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.”

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears.

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?”

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced.

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers.

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked.

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fae writes

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now, slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?”

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers.

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.”

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...”

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt.

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you.

“O-oh, Wonwoo...”

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.”

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.”

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...”

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.”

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit.

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...”

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip.

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard.

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!”

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get.

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~”

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you.

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~”

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm.

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.”

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms.

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right.

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #wonwoo fic #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu

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tanzaniiite · 4 years

Note

can i request the trend of tiktok “the faster you get to me the more kisses you get!” with tsukishima, akaashi, bokuto and hinata? 🥺👉👈

“THE FASTER YOU GET TO ME, THE MORE KISSES YOU GET” TREND

w/ tsukishima, akaashi, bokuto, hinata & iwaizumi

requests: OPEN

warnings: talk of pee and poop in iwaizumi’s

a/n: of course you can! thanks for the request! 💓 (also the trend is used more as a prompt than it is as the main focus whoops 🤡)

i added iwaizumi bc he was requested in another ask so i just merged the two. my character limit is still four max!

who gave him the right 🥵

the salt lick himself

this dude is annoyingggg

you already knew what his reaction was gonna be,, so why bother?

welll you just wanted to be like all the other tiktok girls 👉🏽👈🏽

you wait until you see tsukki and yama walking out of the club room and towards you

you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment

“babe! the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get!”

no shit, he stops in his tracks. yama’s just looking at him like ‘what you finna do?’

you know what he does? turns around and starts walking in THE OTHER DIRECTION

you are… baffled

when finally catch up to him, you’re pouting

“dude, what the hell?”

he glances at you, then flicks your forehead dummy hard

you’re triggered, “did you just flick me?”

this snarky mf is now laughing at you

btw yamaguchi is very uncomfortable rn

tsukishima the leans down, bean pole headass, and kisses your forehead

“sorry i don’t do dumb tik tok trends”

“it’s not dumb! you just didn’t want to kiss me”

he looks at you with an unimpressed look, as if saying, ‘we both know that’s not true’

alas you’re still pouting

yama: “haha this is me, see you guys tmmr” *leaves in awkward*

tsukishima knows your not gonna stop acting like a baby until he gives you what you want

he sighs, walks a couple feet away from you, pulls out his phone and starts recording

“say the thing”

“huh?”

“the trend thing. say it”

your eyes light up so much and tsukki smiles a bit

he’s so soft for you uwu

“the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get!”

because he’s a tall boi, it only takes him a few steps to get to you but when he does, he kisses you hard

like damn, okay sir

when he pulls away you’re flustered asf, he chuckles and stops recording

“happy?”

this poor boy wouldn’t know a tiktok trend if it punched him the face

i hate to say it, but he’s a boomer 😔🤘🏽 just like dadchi

he’s at your house picking you up for a date and your sibling is bombarding him with questions

when you come out, akaashi is like ‘oh thank goodness’

you smile at him, then wack your sibling in their side

“stop bothering him you weirdo!”

“what we’re just having a nice lil chat”

you shake your head and start to walk away but your sibling is holding akaashi back, giving him the typical ‘you hurt her, i kill you’ speech

now you know your boyfriend is great when he’s under pressure but.. this is new territory for him

you remember a trend that you saw a while back and decide to do it now

you know keiji wants your family to like him, so he’ll be conflicted between going to you or staying and listening to your siblings speech

it’s perfect really

so you pull out your phone and start recording

“baby! the faster you get to me, the sooner we can go on our date and the more kisses you’ll get”

my guy just blinks, “it is getting late..”. plus he’s not opposed to the kissing part so he starts to walk towards you

“hey! i’m not done talking to you”

‘that’s true, it would be rude of me to walk away mid conversation… if you could even call it that’ he thinks

you laugh slightly, you can practically see the gears spinning in his head

“keiji come on we don’t have all day”

“don’t you walk away from me”

akaashi sighs loudly. the longer he spends talking to your sibling the less time he has with you. if he walks away, he’s at risk of your sibling hating him. he’s stumped.

suddenly he turns to your sibling, “sorry l/n, we can continue this discussion later. y/n and i have a date that’s very time sensitive. i apologize”

he then walks to you and grabs your hand before walking off

“y’know my crackhead sibling was just mess with you right? you could’ve just walked away”

“i figured, but that’s still rude”

ugh we stan boy who has manners

“so.. um, may i get a kiss now?”

omg he’s so cute i love him 🥺

you grin and pepper his face with a bunch of kisses, making him blush slightly

tbh you don’t even need to ask, this dude is infatuated w/ you

he’ll run to you any day of the week

but what had happened was.. y’all were on a date and bokuto went to go get ice cream

but that was like 15 mins ago and you’re just sitting on the park bench looking like a fool

and ngl you were a little worried bc bokuto is so easy to distract you’re thinking he fell into a pond or something

so you go to look for him and tbh it doesn’t take long cause cmon,, it’s bokuto

he be loud asf

n e ways, there he is in all his glory playing with a German Shepard who looked like it was trying so hard not to bite him

the owner looked nervous asf but was probably too nervous to say something social anixety be like that

bokuto spots you and waves at you frantically

“hey babe! look at this dog! it’s so cute!”

ugh bless him

you send the owner an apologetic look and turn back to bokuto

“it is cute but i think you’re aggravating it.. i don’t want you to get bitten. let’s go”

“it won’t bite me!” *to dog* “right? you’re too good to bite me, yes you are, yes you are”

*inhales* this stubborn kid, so now you got to think of a new tactic

you suddenly remember that bokuto is affectionate x1 mil

he would never miss a chance to be smothered in love

this was as good a time as any to do this trend and save your bf in the process :))

you whip out your phone, “hey baby? the faster you get to me, the more kisses you get”

when i tell you his head SWIVELED

the dude is an owl confirmed 🙌🏽

literally almost trips trying to get to you, now he’s looking at you like an excited puppy ready for pats

the owner gives you thankful look and leaves

bokuto is still staring at you, waiting for his smooches

so you deliver 😌 you grab his face and kiss all around and place a final kiss on his lips

bokuto looks so happy, like he’s smiling so wide rn

all hail tiktok it rly be saving your stupid boyfriend

my bby 🥺

he loves you so so so so much

hinata will do anything for you yes anything

and the feeling is mutual, but sometimes you cannot comprehend what goes on in that mind if his

like,, you could not, for the life of you, understand why he ran into MOVING TRAFFIC

let me tell you what happened

so you were shopping with your friends (and just to clarify y’all were a strip where there’s a bunch of stores on each block)

you guys were just casual walking and then your friend pointed out that it sounded like someone was calling your name

you looked around and there was your orange fuzzy bouncing up and down on the other side of the street

“BABY! BABE! Y/N! LOOK!”

too cute i swear

you smiled and waved, “hi baby!”

“wait until i get across this street imma kiss you so hard!”

cue your friends gagging

you giggle and decide to reference a tiktok cause why not?

“the faster you get to me, the more kisses you can get!”

b-but he thought you were serious

so yes he ran into the middle of a busy street

you are traumatized, paralyzed with fear if you will, you thought your boyfriend was going to die right in front of you

when he finally reached you, you scolded him mother hen mode activated

“why the hell would you do that hinata?!”

uh oh, you used his last name.. not good

“but you said–”

“i was joking!”

oh. now he’s embarrassed and sad bc you’re mad at him

at least he thought you were until you grabbed him and hugged him tightly, “don’t ever do any dumb shit like that again, okay? you scared me”

“i won’t,, but since i did risk my life, can i get a kiss?”

“NO.”

i feel like y’all have a relationship where you guys can be mean(?) to each other w/o getting offended

so you guys are at your house watching Netflix together and he suddenly gets up and leaves your room

“where are you going?”

“gotta piss”

istg i hate the word “piss” but IK he says that instead of “pee”

n e ways you resume watching the show but your bf’s been gone for like 10 mins

you go to the bathroom and knock on the door, “hey, you good in there? it doesn’t take 10 minutes to pee”

you hear him groan, “fuck off”

and then,, it all clicks, “are you constipated?!”

“FUCK OFF”

now you’re laughing your ass of bc what the fuck

“don’t clog my toilet nasty”

“y/n i swear to god if you don’t leave me alone–”

“what? are you gonna fling your doo doo on me?”

you finally stop teasing him and go back to your room

you send him a text, ‘still constipated? 💩’

‘breaking up w/ you is looking mighty tempting rn 🥴’

‘rude 🤧 but hey, the faster you poop, the more kisses you get’

this dude left you on read

and didn’t return until 20 mins later

“damn i know my bathroom stinks now”

“shut up and give me my kisses”

you raise an eyebrow, “i– you took 20 mins”

“okay.. did you want me to get up mid shit and come to you?”

you don’t why but that shit had you cackling, you reach up and pull him close to you

you give him a couple of pecks and a deep kiss

aww he’s smiling 🥺

“i love you my lil doo doo machine”

he pushed you off your bed

3K notes · View notes

jaskier-than-thou · 3 years

Text

wholly skippable post, not trying to piss anyone off ok, but i got an itch about this.

listen

i get it, i really do. i get why burnt hand whump is so favorite for our bard. i do honestly really get it, and i love burnt hand whump too, but--!

plea under cut, addressed to those who have not watched twn s2 but do read the fics.

i need everyone who's reading all this delicious angst and trauma over a canonical physical injury to actually watch the episodes in question, not JUST read fic

because canonically it just ain't that bad. i'm sorry! it's not! in canon it's not, it's really clear that the worst of the torture was legit psychological. firefucker smacked him around and tied him up, then *started* burning his fingertips. enough to freak an anxiety-fueled musician the fuck out, and enough to hurt *at the time*

i've had worse burns working at starbucks. in fact i had nerve damage from repeated burns working at starbucks. i could still play guitar.

it's been fully healed since like a year after i stopped working there.

rience did not even hold the not-a-lighter under jaskier's fingers long enough to fuck up his fingerprints (i got a match head stuck burning to my thumb when i was three and now my left thumb has a different TYPE of print from all my others. also it was healed in two weeks.)

jaskier's hand is FINE. he was playing the spoons in jail after!! that's impacty! he was not using his wrist. we have seen his hands! he was practically juggling that jasper, he was superduper wringing his wet shirt out, he in no way favored that hand. his hands are physically absolutely fine (and very pretty)

his MIND is not! that was traumatic. that was torture. even if it hadn't been torture it would still have been traumatic for him!

look. i was three. *thirty nine years ago* i burned my thumb playing with matches. i'm STILL afraid of matches. i smoked for 20 years and NEVER used matches. (i am quit for a year and a half now!! :D)

canonically he is gonna be fucked up about it for a WHILE, but his hand was already fine by the time geralt picked him up.

SO MY POINT IS:

whump the bard, WHUMP HIM, write all the fucked up permadamage hand fics and i will read them ALL bc i LOVE them, but darling dears who get your twn content from reading fics, please oh please be aware that that level of damage is not canon.

fuck yes fic is for making shit up and exaggerating shit and exploring what-ifs and all the wonderful stuff people write!!

(i rly love bardburn fics)

(just, it is not actually a big deal physically in canon)

(this is a thing for me because i started with fanfic and gifsets and i KNOW how it is when you haven't canoned yet, and i am seeing really good and prolific writers cheerily talk about it like it's the incontrovertible truth, and it may be in the vast majority of post-twn-s2 fics, but it's not in canon hhhhhhh)

#meta #twn #firefucker #fanon #twn jaskier #whump

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nabrizoya · 4 years

Text

RoW Theories and Things I Want to See

with RoW literally a few weeks away, here’s some theories your way.

this is Really long. like, really very long; mind you.

Nikolai might become a disabled character.

It’s just the vibes. If we can take reference from the Too Clever Fox story, there’s a line that says “...and his [Koja’s] fur never quite sat right the same...”, which might hint at it (mostly bc i don’t want him to die). Also if this is indeed possible, it can be used to address ableism if it exists in this universe, especially since Nikolai is someone in the highest position of power.

Zoya will experiment the shit out of powers.

Idk why the synopsis says that using her powers might be a great deal, which tbf will be because she is truly the most most powerful atm; but Zoya wouldn’t mind taking the step outside of the old norms and bend the orders until they serve their purpose. That’s the entire goal rly.

But all along, she will consciously keep herself mindful to not hunger or discharge her power in a way that may cause harm. She knows the tyranny of the Darkling and the ways he employed. She knows better.

More character depth to Zoya.

Given the excerpts, the book does seem to explore Zoya’s infinite grief. And of course her Suli heritage, which a great part of the fandom consistently wants to shadow what with the talk “white features/ part Ravkan” bs.

But there’s more. I hope RoW will show Zoya’s dilemma (that was alr hinted in KoS) she has with the power she holds, the responsibility she has with having that power + using it in the way that will not be detrimental to her and the country. It will be a great way to portray her self-awareness and doubt and insecurity. She is a good leader, that much is told in text but not shown. There’s character development from the end of R&R until KoS that makes her evolve from a what she was then to the capable and mature 22 year old she is in KoS.

Of course all of their capabilities will come to light in RoW but I think Zoya and the agency to her as a character will play an integral part. More so because Zoya is to be the conduit to reversing the current Grisha orders, which runs in parallel with the fact that she needs to go back, go back to the roots of her Grisha knowledge and roots of her i.e. her unending grief and trauma.

She will need to forgive herself while also dealing with the guilt and anger she may have caused due to her position and power. All of this while dealing with her own complex and contrasting emotions due to her own trauma.

Nikolai is held for treason.

The word of allying with The Darkling may be out and that is enough reason for the entire country to turn against him. The secret about the monster causes issues more than enough already, and this will plunge the country into deep political turmoil and threats to security. So RoW will be more politically driven. That said...

There’s no overt war.

By this I mean that there will not be war on the battlefield, both armies or more charging at each others’ enemies and such. Ravka cannot afford one either. The excerpts have already proved that. There will be skirmishes akin to a war scenario, but a complete battle like the last battle in R&R? Like a final battle? That’s not going to be there, I think… What I’m assuming might happen is that the Fjerda and Ravka will take a possible Cold War route, if it isn’t already the case they’re already dealing with atm.

Ravka’s monarchy will collapse.

It may become a democracy or any other form of public or majority vote. But the monarchy (as well a possible dictatorship, esp with the Darkling returned) will be eliminated. ...Or so I hope, since it has been alluded to in KoS.

But that poses many problems. With no one line for the throne, let alone with a crime so dark like a blot on Nikolai’s skill (of taking the Darkling’s help), it is possible that Ravka will shun it, right alongside being torn about it because Nikolai has been, for the best of his ability, a good King. All of this in line with the Resistance rising in West Ravka.

This ties in with the court matters, especially if I want to hold the further points I make true. The resolution to acquit Nikolai of his charges requires a testification forth a jury which will then make a decision about his motives and future.

Zoya as the Interim Head.

After all of this, Zoya’s point about Ravka not accepting a Grisha Queen will be true after all, because there will be no monarchy to welcome such an arrangement.

But Ravka will need a good and trustworthy leader despite Grisha powers and Zoya is the best person to take care of that. The comment “...becoming a steady leader...” and the “Welcome home, Commander,” were there in KoS for a reason (and this is what I think it will link to).

That being said, there’s more nuance to this than my summary. Zoya is a character of colour. That—in addition to the already existing threats, objections and possible question of capability in the position—ill play into how she will be able to discharge her responsibility. It’s not going to be convenient.

EDIT: taken from a reblog/addition to the og post:

A smoother/more structured transition

Once after the monarchy collapses and a leader must be chosen, it will not be Nikolai. Nor will it be Zoya, though she might serve as an interim head. What I assume might be possible is that someone older is chosen, someone older and loyal and with the proof of knowledge and service to the country. Possibly by majority vote or elected by a council.

Instead of the sudden change, this can be a smoother (if that can even be said about such a major political scenario change) or more structured. I also say this because a. if Nikolai is indeed charged (and later acquitted), firstly his political career will already hold a blot if the word about using the Darkling as a resource is out and secondly, he’s way too young to serve as the leader (by modern standards, sure, but like, the required age will be set while drafting the constitution? currently its 35+).

Instead, the current cast can become representatives (which Zoya would already be, (mostly the head of the) international committee that safeguards the Grisha all over the world) and the Triumvirate will be dissolved. (it should be, tbh)

And hey, b. after all of this, they can and kind of need to take a step back. Nikolai and Zoya will be able to truly explore their relationship, given how Nikolai mentions how he wouldn’t marry unless he’d have had the chance to court someone and marry someone he barely knows nor knows him. For Zoya’s part, she does know Nikolai but surely probably not the extent of openness that a healthy relationship has, and on Nikolai’s part, he admits he barely knows her beyond as a General except for just little things about her.

They could be able to realize and work on their feelings while alongside being involved with the workings of the country and the constitution.

“One day you will overstep and I will not be so forgiving.”

Need I say more? Something that Zoya does will cost her Nikolai’s goodwill and we know Zoya knows her practicality and the extent to which she will unapologetically move if there is threat to the country and its King. She will do what was right and required.

A major part of that line ties in with Magnus Opjer and I think with the confidence in the versatility of her powers, Zoya might as well move w/o any word to the Triumvirate to eliminate the most direct threat to the throne. This will bring splits in Nikolai and Zoya’s relationship.

How this tension between them will be resolved without compromising either of their values, without playing into fandom stereotypes and others must be carefully handled. All of this while showing the best of their dynamicity, practicality and priority as they carefully pull out just those weak sticks of the jenga without putting the whole country into trouble. And with a war in plain sight, they’d know better than pointlessly argue and would rather see how the two of them are wrong. This ordeal will bring out just how condensed power is in the current scenario, imo.

Importance on the way women have shaped history.

Something that KoS has already set precedence for. Zoya being a PoC, Nina taking into account of the sufferings of women she comes across and the consistent ‘Who will remember them?’ will be elaborated on further. As for how it is done and how well it is done, that remains to be seen.

Baghra is alive but maybe not thriving bc she’s stuck in the Ice Court.

They entered a chamber where an old woman sat with her hands chained, flanked by guards. Her eyes were vacant. As each prisoner approached, the woman gripped his or her wrist.

A human amplifier. [...] But the Fjerdans used them for a different purpose – to make sure no Grisha breached their walls without being identified.

Kaz watched Nina approach. He could see her trembling as she held out her arm. The woman clamped her fingers around Nina’s wrist. Her eyelids stuttered briefly. Then she dropped Nina’s hand and waved her along.

Had she known and not cared? Or had the paraffin they’d used to encase Nina’s forearms worked?

- Chapter 22. Kaz; Part 4: Trick to Falling, Six of Crows.

Nina will be the one to free her and together they might wage a war from Djerholm together.

This gets even more interesting because we know the anguish and scorn that Baghra feels for her son at the same time; she understands the wrongness that he used to seek and will continue to. Zoya does take Baghra’s name at the Fold when she mourns and rages over how people forget the destruction and most importantly, forget the women. Baghra could be the symbol of the stag as the art piece depicts, or will be shown with relation to the Darkling’s powers.

As for how she will play into the story, perhaps she will be the one to help reverse and find the roots of the orders, in the sense that changes the perception of the Grisha powers for the Grisha as well as the common folk of Ravka. She is the only other person other than Juris and the Darkling to have the age of eras together, knowing Ilya Morozova, and she will be instrumental in giving Ravka an advantage over Fjerda. Either that or she will help in scrubbing the prejudices of Fjerda slowly away with whatever powers she has left. Or both.

Alina will reappear, but will not contribute to the plot significantly.

Zoya understands that the truth she knows about the Darkling is very minimal not enough to end him for once and for all. It makes sense that she will probably consult Alina for it. So, Malina appearance, possibly at the orphanage. Alina will not directly contribute to this war, but she will play a critical role in defeating the Darkling.

Besides, Alina —and Baghra— are the only ones who know that there has only ever been two Darklings. Zoya did sense, multiple times during KoS, that the Darkling is damn old. Yuri mentions it. And while it is not outright specified, the fact that Zoya thinks that she realizes just how ancient Lizabetha is in context of meeting the Darkling is enough proof for her to seek more information about the age and the older skill of the Darkling.

And I think it goes without saying that I want to hope that the Darkling and Alina will not meet. Pls, she’s had enough.

Lada is the lost, other friend that Zoya refuses to bury.

“She saw her mentor die and her worst enemy resurrected, and she refuses to bury another friend.”

Liliyana is dead, we know. But there’s no other mention of Lada except for the “wondering what happened to the pug faced girl.” Lada is possibly a part of the group of women and a Grisha returning to Ravka from Fjerda, exploited by the parem. She might die being unable to withhold the sheer torment of the parem induction, which will devastate Zoya because Lada was also the closest she’s had to a family with Liliyana.

Either that or Lada is already dead or dies some other way, and Zoya cannot bring herself bear the grief of losing her.

Cameos: Inej and Jesper.

The most likely of the crows to appear in RoW are Inej and Jesper and they’ll play equally important roles in the plotline. Here’s a breakdown of why:

Inej

Inej has taken the responsibility of becoming a slave hunter, and it makes sense for Inej to make an appearance in the book, given that there’s going to be a ship taking the Grisha from Fjerda to Ravka.

The women aboard are vulnerable and require immediate attention, which Inej will immediately zero in on. She will have enough reason to suspect both Leoni and Adrik on the ship, especially when the jurda parem is still a secret. Leoni and Adrik cannot give that information away because they don’t trust Inej (and have no reason to either). Inej won’t trust them either, not until she understands that the reason why the women are being taken to Ravka and for what reasons.

Which gives her excellent reason to step in, try to analyze the situation and help the women accordingly.

Here’s an exciting thought though. Once after the entire misunderstanding is overcome and Inej understands (esp. if Nina is brought into the conversation and security and secrecy of the conversation is ensured), there may be discussion about how the Grisha might find a safer space in Ravka.

Inej’s appearance might also extend to playing a pivotal role in giving Zoya the confidence to seek her heritage and where she hails from, to embrace the part of her past and forgive herself and others for her mistakes.

ALSO,

Grisha finding a safer space in Ravka will mean that Inej can pitch Jesper’s case for him to Zoya. Being the highest authority who takes cares of the responsibilities of the Grisha, Zoya will be the best person to talk about this with.

And so, here comes Jesper.

Jesper

For one, I wish Jesper and Leoni interact, talk and just bond like the iconic siblings they would be. <3 But more than that, Jesper plays very integral to the plot for more reasons.

Jesper’s arc will parallel Zoya’s. Both of them are new to their powers in their own individual sense; Zoya is trying to use her new powers in a way that hasn’t been done before, thereby breaking the Grisha orders of powers and Jesper (assuming he has decided that he might want to learn and embrace his Grisha powers) is learning them afresh.

This journey of them trying to embrace, learn and relearn and reject older norms and experiment really work in tandem.

That will lead us to a further (plot) theories.

Ties with Novyi Zem

As of the KoS end, Ravka has no support from anyone atm. Sure the Kerch will provide funds but Ravka has no real allies. Here’s where Novyi Zem and Jesper come in.

We know Novyi Zem is a new country and also that it is the second safest country for the Grisha in the universe. As of KoS, their agreements are not renewed and they would be since between Kerch and Novyi Zem, Ravka was forced to pick Kerch. Yet Ravka needs their help in acquiring jurda for the antidote.

So here’s the deal: Ravka will get their jurda but at many conditions that the Novyi Zem will impose on Ravka to not let exploitation get in the way.

The conditions imposed could be (these are just some at the top of my head but I hope there are more to ensure the safety and security of the Zemeni, in Novyi Zem and in Ravka too) :

Naval support from Ravka

We know of the Zemeni ships and ofc Nikolai has been hard at work trying to develop plans to use the sea to its fullest advantage. While the news of the izmars’ya isn’t public, Zemeni can place a condition for technical aid from Ravka since Ravka does have the technical knowledge it can dispatch as a condition.

A Grisha School in Novyi Zem

Think about it. Ravka, despite being the safest place for the Grisha, still isn’t entirely safe. Not all Grisha become soldiers in Ravka, they have a choice to abstain but those who are training are still recruited a honed for purpose alike preparing for war, especially the teens and preteens from the time of the Civil War. The training does take a lot of time. Ravka intends to make a home first and then service, but at the moment, while the Grisha are provided safety, it’s not assured in the best sense. Both the facts about a home and service are in precarious positions atm.

TL;DR: Ravka isn’t entirely safe for Grisha therefore the Grisha themselves too are not + Ravka is war torn.

So what happens?

One of the conditions as the next best country that serves as home to the Grisha, Novyi Zem may put forth the prospect of building a Little Palace like institution for the Grisha in Novyi Zem. It sounds morally wrong in the sense that the Grisha there will also be trained for war, but the war will end and soon, the Grisha will not be subject to serve for something but engage in economic activities as anybody else with the progression of time.

All of this won’t happen immediately either; learning their powers, honing it in the way that is unocnventional from what it had been pre-RoW and that transition + the building of the establishment in Novyi Zem and laying foundation for the transnational panel or committee for Grisha that Zoya talks about will all take so much time.

A few Grisha representatives from Novyi Zem can learn at the Little Palace and by the time the construction of the institution is done in Novyi Zem, these Grisha, along with other willing Grisha who either want to return to the country they were born in (like Leoni) or are offered to teach in a different country can do so too.

There will be stricter terms so as to not ensure exploitation and possible colonization in these nations.

Zoya mentions in one of her chapters that eventually there will be a need for the a transnational panel or committee for Grisha. Jesper can Zoya can make it possible, adding in other countries to the panel slowly as the war recedes.

Kaz and Wylan?

Least likely to make an appearance, in my opinion. I think they’ll be mentioned plenty of times or brought up once and given great importance for how they can help in the side plot.

Shu Support:

This is more a hope than an actually theory dfbkdhjadfh but Makhi might have to step down from the throne because Ehri will take the place; either as a Queen (no...) or she might oversee the process of strengthening Shu Han and finding a leader (if she doesn’t want to become one herself).

Ehri is capable, more than capable despite the little we know of her from the last chapter in KoS. All I hope is for an understanding and friendship between Nikolai and Ehri (and the subsequent cancelling of the marriage duH) for this to happen. She has little interest in statecraft but with the time she might spend with Nikolai, she might change her views. Even if not then she still gets the happy ending she deserves with Mayu (which is canon at this point rly).

Emotional Development or Breakdowns

Okay but I really, really, really hope we get to see all the three protagonists lose their shit and deal with their trauma, seek help or trying to stop isolating themselves or anything else they do to cope? Nina, Zoya and Nikolai, all of them cry, all of them get to completely lose it, let themselves be human and healthily cope and learn to rely on the people they trust the most. Like the sheer power and potential to show the myriad of ways to deal with grief, sadness, stress and more and make use of the trio’s backgrounds to show healthy and diverse ways of helping themselves, by letting themselves and others help them is just *combusts* Incredible!

That being said, can I also ask for moments of fear and desolation from the side characters too? Impending war isn’t small business, it will take its toll on people, and all these reactions just cement their fears and what they value the most so. pls. Humanizing them rly.

The Saving Each Other

As much as I mostly kinda hate this trope, there are traces in the KoS that Zoya might be the one to end Nikolai’s affliction. On the other hand, there is talk of Nikolai helping Zoya control her powers which seems counterintuitive when you consider that Zoya knows that there is a line that she must never cross and that she is very, very careful about it and will continue to be.

They can instead be the ones who motivate each other in times of distress as they always do (as shown with how Nikolai tries to gain control over his monster during the burning thorn ritual in KoS, allowing himself the vulnerability but also knowing that giving up will be unforgivable to both himself and Zoya as well) but I seriously do not wish for each other to be the ones directly ending one another's misery. Or perhaps this is just a fear imo that Leigh wouldn’t even take the route of (in which case, thank fuck).

Stab Stab Stab

Zoya gets the chance to kill the Darkling with the rest of her friends. After all, Darkling does call them all his old friends. Just Julius Caeser him all the way and put a bow tie on the book. *chef’s kiss* Everybody deserves a second chance... at ending a tyrant when it fails the first time.

So far, this is it. Rule of Wolves is in less than a few weeks and im- asdfghjkl. not Ready. i’m more Worried than Ready.

216 notes · View notes

i8jisoo · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader

hyunjin x reader | part four of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff

↬ warnings; pregnancy, lots of cursing (i have a streak), birth, n kkami bein a meanie

↬ notes; ok this might be my fav in the series | 1.5k wc

u and hyunjin actually were broken up when u found out about the pregnancy

u waited (stalled fuck off) until five months since u really didnt know what to do with the news

u kinda feel like ur insane, playing your ex-boyfriends music constantly and watching interviews of him but it kept u company and gave u a reminder that u still needed to tell him

u got this rly cute popped out bump, just rly kinda like those movies but u know its gonna get bigger and grow to have stretch marks

one day ur just sitting on the sofa of your apartment n the next thing u know ur door is being opened and hyunjin is barging in

ofc ur in a sports bras and a pair of basketball shorts cause they r comfortable and shirts r overrated

ur there with set out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate, as well as peppermint sticks on the side just eating them together

ur in the middle of eating a smore u had put together

u swallow ur smore slowly, sucking on ur fingertips n just staring at him

“oh my fucking god- and it’s true?”

ur honestly so confused until u remember u dont have on a shirt n ur bump is showing

ur standing up in a millisecond, hyunjin getting more upset by the second just looking at u

“why— how? how could you just not tell me?”

baby boy has those angry tears and the strained voice hes just so upset and the guilt is setting in for u

“i’m five and a half months.”

fuck hormones cause next thing u know ur crying and u cant do anything to make it stop

u guys really can’t be mad at each-other, ur relationship was filled with nothing but kindness and it ended only because u two felt it was going no where

ofc u two argued about it and in the end hyunjin was the one who walked out

“we can try again. you can move back in right? we can stay together and put back the pieces.”

u agreed n by the next morning he was there to help u pack ur things up n take them back to his place

he ends up seeing the box of baby stuff, with unopened bottle packages and sonograms, as well as a disc that was labelled as your 3D ultrasound

u find him just sitting there, staring at the black and white sonogram with tears freely falling down his cheeks

he doesn't even notice u next to him until ur thumb swipes the tear away from his cheek

u two just smile at each-other, his arm wrapping around u n pulling u in to his side

“that’s our baby?” he asks, not removing his eyes from the little white blob that barely was the size of a jaw breaker n u just whispered, “yea, it is.”

ur relationship doesn’t exactly get back into what it was at first,,

ur both nervous and cautious around each other

at first he insists he can just sleep on the couch so u can take his bed but u insist u both can sleep together

hyunjin doesn’t mean to but he somehow always winds up with his arm around u n ur bump every morning

he will talk to the bump n tell them how they r gonna have the best mommy n daddy 🥺

“did u know ur mommy is one of my favorite people to be with? i know ur gonna hear the story one day of how we became parents but i have always loved her, even when we weren’t together i loved your mommy. i hope one day you will love someone as much as i love your mommy, i hope you get your mommy’s personality bub.”

ur fake sleeping wbk but u dont move so u can let him talk

around eight months u two are way more comfortable n are getting closer

he lets u borrow his clothes because u used to do that even when u weren’t pregnant and he figured they were more comfortable & better looking than ur maternity outfits 😣

he rly goes the whole nine yards, buying anything u can think of for the baby n he’ll sometimes wake u up from ur sleep (if he’s rly excited) just so he can show u what he bought

hyunjin is in love with u and kkami cuddling together

also when ur due date got closer u both def went out for walks with kkami or played in the dog park with kkami

(u couldn’t really be as active as hyunjin but it was fine with u just watching)

something within hyunjin changes n he just gets so shy n flustered around u ^.^

he’s crushing so hard on u and u can guess he is but then again u two were just living together for the pregnancy

it’s probably three in the morning n hyunjin had just came home

ofc u were crying

a rly cute dog ad was playing with a baby in it as well :(

u explain n hiccup while doing so

hes so s o f t at this moment

he presses a soft kiss to ur lips n ur like wow thats um—

he doesn’t even care how shocked u r this man goes back in for more kisses

“i want you, i wanna be a real family. i wanna one day marry you, have more babies or get other dogs, that’s all i’ve ever wanted since the day we met.”

enywayz u two r dating,, a g a i n

spooning half of the time during ur last few weeks of pregnancy, but the boys come over frequently n for some reason jeongin is always bringing presents?? its cute but u guys RLY didn’t need anymore toys for the baby

u guys r just cuddling n he’s got one hand on ur bump before ur like

“ow,, fuck that hurt.”

“hey don’t swear around the baby!”

u just suppose it’s a hard kick since the baby had been active a lot recently n the pains had been occurring often

kkami is very cuddly today n he’s giving u kisses

hyunjin lowkey jealous cause kkami doesn’t ever give him kisses like that ⸜( ⌓̈ )⸝

yall ever seen the thing where dogs know pregnant people the best n they can like SENSE something goin on??

well kkami was on it

baby kkami is sniffing u n just restless in ur lap n its a lil weird cause kkami is ALWAYS sleeping or sitting still cause kkami has turned as lazy as u n hyunjin

u have this feeling but instead u just tell hyunjin u gotta pee :P

newsflash: u didnt n as soon as u got up, boom, theres ur water breaking and running down ur leg

“it feels gross.”

ur literally whining about ur pants while a baby is coming out of ur ... hooha 😳 n hyunjin is freaking out

he’s rushing around the rooms n making sure everything is in the bag and nothing gets left behind

last thing on his mind is changing ur clothes

though he does, putting u in his baggy sweatshirt and a pair of his shorts

hes freaking out lets be honest the thought of u giving birth is fuckin scary

hyunjin is so out of it and spaced out while ur cool n talking normally with pauses everytime theres a contraction

“aish, why are you so worried? i’m the one that should be worried!!”

ur not cool after an u hit the four hours in labor mark

u do not want to be t o u c h e d

touching u is off limits ur so sweaty n ur body feels like its crumbling u cannot deal with someone holding ur hand or holding u

hyunjin just sits there

hes kinda in a different realm while he stares at the clock on the wall

hes so ready to meet the baby but apparently ur body was exactly 4 centimetres not ready :(

hes just trying to distract u by talking with the boys n his other friends, all of the face timing to talk to the parents to be 🥺

yall r wrapping up a call with jeongin when u have the built up pressure feeling again

he doesn’t even explain to jeongin hes so quickly to hang up n ask u whats wrong

“i— it feels like i have to push.”

he’s already pressing the pretty lil white button on ur bed for the nurses n doctors

they confirm that u indeed r ready to push and that the baby is in position

hyunjin trying to take a peek WHAT A WEIRDO

yall hearing ur baby has a head full of hair and u just give hyunjin this look

like WTF no wonder why u had so much heartburn its because of ur fuckin rapunzel baby daddy

here comes the cries, loud n u just heard the quietest sob from beside u which was hyunjin

“it’s a baby boy, congrats!!”

his lil puppy baby boy 🥺

he had a lil pout like his daddy n his brown locks on top of his head

it was kinda creepy how similar they looked

anyways u dont care ur lil boy is p e r f e c t and nobody could dare tell yall different

u would disagree anyways because thats ur lil pouty baby boy n hes so cute 🥺

“we got a pretty good break-up story right? one for the books.”

he’s got baby boy in his arms bundled up but that doesn’t stop u from smacking his arm before kissing him quickly

“yea, we do.”

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

i’m gonna try out my luck for the renji bday thing😭

- renji being a mediator between rukia and ichika(idk why i feel like rukia and ichika would get into rly dumb arguments and just fight like they’re the same age)

- renji and ichika get a tattoo

- jealous rukia(of course)

- anything that takes place in inuzuri, i loved your ‘dumb teens stealing kisses’ snippet so much 😭

- more of the tattoo artist renji falls for a client AU

I hope you’ll forgive me for cheating a bit, but when I saw this, I said, “what if I just gave you more of the dumb teens stealing kisses” fic? because honestly, it’s just sitting here.

For people who don’t obsessively follow my incoherent ramblings about my own WIPs, this is an excerpt for i can’t believe i found you in that town, a story that takes place during Renji and Rukia’s last year in Inuzuri. Two out of their three friends have passed away, their powers are growing steadily stronger, and they are starting to face the fact that they aren’t children anymore. I have two more parts of Heart is a Muscle to get through first, so I never work on it, but it is very close to my heart.

PS: This is not going on ao3 at this time, because I really do intend to finish it eventually, so consider this a Tumblr exclusive.

❄ ❄ ❄

In a strange confluence, all three of them have found gainful employment at the same time.

Renji is guarding crates. He does not ask what is in the crates. He does not want to know what is in the crates. He stands next to the crates and his size deters most people. Occasionally, he is called upon to punch someone in the face. It’s good work.

Fujimaru got him this gig, actually. Mameji was good with numbers and he taught Fujimaru a lot, and now Fujimaru has a gig keeping the books for the guys who own the crates. That seems like pretty good work to Renji, too. Fujimaru says he wishes it involved more punching people. Renji wishes his job involved punching fewer people. Everyone’s got complaints.

Rukia has found work in a shop. This is charming and hilarious to both boys. It’s a pawn shop that paradoxically seems to buy about three times as much junk as it sells. It’s obvious that the only reason the owner hired Rukia is because the clientele likes to come in and look at her, but the fact is, she’s an amazing bargainer, and she’s making him a ton of change.

Renji stops in one late afternoon when his own shift is over, and watches her sell a man a knife that looks like it will break if he looks at it funny. She offers to throw in a shitty ball of twine and the man agrees to pay what is easily four times what the knife is worth, and leaves smiling. Amazing.

The shop owner eyes Renji warily. Renji never starts trouble, and he’s even stopped it once or twice, but at the same time, his presence is cramping the appeal of the pretty shopgirl.

“I’m off,” Rukia tells her boss.

“See y’tomorrow,” the seedy man grumbles.

“You don’t get paid every day?” Renji asks Rukia loudly. “I get paid at the end of every shift.”

“She gets paid at the end of the week,” the shopkeeper grouses.

Renji flexes one arm experimentally, admiring his own bicep. “It’s nice getting paid every day. Makes you want to come back the next day, y’know.”

“She comes back every day so she can get paid at the end of the week.”

Rukia’s eyes dart between them.

“Ah, you must be a great boss, very trustworthy,” Renji comments, stretching his back. “Although gettin’ paid every day is a nice way to show trust, too. Hey, Ru, you wanna stop at Takahashi’s on the way home? I heard they got in some dried mackerel and I,” he winks at Rukia’s boss, “got paid today.”

“Pfft,” Rukia huffs, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s a scam. We need rice, though, and more water.”

“Hey, girl,” Rukia’s boss spits out. “You had a good shift! Here’s your pay for today, as a reward for doing so well. Come back tomorrow, okay?”

“Of course,” Rukia agrees, taking the coins with a sly smile.

As they head out of town, she jabs him in the ribs with her elbows. “You’re so obvious.”

“Got you paid, didn’t I?”

“You did, thank you. He hates you, you know.”

Renji sighs dramatically. “How can I live with myself?”

Rukia snorts. “He’s gross, I hate him. I hate that whole job. Smiling at people. Acting kind to horrible people. It’s so fake. I don’t know why you like working so much, I’d rather just steal.”

“I’ve seen you working, what you do is not much different from stealing.” Renji rubs his hands together. It’s getting cold, especially with the sun setting. “I appreciate the effort, though. I mean, we do. Me and Fujimaru. I like this. Having money, that is. It’s nice.”

Rukia regards him out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you? Do you appreciate it?”

Renji frowns. “Yeah, of course I do. I know you don’t like it.”

Rukia stops walking and turns to him. “C’mere.” She gestures toward herself and makes the pointing motion she does when she wants him to bend down to her level. Even though this results in a cuff to the back of his head more often than not, Renji obeys. “If you really appreciate it, I think you should do something nice for me.”

Renji should know by now to be wary of such an ominous statement, but he falls for it anyway. “Sure. Name it.”

“I want to kiss you again.”

Renji tugs at his ponytail. “Again? Really?”

It was probably six years between the first and second time she had wanted to kiss him, but the second time had only been a few months ago, last spring, after he broke his arm saving her from a large, angry man she had attempted to pickpocket.

“You said you were open to the idea,” Rukia scowled.

“I...did,” Renji stammered. To be fair, he had been in immense pain at the time and probably would have agreed to just about anything. He could have used that as an excuse. It seemed like Rukia was thinking the same, he could tell she was already getting herself wound up to be hurt at his rejection. That stung a little, the idea that she expected so little of him. “No problem. Anything for you. Go for it.” He bent his knees a little deeper and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You gotta relax a little, man, it’s not a punch in the nards,” Rukia scolded, grabbing ahold of his ears and laying one on him.

Renji didn’t fantasize about kissing girls. He liked girls well enough, but he liked guys more. There was one exception to that rule, and that was Rukia. He liked her more than anyone. It wasn’t right to fantasize about Rukia, though, in his opinion, because he lived with her and it wasn’t respectful and also… also, if he spent too much time thinking about things like kissing her, he might want to do it. So, he avoided the slippery slope of girls in general, and restricted his spicy kissing fantasies to the lean, knife-eyed Rukongai punks that hung out on street corners and had really sexy ways of saying “heeeeeey.” Renji was perpetually working on his “heeeeeeys.”

But Rukia was kissing him now, and it seemed equally disrespectful to pretend she wasn’t. Her lips were soft against his, and curious. Her fingers relaxed their painful grip on his ears and snuck around to rest on the back of his neck. She must have been keeping her hands in her sleeves, because they were warm, and they felt so good and this was good, this was so, so good and it occurred to Renji that maybe he was meant to kiss her back, she had never mentioned anything about--

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Abarai?” Rukia was saying.

It was over.

Renji blew air out his cheeks. “Naw, it was fine. Ah, did you, uh… was it everything you hoped and dreamed?”

“It was okay,” she shrugged, but her eyes twinkled. She started walking again and Renji had to do a little skip and a jump to catch up. “Fujimaru’s probably home already. How come he didn’t come with you to pick me up?”

“Oh, there were extra crates today, so he’s working late. But we can have the rice ready and surprise him!”

“Mm, yes, that sounds nice,” Rukia agreed. She hummed a little as she walked. “Hey, Renji?”

“Yeah?”

“Back at the shop-- did you call me Ru? What was that?”

Renji made a face. “I dunno. I thought it was cute.” You’re cute, his brain added, and suddenly, he couldn’t unsee it. She was unbearably cute, wrapped up in her shawl, that little piece of hair hanging between her eyes, those beautiful eyes. “If you don’t like it, I’ll--”

“You’ve known me for nine years and you decide, just now, to give me a nickname?”

He shrugged. “Things can change, right? Even out here in the ass end of Rukongai?”

She regarded him for a moment. “It is cute. I will allow it, but only from you, and don’t do it around gross people like my greasy boss.”

“Yeah, no prob,” he agreed, squeezing his hands under his armpits. He had a bad feeling that they were in for a brutal winter this year.

“Hey!” Rukia said, and he realized she was holding out his hand to him. Gingerly, he took it, hoping she wouldn’t mind his own cold fingers. She didn’t seem to.

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #i was strongly tempted to do another chapter of the tattoo artist au on top of this #except that the next chapter doesn't even have renji in it #it has rukia and orihime TALKING ABOUT renji if that counts for anything #and then i ran out of time #i know i have posted an excerpt of this excerpt before i am sorry i just love it TOO MUCH

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hatercube · 4 years

Text

sunnflower hot take >:)

okay, okay so. i know that sunnflower is a rly popular OMORI pairing, and don't get me wrong, i like it, too,,,, HOWEVER. here is a post-good ending headcanon that will smash all of ur sunnflower dreams into a million bits and pieces <3

[edit: just want to let anyone else who sees this post that it is 10000% okay to ship sunflower, and this whole post is purely a headcanon that’s been stewing in my brain since last month, and it is only my interpretation and my opinion !]

TW // suicide, anxiety, mental institutions, childhood trauma

Sunny and Basil *cannot* see each other

i have been up for 24 hours and don't know if anything i'm about to say will make sense, so bear with me. it's not uncommon for people who shared trauma to have intense reactions that manifest in their relationships with each other. some people become hyper-attached to each other after the traumatic event, while some people are the exact opposite, and if these people come into contact with each other, it can be extremely detrimental to their mental healths. the latter is how i see basil and sunny (especially basil).

throughout the game, a lot of their interactions come off as stiff and awkward not only because they haven't spoken in years, but also because basil is too emotionally dysregulated to keep up a conversation. he's stuttering, he's sweating--WE ALL SAW HIM. he is an anxious. wreck, and this anxiety directly stems from mari's death and sunny's presence. especially after kel breaks the news that sunny's moving away, we can see that any major changes sunny makes are going to heavily affect basil on a psychological level. this isn't just a problem with basil clinging to the last bit of familiarity in his life, but it would also affect sunny's personal growth if these patterns were to be perpetuated in any future relationship between the two, platonic or romantic. imagine trying to move on from the most traumatic experience of your life, and an old friend you haven't talked to in years, begs you to stay. it isn't healthy for either of them.

FURTHERMORE, in regards to the secret true ending with the special SunnFlower cutscene, i think that it's okay to say that these two are beginning the healing process and are working towards finding peace in their lives separately. this ending doesn't imply really anything other than a mutual understanding that everything they'd been holding onto for years had finally been released, and that they were now beginning their journey of recovery.

i don't think they talk for a long time after the good ending--i don't think they really want to. for sunny, basil is a painful reminder of not only the death of his sister, but also the incident that landed him in the hospital. you don't just automatically make amends with the person that gouged your eye out during a psychotic episode. i think that sunny understands and forgives, but i do not think he feels safe.

for basil, on the other hand, sunny is a reminder of the terrible thing he did to mari's body and also his abandonment issues he got from his absent parents. in my opinion, being the person who strung up your best friend's dead sister into a tree to make it look like a su*cide is worse than being the one who pushed her down the stairs. you can push someone on accident, but you definitely can't hang someone on accident. i imagine there's a lot of guilt in there mixed with a whole lot of other childhood trauma from his neglectful parents that is a cocktail for mental instability. (also would like to point out that basil having the idea to hang her up in the first place is an early sign of extreme mental illness,, that isn't normal and also hints at some kind of emotional codependency or unhealthy attachment he has to sunny.) the fact that basil was pushed so far that he had a psychotic episode which resulting in him stabbing his friend--which by the way was triggered by sunny's mere presence, not an immediate physical threat of any kind--is so telling of his mental state, and i honestly believe that best thing for him would be hospitalization. for a while. if he cannot be safe to himself and others, then he needs to begin his recovery in a rehabilitation center, and who knows when it would be safe for him to be discharged.

to put that last bit in perspective, i've been hospitalized before due to a pretty half ass attempt that i didn't follow through with because i was drunk out of my mind and that landed me five days. five days, and i didn't even do anything, like no physical harm came to me. also, during my time there, i was really adamant about how i was feeling better and said i had reduced SI which is also how i got out of there in that small amount of time. i have no idea how much time someone like basil would have to spend in an institution, but it would probably be more than a few weeks.

if seeing sunny was the final trigger that led up to basil's psychotic episode, then it is completely possible that seeing sunny would only bring up similar dysregulation problems in the future, even after he's well on his way to full recovery.

SO TL;DR

1. basil stakes his emotions too heavily on sunny,

2. for sunny, basil reminds him of his sister's death and incident that brought him to the hospital, leading him to feel unsafe around basil,

3. for basil, sunny reminds him of the guilt in shame of what he did to mari's body (which i think we can all universally agree is much worse than accidentally pushing her down the stairs),

4. sunny's presence pushed basil to a point where he was not safe to himself or others in an extreme manner that borders homicidal,

5. BASICALLY WHAT IM SAYING IS THAT THEY TRIGGER EACH OTHER AND WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE HANGING OUT FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME BC OF THE PTSD AND POSSIBLE PSYCHOSIS

so yeah. there it is. if you made it this far, im so sorry.

#omori #sunnflower #omori sunny #omori basil #omori sunflower #omori headcanons #omori spoilers #omori game #omori anaylsis

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

crush culture • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: fic where Richie and reader have been best friends since kindergarten, and have always had feelings for eachother secretly, until one day richie gets a girlfriend (just to take his mind off her), and the reader gets jealous and distances herself from him? he obviously gets upset by this- and things go on from there? sorry if it’s too specific! love u!

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of death, fighting, mentions of an abusive relationship, intentionally pissing off richie, a bit of angst, richie is an oblivious idiot, but reader is MUCH more of an idiot, like dude lmao, but i think that’s it, unedited tho

this isn’t rly based off crush culture, but i took the title from conan gray’s song :)

[losers + reader are 18+ in this!!!]

3.8k words L O L :))

♡

you swear to god, you’re getting sick. that’s what this was, for sure.

it started about a month ago, when you started to get headaches and terrible hollow feelings in your stomach. it happened everywhere - in the line for coffee, in class, driving home from school, at the dinner table. but it got a hundred times worse at night and then seemed to triple in force every morning when you woke.

and it all came at you some time after richie announced he had a new girlfriend.

you were really sick the few days after that, enough that you stayed home from school and laid in bed, the pit in your stomach sinking. it didnt take long for you to realize how bad richie’s girlfriend was - she treated him like a dog, like he embarrassed her - and he didn’t even seem to mind. he just brushed off every offhand comment, rolled his eyes with a grin when she told him she didn’t want to see his friends or when she told him to stop talking.

he still seemed to like her, anyways. and that thought made your stomach convulse.

so then you had to distance yourself from richie because it hurt you to see him with her. it hurt you to see him with someone who didn’t treat him like the incredible person he was.

so yeah.

you say you’re sick, but you know that’s not really true. it’s easier than accepting reality at this point, though, so you spew this nonsense (to yourself, mostly) in order to justify ignoring your best friend of nearly a decade because christ, he is becoming unbearable.

like the other day, at lunch while you were all sitting in the courtyard. it was your first time eating with them again after almost a week and a half, as you’d been eating alone in your car recently to avoid richie. “rich, why’d you take off the nail polish?” bev asked, out of the blue, sounding disappointed as she grabbed his free hand and examined it.

he blew smoke out of his mouth slowly and you had forced yourself to look away, the sight of richie doing nearly anything these days being pretty dangerous for you. it also made you sigh a bit - you knew he only smoked at lunch now, since his girlfriend hated it.

“don’t want my paws to be prettier than y/n’s when we hold hands.” he had joked, wagging an eyebrow at you. you’d shook your head and looked to the ground in lew of a real response, just as you had been doing a lot recently.

you'd missed richie’s frown at your reaction, but you did catch his next statement as it was added on, “nah, actually it’s because the ol’ G-F didn’t like it. thought it looked too girly.”

you, stan, bev, and mike all stopped chewing to look at richie, in varying stages of bewilderment. you'd cleared your throat quickly but decided against speaking up just as richie’s phone started to ring. he’d answered it nearly immediately, the enthusiasm of which made you feel like you’re going to be sick again - because richie never answers your calls until the last possible minute.

god, jealousy is a fucking disease.

“hey, sugar.” he had purred suavely into the phone and for some reason, hearing him call someone else sugar had you abruptly rising, gathering your things and nearly running off to put as much distance between you and four-eyes as you possibly could, because you’re not sure how much more you could take.

after that, you were absolutely sure it was just pure denial on your part.

as far as you could tell, richie wasn't noticing too much. he still phoned your house every day, just to be met with your mother telling him you 'weren't available,' and then he'd call your own phone, which you'd let buzz itself into a dark hole on your bedside table while you stared at it solemnly, guilt heavy on your mind as he left voicemail after voicemail.

he doesn't deserve it, you think as you open the doors to the school library, backpack on your shoulders. but you can't help it. you're not his girlfriend, and you're not mature enough to accept that with any ounce of elegance so instead you just ignore him all together. at least you're self-aware, right? that ought to count for something.

you shake your head just as a voice catches your attention, “well look who decided to show up!”

richie's sitting at the usual study table in the very back corner of the library, a spot tucked away by rows upon rows of dusty books and an alcove of couches. bill sits at the head of the table, scribbling his chicken scratch handwriting onto graph paper, mike next to richie with a textbook spread out flat. across from mike is stan, writing out his statistics work.

all three of them wave at you before going back to their work, whereas richie just watches you expectantly. his feet are kicked up on the table, textbook balanced on his lap as he hovers on two leg chairs. his smile is as blinding as always, a dimple faint on his left cheek and full eyebrows raised in jest. his curls frame his face perfectly and you want to scream.

but you take your seat next to stan with a tight lipped smile, not really sure how to respond to richie. are you even allowed to be flirty with him like you used to? he still does it on the rare occasions when you do see each other - but that itself is the issue, you figure. his flirting is just a joke, a tiff from one friend to another. but you can't see him as just a friend, and that’s unfair to him.

so you stay quiet, which makes it infinitely more awkward.

richie clears his throat and you pull out your work with an awkward expression, the minutes slowly churning by in what has to be the quietest hangout with the Losers yet.

you feel the tension building in your body and in the air, and you're not sure what's wrong with you or why you have so much resentment towards richie in this moment, because he's not done one single thing to offend anyone in the last ten minutes.

then richie's phone rings suddenly and mike jumps a bit as he's startled out of the passage he's reading. you all look down to richie's screen, where his girlfriend's name blares up at you and all you can feel is white hot jealousy coursing through your body.

richie looks half way exhausted and annoyed at the call, which you find extremely odd and out of character, not to mention persistently frustrating.

as you all stare at the phone, the tension in the room stretches tighter and tighter, like a rubber band and you can't breathe -

"uh, why is she calling you?" mike asks, as if this was something that was forbidden or shocking in any way, and for some reason, that is finally it.

the rubber band snaps.

"how could you forget, mike? they're in love!" you say with mock enthusiasm.

bill shoots you an alarmed look that you probably should read into or at least consider for a moment, but instead you're looking directly at richie, as if challenging him.

he blinks at you and clenches his jaw, "she and i haven't really been... talking recently." richie says lightly, shooting a glance to mike.

“well then maybe you’re just not right for each other.” you quip, the blood boiling in your veins. richie's eyes snap to you and you see the fire behind them as he suddenly breaks.

“sorry, did i miss the divine intervention when god floated down on a cloud of marshmallows and deemed you expert in relationships?” he says abruptly, making your eyes widen at his outburst. he continues, “because last time i checked, you’re a bit of a failure in that department. so i don't need some jealous, disappearing-act wannabe criticizing my life when she's barely even in it.” he seethes. it’s near quiet in the library anyways, but his words seem to silence the entire town.

with a quick glance to your right, stan and bill sharing an uncomfortable look, and mike is staring down intently at his work with wide eyes.

you want to die.

does richie know? has he known this whole time that you're just deeply, painfully head over heels for him?

"i'm so sick of your bullshit. maybe you're jealous because you want what i had, but you’re being really fucking rude."

you nearly cry. or scream.

“criticism doesnt equal jealousy, okay?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting even opening your mouth. you're so intent on covering for yourself, you don't even take into account the phrasing he'd used when referring to his girlfriend, instead fighting with richie in order to keep your secret from him.

this is not how you’d intended today to go. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed in a way that almost makes you keel over in sadness, the guilt of the situation falling too heavily on your shoulders and crushing you.

it’s tranquilizing to see him like this - he's fuming, but he's also got bright, glistening eyes which you think may be filling up with tears.

“i didn’t really ask for your input, though.” he mutters, cheeks reddening as tears definitely well in his eyes behind his lenses. “you can’t just ignore me at your every whim just to come right back and tell me what's good for me.”

you blink, shaking your head quickly, deciding to back off. now is not the time to fight, especially when you know he’s right. you had no idea it was hurting him like this. "richie, i... i just wanted-" you gape at him, extremely embarrassed.

“-i don’t fucking care what you wanted, y/n.” richie says sharply, causing you to shut your mouth so quick your jaw clicks in the silence. clearly, even the other boys are perturbed by richie’s actions and everyone’s staring down in silence at their homework.

it’s quiet like that for a few minutes, the tension so thick that you’d need a jackhammer just to chip away at it. but stan rummages through his bag suddenly, pulling out two painkillers and dry swallowing them. you don't look at anyone else, your stomach hollow and your heart thumping so hard in your chest you think you may explode.

"d-do you have a headache?" bill asks, looking at stan with concern. the sudden voice causes you to perk up, head flowing with humiliation at the fight you and richie had just had in front of your friends.

“yeah, but it’s not that bad. i guess i’m used to it.” stan says, pen between his teeth.

“just because you’re used to something doesn’t make it any less unhealthy for you.” you say louder than necessary, your mouth suddenly deciding to speak without consulting your brain.

the glare of pure frustration that richie throws you pierces your lungs and suddenly makes you feel lightheaded.

your pettiness doesn’t go unresponsive, of course, and mike sighs into his hands, standing up to gather his things. "alright. i can't study when you two are like this. i'll see you guys later."

richie sighs quietly and bill and stan mumble good-bye's. the library goes back to quiet for maybe three more minutes, until you see stanley start to fidget like he usually does when he's anxious. and then you notice it after a few seconds, too.

richie won't stop tapping his foot on the desk.

for everyone's sake, you try to ignore it, because you know richie can't help his compulsions - especially when he's upset (which, your mind painfully reminds you, is all your fault).

but it's driving you crazy.

“-if you keep doing that i’ll throw you out that fucking window rich, i swear.” stan mutters not unkindly, his eyes rolling to meet richie with a concerned gaze as richie stares out the window.

you raise your eyebrows, “what’re you even looking at?” you ask, trying to mend a bit of the open, festering wound you’d created in you and richie’s friendship.

without looking at you, richie shrugs. “checking to see how high the drop is. may be worth it to have schnoz just toss me down. it would certainly do you a favor right? gettin ol’ trashmouth gone for good.”

what was he saying? you look at him, scandalized. stan and bill don’t even say anything about the offensive nickname as you gape at richie. "what the fuck?" is all your brilliant mind can think.

"what, you can dish it but you can't take it?" richie says sharply. he shakes his head, looking upset. "i'm tired of trying to be friends with a fucking brick wall."

then he's gathering his one notebook and swiftly exiting your alcove in the library in a wind of cigarettes and cologne.

you blink, his words sinking in and making you sigh shakily. your stomach feels hollow as you remember the expression of glee on his face when you'd walked into the library, and how completely different and broken he'd looked as he'd left. you think you're going to cry.

“every minute that you don't follow him digs yourself deeper into this grave, you know.” stan says, giving you a stern but encouraging look.

you let out a shaky sigh and scramble to grab your bag, tripping over your feet as you run out of the library, flying down the staircase faster than you've ever gone and making it to your lifelong best friend just as he reaches his car in the parking lot.

"-a brick wall?" you ask, out of breath. you see richie hold back an eye roll, his arms crossing over each other as he serves you a look of discomposure.

he shrugs helplessly, looking as if he's at his wit's end.

"what do you want me to say, y/n? you've been avoiding me for weeks. i know i'm annoying and obnoxious and whatever, but i'm not blind." he says, making you swallow as guilt pangs through your chest. you have been so fucking selfish, haven't you?

it hurts to hear him say that about himself.

he sniffles a bit, sounding choked up as he goes on, "i've had a rough couple of days - weeks, even. but every time i'm near, it's like you've had more than enough, and you just leave. am i that repulsive? why do you suddenly hate me?" he asks, looking desperate as his eyes rim red, filling with tears again.

“what did i do?” his voice cracks as he whispers the sentence and your heart breaks in two.

your own vision goes glassy as he continues, "-i've needed you, y/n/n. i'm lost, i'm seriously not okay and you just don't care at all."

you're stunned for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently as your mind races to rush something out, anything,because you aren't sure you can bear to see richie look at you like this for one more second. but your silence comes off wrong to richie, and tears slip out of his eyes.

“don’t you love me?” he asks, voice hoarse and cutting right through you, deeper than any knife ever could. "don't you want me to be happy?" he adds and you take a shaky breath, looking helplessly at him, where you're met with nothing but glassy eyes and tear trails. your heart is slamming in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you can't breathe.

"a-are you?" you ask, trying to keep your tone even although it comes out just as vulnerable as you feel. “h-happy. with her?”

richie freezes at your words, mouth slightly open and you watch a single tear course over his high cheekbones and down to his bottom lip as it shakes faintly. you curse yourself for the longing to feel those very lips against yours.

"i was." he whispers, voice shaking as he rubs his face with his hand under his glasses, the moisture of his fallen tears clinging from his long dark lashes onto his slender, shaking fingers. "and then - and then i lost you. and y'know, i got my girlfriend so i could distract myself, but she made me feel like absolute shit all the time and so i went and broke up with her, but -" he hiccups through his tears and you blink, biting your lip as tears cascade down your cheek in wet trails.

they broke up?

he broke up with her, and he's going through this breakup and trying to better himself after she tore him down and you've just been ignoring him - he thinks you don't care about him, that you don't love him. you start to cry harder.

"-i thought she'd distract me from you. i-i'm sorry." he says, his voice muffled by his hands as they cover up his angelic face, his shoulders shaking as more tears fall. "i'm so sorry."he repeats.

you see double for a second, completely shocked by his words as the breath leaves your lungs. he tried to distract himself from you... and he’s so hurt because of what you did.

but finally, for the first time this whole damn day, you find the right words. "i-no, richie, i'm sorry, please - fuck." you break, letting out a sob as you rub your eyes furiously in search of any relief from the guilt ripping you in two. "i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm so sorry, i can't believe i did this, i didn't want to hurt you, i'm just so selfish." you babble, his sniffles making you open your eyes.

he looks so alone and so vulnerable as he hugs his arms around himself in search of comfort, tears still falling from his bright eyes and down his rosy cheeks.

he looks devastatingly beautiful in the golden sunlight of the afternoon, a breeze ruffling his curls lightly. "just please, i can't - i can't deal with you hating me. please, please, please."

he's pleading with you and you think you may be sick from the guilt and sadness that envelopes you, so you spring forward and wrap your arms tightly around him. the force of your body pushes him against the side of his car and the way he clings back to you like you're the last thing holding him to earth just makes you cry even harder.

"i don't hate you, richie. i love you, i love you too much." you say, your body shaking as he just holds you tighter against him. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean any of it. you're right. i was just jealous... i'm so sorry. i was so jealous of her, i couldn't see you be with her." you mumble. "i'm so sorry."

richie pulls you back gently at your words, his eyes wide and wondering as you look at each other. "what?" he asks so innocently, his eyelashes wet and dark and his lips parted.

you can count the freckles on his nose and cheeks, you're so close. you can feel his shuddering breath against your face as he huffs in a breath. your hands hold onto his shoulders and you decide to fuck it, you just have to tell him how sorry you are, to explain yourself.

"richie, i'm in love with you. and - and when you and her got together, it hurt so much, and i didn't want to deal with the fact that i couldn't have you, so i just ignored you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry." you say it quickly and in one breath, looking down at your shoes and how they point straight towards his.

"you're in... love with me?" he says weakly, sounding hopeful as you finally look back into his eyes guiltily.

you laugh wetly, "of course i am, richie. how could i not fall head over heels for everything about you?"

he tears up again at your words, but this time it's accompanied by a beautiful smile and a light, wet laugh. he shakes his head, his arms circling your waist tighter as he presses his forehead against yours. your butterflies tickle your stomach at your proximity.

"fuck, y/n. i can't believe i spend my time trying to get my mind off you." he says and your breath hitches a bit. "do you have any idea how long i've been in love with you?" he asks quietly, and you let out another small laugh out of shock, but it's wet and gleeful.

"i'm sorry." you whisper, your finger curling around a strand of the dark hair on his head. he shakes his head, your noses rubbing slightly. "it's okay, y/n. i love you so much. please let me forgive you." he says, pulling a smile out of you that you don't think anybody else ever could. you nod shortly, looking into his eyes as one last tear falls.

he kisses you tenderly then, taking your breath away.

richie fills up your every sense as he clings to you desperately, his lips salty from your combined tears and his arms strong. his tongue is gentle as it runs along your lips and enters your parted mouth, one of his hands sliding up to tilt your head up towards him. you're breathless because of him for the millionth time in your life and you decide kissing richie is the only thing you want to do forever.

you pull away slowly, and as you lean back he presses a chaste second kiss to your lips, causing you to grin.

you barely make eye contact as you pull apart and then you greedily pull him back to you, his lips finding yours yet again with a sweet, loving laugh.

"i love you too, rich." you mumble against his lips. he sighs almost dreamily as you pull back, biting your lip and laughing when he opens the passenger door, gesturing to it with a shy grin.

"now can i please buy you a burger?" he asks, almost bashfully, and your heart does somersaults. you nod and kiss him again, his hand falling to the small of your back, palm wide and fingers lower than you'd expected. he pulls away and his grin is loving, his eyes hooded in pride as you caress his cheek softly before you slide into the car seat.

he holds your hand the whole night and refuses to let go until you slip through your front door at near midnight, blushes on both of your cheeks and lips kiss-bruised.

the butterflies you feel as you fall asleep with a grin on your face are the exact same ones richie feels as his head finally hits the pillow, a giddy smile on his own face as he smiles to himself in the dark halfway across town.

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