#couldn't see until we started crying from frustration and feeling broken

[starsdotalk]

Couldn't resist writing my own, this is my first time so NO JUDGING PLZ 🙏🏻 (excuse for the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language 🥲)

You once had a family in which you hold very dear to you, a fantastic one at that. Movie nights in the weekends, shopping sprees with your mom, teaching your little brother his homework, and helping your stepdad with his mechanical shenanigans. The normal domestic family one would always dream of. Everything was great! What else could you ask for?

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

You remember that memory, you and you family were going to a museum. Your brother shouting your name to hurry up because "We will arrive to a longgggg line! I don't like waiting!" You we're sleepy, your movements were sluggish, you didn't feel like going out of your bed. Your stepdad told you that you could just sleep in the car on the way to the museum, that made you quickly get ready and hopped in the car.

On the road, You four were singing along to a song you don't remember much. Arriving and then walking in the museum was okay, strolling and looking at some animals that went extinct. Your brother went crazy when you guys arrived at the dinosaur section.

Everything was great! That is until the ground started shaking. it was slow at first, barely felt, and then it started shaking so fast that the T-Rex skeleton structure started to fall off one by one. The ground was shaking, so was your body. You felt terrified, the only thing that took you out of your terrified state was the reassuring hand of your mother holding yours and your stepdad's gaze that shouted a million reassuring words.

People were screaming, crying, running, and shouting. You were a brave kid, you didn't shout or cried. Amidst the chaos, you lost the warm feeling of your mother's hand Interlocked with yours, your father's gaze, and your brother's tight embrace.

You were alone and terrified. Standing alone in the middle of the room with tears spilling from your eyes, your mouth shut even though you want to shout for your family. What could a nine year old even do in a terrifying situation such as this? The next thing you know, the light is out.

You were welcomed by a white ceiling, Your eyes blurry, and your head throbbing in pain. A nurse comes up to you, was her name Alice? Alex? Ally? You don't remember. Her words were inaudible to you, probably asking about how you feel.

Then you remember what happened, your mom, dad, and brother where are they? Are they okay? What happened?With a small and broken voice, you asked about them. The nurse opened and closed her mouth as if unsure if she should tell you. For a few minutes she just kept pondering, you weren't an impatient child like your brother, but you felt as if you have his impatience right at this moment.

You asked again, clearly frustrated and confused. The doctor speaks up, when did he come in? He apologizes, says something about how they did everything they could, but still couldn't save them. What are they talking about? You were sure you heard your mom just calling out to you earlier, aren't they outside the room? They should come in, you want to see them.

You couldn't figure out what emotions was written all over the doctor and nurse's face. You we're always around joyful people, not whatever they we're feeling right at that time.

Suddenly a knock was heard on the door, your uncle stepped in the room. No mom, dad, or brother. Where are they? Are they still asleep?

You couldn't figure out what expression he was wearing again, it was similar to the doctor and the nurse. You didn't care because the next words your uncle let out was one you will never move on from.

"They're dead, your families dead." He says, his voice was odd, it had something more to it than normal. Your nine year old brain couldn't believe it. Them? Dead? No, your mom was calling out to you earlier, you heard her calling your voice!

You didn't take it lightly, you we're a child. A child mourning the lost of it's family.

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

Fast forward to a week, you're in another city, a city far away from home. Your uncle couldn't take you in simply because he was a busy man. So here you are, Infront of your biological father's doorstep.

It's scary here compared to the lush green grass and blue blue skies of your home. A guy named Alfred accompanied you inside, it was empty. Clean yet empty. Very empty.

No toys laying around the place caused by your brother, no sweet scent of a dessert your mom was making, no dad fixing whatever he could find fixable. Where is he anyways? Where's your biological father? You were expecting a warm welcome. He's your biological father after all, the man your mom made you with.

But the welcome was far from your expectations. It was cold, shivering even. Only the Alfred guy made the place less horrifying.

How will your life go on? You were still mourning. And your dad not welcoming you made you feel worse.

Alfred says he's busy, that he will go and greet me later. You obviously believed him, he looked trustworthy.

He leads to a room, it was clean and smelt like cleaning materials. It was quite huge for the nine year old you, bigger than the room back at home.

Alfred offered you to eat, you denied, saying you were tired from the long flight and needed rest. He let you, obviously.

So, now you were staring at the dark ceiling without the glow in the dark stars you had back home. The room was quite, you didn't like the smell. The house was huge and scary. Maybe one day you'll find this house warm and you'll consider this place your new home.

Or maybe not.

Who knows?

Author's note:

THIS IS SO SHORT, IM SORRY 😭

I might make the next chapter longer, so, don't worry 😜

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 18 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - You and Spencer try to cope in the aftermath of running into each other. Spencer makes a series of stupid decisions which lead him back to you and then away from you once more.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - drinking, slightly tipsy reader, swearing, AA meetings, talk of therapy, tears, Spencer falls off the wagon, arguing, slightly aggressive and intimidating Spencer, mention of erectile dysfunction, making out, use of “good girl”, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial(?), Spencer goes from 0-100 and back again, Spencer is incredibly mean.

WC - 7.9k

Chapter 18 - Sandcastles

We built sandcastles that washed away,

I made you cry when I walked away.

Oh, and although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby,

Every promise don't work out that way, oh, babe.

Every promise don't work out that way. 

“How much further is this place? I said we should have gotten a cab.” Tara groaned, her feet howling from the high heels she was wearing. 

“Just a little further.” Penelope insisted. 

Tara glanced at Emily and JJ who seemed to be struggling just as much as she was. Garcia was the only one of the four who wore heels on a regular basis and as such the walk wasn’t bothering her like it was them. 

“You said that five blocks ago.” Emily moaned, clinging to Tara’s arm to help keep her balanced. 

“A little walk never hurt anyone.” Garcia clucked. 

“Tell that to my feet.” JJ rolled her eyes. 

They continued for another two blocks before Penelope picked up her pace and started pointing down the street towards a blue neon sign proclaiming the name Trouble Bird. 

According to Penelope it was the best cocktail bar in the district and she’d insisted they go there for girls' night. 

The four of them had already polished off a couple of bottles of wine at Garcia’s apartment and the blonde had assured them the bar was just around the corner.  

“I don’t care what you say, next time we are getting a cab.” Tara huffed as they closed in on the bar. 

All that walking had seriously sobered her up, making the pre-drinks pointless. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on a cocktail or two. Maybe even five. 

As they neared the entrance, someone heading in their direction clearly caught Penelope’s eye and she slowed until she came to a stop. 

The others did the same, a collective groan leaving their lips. 

“Please god don’t tell me it’s closed.” Emily threw her head back in frustration.

But Garcia wasn’t listening. She took a few steps closer to the woman wearing a long, black evening dress, heels hanging limply from her fingers. 

“Y/N?” She spoke and your eyes shot up from where you’d been looking at the pavement. 

You blinked a few times, eyes darting between the four women and recognising two of them. You wiped your face where your mascara was probably staining your cheeks from crying. 

“Penelope, right? Spencer’s friend. And JJ.” You looked between the two blondes. 

“Y/N?” Tara frowned. “The Y/N?” 

“Uh…yes?” You frowned. 

“This is Tara and Emily, we all worked with Spencer at the BAU.” Penelope informed you. “Are you ok? Have you been crying?” 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shook your head. “It was nice to see you and meet you. I should be going.” 

You started past the women, meanwhile Penelope was giving them all wide eyed glances. 

“Look at her,” she whispered. “We can’t let her leave.” 

“Are you proposing we ask Reid’s ex-girlfriend to hang out with us?” Emily hissed under her breath. 

“I feel bad for her.” JJ replied in equally hushed tones.

“Me too.” Tara agreed. 

“For the record,” you spun back to face them. “You’re not being as quiet as you think you are. I’m fine, really. I’m getting used to being broken up with recently. Growing a pretty thick skin.”

Penelope’s face fell, her heart bleeding for you. She hated seeing anyone upset, even people she barely knew. She moved past JJ, Emily and Tara closer to you. 

“I insist you join us for a drink. This bar is supposed to be great.” She pointed over her shoulder at the Trouble Bird. 

“I think that sounds super weird.” You pulled a face. “No offence, I’m sure you’re all really lovely but as Emily said, I’m your friend's ex-girlfriend. I’m sure Spencer would not love the idea of me drinking with you.” 

“Can I ask you one thing?” Emily stepped forward now, eyebrow raised.

“I guess.” You shrugged. 

“You being upset, does it have anything to do with Reid?” 

“Uh…” you inhaled. “In a roundabout way, kind of.” 

“In that case, you will drink with us. If he’s upset you, screw him.” Emily smiled at you, clamping a hand down on your shoulder. 

“But you’re his friend?” You pulled a face. 

“Guess what, girly?” Garcia clapped her hands together. “We’re your friends now too.” 

And with that she took you by the hand and the five of you continued on inside of the bar. 

***

Two shots of a tequila and an exuberantly large glass of wine later, you’d eased up a little, spilling your guts to four women you barely knew. 

“It’s not even like I care that much, you know?” You sighed. “Sam and I didn’t have a future, I wasn’t in love with him. But bumping into Spencer like that was…fuck it was the worst.” 

“What was Spence doing at an art gallery? I am struggling to picture that.” JJ shook her head. 

“Blair,” you spat her name out of your mouth like a bad taste. “Beautiful, sweet Blair. She works at the gallery.”

“I’m lost.” Tara looked at the others. 

“Yeah, who’s Blair?” Emily added.

“Spencer’s new girlfriend.” You whined. 

“Spence has a new girlfriend?” JJ pulled a face. 

“Oh!” Garcia gasped, clapping her hands to her face. “The mom! The mom of the boy Daisy likes.”

“You knew?” JJ glared at Penelope.

“I knew he had a date a while ago. Luke and I watched the girls and…” she trailed off as the three BAU ladies smirked. 

“You owe me fifty bucks.” Tara nudged Emily. “I told you Alvez and Garcia were dating.” 

“Oh boy,” Penelope blushed. “Uh…surprise?” 

“I really didn’t think it was true.” Emily shook her head, slapping a bill in Tara’s hand. 

“Oh please, Alvez gets all heart eyes every time she walks into a room.” Tara laughed. “But back to the matter at hand. Reid really has a new girlfriend?” 

“Yes,” you pouted. “And Sam broke up with me because I got all heart eyes over Spencer without even realising.” 

“What is up with him lately?” Emily scoffed. “I’ve never known him date like this.”

“He was married for a really long time.” JJ shrugged. 

“He's going through some stuff. Cut him some slack.” Tara sighed and suddenly all eyes were on her. 

“What do you know?” Penelope asked her. 

“What? I don’t know anything.” Tara tried to shake her off.

“Liar! You know something!” Penelope gasped again. “Spill!” 

“I promised him I wouldn’t say anything.” Tara pulled a face. “He’s trying to get sober, I went to a meeting with him a while ago. And he’s seeing a therapist.” 

All four of you looked at Tara, letting her words sink in. Tara looked painfully guilty, feeling terrible for breaking her promise to Spencer. But the girls were worried about him, she wanted to try and stem their fears. 

“So he’s got himself all shiny and new for Blair.” You huffed. “Fabulous. So I was just the rebound after his wife and now this woman gets the new and improved Spencer? Fucking super.”

Out of nowhere you started to cry. And it wasn’t just a few tears, you started sobbing. You doubled over in your chair, resting your head on the table and wrapping your arms around yourself while you wept.

Penelope was next to you and she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to her.

“Oh Y/N,” She cooed, rubbing your back. “Oh dear, sweet Y/N.”

“Spencer is not himself lately,” Emily reached across the table and stroked your hair. “He’s not always like this.”

“I feel like such an idiot.” You sat up, tears still falling rapidly. “I should not be crying about Spencer in front of you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it.” JJ tried to placate you. “Honestly, it's ok.” 

“No it’s not.” You wiped your eyes on the back of your hand. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t leave, not like this.” Tara tried to insist but you were already on your feet. 

“Thanks for this, and I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You sniffed.

“Y/N, you really don’t have to go.” Penelope looked up at you sadly. 

“It’s best that I do. Enjoy the rest of your night, please don’t worry about me.” You turned on your heels and fled the bar, the four BAU ladies watching you go.

“Goddamn Reid.” Emily grunted. “She seems like a nice girl.”

“She is.” Penelope was pouting. “When Luke and I ran into them at Barkhaus they seemed so happy.” 

“I have so many questions about that sentence, that I am going to put a pin in for now.” JJ shook her head. “Clearly Spence is going through a lot.” 

“How long has he been going to therapy, Tara?” Emily asked her, turning to her left. 

But Tara wasn’t listening. 

She was looking down at her phone and the seven missed calls she’d had in the time they had been sitting here. As she stared at it, it started to ring again, the same number as all the others. 

“Who is it? Do you need to get that?” Emily nudged her arm. 

With a sign, Tara looked up at her friends, nodding her head stiffly.

“Yeah I probably should,” she exhaled. “It’s Reid.”

***

Spencer sat on the steps of the building with his head between his knees and his eyes closed. He listened to the passing cars, counted them in his head. He also kept count of every set of shoes he heard walk by.

He estimated he sat there for twenty four minutes before he heard another set of footsteps getting closer. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, her image coming into view.

“How many?” Tara asked softly although her body language was somewhat defensive. 

“Three.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I stopped at three scotch’s.” 

Tara exhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as she did so. She put her hand on his shoulder. 

“You should have called me sooner.” 

“Most likely.” He nodded, feeling like a naughty schoolboy. “I’m sorry.”

“I guess it's some kind of relief you stopped at three.” She guided him back towards the building steps he’d been sitting on. 

“Any more than that and I wouldn’t have made it back.” He confessed. 

He let Tara lead him inside to the meeting he so sorely needed. Afterwards she took him for coffee, despite the late hour. 

“Did I drag you out of bed?” He asked over his mug.

“No, I was at a bar a few blocks away with the girls.” She rolled her lip guiltily between her teeth.

“You told them, didn’t you?” 

“I had to.” She replied. “And uh, Y/N too.” 

Spencer almost dropped his mug. His eyes bulged and his mouth fell open as he glared at her as if she’d just grown a second head.

“Excuse me?” He spat a little angrier than he’d meant to.

“We bumped into her outside the bar. Garcia and JJ recognised her. She’d been crying and we felt bad for her.” Tara shrugged meekly.

“She’d been crying?” His face fell and his bottom lip pouted at the thought.

“Yeah, she broke up with her boyfriend.” 

“She did?” He sat up straight suddenly, like he’d been juiced with an electric current. 

“Don’t get too excited,” Tara rolled her eyes. “She’s heartbroken, Reid. You did a real number on her. She thinks she was nothing more than a rebound from Maeve.”

“That’s not true.” He shook his head frantically. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“You moved on pretty fast.” Tara sighed, picking up her coffee.

“Only because she did.” He whined a little. “If anything, Blair is a rebound from Y/N. I love her Tara, I love her so much.” 

“I am not the one you should be telling this to.” She shrugged. 

“You’re right.” He nodded, slipping out of the booth and throwing some bills on the table.

“Where are you going?” Tara frowned up at him.

“To talk to Y/N.”

“Right now?”

“Yes right now!” 

“Seems like a pretty bad idea to me.” She cocked an eyebrow. 

“Don’t care. I need to see her.” He sounded like he’d made up his mind.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tara focused back on her coffee. 

“Thanks for coming to the meeting with me.” 

“You’re welcome. See you soon, Reid.” She sighed, watching him flee the diner.

She hoped he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. But she feared this would only end in disaster. 

***

You were still awake, in bed and staring at the wall unblinking. The alcohol you’d consumed tonight seemed like a long distant memory and you felt horribly sober. 

Every muscle in your body hurt but you weren’t sure why. It was as though the heartache was spreading through your extremities, encompassing every pore. 

You’d missed Spencer every single second of every single day since you broke up. But after tonight you missed him with a renewed intensity. 

To see him with another woman, holding her hand, thinking about what they got up to behind closed doors tore your heart apart all over again. 

You’d meant nothing to him, it was as simple as that. You’d just been a notch on his bedpost, a rebound from his wife. 

You’d cried so many tears you physically couldn’t cry anymore. So you continued to stare at the wall and hope at some point sleep would wash over you. 

After a while there was a knock on your bedroom door but you ignored it. It came again twice more but both times you remained quiet. 

Then the door opened and your eyes flicked from the wall to the figure in the doorway. 

Your roommate Travis tentatively stepped inside, hands in his pockets. 

“Uh, you have a visitor.” He shrugged. 

“Don’t care.” You croaked. 

“I don’t think he’s going away.” Travis shrugged again. 

You frowned and shifted a little on the bed. 

“He? He who?” You grumbled, rubbing your sore eyes. 

Travis didn’t reply, instead he stepped aside so your visitor could enter the room. 

Spencer looked about as bad as you probably did as he shuffled in your room. Travis slipped out behind him and closed the door. 

His tie was undone, hanging limply around his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone under his jacket. 

You sat up in bed, glaring at him angrily whilst hugging the sheets around your body like some kind of protective armour. 

“You’ve got a nerve showing up here.” You tried to sound angry but your voice was no more than a pathetic croak. 

“I drank tonight.” He seemingly ignored you, stepping further into your room. “For the first time in weeks, I caved and I drank. Because I saw you.”

“Am I supposed to apologise for that? You’re a grown man Spencer, if you can’t handle your alcohol then that’s on you.” You managed to sound angrier this time. 

“It’s called an addiction, Y/N! I don’t have any control of it! I don’t have a healthy, normal attitude towards alcohol. I’m not the kind of person that can just have a drink, I have to drink to excess, get wasted to forget my pathetic fucking life!” He yelled at you and you flinched a little. 

“If you just came here to yell at me then leave. I am in no mood to listen to your bullshit, Spencer. Go back to your girlfriend. I don’t want you here.” You shook your head at him. 

“No,” he stepped even further into the room. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve said what I came here to say.” 

“And what did you come here to say?” You got out of bed as he got closer, hating the way he was looming over you. 

You only wore a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top and you tried to ignore how exposed you felt. 

“I quit drinking, or at least it tried, I’m trying. I started therapy, I’m trying to be a better version of myself.” 

“Yeah, for your new girlfriend.” You scoffed. 

“Seriously? That’s what you think? You think I’m doing all of this for her?” He sounded incredulous. 

“Who did you do it for then? Enlighten me.” You growled, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“For a start, I’m doing it for my daughters because they deserve more from me.” 

“Agreed.” You rolled your eyes. 

“But I’m also doing it for you! I’m doing it because I want to be the kind of man who is worthy of your love.” He lowered his voice a little but the anger still shone through. 

“Oh please,” you shook your head. “You didn’t love me, Spencer. You love your ex-wife. Or maybe you love Blair, who knows? I can’t keep up with you.” 

“Yeah, I do love my ex-wife, ok?” He grabbed you by the biceps suddenly, making you whimper. “Of course I do! It’s normal for me to feel that way. Her hurting me doesn’t change the fact that we had a lot of good years together. It doesn’t erase the fact she’s the mother of my kids. But it also doesn’t mean for a second that I don’t also love you.”

“I think you’re just scared to be alone.” You shook your head. “You can’t stand to be lonely. You don’t love me Spencer, you just want someone to play happy families with. Well it won’t be me.” 

Spencer hissed and suddenly, using his grip on your arms he spun you around and shoved you up against the wall. 

You whined as your back slammed into it, his grip on your biceps tightening. 

“You think I’m lying? You think I would stand here and lie to you?” He spat right in your face. 

“I didn’t say that. You might think you love me, but you only want me until the next pretty face walks by.” 

“What the fuck do you think of me?” He shook you a little. “You think I’m some kind of fucking asshole who uses women and throws them aside once he’s done with them?” 

“If the shoe fits.” You shrugged. 

His jaw clenched tightly and his eyes were brimming with his rage. 

“I didn’t throw you aside, Y/N, you walked away.” 

“Because I heard you telling your ex you were still in love with her!” You yelled again, fighting against his hold on you but he was stronger. “And then suddenly you’re dating someone else entirely. How is that supposed to make me feel?” 

“I thought she was what I needed. She knows what I’ve been through, she understands because she’s been there too. But she’s not you, she’ll never be you. And you aren’t exactly innocent in all of this, you moved on from me pretty fast if I remember correctly.” He was caging you into the wall, trapping you in your own room. 

“I was trying to get over you.” You scoffed. 

“By fucking some frat boy looking behemoth?” He raised his voice again. 

“Don’t turn this around on me. It was your fault we broke up, not mine. If you’re allowed to sleep with every single mom who looks your way then I’m allowed to sleep with the decent guy who has had feelings for me since college!” You yelled back but you noticed his expression falter. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, finally letting go of you and taking a step back. 

“What is it? I touched a nerve.” 

“I didn’t sleep with her, ok? Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t sleep with her.” 

“You expect me to believe that? You couldn’t get me into bed fast enough when we met!” You shook your head. 

“You want to know the truth?” He suddenly grabbed you again and you found yourself quickly being pinned to the wall once more. “The truth is I couldn’t get it up for her. And I thought it was because of my goddamn antidepressants but it wasn’t. It wasn’t my meds, it couldn’t have been.” 

“Why couldn’t it have been?” You swallowed thickly. 

“Because,” he clenched his jaw again. “From the second you got out of bed and I saw what you were wearing…I got hard without so much as touching you and I have been ever since.” 

You felt the air leave your lungs and you couldn’t stop from glancing down between your bodies, as if you needed proof. But low and behold you saw it, the obvious tenting in his slacks. 

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and he was staring intently at you. 

“So while you might have been spreading your legs for someone else, I couldn’t physically bring myself to sleep with her. I couldn’t even fucking masturbate because my hand isn’t you!” He spat. 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You scowled at him. “Am I supposed to fall to my knees and thank you? You think you can come here and tell me you can’t get it up for another woman and I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” 

“You got in my head, don’t you understand? You got in my head and into my heart. You’re under my skin, in my veins like a drug. Maeve, Blair; they have nothing on you. I thought Maeve was the love of my life because I didn’t know any better. She’s not the love of my life, you are!” He pushed you more firmly against the wall, his hips now pressing into yours and you could feel just how hard he was. 

Did it make you a complete idiot for thinking you may fall back into bed with him? He made it so easy to hate him, but he also made it impossible not to love him. 

You didn’t want to forgive him, didn’t want to give in and relent to him but it felt inevitable. The way he was looking at you coupled with his firm hold on your arms and his hard cock pressing against you was making you weak. 

It was only a matter of time. 

“I’m not even sure you know what love is.” You scoffed. 

Were you deliberately baiting him? Were you purposefully trying to anger him further? Was there a part of you that liked seeing him like this, pushed to his limits? 

As expected he tightened his grip on you and you could feel the bruises starting to form. 

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me, sweetheart?” He spoke, practically reading your mind. 

“Whether I am or not, clearly it’s working.” You shrugged. “But if I really wanted to get a rise out of you I suppose I could tell you that while you couldn’t get it up for your girlfriend, I was having some incredibly mind blowing sex with Sam.” 

Why were you doing this? What the fuck was wrong with you? 

Perhaps it was the anger still flooding your veins, the hurt Spencer had caused you lingered like a rain cloud. Maybe you wanted him to know how it felt, you wanted him to feel your pain. 

His eyes darkened as he stared at you and a menacing kind of smirk spread across his lips. 

“Oh darling,” he chuckled deeply, angrily. “You and I both know he has nothing on me.” 

“Wow, big headed much?” 

“It’s not big headed if it’s a fact.” He laughed darkly again. “I put my all into everything I do, research and study so I am the very best at anything I set my mind to. And that is how I know I am good in bed. Better than that oversized asshat you spent your time with.” 

You swallowed again, subconsciously pressing your thighs together. You hoped he didn’t notice but of course he did. 

“How wet are you right now, Y/N?” He smirked, his eyes practically black. 

“I’m…not.” You lied and he saw right through you. 

“Oh ok,” he laughed again with a roll of his eyes. “So if I was to do this…” 

He trailed off and removed one hand from your bicep. You watched it move between your bodies and suddenly it was between your legs, ghosting over the fabric of your shorts.

The soaking wet fabric of your shorts. 

You hissed involuntarily and Spencer moved his hand back up to your bicep looking incredibly smug. 

“I thought so.” He grinned dangerously. “You know you only need to say the word and I’m yours.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “You hurt me, you broke my fucking heart!” 

“Let me make it better, princess. I can make it up to you.” He softened, looking at you with something akin to love in his eyes. 

“No.” You whimpered. “You can’t make up for what you’ve done.” 

The darkness quickly returned to his eyes and in one swift move his lips were slamming into yours. You whined and the second your lips were parted his tongue plunged into your mouth. 

You allowed him to kiss you, his hips grinding against yours. You were putty in his hands, a complete and utter idiot. But you didn’t care. 

The kiss didn’t last very long before he was pulling back and staring deep into your eyes. 

“You don’t want me?” He narrowed his eyes on you. “You want me to leave?” 

You swallowed, trying to muster the strength to tell him to go, to leave and never come back. But you couldn’t. 

Instead you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him back in for another kiss. And if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn he was smirking into your lips. 

Soon enough he was manoeuvring you away from the wall and over to your bed. His lips remained on yours, deepening the kiss as he went. You felt the back of your calves hit the bed but Spencer kept you upright with his hold still on your arms. 

He moved his hands now, fingertips grazing down the sides of your rib cage, lower and lower until they reached the hem of your tank top. He hooked his fingers in the fabric and started raking it up your body. 

He pulled back from the kiss, his lips puffy and swollen, and you raised your arms for him to lift the top the rest of the way off. He tossed it aside quickly and your hands found the ends of his tie, still hanging around his neck. 

You used it to pull him back in for another kiss and then started on the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged his jacket off in the meantime and let it hit the floor. 

You got him out of his shirt and it joined the other clothes on the floor. And then he pushed you back to the bed until your back collided with the mattress. 

He regarded you with his dark eyes and a sinful smirk before crawling on the bed, kneeling either side of your hips. He laid on top of you, hissing at the contact from your bare chests. 

He stroked your hair lovingly back off of your face in a stark contrast to his previous roughness. But it only lasted a moment as soon he was kissing you again with renewed fervour. 

He grinded his hips against yours, relishing in the feeling of being able to get hard again. He should have known it wasn’t his meds. He should have known you’d be the cure. 

His lips left yours and peppered kisses along your jawline. Your head rolled back to allow him access to your neck. In kind he moved lower, lips sucking against the skin on the front of your throat. 

Your hands wandered to his shoulder blades, nails kneading the muscles while he moved on to place kisses all along your collarbones. 

Soon they ebbed lower, lips leaving their trail over the tops of your breasts and then down your sternum. 

He circled back to place a deep kiss on the swell of your breast before you felt his tongue swirl around your hardened nipple. 

You moaned as he took the bud in his mouth, teeth grazing your peak, teasingly nibbling it. You arched your back, toes curling. 

He sucked and nipped for a few moments before offering the same treatment to your other nipple. You were writhing beneath him on the bed, wanton moans and breathy pants leaving your parted lips. 

A few more strategically placed kisses between your breasts and he was continuing his journey down your stomach, around your belly button and then across each hip. 

You were rolling your hips up to meet him, desperate for more. He smirked against your skin, knowing he was driving you crazy but that was part of the fun. 

He looked up at you through his hair which had now fallen into his face, while he placed kisses along the waistband of your cotton shorts. 

You’d moved to grip his shoulders and were not so subtly trying to push him lower. 

“Use your words, princess.” He spoke against your shorts. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.” You whined. 

“Do I?” He teased. “I think you might have to spell it out for me.” 

He sat back a few inches, his large hands now on your thighs and parting them so he could kneel between them. 

Your pupils were blown out as you looked up at him, face flushed red with your arousal. 

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please, what?” He was enjoying this. He was enjoying this too much. 

“Please go down on me. Please, Spencer? God I missed your mouth between my legs.” 

He made the most animalistic sound, closing his eyes and feeling his cock throb painfully. When he opened his eyes again you were staring right at him, begging him with your gaze. 

“Oh how I have missed being between your legs.” He lowered himself again, kissing along your stomach once more whilst tugging at the hem of your shorts.

You arched your back again to aid him pulling them down your legs, the wet patch left behind in the fabric making Spencer feral. 

He balled up the garment and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply and moaning as the scent of your arousal encompassed him. 

“Is this all for me, angel?” He smirked, dropping the shorts on the floor. 

“Of course,” you nodded, hooking your legs over his shoulders. “Only ever for you, Spence.” 

“Such a good girl for me.” He rewarded you by placing a kiss on your inner thigh. “Who do you belong to?” 

“Y-you.” You stuttered, desperate for him. 

“Good girl.” He repeated and kissed the inside of your other thigh. “Who’s better in bed, angel? Me or that pumped up frat boy?”

“You are!” You whined. “No one’s better than you.” 

“You really are such a good girl for me, Y/N.” He smiled, kissing slightly higher on your thigh. 

“So g-good.” You agreed. “P-please?” 

“Well, since you did ask so nicely.” He bowed his head, blowing air between your legs and making you squirm. 

He lifted one arm and pressed his forearm over your hips, holding you in place. And then his tongue cautiously swiped through your silken folds. 

He collected your arousal on his tongue, moaning at how good you tasted. You whimpered and your eyes fell shut, blindly reaching out until you found his head and threaded your fingers into his locks. 

You dug your nails into his roots when he found purchase on your clit. He swiped his tongue back and forth over your sensitive bud a couple of times before wrapping his lips around it. 

He suckled on you, tongue jutting out every so often to add to the pleasure. You tugged at his hair, grinding against his face, needing more. 

He smiled against you, his free hand edging up your thigh. You felt two long, nimble fingers press against you. 

He glanced up at you through his lashes and he saw your eyes squeezed tightly shut and a few tears forcing their way out. 

He continued to lap over your clit while he pushed his two digits inside of you. He growled against you, he’d almost forgotten how good you felt. The way you stretched around his fingers was heaven, and suddenly he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock again. 

He’d had every intention of bringing you to orgasm like this and he knew it wouldn’t take a lot. But as he fingered you, his digits moving deftly in and out of your throbbing cunt, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. 

He pulled his mouth away from you, causing your eyes to suddenly open. He kept his fingers inside of you, stretching you as much as he could in preparation.

“Why’d you stop?” You whimpered, tears staining your face. 

“I don’t think I can wait any longer.” His fingers brushed against your cervix and you shuddered and moaned. “I’m sorry, I need to be inside of you so badly.”

“Ok.” You nodded. “Please?” 

He kissed your hip bones whilst scissoring his fingers inside of you a few more times. His other hand worked on the button of his slacks. 

When he removed his fingers you whined again, feeling horribly empty. Spencer sat back so he could shimmy off his pants and underwear before laying back down on top of you. 

His hard member found its way between your legs and he moved back and forth through your slick a few times. He bowed his head to kiss you, cupping your jaw tenderly. 

“You’re not on birth control are you?” He spoke against your lips. 

“I am now, I started on the pill.” You replied. 

What you didn't say was that you’d gone on it because of his own paranoia. He’d somehow transferred his obsession with birth control onto you. He’d told you condoms were ninety eight percent effective, eighty five when factoring in human error. The pill, as you’d researched, was over ninety nine percent effective when taken at the same time every day, which you did religiously. 

“Great.” He swallowed thickly, sitting back between your parted legs. 

He held the base of his shaft and lined himself up with your desperate hole. 

“I have condoms though.” You frowned up at him. 

“I want to do this. I want to feel you, really feel you.” He insisted. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Did you use protection with him?” 

“Yes.” You nodded. 

“Then I’m sure.” He nodded although he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. 

He did want this, more than anything, but that didn’t take away his fear of getting you pregnant. Realistically he knew the pill was incredibly safe, and the likelihood of you getting pregnant was very low. He couldn’t help but be paranoid. 

But he wanted this, needed this. He wanted to take your relationship to a level he never thought he’d experience again. He wanted to be sheathed inside of you with no barrier, nothing between his cock and your throbbing walls. 

“I will warn you I have not had unprotected sex in a very long time and I’m already dangerously close so if this doesn’t last long…” 

“I don’t care.” You rolled your hips against him. “Please, Spencer?” 

He nodded, taking a breath to stem his nerves. Keeping hold of the base of his cock he slowly pushed his way inside of you, his eyes rolling back in his head the second he inched passed your entrance. 

The sounds emanating from his lips could only be described as sinful. He was careful in his movements, disappearing inside of you inch by painful inch. 

It felt like coming up for air. Being inside of you like this was the most incredible feeling of his whole life. He could feel every tiny movement of you stretching around his heavy length, the smallest fluttering of your walls.

He bottomed out inside of you and collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face against your neck and breathing heavily. 

“There are no words in any human language to describe what that feels like.” He spoke into your skin. “You're definitely on the pill?”

“One hundred percent.” You confirmed, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Good,” he lifted his head enough to look you in the eyes. “Because I want nothing more than to come inside of you.” 

You moaned deeply and he felt you clench around him. His hips bucked involuntarily. 

“P-please,” you nodded. “Please I want you to come inside me.” 

He pushed himself back up, his hands either side of your face. You wrapped your own hands around his biceps, squeezing him to encourage him to move. 

He started slowly, not wanting this feeling to end too soon. He pulled back almost all the way before leisurely sinking back inside of you. 

He stared down on you, not breaking eye contact as he moved in and out of you. He was already close and he didn’t want this to end so soon so he continued his slow thrusts. 

With each one his blunt head nudged against your bundle of nerves, and elicited a deep moan from your lungs. He was panting and grunting, closing his eyes briefly every time you clenched around his bare dick. 

At that moment he had never felt so intrinsically connected to someone. He felt like he’d become a part of you and you him. Your body was simply an extension of his own. 

He could feel so much, he’d forgotten what it was like to be like this, it was a feeling he wanted to last forever. 

He’d never been so raw and exposed with another person and for a while that was the most wonderful feeling. But as he felt his orgasm start to build in the pit of his stomach, another unwelcome sensation joined it.

What the fuck am I doing? 

He closed his eyes as an onslaught of emotions erupted inside of him. The voice of a woman he’d had a one night stand with telling him she was pregnant. Falling in love with a woman who could so easily tear apart the life they’d built together like it was a house of cards. 

Spencer I’m keeping this baby whether you want to be a part of its life or not. 

Spencer I’ve been having an affair. 

Spencer, this is Bobby, my boyfriend. 

Why is mommy leaving? 

Why doesn’t she want to live with us anymore? 

“Can’t do this.” He mumbled, his movements slowing ever further. 

“Huh?” You panted squeezing his biceps. “I’m close Spence, don’t stop.” 

“Can’t do this.” He repeated, his eyes snapping open. 

He stared down at you again, stilling his movements completely. A look of remorse washed over him and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” He withdrew you, physically and mentally. 

You whined when he pulled out, sitting up and frowning at him. 

“What are you doing?” You mumbled, head hazy with your impending orgasm of which you’d been denied. 

“I can’t do it.” He moved off the bed, getting to his feet, ignoring the fact his cock was still standing at attention. 

“So we’ll use a condom.” You stared at his back. 

“No, it’s not just that.” He turned back to you, eyes full of sorrow. “I should go.” 

“What? Why?” You pulled the sheet around your body feeling exposed although Spencer didn’t seem to notice he was still naked. 

“I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry. I can’t do this Y/N.” 

“Do what?” 

“This. Us. It’s not going to work is it? We know that.” 

“How do we know that?” You frowned at him. 

“Have you just completely forgotten that we want different things? That hasn’t changed.” He shrugged, finding his boxers on the floor and pulling them on now as his dick started to soften with his overwhelming emotions. 

“You came to me. You came to me, not the other way around. You come here and tell me you love me and sleep with me and now you’re saying this?” You were incredulous. 

You jumped out of bed, quickly throwing your clothes back on while Spencer did the same. He didn’t button his shirt properly but he didn’t care or notice. 

“I can’t do this, I can’t bring someone into my girls lives when it’s not going to work out. They’ve already been hurt by one woman, I can’t have them be hurt by another.” He raised his voice a little, stuffing his tie in his pocket. 

“They have or you have?” You scoffed. “Let’s be honest here, Spencer. This isn’t about your kids, it’s about you.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “No it’s not.” 

“Maeve hurt you, I get it. But not everyone is like that.” You tried to reason with him but he kept shaking his head. 

“I’ve known you for all of five minutes Y/N, I knew her for thirteen years. If someone can hurt another person that way after over a decade of marriage and two children then who’s to say you couldn’t do the same?” He spat, pushing his hair back from his face. 

“So this is about you.” 

“No,” he frowned. “What is meant is, if someone can hurt their own daughters that way, who’s to say a stranger couldn’t do it too.” 

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re scared Spencer and I understand that. What Maeve did to you was horrible, I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you. But you have to have faith that not everyone is out to hurt you.” 

“Faith?” He scoffed, his expression indignant. “I have to have faith? Faith in another human being not to hurt my girls the way their own mother hurt them?” 

“Spencer, come on. This isn’t just about them and you know it!” You yelled, getting frustrated by his deflection.

“You don’t get it.” He growled. “You don’t get it because you don’t have kids.” 

“Kids are tough. They bounce back quicker. It’s adults that are the vulnerable ones. We’re the ones that hang onto those losses, that feel the pain longer. I’m not doubting for a second that your wife hurt them when she left and I am not saying they probably aren’t still harbouring some kind of feelings about it. But they are buoyant and you’ve let yourself drown.” You folded your arms over your chest, shaking a head a little in disappointment. 

You saw the way he clenched his jaw, the way his eyes darkened again and it didn’t at all take you by surprise when he stepped forward and grabbed you roughly by the arm. 

“You don’t know anything,” he was really close to you, spitting his words right in your face. “You don’t have kids, you don’t get it. You don’t get to tell me what my kids are going through. You don’t get to tell me what I’m going through. You don’t know my girls, and you don’t know me.” He shook you by the arm but you wouldn’t show him your fear. 

“You think I don’t know you? Oh please.” You scoffed, his grip on you getting firmer, blunt fingernails pressing into the previous marks he’d left behind. 

“You know the things I’ve actively shown you. You know the side of me I am willing for you to see. You don’t know me. Not the real me.” He growled, spittal flying from his lips. 

“I know you.” You spat back. “I know you’re scared of being vulnerable, terrified of letting someone close to you because you were hurt in a way no one should ever have to be hurt by someone they love. You built up walls to protect your heart from another beating. You use your kids as an excuse not to let anyone in. Because deep down you are petrified of getting your heart broken again. So you’re pushing me away because you think it’ll be easier than giving me a chance to hurt you.”

His eyes were practically black now, his pupils and irises bleeding together in his anger. His grip on you was so tight it was starting to hurt but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him as much. 

“You don’t know shit. You think because you're getting your doctorate in psychology that you can read me? If that’s the best you’ve got you’ve got a lot to learn.” He let go of you now, turning away from you. “This isn’t up for debate Y/N. This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have come here and now I’m leaving.”

“Coward,” you spat. “Fucking coward.” 

He spun back to you, eyes somehow even darker than before. 

“Fuck you.” He replied childishly. 

“You’d rather be alone and miserable than be with someone you love on the off chance you might get hurt? That’s pretty cowardly Spencer.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I only told you I loved you to get you into bed?” A menacing smirk blossomed on his lips. “You said it yourself, I couldn’t get you into bed fast enough when we met. I was touch starved, I needed to get laid. I would have said just about anything to get in your pants.”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head meekly. 

“It most certainly is true, Y/N.” He chuckled darkly.

“You’re lying.” You whimpered. 

“Am I?” He clucked. “Do you really believe that?” 

“If that’s true you are exceptionally cruel.” Your eyes misted over with tears. 

“Like I said, you don’t know me. Maybe I’m just a cruel person.” He shrugged, taking a few steps backwards. 

“I hope one day you wake up and realise you made a huge mistake.” You snarled at him. “I hope you wake up and it hurts, it hurts everywhere. It hurts because you threw away a chance at real happiness. I hope that day comes and I hope you track me down to tell me how much it fucking hurts. Just so I can say, respectfully Doctor Reid, go burn in hell.” 

You stormed past him, flinging the door open and glaring at him angrily. His expression faltered a little, the darkness in his eyes fading.

“Y/N I…”

“Leave.” You motioned to the open door. “Get out of my apartment you asshole.” 

He clenched his jaw, feeling a tightness spread to chest. It was as though he had been possessed for a moment, like something else had taken over his body. Now he looked at you, the pain behind your eyes, he wanted to take back every single word he hadn’t meant to say. 

“I don’t think that I-”

“Don’t care.” You cut him off. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t care. I am done listening to you now. Get the fuck out of my apartment and don’t even think about coming back here. You might have saved yourself and your kids the pain but you have shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces Spencer Reid. I hope you’re fucking happy.” 

“Y/N…”

“Go!” You yelled. “Now! Or I’ll call the cops.” 

Spencer clenched his jaw again, rhythmically grinding his rear molars together to try and stem any tears that might threaten to fall. He gave you one last look before he nodded and headed past you through the open door. 

Seconds later, before he even made it to your front door, he heard the bedroom one slam, so loudly the walls shook. 

And he knew before he even got to the door that he was going to leave here, find a bar and get so drunk he may never wake up. 

@foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24

@pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @hades-disappointment-child @weirdothatwritess

[kennhiro]

The Star I Admire part 2 (Tobirama's POV)

Alternate Universe, Modern Universe

TW: it's a bit sad.

Context: Tobirama is immortal.

Today, you're leaving me again. No matter how hard i tried, i lost you. The first time you got reincarnated, i was excited, so much that i lost my composure, our first reunion feels like heaven had given me mercy. Until fate stab me from behind. You were never meant to be mine anymore.

Years of waiting, i did everything to be with you, always there for you, be the shoulder you needed when you cry. None of it ever brings you back to me. The first time you got reincarnated, the second, third, fourth, eleventh, twentieth, fortieth, until i lost count. I lost you repeatedly, i cried. I have suffered every kind of rejection, suffered more than a thousand death, and a countless broken heart. As if it couldn't get worse, you always born with the same name, y/n. There's no other person for me, I wanna cry out loud for you to see, i wanna tell you that it's killing me, but even that's not easy.

Do you have any idea how much i wanted to end this? yet i still long for you, your presence, hoping that someday you'll reach me. And it's gone, i lost... me. I left you, i avoid you... no longer waiting for you. No more, false hope. It feels strangely calm, as if you just woke up from a nightmare with the pain still mixed in your consciousness, and haunted by it. I started a new life, without you. I tried my best to avoid you when you're nearby, we should never met again.

For the last decades you always find a way to find me, our little reunion, at the street, public transportation, means nothing to me. Even when we walk past each other, i felt numb. I'm just a stranger, it's just me who remember us. And so, i tried to forget about you. As if fate was fooling with me, you come even closer. You're now an intern at the same office as mine. Lucky me, i could always avoid you there and decrease the chance of meeting you, until your last day.

It's 3:53 PM i went out form my office to grab some drink, my favorite green tea latte. "Maybe i should have just drink it here, and enjoy the scene outside by the window," i thought, i as i grab my green tea latte into the table. The sky slowly turns into sunset, people are laughing, crying, and i just have a blank stare. Until it's 5:02 PM,i went back to the office.

On my way back, i saw you from a far, you were standing in front of the office with the same blank stare as mine. Just like the other reunion, it's nothing. I walk towards the office, walk closer to you, until i realize a strange motion coming from you, you grab your phone, and took a picture as soon as i coincidently went in to your frame. I was surprised, "Y/n," i whisper.

Click

You took the picture.

Not sure how to react, i just freeze there, unable to do anything. Until the sound of my own heartbeat, snap me out. I left... in hurry. "What was that?" i asked myself. All these years of forgetting her, yet im on the verge of crying. I cover my face as i walk to my office room. I slam the door out of frustration, unable to think, yet i feel an intense pain in my chest. I gasp uncontrollably as my tears fall down, i punch the wall, i hit the table. There's no other person for me. I fell down on my knee as my cry turns into screams, i hug myself helplessly, and slowly put my head on the floor. No matter how much i hit everything i have, it doesn't hurt more than your name.

[midnight--sadness]

Hello! God, it's been a while, it's me again, Miss Nap Girl! I have so many ideas and concepts to share. During this time, I've come up with quite a few, one of which I'm seriously considering writing and even illustrating, who knows! Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but I have so much to do for this ship that I don't know where to start, haha.

I've been thinking nonstop for days about this AU that you made about Gihun being the wife of a criminal Inho, and I'm so fascinated. Gihun, knowing very well that he was married to danger incarnate, and even after having committed a bank robbery and caused a death, is still with him because, of course, he's his man, his husband. They don't know him like Gihun knows him!

Inho saved him. When he saw Gihun dancing so sensually on that pole, he knew that this beauty should be his property, and so he did. He took him out of that wretched brothel and made him his precious, spoil babygirl. And these months without Gihun being able to touch his husband are a real ordeal, not to mention how he has to be constantly up and down with the lawyer, trying to reach some kind of agreement on the sentence. It was all so stressful for our precious Gihun. He wasn't cut out for the law and all that.

The only thing he did know how to do well was choose provocative, tight-fitting clothes to visit his Inho—oh, his poor Inho! How badly he must be feeling in there. Whenever Gihun asked him how Inho was doing, he couldn't care less about the question, he was too focused on seeing Gihun hips, his cleavage highlighting his tits, and those long legs. They were so sexually frustrated that Gihun even put on a show for him during one visit: lifting his shirt so he could see his titties, pulling down his pants and panties a bit so he could see how shaved her pussy was—the kind of provocation that made Inho masturbate under the table until he climaxed. But even then, that was never enough. He needed to vent even more the frustration of his Inho. After all, it was the only thing Gihun knew how to do well, or thats what his husband says.

Gihun, with an absurd amount of money, managed to bribe a guard, granting him an hour alone with his Inho. He was fully dressed for the occasion, and best of all, it was a surprise!

Inho was called by a guard who said he had a visit. Inho, somewhat annoyed, followed the guard, and when he locked him in a room, he feared the worst. Oh no, one of those bastards had ratted out a guard about his escape plan! He was totally tense, about to jump on whoever it was, until, behind the door, he found his sweet Gihun hugging him, kissing him all over his face, and crying because he missed him so much.

And anyway, what can I say about the sex they had? Gihun wearing a beautiful lace lingerie, which ended up broken because of how crazy Inho became when, after so many months, he was finally able to taste and feel his muse's pussy again. In less than an hour, they had enough orgasms for both of them to finally be defeated.

Before returning to the reality of prison, Inho told Gihun his plan: he was going to ignore the lawyer and whatever they decided in court. He had his own plan, but he needed his princess on his side, because he was going to be on his side, right?

Well, Gihun couldn't think straight at that moment; the only thing on his mind was how much he missed Inho's big cock.

PS: Im from spain! We are neighbors :D

OMG NAP GIRL AND I ARE NEIGHBORS!!!! 💖💖🙏🙏 this also explains the napping lmao a siesta always hits!!

if u start writing and illustrating, which i hope you will, u already a loyal fan here 🙌

i love absolutely everything abt this omg 😩😖🫶

gihun would be so worried abt inho, wondering how he is, if he's eating and sleeping, if he has been getting in trouble. and inho is only thinking of gihun's pussy...

also, i love the little backstory u gave them! gihun being a dancer and inho taking him away to be his alone is so hot 🥴 saving gihun to keep him for himself... okay possessiveness!!!

gihun is so cockdrunnk he can barely listen to inho's plan but inho tells him to focus, they'll have all the time in the world to have sex later. after inho busts out and he meets gihun in the car, they have sex again because they are insastiable.

omg wait! the other day i saw this pic on pinterest and this is sooo something gihun would wear in the brothel to dance 😌 it's how he gets inho's attention

[shostakobitchh]

Chapter 69 sneak peek

This is a VERY VERY VERY rough draft

Miss Evans worked her jaw — the sharpness made Severus’ chest constrict again before she reached for the chalk, stalling as she wrote, slower this time. 

What if it’s me?

Severus massaged his temples, his patience wearing thin. "Miss Evans, we have been over this. There was a — unseen reaction with the potion. I will find the cause, and I will remedy it. In the meantime, you are meant to rest.”

She shook her head vehemently, auburn hair flying, and began scribbling on the chalkboard again. The words were jagged and sharp, like the expression on her face.

That doesn’t answer my question. 

Severus clenched his jaw, his black eyes boring into hers. "You are not broken." 

Miss Evans let out a huff through her nose, shaking her head again in frustration. She swiped the eraser across the board and started writing once more.

I almost died. I can't talk. I can't do magic. What else would you call it?

"Healing." Severus stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. He moved to stand before her, looming over her hunched form, putting his hands on either side of her as he leaned onto the mattress. "You are healing, Miss Evans. It is a process, not a permanent state. You need to exercise patience — patience which you seem determined to eschew in favor of petulance."

Miss Evans stared up at him, her black eyes swirling. She jabbed the chalk against the board, her hand shaking.

I don’t believe you. 

Severus exhaled sharply through his nose. He could feel the heat of her magic simmering beneath her skin, begging to be released. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"You must give it time," he forced through gritted teeth. "I know patience is not your strong suit, but in this case, you have no choice."

She glared at him, a muscle ticking in her jaw. Then she shoved the chalkboard into his chest and pushed past him, stalking away and into the loo. Severus caught the board before it could clatter to the floor, his eyes following her rigid back until she disappeared through the door, slamming it shut behind her.

He looked down at her last message, the words seared into the slate.

Liar. 

Severus closed his eyes, his head falling back. He understood her frustration, her feelings of helplessness, more than she could possibly know.

Was he lying to her? Or was Severus lying to himself, thinking he could fix this, fix her? The weight of his failure pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He looked towards her closed door, imagining her on the other side, hunched over the sink, drowning in despair. He had done this to her — and now he had no idea how to undo it. 

Severus let out a shuddering breath and waited. He stared at her closed door, the silence pressing in on him from all sides. This couldn't go on. It was becoming a nightly occurrence, spurned by Pomfrey’s visits that always ended with a resigned shake of her head and Miss Evans looking crestfallen. 

After several minutes the girl returned, slipping back into the infirmary bed with her back to him. He moved to the opposite side and sat down on the edge after a while, the mattress dipping under his weight. Miss Evans didn't stir, but he knew she was awake. He could feel the tension radiating off her rigid form, could see the white-knuckled grip she had on the sheets.

Severus sat there in the darkness, listening to her shallow breaths, unsure of what to say. He was not equipped for this — for comforting a teenage girl, especially not one he had nearly killed — his own daughter. He’d always been rubbish at comfort. He’d tried very hard not to make Lily cry, and even when she’d come to him for support, it had only ever ended with her becoming more frustrated. The only person they’d ever really been able to commiserate over — that Severus had made her feel better about when he’d bothered her — had been Potter. Severus had made her laugh so hard she’d cry, a reaction that had waned over the years until it had disappeared completely. At one point, everything he’d said to her had been wrong. 

He’d made countless mistakes with their daughter. He’d made the girl cry — he’d tried hard to make her hate him — but this — this one act of something besides cold disdain and utter terror in the face of the unimaginable — of her being his — was teetering dangerously close to Severus’ breaking point. 

He needed her to understand that it was he who was flawed. She was — she was — 

"Your current state is my fault." Severus’ voice cut through the heavy silence. "I brewed the potion. I made an error that I cannot yet identify, and you are suffering the consequences."

He paused, his dark eyes fixed on her still form. She did not turn to face him. 

"Wallowing in self-pity will not change anything," he continued, his tone sharp. “But you must understand that this — this is not your fault.” 

At this, Miss Evans finally rolled over to glare at him, her obsidian eyes flashing in the dim light. She opened her mouth as if to retort, then snapped it shut again, her lips pressing into a thin, angry line.

Severus met her furious gaze, unflinching. "You cannot speak, and your heart is weak, which means your magic is unstable. You cannot risk straining yourself and risk damaging it further. These are facts, not judgments. Railing against reality will not alter it."

Miss Evans sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around her waist and reached for the blasted chalkboard once more. 

The Patronus potion is pure Light magic. 

He looked up at Miss Evans, his black eyes hard. "Yes, it is. And your point?"

She snatched the board back, erasing the words with a furious swipe of her sleeve before scribbling again, the chalk scraping harshly against the slate.

So why did it almost kill me?

Severus exhaled sharply through his nose. "I've told you, there was an unseen interaction —” 

Miss Evans slammed the chalkboard down on the bed between them, cutting him off. She jabbed a finger at her previous question, her meaning clear.

"I don't know," Severus snapped, his frustration boiling over. "Is that what you want to hear?  I — don’t — know. I've been analyzing it for days, trying to determine what went wrong, where I made a mistake, and I've found nothing. Not a single bloody thing."

Then it's not the potion. It's me.

"Don't be absurd. You are not inherently incompatible with Light magic. If anything, you have a natural affinity for it."

She shook her head vehemently, auburn hair flying.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. "You are not incompatible with Light magic.” he repeated. “The very notion is ludicrous and beneath you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing her. "No. You will let me finish. Your magical core is not tainted, or broken, or whatever other nonsense you've concocted in that overwrought mind of yours. You are a witch, and an adequate one at that. This setback does not change that fundamental truth."

Miss Evans stared at him, her obsidian eyes swirling with a maelstrom of emotions — frustration, despair, a flicker of tentative hope. She picked up the chalk with trembling fingers.

Then why can't I cast a Patronus? Even before the potion?

Severus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his dark gaze boring into hers. "Because, Miss Evans, the Patronus charm requires a depth of emotion that, quite frankly, you do not know how to wield. It has nothing to do with your magical ability and everything to do with your emotional immaturity."

Her nostrils flared. 

That’s not fair. 

"You think your suffering makes you unique?" he snapped. "That your pain gives you some special insight the rest of us mere mortals cannot possibly comprehend?"

She erased her previous message with a violent swipe.

That’s not what I mean and you know it. 

"I know you better than you know yourself," Severus sneered. "A petulant child, so wrapped up in your own misery that you cannot see beyond the end of your nose.”

She recoiled as if he'd slapped her. For a moment, hurt flashed across her sharp features before it was replaced by a mask of icy fury.

You’re a foul git. 

Severus' lip curled. "And you are an insolent brat. But by all means, continue to wallow in self-pity. It's clearly serving you so well."

She wiped the board clean with a vicious swipe of her palm and wrote again, the chalk shrieking against the slate.

You have no idea what this is like. To feel empty. Powerless. Like a part of me is MISSING.

Severus met her furious gaze evenly. "You're right. I don't know precisely what you are experiencing, but I do intimately understand what it means to feel powerless in the face of circumstances beyond your control."

She blinked rapidly, thrown off balance by his sudden shift in tone. The chalk hovered over the board for a long moment before she slowly wrote out:

How?

He looked away, jaw clenching. Memories flashed through his mind unbidden — 

Cowering before his father's raised fist, the sickening crack of bone — 

— his mother's vacant stare as she lay unmoving on the kitchen floor — 

— Lily's cold dismissal, the finality in her green eyes as she turned her back on him — 

— a windy hilltop under a starless sky — 

Severus stood abruptly, his dark robes swirling around him. He strode over to the window, resting his palms on the stone sill as he gazed out into the inky blackness of the night. The moon hung low and full, casting a sickly yellow glow over the Forest's skeletal tree line. An icy breeze whistled through the cracks in the ancient panes, raising goosebumps on his skin.

He exhaled slowly, watching his breath fog the glass. The memories receded like a dark tide, leaving behind only a hollow ache in his chest. He could feel Miss Evans' eyes boring into his back, her unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air between them. But he would not - could not - give her the answers she sought. Those scars ran too deep, the wounds still raw and festering after all these years.

"Come here," he said finally, his voice a low rumble in the stillness.

There was a long pause, then the soft shuffling of footsteps as she crossed the room to stand beside him. Severus kept his gaze fixed on the shadowy grounds, studiously avoiding her searching eyes.

Miss Evans stood silently at his side, the chalkboard clutched to her chest. She shifted restlessly, her fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against the slate.

After a long moment, she reached up and touched his sleeve, the barest brush of fingertips against wool. Severus stiffened but did not pull away. Her hand hovered there, tentative, seeking permission. When he made no move to stop her, she slowly slid her palm down his forearm until her fingers curled around his wrist.

He looked down at her then, at the slim, pale hand resting against the black fabric. Her skin was startlingly white in the moonlight, the blue veins visible beneath the translucent surface.

She lifted the chalkboard to him. 

I’m not angry with you.

He felt the sudden urge to laugh, a bitter, broken sound that lodged in his throat. Of course she wasn't angry with him.

Severus forced himself to meet her gaze. Her obsidian eyes were luminous in the moonlight, filled with a swirling mix of emotions he couldn't begin to untangle. Despair, frustration, a desperate plea for understanding. For a fleeting moment, he saw another pair of dark eyes superimposed over hers — eyes that had once looked back at him with the same raw vulnerability, wishing to make it all — better. 

His chest constricted painfully. He tore his gaze away, fixing it once more on the night-shrouded grounds. "You should be," he said hollowly. "I am the reason you're in this state."

Miss Evans shook her head, erasing the chalkboard with quick, jerky movements. She began writing again, the chalk scratching harshly against the slate.

It was an accident. You were trying to help me.

Severus let out a sharp exhale through his nose. "My intentions are irrelevant. The outcome remains the same."

She underlined the word "accident" several times, the chalk squeaking. Then she turned the board to face him again.

I don't blame you. 

He stared at the words, his jaw clenched tight. The sincerity in them made something twist painfully in his gut. She had every right to rage at him, to curse his name and wish him a thousand painful deaths. Instead, she offered him absolution he did not deserve.

"Your forgiveness is misplaced," he ground out. "I am unworthy of it."

Miss Evans made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. She wiped the board clean with an impatient swipe of her sleeve.

It's not about worthiness. I'm telling you how I feel.

Severus finally turned to face her fully, his black eyes boring into hers. "And I'm telling you that your feelings are misguided. You are young and naive, with no concept of the magnitude of my failings."

Miss Evans glared at him, two spots of angry color appearing on her pale cheeks. She jabbed the chalk at the board.

I'm not a child. Stop treating me like one.

"Then stop behaving like one," he snapped. "Wallowing in self-pity, lashing out in petulant fits, refusing to heed the instructions of those trying to aid your recovery — these are the tantrums of a spoiled brat, not a rational adult."

Her mouth fell open in indignation, obsidian eyes flashing with hurt and fury. For a moment Severus thought she might hurl the chalkboard at his head. He braced himself for an eruption, for the board to go flying, to feel the sting of her palm against his cheek.

But it never came. Instead, she closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration as if wrestling some internal demon into submission. When she opened them again, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a cold, steely resolve.

She lifted the chalk to the board and wrote with slow, deliberate strokes.

I forgive you, you great git. You promised you’d let me. 

"You impossible, infuriating girl," he muttered. 

Miss Evans' lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. She tapped the board with the chalk.

You forgot brilliant and charming.

“I’d say delusional.” 

Runs in the family.

[stripedstarsblueflags]

i feel so high school (au) pt. 5.C: pierresteban

anyway here are some high school aus for my fav f1 rpf ships and an exploration of who knows how to ball, and who knows aristotle

(pierresteban continued)

ANYWAY so after that particular dance both of their heads are just like !!??!!??!! until finally they're both outside the studio and esteban starts walking away immediately and pierre– actually yknow what i'm gonna write a bit how the conversation more or less goes

p: hey. esteban. ESTIE!

e (whirling around): don't FUCKING call me that! .... what?!

p: hey, can... can we talk?

e (mind exploding in anger and frustration and confusion and need to retreat): i have nothing to say to you. –– and i need to catch the bus.

p: this late?

e (scoffs): yeah, sorry, my lexus is in the shop.

p: i can give you a ride...

and because esteban is shellshocked and not thinking straight and tired and fine maybe he's weak to his own stupid imagination he says yes. and esteban can't decide if it's creepy or achingly sweet that pierre remembers where his house is and doesn't make a single wrong turn or ask for directions once. and then they just sit in the parked car far enough down the street that esteban's parents couldn't see and just stare straight ahead and the silence stretches on with everything they haven't said confessed screamed at each other for years until pierre just mumbles in the most broken voice esteban has heard since they were kids and pierre's dog died

he tells esteban what happened, why he missed school. what he lost.

and the conversation is awkward and hesitant and walking on broken glass because they haven't had an actual sit-down conversation alone for years but esteban knows instinctively like this is killing him. after all this time i'm still the only person he trusts with the fractured pieces of his heart and he has to fucking tell someone because this is destroying him inside and maybe he just reaches out and puts his hand on the console in between the seats so it's there if pierre wants it and pierre does

pierre just reaches over and closes his eyes and takes esteban's hand and squeezes it and they're both pretending like pierre's face isn't shining with tears that glint in the flickering street lights and there's more silence but this time it's different, it feels like they're both thinking the exact same thing but both too scared

e: it's getting late...

p: yeah, yeah, sorry. you should probably go. (draws his hand away)

e: looks down at his own empty hand, then at the car door handle: yeah.

[waiting]

before he can chicken out esteban leans over and kisses pierre on the cheek before he says goodnight and then he gets out of the car

and in the following weeks they don't know how to talk to each other but they both know that something's going on, there's a spark catching and they're both terrified of the light but irrepressibly drawn to the heat. maybe they both sign up for an hour or so of empty studio time a week to practice and maybe there's only one studio available that late at night and they both know it. maybe they do more partner routines maybe they do the same choreo maybe they watch each other in the mirror for a little too long. pierre drives esteban home every week and then it gets to the point where he picks esteban up from class even on the days pierre doesn't have class himself and they start finding places around town that become their places just at night. places they remember. a park, a 7-11, a hiking trail, a waffle house (because nothing says teenage queer romance like waffle house)

esteban gets selected for the solo routine in that year's recital and the first time he practices his routine on stage/in full costume it's just him and pierre and pierre watches cross-legged from the very edge of the stage and when esteban finally finished pierre stands up and he's openly crying, and esteban's out of breath and dizzy from dancing his fucking heart out and he just gasps like, "what?" because even after everything he's never seen pierre look at him like that and pierre just shakes his head in shock and awe and murmurs, "you're beautiful"

we all know what happens after that

[cebwrites]

but through all of the sorrow (we were riding high)

oc x canon word count: 1.2k

Hyou was twenty four when the Uchiha clan fell, when Shisui died and took their brother's spirit with him to the grave.

Just a few years prior, they were consoling their team mates over the death of Hizashi Hyuga after he took the fall for his brother. Azura, who just lost his safety net from their sensei as a single parent, and Sou, who was determined not to feel anything over this but Hyou wouldn't let him.

Ironic, since Hyou never really was able to process their emotions from back then because of how busy they were with everything else, all things considered. They lost their ninken, Hairomaru and Shiromaru, around this time as well but similarly bottled those feelings up to unpack on a sunnier day that never came.

After the incident with his partner, Tae goes numb, exponentially so after Danzo orders him to be brought down to T&I and interrogated for "suspected colluding with conspirators".

He shuts down and rejects all interaction for a while, let alone help.

Hyou breaks up with Ibiki because the sight of him right now makes them sick. How could they continue seeing a man who just stood by while their brother was being tortured? The siblings' relationship continued to fray, even as Tae slowly, very unwillingly started to interact with people again. Takashi trying to get his twin to see their father's side of things doesn't help, well meaning as it is.

They were pulling their hair out trying to keep this dysfunctional little family together but what the hell was Jiraiya doing while everything went to hell anyway.

So when Kakashi comes over one night to bother Hyou, they don't really have the energy to tell him to fuck off and mean it.

"I'm not in the mood to entertain you tonight, 'Kashi. Go home."

"Nah, don't feel like it." Kakashi answers easily from the spot on the floor where he's made himself comfortable, utterly unperturbed by the mild suggestion to leave. If they really wanted him gone, they would've physically tossed him out by now.

So he continued to needle, all from behind the hard cover of that borderline deadbeat's cheesy smut novel.

"I ate the crackers in your pantry, by the way."

"Do you think that one sushi place still delivers this late?"

"Get me some water, please."

The sound of shattering glass made Kakashi quickly rise to his feet, spotting his childhood friend crouched over the broken, wet pile in their kitchen. Guilt swirled in his gut at the realization that they still tried to go along with his stupid, childish whims, even as exhausted as they were.

Whatever half-baked, initial plan to annoy Hyou into being vulnerable with him, since neither were particularly good at being sincere with each other, obviously didn't pan out as well as Kakashi had liked. In a time when Hyou was probably looking for comfort, some kind of respite from the back to back stressors in their life, he went and made the poor bastard cry.

Shit. He might've gone too far this time.

Kakashi led them to the couch while a shadow clone cleaned up th—well, his—mess.

The silence was painfully awkward between them, broken only by the audible muffled sobs coming through Hyou's hands. When they finally did speak, it was through a strangled noise of frustration; heavy with emotions too difficult to vocalize through anything but angry tears.

"This sucks so much...! I can't do anything for Tae even as his older sibling. I couldn't do anything for Neji after sensei died either."

"Mmhm."

"I hate that it hurt to break up with that useless Morino. Fuck him to hell and back."

"Mm."

"You suck shit at this, Bakashi. Damn it. I just wanna hold Shiro and Hairo again."

"Yeah, I know."

Kakashi felt the wind get sucked out of him with that one. That much he was aware of, but the least he could do was sit with them until they were finished venting. He felt partially responsible, always assuming that they'd just be able to pick themself back up, but it must have been a while since anyone properly checked in on Hyou if it got this bad.

Still, he stayed there for them. Stilted and slightly uncomfortable as his presence was, it was welcome.

Later in the night, Kakashi left to grab some grub from whatever was still open. Hyou made a point to mention that their house had a door that he could knock on before entry, instead of poofing in and out of their living room unannounced. Though Kakashi paid no mind to the comment, the silence that they ate in was a little more amicable than before.

--

At the same time, second chances were just around the corner.

Hyou and Genma had fooled around often in their early twenties - explorations of their bodies, sexualities, relationship dynamics; though they weren't each other's firsts, they figured out a lot about themselves through one another.

The only snag was one night when that "what are we" talk eventually happened, they weren't on the same page.

One half wanted to keep it casual out of fear of ruining the friendship and the other wanted stability, neither were at fault, just incompatible at the time. Though it would be a lie to say that Hyou felt no sting at their partner's, "we're fine as is now, right?"

Genma had his turn feeling that dull ache a few weeks later at their responding, "sorry, Gen, I don't think this is going to work," while pulling away from him at one of their usual hangouts - secluded for privacy, among other things.

They had a gradual but clean break, no hard feelings, and went onto date other people. Whatever weird, yearning for the closeness that they previously shared and took for granted but whose absence felt haunting, went swiftly ignored. Both parties agreed to see other people, that was the end of it.

By the time Hyou was crying in their living room over broken glass, among other things, enough time had passed that sparks began to form when they brushed against each other again - the two tokujo found themselves subconsciously gravitating to the other's presence, their feet guiding them to old hangouts when they were kids - and while their friend groups were never all that different, they found excuses to be around each other even more.

Weeks of build up led to them sneaking into the attic of Genma's house while his dad was out of town, slightly tipsy, like they were silly teenagers again; and being fair, this whole affair brought up silly teenage feelings in both of them.

Adults nearing their mid twenties trying not to get caught by one of their parents, ridiculous. The laughter between kisses they produced was infectious.

As much fun as it was, however, Hyou had to pump the breaks before Shiranui's hand slid too far up their uniform.

"Gen, wait, hold on."

"Wai.. what's wrong?" Hyou sat back on their elbows as Genma put a little distance between them, just enough to breathe but unwilling to wholly pull away from their warmth.

"I can't do this again, we're not kids fooling around anymore. I don't wanna be just your 'sometimes'."

Subconsciously, Genma had started feeling around for his senbon - something to ground him or maybe a distraction if it the news was really that heavy - finding the quiet answer in their eyes, a need for reassurance, he lent forward to rest his forehead against the crook of Hyou's neck.

"Dumbass. Who said I was jus' fooling around."

If anyone noticed the two tokujo leaning towards each other a little more when they bickered the next week, or one coming to deliver the other's lunch and drag them out to eat, no one made a peep about it.

Hyou was also at least mildly aware of some gender discrepancies within themself around the first time they messed around with Genma, even asking if he'd be bothered by it - the answer was no, their gender being null had no change to his bisexuality - but they wouldn't really be open about it to anyone aside from him until that Kakashi makes them crack later down the line.

[floaroma-sanctuary]

♬ - a friend/best friend memory

I was absolutely terrified. It was my first time ever being in a different region alone, and it was especially scary because this one was one I'd never been to before. I was doing some "study abroad" program for a couple of years. I'd be assisting Professor Jacq in his research until I returned to Professor Birch's side as a Professor's Assistant.

I was sitting under a tree along the edges of the cliffs not far outside of Medali, looking out over the plains and the river. I was 15 and had just broken up with my first ever boyfriend over the phone, long story in and of itself.

Honestly, I couldn't help it. I was heartbroken and sobbing, with only Blaze to comfort me. He was a Combusken at that point, but we were both still so young.

"Hey, what's wrong?" A voice interrupted my sobs.

I looked up, wiping my eyes. When I could see again, I was staring up at a very tall, skinny boy about my age. He had short, messy dyed black hair with red roots and bright brown eyes ringed with black eyeliner. He was tan with smatterings of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His left eye brow had two piercings, and his ears were littered with them all up the edges and in his lobes. He was wearing a baggy black T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, grey ripped skinny jeans with a set of chains looping down, and black combat boots laced loosely. There was a Charcadet hiding behind his legs.

The boy gave me a lopsided grin, flexing his arms. "What? Stunned by how cool I am?"

I couldn't help but laugh. It just burst out of me. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to laugh!"

"'s all good!" He plopped down onto the ground next to me. "So, what's wrong?"

"It's stupid." I wiped my eyes.

"If it's stupid, you wouldn't be crying about it. I'm a complete stranger. Not like I know enough to judge you." He propped his elbow on his knee and his head on his hand, looking at me.

"Well... I started dating this guy not long before I left home, and he just dumped me over the phone... Because he didn't want to date long distance and accused me of cheating on him because I'm so far away. I've never dated anyone before or even kissed someone, so how could I cheat on him?" I shook my head, taking my glasses off to clean them on my shirt before putting them back on.

"Sounds like he's just an insecure dumbass." The boy agreed.

"He is! I don't know what I saw in him!" I shouted in frustration, throwing my hands out. Blaze chirped and draped himself over my lap.

"He doesn't deserve you." He nodded sagely.

"He doesn't, does he?" I laughed, sticking my hand out to him to shake. "I'm Beaumont Rosalba, but you can call me Beau."

"I'm Haven Parrilla. What brings you to Paldea?" He shook my head, that lopsided grin making another appearance.

"I'm here on work study with Professor Jacq. We'll be going up into the pass to study Pokémon found in the caves." I explained, feeling very relaxed around him despite only knowing him for a few minutes.

"Oh, cool! My mom's on that exhibition. Guess we'll be stuck together for a couple of weeks." Haven patted the head of his Charcadet.

"I think I can survive that." I laughed. He elbowed me playfully.

A woman's voice called from the edge of town. "Haven! Come on, it's time for lunch!"

Haven stood and offered me his hand. "Hungry? My mom is a really good cook."

"Yeah, I think I can eat. Thanks." I let him help me up, and we headed back towards Medali, laughing and joking around together. And you know what? I had completely forgotten about some idiot guy back in Hoenn.

[wild-karrde]

I cannot tell you how much I have my fingers and toes and all the appropriate appendages crossed that the ship (lol pun intended?) starts to right itself this chapter. I TRUST YOU, but also COME ON WOLFFE AND KAZI. I BELIEVE IN YOOOOOU.

Kazi was tired.

GIRL SAME. But also, the big sister thing of trying to just carry too much while doing nothing to lighten your own emotional load. YEAH. IT WEARS ON YOU until it BREAKS YOU DOWN. And I see that so much in the way Kazi can't hide how hurt she is by Daria. And by how much she hurt Daria.

But it hurt. To see the contempt in her little sister. To bear the responsibility for their broken bond. To know she had hurt Daria—she had hurt her little sister. 

YUP YUP YUP. BIG OUCH.

ALRIGHT. HERE WE GO. CLEARING THE AIR TIME. And OOOOF it is a doozy. Kazi not realizing that she abandoned Daria, Daria feeling like Kazi hated her, and if that was true, then the best thing she could do was to find her someone to love and someone that would care for her where Daria couldn't. Daria not realizing that Kazi upended everything because of her love for her sister, not out of some honor-bound family duty, but because of how much she cares. Years of misunderstanding and missed opportunities all getting dumped out in this garden just AHHHHH IT HURTS AND IS SO GOOD.

“I’m scared, Kazi.” Daria breathed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m scared I’m going to forget those moments. I don’t want to forget when you were alive.”

Well that's just a dagger to the heart. WHEW.

As a seedling required attention, patience, and effort, so too would reconciliation. It wasn’t something that would sprout overnight. It was something they would have to cherish and protect and choose. Over and over again.  So, together, they planted the first seed.

YES GARDEN METAPHORS. YES RECONCILIATION. I LOVE IT ALLLLLL.

AND NOW AN APOLOGY FOR WOLFFE? AND HE SAYS SORRY FIRST? You're spoiling me, Alli. Truly.

AND THEN HE CALLS HER BY HER FIRST NAME??? WE'RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS??? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Most people claimed crying was cathartic, a pleasant release of emotions. Not for her. Crying was humiliating. Draining. She hated the uncontrollable sensation of sobs wracking her spine and clawing their way from her lungs. She hated the headache it always spurned.  Most of all, though, she hated crying in front of others. She hated knowing they could see.

I swear to GOD Kazi is VERY ME at times, and this is one of those times. It's frustrating when you're someone that likes to be in control and your emotions get the better of you, reveal that you don't have everything together, betray you. I GET THAT. And I get hating people see your facade crack. WHEW.

Her gaze drifted to his mouth, and as he stilled, she wondered what it would be like to turn off her mind. To damn the consequences and lose herself. Just for a moment. To learn what his mouth would feel like on hers, what it would feel like on her neck, on her breasts, between her thighs—

LOSING MY MARBLES ONCE AGAIN.

AND HE HAS SEEDS FOR NEYTI. MY HEART. AND SHE GRABS HIS HAND AHHHHHHHHHLGdh;lkhGLKSHDLK:GHLKHD:LKG.

Yearning for— Oh. Oh.

I AM CACKLING MANIACALLY. I HAVE GONE FULL GREMLIN MODE. I AM UNHINGED. I AM UNWELL. I AM ASCENDED. ALLLIIIIII I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH.

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XV

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | A Muse | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.4K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

14 Yelona

Kazi was tired. 

She was tired of arguments. Tired of responsibility. Tired of the conflictual, pathetic emotions roiling inside of her, like the ocean fraught with a coming storm yet unable to truly form. 

Most of all, she was tired of the guilt gnawing on her, wearing away her mind until, soon, nothing would remain of her. 

Resentment constricted her lungs and twisted her thoughts. It itched in a place she couldn’t reach, persistent and frustrating. Unignorable.  

Her emotions, meticulously maintained and carefully locked away, wanted to escape. The signs were obvious last night. 

But the problem with repressed emotions—the problem with being told since she was a little girl that emotions were bad and not to be expressed—was their tendency to erupt. Too much time locked away and they grew frustrated. 

Repressed emotions concerning Daria, outside of their arguments, were months in the making. 

Kazi knew her emotions were too volatile this morning. And yet she couldn’t bother to halt her trek out the backdoor.

Foggy gray of early dawn cooled the morning temperature. The fog, heavy and thick, haunted the jungle surrounding the house. Dew speckled fern stalks and tree leaves, splashing her bare legs as she stalked around the side of the house to Daria’s garden. 

Daria was kneeling in freshly-churned soil, planting new seedlings. Loose long sleeves and trousers protected her from the morning chill, though sweat still blotted her forehead. Hair tied back, she appeared content. Serene. 

It was the packet of seeds beside Daria—a packet similar to the one currently sitting on her nightstand—that made Kazi pause. If she hadn’t seen her own packet of seeds only a few minutes ago, she would have blamed Daria for stealing them. 

Did Wolffe gift her sister seedlings for the Harvest Festival, too?

The question contained too many possibilities she didn’t want to consider this early in the morning and after her argument with Wolffe. She reconcentrated on the object in her hand, feeling rattled and out of place. 

“I have your potion,” Kazi said.

Shoulders stiffening, Daria lifted her face, her scowl dark with umbrage. 

Green eyes devoid of their usual warmth, Daria extended a hand. Kazi stepped into the enclosed garden and handed her sister the potion. Once finished, Daria thrust the bottle back at her, not once looking in her direction. 

Usually Kazi would walk away. Shut herself in her room and seethe at Daria’s behavior. Scream at her sister in her head. Call out Daria on every single shitty thing she had done in their lifetimes.  

Instead, Kazi pocketed the potion. “Why didn’t you accept my Festival gift?” 

She was searching for a fight. Seeking out a means to release her resentment. But she didn’t care. She was tired of caring so fucking much. 

“I was trying to be a good sister,” she said. And though she wanted to sound annoyed, dismissive, her tone was far too brittle. Far too hurt. 

Refusing to even look in Kazi’s direction, Daria glowered at a spindly plant, her gloved hands fisted atop her thighs. 

“I was trying to bridge this gap between us.” Kazi folded her arms across her chest, her emotions frothing and snapping. “I’m trying every day. And you brushed me off like it meant nothing.”

Her voice broke on the last word and she pressed a palm against forehead, ordering herself not to cry. Lack of sleep, tension with Wolffe, guilt concerning Neyti were crushing her. Pressing through skin and muscles and bones, grounding her into nothing more than dust.

But it hurt. To see the contempt in her little sister. To bear the responsibility for their broken bond. To know she had hurt Daria—she had hurt her little sister. 

Kazi dug her fingernails into her biceps. “I’m trying to fix things—”  

“That is the problem,” Daria snapped. Pushing herself to her feet, she glared at Kazi. “You’re trying to bridge the gap when you don’t understand why the gap exists. It’s unhelpful and a waste of time.”

“I know why the gap exists.” She dropped her hand to her sides, fisting them tightly. “It’s existed ever since I left home. You changed then and you haven’t been the same since.”

“I have been different?”

“Yes.”

Daria stared at her incredulously. “You were different, Kazi. You have been different ever since Papa died.”

The fog seemed to thicken and the jungle quieted. It held its breath, thick leaves and elder trees listening, waiting. 

“You disappeared after Papa died,” Daria said, her voice trembling. “You were there, physically, but you weren’t really there. I tried so hard to help you—to support you and be there for you—but you shut me out. You weren’t there for me anymore.”

Kazi released a cynical breath. “I was a kid, Daria, and I was grieving. It wasn’t my responsibility to take care of you.”

“I didn’t want you to take care of me!”

Raw emotion hoarsened Daria’s voice. She stared at Kazi with such distressed anguish it was as palpable as the wetness of the fog. 

“I wanted to be with you.” Daria threw up her hands. “I wanted to sit in your room with you while you hid. I wanted to walk to the harbor with you, and visit the lighthouse with you. I only wanted to be with you. I gave you space to mourn Papa, but giving you space turned into months and then years, until I realized you no longer cared for me.”

Memories from that time swarmed the back of her mind. Kazi remembered a soft-spoken girl knocking quietly on her bedroom door, leaving dessert in the hallway, offering to visit the sailboat, asking to watch the storms. 

Years of the soft-spoken girl longing after a sister who was too numb to feel or care.

“I thought I had done something to make you hate me.” Daria’s throat bobbed and she wiped at her cheek. “We were no longer friends, and then you disappeared. You left me. I knew at that moment that what we had no longer existed. I was no longer important to you, and I accepted that.” 

You left me.

The words echoed hollowly in her head, and Kazi froze. 

How long had she feared getting close to others knowing they would eventually leave? How long had she resented Papa for dying and abandoning them?

All those years keeping others at arms-length to protect herself from abandonment, and she had abandoned her little sister. 

Mist caressed Daria’s honeyed hair, wetting her lips and eyelashes. “I still wanted you to be okay. You didn’t have friends. You shut everyone out. So I thought if you no longer wanted to spend time with me, then I would find someone who would take care of you. Because you were lonely and I didn’t want to see you so unhappy.” 

“I isolated myself for a reason.” Kazi rubbed her arm, the chill of the mist seeping into her body. “And I only have myself to blame for my lack of relationships. So you shouldn’t have felt bad for me—”

“I loved you,” Daria whispered. “I loved you more than anyone, and I wanted to see you happy.” 

“Daria—” 

Daria raised a hand to silence her. 

“I met potential suitors.” A mirthless smile twisted Daria’s face. “I vetted them based on your personality. I looked for men who were kind and respectable. Men with a good work ethic. Men spoken highly of, because you deserved the best. I knew you no longer loved me, but I thought I could find someone who would take care of you. Someone who would make you feel happy.”

“Daria.” Kazi stared at her sister incredulously. “I have always loved you.”

Her sister scoffed. “There’s no need to lie—”

“Everything I have done the past year has been for you,” she said, gesturing to the house. “When you fell ill, I returned home. When Mama became distraught, I intervened. When the healers said there was no hope, I sought medicine and help because I refused to give up on you. I am trying to start a new life for you. Everything I do is for you.”

Daria’s smile turned sad, placating. “You do that out of duty, Kazi. Not because you love me—”

“Don’t say that.” Kazi shook her head disbelievingly. “Don’t fucking say that.”

“Ever since I fell ill, I have been nothing of consequence. I’m a burden to you. I won’t be here for much longer—”

“Stop it.”

“I won’t be,” Daria insisted. “And I don’t want to leave you in this world alone because you have lost everyone and it hurts me to look at you.”

“Daria—” 

“I look at you and I no longer see the sister I admired. The sister I loved. I no longer see the Kazi who snuck around the harbors, the Kazi who spent her weekends sailing. I no longer see the Kazi who told me stories late at night because I was scared of the thunder, and the Kazi who took me out dancing every time it rained. I thought you might find that person again if you had someone in your life who could help you carry your burdens. Someone who cared for you.”

Stricken speechless, Kazi could only stare at her sister. All this time she thought Daria wanted her to marry because of tradition. Because of their upbringing. 

She should have known Daria’s personal interest was driven by something more. 

“I’m scared, Kazi.” Daria breathed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m scared I’m going to forget those moments. I don’t want to forget when you were alive.”

A tear slid down her cheek and Kazi looked away. 

Because it had been years since she truly felt alive, and when she tried to remember its warmth and comfort, disappointment and self-hatred made themselves known. Two shadows leaching the life from her.

“I tell Neyti stories about you.” Daria regarded her with a sunken appearance, the planes of her face dull and harried. “I want her to know you. I want her to know you the way I knew you. That’s why I asked her to draw that photo of us. I wanted to show her who you truly are.”

Energy and warmth and anger dissipated from her body and Kazi sighed, her bones sagging. Wariness guarded Daria’s gaze, as if her sister expected her to react coldly. Cruelly. 

“You’ve never been a burden,” Kazi said hoarsely. “And I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” 

Daria blinked her surprise, and Kazi mentally berated herself. Had she really been so apathetic and closed-off from Daria the past years that apologizing was shocking?

“I’m sorry I…disappeared after Papa’s death.” She searched her sister’s gaze. “I’m sorry I left you without warning. I’m sorry I ignored you for years. I’m sorry I haven’t stopped to talk to you, or listen, or just be there for you. I’m sorry.”

Kazi let her hand drift to one of the spindly plants, the fuzz of the stem tickling her palm. A piece of her wanted to reach for Daria, to close the distance between them, to hold her sister’s hand one more time. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. 

“I pulled away because I couldn’t stomach the thought of disappointing you. The thought of failing you…” She shrugged, laughing hollowly. “I couldn’t bear it—I didn’t want to bear it. I pulled away, not because of anything you did, but because I didn’t want to fail you. And now this gap exists and I don’t know what to do. The thought of losing you—”

Choking on a renewed surge of emotion, Kazi closed her eyes and tilted her face to the foggy sky, breathing in through her nose. Exhaling through her mouth. 

Less than a year and a half remained before Daria passed. Her sister’s memory would start to worsen and fade in six months. So much time had been lost and so little remained.

“I dream sometimes,” Daria interrupted her thoughts and Kazi opened her eyes. Her sister raised a hand and played with a wisp of mist. “I dream of the lighthouse, of the two of us sitting up there while a storm rolls in.”

A soft smile smoothed her features and she closed her eyes, like she could envision the dream. Envision a time when the lighthouse was their safe place and reality didn’t exist, and pain and heartache and bitterness were concerns for adults. 

A time when two little girls played and laughed and dreamt of happy wonders.

“I dream of us sharing our citrus-stars, and the tales you would tell me of the dragons.” Her voice was wistful, gentle, like the whisper of a breeze. “I dream of the waves lapping at my feet, and the sand between my toes, and the warmth of the sun on my skin and the way it always reminded me of home. Sometimes I swear I can still smell the ocean.”

Daria’s eyelashes fluttered open, the green of her eyes glassy. “I hate waking up. I’m so tired. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of not talking. I’m tired of avoiding one another. I want to go back to the lighthouse and never leave.” 

Deep down, Kazi did too. But she refused to admit it.

Enshrouded by an impenetrable fog, the two sisters considered one another. 

The fracture in their relationship was overt in the ragged lines around their eyes, the honesty Kazi withheld, the way they relied on themselves for comfort rather than one another.

They would never return to their former innocence and naïve adoration. Mutual hurt and wariness kept them at bay. 

But they could start anew. Try to nurture a new dynamic. 

Kazi wanted it. She wanted it badly.

So she knelt near the freshly-churned hole Daria had dug and a moment later, her sister settled beside her, retrieving her trowel. Kazi’s hands trembled slightly. 

As a seedling required attention, patience, and effort, so too would reconciliation. It wasn’t something that would sprout overnight. It was something they would have to cherish and protect and choose. Over and over again. 

So, together, they planted the first seed.

Missing her usual swim wasn’t as harrowing as Kazi typically imagined. A quiet hour in the garden with Daria proved a necessary reprieve from her routine. Her head felt clearer, and her chest lighter.

Kazi was lost to her thoughts—thoughts of relief, subtle hope for the coming months—as she wandered into the house. She was so consumed by her musings she didn’t notice Wolffe standing beside the kitchen bar. Less than a meter separated them when she finally came to her senses and faltered to a stop.

Wolffe stood straight, his stance wide. Determination hardened his gaze.

Their argument the night before dampened her new-found relief and Kazi bit the inside of her cheek. She thought Wolffe would avoid her, again, this morning.

In hindsight, her assumption was blatantly inaccurate and disingenuous to his character. Wolffe confronted conflict in order to find a solution. He had an overbearing need to understand the intricacies of things around him and a level-headed desire to confront issues, determine their problems, and then fix them. 

When it came to Wolffe, Kazi knew she couldn’t avoid their argument. She couldn’t pretend their argument hadn’t left her reeling and resentful; she couldn’t feign nonchalance and disinterest. 

She was also aware that her avoidance tactics, especially the unconscious list of grudges she kept in the back of her mind, were an unhealthy handling of conflict. A year in therapy explained the need to admit to feelings of hurt and betrayal rather than suppress them. 

However, she had a fatal flaw: hubris. 

She couldn’t admit to being hurt. It was a weakness. A vulnerability that would enable others to take advantage of her. Or, to see how pathetic she was and to abandon her. 

Suppressing emotions and avoiding conflict were her scapegoats. They had protected her for so long. 

Wringing her hands together, Kazi scanned the kitchen, avoiding Wolffe. A knife and cutting board, both damp with water, were drying on the counter. The bowl of chocolates was half-full. An overgrown plant trailed its vines to the hardwood floor. Finally, she glanced in Wolffe’s direction.

He regarded her, his expression unreadable, and tapped two fingers on the bar. He cleared his throat. 

“I’m sorry.”

His apology surprised her, and her eyes widened marginally. 

“I…overreacted,” Wolffe said. A twinge of discomfort grimaced his features and he rolled his shoulders back. Steady, unflinching eyes sought hers. “I had…expectations I now know were inaccurate. I was wrong to take my frustrations out on you.” 

The lowness of his tone, the hesitation in his pauses and the searching depth of his gaze, alerted her to something more. Something deeper behind his words. Like a confession spoken underwater. Some of it made sense. Other pieces left her confused. 

“You were right.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We’re nothing to each other. And I’m sorry for pushing the conversation.”

Regret dulled the vestige of her resentment, and in its wake, Kazi winced, raking a hand through her hair, wishing for the neat perfection of her braids. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she murmured, rubbing her chest. An attempt to quiet the remorse pinching her insides. “You’re not…nothing to me.”

Heat warmed her cheeks and she dropped her gaze, exhaling her frustration. She needed Wolffe to know she valued his presence in her life. She needed him to know he wasn’t nothing. 

He was…more. 

But she didn’t know how to define her feelings for him, much less explain them to him.

“I was frustrated with you,” she said. “And it came out wrong.” Her explanation still fell short—it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t. Hesitantly, she took a step toward him, searching his guarded features, silently begging for him to understand. To forgive her. “I was mad at myself for thinking you would join us. I took out my own anger on you, and I didn’t mean it. All of what I said—I didn’t mean any of it. I swear—you’re not nothing to me.” 

Brows furrowed, Wolffe observed her for a long moment. His gaze was full of calculation, and the longer he studied her, the more his underscored frustration revealed itself. The flaring of his nostrils. The scrunching of his eyes. The rigidity in his shoulders. 

He tapped his fingers against the bar. “I didn’t realize the hike meant that much to you.”

“It didn’t—”

“Don’t lie.” Wolffe took two steps toward her, close enough she could see the dark smudges beneath his eyes. “I know it did.”

“What do you want me to say? That it mattered to me?” She threw up her hands. “Because it did, Wolffe. It mattered to me. You promised, and I felt real fucking stupid getting my hopes up only for you to not show. And the worst part—the worst part is that I know the missions come first to you, that nothing else matters. So I had no right to be upset with you, and I overreacted. But you promised, and I couldn’t let that go.”

“I know what I promised.” His throat bobbed. “Does Neyti know…?”

“No.” A hint of relief relaxed his stiff posture. His arched brow demanded an explanation and Kazi shrugged. “I thought it could be a surprise, so I didn’t tell her beforehand, and I obviously didn’t tell her after.”

“The mission—”

“Always comes first,” she interrupted. “I know that, and I shouldn’t have been upset about it. I’m sorry.”

Displeasure pressed his lips together and Wolffe rubbed the back of his neck. “I chose the mission over you because I was frustrated. You wanted me there and I told you I would be. I regret going back on my promise.”

The honesty in his words made her shift uncomfortably between her feet. 

A self-deprecating smile tugged on her mouth. “After what happened with Neyti’s classmates’ parents, I was upset. I kept thinking if you had been there, then maybe things would have been different. It was easier to blame you rather than accept responsibility for my own actions.”

Wolffe stilled. “Something happened?” 

“It was nothing—”

“Ennari,” Wolffe growled. “What happened.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He returned her exasperated look with an equally reproving scowl. She sighed. “One of the mom’s said something rude about Neyti. She said it loud enough that Neyti overheard.”

Just the reminder of Eris's falsely sympathetic comment irked her.

“I should have walked away the moment those women wanted to talk,” she said, scoffing at her stupidity. “I should have known nothing good would come of it. But I thought… I thought maybe if they talked with me, then their kids would be more accepting of Neyti.” She clenched her fists behind her back. “I knew it was a bad idea, but I was so fucking stupid, and Neyti overheard everything, and I didn’t protect her—”

“Kazi.”

It took her too long to discern Wolffe through the blur of her gaze, and even longer to realize she was about to cry. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes open. Ordered the tears away. 

Most people claimed crying was cathartic, a pleasant release of emotions. Not for her. Crying was humiliating. Draining. She hated the uncontrollable sensation of sobs wracking her spine and clawing their way from her lungs. She hated the headache it always spurned. 

Most of all, though, she hated crying in front of others. She hated knowing they could see.

“Sorry.” Wiping at her eyes, Kazi cleared her throat, ignoring the humiliated flush in her face and neck. A tear tickled her palm. She loosed a shaky breath. “Sorry, I don’t know why—”

“You’re not a failure.”

Her chuckle was strained. “I know.”

Gently, Wolffe angled her chin back, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You’re not a failure.”

“I know,” she repeated. She didn’t want him to see this side of her. To see the broken mess lurking beneath her composed exterior. 

He lowered his face to hers, and he murmured, “I’m not going to abandon you and Neyti again.”

Raw promise quieted his words and softened his features, and Kazi believed him. It was funny, and curious, how she knew he meant it—how she trusted him. Funny and curious, but also alarming.

Wolffe traced his finger along her jaw, unhurried in his approach, as if acting subconsciously. She wanted to breach the minimal distance separating their bodies. To lean into the heat of his chest, listen to his heartbeat beneath her ear, and simply rest there. To not feel so alone. Just for a moment. 

Her gaze drifted to his mouth, and as he stilled, she wondered what it would be like to turn off her mind. To damn the consequences and lose herself. Just for a moment. To learn what his mouth would feel like on hers, what it would feel like on her neck, on her breasts, between her thighs—

“Ennari.” The warning in his voice, rough and low, brought her gaze back to his.

A loud thud jerked them apart. 

Kazi glanced at the staircase where Neyti, dressed in a pink dress, was straightening from her apparent jump. Satisfied with her landing, she waved. 

“Are you ready for breakfast?” Kazi asked, grinning.

Neyti nodded.

“Before that,” Wolffe said, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and retrieving a small packet. He dropped to a knee beside Neyti. “I have this for you.”

Intrigued, Kazi leaned forward, eyeing the small object. Her eyebrows raised in recognition. Similar to the packet on her nightstand, similar to the packet outside with Daria, Wolffe had bought Neyti her own seedlings.

The gesture was so thoughtful it rendered Kazi speechless. She could only stare at Wolffe, stare at the man who was watching Neyti, subtle apprehension lining his forehead. 

Neyti accepted the packet with shrewd interest. She brought it close to her ear and shook it softly. Seeds rattled inside. Her lips parted. She lifted her gaze to Wolffe’s, a silent question in her eager face. 

A chuckle eased the tension from Wolffe, and Kazi quietly laughed, too.

“I forgot to give it to you at the Festival,” Wolffe said, his eyes darting in Kazi’s direction. “We can plant them in the garden. Is that…all right?”

Appraising the packet of seeds, Neyti traced a tiny finger along the petals etched into the exterior. A small, yet dimpled grin brightened her face and she nodded at Wolffe. His sigh of relief went unnoticed by the little girl who showed Kazi her new packet.

“I bet they’ll be beautiful once they bloom,” Kazi said, fixing the ruffles on the sleeves of Neyti’s dress. “Maybe Mr. Wolffe will show you after breakfast—”

A fervent shake of her head and Neyti blinked wide, pleading eyes at her. Kazi raised an unimpressed eyebrow. She was about to lecture on the importance of breakfast but Neyti shifted her pleading gaze to Wolffe. 

Expecting Wolffe to refuse Neyti’s request, his hesitation shocked Kazi. He looked from Neyti to her, rubbing the back of his neck, and then pushed himself to his feet, nudging Kazi with his elbow.  

She sighed. “Fine. But don’t stay out too long.”

Neyti grinned wider and clapped her hands. 

Just as Kazi was turning toward the kitchen and Wolffe was making his way to the sunroom, she watched a tiny hand reach for a larger one. Wolffe stumbled, his spine stiffening and eyes narrowing. Cautiously, he regarded the hand in his. Neyti, oblivious to his hesitant assessment, shook her packet of seeds, tugging Wolffe forward.

Slowly, Wolffe closed his fingers around Neyti’s, his hand engulfing hers. The two wandered through the sunroom and out the backdoor. 

From the sunroom windows, Kazi watched them together, something warm and wistful blooming inside her. It poked through her heart and tugged. Gentle yet demanding. 

Frowning at the strange sensation, she massaged her chest. It was a feeling she attributed to her childhood.

A desire for the security and laughter and adventure of her youth.

Yearning. 

But it was no longer confined to the past. 

Like an extended hand grasping another in the midst of uncertainty, like fingers intertwining in search of connection and comfort, yearning squeezed her heart. 

Yearning for—

Oh.

Oh.

Masterlist | Chapter 14 | A Muse | Chapter 16

A/N: Read “A Muse” for additional story context.

Next chapter release – April 18th  

Artwork of Kazi and Daria by the lovely @eyecandyeoz!

Tag: @ulchabhangorm

[cherriizumi]

Little something I wanted to get off my brain and onto the canvas. Might do more with it later if I have the motivation.

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

I shouldn't, but I open the messages from you and read them over and over again until I can swear I hear your voice in them. The ghost of you walks the halls of this old house and plays back memories of jokes so bad that we couldn't help but laugh about. Your smile behind glass in picture frames is an ever constant reminder that I will only ever see you in glimpses of the past.

Glimpses like these old messages that I have memorized over these past months. All you had wanted to do was to spend time with me. Time that I thought I had plenty of with you. Each message that I left on read stings my chest. All my good memories with you are tainted with regrets now because I was too focused on me to see the hand you were trying to reach out to me with.

The messages begin to blur as my vision gets interrupted and my eyes start to sting; fresh hot tears rolling down my cheeks again. Frustrated, I wipe my eyes but they don't stop. I try to look at the ceiling, the shadows on the wall, the faint outlines of half packed boxes in the corner.. anything really to get my mind on something else. If my dehydrated ass kept crying like this my eyes would be swollen shut tomorrow..

-knock knock-

The silence of the room is broken when a gentle voice follows soon after the abrupt tap on a surface nearby. "Doe Eyes?" My heart grew cold for a moment at the shock of hearing someone at my window... on the 2nd floor.. at dark thirty at night. There was only one person who would call me by that nickname however, and that only made the situation a little better. "A-Alan?" The lump in my throat that grew while I was sobbing made it difficult to get even one word out. I swallowed, trying to push it down for my next word.

The window slid open with remarkable ease, which made me a bit envious if I was being honest. There had to be something said about this mountain man's strength..damn thing always gave me trouble when I tried to open it. But my attention was soon grabbed as I noticed he hadn't broken eye contact with me since announcing his presence. With the way open he hadn't even fully entered the room before he asked, "What's wrong? Why are you crying so hard?" He seemed to study my face, tilting his head as he asked another question. "Did someone upset you?" Huh.. maybe it was my imagination but did his voice get lower when he asked that?

Once he was safely inside the threshold of my room, he closed the window to keep the chill outside. With his back turned I couldn't help but notice the gentle outline the street lamp gave him, the soft glow of his silhouette against the night sky. There was something about him that made him a little mystical sometimes. Whenever I needed someone, or was feeling utterly alone, there he'd be. Ready to swoop in and make it all better... seeing him face me again, my heart ached for a different reason.

I held out a hand that he wasted no time in collecting. Getting close to sit besides me on the bed, Alan clasps my hand with such sweet tenderness and brings it to his lips before holding it to his chest. I feel one of his hands on the side of my face while his thumb wipes some remaining tears away. Almost on instinct, my face leans into his touch, his skin is cold from the night air and feels so good against the heat trapped in my cheeks.

I don’t remember much else from that night. All I know is that I fell asleep in Alan's arms after we talked about silly, unimportant things. He didn't press me about confessing the real reason I was upset, but I told him that when I was ready we could talk about it. And.. I knew he would be willing to listen to me. He always was. I still have so many regrets, but listening to my new flames heartbeat lull me to sleep definitely wasn't one of them...

[thatonedeadchick]

𝒞𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝒹𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓁 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Warnings⚠️ some angst, sad Camilo, but don't worry it's fluff at the end 🧡

Camilo stared at himself, his hazel eyes darting across his face. His nose, his mouth, his hair, and yet he still couldn't see it. He couldn't see Camilo.

That scared him, it scared him that he changed so often, pretending to be others in his everyday life that he didn't even know who he was anymore... Who Camilo was.

The more he looked at himself the more he hated what he saw, but he couldn't figure out why. Did he not like his nose? Eyes? His height? He didn't have a small cute button nose like his sister, he didn't have big curious eyes like his brother, he wasn't strong and tall like Luisa, wasn't elegant and graceful like Isabella, he wasn't good at expressing like Maribel... So what does he have? Tears started to fill his eyes, his nose slightly scrunched, eyebrows tweaked up, and his bottom lip taken between his teeth to stop it from quivering.

He was always someone else, every day for everything... He shifted to be taller when helping around the house and doing chores, he shifted into his sister for seconds when eating, he even shifted when babysitting the children in the village, he was always someone else.

Tears started to fall down his cheeks, falling faster and faster. He desperately tried to keep his breathing steady, vision going blurry as he tried not to blink, as he knew that would only make the tears fall faster and he was still hoping they would just go away. The more he stared into the mirror the more he had to fight the urge to smash it. He was a copycat... A doppelganger... What's the use of getting a gift as special as you when you weren't special at all, just a copy of someone else.

Copy

Shifter

Copycat

Shadow

Doppelganger

He fell to his knees head in his hands as he asked himself 'who is Camilo' over and over and over. His shoulders began to shake, putting his head down, fingers tapping feverishly on his dresser telling himself not to cry, but it was fruitless and his whimpers and soft cries left him.

"Camilo?" Camilo's head shot up from his hands, oh no it was you his amor, he couldn't let you see him like this. He hastily turned away from you frantically wiping the tears from his face and eyes, but the more he wiped them away more came falling.

His breath hurrying in frustration, only to stop when he felt your hand placed gently on his shoulder, he flinched hands shaking as he looked anywhere and everywhere but to you and your eyes, he couldn't look at you, he couldn't see your face of pity as you gazed down at him.

He could feel you kneel next to him and try to pull his shoulders to slowly turn him to face you, he took a deep shaky breath before turning to you giving you a broken smile, but as soon as the corners of his lips lifted he couldn't hold it and it dropped back into a quivering frown. 

"ay, mi pobre amor" you whispered as you pulled him into you, you rubbed his shoulders as you helps him stand walking him towards his bed, getting him to lay down with you. You pulled him in and he snuggled into your neck, as you began to run your fingers through his thick curls.

He let out a shaky hum of appreciation, closing his eyes. You kissed his forehead, pausing your hand running through his hair to brush some almost dried tears off his freckled cheeks giving him a small boop on his nose causing him to giggle.

"You are you, Camilo amor you are mi corazón, my one and only, my prankster with a heart and soul of gold. I see you, and I love you." You mumble the last part kissing his forehead, he smiled, a real smile. One that lit up your life every time you saw it without fail. You helped him turn over as you brought him impossibly closer to you, Camilo smiled he loved being the little spoon more they he let on.

And now he knows that even if he sometimes doesn't know who he is, he has you to remind him.

Goodbye my lovely readers, until we read again. 🧡

[aliasimagines]

It Was You All Along // Dave Lizewski

requested by a lovely anon 💕

Can u write dave x fem!reader where reader Always had a crush on him but he kinda ignored reader bc of Katie but then someone popular asks reader out and he gets jealous and y/n dresses up super hot and he realizes he fucked up

word count: 1809

a/n: i hope this is close enough! ❤️ (i couldn't think of a different title but this one reminds me of Agatha All Along xd)

"Hey, Dave! My folks are gone for the weekend and I thought we could have an X-men watch party. Wanna come?" 

"Sorry I can't, I'm hanging out with Katie." 

"Again?" you ask a bit louder than intended,causing a few people to look at you in the hallway. You continue with a lower voice "Aren't you like, tired of all the lying? Like, what if she finds out that you're not actually gay, hm? Cause you know she will, eventually." 

"Why do you care so much?!" Dave says, clearly frustrated. 

You raise an eyebrow. 

"Oh why would I? Maybe because we have been best friends since diapers, you stupid asshole!" you say not caring if some students hear you or not, anymore. "But you know what, you are right. I shouldn't care. Go play pretend with Katie but don't come to me, crying when you end up getting your heart broken." 

"Don't worry, I won't." he snaps back. And you turn around and leave but not before flipping him off. You felt the angry tears rolling down your cheeks as you zigzagged between the chattering teenagers. 

You couldn’t  believe how Dave could be so blind! He only had eyes for Miss Perfect. Whom by the way, is a real bitch and would go back to ignoring Dave or calling him a freak if it wasn’t for his little gay act. 

Somehow you made your way over to the restroom and locked yourself into one of the booths.

Dave couldn’t even see you as a potential “love-interest”. Eventhough you were the one who always were there for him, you were always there when he called, running to him like a lost puppy. And he couldn’t even care less. And you hate him for it. But you hate yourself more for still liking him. 

It’s not like you can do something about it, if you could, you would have. But that’s not how it works, so you are just crying your guts out on the toilet trying not to think about Dave.

In all honesty, you have no idea how you made it through the day. You almost cried during biology but you caught yourself after a few lonely tears. You could feel Dave’s gaze on you but there was no way you would look at him. As soon as the last bell rang you were out of school, hurring past Tod and Marty, not being in the mood for them either.

The next day wasn’t any different, you didn’t hang with Dave, Tod and Marty like you normally do. You didn’t sit with them at lunch, instead walked over to the only empty table you saw and placed your tray there. You mounched on your food, completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. You look up to see Matthew Greendale, resident hottie of the school sit next to you. 

"Hey, sorry, it's not a problem if I sit here, right?" he asks. You eyed him suspiciously. 

"No, it's fine." 

It's fine?! You mentally scold yourself. You never even spoke to this guy, outside of literature in first year. Why would he sit next to you? 

"I didn't want to sit with all the other "popular jocks" he answered you unspoken question while taking a bite of his canteen-hamburger. “They’re fun and everything but it’s nice to get away from them sometimes.”

You think of your friends who are sitting a few tables away and you can’t help but agree with Matthew.

“Yeah, I feel you.” you say without thinking.

“Hey..We used to sit next to each other in freshman year, didn’t we? It’s y/n ,right?” 

You nod with a smile, honestly being surprised that he remembers you.

“Yeah!”

“I haven’t really seen you around a lot. But when I do you are always hanging with those comic book nerds.”

“Hey! Comics are great.”

He puts his hands up in a defense.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean it as an insult. Some comics are good, my little brother made read one last month. It was actually great.”

“What comic was it?”

“Oh, uhm..It was about some kind of blind dude in a devil costume.”

“Daredevil?” you ask with a giggle.

“Yes, that one!” he laughs too.

The two of you continue talking until the end of lunch break. He is surprisingly fun to talk to and he even offers to walk you to your next class after lunch. You had such a good time you didn’t even think about Dave, heck, you didn’t even notice him literally glaring daggers into Matthew.

“What’s up with you, dude?” Tod asks snapping Dave out of it. 

“Yeah, Dave. What the shit is going on with you and Y/N?” Marty asks too.

Dave forrows is eyebrows. Yes, what the shit is going on with the two of you? Every since yesterday's 'fight' with you he can't stop thinking. About how he spends most, if not all of his time either with being Kick-Ass or, rather with Katie. It used to be different. He spent every second with you and he just threw you away so he could maybe get laid. And sure, Katie may be hot as fuck but she is.. Well, she is not you. 

"We had a fight, yesterday. I.. And she was right." he explains with a grimace. "But why the fuck is that Greendale asshole is with her?" 

"You jealous or something, dude?" 

"Wha- Of course I am not jealous! Why would I be? You guys are nuts." 

Jealous… The word rolled around in his mouth like a new flavored milkshake he never tasted before. 

Could he be… Jealous? He never thought of you that way, you were always his best friend. Just that. But.. The more he thinks about it the more he can't stop that twist like feeling in his stomach. 

That night he can't focus on crime fighting. All his thoughts are tied to you. Whether he likes it or not, memories of you keep popping up in his mind. How didn't he notice your beautiful smile before? And your laugh? It's like a beautiful melody. And… Gosh! When did he become such a sappy teenager? Oh and another thing.. He kept trying to think of something else, anything else like Katie for example but he doesn't care anymore! 

Dave goes home early with a frustrated growl. The remaining hours of the night he spends with tossing and turning and daydreaming instead of sleeping. 

(the next afternoon, Atomic Comics) 

Dave bangs his head against the wood table once again. A tired groan leaves his lips when he hears Tod almost choking on his iced coffee. 

"What the tunk, Tod?" Marty and Dave ask almost at the same time. The dirty blonde haired boy keeps pointing outside the huge window that they are sitting next to at Atomic Comics. 

"Is that fucking y/n?!" 

Now all three of them look outside the shop and see you, all dressed up nad seemingly waiting for someone. 

"Holy fuck!" Dave whispers. He stares at you, with his mouth a gap before jumping up from the booth they were sitting at and rushing outside the store. 

"Y/n! Y/-" he yells almost tripping on thin air. 

"Dave?" you question, quickly turning towards him. Damn, you missed him. No! Yeah, you did… "What do you want?" 

"What do I- What, can't I talk to you?" 

"If you wanted to talk you would have in these past days!" you say. Yes, you might have missed him, but it's not like you're gonna show it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am waiting for my date to show up." 

"Your.. Your what, now?!" 

"My date" 

"You can't go on a date!" 

"And why is that, Lizewski?" 

"Lizewski? Really, you're calling me by my surname? Are we in such a bad place right now?" 

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you going to tell me what i can and can't do, hm?" 

"I didn't mean it like that. I just…" 

"What, it's fine when you say it but when I do it with you about Katie I'm the bad friend?" 

"No,it's just-" 

"Sorry. Matt's here." you point to the street across the road where you saw the boy walk towards you. "I gotta go." 

You start walking away but Dave grabs your wrist. 

"Please, don't." he mumbles. 

"Why not?" you snap at him but your expressions soften upon your eyes land on his saddened face. 

"I- because I don't want you with him. O-or anyone." 

You raise an eyebrow. 

"What?" 

He took a deep breath before looking around. Matt was waiting patiently by the traffic light so he could cross the road. Dave quickly began explaining. 

"You were right. About Katie. I was such a dickhead, I am so sorry, y/n. I am sorry for ignoring you over her and and.." from the corner of his eye he sees the traffic light turn green. "Shit! I don't want you to go out with Greendale cause I.. Because I like you. Like really fucking like you. And oh my god you look so fucking hot in this outfit, not that you're not always hot but holy shit. I know we are just friends and you don't think of me that way but I ju-"

"Oh my god! Do you ever shut up?" you yell before pressing your lips to his. Dave stumbled back a little, but quickly recovered and kissed back. Your hands cupped his face and his hands grabbed your waist in response. You both tilled your heads, deepening the kiss earning loud knocking from Marty and Tod as they watched the whole scene through the window. Not that you noticed any of it. You didn't hear the passing by car honk at you nor the yells or whistles. You also did not notice Matthew walking away with a sad smile after seeing the two of you. Your touches intertwine and you're pretty sure you heard Dave moan slightly which causes you to giggle into the kiss. You both pull away gasping for air. You look down at your shoes, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. Dave scratches his back and looks around nervously only to see his two idiotic friends making kissy faces. He lifts his middle finger for them before clearing his throat. 

"So.. Khm.. I guess you like me too?" 

You let out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I do." you say looking at him with a smile.

"That's.. Fuck. That's great." he replied genuinely happy. "Wanna get out of here?" 

You nod and you take off. You take Dave's hand and he intertwines your fingers with a smile. Maybe he is truly a superhero. He helps people and he gets the girl of his dreams. The happy ending. 

Dave Lizewski taglist : @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff

[angelamajiki]

[ a father’s love ]

PARING: StepFather! Aizawa x StepDaughter! Reader

SYNOPSIS: Your stepfather took you in with open arms after the death of your mother. Depression gets the better of you and Shouta promises to take care of you. But just how far is he willing to go to see it through?

CW: yandere, pseudo-incest, mentions of stalkers, mentions of death, depression, mental health issues, pregnancy, noncon, somnophilia, bondage, daddy kink, praise kink, afab reader

AN: my first collab with the bnharem server!! the theme was roommates (i ran with the term loosely) read the other member’s takes here! mind the tags as usual and enjoy!! :)

The death of your mother shattered you. A freak accident with a villain attack had her crushed under rubble from a collapsed building. Your stepfather, Shouta, suggested that you move back home with him after her funeral. As tempting as the offer was, you were determined to make it through University and handle yourself like a big girl, an adult ready to take on the world. You had only moved out a few months before her death, independence calling to you after you received your college acceptance letter.

A few months and an eviction notice later, you crawled back to him, the only remnants of your family. Open arms enveloped you, bringing you solace and comfort in your dire time of need. You felt like a child, bundled up in his arms as you sobbed, screaming at the cruelty of the world. Depression hit you hard and deep, flunking you out of your classes and preventing the bills from being paid. You had no other alternative but to accept his offer.

“You time and space to grieve properly, kitty. The most logical thing to do is take a breather.”

Ah, kitty. He always knew that was your favorite nickname, calling you that ever since you were a little girl. He also always knew just what to say. Patting your thigh, he stood up and extended his hand to help you up as well.

“Let’s go step up your room. I'm sure you need a nap after that cry.”

He gave a wrinkly smile before disappearing down the hall.

Skeptical at first, you were unsure if it was the right move to return home. You needed time to figure out what you wanted, what you needed. A break from life would give you a chance to sort things out, right? And Shouta was more than prepared to use this opportunity to show you he would be all that you needed and more.

The man was nothing short of doting and generous. A shoulder to cry on, a good laugh, a friend, a father. He helped you piece your broken soul back together. Whenever he wasn’t patrolling, he was at home with you. When your depression seemed to drown you, Shouta was there to pull you out of the water. He made sure you ate, helped brush your hair when it was matted, and got you into clean clothes daily. It was the small things that he did for you that helped your demeanor change.

—

“Up and at ‘em, kitty. Breakfast is on the table.”

You grunted, burrowing deeper into your bedding. A chuckle reverberated in his throat as he rubbed your lower back soothingly.

“C’mon, I know you haven't been eating lately. Let's get some food in you. I made your favorite.”

—

But as time passed, his help could only do so much. Your mental health continued to dwindle, plummeting into the ground when her first anniversary passed.

—

Gentle strokes of a brush smoothed through your tangled hair. Shouta was kind enough to help you when your head got matted into a rat’s nest, being incredibly tender and gentle with you. Tears streamed down your face, broken hiccups and sobs bubbling from your chest. You were trying to hold it in, he could tell. A sweet kiss was placed on the back of your head as he enveloped you in a comforting embrace, letting his hands sip down to your hips to rub circles in.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

He was the only one that was.

—

The domestic dynamic the two of you fell into hardly felt like one of parent and child, but more as two lovers sharing a home they built together. The pair of you even adopted a new cat together in hopes of cheering you up. You can't say that you disliked it. It felt...nice to have your presence matter when it was a struggle even to be alive. Shouta always checked in on you; whether he sent you an update from work or shared a cat video. He really was the best father anyone could hope for, even when your depression got the worst of you.

Your depression started to manifest itself in many forms. Lately, you’d been having vicious nightmares, only to wake up with an unknown stickiness on your thighs. Recalling the night terrors was something that evaded you, but you knew you were being violated. Perhaps your body wet itself from the fear of the dream? It was the only logical answer you and Shouta could come up with. Depression sure had funny ways of physically manifesting itself. You thought that would be the end of it, putting the situation behind you.

It was until it started happening nightly. The nightmares only seemed to prolong themselves, worsening to the point where you could vividly dream of being assaulted. Your underwear was now soiled too, and it definitely wasn’t your doing. Fearing you had a stalker, Shouta installed brand new locks on your windows and doors, hoping to soothe you. He was a Pro-Hero, so he certainly had the means and know-how to protect you. It put you at some ease, but it continued to the point where your stepfather decided sleeping in the same room would help you feel safer.

It didn't.

The nightmares themselves only seemed to get worse, but Shouta was right there to comfort you as soon as you woke up shouting in a panic. He would take you into his arms and hold you until you fell back asleep. You felt like a child. But he didn't judge you.

After a month of strange behavior, the stress caused you to gain some weight. Visiting a doctor was your best bet to get an answer. He took you to your appointment, letting you hold onto his arm for comfort as his hand rested comfortably on your thigh. The two of you were mistaken for a couple by a nurse. What a strange, intimate relationship the pair of your tangled yourselves in.

The doctor ran some tests and had your blood drawn. The results were to be emailed to you in a few days. Shouta calmed your nerves with a tender kiss to the forehead, reassuring you that everything would work itself out.

The notification for the email came in a few days later while Shouta was at work and you were lounging in the living room. Patience was never your strong suit, so you took his laptop from the coffee table, only to open up to a camera feed. Coming from your room.

The blood in your veins ran cold as you looked into the memory drive of the feed. Maybe he set up a camera to see what was happening during your nightmares? That had to be it; how could you assume the worst of your sweet dad? The only saved footage to be found was him fucking himself deep inside of your sleeping body.

“I see the results are in.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

“What-” You couldn’t find the words to describe your anger. “What the fuck is this!”

Disgust. Rage. Dispair.

Your only family left had turned against you.

“You were upset at the loss of your family, kitty. So I decided to give you a new one.”

He couldn't possibly mean…

“You’re pregnant.”

Bile rose to your throat as you gagged at the mere thought of his words. Pregnant? With your father’s child? His betrayal cut you more profoundly than your mother’s death ever could have. But it couldn't have made more sense—his touches, his comfort, sleeping in your room, the nightmares that plagued you.

“You’re sick!”

You shouted, tears streaming down your face as you continued to pummel insults and nasty spats at him. You lost your voice by the end of your rant, panting and heaving while sweat beaded your brow. He just stood there, taking everything in with a grain of salt.

“I understand, kitty. I really do. I should have been straightforward with my intentions.” He confessed.

The capture weapon around his neck snagged you the second you moved on the couch.

“Let daddy make it up to you. I'll make everything better for my pretty little kitty.”

It secured you to the sofa, keeping your legs spread and your hands behind your torso. On his knees in front of you, Shouta was ready to serve his apology with his tongue. Panties and sweatpants were ripped at the seams before being tossed aside.

He caressed your thigh with a delicate touch, pressing his lips to the other side. A kiss was pressed to your clit before long slow strokes of a hot tongue lavished it in attention. He kneaded your thighs gently all the while, humming as he began to alternate between licking and suckling on your sensitive nub.

Your head thrashed about in your binds as you shouted in protest.

“S-Stop it right now! Get off of me, dad!”

In a desperate plea, you hoped that hearing you call him dad would force him back into reality. Instead, he groaned and took a breath.

“Call me that again, kitty.”

A hot mouth sealed over your wet cunt as he dove his tongue between your folds while sucking with his lips. The pleasure was undeniable; his tongue was too experienced to ignore how his ministrations made you feel. Toes flexing and curling, you cried out of a mix of frustration, disgust, and humiliation as he continued to work at your dripping hole. This pig was getting off on the fact that he was fucking his daughter. It made your soul shatter all over again, the one he worked so hard to rebuild.

You continued to sob, moans now added to the mix, as he worked a finger inside of you. He made a curling motion after plunging in knuckle deep. A pleasured shout broke between your cries.

“I'll take it that’s your sweet spot, pretty girl? Good to know.”

He continued to abuse that spot, slowing down just a touch with his tongue to drag out the ride to the peak. Can't have you coming too fast, now can we? Your moans and whimpers spurred him on even more as he wiggled another finger inside you.

Removing his mouth, he focused on stretching and loosening up your tense body. You were lax when sleeping, so sliding in was a pinch with his size. But now he has to deal with you thrashing and struggling against his bonds. Disgust and pleasure churned together in your gut, feeling the incoming orgasm approaching hard and fast. Shouta felt you clench around his fingers and added a third, using his thumb to swipe your clit back and forth. With a final cry, you came on his fingers with a shout as your body convulsed in the capture weapon. You found what little peace you could in your short-lived post-nut clarity, taking a moment to breathe and center yourself.

Your father gave you no such chance to do so, immediately springing his cock free and rubbing the tip against your clit to gather your wetness. A chuckle sounded in his throat as he watched you twitch even more from the stimulation that was starting to border on being painful.

“Relax, kitty. Being tense won't do you any good.”

He slowly nudged his cock into your hole, groaning as he took his time bottoming out inside you. Praise spilled from his lips as he let you adjust, feeling your pussy clench tight around him. Good girl, good kitty. He shushed your sobs, smoothing the tears off of your face with the pads of his thumb. Murmurs of good girl and taking me so well slipped your senses. The pace he set was slow and deep, letting you feel every agonizing inch of his rather impressive dick.

Your flowing tears were kissed away as he proceeded to thrust faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the room, even above your now weakened crying and whimpers. Sweat beaded on your brow plastered your hair to your forehead. His breath was warm against your cheek, his moans of pleasure so close to your ear forced you to stay in the moment.

Shouta swallowed your cute noises with a kiss, cupping and stroking your cheek with his right hand while his left pinned your hips down into the cushions. He did his best to stop your tears, pushing the hair off of your sweaty face. A few minutes passed filled with kisses, cries, and deep thrusts before he maneuvered you to be seated in his lap. Back pressed into the cushions, he lazily thrust up into you, hands grabbing your now bouncing ass. His thumb made its way back to your clit as he rubbed it in small circles, grinning at your cries of pleasure that you couldn't hold back. Dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he groaned and moaned proudly, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he felt himself getting closer and closer.

He usually lasted longer while you were sleeping; he does have quite a bit of stamina from his hero work. But something about seeing your flushed, torn face, hearing your whimpers and cries, he can't help but cum rather quickly for his own record. The pleasure was manifesting itself within you again, a second orgasm hitting you like a speeding truck as you gasped and choked for air at its intensity. Shouta was soon to follow, grunting and moaning loudly as he filled your cunt with his spend. He rode out both your orgasms, relishing in the silence between the two of you. It was better than hearing your broken, choked up wails.

It was wrong; he knew that. Breaking your trust, violating you, sabotaging your personal life, he couldn't help but be selfish with you. But he always knew what was best for you, always knew how to take care of you when you couldn't.

Foreheads pressed together, he caught your sagging body against him in a warm hug, stroking your hair when you started to sob uncontrollably.

“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”

[jar-of-ectoplasm]

Confessing to La Squadra

a/n: look i know i already have some Risotto confessing headcanons but those are more about him confessing so i'm including him here anyway

Genre: Fluff, a tiny bit of angst (but no rejection), these hoes don't know what love is lol

~Risotto Nero~

-Seriously thought you were joking when you pulled him aside and told him how you felt

-He was convinced Formaggio had put you up to this or something

-Ris feels like he isn't deserving of love (BUT HE IS) and he's literally so bad at expressing himself so he just nodded and walked away

-Had a breakdown in his office because why the fuck did he just walk away?? after you poured your heart out to him???? jesus christ what if you think he doesn't like you???????

-So he gets up and fucking sprints to your room to try to fix his mistakes

-Frantically tells you that he likes you back and would love to go out with you sometimes (you can barely understand it because he's talking so fast)

~Prosciutto~

-Saw this coming from a mile away but he won't be a bitch about it don't worry

-Takes your confession with an overwhelming amount of grace and gives you a time and place to meet him for a date the next day

-As soon as you leave he's jumping around and giggling like a child because oh my fucking god his crush likes him back holy shit!!!

-He'll panic about what he's supposed to wear. Should he just wear his regular suit? No, no no this is a special occasion! Pinstripes or no pattern? What tie would go best with this shirt? He needs to pick a suit with your favorite color, you'll like him more, right?

-Eventually caves and has Risotto pick something out for him because he literally can't (indecisive queen)

~Pesci~

-He is so INSECURE OH MY GOD

-Like Risotto, he thinks you're just fucking with him. He honest to god doesn't believe you could fall in love with someone like him

-He gets too nervous and freezes up then runs to find Prosciutto because he has no idea what to do

-Prosciutto basically screams at him to go back and find you. He can't just leave you all alone after telling him something like that!

-So he does go back and stutters out the softest "i like you too" in the world

-He'll take you for a picnic on the beach right after because he wants to make up for just leaving you standing there after he ran

~Illuso~

-BITCH MOTHERFUCKER

-He already knew because he eavesdropped on your conversation with Melone about how you should confess to him

-Sure he likes you back but he wanted you to come to him so he didn't seem desperate or something

-Teases you about it because he can't socialize for shit and probably ends up making you upset because he won't shut his god damn mouth

-So when you just walk away incredibly frustrated and probably a little teary eyed he realizes he fucked up bad

-Goes into the mirror world to scream because why can't he just be a normal person and not a little bastard

-Pops into your room from the mirror and gives you the quietest apology you've ever heard then hugs you because he feels really bad

~Formaggio~

-Another member of the team that thinks you're joking. Not because he's insecure, he's actually very confident in himself, but he jokingly flirts with you all the time so he thought you were finally playing along

-But you're not and you like him for real which makes him SO FUCKING HAPPY

-He knew he was gonna fall in love with you the day you joined the team and he's been daydreaming about your guys' first date since you went on your first mission with him

-Might be the most well prepared member of the team if I'm being honest

-He has a whole speech about how much he loves you and all the things he wants to do together and he already knows a guy that can legally marry you two

-He's so soft for you

~Ghiaccio~

-You told him how you felt when you guys were cornered during a mission and could die in literal seconds

-So when that didn't happen and you two made it out alive with the target killed, he tried to ignore your words ringing in his head

-But god damn the car ride back to Napoli was a long one and all Ghiaccio can do is think after you fell asleep in the passenger seat

-He couldn't tell if you just said you loved him because you guys were about to die or if you actually felt that way. But what if you loved him like family instead of like a boyfriend?

-And so Ghiaccio pulled over and woke you up. It was bothering him too much, he needed an answer now

-When you clarified that yes, you did love him romantically, he hugged you so hard your ribs almost broke

-mans was worrying for nothing smh

~Melone~

-He flirts with you all the time but...you actually caught feelings for him? Like genuine "I love you" feelings? Not lust? Melone seriously can't remember the last time someone actually enjoyed his presence outside of the bedroom so much that they wanted to be with him

-Mel started bawling his eyes out. Like, full on sobbing on his knees in front of you

-You thought you had done something wrong so you started apologizing which made him cry even harder (he thought you were apologizing because it was a joke)

-After he got himself back together he shakily asked you if you really meant it (which you obviously did) and after you gave him a positive answer he started crying again

-He won't let go of you for the rest of the day. He's just so happy someone finally loves him (FUCK that's sad)

~Sorbet and Gelato~

-It's a damn good thing you liked both of them. Gelato might've killed you if you only like Sorbet and Sorbet would've laughed in your face if you only liked Gelato

-So you avoided getting your face cut off but what the fuck are you supposed to do about confessing? You didn't want to become a homewrecker, it was quite obvious Sorbet and Gelato were perfectly content with nobody else in their relationship

-So you never said anything about it to anybody. God only knows what Illuso would've done if he heard you saying anything about it and the rest of the team would've let it slip eventually

-But Sorbet and Gelato always have a way of finding things out for themselves

-You were already close to the couple so when the smaller blonde man walked up to asking to see you for a second you thought nothing of it

-Until you were seated in front of them and Sorbet had broken the silence with "We know about your little secret"

-Honestly you thought you were about to die. How did they even find out? You were sure you hadn't said or done anything to hint at your feelings for them

-Gelato broke the silence this time. "Honestly, we're quite flattered both of us caught your attention."

-That didn't help ease you at all but when the both of them spoke in unison, "But don't worry about it too much, you've caught our interest as well."

-So now their murder duo is a murder trio, have fun :)

[multiplefandomsblog]

Nagito, Kokichi and Gundham with a s/o who wears a mask

Desc; S/o is insecure of a large scar on her eye, so they cover it with a prosthetic mask. But someone snatches it off their face. >:(

Btw!!! If you have insecurities about past scars, remember that Nagito, Gundham and Kokichi will always love you no matter what! As well as the other characters from danganronpa >:3 remember to love yourself and all your scars, because you are truly beautiful! And you can’t say otherwise! ùwú

Warnings; tw; insults based off looks/scars, cussing, threatening, very very few sexual comments(there’s like 1)

Nagito

You were walking around the beach with Nagito, hand in hand. You two conversed about random topics, though Nagito mostly talked about hope obviously. As you two talked, you didn’t notice a certain pig-tailed girl make her way towards you. The both of you being too entranced by the other.

As you turned your head to see Hiyoko charging towards you, you were too slow to avoid her gremlin-like hands, Hiyoko was able to snatch your mask off. Your eyes widened in shock at the feeling of your mask being removed, but before you could even feel the air hit your face, Nagito acted quickly. 

He hastily brought you into a hug, gently pressing your face against his shoulder, shielding your scar from view. Personally, Nagito adored your scar, for he loved every part of you.

Despite all his countless compliments and sentiments, he knew how insecure you still were. So he did what he needed to do, for your sake. Feeling a warmth engulf your heart, you teared up at Nagito’s actions. You truly appreciated him.

You stood there in Nagito’s embrace, the embarrassment finally hitting you like a brick shortly after. Oh how you were glad Nagito was there. Nagito curled his arm protectively around your body, “Not cool, Hiyoko-san. What a terrible act of despair.” He shook his head and sighed from disappointment,

“Well it’s okay, your talent isn’t completely wasted. Because you can become a wonderful sacrifice for the other ultimates! Don’t you think?” Nagito spoke with sickly sweet tone, his words becoming louder and more crazed with time. He looked directly into Hiyoko’s panic-stricken irises with his swirled ones as he grinned.

“W-what are you saying? If you’re threatening m-me, I’ll tell the others!” Nagito nodded his head with an inappropriately cheerful smile, “Go ahead! Tell them what you did!” Nagito giggled maniacally, successfully scaring her away. She made a sound of frustration before skittering away like a cockroach. 

Hearing Hiyoko’s footsteps fade away, you slowly relaxed into Nagito’s protective embrace. Nagito slowly calmed down from his previous state as well, relieved that the rat was gone.

He didn’t let go of you until he realized what he was doing, “M-my hope! I’m so sorry, I know you probably didn’t want to hug trash like me-” He tried pulling away but you shoved his body back towards you. “... Thank you.” He let out a small squeak before hesitantly hugging you back. 

He brought his hands up to cup your face, seeing your face properly without your mask. Your eyes widened as you struggled to hide your face from his gaze. But before you could move away he kissed your scar multiple times, leaving you in a daze.

Your face got redder with every kiss he gave you, eventually he stopped right before your lips. “I love every single part of you, especially your scars, so don’t hide them from me.” And he leaned in.

Kokichi

You and Kokichi were playing hide & seek in the school—of course—after an abundant amount of pleading on Kokichi’s side. As soon as you heard Kokichi holler out a, “Ten!”

You started sprinting to the other side of the school; You see, you take hide & seek games very seriously. Well, you decided you’d take hide & seek games seriously ever since Kokichi said that, and I quote, “If you lose, you have to show me your face!”

Why did you take the bet, you ask? Because Kokichi also said, “But if I lose, I’ll wear a maid dress for a week!” And you needed to see him in that dress. So you ran like hell, on your way to the lockers in one of the classrooms. As you ran down the hall, you accidentally bumped into Miu. 

“Hey! Watch it, you piss stained deformed pig!” She yelled out, taking a step back, you looked at her with confusion and anger. “Bitch, excuse-” You cut yourself off as you felt her snatch your mask off your face. “W-what the hell!?”

You yelped as you stumbled back and covered your face with your hand, “Why w-would you do that?” You stuttered out, the vulnerability of your mask off hitting you like a truck. You looked to the ground, not being able to make eye contact with your assaulter, suddenly feeling anxious.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m sure everyone has wanted to see that gross face beneath your mask! I’d be doing them a favour!” She threw her head back, hysterically laughing at you.

You wanted so bad to knock her off her high horse, but she was still holding on to your mask. Since you’ve become overly comfortable with your mask, you weren’t able to function properly without it.

So all you could utter out was a meek, “J-just give it back.” Because of your focus on your mask, you completely forgot about the hide & seek game. Thus, forgetting that Kokichi was probably trying to find you right now.

“Whaaaaaat~? Iruma-san got to see your face before me? S/o-chaaaaaan, that’s not fair.” You shot your head up, making eye contact with a pair of familiar purple eyes. Before quickly looking back down, too ashamed to reveal your face.

Miu’s eyes darted around the room to find the source of the noise, but she couldn't find where it came from. Then, Miu suddenly tensed up, feeling Kokichi’s tight grip on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, why don’t I rip out your eyeballs so we can say you never saw anything?” Kokichi dug his fingers into her shoulder, eerily grinning up at her. Miu winced and tried to get away from him. Seeing this, Kokichi giggled, “Nishishi!” before leaning beside her ear, “...You have 5 seconds, whore.”

Kokichi’s grin grew impossibly larger, looking as if the edges of his mouth had been split. A lewd cry came out from Miu’s mouth before she freed herself from the boy’s grip. You both watched as she ran down the hall, clutching her groin. Did... did she get aroused from that?

You looked back down and watched Kokichi’s shoes as they slowly approached you. “Hmmm, my turn! My turn!” Kokichi gripped both your wrists, pulling them away from your face. Flinching away from his gaze, you expected him to make a disgusted face or push you away but instead he said,

“Oh c’mon, you don't even look that bad! Maaaaan, I thought you’d look scary. But instead you just look perfectly fuckable! Bummer.” Kokichi huffed out defeatedly, pretending not to notice your face that was becoming redder and redder with every second. “You can’t say things l-like that so e-easily!”

Kokichi smirked at your flustered state, before putting on an innocent facade, “Hey, why are you so nervous, huh? Is it because you like me?” You perked your head up slightly from his guess in panic, oh shit he knows. “Well? Answer the question, dummy!” He playfully leaned in closer to get a reaction out of you.

He tilted his head underneath yours, trying to get you to make eye contact with him. Not being able to avoid his gaze, you shyly looked at him. He grinned when he saw your eyes lock with his, content that you finally looked at him. You flushed underneath his stare, “Ohhh I see.” He exaggerated,

“So you are in love with me.” Before you could refute, Kokichi pecked you quickly on your lips, disallowing you from saying anything else. “W-wha?” Kokichi cackled to himself before running away, “Nishishi! Start counting, S/o-Chan~!” 

Gundham

 You were in the rocket punch market with Gundham, searching the aisles for freeze dried strawberries. You and Gundham wanted to get his hamsters a treat so they can, ‘rise and become the rulers of the island!‘ as the great prince of darkness said.

You looked through the candy aisle, searching for the dried fruit. While skimming your hand through the various plastic packages, you accidentally brushed your hand against Gundham’s. You both pulled away and flushed from the contact. 

You hid your blushing face in your mask, whilst he hid his in his scarf. You both apologized profusely to each other, “S-sorry! I wasn’t watching my hand and-” “S/o, you must’t apologize! It was me who was at fault.” You two kept bickering back and forth, before ultimately reaching a common ground. ‘It was the package’s fault.’ Hiyoko rolled her eyes at your disgustingly adorable ‘argument’.

You two went back to searching for the treat, stealing small glances from each other. God, you guys acted like an oblivious awkward teen couple. Hiyoko watched your dumbasses act like idiots and got sick of it, she just wanted her goddamn gummy bears.

She groaned before barging into your aisle, “You guys are so annoying! Ugh, can’t you and freak-face just go already?” You winced at the insult, feeling that deep pit of insecurity all over again. 

Hiyoko went up to you and smacked your mask off, “For fuck’s sake, why do you even like this nerd? They’re so ugly!” You scrambled to your knees to pick your mask back up. But before you could, she stepped on it.

You whimpered at the broken material, letting your hair cover your face like a curtain. You slowly stood up with one hand on your face, about to leave as Hiyoko said but Gundham quickly grabbed your wrist. 

He faced Hiyoko with a threatening aura surrounding him, “Puto vos esse molestissimos, vacca stulta.” Hiyoko looked at Gundham with scared confusion, “The fuck? A-are you cursing me?” Gundham looked at Hiyoko dead in the eyes before taking another breath, 

“Faciem durum cacantis habes, futue te ipsum!” Hiyoko slowly backed away, feeling chills run up her spine. “I just wanted some damn gummy bears!” Hiyoko wailed before turning on her heels and out the doors. 

Gundham turned to you, checking if you were okay. But instead, you stepped away from him. You didn’t want him to see your scar, you didn’t want him to think you were ugly. “Wait- I- My mask-” You choked up, feeling a panic attack bubble up from your chest.

Gundham looked at you with concern, it pained him to see you in such distress. Grabbing your shoulders, he spoke to you with a strong, confident voice, “S/o. You are the darkest light in my life, I adore every part of you. Your battle scars, your charisma, you. I love you.”

He moved your hair away from your face, and lightly kissed your scar. “Your scar proves how incredible you are, it proves you’ve fought the demons in hell! And that just makes you even more perfect.”

You smiled when you heard him call you perfect, unsure of when someone last called you that. You continued to cry harder, but instead of in pain, you cried from the overwhelming love you had for this man. 

sorry for taking long! and thank you for requesting :)

[deusluxuria]

anonymous asked:

Stardust Crusaders + Holly dealing with/reacting to Jotaro have a meltdown, shutdown, or sensory overload?

◇◇◇

(content note: ableism, autmisia)

◇◇◇

Before Jotaro met the Crusaders, his mom was the only person who noticed the signs of Jotaro being overwhelmed and on the verge of a meltdown.

Jotaro didn't know he was autistic until his early twenties, but Holly was very receptive to his needs regardless. It was just a matter of listening.

It's hard for him when he has meltdowns around people who don't know him as well as Holly does, because he often doesn't know what he needs in order to feel okay again. He needs someone to walk him through it, offer suggestions, and not force anything.

He always rejects hugs from his father. Always has. Jotaro's father doesn't understand him at all, and is most definitely of the "why can't you just be 'normal'" asshole type.

Holly has always asked permission before hugging him, so he trusts her and knows he can go to her for support.

As a teenager and an adult, Jotaro doesn't hug as much. Usually it's only if he's upset. And he only hugs people he really, strongly trusts. (Holly, Kakyoin, Abdul, his wife, Jolyne, Josuke).

Holly could easily list the signs of Jotaro being overwhelmed: very tense, much quieter than usual, clumsy, more irritable, rocking back and forth, pulling on his ear or a piece of hair, checking his surroundings more...

Jotaro typically has the quieter, more internal meltdowns. He'll feel so angry and just kind of collapse in on himself.

If he's having a personal life crisis, sometimes he'll punch a wall or a door, with no other way to get those emotions out.

Jotaro becomes non-verbal sometimes when he gets upset, non-speaking and also not able to verbalize in any way, such as groaning or sighing to express frustration.

Holly noticed this about him since his childhood, and she taught him a few basic signs in BSL (British Sign Language). As an adult, he knows JSL and ASL, but the signing he learned from Holly is close to his heart.

If Holly notices Jotaro feeling overwhelmed, she'll ask only yes-or-no questions, and ask one of them at a time. She'll ask if he needs to spend time around people, or to be left alone.

When Jotaro was little, she noticed he would run his hands under the sink for a long time when he was stressed. So for when he had meltdowns, she started putting him in the bath and spraying warm water on his scalp while brushing his hair.

From something as simple as watching and listening, she learned how to care for him and be a good parent, instead of an antagonist seeing him as a burden or thinking of him as broken or possessed.

◇◇◇

Abdul is an empath, and he's easily overwhelmed by others' emotions and by tense atmospheres. So he can relate to Jotaro's agoraphobia and sensitivites.

Jotaro himself is high-empathy as well.

Mohammed recognizes when Jotaro seems tense and overwhelmed, regardless of how Jotaro might not express those feelings on the surface.

Mohammed can be a bit more forgiving towards neurotypical lack of understanding, towards himself and other adults. But he won't tolerate it when it's harmfully impacting someone like Jotaro, who Mohammed has seniority over (him being an adult and Jotaro being a minor) and swears to protect.

He's someone Jotaro can cry in front of. Just with the energy he has. Similar to Holly's energy, but not as coddling.

Mohammed wakes up at 4AM every morning, habitually, since his parents always did so when he was a child, answering the Islamic call to prayer that sounds through Egypt. Mohammed is Pagan, but he likes to listen to the call, and remember those very early mornings from his childhood.

After the Crusaders group had arrived in Egypt, Jotaro couldn't sleep the first night. He went for a walk early, and when the call to prayer started, he sat down to listen. He'd never heard it before and didn't know what it was. But it was beautiful and it helped him to cry, finally, for the first time during their mission. He had a hard time processing what was happening to Holly.

Mohammed went out for a walk, found Jotaro, and sat with him for a while. They talked for ages, Jotaro feeling more open after crying and getting those repressed emotions out. They both shared about how they find people overwhelming and they get stressed easily. Jotaro talked about how he was feeling.

◇◇◇

(I headcanon Kakyoin as having BPD.)

Kakyoin admires Jotaro and looks up to him, a surprising change to his own arrogance. Noriaki doesn't typically look up to others.

It'd be alarming for him to see Jotaro have a moment of vulnerability. But essential. The two boys are only human, and sometimes Noriaki forgets that.

Noriaki, like Jotaro, has very intense emotions. So intense that he has to do something physical to cope with them. For Noriaki, that means things like punching a wall or screaming. Jotaro copes by stimming: snapping a rubber band against his wrist, showering in cold water, putting ice between his toes, using a float tank, being hugged, or squeezing into a pressured space like under weighted blankets or in a dense closet.

Noriaki is a PLEASE HELP ME sort of meltdowner, and Jotaro is more LEAVE ME ALONE. On the surface. Sometimes it's vice-versa, sometimes it's much more complex than that.

I feel like Jotaro and Kakyoin might fight about how they deal with their emotions. Because of their lack of understanding. Not just about each other, but each about himself.

Jotaro would find Noriaki's emotions overwhelming at times, and be put off by his occasional spikes of odd behavior. But it'd definitely be internalized ableism. Jotaro would need to recognize that the both of them are seen as odd, and because of that, they have a lot of self-hatred. Which, unfortunately, they'd bounce off each other.

I feel like they'd hug a lot, though. Despite both of them being people who are extremely selective about who gets to hug them.

They'd be very close friends after learning more about themselves and about each other.

◇◇◇

The whole Crusaders group trying to help Jotaro with a meltdown would be a mess, and they'd make it worse at first.

To the point where Jotaro would just sit on the floor, cover his face with his hat, press his hands over his ears, and either groan or go nonverbal.

They'd just have to leave him alone at that point.

If one of them tried to ask him questions later like, "What was stressing you out? How can we do better next time?," the subject would frustrate him so much that he could only answer flatly with, "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know."

It was very difficult for Jotaro to accept and understand himself before finding out he's autistic. He thought there was something wrong with him, mostly from observing the way other people reacted to him. But things most definitely got easier once he knew.