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deadhands69 · 2 months ago

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A Nice Fantasy with Nice Shoulders

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo helps you after you're hit with a sex quirk, based on the same idea as the Shigaraki one here

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

All characters in 3rd year, over 18 and you should be too if you're reading this

Warnings/Content/etc: soft but slightly possessive Bakugo, unestablished relationship, swearing, very light violence, oral (m/f receiving), slightly public/people listening, sex (various positions), walk of shame.

*the start’s a little angsty but idk how to write anything that doesn’t turn into mushy fluffy smut

**a lot of feelings of not consenting to being hit by the quirk, but the actual physical interactions are very much consensual/have been wanted for a while

***this one’s long, it got a bit out of hand [4.9k words]

“They thought it would be funny” you hear someone say. A black cloud of dust had just dissipated, leaving a shocked Monoma and Mineta in the middle. “I don’t think they actually realized how dangerous what they did is” added another voice.

You had all heard of the sex quirk villain terrorizing the city. Every news station had been talking about it all week.

While on patrol for his internship this morning, Monoma picked the villain’s quirk up attempting to apprehend him to no avail. After some brief convincing from Mineta, they assumed it would be a fun prank to make all of the fem-bodied 3rd years a little horny. What they didn’t realize is this quirk doesn’t just make people a little turned on, it drives them to insanity if not dealt with.

“A new article was posted on this today, the effects are worse than previously assumed.” you hear Iida’s nearly robotic voice over the crowd “It can cause permanent damage to quirks and mental stability if intercourse isn’t acted upon promptly!”

Oh, I could fucking kill them you think before launching yourself across the room. Monoma dodges and yells that he’s so sorry and will make it right before running out the door to get help. Mineta on the other hand, is still in shock.

You make quick work of him, leaving him tied to a chair in the common area covered in bruises. The teachers will arrive soon with Monoma and they can deal with it. Turning away and walking to your dorm room, you hear him hurling some insult at you but can’t be bothered to listen.

Most of your classmates are trickling out of the area. Fortunately, the others in your class affected by the quirk all seem to be taken care of. Your best friend Shoto is even leaving with his crush. You’re happy for him but can’t say it doesn’t hurt a bit that he didn’t bother to check on you. It’s not a big deal though, Momo needs help.

And you’ll be fine.

You think.

Or maybe you won’t be.

The happiness for your friends using this as a catalyst to confess to their crushes feels sharply in contrast with the overwhelming loneliness and dread you feel walking back to your room alone. Sure, you have a crush on someone too but he left earlier this morning and you didn’t expect him to be back until tomorrow night. Bakugo frequently leaves on the weekends to visit his parents.

You consider texting Denki or Kiri for his number but they just left with their crushes as well and you’d rather not interrupt them.

Besides, even if Bakugo was here, you don’t think that would make much of a difference. To put it lightly, he doesn’t seem to be into you. When you and Shoto hang out in the common area like you always do, his red eyes glare at you from across the room. Just seeing you seems to put him in a bad mood. He doesn’t even yell at you like everyone else, seeming to ignore your mistakes as if they aren’t worth his time to correct. He did argue with you once, the first day of school but when you threw it back at him he just stared at you. After that, he always seemed indifferent. It was disappointing, his sass seems like it could be fun sometimes.

You’d since written it off as a lost cause and tried to move on. Still, there’s something that draws you to him that you can’t quite place. Something in his eyes that hints things could be different.

You close the door to your dorm, comforted by the familiar space. Iida’s words ring out in your head again “...permanent damage...”

That’s just one article, maybe this won’t be as bad as they say you think before a dizzy spell makes you double over.

Flopping face first into your bed, you scream into your pillow.

You didn’t fucking ask for this.

Katsuki Bakugo just got back from the gym, walking into an uncharacteristically deserted common room. It is Saturday, right? His eyes light up when he sees Mineta still bound to the chair you left him in.

Someone finally snapped, good for them. He’s a little sad to have missed it.

“What happened?”

Mineta stammers at the looming figure above him before blurting out random bits of the story. “t-the villain. Sex quirk. And Monoma- we thought it was harmless but then-”

Of course he’d heard all about this quirk, who hadn’t. Clearly Mineta.

“Are you that fucking stupid?”

“N-no we just thought-”

Bakugo was losing interest, having put the dots together by now. At this point, Mineta was rambling how it would be okay, listing the names of their classmates who had left together.

“Jiro and Kaminari, Ochaco and Midor-”

“Raccoon eyes and Red, [y/n] and Icy Hot, yeah yeah”

“What? No. Todoroki didn’t leave with [y/n], he left with Momo.”

“Huh?” Curiosity replacing the disappointment in his voice. “Who’s with [y/n] then?”

“No one, they left alone. Serves them right. That delinquent’s the one who did this to me!”

“Glad someone finally did,” Bakugo mutters under his breath, smacking Mineta with a small blast while walking past him to the stairs.

“Oh come on, you can’t just leave me here - wait!”

Back in your room: you’re losing it. Every article says the same thing: you’re fucked.

You’d read as many as you could before the overwhelming desire became too much to handle and you couldn’t keep track of the sentences anymore. You tried to fix it yourself too, but no matter how hard you tried your touch only seemed to amplify the problem. Leaving you feeling overheated, your panties desperately drenched. It’s only been fifteen minutes, this will get even worse.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

It’s probably one of your friends, you think, wondering who would bang so loudly on your door (also who finished that quickly????) In the heat of the quirk, you’d taken off your hoodie - leaving you in a nearly see through white tank top and the tiny athletic shorts you’d been wearing all day. Your friend’s wouldn’t care though.

KNOCK KNOCK.

You make your way to the door, thighs clenching around your aching groin as you walk. Swinging it open, you find yourself face to face with a black skull hoodie. Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest before remembering, he doesn’t like you. And he’s not even supposed to be here this weekend. Why’s he here?

“Bakugo, why are you here?” you grumble, sounding much more gruff than intended.

“Uh, nice to see you too?” his fingers tap impatiently on the door frame next to your shoulder.

“Any other day, I’d love to word spar with you but today I just can’t.” you turn to close the door.

“Why? Are you mad your crush left with someone else?”

“What?” you rub your eyes in confusion before getting distracted. Bakugo is hot in workout clothes on a normal day. This quirk was rendering it nearly impossible to concentrate on his words. Not with the way every muscle in his thighs appears to be sculpted into his pants, leading up to his-

“Icy Hot.” he repeats himself, “He left with pony tail. ‘s why you’re pissed, right?”

Oh, that. You’d forgotten about that.

“What? No. Shoto and I are just friends. Besides, he’s had a crush on her forever and she needed his help.” you say blankly.

“You needed help too though,” that one stung. He continues, “sounds like a shitty friend if you ask me.”

“Look. If you’re just here to criticize my friendships, I can’t deal with it right now. Are you done?“ your voice breaks. You step back slightly, hoping to hide in the dimness of your room. He’s not wrong, but you really don’t want him to see you cry.

“I-” he notices the tear in the corner of your eye and knows that one hit too close. He’s off to a bad start. If he keeps talking like that, you’ll definitely slam the door in his face.

Much more quietly he tries again. “Look. I didn’t mean to- fuck, I’m so bad this.” Biting his lip, he wipes his hands on his pants before shoving them in the front of his hoodie. His cheeks flush, making the scar under his eye look pale in comparison. Is he nervous? That can’t be it.

Regaining his composure, he looks back at you. “I came to see if you’re okay, if you n-need anything.”

It’s the most quiet you’d ever seen him. He can’t look you in the eyes. Glancing down, he notices how see-through your shirt is before quickly looking away. He focuses hard on the walls of your room, hands still deep in his pocket.

Of course you’d always wanted Katsuki Bakugo in your dorm room, but assumed it would be different. You imagined that one day he’d start fighting with you like everyone else and fighting would turn into play fighting which would turn into him being nice every once in a while. You always assumed, under his prickly exterior, he’d be soft and sweet inside. You’d never seen it though. Not even when the prettiest girls in your school threw themselves at him, only to be on the receiving end of an explosion. Still, you hoped maybe one day you’d be the one who could break through that, finding something loving underneath. Your crush was all built on a fantasy, but it was a nice fantasy. A nice fantasy, with nice shoulders.

Back to reality.

He at least thought to be here now, which is better than the apathy you were used to. It’s a start.

“Come in,” you whisper “I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

Closing the door behind him, you turn to walk back to your bed when the world shifts. The dizziness had been coming in waves, this is just another one. You could expect it now. Tensing to hit the ground, you’re engulfed by his athletic arms instead.

“Holy shit [y/n], you okay?” he holds you in his arms, looking down at your face.

“Oh, yeah. This has just been happening,” you trail off, hardly aware of what you’re saying. You’re trying to find up from down, only to find every direction your body leads you to is him.

“This has been happening the whole time??” his clenched jaw could easily be mistaken for anger but the waver in his voice gives away his concern. He doesn’t seem to mind you grasping his sweatshirt to right yourself. His body feels warm against you, much warmer than you - making you wonder how he’s managing to be so overdressed right now. Pulling closer, he feels firm under his soft worn hoodie. He smells like laundry detergent and deodorant, with a subtle sweetness. The throbbing in your tight shorts worsens, the quirk-induced ache leaves you feeling empty. You need more of this. More of him.

The dizziness passes and you’re back on your feet. He lets go of you but keeps his arms near as you steady yourself against the wall.

Deep breath. If your friends managed to confess to their crushes today, you can too. Your situation might be a bit different, but he’s not stupid. He knew very well what he was walking into when he showed up. He has to expect this.

Here it goes.

“Bakugo?”

“Yeah? D’ya need somethin?”

“I need your help.”

“Whaddya need?”

“You.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Really?” That’s all it took? Holy shit.

“Pshh. What kind of a damned hero would I be if I can’t even fuck a sex quirk out of ya?” the mock confidence would normally make you cringe but he stepped closer and your face is now inches from his. His hands move to the wall behind you, caging you between his arms. Looking down at you, he pauses.

He wants to throw you on the bed. To shove you face first into the mattress and make you scream his name all day for every other girl in the dorms to hear while they’re being awkwardly fumbled by amateurs. He wants to fuck you as hard as he can, so good it’ll ruin anyone else for you. He wants to make everyone jealous of you.

But when he’s right here with you.

When he leans in closer.

His lips barely brush against yours.

Bringing his arms down from the wall, he cups your cheeks. Holding you softly, pulling you in closer but just as sweet. It isn’t the rough boldness you would expect from him, but it was explosive in its own way. Every subtle move of his lips drags up wishful feelings you’d been burying deep inside you for the past three years.

He pulls back for air, his heavy eyelids opening to see you confused at him.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“Did I do somethin wrong?”

“No, I just didn't expect that.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re just being… nicer than I expected,” you clarify. Understatement of the fucking year.

“’m never mean to you” he mumbles. Even in the low lighting you can see how hard he’s blushing. To hide his embarrassment, he closes the gap between your lips again - this time with more confidence. Mouthes pressing together, his tongue dancing with yours.

Taking this as an invitation to move forward, your hands embrace his body. Exploring every inch you’d only dreamed of. The soft skin of his neck you’d grown accustomed to staring at sitting behind him in class. The ridges of his back you watch flex under his suit when he’s training. You take off his sweatshirt to run your hands over his arms, his black tank top giving you a better view of the muscles and scars that cover them. Fingers lingering on every curve. You pull your hands from the top of his chest down to his thighs. Your touch veers up his inner leg when his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Grimacing at himself for the pause, he bites his lip to collect his words.

He definitely can’t say he hasn’t thought about doing this with you. He has. Constantly. To a point, he maybe wondered if it was unhealthy. It’s actually the reason he went to the gym this morning, he needed to think of anything else but your ass in the tiny little shorts you were wearing while casually making a cup of coffee. The ones you’re wearing now, pressed up against him.

But having you now? Like this?

“Wait.” His voice is gritty but softer than you’d expect.“What?”

“Things ain’t gonna be weird with us, right?”

“No weirder than ever. Why?”

He looks away momentarily. Not wanting to say it if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing. For his own sake though, he can’t bring himself to leave this unaddressed.

“Cuz I skipped a few steps, I was supposta take you out and stuff first.”

“Well, I’ll let you know to ask me out in advance next time I plan to get hit with a sex quirk.”

“‘m serious. ‘m not fucking this up.”

“You can take me out later.” you smile, his eyes soften looking into yours. Something in his stare makes you melt like ice cream on a summer day. Is this the sweetness you’d always dreamed of?

Feeling too hot, you take off your tank top, throwing it on the ground nearby. His eyes drop and the corner of his mouth creeps into a smile. His hands move to your waist before gliding up to trace the shape of you. He follows your lead - pulling his shirt off and exposing the scars scattered over his toned body.

Granting your own wish, your hands trail down the V along his hips and into his pants. Closer, you need to be closer.

Without thinking you drop to your knees. The pants don’t leave much to the imagination, his outline appearing rock hard already (and he didn’t even get hit with that quirk). Peeling back the fabric, his cock bounces out heavily. It’s massive in a way that would usually scare you but with the audaciousness of a sex quirk taking over your inhibitions, you only want it more. Grasping the soft skin with both hands, you bring the dripping pink tip to your mouth. You have to. It’s so beautiful and you need it. He gasps as your tongue lolls out and you bob your head forward.

One of his hands finds your neck, thumb gently caressing the back of your head; the other planted on his own face leaning over you with his elbow into the wall to steady himself. You watch his abs flex with every heavy breath before your eyes find his.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good” he groans. You moan at the sound of his voice, sending vibrations through him.

He doesn’t last long. To be honest, he’s a little embarrassed by this but he really had been thinking about you in these shorts all day and didn’t expect this to happen. Less than a minute later, his hips are sputtering while he whimpers “wait, [y/n] gonna cum.”

Perfect.

Even in your throat, you can’t take him all the way in at this angle. Increasing the speed of your hands, you pull your mouth back enough to look up at his face again while still working his sensitive tip. His brows furrow and he bites his lip, exhaling hard while gripping your hair tighter.

“Fuck… cumming” he whines through clenched teeth. His dick gushing in your mouth.

You stare up into his crimson eyes, licking him while letting his load drip through your lips down your chest. The astounded look on his face says he’s into it.

Milking out the last drop, you let him gaze at you while catching his breath. You grab your tank top to wipe your chest and face off but he’s already pulling you up before you can finish. Pressing you back into the wall. His lips find yours as he cups his hand around your cheek.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles between kisses, “now it’s my turn.”

Suddenly, his strong hands grip the backs of your thighs. Not removing his lips from yours, he carries you across the room to your bed. Laying you across his lap, he takes the shirt still in your hands and finishes cleaning his cum off of you. Still worked up, every touch he gives is met with your moans. Noticing this, he works his hands around your body. Lightly grazing and squeezing where he pleases. Taking off the shorts he’d been daydreaming about removing all day. You’re soaked through your panties, pressing hard into him as his fingers gently pass over you.

“Wanna sit on my face?” he asks, knowing you’re dying to grind into him any way you can.

Absolutely, you do.

A little too eagerly, you shove him back onto your bed - he doesn’t mind. First, you peel the wet fabric from between your legs. Climbing over him, you position yourself above his face. Your ankles slide under his shoulders, fingers tangling with his above his head to steady yourself. You slam into him, dropping harder than intended (okay, you really want this.) A bit rough, but you know Dynamite can take it. Slightly overwhelmed at your enthusiasm, he groans into you before his wet tongue laps at your folds. Sucking and biting at your clit as you ride his face. His hand follows over yours as you move to grip his blonde hair.

You’re almost there.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Hey, [y/n] are you okay in there?” Mina’s distinct voice sounds through your door, “we’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m.. uhm. I’m good.” you yell back, trying (and slightly failing) to control your breath.

Glancing down, Bakugo’s eyes light up. Without warning, he shoves his tongue into you. Your world spins.

“Fuckkk” you moan under your breath, gripping his hair harder. He’s enjoying this.

Of course the other hero students would immediately jump back into helping people, but now? There’s no way you’re answering the door right now.

Shoto inquires next, “are you sure, we read more and-”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” you manage to get out before throwing your face down and exhaling hard into a pillow. You feel your pussy throb as you cream on his tongue. He’s still not slowing down, determined to make you break. His hands now squeezing hard around your thighs, pressing you into him.

“I think someone’s in there,” Mina giggles.

“We should probably give them space, it’s the manly thing to do right?” Kirishima adds.

“Wait, I wanna know who it is!” Sero’s voice chimes in.

How many people are out there??

“In that case,” Momo adds, “[y/n], I made these for you. I’ll leave them out here, okay? Hope you’re being safe!” Something slides under your door but you can’t make out what it is.

You continue to hold your breath, clenching around his relentless tongue.

Finally, their voices trail off down the hallway. Bakugo (you should probably call him Katsuki after that) lessens his grip allowing you to roll onto your bed. Pulling your face away from the drool and bite mark covered pillow, you start to catch your breath. He presses himself up, rubbing his messier than usual hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a quick kiss on your forehead, his heavy footsteps make their way to your door and back before throwing a few condoms on your bedside table.

Useful. Thanks Creati.

“Ready now?” he grins at you.

He decides it’s his turn to be on top. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he slowly presses forward. His tip slides into your wetness and you feel yourself stretch around him. Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you like earlier - soft, passionate. He’s being so sweet you wonder how this is the same person who was just tongue fucking you, trying to get you to scream while all of your friends listened. The same person who grumbled and rushed past you this morning without a hello.

Considering his glacial pace, you weren’t really sure when it happened: he bottoms out in you before pausing. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, scratching them through his soft hair. Thoughts of who he was earlier blur away, taking in the feeling of him in you now. He slowly resumes movement.

His tongue inside you felt amazing earlier, but his dick is even better. Hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t even know you had. He sucks your bottom lip into his, gently nipping as he picks up the pace. You’re panting hard, kisses becoming sloppier. He thrusts into you, harder and deeper.

“Fuck Katsuki,” you moan, “gonna cum.”

“Do it. Cum on my dick,” he growls back, slamming harder into you.

Your throbbing cunt pulses around him while you scream in his ear (you'd feel bad but it's not like he can hear that well anyways.) Hands dragging down his back, pulling him in closer to you.

A jolt of pain amplifies your pleasure as his teeth connect with your throat. Biting down while he whimpers into your neck. You feel him pump into you, exploding white into you while you ride out the waves of your own orgasm.

As you both come down, you run your hands over his scared face. Wanting to cling to any moment of softness you can get from him. He closes his eyes, melting into your touch.

“Thanks for your help,” you whisper in his ear.

“Help? Oh. Yeah,” his gravelly voice is soft against your cheek, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, you don’t have to thank me.” He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty again.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, tying a knot in the condom before tossing it.

You stand up. No dizziness yet. You test your quirk. Almost back to normal.

He picks up another condom from the table, giving himself a few strokes before putting it on.

“Again?” you ask.

“You’re not through the quirk yet, are you?” His red eyes pierce through you and you know there’s no use trying to hide anything from him.

“Almost.”

“I can do better than almost,” he smiles and find yourself pressed into the wall again. His calloused hands running over you in contrast to his smooth lips leaving a trail of small pecks over your neck.

In one fluid motion, he grips the back of your legs, pulling you up while sliding you back onto his dick - this time faster with more ease. You gasp, clutching his shoulders while he roughly thrusts into you.

“ya feel so good on my cock, you’re doing so fucking good,” he chokes out between heavy breaths, "you look so fucking pretty taking me like that."

The pressure in your gut rises every time he pounds into you before spilling out, sending pulses of satisfaction through your whole body. You shove your head into his shoulder, crying his name while he fucks you harder. Toes curling as your heels dig into his back.

Before you can catch your breath, he throws you back on your bed.

Strong hands pull you onto your knees, your back arched, and face finding your pillow again. Grabbing your ass to bring you closer, he penetrates you again. His fast pace resuming, making you whimper into your pillow.

His hands find yours, bringing his elbows to either side of your shoulders. Groaning in your ear “ya sound so fucking pretty, louder for me,” as he plows into you. You scream, feeling yourself pulse around him as your pleasure cascades through you.

“Ka-katsuki” you whine, the sound of his name in your voice sending him over the edge.

With another hard thrust, he stutters his hips into you, exhaling hard. For the third time today, you feel him flex in you, filling the condom. You stop biting your pillowcase to look at him. His bright eyes staring back at you through heavy lids.

He thinks you look so fucked out and pretty on your tear-stained pillow.

“You did so good,” he breathes, “you feel better now?”

“Definitely”

Definitely better but

So.

Fucking.

Exhausted.

You know you should clean up more, go to the bathroom down the hallway but you’re so tired you can’t manage to do more than melt into your sheets. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Katsuki helping you get dressed for bed and wrapping himself around you.

A sliver of light slices through your room. Your hands move across the bed but it’s empty. Yesterday feels like a hazy dream. The ache between your legs reminds you it was definitely real. Your neck and hips are sore too, must have fallen asleep at a weird angle. Blinking your eyes open wearily, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.

Had to leave early this morning for extra training but let me buy you coffee. Text me when you wake-up and we can meet at that place on the edge of campus.

Katsuki xxx-xxx-xxxx

You check your phone.

[you have 57 new messages and 14 missed calls]

The latest few, from Mina, asking who’s in your room. Quickly, you swipe them away. That’s a long story and you’re not sure how you’ll tell it. You can deal with it later. You text Katsuki.

You [heading out now, meet at the coffee shop?] Katsuki [see you soon]

Getting ready in a rush, you quickly throw some pants on before brushing your teeth, pulling your hair out of your face, and heading down the stairs.

Walk normal you remind yourself on the way into the common room, trying to look like Katsuki hadn’t spent half of yesterday pounding his massive dick into you. The rest of the class doesn’t know that yet and considering that it’s new, you aren’t really sure if he wants them to know. That probably wouldn’t be the best way for them to find out, anyways.

Ochoco’s voice beams behind you “Hey [y/n], you’re alive! We were so worried about you!”

“Hey Ochoco! Yeah, I’m okay!” you yell back.

Hearing you’re awake, Mina runs from the couch to hug you. “Hey!!!” Her eyes widen. “You had a good night!” she says before giggling “I’ll text you!”

Mineta scoffs at the sight of you before getting far out of your way. Good.

Tsuyu, Iida, and Jiro all stare from the couch, they wave back politely but avoid eye contact.

Denki high-fives you.

Sero also high-fives you before running to the couch and handing Jiro money. Is this about beating up Mineta? They can’t possibly know about anything else.

Deku looks mortified. “Uhm.” He grabs at the collar of his shirt.

Is there something on your sweatshirt? Using the window by the exit as a mirror, you check.

Oh, shit. There’s more than something on your sweatshirt.

Tiredly, you assumed the hoodie you woke up in was yours; this one has a big white skull on the front. Peaking out above that, a massive bite mark covers half your neck. You pull the hood up but it still doesn’t cover it.

You [just looked in the mirror] You [why didn’t you warn me???] Katsuki [now everyone knows ur mine 🧡] [you have 8 new messages]

There's a part 2 now!!

more Bakugo here: m.list

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shrimpybbq · 2 months ago

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rafe and his pregnant high school gf! during her pregnancy

rafe and his high school gf used to spend hours by the pool during their summer break, but now it feels different as the pair lay on the pool chairs side by side

rafe can’t stop looking at his girl’s growing belly, the bump now large enough for all to clearly figure out what happened

the book she had been reading said his baby was the size of a banana or some shit, but ward keeps saying she’s going to have a big baby like rafe himself was

he hates to admit it, but he’s so turned on by the idea of her carrying his son in there (even if he didn’t really want the baby at first, he’s starting to see the benefits especially as he looks at her growing breasts)

after the ultrasound, he’s been so touchy and always finds a way to be near her

rafe getting his gf to come in the pool with him, just so he can hold her close and kiss her as much as he wants

rafe doesn’t fully understand pregnancy cravings, but he does try his best to help his girl by bringing her drinks and food so she doesn’t have to get up

he does get angry though when she wakes him up at night to tell him she’s craving a specific dish from the wreck. he gets so grumpy and isn’t being very nice when he notices the tears welling up in her eyes, his eyes widening as she begins to cry into his arms

rafe goes and gets her stupid meal from the wreck :)

rafe loves the reactions from the people at the country club when he brings high school gf to lunch one day. he’s got his hands around her waist as he walks through to the reserved table, smiling as the crowd start to whisper. yeah he did that, that’s his kid in there and no one can do anything about it

on a more canon note, after a fight with his dad, rafe gets super high on coke and disappears for a few days. he stumbles back to tannyhill on day 3 looking for his girl, only to find her sitting with Sarah worried and crying

he’s standing there with open arms saying “hey baby, why are you crying, I’m back” like an idiot thinking she’ll happily greet him

only to have her start screaming at him, crying and asking where he went for three days, Sarah rubbing her back soothingly and trying to calm her down. she’s telling him he can’t be doing that with a baby as she sobs

he’s so dumbfounded by her reaction that he can’t help but stare, but soon the pair are in a screaming match and rafe is hurling all sorts of insults at high school gf! (it’s his defence mechanism and even his gf isn’t protected from it)

rafe wakes up in his room later that day coming down from his high only to realise his gf has moved her things into the guest room, not wanting to be around him right now

he blames it on her hormones to topper and kelce, but part of him knows he fucked up really badly when she doesn’t move back to his room by the end of the week

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe x oc #rafe obx #outer banks headcanons #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x you #dad!rafe au #dad!rafe #high school gf! au

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yanderenightmare · 4 months ago

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TW: anger issues, abuse, angst

gn reader

Thinking about boyfriends with anger issues…

How it’s okay in the beginning because your relationship is still fresh, and you’re both trying your best to be perfect for each other. How it’s enough for you to tell him he’s being silly with a sweet kiss to his grumpy cheek when he’s acting grumpy and insisting on having some type of fight with you over something unimportant. It’s enough to defuse him at that point—your unnerving smile and kind eyes, how you’re able to touch him even when he feels nuclear. The knots untangle within his head, and he calms down. He doesn’t apologize, but he gets sheepish and plays dumb until he’s cracking you up with some dumb joke—so you forgive him anyway.

The fights get worse over time, but so do the good times. He’s so perfect when he’s good, you forget about the bad. And you’re still able to disengage, at least most of the time. You can leave or ignore and dismiss—you can even agree to be wrong sometimes, even when you’re not. It doesn’t really matter. Those arguments are never about who’s right anyway—it’s just about fighting to see who can outlast the other. You swear, sometimes it feels like you’re the accused on the stand in a courtroom, but the judge has vacated, and it’s just you against the lawyer hurling pointed question after question at you.

Oh, but then he brings flowers, makes you smile and laugh, does something romantic, and tells you sweet nothings that make you blush. It feels right when you move in together. You love him. And you know he loves you. He still doesn’t ever apologize for his behavior—at least not with words—but he tries making up for it otherwise. After particularly nasty fights, when you go to sleep without him and without sharing another word, he’s on his best and brightest behavior the day after—makes you breakfast, drives you to work, offers to pick you up, suggests you do something fun later.

It's soothing that he knows he’s in the wrong. It makes it easier to forgive him. Makes you believe he’ll change.

Only he doesn’t.

The bathroom becomes your escape, a space you can retreat to when you’re on the brink. You don’t want to cry in front of him—he can get so mean sometimes, and the tears just egg him on like it’s some game he’s winning. It doesn’t really dawn on you that you’re hiding from him. If you admit that to yourself, nothing would make sense anymore. If you admit that to yourself, you wouldn’t be able to defend staying with him. And so you can’t. You suppress it. You’re not hiding from him—if he were to come knock on the door to let him in, you’d let him in. So you’re not hiding from him. No, you’re just in there for a quick breath of your own and to give him a little space.

But though you deny it, he feels you slipping away—and it only serves to make him more combatant. Raised voices turn into roaring—you fear the neighbors might complain. Nothing works anymore. If you walk away, he follows angrier than before. If you agree to disagree, he’ll only use it against you. If you cry, he laughs.

The time you get as ugly as he gets and start fighting back with your own insults is when he puts his fist through the wall right next to you.

The house shakes for a moment, then stands still. All is silent. Neither of you moves. You’re as stiff as a mannequin, and your eyes have never been wider—and yet you don’t look at him. Your gaze is fixed at nothing in particular as if unable to look anywhere else. You have a hand against his chest—it shakes. He feels it, and it’s a gross feeling—worse than the pain in his hand.

And he knows. He knows he’s ruined it. He knows it’s the exact moment he’s lost you.

No, actually. He probably lost you a while back…

He pulls his fist out of the drywall—the thin plate follows him before he drags it out with force. Dust and fibers stick to his skin in blotches where the blood coats his hand, seeping from the splits on his knuckles. It stings, but it isn’t the worst. No, his chest feels worse.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely through the strain in his tightening throat. “I’m sorry.” He can never repeat it enough for it to be enough. Fuck, what’s he done? What can he do? There’s a gaping hole in the wall he has you pressed up against, and it’s about to swallow him up.

“You’re bleeding,” comes your voice—as from the break of light in a stormy sky that reminds him it’s still day. “We need to disinfect it.”

He doesn’t dare protest, even as it confuses him how trivial you are about it. He just trails after you as you take him to the bathroom and clean him up. Holding his damaged hand in both of yours while you guide it under the tap, rinsing off the debris and blood, letting it all go down the drain. He didn’t even know you had a first aid kit, but you seem well-versed for some reason—how you dab the cuts with alcohol-soaked cotton, then tape shut the deeper slits before wrapping it all in a strip of bandage.

You take him to the bedroom, but neither of you speaks. He’s afraid to. And yet, both of you say goodnight while lying on opposite sides of the bed. He doesn’t know what feeling it is that simmers within his chest, but it makes it the worst night of his life.

And still, he must have slept soundly.

You’re gone in the morning—you’re essential things with you.

It’s strange, but he isn’t even angry. No… You left a note for him, but he can’t read it—not through the swelling of his eyes as they burn with salt and water and regrets that know no end.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Shinso ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Ukai ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Eren, Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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recareels · 5 months ago

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⋆₊˚⊹♡ what they’re like during sex (aka how they fuck!)

anonymous asked: how do you think sunday and aventurine are during sex?

characters: aventurine, sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, rough sex, marking, overstimulation, consensual noncon, dacryphilia, implied blood, implied degradation words: 1k

⋆₊˚⊹♡ aventurine

aventurine is sadistic 97% of the time. aventurine needs to constantly push things to the extreme, to the very edge of a perilous cliff, in order to feel anything at all. as such, i think he has pretty hard kinks (cnc, heavy degradation + dumbification, marking/branding, impact play, bondage play, power dynamics but never total power exchange (he wants some fight in you or else it’s boring), dacryphilia, intoxicated sex/intoxication, exhibitionism in very risky locations). his cursed luck enables him to get sex easily and quickly, so simple vanilla romps just don’t do it for him. there’s no thrill, no spark, no fun, especially if the person is faceless, nameless, and thrown away the next day.

soft sex isn’t impossible with him but it is extremely rare, and you’d have to 1. be someone incredibly close and trusted to him, and 2. catch him at the right time, in the right mood (which is to say, he’d need to be really fucking upset, and be seeking solace or comfort in the form of flesh and pleasure). if you do manage to meet those two conditions, then consider yourself very lucky—you’re seeing a side of him that no one is ever allowed to see: small, vulnerable, weak. in a way, aventurine’s soft sex is more real, more raw. it’s honest; it’s hurtful. it isn’t exactly gentle, but it is slow and a stark contrast to his usual style of fucking, with all of it’s bites and bruises and blood. his breath is shattered, exhaled across your skin in shaky shards—half-stifled gasps that he tries to swallow against, nearly choking in the process; raspy moans that snag on sobs, stuttering painfully in his chest.

when he gets like this, he needs to fuck you in some form of missionary, needs to see your face and feel your breath, needs to crush his lips to yours as his eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking from the corners to pool along the seams of your conjoined mouths. he ruts into you in an unhurried but steady tempo, each thrust deep and drawn out, almost as if he’s taking a moment to memorize you—the trembling of your flesh when his hips collide with your ass, the fluttering of your hole around his shaft. when he cums on these nights, it isn’t brutal and frenzied the way it normally is, with jackhammering hips and snarled words; it’s with his cock buried in your body, head pressed flush to your aching cervix, hips gyrating in small, tight circles, grinding his cum into your sensitive flesh. it’s almost as if he’s attempting to burrow into you, to find a safe space, carve out a home for himself, and stay there forever.

aventurine is also extremely loud and extremely vocal. his dirty talk is impeccable, and his tone ranges from sugary sweet condescension, gooey words oozing from his lips like slow, silky syrup, to sharp and vicious, razored insults spit from his mouth as if they had sliced his tongue, hurled at you like daggers. his moans are clear and resonant, and he can get a little whiny when he’s close. he definitely has a penchant for sucking in air through his teeth in a harsh hiss (often chased by a deranged chuckle)—when he first sinks into your hole, tight and unprepared; when you bite him back twice as hard and pierce his skin; when you rip out a chunk of his hair, golden strands wound tightly in your fisted knuckles; when you land a good kick or a decent punch; when he finally pumps your womb full of thick cum.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday

sunday has range when it comes to his style of fucking; sometimes he can be soft, sweet, slow and sensual, rolling his hips with unhurried conviction and ensuring that his cockhead is gliding over your g-spot every single time. he murmurs out praises, tells you how pretty you are, how perfect you are, how precious you are when you sob while taking his cock, pace never faltering—a smooth, strong rhythm he keeps flawlessly as his tongue unfurls from his mouth to drag up your salty cheek in wide thorough strokes, consuming up your tears, then planting chaste kisses in their place. he breathes out encouragements, says you’re doing so well for him, promises you that you can take it for just a little bit longer for him, swears you can cum all over his cock once or twice more for him—he knows you can, and he’s going to show you, just like a good master would.

other times he’s fucking merciless, downright relentless, cock pounding hard and fast as he snarls out condemnations, fingers sinking into the flesh of your arms, your waist, your neck, your wrists and snapping vessels beneath their grip, leaving a smattering of five fingerprint-shaped blotches of violet to pool under the surface, or a ring of grotesque purple seared into your skin. his teeth are latching onto the back of your neck like he’s some sort of rabid animal, strong jaw flexing, burrowing ivory into your flesh until the skin splits and floods his mouth with pungent copper. this type of fucking usually occurs when he decides one of you is in need of an emotional stress relief, or when you’ve been ‘bad’ and are in dire need of punishment.

in either instance, sunday will often fuck you well past the point of coherency, positive that you haven’t been fucked nearly enough until you’re unable to hold your own body up, bones melted and muscles heavy; until you need his help to do literally anything; until you can only drool out his name and his title, sweet lil brain gone stupid from pleasure turned pain, or vice-versa. he’s an absolute god at aftercare, and finds a deep amount of self-satisfaction in the act, never failing to end a session with meticulous care, irregardless of how vigorous or vicious he was. it is unfathomably important to him to wipe you down and patch you up and make you all better again, tenderly humming out sweet nothings all the while.

in terms of noises, sunday emits mostly quiet little moans and breathy little haah whimpers when he’s sensual, and muted grunts and growls when he’s really fucking you harsh and rough—strained sounds that vibrate in his chest or claw at his throat with each ruthless slam of his hips, shoved back down by his tightly pressed lips.

#aventurine smut #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #sunday smut #sunday x you #sunday x reader #sunday x y/n #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #inky.aventurine #inky.sunday

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angelfic · 9 months ago

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— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott smut #theodore nott

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sunnami · 5 months ago

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the marauders as. . . whatever these love languages are (i).

a/n: i got addicted to writing drabbles. . .

“i’m touch-starved.”

there’s not a day where 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 isn’t holding onto you like a lifeline—a tether to this world when he feels like he’s about to float away. on mornings where he wakes up back in his childhood bedroom, portraits of jaundiced ancestors hurling insults at him as though he hasn’t already heard it all from his benevolent mother—he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, there you are. gone are the colorless walls of his early years, instead he’s drowning in the shades of you.

you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and the bursting hues of his devotion. he’s never been fluent in ‘i love you’ but for you, he wants to learn every language there is, so as long as you know that he is yours. yours to command, yours to throw away one day, yours to love��his soul and heart are utterly and irrevocably yours.

he pulls you closer to him because sirius black is a mad man, selfishly burrowing in your warmth like he’s been trudging through an eternal winter, desperate for light and the relief of your lips. sirius wraps his arms around your waist, as if to protect you from the sunlight—because you are his and not even the threat of tomorrow can take you away. he wants to stay close with you like this forever. until neither knows where they begin or end. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck—wondering if you’ll be cross if he pilfers a taste of your skin. the sound of your heartbeat is more beautiful than any orchestra symphony—he thinks your voice is what heaven’s choir is made of.

sirius splays his fingers on your bare stomach, his loose shirt riding up your waist. he aches, and oh, how he burns for you. he’s never been one for tears, but he finds that the reprieve of your touch can bring a wayward man to his knees. you are, in every essence, the answer to his prayers and the pardoning of his sins. he chases you like a drunkard drawn to firewhiskey—he’s afraid that you’ve gone and gotten him addicted to you.

to your fingers in his hair—tugging and pulling—then, to his tongue licking a trail against the column of your throat, your breath hot on his cheek, your nails digging in deep into his back, and the nights where love is spoken through fervent whimpers and whispers of adoration.

sirius knows it’ll be centuries until he becomes a man worthy of your love—but for now, he hopes you’ll let his arms protect you from harm, and his hands find solace in yours.

after all, you are the better parts of his soul.

a/n: i’m not sure if i hit the mark on touch-starved as a language BUT WE MOVE. remus next!

#sunny’s barbe-queue!#sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black drabble #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp drabble #marauders fluff #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #sunny's hp fics

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dearest-tobio · 4 months ago

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“out of us three, i never thought atsumu would get married first.”

miya osamu turns to face you, approaching him with two glasses in hand. he steals a second to admire you in the wisps of moonlight—you looked ethereal, always have been, but tonight most particularly. osamu rolls his eyes as he takes the glass from you, part disdain, part cheeky happiness for his brother.

“yep. never would’ve thought someone would want ta be with that idiot.”

you laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “give him some credit, ‘samu.”

it is but a nickname, one that you’ve called osamu since you were kids, but it still yields the power to soar his heart into the clouds.

“‘tsumu’s always been a charmer,” you continue, “getting confessions left and right.”

“i remember that one time, that girl from another class? she mistook you for ‘tsumu and ran away after she gave you a bunch of snacks along with a sappy love letter.”

osamu snorts, recalling all the instances that he was mistaken for his twin. growing up, they had similar hairstyles and interests. it was no surprise that people had a hard time differentiating between them.

maybe that was part of the reason why atsumu chose to dye his hair piss blonde as a first-year. of course osamu was roped into it, but he chose an unassuming grey finish instead. ma didn’t receive the change very well—she was angry for weeks—but osamu always thought it was worth it because of you.

he still remembers the first time you saw him with grey hair, bubbling worry in anticipation to what you’ll say. you noticed atsumu’s new style first, mocking his ridiculous shade in front of the whole team. even kita-san cracked a smile as you hurled insult after insult, immune to atsumu’s whines about how it was fashionably empowering.

“so did ‘samu get his hair done t—oh.”

your eyes met osamu’s, and you float over to him across the hard vinyl floor. your hand reached out across the air to brush the strands on the side of his head. in that moment, osamu realises he’s never felt so raw, so exposed. logic snaps at him to get himself together, but your touch was intoxicating. what was he thinking?

“you look good, ‘samu.” your soft smile is ingrained instantly in his head, as well as the words that follow after: “grey suits you.”

osamu brings himself back to the present, with only you and the cool night air for company. the wedding party inside is still going strong, but out here is a world of its own. out here, it’s quiet, and out here it’s only the two of you.

“you know, ‘samu. i’ve always wondered why you didn’t date back in high school up ’til now. i betted on you tying the knot first.”

all words seem to die in osamu’s throat—how can he explain that it’s you? it’s always been you? you, who stuck through all the late night cramming sessions. you, who came to each and every volleyball game. you, who stood by him at every hurdle that came at onigiri miya, until his onigiris were renowned all over hyogo.

he doesn’t want to imagine the day you text excitedly in the groupchat about someone you’ve met, the first date, and the second, and the third. he can’t place himself in that position, not now, not ever. but he keeps his secret to himself, for one more night. for the foreseeable future.

“i don’t know,” he replies. “guess i haven’t found that someone yet.”

masterlist

#memo: read me #memo: miya osamu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #inarizaki

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elssero · 3 months ago

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project partner

k.bakugo

-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..

maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.

it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.

you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.

“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”

wait what?

oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.

you did not like bakugo. not one bit.

you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.

at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.

you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.

however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.

sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.

you didn’t like him. not at all.

staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.

after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.

you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.

he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.

you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.

the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-

“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.

“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”

it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.

“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”

you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.

“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”

that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.

deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.

it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.

the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.

“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.

“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.

“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.

“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.

you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.

it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.

you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.

“wait your right…” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.

“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.

“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.

the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.

dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.

making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.

for fucks sake.

it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.

you nearly make it out- your so close.

“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.

“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.

what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.

“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.

“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.

“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.

“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“

“you should eat more.”

you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.

“goodnight bakugo.”

you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.

the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.

you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.

you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.

why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.

you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.

you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.

it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.

your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.

“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.

scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.

that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”

“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.

you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.

it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.

your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.

“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.

“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.

“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.

“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?

“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.

“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?

why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?

you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.

somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.

you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.

maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.

his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?

maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.

forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.

you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.

your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.

you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.

opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”

it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.

your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?

in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.

“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.

he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.

“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.

“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.

you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”

his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.

“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.

it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.

you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.

he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.

the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.

“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.

“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.

he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.

it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.

“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.

“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.

did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?

“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.

“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.

“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.

“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.

“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.

“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.

“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?

“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.

“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.

“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.

“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”

you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.

you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.

“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”

he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“right.”

he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.

he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.

he loved you- he had for years.

and you completely hated him.

#bnha #mha #mha x reader #fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x female reader #mha fanfiction #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki x izuku #bakugo katsuki x reader #angst #mha angst #mha x reader angst

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theostrophywife · 5 months ago

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toxic! theo who is your sworn enemy.

toxic! theo who struts through the castle halls with the other slytherins who you and your gryffindor friends hate with every fiber of your being.

toxic! theo who you get into screaming matches with, hurling insults left and right, and getting underneath each other's skin like no other.

toxic! theo who fights with you during the day but fucks you desperately at night.

toxic! theo who brings other girls to parties that he knows you'll be at just to make you jealous. leaning over to whisper in her ear and gripping her hips with the same hands that left bruises on your skin last night.

toxic! theo who stares right at you as some girl is kissing his neck, smirking because he knows it'll get a rise out of you as if it's not your marks littered all over his throat.

toxic! theo who clenches his fists and glares as you grind against some hufflepuff quidditch player whose name has long escaped you, smiling innocently as you raise your red cup in his direction and wink.

toxic! theo who licks his lips and feels the front of his pants tightening uncomfortably as you down the firewhiskey, wiping the remnants from the corner of your lips and sucking the juices off of your fingers so innocently.

toxic! theo who watches with barely concealed fury, dead eyes blazing as you place your date's hands on your hips, rolling them to the rhythm of the music and putting on a show for the whole party to see.

toxic! theo who gives you a warning look, danger lurking in his eyes as he curtly nods towards the dark alcove behind him, signaling you to follow. he doesn't look back to see if you've obeyed because he knows that you will. you always do.

toxic! theo who has you pressed up against the stone wall, the hem of your short dress hiked up around your waist so he can watch his cock slide in and out of your pretty little cunt.

toxic! theo who roughly tugs at your hair, fucking into you so brutally as he growls out, “think you can tease me and get away with it? you should really know better than to test me, dolcezza. what would your date say if he knew what a little whore you are for me?”

toxic! theo who tenses as you scoff, never balking at his possessive nature. “i’m the whore? you’re the one looking at me while that girl practically ate your face for the whole castle to see. I hope she likes the way my pussy tastes.”

toxic! theo who smirks, knowing that his cockiness will only further infuriate you. “aw, that’s cute. are you jealous, little lion? maybe I should pull back this curtain, hm? show everyone who you really belong to. do your friends know that you let your sworn enemy fuck you in the middle of their party? that you’re so desperate for my cock that you’d beg to ride me where anyone could see us?”

toxic! theo who levels a a challenging look at you, daring you to step out of line as his fingers curl around the thin fabric that separates you from the rest of the party, determination written all over his face because his threats aren’t empty. theo doesn’t give a fuck, he’d be more than happy to expose the two of you right then and there if it means having you all to himself.

toxic! theo who gets a sick sort of thrill as he watches the fire ignite in your eyes, scorching every inch of him with heat as you laugh humorlessly. “oh please, like you aren’t getting off on this too. you’d probably be thrilled if one of your little friends actually walked in on us. mattheo, maybe. he’s hot. I wanna know if he could fuck me better than you can.”

toxic! theo who grips your throat and slams you back, frustration written all over his expression while you merely smile because he’s giving you exactly what you want, indulging in the rough and hateful sex that you’d come to crave. “how many times do I have to fucking tell you? I don’t share. you can play your little games, but at the end of the day, we both know that you’re fucking mine.”

toxic! theo who you probably shouldn’t push, but you still do anyways because this fucked up little dynamic turns you on so much that you’re dripping, soaking him as he glares at you. “am I? perhaps I need a reminder, nott.”

toxic! theo who thrusts into you so roughly, splitting you apart with his cock and gagging your moans with his fingers as he hisses in your ear. “you’re such a fucking brat. i’ll fuck that attitude right out of you, principessa. now shut the fuck up and take it like the good little slut you are.”

toxic! theo who makes good on his promise, railing you until your eyes roll back, making you see stars as you cum with a cry. rough kisses bruising your lips as his hips stutter, spilling into you and filling you with his cum while he curses in italian under his breath.

toxic! theo who pulls out and stuffs all of his cum back inside of you before licking his fingers and tugging your ruined panties back on. “consider that a reminder. feel free to keep dancing with your little date. though I imagine it might be difficult with my cum dripping out of you.”

toxic! theo who smirks in triumph before you raise a brow, holding your chin proudly as you huff. “yeah? watch me, nott.” with every word, his short lived victory deflates as you straighten the front of his shirt with an innocent smile. “oh and if I were you, i’d cover up. wouldn’t want your date finding the marks I left.”

toxic! theo who panics as you pat his cheek, leaning in to leave another bright red kiss print on his skin. “find me when you get bored of that little ravenclaw of yours. maybe i’ll even let you eat my pussy, if you manage not to piss me off for the rest of the night. I always did like the view of you between my legs. it’s the only time you put that smartass mouth of yours to actual use.”

toxic! theo who is swearing up a storm as he watches you strut off, hips swaying side to side as he drips out of you, biting his lip so hard that he’s nearly bleeding when you toss your glossy hair over your shoulder and glance back at him, flashing a triumphant little smile. “night, nott.”

toxic! theo who knows he’s fucked, who knows that he’s going to keep coming back again and again, because he might be toxic but he’s met his perfect match in you. you’re just as crazy and hotheaded and insane as he is and he fucking loves it. theo couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else.

#yes I am insane but i'm tired of pretending like I don't need toxic theo more than air #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n

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burntsaltsblog · 5 months ago

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cruelty - billy butcher x reader

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

details: butcher is being a real ass, so you decide to run away for a bit <3

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

"Well, if ya' tried putting effort into any of these missions, then the rest of us wouldn't have to carry you around like dead weight."

Butcher's words hung in the air before piercing me. I met his gaze, waiting to see if he'd display even a tiny ounce of regret, but his face remained stoic, and his eyes bore into mine unapologetically.

No one said anything, and a tense silence encompassed the group. Everyone was waiting to see if I had a rebuttal to defend myself against Butcher's harsh accusation.

But I had nothing to say. For weeks, Butcher had been unusually nasty towards me, a complete switch from our old dynamic. Instead of his praise that I'd grown used to, he'd hurl nothing but criticism and bitter insults my way. And what made it worse was that he was charming to everyone else. Well, as charming as Butcher was capable of being.

The whole situation was disheartening and confusing because he and I used to be quite close. Yes, we had a significant age gap between us. But those years didn't hinder our ability to connect over our love of bizarre humor and sarcasm.

The rest of the boys assumed that we had had some misunderstanding or disagreement, but nothing of the sort had transpired. I had tried approaching Butcher to coax the reasoning for his cruelty out of him, but he brushed me off, refusing to give me the time of day.

But today was the last straw. I refused to linger any longer in an environment where I wasn't wanted or appreciated. Wordlessly and full of resolve, I turned on my heel and headed for the comfort of my room.

"Kid, wait," MM called, trying to fix the situation, but it was useless. I slammed my bedroom door behind me and slowly sank to the floor.

I didn't bother stopping my tears as they shamefully slid down my face. Through my blurred vision, I pulled out my phone and composed a text to an old friend.

Me:

Hey, do you still need help this weekend?

I used to be a drug dealer and ran in various questionable circles to support myself before I joined The Boys. But I still had friends from my former life that I kept in touch with, and every once in a while, I'd dip my toe back into the drug scene when they needed help with an extra burdensome deal. And right now, I was desperate for any excuse to get out of here.

Alex:

Have you changed your mind about joining?

Me:

Yeah, I have. It's an out-of-town one, right?

Alex:

Yup. We'll be gone for at least three days, so pack a bag. And you can crash here tonight because we have to head out early in the morning.

Grateful for the impromptu getaway, I packed my small duffle bag with my spare pair of black jeans, sweaters since it was getting cold outside, and other essentials like face wash and my phone charger.

Considering it was just past midnight, I didn't have to wait long before I heard the guys mumble goodnight to each other from the other side of my door before they all retreated to their respective rooms.

I waited five minutes to be safe before opening my door and peering out. The common room in our bunker under the pawn shop was empty, and I took it as an opportunity to sneak out. I tiptoed up the old wooden stairs and breathed a sigh of relief after bolting through the old store and out the door, letting the chilly New York air blow across my face.

The walk to Alex's apartment was short because I was already close to that side of town. And I arrived soon enough with my duffle bag in tow.

"You look like shit," Alex said, opening their apartment door and quickly letting me in.

"Well, hello to you too."

Alex snorted as they pulled me in for a hug before directing me towards the couch I would be sleeping on that night.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite!" They called, heading into their room to rest for the night.

I dumped my bag on the floor and fell onto the couch. It squeaked loudly in protest, and I felt several springs dig into my spine. But I wasn't complaining. Anything was better than sharing a wall with Butcher, knowing the hate he now carried for me. Besides, he snored terribly loud, which the entire group complained about daily.

After some extensive tossing and turning, I fell into a fitful sleep.

༺༻

"Rise and shine, motherfucker!" Alex yelled.

I jerked awake before immediately falling onto the floor. The decades-old carpet did little to cushion the blow, and I groaned loudly as my head throbbed in protest.

I peered up at Alex from my place on the floor and saw them holding two coffee cups. "Want some?"

"Yes, please." I rose gingery before sitting back on the sofa and accepting one of the steaming mugs. I took a small sip and nodded thanks to my friend.

"We need to get on the road in twenty minutes because our first client expects us to arrive at eight tonight. And I don’t want to be late so we can make a good first impression."

"I think the eighteen pounds of coke you're selling them should help win their approval," I said, taking an enormous gulp of the caffeinated beverage.

"Speaking of coke, I need you to help load it into the car. Come on."

༺༻

"You gonna answer that?" Alex asked from the driver's seat on our way to Bardstown, Kentucky.

"No. It's probably just spam."

Alex glanced from the road ahead to give me a knowing look. "I don't think any spam caller would ever waste their time calling the same person two hundred times."

"It's not my fault they're dedicated to their job," I mumbled.

My friend chuckled, shaking their head.

I rolled my eyes and finally peered at my phone after ignoring its constant ringing for six hours. Hughie had texted me a wapping eighty-seven times and called me fifty-one times, which wasn't surprising because he did tend to be a phone stalker. I scrolled through his messages, landing on the most recent one sent three minutes ago.

Hughie:

Look, I get that you're pissed at Butcher, and that's probably why you left. But please let us know that you're safe. We're freaking out over here.

I sighed heavily before I forced my fingers to type out a response.

Me:

I'm fine. I'm out of town helping a friend. Sorry to worry you. I'll be back on Monday.

I pondered over the words before deciding to go ahead and send it. It was a little colder and more direct than how I usually communicated, especially to Hughie. But I knew he'd understand.

Hughie's reply came within seconds. But before I could read it, the notification of an incoming call covered my screen. A lump formed in my throat when I saw Butcher's name flashing in front of my eyes. My thumb hovered over the 'accept' button before I shook my head and hurriedly declined the call. I am sure he only called to yell at me for disappearing, and I wasn't in the mood to be reprimanded by him.

"I can drive the rest of the way," I offered, returning my focus to Alex.

"No thanks, I'm good," They responded like I knew they would. Alex was very particular about driving and refused to get into an operating motor vehicle unless they were the one behind the wheel. I respected that, but it still felt like the right thing to do was offer so it didn't look like I was putting the burden of transportation on them.

My phone vibrated, notifying me that I'd received another text, and I reluctantly viewed the message.

Butcher:

I know you ignored my call.

Ok? And the sky is also blue. I'm so glad he's able to notice the obvious. At least there's nothing wrong with him in that department.

Just as I decided to ignore his text, his name lit up on my phone again, signaling another incoming call. I slumped in my seat, and groaned under my breath. Again, my finger pushed the red icon, sending him straight to voicemail. Not even a second later, Butcher began to call for the third time.

"You know," said Alex, "If you answered the phone, they might stop calling."

"I'd answer if it was anyone else. I refuse to talk to this particular person."

"Alright, have it your way," they muttered, changing lanes.

We fell quiet, and the only sound was my phone as it buzzed with a final text.

Butcher:

Please come back.

༺༻

"I'd say that was pretty successful," I declared as we pulled into our Kentucky motel the next day. We had just finished our final deal, and while it was a little tedious, Alex's client ended up being happy overall with their purchase and promised they'd do business again.

"Yeah, thank God," Alex replied, cutting the engine after pulling into a parking spot. "I'm just grateful you were there. I think your presence was a great influence. You're still a legend in the drug community," they smirked.

I laughed lightly. "I'm happy to help anytime."

"Watch out because I will hold you to that promise."

We piled out of the car, and I waited out front while Alex headed in to get the key to our room. It was just past one in the morning, and I glanced over my shoulder, staying on high alert.

Alex exited the front entrance and dangled a key triumphantly. After entering our room, we each fell onto a twin-sized bed, and I watched as Alex almost instantly fell asleep.

I curled up on the wrinkled comforter for a few minutes before sitting up and rummaging through my bag for my phone; it had died a couple of hours ago, and now was my first opportunity to charge it.

I had received a text from Hughie asking if I was ok, to which I replied that I was, and I hadn't heard from Butcher since I'd blocked him last night when he proceeded to call me every thirty seconds, disrupting my sleep.

With nothing else to do, I slipped my jeans off, stashed my handheld in the bedside drawer, rolled under the covers, and attempted to sleep.

༺༻

"That was fun. We should do it again sometime," Alex said as they pulled up to the pawn shop.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, it felt like old times."

We hugged before I got out of the car and looked up at the one building I wanted to avoid more than anything. Three days wasn't long enough, and I genuinely considered asking Alex if they wanted a roommate. But their jeep was already speeding down the road, so I had no choice but to enter the pawn shop and descend the familiar steps.

"You're back!" yelped Hughie as he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around me. I stumbled back before gaining my balance and returning the hug. "Yeah," I replied lamely.

I nodded to Frenchie and MM before they both turned to Hughie. "You ready?" MM asked, and Hughie replied that he was.

"D'accord, let's go," Frenchie said, and the three of them passed me as they headed upstairs and out of the pawn shop, leaving me alone with Butcher, who stood by the couch.

"Y'alright?"

I ignored his question and headed for the solitude of my room.

"Oi, I'm fuckin' talking to you." Butcher barked, and I heard his boots stomp in my direction. He wrapped a large hand around my arm, spinning me around. "Don't ever fuckin' do that again, ya' hear? You 'bout did me fuckin' head in, running off like that."

Butcher's face was inches from mine, and his warm breath fanned out across my cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to flare. "I guess you forgot that I can take care of myself," I muttered bitterly as I wrenched my arm from his grasp and pushed the door open to my bedroom. Much to my dismay, Butcher followed me in.

"What's with the fuckin' attitude?" he demanded, crossing his arms. "You're acting like a right twat."

I whirled around as I threw my bag onto the floor, my nostrils flaring. "Oh, so you're allowed to have an attitude, but I'm not?" I glared daggers at him. "Get out."

"No. We're gonna talk," Butcher pressed, standing his ground.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, too fuckin' bad, sweetheart. I ain’t leaving until you tell me what kind of stick is up your bum, and why the bloody hell you fucked off for three days without telling anyone."

"It's a free country, and I'm allowed to go where I please," I shot back. "Besides, I figured I'd give you all a break from carrying my dead weight around. I hear it can be quite tiring."

Butcher's mouth opened before he closed it, taking a beat before speaking, "S’that’s what this is about, eh? The fact that I called you dead weight the other night? No offense, love. But if a comment like that was enough to drive ya' out of town, you've gotten too sensitive."

"It wasn't just that one comment, William. It's the fact that you've been terrible to me for weeks now, and the shittiest part of it all is that I have no idea what I've done to deserve it!" I exclaimed, panting slightly as my shoulders rose and fell. Butcher raised a brow, and I scoffed, flopping on the bed. "Forget it. Now, would you mind kindly fucking off and leaving me alone?"

I turned away, and Bucther sighed quietly. A couple of seconds passed before the bed dipped behind me.

"M'sorry, alright?" he said quietly.

"Whatever, I don't even care anymore," I muttered, picking at the skin on the side of my nail.

"Yes, ya’ do."

My stomach flipped as Butcher carefully reached up and brushed the hair off my shoulder. "I didn't realize I was hurting ya' so much. I thought I was doing what was best."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, turning back to face him. A calloused finger traced my cheek before his hand fell limply in his lap. Even though Butcher never slept more than a couple of hours a night, this was the first time I'd seen him look truly tired.

"I needed to push you away, and I figured a bit of tough love would do the trick." Butcher's hazel eyes met mine. "I realize I may've gone a bit too far."

"But why would you want to push me away? I thought we worked well together." My voice grew softer. "I thought you liked me."

"Oh, love, my feelings for you go way beyond like."

My thoughts became jumbled as I tried to comprehend what Butcher was saying, and I struggled to form a response, but it all ceased when he cupped my face in his hand. I instinctually leaned into his touch, and my eyes drooped, feeling serenity from the simple contact.

"M'sorry. M'so fucking sorry," Butcher apologized again. But this time, I saw emotion in his eyes. "You're the most precious thing in my life, and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt ya'."

His lips gently grazed my forehead, placing a soft kiss there before continuing. “I'm no good for ya', doll. God only knows I'd fuck up an angel like you. In me own messed up head, pushing you away was the only way I could protect ya'."

"That's not true," I whispered, shaking my head, but Butcher didn't look convinced. "And even if it were true, I wouldn't care because I'm no saint either."

It was quiet between us, and our breaths were the only thing filling the small space. My gaze roamed Butcher's face before it fell on his lips, and I swallowed audibly.

"I want you, Billy."

Butcher looked torn. There was a deep crease between his brows, and his breathing grew quick as the seconds ticked by.

"I'll ruin you." His voice was rough, full of gravel.

"I'm already ruined."

Butcher's resolve began to fray before it split wide open, and his lips crashed into mine.

༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻

not my best work, but i hope you enjoyed it!

-xoxo

#billy butcher #billy butcher brainrot go brr #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #karl urban #karl urban try not to serve challenge #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher fic

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officialaemondtargaryen · 2 months ago

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone [part 2]

Summary: A collection of small moments that lead to falling in love with your roommate. This is a Modern Day!AU.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Author's Note: I hope that you all enjoy!

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, two oblivious idiots, pining, fluff, possible angst, sexual content, and, me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

Originally, you had made a bet with yourself that your silly little crush on Aegon wouldn’t last more than a week– then it was two, and suddenly a month had passed. Your feelings, much to your chagrin, had remained persistent.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying, either.

You had done anything and everything you could to stop thinking about him– kept your distance by taking extra shifts at work, joined an improv club, read approximately eleven new books, and even learned how to crochet so that you had an excuse to stay in your room 24/7. Worst of all was downloading that stupid dating app, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and they don’t say that the fastest way to get over someone is by getting under someone else for nothing.

The truth was a hard pill to swallow, however. No matter how many guys slid into your DMs and then ghosted after a couple of days of texting, no matter how many miniature cows you crocheted or books you read, you liked him. And not in the fleeting, passing kind of way that you’d originally expected. No, these feelings had taken a hold of you– rooting into you in the way that a stubborn weed roots into concrete.

Anyways, back to that dating app…

It had been a joke with yourself at first; a half-hearted swipe-fest with no real intent behind it. You weren’t actually looking for someone, more like waiting for someone to miraculously appear and make you forget about Aegon Targaryen. You were smart enough to know that Mr. Right wasn’t lurking on Hinge, but you figured there had to be someone out there who could temporarily distract you from his stupid, not-at-all beautiful smile, or the way he belly-laughed at your jokes that weren’t even funny.

The first guy to make it out of the 72-hour ‘Only-Talk-On-The-Hinge-App’ phase, and into the ‘We-Can-Start-Texting-And-Maybe-Plan-A-Date’ phase was a guy named Criston. Yes, you should have known by the name that it wasn’t going to work out, but he was dark and handsome– the complete opposite of the person you were actively trying to forget existed– and seemed interested enough in you to ask you out on a proper date. Sure, he was a bit boring via text, but you figured that not everyone can be as clever and witty as you, and you owed it to yourself not to write him off yet.

Aegon was sitting on the couch playing video games when you walked down the hallway and into the living room. You had been listening to him chatter with his online friends for the past hour and a half as you got ready for your date; his voice carrying through the thin walls of your shared apartment, hurling profane insults at random children and laughing along with his friends at the crude jokes they’d tell each other (their mother’s would be ashamed). You didn’t look at him when you entered the room, but you could feel his attention immediately shift.

He paused the game mid-action, pulling his headset loosely around his neck, and turned to look at you. The sudden silence of the room made you hyper-aware of his eyes on you as you made your way into the kitchen to grab your purse from the counter. When you finally turned back to the living room, you finally caught his stare.

His mouth was slightly agape and he swallowed hard before saying, “Where you off to?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he turned back to his game, pulling his headset back up over one ear so that he could still hear your response. Your shoulders fell just slightly as he turned his back towards you as if he didn’t care to hear the answer at all, as if your sudden appearance hadn't just thrown him completely for a loop and rendered him nearly speechless.

You straightened up and smoothed your dress and walked over to check yourself in the mirror one last time; delicately fixing a few fly away hairs and ensuring there wasn’t lipstick smeared on your teeth. “I am going on a date,” you told him with more confidence than you actually felt.

There was a brief pause and then he muttered, “A date, huh? Good luck with that.”

You caught his eyes in the reflection of the mirror and turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow at the sarcasm in his tone. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was jealous, but that would mean that he actually cared, and you didn’t want to get your hopes up more than they already were. Before you could think too much about it, Aegon quickly looked away, dismissing you as he immersed himself back into his game, seemingly ending the conversation.

Not sure how to feel, you turned on your heels towards the front door without another word. You had half-hoped that you would have elicited more of a reaction from him by choosing this particular outfit, and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed by the interaction; chalking it up to him just being a typical, clueless guy who probably didn’t even notice how much effort you had put into looking like that— because none of them ever did.

“Hey!” Aegon called out just as you stepped into the foyer. You stopped in your tracks, leaning back against the doorframe and cocked your head to the side to see what it was he wanted. “You, uh– you look really nice,” he added, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden compliment.

"Uh, thanks," you replied bashfully, not knowing what else to say as you tried to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your cheeks.

The moment that you left your apartment you realized that this date was surely pointless, and that was made crystal clear from the second that this Criston guy had slid into the booth across from you more than fifteen minutes late. Despite the fact that he was the one to initiate the date, you were the one who chose the place and time; deciding on a comfortable hole-in-the-wall Italian joint that you enjoyed but didn’t get the chance to frequent often. They had a live jazz band that played on Friday evenings, which was perfect for a first date– intimate enough to set the mood with enough distractions to fill any conversational gaps.

And unfortunately for you, there were plenty.

Turns out that Criston was just as dull– if not more so– in person as he was over text. He only spoke when spoken to, answering your questions with stiff, one-word responses that made you feel like you were conducting a job interview rather than enjoying a nice dinner with someone that you were trying to get to know. You did what you could to steer the conversation toward more lighthearted and fun topics, like movies and music– the typical things two people would discuss on a first date– but every attempt was met with a flat, almost disinterested tone.

By the time the entrees had arrived, you had resigned yourself to the fact that this was a dud, and in doing so, you found yourself retreating to the very thoughts you had set out to avoid– Aegon.

As hard as you tried to stay present, unlike your date, the comparison was unavoidable. Criston’s lackluster personality and quiet brooding left you too much space to think; to imagine Aegon’s laugh, the way he teased you without a filter, making even the most boring moments feel like they had spark. The jazz band was a saving grace– offering you an excuse to zone out during Criston’s long, awkward pauses. But even then, the music seemed to remind you of the nights you'd spent in your shared apartment, secretly listening to Aegon strum his guitar in the other room, filling the air with a familiarity that always made you feel… at home.

Halfway through dinner and long after the conversation had fully flatlined, your date decided that it was time to make his move. He pushed back his chair and stood up, and for a split-second you were expecting that he was going to ask you for a dance, but then he mumbled something about needing to go to the restroom and grabbed his phone and keys before leaving.

At first, he was headed for the general direction of the restrooms, but quickly- and without hesitation- pivoted towards the entrance; practically jogging out the door, without so much as a glance back in your direction. Instead of feeling the least bit shocked or upset, you just sat there, fork hovering over your plate, staring at the door, thinking to yourself, “well, that tracks.”

Honestly, him leaving mid-meal was probably the best thing that could’ve happened.

You were off the hook from having to finish this awkward, disaster of a date, and wouldn't have to pretend that you were interested in seeing each other again only to be ghosted later on. You didn’t even mind getting stuck with the bill, knowing that this was the universe doing you a solid, and that you no longer had to waste any more of your evening trying to make small-talk with a guy who clearly had the personality of a brick wall.

Aegon was in his room when you got home, the soft strumming of his guitar coming to a halt the moment that the door clicked shut behind you. Silence replaced the gentle melody, and you could suddenly feel the weight of the evening's disappointment pressing down on your shoulders. Just as you slipped off your shoes and took a deep breath, Aegon appeared in the hallway, his hair slightly tousled, a hint of curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“You took a to-go box?” He asked, following you into the kitchen. You sighed in response, not wanting to talk about it. “Inn’t that like the Cardinal Rule of datin’ that you shouldn’t take a box home on the first date?”

“Considering that I had to pay for both my meal and his as he ghosted me in the middle of dinner, you best believe I brought my leftovers home,” your tone was laced with exhaustion and annoyance, not wanting to be interrogated or lectured. “Just mine though, not his, Alfredo?”

You shoved the box into his hands and grabbed a wine glass out of the cupboard.

“Here, let me,” he said softly, setting down the styrofoam box and taking the wine glass out of your hands. “There’s a freshly rolled joint on the livin’ room table, go, put your feet up. I’ll be right behind you.”

You wanted to protest but Aegon silenced you with one look, gently nudging you towards the living room with his elbow. As you settled into the couch, you could hear him shuffling around the kitchen, the soft clinking of glasses and the low hum of the fridge opening. You stretched your legs, sinking deeper into the cushions, and let out a long, steady breath; shutting your eyes for a moment and allowing yourself to be comforted by the space– the safety of it. This was home. Not the walls or the furniture, but the feeling of it. Strange how it never felt like this until Aegon moved in, at least not that you could remember. And now, he belonged here just as much as you did, his presence somehow made the air feel warmer, more settled.

“Here you are, m’lady,” he said smiling, as he handed you a generous serving of Pinot.

“Mm, thank you,” you smiled as you took the glass and indulged yourself with a long sip.

Aegon nudged your legs gently, signaling for you to move them, and you obliged with a soft sigh, letting him sit down beside you. As soon as he was settled, he pulled your legs back into his lap, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles on your calf. It was a small gesture– simple and unspoken– but it sent an explosion of warmth throughout your body, spreading from where his fingertips grazed your skin and settling deep in your chest. His touch was suddenly all that you could think about, and why is it so warm in here?

You weren’t used to this, not from him—this quiet, effortless closeness. You had never been this physically intimate before, and yet, it didn’t feel awkward or out of place. Instead, it felt... natural. Like some unspoken shift had occurred between you both, and this was just how it was now; the air instantaneously buzzing with a different type of energy. His touch was no longer just a fleeting moment as you moved around each other in the kitchen in the mornings as you fixed your breakfasts before work; it lingered, deliberate, almost soothing. Every soft stroke of his fingers made you acutely aware of how intimate this moment really was.

“So,” he said, turning slightly towards you, draping one arm across the back of the sofa– the other was still placed gingerly on your calf. “You met this guy where? Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, Fetish.com?”

You gave him an immediate side-eye and he smirked. “We met on Hinge.”

“Interestin’, I thought that one was the more superior app,” he shrugged and took a drink from his glass. “What happened?”

“Other than the fact that he had the personality of a wet napkin?” You sighed, leaning your head back against the cushion. “Honestly, Aegon, I should’ve seen it coming. He was a shit texter, but I kept telling myself maybe he’s just better in person. Nope! Still shit! Truth be told, the most interesting thing he did all night was ghosting me in the middle of dinner.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s low, even for the sad state of modern dating,” he muttered as his soft smile was replaced with a frown. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sure it was humiliating.”

You replied with a nod, taking another sip of wine. His fingers continued their gentle tracing along your calf and you felt another wave of warmth roll through you, but convinced yourself that it was just the wine.

“I’m just... over it, you know?”

He only nodded in understanding, allowing a comfortable silence to settle in between the two of you. The sounds of the city drifted in through the open window; the faint murmur of traffic, the distant laughter of a passerby talking on their phone, a warm, late summer breeze stirring the curtains– it all just faded into the background as you became consumed by your thoughts.

Aegon shifted slightly, his hand still resting on your leg as he set his glass down and reached for the joint on the table. With a flick of his lighter, he lit it and took a slow drag before passing it to you without a word. Your fingers brushed his as you took it from him, the contact lingering longer than it should have, and nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. You brought the joint to your lips, hoping that it would help you calm down before you did something to ruin the moment, and exhaled the smoke with a tiny cough.

His eyes lingered on you as you took another hit before passing it back to him. You were desperate to know what he was thinking, but you were terrified that if you opened your mouth to ask, every pathetic thought you had about him would come spilling out.

“Do me a favor, yeah? No more dating apps.” His voice cut through the haze, fingers tracing delicately along the outside of your ankle now. “Those twats online only want one thing and you deserve so much more n’that.”

“Oh, it’s already been deleted,” you grinned, sneaking a glance at him.

“Good,” he smiled and moved to get up off of the couch, you immediately mourned the loss of his touch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my lovely roommate was nice enough to bring home her leftover Alfredo and I’ve got a serious case of the munchies.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch as the harsh reality sank in.

This wasn’t just a silly little crush anymore– no, there was a reason why every attempt you made to push him away only resulted in him reeling you further in. It was sickening, really, once you realized it and how you suddenly wanted to scream it from every open window. The sensation made your stomach churn and simultaneously gave you butterflies, and goddamnit.

You were so in love with him.

Tag List: @primroseluna, @elllielewiss, @mrs-starkgaryen, @watercolorskyy, @st-eve-barnes, @seaheaded , @roxiphera

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idyllicwillowtree · 9 months ago

Text

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.”

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile.

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously.

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile.

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy.

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

“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink.

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change.

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you.

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there.

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense.

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried."

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile.

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile.

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

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Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct.

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

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