#he deserves so much care and positive attention and love and genuine affection

[rancid-rot]

[just-jordie-things]

Ohhh then can I ask for 37 prompt with gojo

Cuz why do I feel like this man would have the most awkward crush kiss with his so in high school scenario

went out on a limb and guessed u meant 38 but if u want 37 lmk! <3

38: Awkward Teenage Crush Kiss ___

gojo satoru had no fears. he was the strongest man in the world and he'd known it since he was old enough to know anything. he was overbearing in his confidence, and had been a cocky little shit since he could walk. still, the world bowed down to him, out of respect, out of fright, it didn't matter, they bowed.

being treated like royalty a god came with and odd warping of a young kid's mind. for the first fifteen or so years of his life, satoru would have told you that he loved it, he loved the praise, he loved the admiration, he loved his own force of sheer power- and that wasn't exactly untrue now, now that he was nearing graduation and ready to make a proper debut as a jujutsu sorcerer.

but there was definitely somethind different about him now. now that he'd had a glimpse into the dark realities of jujutsu society, now that he had an understanding of what he was really fighting to protect. his mind was growing, he was evolving, and it had slowly happened before your eyes as you spent your years right by his side, as his classmate, and then his friend, and now...

you'd definitely had some kind of effect on satoru, he'd known that much for a while now. something about your relaxed presence seemed to wrap him up and calm him, too. your usual indifference to his banter or flirting often had him flustered, bewildered by your fond eyes and sweet smile. you actually cared for him, you actually enjoyed his company, and you didn't keep these a secret from him.

you greeted him delightedly when he'd return from missions or join you for lunch, throwing your arms around him with the same excitement either way. had he been gone for weeks or hours it didn't matter, your eyes crinkled with your joy at his presence beside you.

and for the very first time, satoru doesn't know what he's done to deserve such treatment. he can't recall a definitive moment where there had been this shift in your relationship, when he'd started thinking about you even when you weren't there. and he certainly tried to remember, he'd lay awake late into the night racking his memory for what it was he'd done to earn your affections- even if they were friendly. but he never got anywhere, and most nights drifted off to sleep thinking about the warm way you smiled at him, and the sweet way you spoke to him.

it's a few nights before you're going to properly graduate when he finally works up the courage to ask you about it.

(gojo satoru has never had to convince himself to be courageous in his life. he simply was)

you're focused on the movie that the two of you had made plans to watch- the second part of a trilogy you'd been excited about and therefore satoru insisted you made the time to watch them all together- when he breaks the silence with his sudden question.

"why do you like me?"

you give him a double take, at first sending a soft smile his direction having expected a random comment, only to realize what he'd actually asked you, and now you're furrowing your brow.

you kick your legs out across his bed as you mull the query over, as though genuinely trying to find an answer, and satoru frowns when you don't instantly give him a reason.

"do you really need me to tell you?" you ask with a giggle of amusement.

"why else would i ask?" he says with wide, impatient eyes. you giggle again, always finding joy in his company, somehow.

"cause you like praise" you respond honestly. satoru's brows fall as he gives you a bored look, but you just shrug your shoulder before turning your attention back to the movie.

satoru shifts in his previously comfortable position to face you, crossing his legs in his lap as he leans into your personal space.

"you're really not going to tell me?" he whines.

"you don't need me to tell you," you let out a breathless laugh, a little surprised by his antics today. "we've been friends for years, you know exactly why i like you"

"well, you could still tell me" he tilts his head, and you smile in admiration as soft wisps of white hair sweep across his forehead.

"i don't need you to tell me why you like me" you point out, leaning your head back against the wall. satoru pouts, now that you've given up what he was going to use as leverage.

"can you just give me a hint?" he huffs, and your smile widens brilliantly, as though you've never been in a better mood than you are right now.

all of the time you spent with satoru felt like that.

"you're so dense sometimes," you sigh at him. "but you're probably my favorite person on the planet"

that makes him smile- and it makes his face warm, too, which you can see, and you take great delight in it.

"really?"

"really," you affirm in a soft voice. "i like you because you're unlike anyone else i've ever met, and i imagine i never will meet someone quite like you,"

you give in, because it's hard not to when he's looking at you so intently. you wonder if he knows that he has this power over you, or if he's clueless about it, too.

"i like you because you know exactly who you are, and you've never been afraid to be that person," you continue fondly. "i like you because you're the nosiest, most involved person in the world, and you make a great effort in making sure i'm okay, safe or fed or having slept well, you put more time in making sure i'm taking care of myself- and taking care of me when i can't- than you've ever turned around and given to yourself,"

you sit up off the wall now, brows pinching in just the slightest as you think through what you wanted to tell him next. your eyes flicker over his features as you edit and retract words in your mind. satoru looks like he's never focused harder in his life, hanging onto your every word, and then tucking them carefully into a special spot in his chest that must be for you because it warms whenever you're around, by his side or in his mind, that spot seems to buzz with life and excitement.

a smile twitches on your lips before you speak again.

"i like you because the way you treat me- the way you make me feel has helped me learn how to like myself," you muse. "because i know if you see something in me worth sticking around for... then that something must be there"

satoru's heart is hitting against his chest so hard he can feel it in his ears, and he thinks it might just sucker punch it's way through his ribcage and into your hands.

or maybe it's been in your hands all this time?

his eyes flicker between yours as you share shy smiles and nervous, breathless laughter.

yes, he thinks with absolute certainty, his heart has been yours all this time. and deep down he realizes he must've always known it, because you made him feel just the same way.

you'd always been more than a friend, you'd been his person, the only person that stuck by him and put up with him through and through- and you'd never found it to be a chore. you were his favorite person, and just as you said yourself, you always would be.

"i want to kiss you,"

he blurts it out, and his face is pink with the slight embarrassment of not having conducted himself in a bit more of a romantic way, but he can't help it. your eyes go wide before they soften, and you're smiling back at him in pleasant surprise.

"i mean i-" satoru huffs, rolling his eyes at himself before moving closer to you, staring at you with a heaviness you'd never felt from him before. it had your heart doing somersaults as you waited for him to say what he meant. "can i kiss you?"

this time it comes out soft, his gaze falling to your lips before you answer, already swept up in the idea of kissing you that he's running his tongue over bottom lip with anticipation.

"yes"

your answer falls from your mouth in a murmur and not even a second passes before his lips are on yours, firm and sweet and kissing you with such a desperation you could almost believe the world was ending and this was your only chance.

you kiss him softly, languidly, taking your time as you slant your mouth over his and try to commit every detail of being this close to him to memory. but it's not long before you throw all caution out the window and your hands are awkwardly grabbing at him- his collar, his shoulders, his hair- it's like you're unsure what to do with them, but in reality you're just eager to take in every second of this moment.

as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, testing all new waters, you both grow sloppy in your movements. he's practically pawing at you, pulling you close, his hands gliding everywhere they can reach and in turn you're pressing into him until your nose is smushed into the curve of his, soft pants falling against his lips before you're kissing them again.

it's messy, it's uncoordinated, and if you weren't in your body right now you would laugh at the sight of the two of you kissing so madly you aren't even bothered when your lips clash at awkward angles, with you accidentally kissing his teeth and his own kisses landing on your chin, or your cupid's bow. if you truly were out of body, though, you'd realize that you hadn't even cared- or seemed to notice at all.

it was a bliss only the heavens could bequeath upon you, and despite having all the time in the world, you and satoru were happy to rush through your kisses, letting your excitement get the better of you.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[nehime]

❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞

Summary. Both lovers, depressed, not even happy with their relationship, still knowing they love each other. Maybe they should give up and love each other in the fog.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. angst, hurt/no comfort

You remember what your best friend said to you last month. She apprised you that he didn’t love you nor that he would ever love you. “Don’t believe in his stupid statement. He can’t even stay with a girl for 2 months trust me.” That’s what she had said. But you wanted to give it a chance. You told her you craved for love. You told her you could fix him. Well more like he ruined you.

You were laying on your bed, shivering because of the coldness. You didn’t even bother to cover yourself with your duvet. It was a tiring day, and you did not expect Geto to be home, like always. You just went to your bedroom and slept peacefully. It was almost midnight when Geto came home. You weren’t a heavy sleeper so you woke up due to the sounds of door locks. A tall, long haired silhouette stood in front of you, worn out guise lacing his face, dark circles around his eyes. “You’re home..pretty late” you uttered as you took a look to the time. “Yeah, were you sleeping all day?” That damn feeling in your gut when Geto spoke those words. Guilty feelings hovered over your head and heart, aching your soul.

He was a busy man. Geto is supposed to take care of the ceo position when his dad retires. It’s his duty after all. During his university days he was never this busy. Being the unstoppable friends with Satoru, having girls hovering over him, changing them like his brand new clothes. Now that he is in a genuine relationship with you, he’s more of a gentleman, yes you can agree with that. But still you longed for his love and care. You yearned for him. Sometimes you would just want to give up on everything and leave your country, your hometown. With or without Geto.

“Did you eat? Want me to make something for you to eat? I know it’s late but i could make you a meal” Concern took over you as you stood up and ran quickly towards the kitchen. “Y/n it’s okay.” he says calmly, resting his head on the headboard. “What do you mean it’s okay? I’ll make something quic—”

“—I said it’s okay.” He declared harshly, slapping you with his words. “Let’s talk about us” You were not feeling well anymore, his words hit you firmly in the stomach. You slowly exhaled as you walked up to Geto, taking a seat beside him. “Go on” you gave him the permission to start the talk. “Do you think i’m giving you the affection and the attention you deserve?” no. “Do you think i’m loving you right?” no. “Do you think the care i have for you is enough?” still no. You were tearful as he brushed your hair with his fingers, leaning to kiss you. “And do you want me to stay with you after all of this?” yes. No matter how much you missed for his company, you still didn’t want him to leave you.

“No.” You fought back with your heart to get those rough words out. You just wanted to live happily with an loving partner that cares for you. Never him. “That’s all i needed to know” You could see the bold thwarted and hurt feelings in his deep eyes. Making you sob and bawl your eyes. You loved him too much it’s menacing. He stood up and went over to the doorstep. “You’re leaving?” You utterly reached for his hand, standing in the dim light of the room. He snatched his coat and got ready to leave. “Sometimes lovers give up when they’re too deep in love” That’s all he had said before leaving you, standing there, sobbing and screaming his name for the rest of the night. He was surely never coming back.

[akutasoda]

Could I please ask for a jealous Jouno x kianna reader like say he meets her because she is one of the hunting dogs and she distances herself from everyone because she clearly doesn't trust any of them but she kind of has a soft spot for Tecchou seeing she's less cold and Stern with him because she can actually trust him and she shows more of her soft and gentle side to herself to him and let's say jouno catches feelings for her and jouno is jealous that he gets most of her time and a bit of her affection and the rest is up to you

By the way she is an OC of mine you can find more information about her on my page here on Tumblr and you don't have to take this request if you don't want to

would you always pick him over me?

synopsis - even if you were slow to open up to people, why'd it have to be him first?

includes - jouno ft tecchou

warnings - fem!reader, oc based off belongs to @nunezs-stuff, fluff, mentions of jealousy, pining, unresolved feelings, wc - 894

a/n: hello! please feel free to let ne know if i mischaracterized your oc in anyway!

they say one if the key things to becoming a successful hunting dog is excellent communication, especially within missions. but sometimes one's skill could make up for their lack of natural communication skills. and so under that one circumstance, you had managed to rangle a role as a hunting dog.

it was by choice that you didn't communicate much with people, you always found yourself distancing from others no matter who they were and mainly under the guise that you couldn't trust them and therefore severly limited the contact. even if it was highly encouraged for someone in your role.

but even so you proved worthy of being in such an honoured position and seemed to garter the attention of a particular hunting dog. jouno cared little for you when you were first introduced, if anything he strongly resented your silence and stand-offish nature. it gave him the wrong initial assumptions.

and in spite his initial opinions, as he found himself on more missions with you he started reading you in a different light. no more did he think you were rude and blunt but more as though it added to your charm. it was who you were and he ended up loving that about your personality - especially because he could be the same sometimes.

slowly over time those new feelings blossomed further into a longing sensation of something he didn't understand. or he did understand and refused to believe you had that much of an effect on him. and thus he buried any future feelings beneath the very little interactions he had with you, treasuring them even though he felt as if was quite far deep into regretting not pursuing his feelings.

regret that seemed to come in the form of two of his colleagues interacting. despite your adversion to talking with and even being near people you had felt a click with tecchou. oerhaps it was because you both had adversions to conversation if absolutely necessary. and while you never trusted him fully, you knew you could trust him a little but more than everyone else.

eventually letting down a few walls around him, becoming less stern and more open towards him. and the more you hung out with him, the more you felt the two of you truly understood one another and could become somewhat trusting. however, unbeknownst to jouno, you and tecchou saw these feelings as purely platonical and nothing more.

at first jouno had interpreted it as you finding your feet among new colleagues, but after he could start telling that you were being so genuine and spending alot of your time with him he couldn't help but become somewhat jealous. why did tecchou deserve your time and kind words while all he got was a few sentences and mission time with you?

never in his entire life would jouno imagine he would become jealous of jouno of all people. but he couldn't help but narrow his eyes at wherever he heard you two in the room as you often stood near to the other. and while you may not understand your feelings that well, you could tell how jouno felt. everyone practically could.

you didn't like the fact that he so clearly stewed around in his jealousy and never bothering to approach you about it. while you barely trusted him enough for something like that, a part if you reckoned you should give him a chance to get closer to you and see how you felt about it then. only if he got over his childlike jealousy.

but considering the fact he constantly pushed away his feelings you felt that if you didn't tell him to buck up his ideas and atleast try a bit to get to know you, then he should just forget the whole idea. you were always straightforward.

he did initially deny anything he had for you but realising it got him no where, he stopped. you rarely talked to him much and he knew not taking this opportunity would be something he would regret later on deeply.

and he never minded how slowly your relationship progressed, he did sort of prefer it that way. he still held jealousy toward tecchou but he understood you two had gotten along much quicker and he was just thankful that you gave him a chance. while you still were very silent, he just learned that it was a charm of yours and eventually he did learn to like it in some way.

you often distanced yourself from others, so this did scare you slightly but somewhere along the line you learnt that maybe jouno wouldn't be that bad to open up to. slowly but if he didn't like your oace or even respected it than that would just show the nistake. but he didn't and if anything you both could see something, but you still had a long way to trusting him.

[yes0another0outsiders0blog]

General Headcanons : Sandy

warning : cheating

is generally seen as a "good girl," keeps up a kind of girl-next-door image, but can be hella toxic

loves the idea of simple pastoral pleasures, doesn't actually care for the work or small community that comes with more rural areas

modern!Sandy would EAT UP playing Animal Crossing while ignoring any real world chores, live that digital aesthetic dream queen

loves animals like guinea pigs, chinchillas, and bunnies

has kept pet bunnies on and off, when she has the space/money for them

terrified of snakes

on-and-off a waitress all throughout her life

freckles super easily, also tans pretty well, rarely burns

if you left her completely on her own and uninfluenced she'd probably be a good person

she genuinely wants to do good

but her main motivation in basically everything is attention

as long as someone is giving her a good supply of positive attention, she is utter putty in their hands

which is why she felt so in love with Soda, because that dude is FULL of affection. he would do ANYTHING that she asked of him, and she LIVED for it

but the second he wasn't around and someone else was paying her any attention? that was supply, baby!

she had broken up with him more than once because he wasn't having his life revolve around her enough for her liking

(huge red flag, which Soda ignored because Sandy is just so sweet and beautiful and good when she wants to be)

she did genuinely love him about as much as she was able to... just not nearly as much as she loved attention

so when someone new came along, she couldn't *possibly* tell him no

felt bad afterwards every time, but that doesn't change the fact that she let it keep happening

when Soda basically said he'd stay with her after she got pregnant and begged her to stay, that was probably the first time Sandy actually put someone over herself

again, she did love him in her own way. she didn't think he deserved to be with her when that was all he'd get (because it WOULD happen again, she was confident of it), so she left

Evie knew Sandy was cheating. she tried to talk her out of it, didn't respect her for it, but ultimately didn't say anything because she didn't want to deal with tension in the group (of her, Sandy, Soda, and Steve)

Steve didn't know, but thought Sandy had bad vibes. had fought with Soda about it SEVERAL times, brought it up to Evie to just get an awkward "idk babe..." kind of response, and had frankly given up bringing it up when Sandy was being lowkey shady

goes from farmer's daughter pastoral dream aesthetic to beach bunny in an INSTANT, doesn't actually love the beach and is just in it for the aesthetic just like before

has a son, her grandmother raises him

doesn't think "huh, mayhap I'm a horrid person and should actually work on myself" until she's in her mid 20s

but plenty of people go their WHOLE life never getting there, so good for her I guess

[akaisentouki-a]

THE ODDLY SPECIFIC HEADCANONS ;;

what does you muse smell like?

Passionate Spicy Cinnamon

what do your muse's hands feel like?

If you run your fingers across his palm and the backside of his hand, his skin is soft to the touch. Though in contrast, the pads of his fingers are a bit more on the rougher, more calloused side, which is especially noticeable in the bends of his fingers due to his stunt work he does and from playing basketball.

what does your muse usually eat in a day?

Whatever he is in the mood to eat. It can revolve around fish. It can revolve around pork. Perhaps a bowl of udon noodles. He'll also eat foods that can be on the more unhealthy end, especially when it comes to fries and burgers. Of course, if able, he'll get some fries with his meals as they're his favorite. He just will not touch anything that has eggplant. Any other vegetable? Fine, but eggplants are a big no.

does your muse have a good singing voice?

Yes. Though it is not a voice that is fine-tuned to perfection. His voice is loud and boisterous that carries itself in his songs. It is a tad bit rough around the edges from time-to-time, but it has gotten significantly better and more smooth through the years he's been able to properly sing as a member of RYUSEITAI.

does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

He is quick to jump to conclusions. This becomes frequent when chats revolve around the paranormal or mysteries that delve into horror aspects. He's quick to hide when anything is bothering him in front of those he wishes to be cool around. He has a bad habit of being a bit on the noisy side when hanging around those he cares about. Even if he wasn't initially a part of the conversation, he can be quick to jump in. He also has a bad habit of babying those younger than him.

what does your muse usually look like/wear?

His attire consists mainly of a black shirt striped red and white with a pair of light jeans. He'll bundle up in a jacket during colder months. He also definitely has a lot of Tokusatsu tees to represent his love as well as definitely some other super hero graphic tees and for sure shirts with kaiju on them. Any shirt that reminds him of heroes and his passion. His shoes are just a pair of sneakers. He typically wears pants, but he can pull out some shorts to wear during the hotter months to keep himself from overheating in them. Though, when it comes to wearing his RYUSEITAI stage uniforms, they're not often without some elaborate design he'll wear.

is your muse affectionate? how much? how so?

He is affectionate, to a point! His levels of affection depends on the person in question as well as how he's personally feeling. He gets far more affectionate with those he's very close to, especially his juniors in RYUSEITAI. Those who knew him prior to his third year in Yumenosaki he's not exceptionally affectionate with them. He can be a bit more affectionate with Kanata, but he's more genuine emotionally around the other. His affections stem more from his desire to praise those around him. Those he feels are needing and deserving of his praise. Though, when it comes to true affections in true love, I imagine he'll be more awkward and hesitant about it, lacking that confidence in his true self.

what position does your muse sleep in?

Sprawled out on his bed, filling the entire space. Sometimes rolled onto his side hugging a blanket or pillow. He is definitely a heavy and peaceful sleeper who takes up the whole space. It'd take a lot of effort to get him to wake up while he's deep in his sleep to get him to shift or move when he's taking up the space and not on his side.

could you hear your muse in a hallway from another room?

For sure! Chiaki has a very loud, up-beat tone that readily travels especially the more excited that he gets. Also if he's calling someone's name to catch their attention, it's even louder than typical. Being quiet isn't exactly his specialty.

tagged by: @awesomeuchuu !!

[xwesley]

of  course,  she  doesn’t  know  the  full  story  of  everything,  mostly  because  she  refused  to  hear  him  out,  and  again,  he  doesn’t  blame  her.  wesley  knows  he  crossed  a  line.  his  lonely,  insecure  self  seeked  comfort,  affection  and  validation  in  two  people  who  shouldn’t  have  even  be  an  option  for  those  kinds  of  things.  despite  the  fact  that  he  was  a  boy  toy  in  the  entire  situation,  used,  manipulated  and  borderline  blackmailed,  well…  he  blamed  himself  for  everything.  he  didn’t  make  the  first  move,  but  he  didn’t  exactly  fight  his  hardest  to  stop  it  either.  he’s  aware  that  her  parents  aren’t  good  people,  but  what  does  that  make  him  exactly?  wesley  doesn’t  think  he’s  a  good  person  either.  he  doesn’t  think  he  deserves  to  be  genuinely  happy  with  all  the  things  he’s  done  in  his  life.  people  like  him  simply  don’t  get  happy  endings,  they  just  get  used  and  used  until  the  other  gets  tired  of  him  and  discards  him  like  he  doesn’t  matter,  like  he’s  nothing,  and  maybe  that’s  exactly  what  he  is  –  nothing.  not  worth  it,  not  special,  futile  and  only  valid  when  he’s  making  people  happy,  when  he’s  pleasing  people  despite  not  feeling  pleased,  happy,  or  even  somewhat  okay  at  all.  he  doesn’t  have  the  heart  to  tell  her  that  to  this  day,  her  father  still  messages  him  even  though  he  made  it  abundantly  clear  that  whatever  happened  is  over.  he  doesn’t  love  him  –  he  just  loves  the  discovery  wesley  helped  him  realize.  regardless,  he’s  positive  that  luciana  doesn���t  care  enough  to  listen  to  him,  and  chooses  not  to  believe  him.  it’s  her  right,  she  deserves  better  than  the  friend  who  will  sleep  with  her  parents,  because  he’s  vulnerable  and  insecure  and  wants  attention  so  fucking  bad  and  shit,  those  mommy  and  daddy  issus  rooted  within  him  are  so  fucking  real,  but…  that  doesn’t  matter.  not  one  bit.

her  tone  is  aggressive  and  cold,  to  the  point  and  emotionless,  and  even  though  he’s  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  very  much  deserves  it,  his  expression  falters  ever  so  slightly.  the  drugs  in  his  system  are  now  giving  him  a  bad  trip.  he  wants  to  hug  her.  he  wants  to  cry  into  her  shoulder  and  beg  for  her  forgiveness.  wesley  would  get  on  his  knees  if  it  came  down  to  it,  but  those  attempts  would  be  worthless.  still,  he  tries  again,  managing  to  hide  his  torn  expression,  but  luciana  knew  him.  she  knew  he  was  hurting  and  he’s  positive  she  knew  how  sorry  she  was,  but  again,  he  just  doesn’t  deserve  her  forgiveness,  even  though  it’s  something  he  desperately  craves.  those  days  where  they  would  go  to  the  beach  and  listen  to  lana  del  rey  and  watch  the  waves  crash,  their  outdated  ‘best  friend  does  my  make  up  tag’  videos,  the  times  they  would  laugh  so  much,  their  stomachs  would  hurt  and  burn  and  they  had  literal  tears  streaming  down  their  eyes,  and,  the  way  she  would  make  him  feel  better  about  things  he  had  no  control  over.  all  those  things?  gone,  like  the  damn  wind.  he  opens  his  mouth  to  say  something,  once,  twice,  but  nothing  comes  out.  he  nervously  chews  on  his  bottom  lip,  tired  green  eyes  looking  upset,  even  in  the  upbeat  environment  they  were  currently  in.  ❝i’m  trying.❞  he  manages  to  get  out,  feeling  so  damn  pathetic  and  weak,  a  feeling  he  has  never  been  fond  of.  his  soul  aches,  feels  as  if  it’s  been  to  war  and  back  in  at  least  three  different  life  times.  he’s  ridiculous  and  a  terrible  person,  but  he  loves  her.  she  may  hate  him,  but  he  loves  her  still.  he’ll  never  stop.  ❝i  didn’t  mean  to  hurt  you.❞  which,  wasn’t  a  lie.  he  deserves  to  be  decked  in  the  face  all  over  again.  ❝i  just  want  you  to  know  that  i  am  sorry  and  that  i  never  meant  for  this  to  happen.  any  of  this.  i  know  i’m  the  last  person  you  want  to  see  ever,  but  i  need  you  to  know  that.  i  just  want  you  to  forgive  me.  you  don’t  have  to  be  my  friend  again.  you  don’t  have  to  forget  what  i  did  and  you  can  hate  me  all  you  want,  but  please,  just…  forgive  me.❞

                       for  someone  that  knew  wesley  like  the  back  of  her  hand  at  one  point  . . .  she  𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃  to  see  the  fact  that  he  was  hurting  or  that  he  felt  regret  from  what  had  happened  .  she  refused  to  look  at  the  𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑  𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄  and  realize  that  her  parents  had  treated  wesley  like  a  pawn  in  their  twisted  games  just  as  they  had  with  her  for  her  entire  life  .          (      obviously  ,  in  much  different  ways  .     )          but  that  didn't  change  the  fact  that  she  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄  seen  it  .  she  should've  known  better  than  to  believe  this  was  all  on  wesley  . . .  that  he  was  the  𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  one  at  fault  .  when  she  knew  better  when  it  came  to  her  parents  .  knowing  just  how  𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆  they  could  be  ,  𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋  and  𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  .  knowing  that  when  they  wanted  something  ,  they'd  make  certain  it'd  happen  for  them  .  they  weren't  good  people  ,  they  hadn't  been  for  all  her  life  .  she  couldn't  remember  a  time  when  things  were  seemingly  normal  .  a  normal  family  dynamic  . . .  although  ,  to  the  public  ,  they  looked  like  the  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓  family  .  that  was  until  there  was  a  tear  in  that  with  the  rumors  going  around  about  wesley  .  her  parents  working  overtime  to  kill  out  any  of  those          (     very  true     )          rumors  .  the  worst  part  was  ,  she  knew  her  parents  so  well  .  she  knew  how  they  preyed  on  people  that  were  vulnerable  . . .  she  knew  that  they  were  no  better  than  the  people  she  had  been  exposed  to  growing  up  .  to  the  people  that  had  left  her  in  the  many  traumas  she  had  endured  .

           ⏤           there  was  almost  no  reaction  to  wesley  . . .  that  was  until  he  had  spoke  again  .  something  telling  her  this  wasn't  about  them  running  into  each  other  anymore  .  that  this  had  a  lot  more  to  do  with  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  that  had  happened  between  the  two  of  them  .  maybe  if  she  didn't  know  him  as  well  as  she  liked  to  𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃  she  didn't  anymore  . . .  she  wouldn't  connect  those  dots  but  that's  all  she  could  think  about  .  feeling  her  cheeks  go  hot  just  at  the  thought  of  everything  that  had  happened  .  she  was  close  to  turning  around  but  didn't  ,  instead  stepped  a  little  closer  .  wanting  to  talk  softer  ,  trying  to  hold  a  secret  that  she  shouldn't  have  felt  𝐀𝐍𝐘  loyalty  in  holding  .            ❛      stop  ,  i  don't  want  to  hear  it  .      ❜         an  aggression  in  her  voice  as  she  looked  at  the  male  sternly  .           ❛     sorry  doesn't  change  anything  ,  wesley  .  if  you're  looking  for  forgiveness  ,  you're  not  getting  it  .     ❜          even  if  he  wasn't  looking  for  it  ,  she  could  feel  the  anger  𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆  inside  of  her  .  a  side  of  herself  that  she  didn't  necessarily  like  .  another  reason  to  be  mad  at  wesley  . . .  for  pulling  this  side  of  her  out  or  for  it  to  be  threatening  to  come  out  ,  like  it  was  then  .          ❛     have  you  even  changed  ,  wes  ?  or  tried  to  ?  something  tells  me  you're  still  up  to  the  𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄  kind  of  shit  .  throwing  yourself  into  any  fucked  up  situation  instead  of  doing  anything  that'd  actually  be  a  step  in  the  𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  direction  .  so  really  ,  how  can  i  forgive  someone  i  don't  trust  ?  that  i  don't  think  will  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  change  .  you're  too  comfortable  living  in  your  𝐑𝐔𝐓  to  ever  change  .  all  the  apologies  in  the  world  can't  change  that  .     ❜          she  really  should've  shut  her  mouth  but  instead  the  words  poured  out  of  her  .  as  if  she'd  been  holding  onto  them  forever  .

[shima-draws]

SO I just finished binging all of Romantic Killer bc it came up in my recommended. And oh my god I loved it so much;;

There’s definitely mixed reviews about it WHICH IS FAIR bc the premise is about a girl named Anzu who isn’t interested in romantic relationships but she then gets pushed into typical dating sim situations with Really Cute Boys in an effort to like. Force her into a relationship. And obv this kinda comes off as arophobic. But the fact that she so stubbornly refuses to partake and tries so hard to veer away from those situations makes it so fucking funny, especially when she rejects the boys with faces like this

And it turns out it’s really just a show about found family and overcoming trauma and developing healthy friendships with people and UGH. UGHHH it’s so good.

I actually adore Riri lmao they’re SUCH a little shit and I very much enjoy insanely chaotic characters like that. And we start off thinking okay wow this person’s kind of an asshole for forcing a girl to get a boyfriend by taking away her cat, her favorite hobby and her favorite snack, but then we find out OH, they’re just a cog in a corporate machine and they don’t really have much of a choice about it. And we slowly see Riri actually gain true affection for Anzu, and see how much they come to care about her as a person rather than just as a test subject, to the point of them actually breaking the rules of their contract just to make sure she’s safe. AND NOT JUST HER. They make sure the people she’s associated with are safe too, even if it risks them getting in Big Trouble with their boss. AND the fact that they canonically go by they/them pronouns but can ALSO transform into a boy or a girl depending on their preference, and they playfully flirt with Anzu in both forms?? It’s so good. Also thinking about the effort that Anzu goes through to make sure Riri gets to stick around;; like even tho she’d never admit it. She’s come to care for them too in some very strange way lol

And Junta;; the fact that Anzu is actually so concerned about him possibly being brainwashed into the position of childhood friend? Like she doesn’t immediately push him away or shut him down, she actually cares about him as a person and wants him to find happiness and wants to get him out of the situation she thinks he’s in. But then she finds out oh wait he actually IS a childhood friend. And he’s such a good boy. I love love LOVE how they handle the love triangle aspect in this, because obviously yes there’s a bit of jealousy, but not enough for things to get petty between him and Kazuki. They actually treat each other with respect and regard each other as friends and are kinda rooting for the other in their own way. Kind of “may the best man win” sort of thing. There’s no toxicity, there’s no classic “fighting over the female love interest” trope, they actually genuinely like each other after a bit of awkwardness enough to feel comfortable with living together and living with Anzu. They’re SO fucking sweet god dammit //shakes fists

(Honestly tho I really wish we got more episodes focused on Junta. Bc he really seemed like more of a background character and made the whole “love triangle” aspect not feel as prominent. Which is fine I guess?? But I felt so bad for him lmao)

And Kazuki 😭 My beloved. My poor sweet boy who deserves the world and everything in it. Just the build up. The subtle hints of his trauma that pop up every now and then. And when it all comes together you’re like oh!! Ohhh. THAT’S why he acts so aloof and cold all the time. THAT’S why he doesn’t like being the center of female attention. THAT’S why he gets distressed at things that, at first, seem so insignificant. THAT’S why he got attached to Anzu so quickly. And I love the way they handle his trauma, how they don’t make it seem any less important or alarming just because he’s a guy. And how Anzu’s there for him through everything 🤧 How she’s the person to pull him out of the darkness, how she stands up for him time and time again, how she just KNOWS when he’s uncomfortable and steps in to protect him. She ends up caring about him so much despite how they were set up to encounter initially. And he cares about her so much too. And I just 🥺 I care them

Also the fact how everyone came to help Kazuki when they found out what was going on. No judgement, no “you’re making this up”, no “isn’t this your fault to begin with?” They all just step in without even hesitating and support him through his trauma and immediately go “Okay we’ve got a problem so here’s our gameplan.” SEE. IT’S REALLY ABOUT THE FOUND FAMILY,

And one of my favorite things. Riri 🤝 Hijiri using their influence and power to protect both Anzu and Kazuki despite the risks to their reputation and social standing

OH AND I wanted to mention. I love that all of the classic romantic tropes i.e. something happening to your cute neighbor’s apartment so that they’re forced to live with you while it gets sorted out--those are generally really cheesy and make huge plot holes and don’t make ANY sense in the narrative. But that’s the thing about RK, they make it funny, yeah your cute boy neighbor’s apartment flooded bc we need him to come live with you. We did it with magic. Yes your childhood friend is living with you now bc we had a weirdo break into your apartment--with magic. So now he feels like he needs to stay with you and protect you. Yes you got hit by a car with a really rich boy inside and now he’s interested in you. We also did this with magic. Everything that would be regarded as a “coincidence” and is a badly written plot point just to push two characters together is actually explained through the hilarious concept of magic and I LOVE that it’s so fucking funny

Honestly this show is really up to interpretation too which I like a lot? Some people think hey yeah, maybe Anzu will end up with someone. Others say you know what the message here is that friendship is the most important thing and sometimes platonic relationships are better than romantic ones. The ending is pretty ambiguous so it could really go in any direction.

Anyway I have so much more to say but. Just watch Romantic Killer it’s really good thanks bye

(Trigger warnings include sexual harassment/assault, stalking, panic attacks/PTSD, and attempted murder, so please take care while watching <3)

[multifandoms27-blog]

Gyutaro Relationship HC's

• ───────────────── •

Content: Gyutaro x gn!Reader HC's

Warnings: Borderline toxic behavior from Gyutaro at first

Notes: I'm such a Gyutaro simp. Please request him more <3

• ───────────────── •

:( I love him

MY MAN DESERVED BETTER >:(

Okay anyway

Gyutaro obviously has a lot of insecurities, it's one of the first things we know about him

Sometimes he'll probably think your relationship is a joke to you, that you'll leave him for someone better at any moment

As much as he puts Daki/Ume on a pedestal for her beauty, I don't think he's shallow when it comes to his own partners

He's just grateful to have someone love him

There are times he'll believe your love for him, but it's never through specifically asked reassurance

He never asks for that btw, believing he'd only be a burden and that your words of reassurance would be forced since he, y'know, asked for them

Is very jealous and possessive, especially around the three upper moons; Akaza, Douma and Kokushibo

hehehe I love them too,,,

Gyutaro likes leaving bite marks and hickies on you, so that other people can see you belong to someone

Will grin widely, showing off his lovely sharp teef, when he sees a bite mark on your neck high enough to not be covered up

Will probably still scratch off his skin if he sees someone else talking to you, especially if it's another man. Sometimes even that doesn't matter - anyone he deems handome, beautiful, pretty, etc. is making him claw his skin off

Sometimes he'll come up and hug you from behind and glare at the other person until they get unsettled and leave. Then he'll act like he doesn't know what happened

Speaking of hugging, he loves doing that. Or having an arm around you, or holding your hand, literally anything

Gyutaro also really loves cuddling. Any position, he doesn't care. He just needs to feel you beside him, and he can't fall asleep without you being there

Will let you put his hair up in a bun, paint his nails, brush his hair, he doesn't care. He'll let you do it

PLEASE grab his face and kiss him, and tell him he's so handsome, beautiful, pretty, etc.

Jump on him, hug him close, look at him with so much love

Just drown him in attention and affection, he needs it

If you put a shirt or sweatshirt on him, he's not gonna want to take it off and will get really upset if it gets tattered/ripped up. He might even cry a little, thinking you'll be angry with him

But when you kiss him and give him a new one while attempting to save the other one, he's going to be so dumbfounded

In his eyes, he is so unworthy of you, and thinks you should be with someone else. You're like an angel, and since he's already a demon, it just further adds to his insecurity

But when you show him genuine love and affection, he can't help but want to be greedy and selfish, taking all your love for himself instead of shoveling it off to someone else

He tries to keep you away from Ume, in case she makes fun of you or hurts you. But she does eventually get to you, introduces herself, and you two actually...become best friends. Over what? Gyutaro has no idea. He's too stunned to really pay attention.

You and Ume team up against him and it is the bane of his existence. He still loves you though

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[blackbat05]

Complete Faith

Steven Grant x Reader

A/N: I foresee more of these fics to cope🙂 but I hope it brings you comfort too in tough times. Steven being a sweetheart as always💞

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Self-doubt, insecurity. Only my two braincells writing this.

***

You ambled into the room, carefully placing your bag at the side before settling on the swivel chair.

Steven who is on the bed, puts a bookmark in his novel, turning his attention to you.

“Bad day?”

“Nah, just exhausted.” You smiled weakly. It was only a few weeks in but somehow, you found yourself easily overwhelmed.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself mentally. Before Steven can ask you further, you decide to interject, asking about the novel in his hand - a book about old Egyptian times.

Steven shares, and his enthusiasm is what you need to momentarily keep your mind away from whatever is going on.

“Enough about me,” he shifts his position, swinging his legs off the bed. “Anything you want to share with me?”

Steven was so genuine, so caring. How could you deny him the right to know what was buzzing in your head?

He was a great source of support ever since you met him in the museum while you were taking a break from work. He deserves to know.

“It’s crazy. It hasn’t been a month yet and I’m already feeling all sorts of things. I must be mad.” You attempt to laugh it off, only to see the browns of his eyes soften.

“Love, you’re literally talking to me. I think I’ll decide what’s mad.” Steven takes your hands into his.

“What kind of things?”

You don’t know where to start, but Steven doesn’t rush you to tell him.

“Well, for starters I feel like I’m a twenty-four seven klutz. Can’t do anything right.” You suddenly find yourself focusing on twiddling your thumbs. There, you got it out.

Steven takes some time to process the information. He doesn’t want to cut you off immediately. He knows there’s more. Silence can be powerful when used correctly.

“And I know I shouldn’t be complaining when other people have it way much tougher,” you sighed. “But my emotions are all over the place more than usual.” You look at him, a non-verbal signal for Steven that it was ok for him to speak now.

Steven always chooses his words carefully, and this time it’s no different.

“We all have different thresholds for stress love, I’m just glad you told me.” He says quietly, waiting for your reaction.

You had so much affection for this man in front of you, and now it only increased by tenfold.

“How are you so rational?”

“Takes a lot of practice.” Steven holds your hands gently, telling you to relax your body.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, love. You’re only just starting out - if there’s anytime to make mistakes, it’s now.” Hazel eyes oozing sincerity, he made you forget your worries in that moment.

“Thank you, I mean it. I know that I shouldn’t beat myself up but it’s easier said than done.” You sighed, internally blaming your mind’s tendency to go into overdrive.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you at every step of the way.”

A minute of silence passes between the two of you and in typical fashion, your stomach growls, bringing it to both of your attention. Steven chuckles.

“Hungry?”

And that’s how the two of you end up at the marbled counter top with a shared pot of piping hot ramen. Slurping the noodles from your bowl greedily, you were grateful for the spiciness.

“So, its the weekend. Anything we could do?” You knew Steven had meant well but you felt that he had already done so much.

“That’s alright Steven, you must be tired too.”

“Nah, we could do something else instead.” Steven thinks carefully. “How about that newly renovated library? Then we could get some lunch at the food court.”

He truly knew you inside out.

“I’ll love that.”

As the bowl of soup started to decrease in level, you felt oddly warm in a good way. Steven seems to be able to read your mind, as he starts to clear the dishes.

The two of you moved like clockwork, and you find yourself back in bed, more relaxed than you were. Curtains drawn, you find yourself staring at the tiny street light that found its way into your house.

“Hey Steven?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” You rolled over to face him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck.

He can’t help but to smile serenely, patting the back of your head. Steven knows that even though he can’t make all your problems disappear, he was willing to do whatever it took to make your load lighter.

But one thing he was damn sure about - he had complete faith that you could do it. And he was going to be there every step of the way.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N and Spencer decide to keep seeing each other in secret. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, cockwarming, heavy petting, penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral sex (both receiving), degradation, exhibitionism, fingering, cum play maybe? Word Count: 7.5k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is... *nervous laugh* this is pure filth. Like... It’s nothing but sex scenes, y’all. Buckle in. (Also the end is a lil angsty so watch out hehehe)

———

JULY 8th

"You're sure you guys are okay without me for a little while?"

I love my mom. Really, I do.

But if she delays her bath for any longer than one more second, I'm going to burst into flames.

Thankfully it seems that Spencer is patient enough for the both of us. "Positive. You deserve to relax a little. Go. Take your bath, we'll be fine."

Mom looks to me for extra reassurance, and I give it to her with a nod.

"Okay. I'll try not to be too long."

She turns and kisses Spencer, long and lovesick, and I want to barf. What's even worse is that when she pulls away and pats my head before retreating up the stairs, he's smiling. And he's supposed to, I know that. Part of him obviously cares about my mom, and even if he's only fucking me on the side, the fact remains that he goes to sleep next to her. That's the way it has to be.

But it still makes me incredibly envious.

It's a problem.

Mom is upstairs now, but our rule is that unless we know for certain that she's not coming into sight or earshot anytime soon, we remain distant.

Still, I make my distaste for their affections known. "You guys are gross..."

Spencer laughs, his hand sneaking over the couch cushion and grazing the end of my skirt. "Jealous, are we?"

Of course, I have to make it difficult for him. "You're a genius, you tell me..."

"Hey now... You're lucky I'm giving you any attention at all... Besides, you know the rules."

I glance over at him, practically crumbling apart at the seams under his intense gaze. It's one I've gotten used to as of late, one that rivals every smile I've ever seen him give my mother.

"Doesn't make it any easier," I mumble, glancing down at where his fingers are still toying with my skirt.

"I know..." He reaches out and touches my hand, and my skin tingles. "Come here."

Even though I can hear that the bath water has only just started running from below, I comply all the same. I scramble off the couch and return on his lap, straddling him and nesting my fingers through his hair while I lean in to kiss him.

He welcomes me with open arms and an open mouth. The moment our tongues brush, I sigh and melt into him, needing desperately to be as close as possible. Our kisses then are languid and wet, and soft. We don't want to get carried away in case we need to be alert and jump apart, so it's best to keep our bodies controlled.

But as I'm learning, around Spencer, controlling myself is painstakingly difficult.

A whine escapes me when his right hand slips under my skirt and rests along the inside of my thigh, and I shift, silently begging him to give me more.

"So impatient..." he mumbles over my mouth.

I pull away and slide my hands down over his neck and shoulders, my hips rolling forward as I pout. "I haven't had you all week. I'm lonely..."

It's true.

Once all my STD tests came back clean and I got my birth control figured out and solid, the first thing he did was tell my mom he wasn't feeling well and texted me the address to his apartment. And after I told her I was meeting up with a friend, I drove over there and got my brains completely fucked out. We spent all day under the sheets, on the couch, over the kitchen counter, and then on the floor, until I had to go home and pretend like it never happened.

Since then we'd only slept together once, and that was just over a week ago, quickly while Mom ran to the store for an onion of all things. And then Spencer had been busy with consulting on new cases that his old job wanted a little help with, and once he had free time, Mom insisted they go on a date weekend.

I pout harder, stomach churning at the memory of the look he gave me before they left—a silent, sweet goodbye that had left me empty and wanting.

But he's just amused.

A smirk ghosts over his lips, red and a little puffy from the pressure of my own against them. "So I definitely can't trust you to be quiet enough to fuck you properly..."

That warrants another whine and another roll of my hips, and I can feel his hand gripping my thigh a little tighter.

"Please... Spencer, I need you..."

His name rolling off my tongue must be what makes him give into me, because I barely have time to react before he's kissing me again, using both of his hands to lift the back of my skirt up and knead my ass.

"Wait... Are you wearing..."

I grin over his lips, wiggling my ass into his touch and utterly turned on by the fact that he knows what underwear I'm wearing just by touch.

"Mhmm," I answer, nipping his bottom lip. "Your favorite..."

The sound that rumbles in his chest as he crashes his body against mine has to be the sexiest thing I've ever heard. He's obviously trying not to be loud, but it's hard, and that makes the sound strained. He really wants this, wants to keep me, and to do that he has to refrain from going absolutely primal right now. He has to do anything to keep this quiet.

So he pushes me off of him, and I pout, thinking he's given up until we can get a true moment alone.

But I know that isn't the case when he spins his finger and then starts undoing his pants.

"Turn around, sweetheart," he huffs, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough that his erection emerges free. "You're gonna sit here, keep quiet, and keep my cock nice and warm, understood?"

Don't have to tell me twice... I'll fucking take what I can get.

So I spin, back up, and move all my clothing to the side, my skirt lifting as I nestle into Spencer's lap and hold my panties to the side. He laughs at my eagerness, though he isn't laughing much longer once I sink down onto him and get in real close. His hands come out to grab my chest and pull me flush against his own.

The way he stretches and fills me has my eyes rolling back, a long, happy sigh falling from my lips. I wish I could say I'm being dramatic about it, but I'm really not.

I'm genuinely relieved and satisfied with the burn.

"There's my girl," Spencer muses through a sigh of his own, his breath fanning gently over my neck right before he gives it an open-mouthed kiss.

His hands slip under the baggy sweater I'm wearing and run along the planes of my stomach, then up and up, taking the fabric with him until it rests above my bare chest. Being exposed like this, right in the middle of the living room while my mom is just upstairs, excites me more than I think it should.

While Spencer kisses and licks at my neck, his hands now gently kneading my breasts, I squirm.

He doesn't like that very much.

"Ah-ah," he warns, squeezing me tight and pulling me into him more. "Relax..."

He hooks his legs around mine then, spreading them apart and somehow filling me deeper. I whine, leaning my head back onto his shoulder and trying not to roll my hips.

Instead, I settle for clenching myself around him, and that seems to be the right move.

"Atta girl... Lay back and relax... Just feel me filling you up nice and slow..."

"Mmmm," I respond in kind as his hands loosen and glide down my body.

He's light with his touch, though the kisses on my neck feel hungry, and his cock feels heavy and thick inside me. It's a beautiful contrast, really, making me feel so full and yet so light, like I'm a raincloud.

Soon his fingers dip under my skirt and cover my hand, which is working at keeping my panties off to the side. He traces the curves of my fingers with his own, mumbling praises and scattering kisses along the side of my neck. And I'm distracted enough that I almost don't feel his other hand make gentle contact with my clit until I gasp from the sharp sensation.

I can feel his smile against my skin as he starts rubbing in slow, precise circles.

"That feel good, princess?"

"Uh huh," I breathe out, trying to keep still. My other hand digs into my knee in hopes that I can stay grounded and focused on keeping still. But despite that, I'm feeling rather calm. Satisfied...

Right where he wants me.

"Mmm..." He hums happily into my skin, continuing to kiss my neck while working my clit.

And I have no idea how long we lay there. It feels like it could be hours.

The TV is on, but we're not paying any attention to it. In the back of my mind I know that Mom could be done with her bath at any minute, but it's been too long without Spencer inside me... And even though he's not actually fucking me, just having him this close and feeling him touch me, fill me, breathe me in...

God, I never want it to stop.

I'm almost on the verge of coming, but he removes his hand from me and slides them up my stomach again.

I whine at the loss of orgasm, but he pays it no mind. "Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna start moving..."

I start to get excited, wiggling in his lap a little.

With a dark laugh, he brings his hands to my breasts, kneading them gently and nipping my earlobe. Getting my attention...

"But you're not gonna stop until I fill that slutty little cunt with my cum, got it? I don't care if you come more than once. I don't care if you come at all... I don't care if your mom comes down here and sees..."

I swear I almost come on the spot from his words alone.

And then his voice is somehow even darker, seeping through my skin and settling into the very deepest parts of me.

"You will not stop until you make me come, am I clear?"

I wouldn't deny him if I could. I'm so damn whipped by this man, so eager to please and be near him that he could ask me to do any fucking thing on the planet and I would.

My rational brain might have second-guessed that feeling if it hadn't been horny as fuck...

And so I get to it, maneuvering my hips and working Spencer's cock like my life depends on it. And honestly, it kind of does, because if my mother comes down and catches us I'm dead.

Despite the urgency, though, I relish every second of it. I try to remember every sensation vividly because I don't know when I'll get to feel it again. So every time I sit back down on his dick, I clench it on the way up, because I know that drives him wild and it also means I get to feel him grab me tighter.

I can't see him, not even really when I turn my head, but I can picture how he's probably biting his lip, trying not to be loud. His eyes are probably shooting daggers at the ceiling, praying to the heavens above that my mom won't come down.

But it looks like the heavens above have decided to damn us to hell.

That unmistakable sound of the drain in the tub rumbles through the ceiling and down the inside of the walls as the water travels through the pipes, and my heartbeat races faster than it ever has.

Spencer tugs my hair then, pulling my head to meet his shoulder once more. "You better hurry, little girl..."

That's when I finally come. My cunt throbs and shakes around him as I bounce as quietly as I can. His grip in my hair is tighter, urging me to keep going, and the sharp sensation seems to extend my orgasm a little.

I whimper and whine as I feel it, and that seems to be what does him in.

"Fuck, Y/N, that's it... That's my girl..."

Four more bounces from me is all it takes, and then he's holding my hips in place. He grunts as quietly as possible into my shoulder and fucks into me slowly, filling me to the brim with his cum and breathing harshly into my skin.

I can hear Mom walking around upstairs, most likely getting dressed, which means she'll be down any minute...

"Time to get up, princess," Spencer whispers a moment later, letting go of my hips.

I turn my head into his neck, whining. "I don'wanna..."

"I know, I know... But you have to."

I know he's right. But I can't just get up and lose him so quickly. I want to hold on for as long as possible.

So I tilt my head up and bring his lips to mine. Thankfully he doesn't reject me, instead returning my affections and sighing into my mouth. He's still sheathed inside me, and I can feel his cum very slowly starting to drip down.

I have to get up now...

My mouth reluctantly parts from his and pouts. I expect him to return it with a sad smile, but his lips are rather mischievous.

He smirks, lifting me off of him and quickly pulling my panties back in place. His cum instantly soaks into the thin, lavender fabric, and it only reminds me of his absence.

But then Spencer spins me around on the heels of my feet and presses his hand firmly to my clothed, sopping wet cunt under my skirt, rubbing it in and making me whimper out at the overstimulation.

"I missed you," he whispers sincerely. Sweetly...

I can't help but smile as I lean down to kiss him one more time.

"I missed you, too."

JULY 23rd

I've been looking forward to this weekend since Mom brought it up after her bath—A call from work. A weekend business trip across the country.

She would be gone for almost a whole week.

Spencer's already started on his coursework for the next school year so he'll be busy most days, but at night? That's when he's all mine.

The only hard part about this, really, is containing my excitement. Just yesterday Spencer got me alone and warned me that I better keep my cool and be patient. Though, the way he said it was hardly a bad thing considering it gave me an excuse to feel his hands on me, even in the laundry room where, more or less, this had all started.

Even now I can still feel their warmth and their heft as they grope and paw at my breasts while he attacks my neck with sloppy kisses.

But right now he's not here, and as much as I can't wait to spend the week with him, my mom is also going to be gone for that long.

Just because I'm fucking her boyfriend on a regular basis doesn't mean I don't still love her.

Though, the thought of it all makes me a little uneasy—I don't know what the future holds. I know Spencer obviously cares about my mom, but if it really gets to a point where they've been together long enough, would he ever marry her?

And then what?

It's one thing for him to be my mom's boyfriend, who doesn't live here and only stays when he can... But it's a whole other one to be my stepfather. And what if my mom wants to have another kid?

No.

I'm not even going to think about it... If it ever gets to that point, then we'll deal with it, but right now I've only known Spencer for nearly 2 months, and it's way too soon to be thinking about any of that right now.

"You gonna be alright without me for a week?"

I curl into Mom's side, laughing and thankful for her distraction. "I spend almost a whole year away at college without you, I think I can survive five days."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I wish you could just stay here with me forever."

"Ha, no you don't. I'm a menace."

"Only when you eat all my food and then complain that you're starving..."

My eyes roll affectionately. "Mom. That was one time, and I was fifteen and dramatic."

She kisses the top of my head and then rests her chin on it. "Then my point stands... You were only a menace when you were fifteen. Now you're an angel."

I can tell she's sincere, and when I tell her Thank you, it feels incredibly deceitful—Especially when she starts humming my favorite song and brushing through my hair with her fingers, just like she used to do to get me to sleep as a kid. The foggy feeling it sends through my bloodstream reminds me that I'm definitely not the same person I was back then.

Although, it is true that some things never change, and within minutes I'm soundly asleep in my mother's arms.

———

When Spencer and I are sending her off at the airport the next morning, my heart thrums wildly in my chest.

"You have Spencer's number in case of an emergency?" she asks me in a haste.

"Yes, Mom. For the thousandth time, I have his number, and I have Grandma's number, and I have just about every other number you've ever given me for emergency contacts."

She gives me The Look.

"Yes, I have it. And I'll be okay. I love you."

"Oh, I love you, too," she says, pulling me in for one last breath-reducing hug, though, that's not truly what knocks the breath from my lungs.

She goes to Spencer next, reaching up to give him a goodbye kiss. I'm expecting it. I'm okay with it.

But this is unlike any other kiss I've seen them share, and it admittedly makes me jealous.

Spencer almost has her off the ground, pressing her close to him and kissing her deeply. Her hands weave through his hair as he tilts his head, and this time I can see his tongue slip into her mouth.

"O—kaaay, my eyes are burning... Thank you for that..."

I know I can get away with that because it's a completely normal reaction to seeing your mother make out with anyone, so I don't feel bad about it one bit. And I especially don't feel bad about the warning look he gives me over my mom's shoulder when she comes to give me another hug.

But then she's gone, and minutes later we're leaving the airport parking lot, and I can't seem to shake my jealousy. Even when his hand rests politely on my knee.

The whole way home I only barely acknowledge his presence, giving him half-hearted smiles and remaining mostly still when he glides his hand higher up my leg. By the time his fingers slip under the hem of my skirt, I think he knows something is up, because it stops there.

He waits until we get in the house to bring it up.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

I plop myself down on the couch with an overexaggerated sigh. "Kinda..."

I know Spencer used to be a profiler, and really, it's not that hard to figure out what's wrong with me. But it's still a little scary how easily he just knows.

"You know I had to," he says, walking over and standing in front of me. "Keeping up appearances and whatnot."

He's right. And it's a consequence of what we've decided to do, so really I'm in no place to complain.

Still, I reach out and pull him in by the belt loops, leaning my face in rather close to his crotch. "You know... Actually, I think you just like making me jealous..."

The smile that dances over his lips is amused and downright sinful. "Oh?"

"Mhmm," I drawl, sliding my hands to the front of his pants and rubbing him through the fabric.

He laughs. "Yeah, you are pretty cute when you're all huffy."

With big eyes and a fluttering in my stomach at the way he looks down at me, I feel that pressing of jealousy start to lift off my chest. I know that within an hour he'll have me pinned under his body somehow, and the thought allows my response to come out clearly and without question.

"So how are you gonna make it up to me?"

———

We're already out of our clothes by the time we make it upstairs. And when we finally get into my bedroom, I'm about to shut the door and then Spencer stops me.

"No one's home, sweetheart... Leave it open."

He takes two steps and has me in his arms, his hands sliding down my back and resting over my ass. And when he gives it a squeeze, he grins down at me. "You're gonna be loud for me, understand?"

"Hey, that's on you," I tease, wiggling against him. "You want me loud? Make me loud."

His grip on my ass gets tighter as he pulls me closer, and I yelp out. "Don't challenge me, little girl... You'll regret it."

I laugh then, calling back to his earlier statement. "Aw... You're pretty cute when you're all huffy..."

"Alright, fine."

The next thing I know, I'm on my knees, and his hands are rooting in my hair. The rough carpet underneath me already burns, but I know in the end it's gonna be so worth it.

Spencer brings me close to his exposed crotch and tilts my head up to look at him. "I'm gonna fuck that attitude right out of your pretty little mouth, got it? And you're not gonna do a damn thing but take it like a good girl."

I would have asked him if that was a threat or a promise if he hadn't immediately shoved his dick in my mouth. It has me wet in an instant, the way he just pulls me onto him and starts fucking my face with an urgency that seems to contradict all the time we have. He needs me now, with no time for teasing or pleasantries, and I fucking love it.

Which is why I do as I'm told, enjoying every second as he holds my head still and snaps his hips forward, his velvety smooth cock gliding over my tongue and down my throat with ease. It doesn't take long for my eyes to water, my vision going blurry and my body growing hot. My face is angled straight ahead, but I still find a way to look up at him, and from this low angle?

It's the best thing I've ever seen.

No matter how many times I've been on my knees like this, staring up at Spencer as he loses himself at my hands (or rather my mouth, if you want to get technical), I swear I could never tire of it.

His eyes are glaring down at me as he concentrates, his arms are out in front of me as they hold my head in place, and his pubic bone and sculpted hips are right there, moving ferociously in front of my eyes. He's so deep in my throat for a few seconds, holding me down while I gag around him, that my nose is buried in the soft trail of hair that gathers on his skin, and I want to stay there forever.

But my gag reflex isn't much durable for more than fifteen seconds, much less forever, so I have to pull back.

Spencer pulls me off of him completely, a trail of spit following my lips and then detaching until it lands along my chin. I blink away some of the tears that had gathered in my eyes and pout up at him.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're supposed to be making it up to me..." My voice is scratchy and a little hoarse now, but I know it'll probably be worse if Spencer really thinks he can make me as loud as he says (which I truly don't doubt for a second).

He tugs me up by the hair, and I whine as I get to my feet, my knees aching already. And then his mouth is on my cheek, gently kissing away a tear. "Aw, I thought you liked having my dick in your mouth..."

"I do..."I giggled a little, nestling into his body and feeling his erection, now slick with my saliva, press up against the inside of my thigh. "But I like it better in other places..."

"Mmm, you're right... I do, too..."

I certainly hadn't been expecting that answer.

But it doesn't surprise me when he walks us over to the foot of my bed and pushes me onto it. "Hands and knees, princess."

My knees still burn from the carpet, and I'm sure this squeaky-ass mattress won't alleviate the pain at all, but if there's one thing I've learned since having sex with Spencer it's that pain is all part of the pleasure.

So I don't question it. My limbs submit to his simple command, and once I turn away from him and perch myself on my hands and knees, I can feel him climbing on the bed and crawling up the backside of my body. His hands roam my ass and my waist, and within seconds he has his cock nestled against me.

He moves nice and slow at first, dragging the length of him through my slick cunt and ghosting the skin of my backside with his hands.

"Remember... Nice and loud, okay? Wanna hear how good I make you feel."

Like I could ever deny him. Even though I like to tease him and push his buttons, I couldn't think of a single thing in the moment that I'd ever deny him.

So he finally pushes into me, stretching me out well and good, and a low groan slowly rolls off my tongue like a waterfall. And I'm not doing it for his sake; It's like he draws it out of me like a syringe, and I'm utterly powerless against it... Against him.

Like I need a metaphor to explain how I'm well and truly his bitch...

"There she is..." Spencer breathes, reaching the very deepest part of me and staying there. "There's my obedient little girl... Tell me what you want."

I turn my head to get as good of a look at him as I can, and give him the pout to end all pouts. "I want you to fuck me, hard... Please?"

His answer is a gentle push forward, his body leaning over mine to take my hands and pin them behind my back, which pulls me up towards him so that my back is nearly flush with his chest. His hands are so big that one of them is able to hold both of my wrists while the other gathers my hair and tugs.

I feel like I'm being held by a bungee cord, especially when Spencer starts snapping his hips and pounding into me roughly. My knees are pushing into the springs of the mattress and lifting again with each thrust, and I can't help the stream of whimpers and shouts that escape me at the whole experience.

He lets go of my hair in favor of reaching around and palming my left tit, his pace never faltering for a second. Everything he's doing is precise and swift and so fucking good that my eyes can hardly stay open.

"I'm hearing you, pretty girl, but I don't think you're quite loud enough..." he grumbles in my ear, letting go of me and gently pushing me back down on the bed. He slips out of me and I whine at the loss, but I don't have to worry about it much longer when I feel him lay down over top of me and slam into me hard.

I yelp out, my hands reaching out and clutching the comforter for dear life. Spencer's hands, meanwhile, push up off the mattress on either side of my hips to lift himself up, and then he's grabbing my waist and pushing me into it while he fucks me.

When I instinctively shove my face down and try to muffle myself, though, one of his hands leaves my waist and comes up to tug my hair, pulling my head up. His hips pause, pressed deep into my backside, and I can feel how he's struggling to keep still.

"Uh-uh... No one's home, princess... Let it all out..."

He pulls back and plows into me again, and this time his pace is frustratingly slow. With each slam forward my voice grows louder, begging him for more with incoherence until I start to feel myself grow tense with pleasure.

"You're almost there, baby, I can feel it," Spencer breathes. His voice is far away, and I wish he was closer, his breath on my neck and his lips not far behind. But for now I gladly settle for his hands, tight and bruising on my hips, and the force of his pelvis as it collides brutally and wonderfully with my ass.

What finally brings me sweet release is the sound of him grunting out one word. A command. And once again it's like I'm powerless under his spell.

"Come."

I do, and he fucks me thoroughly through each wave. Even once I've finished, he chases his own orgasm for minutes.

By the sounds he's making and the way his hips falter here and there, I can tell he's close, but he wants to make it last. I want to tell him that we have all weekend, to maybe tease him a bit, but I'm so fucked out and incoherent that I couldn't have said a single word if I tried.

So I lay there and take it with a weary smile on my face, ever the whiny, whimpering mess that I am, and patiently wait for the moment he decides to let go.

And when he does, it's the most glorious feeling in the world. I'm tired, yes, but never tired enough to lift myself and wiggle my ass back into him, clenching myself around him and relishing in the way he grunts out my name. He empties himself into me, and I hum, positively satisfied and warm.

Before I know it, I'm sinking down within the comfort of my blankets, and I rest my head in my arms, the pillow still a little too far out of reach. And though I'm content, I still whine out sadly when Spencer retreats and leaves me feeling empty.

I'm about to tell him to get over here and cuddle me when I feel his weight redistribute, and it isn't long before he has his head between my legs, his tongue acting as a net for the cum that drips out of me. He barely touches me, only the tiniest of flicks with the tip of his tongue darting over my skin. I can't tell if I'm thankful because of the relief or if I want the burn to go on forever.

In the end, I don't really have a choice.

He pushes his tongue up, sweeping over my dripping cunt and cleaning me up. Suddenly his mouth is everywhere, making the most delicious sounds and bringing me closer to another orgasm, and all I can do is let it happen. My weary smile is joined by a fluttering pair of eyelids and a string of whimpers that are so small they don't dare drown out the words Spencer is grumbling between my legs.

Some of which, I can hear, sound out, "Another one..."

His finger adds to the mix, coming up and rubbing my clit in tight circles as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made, and within seconds I'm a writhing mess at his undoing.

I'm not sure how long it lasts, only that one second I'm tensing with another orgasm and the next I'm having my limbs moved.

Spencer is beside me in an instant, his face coming into view as I feel my breathing slow to a steadier pace. The longer I wait, the more focused I am on his features, soft and even a little concerned as he strokes some of the hair from my face.

"How are you feeling?"

The smile that beams across my face is just about the most natural thing I'd ever felt. And it seems to bring out those bright glints of adoration in his eyes that only ever serve to make my heart flutter, which makes what I tell him even more true.

"I'm happy."

JULY 27th

Waking up to Spencer next to me, while a daily occurrence these past few days, is still possibly the most surprising and comforting feeling in the world.

Our bodies never part. From the moment we lay down to sleep until the moment we wake up and decide it's time to start doing necessary daily things, not one inch of skin is untouched. Even when showering.

I think back to yesterday morning, where he dragged me out of bed because he had to pee and didn't want to leave me. I was slumped over the backside of his body while he went and then in his arms again while he ran us a shower to wake up.

It brings the widest smile to my face, however sleepy it may also be.

"What are you smiling for?"

I squint one eye open and see that Spencer is staring at me. I hadn't expected him to be awake.

"Just thinking about yesterday..."

He tightens his grip on my waist and pulls me even closer, my face instantly drawn to the crook of his neck. "Mmm," he hums as I nestle in and press a sleepy kiss to the bare skin at the column of his throat. "Which part?"

"Our shower."

I feel his thumb then, rubbing back and forth over my hip as clearly as I can feel him smile against the top of my head. "That was fun, wasn't it..."

"Mhmm," I agree. My lightly tongue traces over his collarbone before I kiss it again. "Our shower is much better equipped for sex than yours."

"So... What you're saying is that shower sex is out of the question this morning?" he confirms with a laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm saying..."

"Well then, princess, what uhh... What alternatives do you think we should try out?"

I start to laugh when he pulls my leg up over his waist and hoists me over on top of him. My face remains buried into his neck, though I trail my lips up and up until I reach his jaw.

"Hmm... What if I just ride you and see where it takes us?"

When my lips finally reach his cheek, Spencer shifts and captures them in a long, butterfly-inducing kiss before pulling away with a smile and brushing the hair from my face. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

It helps that I can already feel him hardening beneath me, and from the moment I felt his hands on me, I'd been aroused.

Though, as soon as I line him up and get ready to start our morning the right way, his phone rings on the bedside table. I'm tempted to keep going, but he half pushes me off of him when he reaches and reads the name.

"It's your mom."

That instantly kills my mood.

With a dramatic sigh and a pout, I hop off of him and curl up under the covers, letting him answer.

"Good morning," he chirps rather happily, and I try not to imagine my moms smile on the other end of the line. Thankfully I can't hear her, but I can still see Spencer smiling as he greets her and goes through all the pleasantries that come with a long distance relationship; I miss yous and how are yous...

I wonder if he really does miss her. He must, at least a little, right?

I'm staring straight ahead now, picking at my nails while I wait for them to finish talking, but something feels off.

I can feel Spencer's eyes on me.

But then he asks, "What are you wearing?" through the phone with a voice so playful and seductive, and I snap my head around, glaring at him.

"Really?" I mouth.

The smirk on his face makes me want to chuck his phone across the room.

"Mmm," he hums, looking me dead in the eye. And the next time he speaks, I swear he's talking directly to me. "Why don't you take it off... I want to talk you through some things..."

I know my mom is hearing the roughness in his voice through the phone, but right now I can see his eyes, hungry as they rake over my body once I slowly peel the blanket away and reveal myself to him, and I know that his main goal isn't to get my mom off.

It's to finish what we started before she'd interrupted.

"Touch yourself for me, baby? Nice and slow. Just relax..."

He softly crawls over to me, keeping the phone to his ear with one hand while the other takes my knees and spreads them apart.

I start to touch myself as instructed, but he swats my hand away and winks, nestling between my legs. I lean up on my elbows and tilt my head, wondering where he's going with this, when he leans his other cheek into my thigh.

"You know what I'd do to you right now If I was there?" A small pause. And then, "I'd use my fingers to slowly stretch you open... Feel you contract around me..."

His fingers do exactly like he says, and I have to stop myself from making any sound. The evil grin growing on his face as he does it all makes it even harder.

"I'd finger-fuck you nice and slow," he continues in a voice just above a whisper. "Until you're begging me for more."

When his eyes meet mine, once more I want to lean forward, snatch his phone, and smash it on the floor. I want him to utterly devour me, without any interruptions or avoidances at getting caught.

But he's such a fucking tease.

Mom must be talking on the other end, because Spencer is silent, slowly fucking me with his fingers and watching them intently as they disappear inside me. Entranced... The thought of her speaking to him and holding his attention makes me jealous— Sure, he's fucking me right now, but really, she's the one calling the shots.

I lean my head back in frustration, letting out the tiniest of whines and grinding my hips up into his hand, hoping and pleading for more.

A low laugh leaves him. "Please, what?"

It's not lost on me that my mom must have asked for more from him at the same time I did... It cements just how absolutely fucked this whole situation is, and yet I can't help but clench around his fingers in earnest, silently pleading with him to go on.

He removes his fingers from me and I sigh out, trying not to disrupt their call.

"And... How would you like me to fuck you?" he asks, looking at me with an evil grin and knowing damn well I can't actually answer.

After he gets her answer, he climbs up on his knees and spreads my legs further, throwing one of them up on his shoulder while he leaves the other on the bed. Since he only has one hand to work with, he gestures to it and I help him out, lifting my other leg up to my chest and holding it with one arm to let him get inside at a good angle.

"Yeah, and how do you want it, baby?" He lines himself up with me and very slowly sinks the head of his cock in, holding it and running his hand along my stomach. "I'm thinking... I'd like to fuck you so slow you're practically writhing beneath me..."

I stick my tongue out at him, and then without warning he slams into me. I bring a hand to my mouth and bite down on my finger, trying not to make a sound.

"You're gonna be patient... And you're gonna let me take my time... Until you're nice and desperate... Whining out for me like a good little whore..."

Each sentence is punctuated with another thrust, hard and deep, followed by a short pause, and it's all I can do not to cry out his name and beg him to go faster.

Mom must be talking on the line again, because Spencer doesn't say a word as he fucks me. His pace doesn't pick up or slow, and his own self control starts to recede—I can see it in his features. I can also feel it in the way his free hand grips my leg. He wants to go faster, he wants to lose control, and this is killing him just as much as it's killing me.

But then he pants into the phone, his voice breaking a little as he pauses and rolls his hips into me, slow and burning. I whine into my hand as quietly as possible, and he asks the question that will seal my fate.

"Where do you want it?"

I wait, clenching around him and praying for the result I want.

And then he laughs. "Yeah? You like when I paint you with my cum, huh?"

I shake my head, silently begging him to resist and stay inside me, but he only shrugs as if to say, Sorry about your luck, and then pulls out, leaving me whiny and desperate.

Just like he said.

And then, he comes all over me, stroking himself fast and hard. Even though I've still yet to feel any sort of relief, seeing him in front of me like this, feeling his warmth dance across my skin in warm spurts, and hearing him groan out as he watches my body gladly accept it all...

It's quite honestly the most satisfying thing I've ever seen.

I can't say I'm not happy, though, when he slumps down and pants, sighing out a few goodbyes to my mom and then tossing his phone on the floor when she hangs up.

He smiles at me then, and I pout.

"You're evil..."

"Mmm, you love it," he drawls, leaning down and starting to dart his tongue over the mess he made on my stomach. Meanwhile his finger finds its way inside me again, and I feel myself start to turn into a writhing mess once more.

And he's right.

I do love it.

JULY 29th

Approaching the front door with Mom in step behind me, knowing that Spencer awaits for her on the other side isn't what makes my heart jump out of my chest.

It's the look on both of their faces when they see each other.

Though I push Mom forward to go see him, it nearly breaks me seeing her run into his arms. He picks her up and spins her around, reminiscent of their little moment at the airport, and the pure happiness on her face specifically makes my stomach twist.

This time it isn't jealousy.

It's guilt.

She's... incredibly happy. I don't think I've ever seen her this happy before. She's positively beaming as she hugs him tight and buries her face into his chest.

And when he looks past her head and looks over at me, I feel it.

The heartache.

Spencer's eyes burn holes into my own, and fill them with a sympathy that makes me feel more wounded than comforted.

I wonder then if he can see it on my face; The way I'm trying not to break down and cry... The way I'm only holding myself together by the weak smile I'm wearing, both to assure him that I'm fine and also to feign happiness for my mother, rather than the aching envy and sadness that festers within every crevice of my soul.

I offer to grab more of Mom's things from the car and dart right back out the door to avoid them for a little while. Maybe to also get some fresh air, even though I'd just been outside less than a minute ago.

After flinging open the trunk of the car, I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my chest start to tighten at the realization that I might be starting to fall in love with him.

A man who isn't mine, and who could never be.

———

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[creativia10]

The Trouble with True Potions

Summary: (Deceit) Devin wishes it wasn't still so hard for him to be truthful. His boyfriend Remus is so open. Devin decides to go for some drinks as he struggles with this. Little did he know that said drink would loosen his lips more than expected.

Pairing: Deceit/Remus, platonic Patton and Deceit

Wordcount: 1918

Warnings: Drinking, could be seen as a drugging but is more Devin not paying attention to what he is drinking

Notes: Tuliptober Prompt 10- True

Let me know what you think. @radiocrushstarcrash

Based on @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors Metaphysical Determinism series, but could be enjoyed on its own.

Devin would like to maintain some level of poise and control. However, there was a good amount of things in his life right now that were new. Some were good, like his relationship with Remus. Some were confusing and hard to get to used, to like the sudden release from his backward talking curse. That was a good thing of course. Yet, Devin was still frustrated. For years this curse forced him to say the opposite of what he meant. This, unfortunately, had taken its toll on his communication skills even now.

The curse had been controlling how he spoke for so long. So he found it difficult to think through how to say what he actually wanted to. One would think he wouldn’t care about that after so long of talking a certain way. Surely the people he interacted with were used to it by now, right? The thing was, he wanted to be more genuine in his relationships. To say positive things to them or whatever because he like the people in his life.

How horribly sappy, right? He knew Remus didn’t mind, having fallen for him when the curse was still effective. That didn’t make communication any easier though. Having to be upfront about what he meant? It sounded awful, or at least uncomfortable. Devin thought Remus deserved to hear truths about how much Devin cared about him. Even if the thought still made Devin feel all squirmy. Patton would talk about how clear communication was important to a relationship, and that he and Roman had been doing better since they made clear efforts to do so.

 Gross. Yet still, Devin knew Patton had a point. It’s not like his friends would be impatient with him or anything. Yet Devin still felt bad though. He was, evidently, hard on himself even with knowing his own circumstances. When Remus flirted or complimented Devin, he responded back with snark or disinterest. It made Devin internally cringe every time. Remus always laughed it off or gave him affection anyways.

Gosh, he didn’t deserve the chaotic tattoo artist. Devin sighed and watched Remus leave the flower shop. His boyfriend had to go back to work after the lunch break. It was a slow day for Devin. Not the best time of year for flowers. He was still doing fine with his shop. Days like this happened. Didn’t mean Devin wanted to mull over his own self-deprecating thoughts like this though.

Did he need to mentally take note every time a sarcastic quip still came out of his mouth automatically? Probably not. Devin tapped his fingers on a counter in thought. Opening up was hard. Why was that? Nobody liked to be vulnerable. Even though Devin trusted his loved ones, it can feel weird to reveal something for the first time. Even with a simple, “I appreciate you in my life”.

He wasn’t some sap. It wasn’t fun getting looked at weirdly or overhearing mean things most of his life from his curse after all.

Devin went into the rhythm of typical flower shop upkeeping. Such thoughts still trailed him, unfortunately. When it was time to close down for the day, Devin considered meeting up with Patton to talk about this again. How would he go about that though?

‘Hey Patton, I’m pathetic enough that I’m scared to say nice things to people whom I know I can trust.’ Well, his friend would probably give him a hard time about self-deprecation.

Devin glanced through his glass storefront. He could use a drink.

He slipped away and found a nearby bar that he hadn’t heard his gaggle of store friends talk about. He needed a break.

Devin wasn’t usually a big drinker. Somehow he felt led to that night though. Maybe he could figure out something from doing so. Or just get a break from his thoughts at least.

He sat down at the bar with a sigh.

“What is something not disgusting that will make me feel good and loosen up.”

Wow. Great start.

The bartender raised an eyebrow.

“What’s your drink tolerance?”

“Is that a normal drink order question?”

The bartender shrugged. “Something about your phrasing made me wonder.”

“I am not a practiced drinker if that’s what you mean.”

The bartender nodded. “I think I know what you might need.”

They pulled some fancy-looking bottles off the shelf and made a mixed drink. Devin really should have paid attention to some of the signs around the bar. They mentioned the use of unusual drink ingredients. There was also a request to specify if you don’t want magical experimentation added to your drink.

They brought over the glass, which bubbled a bit around the rim of the glass. A blue, glittering, glowing steam lifted from the top of the drink. Devin raised an eyebrow at it.

“Quite extravagant looking.”

The bartender shrugged. “It tends to go over well.”

Devin probably should have asked what was in it. But in that moment, he didn’t care.

Devin took a decent sip, not even waiting for the straw. His eyelids immediately fluttered. He felt heavy with something. Not necessarily bad though.

“Whoa…that is better than I expected it to be.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Did you want water or food with that at all?”

Devin shrugged. “I didn’t really think much past forgetting my angsting. How strong is this?”

“Um, I’d say it’s strong enough for you to feel it quickly. There are magic properties in it too though.”

“Ah,” Devin said. He took another sip of the same size.

“So is pouring out to poor unsuspecting bartender an actual thing here or just a cliché?”

“Uh, well it does happen. Depends on how slow of a night it is. You know, if I have to keep up with patrons I can’t exactly listen to woes.”

Devin nodded.

“I see. I had a slow day at my shop today. I didn’t have patrons I could talk to. Flower buyers don’t stick around as bar drinkers do. I had to get lost in my thoughts, which sucks. I was a bit pathetic today.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, thinking about the well-being of the people I care about and my inability to communicate normally even post-curse. Life sucks sometimes. I wish I could give my boyfriend better. He’s the best you know. Even if he always embarrasses me by over-complimenting my appearance. It helps that he’s really hot too. With these tattoos that make him look kinda tough.”

“Uhuh, that’s nice.”

“But noo, I made the ill decision, well maybe not ill. I quite like this drink. Maybe this is how addiction starts. I don’t have to think so much about what I say, kinda like before. Expect I don’t have as strong of a voice in my head telling me I could hurt people. I mean, I don’t know you so I don’t care. Plus I figure you’re used to this. Or you can always tune me out as I ramble. I don’t usually ramble. I wonder if that’s good for me. My boyfriend can, but he’s more endearing about it,”

“..you know what, I think you’ve had enough.”

Devin merely hmmed as the bartender took away the now half-empty glass. Devin just kept riding on that floaty feeling he had.

“Curious. I thought someone would have to be really bad for you to cut them off. Actually, I don’t think about it much. I used to think I was above that kind of thing.”

“Yeah? Ok. Is there someone who can come get you? That was a bit stronger than I meant it to be.”

Devin slowly narrowed his eyes at the bartender slowly.

“I feel like that’s a bad thing.”

“Yeah maybe, Anyways, should I call someone?”

Devin tilted his head in thought. Then he fiddled with his phone before pushing it over on the counter.

“I didn’t want any of them to know I was doing this. I can’t remember why at the moment though.”

The bartender nodded and did something with Devin’s phone. Devin wasn’t really paying attention though. He leaned on the side of the bar and hummed as he lazily looked around. He thought about this place he hadn’t been to before. Was that sign there when he got here?

Devin wasn’t really keeping track of time. He wasn’t sure how long it was before two of his favorite people walked in.

Devin smiled and threw his arms toward them.

“Remus! My absolutely wonderful super sexy boyfriend!”

Remus paused, eyes wide. Then he laughed a little.

“Hey babe, how are you feeling there?”

Devin tilted his head and tried to think about it.

“Don’ know. Not bad. Maybe weird. Did you know we have a bar near our shops? How have we never gone here?”

“I don’t know babe. Maybe we can talk about it later.”

“’kay.

Whooa.”

Devin stepped a little wobbly as he was helped out of his seat. He leaned into Remus.

“Mm, you’re so strong and sexy, Re.”

“Thanks, heh. I try. Especially for you my love.”

“Hmm, love.”

Someone, must have been Patton, put Devin’s other arm around his neck to help support him.

“I don’ talk about love a lot,” Devin continued. “Wanted to fix that. Remus, I love you. Like for real though. I love a lot about you. I get scared to say it for some stupid reason, don’ remember why now. But not because it’s not true. I love you. And you’re great. And the best boyfriend, and I don’t deserve you ‘cause I wanna say it more but I’m a coward for some reason.”

“Oh, you’re not a coward, Dee. And it’s ok.”

Devin sighed. “I’m gonna be better. Even if I don’t like it. I like you too much. “

“Okay, Dee.”

They made it out of the bar.

“If I didn’t need to take care of sexy scales here, I’d show that bartender a piece of my mind.”

“Remus…,” Patton started.

“Do you see him? He doesn’t drink like this.”

Devin let out a dreamy sigh though.

“Feels nice though.”

“Do you remember what you had?”

“Hmm, no. I didn’t get the name if it had one.”

“I could go and check,”

“Let’s just get him home, for now,” Patton said.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Paaton,” Devin said. “You’re a great best friend. The kind of sweet I say I don’t want but appreciate ‘cause people can be mean.”

Patton smiled at him a little. “I’m glad you think so. You are a great best friend too.”

Devin hmmed at that.

When they got to Devin’s place, they helped him to the couch and made sure he drank water.

“Please don’t be afraid to tell us how you are doing. We want to make sure you’re okay, We will always help take care of you,” Patton said.

Devin nodded. “Mm’kay.”

 “Is it alright if I stay the night, Dee? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course, Re. I love you.”

Remus huffed and smiled at him fondly. “Okay.”

“Let me know how he’s doing,” Patton said before leaving. Devin yawned and leaned back on the couch. Remus brushed some hair out of Devin’s face.

“I know you’re probably going to be embarrassed when you wake up sober if you remember how you’ve been tonight. But just know that you don’t have to be. Okay?”

Devin nodded and nuzzled against Remus.

“Goodnight, my love,” Remus said quietly and kissed Devin on the forehead. Devin drifted off.

[amistytown]

The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao. 

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

ok i’ll bite. thigh riding with jongho - 💅🏼

okay you know what? here’s a snippet of what i’m thinking for teach me part 2 (since THAT was just brought up)

he’s gained confidence and now he has no issue taking control and giving you orders. he’s a bit rough (mans is a hard dom all the way) even when he’s trying to be careful with you, he’s just so enthusiastic. you don’t mind though. you like it rough with him. sometimes when you’re particularly needy, he’ll adopt a tone that cuts right through you just to humiliate you. he’s always sure to build you back up afterwards, he loves you too much to say any of that shit and genuinely mean it. he’s also extremely possessive, which you learned after some guy at church started hitting on you after service a few weeks into your relationship.

okay enough of that, i think i’ve explained plenty. on to the actual excerpt:

he took you to dinner at the same place you went that first night. the same waitress took care of you and she was flirting hard. jongho didn’t fucking like that. he was quiet most of the way back to his place, a two bedroom townhouse connected to an empty two bedroom unit. essentially, he had a whole house to himself.

upon arrival, he quietly led you into his apartment while you anxiously chewed on your lip. you had an idea of what was wrong but you weren’t positive. “jongho?” your voice was soft as you sat with him on the sofa. before you could ask what was wrong, he had you positioned on his lap, similar to your first time. his hands rested on your thighs, inching up until they were under your skirt.

“did you like all that attention, princess?” this was a trick question. if you said no, he’d ask why not and show you how much you deserved that attention. if you said yes, he’d remind you he was the only one allowed to give you such attention. his expression was dangerous and you carefully calculated your answer as you watched his jaw tick in annoyance.

“i liked the attention from you, daddy.” you finally answered and he had to force himself not to melt into the sofa, giggling like a schoolgirl. instead, he raised an eyebrow and you began to worry you’d said the wrong thing. before you could backtrack, he was moving you so you straddled only one thigh.

“then how about you make it so my attention is only on you, baby?” you nodded instantly, eager to give him anything he wanted just so you could keep his interest. you didn’t have to try but he wasn’t about to tell you that when he could get you off while you vied for his affection. “ride.”

you felt like you’d been washed in battery acid and your hips didn’t move immediately. so his large hands, still under your skirt, moved to your ass and began to guide you. it didn’t take long for his hands to wander back to your hips, holding you tightly. you knew you’d have bruises in the morning, he had almost 200 pounds of force in those hands, but you didn’t mind one bit. he’d learned early on that you liked having hidden marks to remember him by.

he didn’t allow you time to really get worked up, he was desperate to feel you. so he lifted you up from his lap and stood you on your feet. once he was standing, he leaned down to scoop you up and tossed you over his shoulder, slapping your ass as he made his way to the bedroom. fuck you loved when he manhandled you.

———

thanks 💅🏻anon i’m puking and crying blood. what’s that address for the medical bill?

[hxlyhead-harpies]

Congratulations Weasley

Hi everyone!! This is for the lovely @heloisedaphnebrightmore ‘s 1k celebration! Congrats!! you totally deserve it! I really like this fic and i hope you all like it as well!

Summary: Fred Weasley has been completely insufferable and mean since third year. Unfortunately the reader still feels for him even after he takes his teasing too far

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst with a happy end

You didn’t mean to blow up on him like that. You didn’t mean to be blinded by unadulterated rage and let those words leave your lips. But if you were being honest with yourself, he thoroughly deserved it. After years and years of letting his words carve chinks into your armor, you were through. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore.

You had sat in the common room in your favorite skirt, hands folded neatly in your lap. You kept reaching up to smooth your hair, attempting to look your best. Cormac was supposed to meet you in the common room at noon. He was supposed to escort you to Hogsmeade where you’d eat at Madame Pudifoot’s. It was supposed to be romantic.

You were excited; it was your first date after all. You didn’t quite know if you fancied Cormac. He was brash and occasionally rude, but the feeling of being wanted to outweigh his flaws. It was rare that a boy would give you attention, so when Cormac had suavely asked you out, you couldn’t help but become giddy.

Angelina and Katie had helped you pick out an outfit. It was simple- a black skirt and a simple sweater- but you felt pretty nonetheless.

So you sat and waited. And waited. And waited. For hours you sat on the same sofa in the same position, slowly letting your resolve disappear.

You didn’t know what you had expected. Cormac was known to be an arsehole. Yet, the sting of rejection still affected you, causing you to push back tears.

Around three in the afternoon, Katie and Angelina stepped through the portrait hole. They were laughing about something, smiling wide. But when they caught sight of you, their smiles dropped.

“(Y/n)?” Angelina said, furrowing her brow. She shrugged off her jacket and made her way towards you.

“What are you still doing here?” Katie asked. You just shrugged.

“Still waiting for Cormac I suppose,” was your response. Angelina and Katie shared a look of pity. You blinked back tears. Angelina sat down on the couch next to you and rubbed your shoulder.

“He never showed?” she asked softly. You shook your head. Katie sat on your other side and laid her head on your shoulder.

“Well, he’s an absolute git then,” she began, “Can’t see how great you are.” You smiled softly at her words.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“I can’t believe he would do this,” Angelina said with a hint of anger lacing her voice.

“I can,” you said with a sniffle.

At that moment, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan stumbled through the portrait hole. You felt yourself stiffen. You had been friends with Lee and George since first year when you had spilled pumpkin juice on Lee one morning. The two of them were great; always joking with you and always making you feel welcome. But Fred was a whole other story. You had been friends with him in your early years of schooling as well, with you developing a small crush on him in the process. It was a puppy love kind of crush. The kind that had you giggling with your girlfriends at thirteen.

But in fourth year something had shifted. While your feelings for him only become stronger, he seemed to develop a strong dislike for you. The usual playful teasing turned into something genuinely meant to sting. His words no longer carried a playful tone, but only one with venom. You weren’t sure what had caused him to hate you, but all you knew was that you couldn’t hate him.

The three of them stepped into the common room, cheeks still flushed from the late autumn chill. The boys had wide smiles on their faces, which only dropped when they saw you. Lee and George immediately took notice of the tear tracks that ran down your face and concern filled their eyes.

“(Y/n)?” George questioned, taking a step towards you. You simply shot him a weak smile. The boys made their way over to the sofa.

“Are you alright?” Lee asked softly. You opened your mouth to answer but Fred interrupted you.

“Oh what is it this time?” he asked with an eye roll. Your eyebrows shot up. You were not in the mood for his insults.

“Fred…” Angelina hissed in a low warning tone. Fred ignored her.

“You’re always so dramatic, crying at the drop of a hat,” he complained. George gave him a swift elbow to the ribs.

“George!” he cried, touching the now tender area.

“Well Fred, I’ll have you know that she has every right to be upset,” Katie said, glaring at him. Fred scoffed.

“I doubt it,” he said in a low tone before flopping into the armchair across from you.

“What was it this time? You didn’t get top marks on a potions essay?” he guessed, “oh wait no! I bet you snapped a quill. What a tragedy!”

“Shove off Fred,” you said in a low voice. He just sent you a glare.

“So what happened?” George asked with genuine concern. You looked down at your hands as you felt the tears begin to rise again.

“McLaggen stood her up,” Katie explained.

“What an arsehole,” Lee exclaimed, shaking his head. George and Lee tried their very best to comfort you, offering to get back at Cormac for you. Their ideas of how to prank him made you laugh, slightly alleviating your sadness.

“Well, I don’t know what you expected,” Fred said, interrupting his friends. You turned to him, frowning.

“Please stop Fred,” you said, “I’m not in the mood today.”

“Well, I mean why would he want to go out with you?” he continued anyway. Your mouth dropped open in shock.

“Fred quit it,” George whispered to his twin. Fred just waved him off.

“I mean come on, McLaggen goes out with loads of girl but even he isn’t that desperate,” he said, gesturing towards you. You felt your cheeks grow warmer with rage.

“Shut up,” you said quietly, but he pushed on.

“I’m happy for him,” Fred said with a smile. Angelina squeezed your shoulder.

“Fred stop it,” she said defensively.

“He dodged a bullet,” Fred said, leaning back with a smirk. You stood up suddenly, rage flowing through your veins.

“Fred Weasley what is wrong with you,” you shouted. Fred froze. You had never fought back before.

“Do you really hate me so much?” you questioned, “so much that you feel the need to spend every minute of your existence trying to make me feel miserable?” Your hot tears were flowing freely at this point. Fred just gaped at you, his mouth opening and closing as if attempting to force out a response.

“Because if that was your goal? Congratulations Weasley, you’ve accomplished it,” you said, glaring at him. You turned to storm up to the dormitory. He stood up now too, seemingly regaining her senses.

“(Y/n) wait!” he shouted after you. You turned around and looked at him.

“I wish I never met you,” you yelled back at him. And with that, you turned and ran from him, leaving your shocked friends behind you.

~~~~~

“I hate him,” you said, laying on your back and staring up at the canopy above your bed. You felt the bed dip as Angelina sat down beside you.

“Me too,” she said, giving you a look that let you know that she didn’t believe you. You groaned and hit her with your pillow. Katie flopped down on your other side.

“I don’t know Angie, I don’t care how long she’s fancied him. I’d hate him too after what he just said,” Katie added, agreeing with you. Angelina shook her head.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she said. You flipped over so you were now on your stomach and stared at her.

“Angelina you say that every time he says things like this. I don’t think I believe you anymore,” you said. Angelina just shook her head.

“I swear! Fred isn’t mean. He wouldn’t purposely hurt you,” she explained.

“Yeah, he’s not mean to you,” you huffed. Angelina just shrugged.

“Maybe he’ll apologize this time,” Katie speculated. As usual, she was looking on the bright side.

“I doubt it,” you scoffed, “Fred never apologizes.”

“He actually seemed pretty upset after you left,” Katie explained. Angelina nodded.

“Yeah he kept pacing and looking towards the stairs like he was waiting for you to come back down,” she added.

“I don’t care what he did after I left. Do you think an apology could fix this?” you questioned. Your friends looked down at your quilt, knowing that you were right. Even after years of hurtful teasing, Fred had never said anything quite like this before. You were finally fed up with his insults and digs at you. Even if your heart still slightly ached for him, you couldn’t allow yourself to keep hurting. You sat up suddenly and surely and held your head high.

“I am done with him. From this moment on I am getting over Fred Weasley.”

~~~~~

For weeks you avoided him. You left the Great Hall when he would arrive. You’d sit as far from him as possible in lessons, and if he was with your friends, you’d leave or pretend that he wasn’t there. You weren’t quite sure if it even mattered though. He hadn’t attempted to make another dig at you since that day in the common room. Angelina and Katie were impressed with you. They had not expected you to stay away from him for so long. In the past, if he had made fun of you you’d usually brushed it off and continue to grin and bear it. But it was your last year and you were determined to enjoy your remaining time at school. And that meant staying away from Fred.

Though this didn’t stop you from missing him occasionally. Sometimes as you fell asleep you envisioned his fiery red locks and his distinctive smokey scent. The scent that you had smelled in your amortentia in fifth year. You envisioned him apologizing to you and trying to right his wrongs. But it was just a fantasy.

~~~~~

You were sitting in the library, your defense against the dark arts assignment in front of you. You were focused, your eyes scanning your textbook when someone sat across from you. You looked up and met eyes with none other than Cormac McLaggen. You narrowed your eyes. He hadn’t spoken to you since the day he stood you up.

“Hey (Y/n),” he said with a smirk.

“What do you want McLaggen?” you asked.

“Ouch. I thought we were on a first-name basis,” he said with mock offense. You rolled your eyes.

“No. You lost that privilege when you left me waiting for you in the common room instead of taking me out on our date,” you responded. McLaggen just laughed.

“Didn’t I apologize for that? I’m pretty sure I did,” he said. You scoffed.

“You didn’t. And even if you did apologize I wouldn’t be interested,” you answered. He just pouted at you in response.

“Come on, why don’t we give it another go? You and me at the black lake after dinner,” he said. You groaned.

“No. Now please leave me alone,” you answered. He furrowed his brows.

“Oh don’t be so whiny. Just meet me there after dinner,” he said, appearing frustrated. You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by another voice.

“She said no mate.” You turned around to see none other than Fred Weasley. McLaggen scowled at him.

“This isn’t any of your business Weasley,” he said. Fred sat down in the chair next to you.

“She’s my friend so I reckon that it is my business,” he answered defensively. McLaggen stiffened.

“You heard him,” you piped up, “leave me alone.” And with that, McLaggen stood up and walked away.

“You’re not getting another chance,” he said over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes.

“Good,” you retorted. After he had left you turned to Fred.

“Thank you,” you said curtly. He just nodded but made no move to leave the table. After a moment of silence, you began to hurriedly pack your things, determined to continue avoiding him.

“(Y/n), please,” he said, reaching for your arm. You scoffed and pulled it away.

“What do you want Weasley?” you asked. Fred flinched at your use of his last name.

“I just want to talk,” he answered. You continued to shove your things in your bag.

“I’m not interested in talking to you,” you responded. He let out a frustrated huff.

“I can tell. All you’ve done is avoid me,” he said. You paused and looked at him.

“Do you really think I’d be interested in seeing you after what you said to me? After all you’ve said to me?” you huffed. Fred looked down and gulped ashamedly.

“No,” was his response. You just shook your head and stalked out of the library.

~~~~~

After the library incident, Fred seemed to be on a mission. What his plan was, you weren’t sure, but you were on your guard. He timed his mornings so he could force himself beside you at the breakfast table. He would pour you your orange juice himself. During free time, he’d sit near you in the common room and attempt to make you laugh, telling over the top jokes. And the insults had stopped, the factor that had surprised you the most. Suddenly there was a new version of Fred in your life. Or rather, an old version that you hadn’t seen since third year. It confused you and you weren’t sure what his end game was.

One night you were sitting alone in the common room. Angelina and Katie had gone upstairs already but you continued to work on your potions essay beside the fire. You heard the portrait hole open and you turned to see the twins stumble through. It was well past curfew and you were certain the Filch was hot on their tail. George spotted you and waved before heading towards the boy’s dorms. Fred shot you a small smile but lingered in the center of the room. You sent him a curious gaze before returning to your assignment. After a moment you felt the sofa dip and saw that Fred had sat down beside you.

“Can we talk?” he asked. It was the same question that he had asked you weeks before in the library. You sighed.

“Fred I told you that I wasn’t interested in talking to you,” you replied, rubbing your temples.

“Please (Y/n),” he said, his eyes pleading with you.

“Fine,” you responded, “what do you have to say.” Fred looked down at his lap.

“I am so so sorry (Y/n). For what I said that day and for everything I said before,” he said. You scoffed.

“Do you really expect sorry to be enough?” you asked. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I never meant to hurt you,” was all he said. You felt yourself become angry again.

“Never meant to hurt me? What a load of rubbish! How did you think I would feel every time you insulted me?” you asked with a huff. Fred grabbed your hands.

“You seemed like you had a thick skin and I was stupid-” his voice was thick with emotion as you pulled your hands away and cut him off.

“None of that is a good enough excuse,” you said.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured once again. You gathered your things and made a move to get up. Fred made no attempt to stop you. You turned to head towards your room but hesitated.

“Fred I just need to ask you one thing,” you said as you slowly turned to face him. He looked at you with wide and hopeful eyes.

“Ask me anything. Anything at all,” he answered.

“Why. Why did you spend years being so terrible to me,” you asked, hoping for an answer to the questioned you had tortured yourself with for years.

“Because I’m in love with you,” he answered without a beat. Your mouth dropped open.

“What?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I was in love with you and I knew you would never feel the same. It felt better to distance myself than to pine,” he continued. You felt as if your heart had dropped into your stomach. The words that you had wanted to hear for years had finally been spoken but all they did was cause you pain.

“I never thought about how it would affect you,” he said honestly, “I was selfish.” You just gaped at him, unsure of what to say. You almost didn’t trust yourself to say anything. You were afraid that if you spoke you would just drop into his arms and let your resolve crumble, allowing yourself to say the same words back. But you knew that you couldn’t do that. Not when the pain of his words still stung like a fresh wound.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said after what felt like hours of silence.

“Well I had hoped that you felt the same,” he said, “but I expected you to slap me and storm off.” You almost smiled at his weak attempt at a joke.

“Fred I-” you started.

“It’s okay you don’t need to say anything,” he said, cutting you off. He stood up and made his way towards the stairs.

“I really am sorry,” he said once more before he began to ascend. You watched him leave.

“Fred wait!” you called after him. He turned to look at you. “I admit that I feel something for you,” you said. Fred began to smile.

“(Y/n) that’s-” you held your hand up to cut him off.

“But I can’t just allow myself to be with you. To just pretend that you never hurt me,” you said, “I’m worth more than that.” Fred nodded.

“You are. But I swear, I will spend every minute trying to prove to you that I love you. And I hope that someday you’ll give me a chance,” he said earnestly. You gave him a small smile.

“Good luck then,” you said, before turning around and scurrying up the stairs.

~~~~~

Fred kept true to his word and tried his best to win you over. He followed you around like a lost puppy, giving you small gifts and compliments. You always thanked him but never let your guard down as he doted on you. You were always afraid that things would go back to how they used to. But they never did. You began to look forward to classes when he would pass you short notes with jokes on them or when he would try to make you laugh from the other side of the room. You began to enjoy it when he would come to bother you in the library when you tried to study. He would try to distract you by playing with our hair or dramatically laying across the table. You started to look forward to his interruptions. Slowly your guard began to fall, but you were still careful with yourself and with your heart. But it seemed that Fred was as well.

~~~~~

The seasons began to change and so did your feelings for Fred. You found yourself daydreaming about him more often than before. And somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you allowed yourself to play with the idea of being with him. He was slowly repairing the heart that he had broken. After the Easter holidays, you found yourself alone with him by the black lake. You leaned under a tree with a book in your hand and he laid beside you.

“(Y/n),” he whined, “I’m bored.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“You could go find George or Lee and do something. No one’s forcing you to be out here,” you said with a smile. He sat up and smiled at you.

“But you’re out here. Where else would I want to be,” he said. You felt your face heat up as you shoved his shoulder.

“Oi! What was that for woman!” He yelled, playing throwing a handful of grass at you.

“Freddie!” you squealed, not realizing that you’d let his nickname slip past your lips. He froze.

“You haven’t called me that since third year,” he said quietly. You smiled.

“Well you haven’t been this nice to me since third year,” you answered teasingly. Fred ducked his head. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. You allowed yourself to stare at him unashamedly. His cheeks were flushed from the warm spring weather as he played with the grass on his robes. His hair was tousled and unkempt and you felt yourself reach out to fix it. He looked up at you with his jaw slacked as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“There,” you said, “all better.” He grinned at you, making you flush. You moved your hand from his hair and moved it to rest on his cheek. Fred placed his hand over yours as he leaned into your touch.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, too enamored with you to even realize that he said it. Your smile only widened.

“I love you too,” you responded softly. Fred’s eyes widened as he realized what you had said. His smile stretched impossibly wide.

“Did I hear that right? Did you just say that you loved me?” he asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yes. I love you, idiot,” you replied. He immediately tackled you with a hug, causing you to squeal with laughter. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a clunky first kiss. A first kiss interrupted by lovesick smiles and laughter.

“You love me!” he exclaimed loudly causing you to giggle. You just leaned up and gave him a quick peck.

“Congratulations Weasley,” you said, “You’ve accomplished your goal.”