#i swear to god every time i think of myself as a lazy piece of shit
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
First day of taking my ADHD meds twice a day instead of once (by splitting the dose in two) - surprise surprise, I am actually capable of doing things (and focusing on them) past four in the afternoon! Now let's see if I will still be able to fall asleep when I need to.
#i swear to god every time i think of myself as a lazy piece of shit#for not being able to do something#it turns out to be executive dysfunction#every. single. time#and somehow i am still not capable of accepting that and being compassionate to myself......#random#personal
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twst boys react to an insecure reader
Note/warning: gn reader, slight angst, self deprecating language, comfort, fluff
. . .
Ace
You: I’m hoping this scar oil can help fade my stretch marks.
• protests immediately
• probably starts screaming hysterically
• ‘no no no this can’t be!’
• this man love LOVES you
• that includes all of your stretch marks
• he’s always loved your many stretch marks no matter where they are on your body
• your hip, thigh, and butt stretch marks drive him bonkers
• he kept it a secret because he didn’t want you getting creeped out by him
• but now he wishes he had told you every loving thought that crossed his mind about your stretch marks
• he would rather die than ever let you get rid of them
“Babe, I love your tiger stripes. I swear I will tie myself to you if you even THINK about trying to fade them.”
Leona
You: Maybe I should try and find a way to get rid of these love handles…
• this lazy boy is about to start a riot
• he WILL overblot if you even try to get rid of them
• that’s like him saying he wants to try and get rid of his gorgeous mane - it doesn’t make any sense
• he finds your love handles incredibly useful
• whenever y’all cuddle, his hands are glued to your love handles
• gripping and massaging them is his favorite past time
• he is convinced that holding your love handles improves his mental health
• he grabs you and pulls you into bed with him
• he slinks down and starts to kiss your love handles (and occasionally nips them with his teeth)
• he looks up at you and let’s out a light growl
“Nope. I don’t give you permission to get rid of MY love handles. Yes, mine. Every single part of you belongs to me.”
Deuce
You: I’m going to have to toss this shirt. It’s super cute but I hate the way it accentuates my tummy rolls.
• this poor bby is deeply disturbed
• his soulmate hates themself??? (Yes, he knows you’re his soulmate. Y’all are meant to be together forever)
• you legitimately made his heart hurt
• one of his favorite physical features of yours is your tummy rolls
• he shuffles over to you standing in front of the mirror
• he wraps his arm around your torso and rests his hand on your tummy
• kisses the back of your neck while he rubs your tummy rolls
• you’ve grown completely flustered, surprised by Deuce’s sudden onslaught of affection
• you ask him what’s wrong but he just stays quiet
• after a few minutes of begging him to say something, he looks up at you through the reflection in the mirror
• his eyes are watery and his lip trembles as he begins to talk
“Please don’t say stuff like that. I like this shirt and I like your tummy rolls. I’m gonna show you how beautiful you are, no matter how long it takes.”
Ruggie
You: Your teeth are so perfect Ruggie. It’s hard not to compare them to mine. I wish my teeth looked more like yours with no gap whatsoever.
• he’s completely thrown off
• you think his teeth are perfect? Wait. You don’t like your teeth???
• but he loves your cute gap
• starts putting the pieces together and realizes that recently you’ve been covering your mouth when you smile
• how could he not have noticed this sooner?
• mentally hitting himself for letting your negative feelings go unnoticed
• wracks his brain for a temporary solution
• let’s out a disgruntled sigh before pulling you to him by your collar
• maybe a steamy make out sesh will do the trick
• leaves you an out-of-breath mess
• leans back and gives you a mischievous smirk
“You think my teeth are perfect? Well you’re perfect. Which means that your teeth, including my favorite gap, are perfect. If your brain starts producing those negative thoughts again then I guess I’ll have to kiss em out of you.”
Malleus
You: God I hate my cellulite. It makes me look so ugly.
• he has gone completely silent
• the way he’s staring at you is haunting
• he probably doesn’t even know what/where cellulite is
• all he can think about is the fact you said it makes you look ugly
• to find out that the love of his life hates an aspect of themself is numbing
• ‘what do you mean you hate your cellulite? Show me.’
• you show him the cellulite on your legs
• now he’s really confused as to why you don’t like it
• he thinks it makes your legs look like they have dimples
• Malleus proceeds to get down on one knee
• his slender hand grabs you right leg and holds it in place
• he litters kisses all over your cellulite
“I do not appreciate the way you talk about my heart and soul. You look stunning. Always. That includes this cellulite you seem to hate so much.”
. . .
Note: how malleus was staring at you after you said you hate your cellulite:
#twisted wonderland#headcanon#twst headcanons#fanfic#fanfiction#twst malleus#malleus draconia#twst ace#ace trappola#twst deuce#deuce spade#twst ruggie#ruggie bucchi#twst leona#leona kingscholar
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
⌞𝓓ALILA𝓗⌝
𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎.
about ⸝⸝ my realities ⸝⸝ pinterest ⸝⸝ instagram
𝓐BOUT ⟢ 𝓜YSELF
Hheelloooo!!!! i'm Dal (actually Elena but in my dr im Dalilah so we'll keep it that way...) i'm fifteen, soon i'll be sixteen so don't worry! i'm Argentinian but i'll speak in English since i can't find spanish people in here, sadly.
im just a teenager, a girl, woman, uh, and human!! i listen to different genres of music because i cant decide which one i like, and since i am chronically in the internet i hear anything and everything. i'm a weirdo but not because i'm pretty normal (???.
i can be everything, literally. it's a CURSE, but anyways. part of me screams nerd, weirdo (if i didn't mention that before), stupid, BUT, another part screams icon, it girl, the most chic and bohemian bitch you'll ever see. it's up to yall what you think of me, so.
𝓓alilah's favorites & 𝓜ore
────୨ৎ──── 𝓢eries
yall, let me introduce you to the best fcking series yall are gonna witness in your disastrous lifes: 𓇼 Dexter: do i even have to explain myself? it's giving assassin x sunshine (only between him and Rita ofc cs Lila is buried deep in hell for me). 𓇼 Prison break: i swear to god, michael scofield is to DIE for. even if the actor's gay in real life, we don't judge. 𓇼D.P: i finished this thing in like, a day or two. I am THE binge-watcher queen. i'm not playing.
────୨ৎ──── 𝓕ilms
Then movies, the pianist; shattered my heart in MILLION pieces, the pursuit of happiness; i cried myself to sleep the night i watched it because i felt bad for the lil kid, pulp fiction; idk i watched i with my dad, it's a classic in my family, and lastly, the assassin; im a HUGE fan of the smiths, so you can tell i really enjoyed it.
────୨ৎ────𝓜usic
yall i swear to GOD i have over a thousand of different favorite artists and genres, i literally forget all of them when i have to mention them. but here i go! 𓇼 Aespa: i'm into kpop like im into fish -im allergic to fish-, but somehow, aespa managed to pull me into their world. man, i don't know what them song have, they just too good. 𓇼 Queen: roger taylor's number one fan since a child. do not argue with me right now. 𓇼 NewJeans: or whatever they're called now because something happened with Hybe i think. i don't know, same with aespa. genuinely love them. 𓇼 The Cardigans, The Smiths, The Clash, every band with "the" honestly. me and my family have always been into sad 80's music.
Yall im making this too long, im a certified yapper
𝓢hifting 𝓙ourney
i started "shifting" in 2020, question marks because i actually never shifted at that time, yall the mis-information was CRAZY back then.
i left it because i took like, a break, between 2021 and 2022, got back at it in 2023 but only did scripts. i was honestly just focused on renovating my information with the right one, 2024 i was lazy but i did try some methods. BUT, on 2025 i WILL shift, on God itself and his baby mama and his small cute baby.
OKAY I HOPE YALL LIKE ME BECAUSE I SPENT A LOT TRYNA WRITE THIS DOWN (i genuinely have zero creativity to write. im probably the most boring person in Tumblr)
⌞𝓓ALILAH'𝓢 ⟢ 𝓡EALITIE𝓢⌝
𝚆𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕, 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚂𝚘𝚞𝚕.
────୨ৎ──── outer banks dr
just needed my teenage romance mixed with the beach life. honestly 10/10 (haven´t shifted yet but we're getting there!!) ⤷ s/o: JJ, duh.
────୨ৎ──── gossip girl dr
so, i just wanted drama at the moment i scripted this reality -i still want the drama guys-. wanted to be a diva and dress with chic/bohemian clothes. ⤷ s/o: Nate Archibald, i apologized to both Serena and Blair...
────୨ৎ──── true beauty dr
girl i became so obssessed with seojun after i watched this series -i still am-. i scripted this reality also because it seemed so cool (even tho it's kinda cringey...), i don't know, leave me alone⤷ s/o: seojun, of couuurseee
────୨ৎ──── fame dr
i just love being famous, the idea of being an icon. i just love being a cunty diva. i scripted that i can like, do whatever what i want so i don't get lots of scandals. i know i'd be a very controversial celebrity ⤷ s/o: none, sadly. i just wanted it to flow, so i could be with whoever i wanted 😈
𓇼 whats in my fame dr bag 𓇼 makeup routine
────୨ৎ──── ballerina dr
girls i just wanna achieve my childhood dream. i used to do ballet but i quit when i was 11. WORST DECISION SO FAR. when i tell you im stiff, i mean it. i lost so much elasticity omg.⤷s/o: an invented man because no boy could ever meet my awesome standards
𓇼 whats in my ballet bag
────୨ৎ──── soloist dr -kpop-
idk guys just wanted to. i really dont know what to say. i don't even listen that much kpop, i just think the dances are super fun. like, giselle in the middle in whiplash, girl that was so hard i went FERAL. ⤷ s/o: cha eunwoo/woo dohwan, i cannot decide
𓇼 stage makeup routine
okay so that's allllllllllllllllll!!!!!!!! im so excited to do this wtf??? i just wanna blog about my dr ant stuff. i wanna be cool like all the other bloggers on here
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vee is for Vampires - Chapter 2
Author: @sinnysuicide AO3: SinnySioux Vamp!Ville x F!reader Wordcount: 2k + Warnings: Will be smut. 18+ only. Read chapter 2 on AO3. Previous Chapter ❥ Next Chapter ❥ Fic Masterlist
Chapter 2: “Burn The Hat”
What a strange evening.
I stand in the shower for an eternity, feeling every muscle in my body release its tension. My lungs fill with shower steam. I lazily turn the power off, towel dry my hair and walk sleepily to my bedroom. Once my hair is dry and I’m in my silk pyjamas, I lay back and stare at the ceiling.
As soon as I close my eyes, his green eyes force their way into my vision. His milky white skin. His pink and plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. I cannot shake the image of him. It feels as though he is next to me, breathing the same air, close enough to kiss… I toss and turn for hours.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” I say out loud, in the darkness, disappointed at myself for my new obsession with the handsome stranger. I imagine him on top of me, my body sinking into the Egyptian cotton as he bites and sucks at my collarbone, and eventually fall asleep.
…
“Vee? What is Vee short for? Like Vincent fucking Price? I can’t BELIEVE you let him walk you home. He knows where you LIVE now. COMPLETE horror show!” rants Larissa on speakerphone as I gradually begin to lose the will to live.
I sigh heavily at her judgement. I could care less what she thinks. I consider excuses to end the call before she squeals in excitement. “Oh my god! Cute guy from the bar is calling! I gotta go!” and with a click I am alone with my thoughts.
Was it unwise to let him walk me home? I mean, he did rescue me from almost certain sexual assault. That has to count for something.
It’s a lazy Sunday. I clean my apartment, practise a bit of self care, and generally feel utterly restless. I switch on the tv for a bit of background noise.
“Today’s top story: two London men violently murdered. Police appeal for witnesses.”
I spin around on my heel and catch their faces, sure enough, the faces of my two attackers. “Fuck…” I whisper. My heart starts to race. He walked me home; I nearly invited a killer in. At the same time… surely, they deserved it? I didn’t see Vee use a weapon? Maybe they were drunk and choked on their own vomit? Maybe he didn’t mean to kill them?
“Oh god!” it dawns on me; what if I was an accomplice?! This is bad. I need to speak to him; to corroborate our story. How the fuck am I going to find him again? I spend an hour pacing my apartment, thinking about how to find him and talk to him. I decide on driving back to the bar, and looking for him around there. Maybe he would be looking for me too. I try to ignore the voice in my head telling me I am insane and going to get hurt.
I put on a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple black crop top. I need to make a bit of an effort in case I decide to go inside any bars. I put on a matt dark red lipstick and pop it in my clutch purse. I grab my car keys and speed out of the apartment complex.
I sit in the bar car park, uncomfortably close to an array of flowers left on the ground for the two pieces of shit who tried to hurt me. I wonder if the public would be so generous if they knew the type of men they were. I tap my steering wheel nervously, biting the inside of my lip. I sit listening to my favourite band, AFI, allowing the screams of Davey Havok to settle me.
An hour passes, it’s now 9pm. I feel utterly stupid. What are the chances of finding him, really? This is an utter waste of time. I turn the key in the ignition, when suddenly I notice a shadow in my rearview mirror. I turn the engine, and the music, off and listen. I see a man in a flat cap and… are those converse allstars? I swear Vee wore those the other night. I quietly exit my car and stealthily watch him. He chuckles, wiping what looks like blood (?!) from his lip and trudges forward. His balance is off, as though he’s been drinking far too much. Suddenly, he stops and looks up.
“You?” he laughs “Looking for trouble?” He ambles forward as I bite my lip, searching my brain for something witty to say.
“Looks like I found it”, I say, matter of factly, my chin raised to feign confidence. He closes the distance between us with a stride and looks down at me; his eyes that same glittery green, sparkling with curiosity and interest. His gaze drifts down to my lips and my heart starts to quicken. A smile makes his way across his lips as he tilts his head back to take all of me in. His teeth flash white in the dimly lit space.
“What did we say about walking around in the dark, hmm?”, he muses, “Vampires!” his eyes widen and he giggles.
I breathe him in. He smells woody, with a distinct smell of whisky. I think about licking whisky from his skin before I remind myself of the task at hand. “Vee… you killed those guys” I whisper, solemnly.
“Who? Oh, the pigs who tried to touch you against your will? Are you not relieved?” It is hard to argue with this logic.
“I, er, well… yes, but… I’d rather not get arrested for being an accomplice to murder!” I stumble through my words, wondering dismally why the fuck I bothered.
He leans back against my car and laughs wholeheartedly. “Shh, Vee, this is not funny!” I say, exasperated, but also trying not to laugh. He is adorable when drunk. Is this the same man who killed two men the other night? He stumbles and I grab his arm to keep him upright.
“Dammit, Vee, get in the car. I’m taking you home.” I roll my eyes as I open my door and get in.
He giggles again “Will you protect me from vampires? Garlic doesn’t work, just so that you’re aware!” He manages to get in without injuring himself and I sit beside him. I have a killer in my car: now fucking what?
“Okay, um, where do you live?” I ask, unsure if this is a good idea.
“Bloodlust Tower” he answers, unwavering.
“What??” I hiss, a little scared now.
“Beaufort Tower” he replies, grabbing my phone, “Let me type the postcode into your route planner”. I hook my phone to the speaker and my last played song starts again. Type O Negative’s Black No.1 begins to play, and I quickly turn it down, self conscious.
“You like Type O? Not just a beautiful face then!” he exclaims, turning the volume up. I blush furiously and try to maintain my composure as I set off on the 90 minute journey.
“Oh, uh, yeah… I love alternative music but I’m going through a gothic phase at the moment. I guess the sadder the music, the more beautiful it is… to me, at least”. I instantly regret the overshare but Vee leans in, placing a hand on my knee.
“I feel the same. It’s nice that you get it” he sighs, leaning back into his seat, “Music is my safe space. Whenever things get heavy, my guitar is always there for me”. He looks wistful.
“Oh… you play guitar?” I ask, imagining how on Earth this man could be any more attractive to me right now.
“Oh, yeah, um… I used to play professionally, in a band, we toured all over the world but, uh, yeah… that’s over now” he says, solemnly.
“You’ll have to play me something” I say, breaking my driving concentration to look at him and give him an earnest and encouraging smile. I’m certain I see him blush; though it’s hard to tell as he is so pale.
“So… what is Vee short for? Because I’m sure it isn’t Vampire” I laugh.
“What makes you so certain?” He implores.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the knowledge that no good mother would name their child fucking Vampire!” he laughs heartily and I join in; the conversation flows and our connection feels so natural.
“It’s, Veel-uh, spelt V-I-L-L-E. It’s, um, it’s Finnish”. So he ISN’T English, I knew it!
“Wow, I’d love to visit Finland. Have you ever seen the northern lights? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful” I sigh.
“I can” he whispers, I look over and we lock eyes for a moment. Oh god, is he flirting? I suddenly feel hot; I need to change the subject.
“So, um, should we talk about the dead guys?” I say, sheepishly.
“Why?” mutters Ville “They’re dead”. I don’t see how he doesn’t think this is a problem.
“Ville…” he takes a sharp intake of breath as his name rolls off my tongue. I pretend not to notice. “I’m scared of being arrested and thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, and I… I guess I’m scared for you too.” I can feel his eyes on me.
“You have nothing to fear, neither of us will be going to prison. Just trust me, okay?” I sigh.
“Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again.” He smiles.
“Good… because I want to talk about you.” he smirks.
We talk about our tastes in music and find quite a lot of overlap. Ville loves Type O Negative, obviously, and is a total fangirl for Black Sabbath. He tells me he met my favourite band, AFI, at some award show. I half smile because I don’t believe him.
“So you grew up here?” He asks.
“Yeah, not London, but in England. I wish I could say I’ve travelled lots but I really haven’t. I’d love to quit work, travel around Europe….”
“Why don’t you?” he interjects.
“Money” I say honestly “Can’t say I have a sugar daddy, unfortunately” I smirk.
“What about your family? Parents?” asks Ville.
I pause, my heart heavy, “I, er, they died when I was six”.
Stunned, he whispers “I’m so sorry”.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Don’t be, I barely remember it” I smile dishonestly. “I think we’re here?” I pull into a large and long gravelled driveway; there are tall black ornate gates. Did I take a wrong turn? There is a keypad for entry.
Ville leans over. “Six six six”, he says.
“Seriously?!” I roll my eyes and type in the code, and drive right in. I pull up outside a grand stately home. It’s dark, and how I long to see it in the light. There is a small fountain out front. I imagine how beautiful this could be in the warm sun.
Ville gets out of the car and walks around the back “Oh, um, you’re really fucking welcome” I mutter, before he opens my door and offers me his hand. “Very gentlemanly” I giggle, taking his hand “Thanks.” I climb out of the car and shut the door. I look up at the tall building in wonderment.
“Are you coming?” Demands Ville, palm outstretched. I take his hand and follow him inside. The hallway is illuminated by a large glass chandelier. I spy a plush dark red velvet chaise longue, a matching soft rug, black candelabras. The mood is dark but romantic.
“Vee is definitely for vampires” I whisper; as Ville laughs out loud.
“Am I that transparent?” he asks.
“I don’t know, let’s ask your gothic decor, shall we?” I smirk, teasing him. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing following a dangerous man into his remote home, but I must admit that part of me would be just fine if he murdered me on the chaise longue by candlelight.
He starts to climb the large wooden staircase, carpeted with - you guessed it - a dark red velvet runner down the middle. Ville turns back and looks at me “Come.” He demands.
My heart sinks. “Ville, I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am but-“
“I owe you a song”, his face softens as he interjects, his lips part, his eyes plead.
“Okay” I say, warily. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. There are beautiful oil paintings leading up the stair case. Night scenes, moons, woodland creatures on canvas. He is definitely a night owl, in love with all things dark, and I can’t help but find it endearing.
He reaches his large pale hands, adorned with pewter rings, in front of him and thrusts them into two tall wooden double doors. It’s so dark, I blink several times to acclimatise to the void in front of me. Ville reaches in his pocket and moves around the room, clicking his lighter. In a moment, the room is illuminated by beautiful black candlesticks. The walls are red, of course they are. Another chaise longue. A beautiful double mirrored vintage black wardrobe. In front of me is a huge four poster bed. The ornate wood is black, the sheets are what look like dark red silk. Everything about this room is elegant, but I can’t shake the air of loneliness that lingers within the walls.
“Take a seat, my darling” he purrs, and walks to the corner of the room. He removes his blazer jacket, throwing it to the ground. He’s wearing a black vest, his luscious milky skin glowing in contrast. I notice the swirling pattern of thorns down one arm; a beautiful intricate tattoo sleeve. I perch on the chaise longue, fearing that lying on his bed would send the wrong message. I’m not about to sleep with him at the drop of a hat, no matter how attractive he is. He grabs an acoustic guitar from one of several stands: he has quite the collection, and walks towards me.
He stops a couple metres from me and sits down cross legged. He tunes his guitar whilst my eyes wander. I realise he’s removed the hat and he has the most beautiful darkened curls of hair. I imagine running my hands through them as his face is buried in my… Christ, I need to get a grip. All of a sudden he begins to play;
“You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lust for hell regained
And love dust in the hands of shame
Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed
Lead you along this path in the dark
Where I belong until I feel your warmth
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart
I'll be the thorns in every rose
You've been sent by hope
I am the nightmare waking you up
From the dream of a dream of love
Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close
Paint you my soul scarred and alone
Waiting for your kiss to take me back home
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart”
As he sings, I feel his pain. He closes his eyes and bares his soul. He has a deep voice when he speaks, but when he sings his range is amplified. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my skin tingles. I just want to hold him; to comfort him.
“Ville… that was…” I am breathless ��that was beautiful.” He looks up and smiles wistfully at me. Spontaneously, I stand and walk over to him. I kneel in front of him and wrap my arms around him. His back is stiff and strong beneath my palms. The smell of whiskey still lingering. He does not move. My fingertips reach up to caress the curls at the back of his head and I bury my face in his neck. “Ville… who hurt you?” My voice breaking; his body softens and his large hands make their way around my back.
He nuzzles into my neck and sighs deeply. Whispering, he says “I have been lonely for so, so long. I have spent years holding on to the faintest hope that love would find me…” I tense my arms to hold him tighter and he begins to pull away.
His hands grasp my shoulders lightly. He pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. His face is a mere inch from mine. His beautiful green eyes searching mine for something. “Who ARE you?” he implores.
I blush “What do you mean?”
His eyes drop to my lips. “Where have you been, baby?” I stop breathing. The world stands still. His lips crash into mine.
Our lips move together as he tilts his head. I feel him run his tongue lightly between my lips, begging for entry. I open my mouth to take a small breath and his tongue claims mine. Lapping, massaging, caressing my tongue with his. His hands on my back become heavier as he pulls me toward him; removing the small gap between our bodies. My knees find themselves either side of Ville’s waist as I straddle his lap. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling, teasing. Suddenly, Ville breaks the kiss “I can’t!” he pleads, looking torn.
“W-what?” I whisper, dejected.
“You deserve more than this, a sober man for starters. You are far too good for me-“ I silence him with my index finger on his lips.
“Shh” I soothe him “You are enough; don’t try to convince me - or anyone - that you are less.” I kiss his forehead lovingly and he lets out a contented sigh.
Again, he whispers “Where have you been, baby? I wanted you for so long”. He looks into my eyes with yearning. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. Only you, Ville.”
His bright eyes and smile light the darkness around us. “Let’s not do this on the floor” smirks Ville as he pulls me to stand and walks me to the foot of his enormous bed. My hand begins to shake in his as my anxiety makes itself known to him. Ville strokes his hand up and down my arm as comfort; “I’m not expecting anything at all. I just want you to feel comfortable”. We sit on the edge of the bed and he cups my face with his pale hands, and kisses me sweetly. I kick off my boots and shuffle up the bed. He follows suit and we lie, arms wrapped around each other, exploring our mouths with our tongues.
My fingers wrapping around his curls, he giggles. “You like the hair, huh?” He asks.
“Mmm” I reply “Burn the hat”; he smiles into our kiss.
I lean back to look at him. His eye lashes are longer than I realised up close. There are tiny wrinkles either side of his eyes from smiling and laughing. He has a slight stubble and soft, plump, pink lips; a bright white grin and beautiful emerald green irises. My fingers travel the thorn sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. He shivers and closes his eyes. “What?” I smile.
“You” he replies “Your touch, your skin…” he signs as his eyes wander “I am demonstrating excellent self restraint right now”. He grins wickedly.
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Please, baby” he sighs “I’m trying to be a gentleman”.
We spend hours talking about our hopes, our dreams, touching, giggling, kissing. He promises to take me to Finland; and to play me a song every morning on his guitar. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, nuzzling into the back of my neck, and we fall asleep in each others arms.
…
I have never slept so well in my life. I roll over to find Ville on his back, still sleeping. It’s still so dark in his room but I can see a strip of white light around the black out curtains. It must be morning. I gently sneak out of bed to grab my purse and find my phone. I have a couple of hours before work, so I have a half hour or so to snuggle with Ville. I crawl into bed on all fours, trying to wake Ville with light kisses on his forehead, temples, cheeks.
“Wow, you sleep like the dead!” I mutter. I place my palm on his shoulder and shake him gently. “Wake up, I have work soon” I purr. I dial the sensuality up a notch and start to lick and nip at his neck. He jolts and his limbs stiffen. I trail the tip of my tongue from his neck, up and around his jawline, until I reach his bottom lip. I nip it slightly with my teeth and he grabs both of my wrists and swiftly twists himself on top of me.
His eyes are not green, but dark. He kisses me deeply, but I sense something is off. He’s silent, he’s rough… something is not right.
“Ville… stop!”. He grabs my jaw with his hand and forces it aside. He moves to my neck and bites down. I feel his sharp teeth and scream.
He jolts back, as if woken from a dream. His eyes are light green and wide; his mouth crimson with my blood “Oh god… FUCK… I am so sorry!” He loosens his grip and I scramble from the bed, grabbing my heels and my purse.
I am trembling and crying and running through the darkness. HOW is his home this dark?!? I reach the front door and hear him running down the staircase. “Please! I’m sorry! Let me explain!” My legs threaten to give way underneath me as I hesitate, part of me wanting to give him a chance. My neck hurts and I place pressure on it. I move my hand in front of me and gasp at the bloody mess on my fingertips. He reaches a hand towards me and I shove my hip into the door with full force. It swings open and the sunlight bears down on his arm; I watch his pallid skin sizzle and smoke in the bright light. He screams in pain and falls backward and I run to my car. I pull the door open, fling my belongings into the passenger seat and lock the doors. The adrenaline pumping through my body, I drive fast towards the large ornate gates. I type in 666 and speed away from this nightmare, a flurry of tears raining across my steering wheel and my lap. I hear myself sobbing but I persevere until I am home.
I rush into my flat, lock the door and fall to the floor; I cry and cry until I am empty. I step into the bathroom and observe the damage. Two puncture wounds on my neck. Just when I am sure I have no tears left, I begin to cry again. I cleanse the wound and flinch at the sting. I bandage myself up the best that I can, lie face down on my bed, and sob until I pass out.
AO3: SinnySioux; more to come 🦇
Graphics by saradika-graphics
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
HOW DO YOU DRAW SO QUICKLY AGH
I swear every time I turn around you’ve posted another masterpiece I’m jealous you can draw so fast it takes me like 3 days at least for a piece lol
AHH i keep being asked this and im flattered yall think this?? ill take a bit to explain the choices that help with my speed and circumstantial stuff that helps a lot
obligatory YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THINGS FAST taking your time is good!! i just get bored easily so i like being done with things and moving on, but i'm very aware of the fact that social media rewards this and punishes inconsistency so i get it lol
long ass ramble under the cut lol
okay so things i deliberately do to draw fast-
i specifically have 2 distinct styles because i constantly have too many ideas, and most of them don't need to be several hour long illustrations so i try to pick my battles and go for a simpler more expressive style for shitposts/memes/etc and reserve my more detailed style for ideas that actually benefit from having that extra time and effort. ofc this won't work for everyone but i tend to have 50 styles at any given moment anyway so giving myself the freedom to switch between them has been really nice
not necessarily deliberate??? but theres no perfectionism in this house, which helps a lot so i don't spend ages fussing over minute details (im a perfectionist at heart but a lazy one LOL)
giving myself time deadlines is also really helpful, like "i have to finish the lineart im the next half an hour" has been really good for getting me to focus and get things done, even if i don't make the 'deadline'. i think generally being conscious of how i use my time is good
okay so circumstantial (?) things-
ALSO USE REFERENCES they help a lot!!! stumbling around trying to figure things out on your own is time consuming, don't be scared of using references!
this isn't a speed thing but i think it's important to note that i spend like ALL my free time drawing, probably to a ridiculous degree. i draw during my work break, i draw after work, on the weekend, speed is nothing in the face of time lol. im usually tired after work but im also stubborn so i try to push through and draw anyway (50/50 chance it works and i get something done or i just sit there in a daze wishing i was asleep LOL)
im also a dumbass who takes on way too much, i have a whole buncha zines and commissions constantly at all times cause i can never say no so i kinda just HAVE to be fast to keep up with everything. i don't recommend it but it's a thing ashdjfj
i also used to be on tiktok and for some god forsaken reason i spent like a solid few months consistently posting 3 times per day which burnt me out SO fast and i absolutely don't recommend but it definitely required speed lol
i will also say that as i draw more and feel more comfortable in my art it comes to me a lot more naturally, and i'm able to make decisions on the fly a lot easier
also okay so starr lore my dad used to be really against me drawing so i would have to sneak onto the computer when he was out of the house hahaha, this gave me anywhere from 30 mins to 2 hours per day to do whatever i wanted, so i had to quickly adapt to that and be super fast if i ever wanted to get anything done
again speed isnt the be all end all of anything, tbh most of this is just my brain working in weird ways that prefers the quicker pace so please don't compare yourself!!
okay long ass ramble over thanks for reading <3333
#ask box#wow that was long hahaha#i don't think this is particularly helpful so maybe don't take it as advice but it's an explanation#if you take anything from this tho please let it be that we all have different life circumstances#so don't compare yourself >:0
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Undead Girl Murder Farce Episode 1: Oni Slayer
What do you get when you cross an incredibly weird manga with the director/creative visionary behind the Love Is War anime adaptation? Well, if the answer wasn't obvious, you get something incredibly creative, weird, and cool. Lapin Track might not be a studio people really know the name of, but between the creator of this story, and the director of this anime, they certainly want to leave a lasting impression on anybody that takes a chance with this story. And they've absolutely left me with a mountain of stuff to talk about.
The short of it though? Watch this show, right now if you haven't already.
Where to even begin? I think the introduction of the setting for the world is a little low effort, but I do really like the direction of the actual pieces between it. There's an incredible amount of creative and incredibly unique cuts right from the start that lets viewers know they're in for a ride. Just take a look at this blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment.
But yeah, Undead Girl Murder Farce takes very little time to live up to its name, both in terms of visuals and story, as we follow around our hybrid Oni lead character Tsugaru. Right away, his character grabs you with his over the top but equally lax nature that's all about showing off and having some fun.
Of course, his character isn't purely fun and lazy, there's a deeper past to him as well, and they showcase that very early on through his vice of drinking. Very effective and simple, it doesn't try to claw anything out of viewers, but rather add just a bit of an explanation to his character. And of course, it does it in style, mirroring the focus on each limb in the present vs his past before bringing him back to reality.
If I were to choose a single theme for this episode, it would be parallel. A monster in a cage, a human on the streets, past and present blurring, harmless creature vs foul beast. An act, or a farce? The entirety of it is mimicry and dichotomies, like Tsugaru mimicking this cat that he protects from a random crowd. And it's incredibly well done.
Alright, I've got to speed this along or I'm going to be here all day. It's good, it's great, it's bold, so on and so forth. What's next? Well, this cool ass fight, of course. Yeah, Lapin Track providing not only good animation, but impressive, creative, and in character direction for a fight scene? I was really just sitting watching this episode with my jaw hanging loose (though this is now my third time through the episode).
There's really not much else to say. The fighting styles and approaches are perfectly in tune with the characters and their thoughts in the moment. They make full use of their surroundings and the tools at their disposal, and you can absolutely tell that Tsugaru is trying to show off while diffusing tension and peaceful disabling his assailant.
God, I wish I could share the whole episode. It's Just. That. Good.
Okay okay, last piece! This parallel during the fight that's meant to depict/explain the combat going on. I swear, this is the last bit from this fight (it's just so good I can't stop myself I'm sorry).
Sadly, I can't, so I have to try to continue trimming my thoughts down, further and further until I can reasonably leave them in a Tumblr post that doesn't go over each and every frame of the episode.
Okay, where to next? We get the reveal that the lady Tsugaru is fighting is just the maid of the only immortal person in the world, and that at this point they're only a head. We also see that this person wants Tsugaru to kill them, which sparks just more incredible scenery that I want to share every second of.
And then of course we start our wandering into town with Tsugaru and our bodiless Immortal Aya, and Lapin Track just refuses to pump the brakes and delivers the best scene from the episode.
Who is man, and who is monster? Who that exists within the confines of the cage is free to leave it with their own will? An absolutely incredible monologue from Tsugaru that exposes his character, morals, and motive, as the neither-man-nor-oni that he exists as. His desire to bring wrath upon the people that watch on and view him as a monster, that indulge in the depravity of his violence, to strike startling fear into their very beings and provide a worthy stage for him to exit on.
It's really incredible how well they weave this story into something that seems so disjointed. How they bring the idea of cages and confines in with things like Aya's birdcage or the chain link fence Tsugaru finds, how his pose and gesturing to the stage that he's created is mimicked atop the bodies that litter the ground as if he were crucified, or how the very notion of looking down on Tsugaru is made visible through this pose.
Anyways, Billy Mays here cause we're not done yet! This episode is the gift that keeps on giving, though this time it's in the form of environment art. So busy and color, but also empty and very selective, it varies wildly within the span of only a minute or two as our characters chatter on about the concept of death and dying, and their desire to live that hangs in the balance.
By some miracle I've made it towards the end of the episode in reasonable time. It's here that Aya finally accepts Tsugaru's proposal of going after Aya's body to return her to normal, and the pair seal this partnership with.... a kiss. Just puts the icing on the cake for how much of a borderline insane episode this is.
And there it is, the first episode of Undead Girl Murder Farce. Finally, an end to the insanity appears in the form of it's ending song. What a wild ride, the idea of two beings that hover between life and death, exist in a world separate of everyone else's, that find each other and embark on a journey of revenge and retribution. There's really a world to this story, and if I were forced to make a comparison? It plays a lot like an action oriented Nisioisin story might. Not quite the same oddities and idiosyncrasies, but through the many layers that characters communicate through with one another, and how they dance around ideas and ideals. Regardless of my poor attempts to explain the episode or to entice people with it though, I really hope you'll find the time to give it a change to grab you.
#undead girl murder farce#アンデッドガール・マーダーファルス#mystery anime#supernatural anime#anime recommendation#anime review#anime and manga#anime
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 2: Burn the Hat
What a strange evening.
I stand in the shower for an eternity, feeling every muscle in my body release its tension. My lungs fill with shower steam. I lazily turn the power off, towel dry my hair and walk sleepily to my bedroom. Once my hair is dry and I’m in my silk pyjamas, I lay back and stare at the ceiling.
As soon as I close my eyes, his green eyes force their way into my vision. His milky white skin. His pink and plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. I could not shake the image of him. It felt as though he was next to me, breathing the same air, close enough to kiss… I tossed and turned for hours.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” I say out loud, in the darkness, disappointed at myself for my new obsession with the handsome stranger. I imagine him on top of me, my body sinking into the Egyptian cotton as he bites and sucks at my collarbone, and eventually fall asleep.
…
“Vee? What is Vee short for? Like Vincent fucking Price? I can’t BELIEVE you let him walk you home. He knows where you LIVE now. COMPLETE horror show!” rants Larissa on speakerphone as I gradually began to lose the will to live.
I sigh heavily at her judgement. I could care less what she thinks. I consider excuses to end the call before she squeals in excitement. “Oh my god! Cute guy from the bar is calling! I gotta go!” and with a click I am alone with my thoughts.
Was it unwise to let him walk me home? I mean, he did rescue me from almost certain sexual assault. That has to count for something.
It’s a lazy Sunday. I clean my apartment, practise a bit of self care, and generally feel utterly restless. I switch on the tv for a bit of background noise.
“Tonight’s top story: two London men violently murdered. Police appeal for witnesses.”
I spin around on my heel and catch their faces, sure enough, the faces of my two attackers. “Fuck…” I whisper. My heart starts to race. He walked me home; I nearly invited a killer in. At the same time… surely, they deserved it? I didn’t see Vee use a weapon? Maybe they were drunk and choked on their own vomit? Maybe he didn’t mean to kill them? “Oh god!” it dawned on me; what if I was an accomplice?! This was bad. I needed to speak to him; to corroborate our story. How the fuck was I going to find him again? I spent an hour pacing my apartment, thinking about how to find him and talk to him. I decided I would drive back to the bar, and look for him around there. Maybe he would be looking for me too. I tried to ignore the voice in my head telling me I was insane and going to get hurt.
I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, studded Valentino heels and a simple black Bardot crop top. I needed to make a bit of an effort in case I decided to go inside any bars. I put on a Matt dark red lipstick and then popped it in my clutch purse. I grabbed my car keys and sped out of the apartment complex.
I sat in the bar car park, uncomfortably close to an array of flowers left on the ground for the two pieces of shit who tried to hurt me. I wonder if the public would be so generous if they knew the type of men they were. I tapped my steering wheel nervously, biting the inside of my lip. I sat listening to my favourite band, AFI, I allowed the screams of Davey Havok to settle me.
An hour passed, now it was 9pm. I felt utterly stupid. What were the chances of finding him, really? This was an utter waste of time. I turn the key in the ignition, when suddenly I notice a shadow in my rearview mirror. I turn the engine, and the music, off and listen. I see a man in a flat cap and… are those converse allstars? I swear Vee wore those the other night. I quietly exit my car and stealthily watch him. He chuckles, wiping what looks like blood (?!) from his lip and trudges forward. His balance is off, as though he’s been drinking far too much. Suddenly, he stops and looks up.
“You?” he laughs “Looking for trouble?” He ambles forward as I bite my lip, searching my brain for something witty to say. “Looks like I found it” I say, matter of factly. He closes the distance between us with a stride and looks down at me. His eyes that same glittery green, sparkling with curiosity and interest. His gaze drifts down to my lips and my heart starts to quicken. A smile makes his way across his lips as he tilts his head back to take all of me in. His teeth flash white in the dimly lit space. “What did we say about walking around in the dark, hmm?” he muses “Vampires!” his eyes widen and he giggles.
I breathe him in. He smells woody, with a distinct smell of whisky. I think about licking whisky from his skin before I remind myself of the task at hand. “Vee… you killed those guys” I whisper, solemnly. “Who? Oh, the pigs who tried to touch you against your will? Are you not relieved?” It was hard to argue with this logic. “I, er, well… yes, but… I’d rather not get arrested for being an accomplice to murder!”
He leans back against my car and laughs wholeheartedly. “Shh, Vee, this is not funny!” I say, exasperated, but also trying not to laugh. He is adorable when drunk. Is this the same man who killed two men the other night? He stumbles and I grab his arm to keep him upright. “Dammit, Vee, get in the car. I’m taking you home.” He giggles again “Will you protect me from vampires? Garlic doesn’t work, just so that you’re aware!” He manages to get in without injuring himself and I sit beside him. I have a killer in my car; now fucking what?
“Okay, um, where do you live?” I ask, unsure if this is a good idea. “Bloodlust Tower” he answers, unwavering. “What??” I hiss, a little scared now. “Beaufort Tower” he replies, grabbing my phone “Let me type the postcode into your route planner”. I hook my phone to the speaker and my last played song starts again. Type O Negative’s Black No.1 begins to play, and I quickly turn it down, self conscious. “You like Type O? Not just a beautiful face then!” he exclaims, turning the volume up. I blush furiously and try to maintain my composure as I set off on the 90 minute journey. “Oh, uh, yeah… I love alternative music but I’m going through a goth phase at the moment. I guess the sadder the music, the more beautiful it is… to me, at least”. I instantly regret the overshare but Vee leans in, placing a hand on my knee, “I feel the same. It’s nice that you get it” he sighs, leaning back into his seat, “Music is my safe space. Whenever things get too heavy, my guitar will always be there for me”. He looks wistful. “Oh… you play guitar?” I ask, imagining how on Earth this man could be any more attractive to me right now. “Oh, yeah, um… I used to play professionally, in a band, we toured all over the world but, uh, yeah… that’s over now” he says, solemnly. “You’ll have to play me something” I say, breaking my driving concentration to look at him and give him an earnest and encouraging smile. I’m certain it made him blush; though it’s hard to tell as he is so pale.
“So… what is Vee short for? Because I’m sure it isn’t Vampire” I laugh. “What makes you so certain?” He implores. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the knowledge that no good mother would name their child fucking Vampire!” he laughs heartily and I join in; the conversation flows and our connection feels so natural. “It’s, Veel-uh, spelt V-I-L-L-E. It’s, um, it’s Finnish”. So he ISN’T English, I knew it! “Wow, I’d love to visit Finland. Have you ever seen the northern lights? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful” I sigh. “I can” he whispers, I look over and we lock eyes for a moment. Oh god, is he flirting? I suddenly feel hot; I need to change the subject.
“So, um, should we talk about the dead guys?” I say, sheepishly. “Why?” mutters Ville “They’re dead”. I don’t see how he doesn’t think this is a problem. “Ville…” he takes a sharp intake of breath as his name rolls off my tongue. I pretend not to notice. “I’m scared of being arrested and thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, and I… I guess I’m scared for you too.” I can feel his eyes on me. “You have nothing to fear, neither of us will be going to prison. Just trust me, okay?” I sigh “Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again.” He smiles “Good… because I want to talk about you.” he smirks.
We talk about our tastes in music and find quite a lot of overlap. Ville loves Type O Negative, obviously, and is a total fangirl for Black Sabbath. He tells me he met my favourite band, AFI, at some award show. I half smile because I don’t believe him.
“So you grew up here?” He asks. “Yeah, not London, but in England. I wish I could say I’ve travelled lots but I really haven’t. I’d love to quit work, travel around Europe”… “Why don’t you?” he interjects. “Money” I say honestly “Can’t say I have a sugar daddy, unfortunately” I smirk. “What about your parents?” asks Ville. I pause, my heart heavy, “I, er, they died when I was six”. Stunned, he whispers “I’m so sorry”. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear “Don’t be, I barely remember it” I smile dishonestly. “I think we’re here?” I pull into a large and long gravelled driveway; there are tall black ornate gates. Did I take a wrong turn? There is a keypad for entry. Ville leans over “Six six six” he says. “Seriously?!” I roll my eyes and type in the code, and drive right in. I pull up outside a grand stately home. It’s dark, and how I long to see it in the light. There is a small fountain out front. I imagine how beautiful this could be in the warm sun.
Ville gets out of the car and walks around the back “Oh, um, you’re really fucking welcome” I mutter before he opens my door and offers me his hand. “Very gentlemanly” I giggle, taking his hand “Thanks.” I climb out of the car and shut the door. I look up at the tall building in wonderment. “Are you coming?” Demands Ville, palm outstretched. I take his hand and follow him inside. The hallway is illuminated by a large glass chandelier. I spy a plush dark red velvet chaise longue, a matching soft rug, black candelabras. The mood is dark but romantic. “Vee is definitely for vampires” I whisper; as Ville laughs out loud. “Am I that transparent?” he asks. “I don’t know, let’s ask your gothic decor, shall we?” I smirk, teasing him. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing following a dangerous man into his remote home, but i must admit that part of me would be just fine if he murdered me on the chaise longue by candlelight.
He starts to climb the large wooden staircase, carpeted with - you guessed it - a dark red velvet runner down the middle. Ville turns back and looks at me “Come.” He demands.
My heart sinks. “Ville, I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am but-“
“I owe you a song” his face softens as he interjects, his lips part, his eyes plead. “Okay” I say, warily. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. There are beautiful oil paintings leading up the stair case. Night scenes, moons, woodland creatures on canvas. He is definitely a night owl, in love with all things dark, and I can’t help but find it endearing.
He reaches his large pale hands, adorned with pewter rings, in front of him and thrusts them into two tall wooden double doors. It’s so dark, I blink several times to acclimatise to the void in front of me. Ville reaches in his pocket and moves around the room, clicking his lighter. In a moment, the room is illuminated by beautiful black candlesticks. The walls are red, of course they are. Another chaise longue. A beautiful double mirrored vintage black wardrobe. In front of me is a huge four poster bed. The ornate wood is black, the sheets are what look like dark red silk. Everything about this room is elegant, but I can’t shake the air of loneliness that lingers within the walls.
“Take a seat, my darling” he purrs, and walks to the corner of the room. He removes his blazer jacket, throwing it to the ground. He’s wearing a black vest, his luscious milky skin glowing in contrast. I notice the swirling pattern of thorns down one arm; a beautiful intricate tattoo sleeve. I perch on the chaise longue, fearing that lying on his bed would send the wrong message. I’m not about to sleep with him at the drop of a hat, no matter how attractive he is. He grabs an acoustic guitar from one of several stands: he has quite the collection, and walks towards me. He stops a couple metres from me and sits down cross legged. He tunes his guitar whilst my eyes wander. I realise he’s removed the hat and he has the most beautiful darkened curls of hair. I imagine running my hands through them as his face is buried in my… Christ, I need to get a grip. All of a sudden he begins to play;
“You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lust for hell regained
And love dust in the hands of shame
Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed
Lead you along this path in the dark
Where I belong until I feel your warmth
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart
I'll be the thorns in every rose
You've been sent by hope
(You'll grow cold)
I am the nightmare waking you up
From the dream of a dream of love
(Just like before)
Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close
Paint you my soul scarred and alone
Waiting for your kiss to take me back home
Hold me like you held on to life
When all fears came alive and entombed me
Love me like you loved the sun
Scorching the blood in my vampire heart”
As he sings, I feel his pain. He closes his eyes and bares his soul. He has a deep voice when he speaks, but when he sings his range is amplified. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my skin tingles. I just want to hold him; to comfort him.
“Ville… that was…” I am breathless “that was beautiful.” He looks up and smiles wistfully at me. Spontaneously, I stand and walk over to him. I kneel in front of him and wrap my arms around him. His back is stiff and strong beneath my palms. The smell of whiskey still lingering. He does not move. My fingertips reach up to caress the curls at the back of his neck and I bury my face in his neck. “Ville… who hurt you?” My voice breaking; his body softens and his large hands make their way around my back. He nuzzles into my neck and sighs deeply. Whispering, he says “I have been lonely for so, so long. I have spent years holding on to the faintest hope that love would find me, hold me…” I tense my arms to hold him tighter and he begins to pull away. His hands grasp my shoulders lightly. He pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. His face is a mere inch from mine. His beautiful green eyes searching mine for something. “Who ARE you?” he implores. I blush “What do you mean?” His eyes drop to my lips, “Where have you been, baby?” I stop breathing. The world stands still. His lips crash into mine.
Our lips move together as he tilts his head. I feel him run his tongue lightly between my lips, begging for entry. I open my mouth to take a small breath and his tongue claims mine. Lapping, massaging, caressing my tongue with his. His hands on my back become heavier as he pulls me toward him; removing the small gap between our bodies. My knees find themselves either side of Ville’s waist as I straddle his lap. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling, teasing. Suddenly, Ville breaks the kiss “I can’t” he pleads, looking torn.
“W-what?” I whisper, dejected. “You deserve more than this, a sober man for starters. You are far too good for me-“ I silence him with my index finger on his lips “Shh” I soothe him “You are enough; don’t try to convince me - or anyone - that you are less.” I kiss his forehead lovingly and he lets out a contented sigh. Again, he whispers “Where have you been, baby? I wanted you for so long”. He looks into my eyes with yearning. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. Only you, Ville” his bright eyes and smile light the darkness around us. “Let’s not do this on the floor” smirks Ville as he pulls me to stand and walks me to the foot of his enormous bed. My hand begins to shake in his as my anxiety makes itself known to him. Ville strokes his hand up and down my arm as comfort; “I’m not expecting anything at all. I just want you to feel comfortable”. We sit on the edge of the bed and he cups my face with his pale hands, and kisses me sweetly. I kick off my heels and shuffle up the bed. He follows suit and we lie, arms wrapped around each other, exploring our mouths with our tongues. My fingers wrapping around his curls, he giggles. “You like the hair, huh?” He asks. “Mmm” I reply “Burn the hat”; he smiles into our kiss.
I lean back to look at him. His eye lashes are longer than I realised up close. There are tiny wrinkles either side of his eyes from smiling and laughing. He has a slight stubble and soft, plump, pink lips; a bright white grin and beautiful emerald green irises. My fingers travel the thorn sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. He shivers and closes his eyes. “What?” I smile. “You” he replies “Your touch, your skin…” he signs as his eyes wander “I am demonstrating excellent self restraint right now”. He grins wickedly. “Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Please, baby” he sighs “I’m trying to be a gentleman”. We spend hours talking about our hopes, our dreams, touching, giggling, kissing. He promises to take me to Finland; and to play me a song every morning on his guitar. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, nuzzling into the back of my neck, and we fall asleep in each others arms.
…
I have never slept so well in my life. I roll over to find Ville on his back, still sleeping. It’s still so dark in his room but I can see a strip of white light around the black out curtains. It must be morning. I gently sneak out of bed to grab my purse and find my phone. I have a couple of hours before work, so I have a half hour or so to snuggle with Ville. I crawl into bed on all fours, trying to wake Ville with light kisses on his forehead, temples, cheeks. “Wow, you sleep like the dead” I mutter. I place my palm on his shoulder and shake him gently. “Wake up, I have work soon” I purr. I dial the sensuality up a notch and start to lick and nip at his neck. He jolts and his limbs stiffen. I trail the tip of my tongue from his neck, up and around his jawline, until I reach his bottom lip. I nip it slightly with my teeth and he grabs both of my wrists and swiftly twists himself on top of me. His eyes are not green… they are dark. He kisses me deeply, but I sense something is off. He’s silent, he’s rough… something is not right. “Ville… stop”. He grabs my jaw with his hand and forces it aside. He moves to my neck and bites down. I feel his sharp teeth and scream. He jolts back, as if woken from a dream. His eyes are light green and wide; his mouth crimson with my blood “Oh god… FUCK… I am so sorry” he loosens his grip and I scramble from the bed, grabbing my heels and my purse. I am trembling and crying and running through the darkness. HOW is his home this dark?!? I reach the front door and hear him running down the staircase. “Please! I’m sorry! Let me explain!” My legs threaten to give way underneath me as I hesitate, part of me wanting to give him a chance. My neck hurts and I place pressure on it. I move my hand in front of me and gasp at the bloody mess on my fingertips. He reaches a hand towards me and I push my hips into the door with full force. It swings open and the sunlight bears down on his arm; I watch his pallid skin sizzle and smoke in the bright light. He screams in pain and falls backward and I run to my car. I pull the door open, fling my belongings into the passenger seat and lock the doors. My adrenaline still going, I drive fast towards the large ornate gates. I type in 666 and speed away from this nightmare, a flurry of tears raining across my steering wheel and my lap. I hear myself sobbing but I persevere until I am home. I rush into my flat, lock the door and fall to the floor; I cry and cry until I am empty. I step into the bathroom and observe the damage. Two puncture wounds on my neck. Just when I am sure I have no tears left, I begin to cry again. I cleanse the wound and flinch at the sting. I bandage myself up the best that I can, lie face down on my bed, and sob until I pass out.

1 note
·
View note
Text
4/4/23
Cultures in any working industries is stupid & ridiculous.
Everyone rushes & competes who can carry the boss’s balls the highest. Boss takes advantage of his position and literally behaves like the biggest asshole on this planet.
I just got FUCKED by the worst boss I’ve ever worked for and his work bitch, aka The Manager. They’re quite well known in the company as Clown 1 & Clown 2. All for an MC that I had received from a certified doctor as I was diagnosed with Influenza B, a contagious disease and somehow almost everyone in my timeline is getting it in Singapore now. New covid? I was still not well yet I wore my mask and dragged myself to work as I did not want my colleague to be on shift alone, KNOWING how that felt like. Only to be fucked as early as 0830 on a Sunday morning.
Could not wait till work ended? Oh that’s right - coming from “the boss” who works everyday where he comes in at 0800 and fuck any nurse who arrives later than him, has time for exercises in between consults, goes for a two hour break unbothered, goes of as early as 3 or sometimes earlier, complains and bitches when he has to do a procedure for the patients, find faults with nurses, beats the patients up, does surgery without sterilised gloves contaminating everything, sides with his entitled clients who lies to his nurses but comes up with bullshit stories for him and when nurses try to clarify and explain themselves, he takes it as talking back and will make your life hell.
Oh, & lets not forget the work bitch - comes in the latest among all the nurses, dont even bother helping anyone with any treatments in the morning, sits at the front every single shift and claim “as the manager I need eyes everywhere so being at the reception is where I need to be to know everything”, has no idea everyone at work hates her, make so much promises but delivers nothing, turn the nurses and doctors against one another, telling me “as the new manager you should not join in the bitching” but bitches the most, act like someone you can trust behind the boss’s back but immediately give a whole new charade in front of him, acts nothing like a leader, purely lazy, throws the phone to other nurses who are having their breaks when clearly she is supposed to be the one mending the phone as per a receptionist does, will literally talk shit non stop, extremely bias, bitched about a nurse and claiming she wants to terminate her just because this nurse’s mom is a kidney dialysis patient and needs to be sent for treatments, hits patients too, really not around as she is busy chain smoking her lungs out, also leaving work as soon as the boss goes home.
I swear to god, this company’s a J O K E. These two clowns tell clients their pets are safe with us. THEY ARENT, especially not with these two mother fuckers who really, I do not understand why the fuck are they in this industry. Patients are being left ALONE overnight but these two clowns will tell clients “there will always be a nurse to take care of your pet overnight”. NO, there IS NOT! Coming to 5 months, I have seen 4 patients DIE overnight as there was NO NURSE OR VET to take care of them. My heart breaks every single fucking day. I vowed never to work for a company that does this shit and fuck me I was just desperate and an idiot to think I could change this place for the better. These two mother fuckers are inhumane. I saw once the boss CHOKE a motherfucking corgi with the leash because he was fierce. I had it handled, I was already restraining the corgi and this piece of shit grabbed his leash and held him in the air. I had to yell to tell him to stop. That corgi was so afraid. I have seen this monster castrate a cat when the cat was not even down yet all because he was in a “hurry”. I cried and I prayed for the cat because I was useless, I was a nobody and that was all I could do, help the cat recover from such a traumatic experience.
I try my best every single day, to do what I do best and that is to save animal lives. Help them. Be their voice. Make them comfortable. Everything that happens in this clinic goes against everything I believed in.
On that unfateful morning, while getting yelled at by the two clowns, all that went through my head was what would happen if I were to snap? My boss told me “i paid you your full salary to do your job” and tell me clearly what the fuck have i been doing all these months then? Come in to work and open my fucking legs and sit on my ass all day? He told me “I cannot work with you anymore, you took more medical leave than I did through my career. Go find a company that will tolerate this and do not tell me I am unfair” That’s rich coming from someone who is so full of it? Like I wouldnt come to work every single day if I get to not work, pass my surgeries and procedures to my nurses and other vets, go for undisturbed breaks and leave before 4 everyday? And Ive been slogging for them and this was my very first long medical leave BECAUSE OF A VIRUS MIND YOU.
Then coming from the work bitch “You can kiss your manager post goodbye, there is no way I can handover this position to you, this is unacceptable” - well funny how this is coming from someone who is not even FIT to lead a team. Also, I have already mentally checked out the managerial post as I have bigger plans coming my way and that is to get the fuck out of this company ASAP.
All for a medical leave. They know it is illegal to terminate me as MOM will not allow it, so here they are making it unbearable for me.
Dont get me wrong, the other doctors and nurses are amazing. I am really close to them as I bothered to get to know them. I took the time to hear them. I try my best to be there for them or help them. I understood what they go through. No matter what happens outside work, I still come to work every time with a smile on my face and make it worthwhile for everyone. But these two pieces of shit - in it for other reasons. And I do not know, for the first time in my life, what to do next.
All I know is, they can try their very best to get me to quit on my own accord but too bad, I am a survivor. I have been through shits after shits to be who I am today. They want me gone, they’ll have to give me a payout. Funny how this bitch is telling me all these bullshits to put on a good show for him when she’s the one that confirmed me as a permanent staff on my second month and even increased my salary. All because of a medical leave that I was entitled too. Amazing right?
0 notes
Text
P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.
Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.
Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)
Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)
Word Count; 7.2k
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next
‘Wanna know what it's like (like)
Baby, show me what it's like (like)
I don't really got no type (type)
I just wanna fuck all night’
Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.
When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.
However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.
It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.
I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.
Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.
I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.
The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.
Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.
“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.
“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.
I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.
If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.
I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.
Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.
Leaving me with Spencer.
I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.
I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.
“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.”
He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.
My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-
“____?”
“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.
“Did you hear me?”
“No, sorry.”
“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.
I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.
“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.
“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”
“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.
-----
“I cannot go back in there.”
“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.
Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.
“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.
“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”
I fake laughed, ignoring her question.
Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.
But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.
The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.
About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.
I started noticing more little things after that.
Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.
He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.
It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.
My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.
‘I just been fantasizin' (size)
And we got a lotta time (time)
Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’
Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.
“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.
“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.
“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.
“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”
“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”
No objection from Emily or JJ there.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.
“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”
“You’re both adults, ____.”
“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”
“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”
“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”
“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”
I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”
Even though I definitely wanted to.
They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.
After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.
“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.
“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”
“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”
“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.
Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.
He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.
His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.
“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.
He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.
Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.
The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?
The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.
I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.
I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.
Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.
The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.
And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.
Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.
It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.
I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.
“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”
I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.
He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,
I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.
It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.
A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.
It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.
“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.
“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.
I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.
“Do you not like it?”
“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”
“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”
“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.
People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.
I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.
They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?
It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.
I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.
When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.
It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.
“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.
“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.
Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.
“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.
“It hurts!”
“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”
I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.
“You’re going to need to hold me down.”
“What?!”
“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”
He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.
Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.
I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.
Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.
“Get on my back.”
“Are you insane?”
“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”
Right.
“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”
He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.
‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby
Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’
I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.
He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…
“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.
His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.
It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.
I was an awful person.
Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.
I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.
Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.
‘Wanna know what it's like (like)
Baby, show me what it's like (like)
I don't really got no type (type)
I just wanna fuck all night’
“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.
“____-”
“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”
I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.
Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.
“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”
The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.
“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”
“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.
I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.
“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”
“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”
Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.
I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.
I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.
However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.
“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.
“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.
“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”
“How I feel?”
“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.
“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.
“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”
“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”
She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.
“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”
“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.
“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”
“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”
“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”
“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”
I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.
But that just made it all the more exciting.
“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.
“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.
My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.
My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.
The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.
“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.
I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.
“Says who?” I panicked.
“Uhh...Hotch did.”
Great.
“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.
I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.
When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.
“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.
“I…”
“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.
He didn’t find any.
“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”
My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.
“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”
“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.
“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”
I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.
“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”
“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”
He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.
“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.
“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”
He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.
After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.
“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.
He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.
“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”
“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.
“L-lots of stuff.”
“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”
I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.
“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”
‘You're exciting, boy, come find me
Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’
“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.
He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.
He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.
‘And we got a lotta time (time)
Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’
I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.
“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.
“Do you not want me to?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.
“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.
“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.
“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”
His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”
“What?”
I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.
“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.
He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.
“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.
“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.
He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.
“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”
“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,
It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.
“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”
“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.
I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.
Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.
I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.
“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.
I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.
“Stop, stop!”
“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.
“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”
Understandable.
I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.
“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”
He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.
“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”
‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)
Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’
He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.
I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.
“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”
“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”
He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.
“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.
“Uh-huh.”
He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.
“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”
“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.
“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.
He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.
“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”
“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.
“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”
I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.
“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.
“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.
“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.
He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.
“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.
I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.
“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”
He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.
He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.
The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.
“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.
He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.
I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.
“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”
“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”
He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.
He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.
It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.
We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.
“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.
“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”
“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.
“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”
“____,” he blushed. “I-”
“No! No, let me finish. Please.”
He nodded for me to go ahead.
“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”
“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.
“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”
“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.
“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”
-----
Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here! You can also send me an ask to be added to/removed from the taglist.
permanent taglist; @pervhotch @spenxerslut @donald4spiderman @measure-in-pain @thatonezesty13 (check your visibility settings!) @jswessie187 @kuolonsyoja @idonotexiste
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader smut#sub spencer reid#virgin spencer reid#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#mgg#matthew gray gubler#gublernation#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
426 notes
·
View notes
Text
amortentia
↳year six potions class was never particularly exciting to you- as a Slytherin with much more interest in Transfiguration- but alas, it’s required to graduate. You thought the class couldn’t be any more of an inconvenience, but upon being paired with infamous Gryffindor Beomgyu, you find yourself proven wrong.
➤ gryffindor!beomgyu xslytherin!reader, harry potter!au, enemies to lovers, a little slow burn, fluff
Word Count: ~11k
Requested?: kinda? anon requested a Beomgyu oneshot with no specifics and I spit this out of some depraved, Harry Potter obsessed corner of my mind.
Warnings: mentions of drinking, usual e2l arguments, swearing, usual Gryffindor-Slytherin insults and tension
A/N: I hope the anon who asked for a Beomgyu oneshot is happy with this!! I finally felt like I had enough time to write a proper hogwarts au so here it is! Also I purposely avoided using any professor names that are clearly linked with the actual Harry Potter series purely because of timeline continuity! Bonus points if you can guess who Georgiana is related to before I point it out :) ALSO this is so long and I feel so rusty so I hope it’s okay lmao
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•
The sound of your quill scratching against parchment filled your quiet corner of the common room, allowing you a feeling of solidarity and peace you’d been craving since you arrived back to the castle a few days ago. Of course you’d been excited to be back, sharing the meal in the Great Hall with all of your friends happily as you watched the wide-eyed first years get sorted into their houses. It was hard to believe that 6 years ago that had been you waiting to find your place within the walls of Hogwarts.
As always, the buzz of the beginning of a new year wore on your nerves. Despite your love for your friends, their energy was- in your opinion- completely draining. You much preferred the moments of quiet serenity that the stone laden dungeon common room afforded you. The last few embers of a fire lit hours before winked at you from across the room, tempting you to raise your wand and reignite them. After a moment you decided against the movement, as you were presumably the only one awake at this hour and the light of the cedar scented candle you’d brought down with you from your suitcase provided enough light for you anyway.
The scratch of your quill stilled as you flipped to the next page, careful not to accidentally bend the corners of the book you’d just purchased. Several detailed diagrams detailed the process of transfiguring plants to inanimate objects to animals then back to plants and you felt your heart swell with excitement. Transfiguration was hands down your favorite subject, and you’d been craving to learn this process in particular since it had been mentioned offhandedly in class last year. You scrambled to pick up your quill, happy that you’d splurged for the instantly refilling model as ink flowed flawlessly against the parchment.
A sudden crash from the entrance of the common room popped your comfortable bubble of silence harshly as you clambered for your wand.
“Who’s there?” You yelled, annoyance and surprise mixing to raise your voice considerably. For a moment you heard nothing as you advanced closer to the door, keeping the three wide stone steps between you and who- or what- ever was behind the door. The door shook a few times before finally flying open, revealing three very normal looking boys stumbling through the threshold. They were all hanging on one another, stumbling over their feet as they pushed into the common room. You recognized the one in the middle instantly as Choi Yeonjun, fellow Slytherin and current Head Boy of the house. He was a year older than you but you knew him well for his infectious laughter and notoriously good grades despite never studying. His cheeks were flushed and his feet unsteady, but he held a charming grin through it all. The identity of whoever was supporting him on the left was a mystery to you, but the boy supporting him from the right sent alarm bells off in your head.
“Beomgyu?” Your voice left you before you could rein yourself in, and you would have cringed had it not been for the hatred brewing under your skin. Here he was, the one person you tried to forget existed every single summer. And he had been part of the ruckus that pulled you from your reading. He didn’t say anything as the three boys stumbled past you, dumping Yeonjun onto one of the soft black leather sofas.
“Hello?” You felt like you were in some kind of time warp, somehow totally invisible to the three of them as they sorted themselves out; Beomgyu and the other boy straightening out their clothing and Yeonjun lolling his head back on the cushions with a content sigh.
“Oh, hey Y/N.” Beomgyu finally drawled, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. He was still wearing his robes, layered over a sensible gray wool sweater and black uniform slacks. His striped red and gold tie hung off of his neck slightly, obviously having been loosened at some point in the night. He donned the same Head Boy pin Yeonjun did, but in the same colorway as his robes and tie. Loud, obnoxious, attention seeking red and gold.
“Hey? How about instead of “hey” you tell me why the hell you’re barging into my common room at some ungodly hour of the night! Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Head Boy?” The unidentified boy behind him froze as his eyes widened, apparently feeling the sting of your icy words much more than Beomgyu. He just lifted a lazy eyebrow, guiding his annoyingly confident gaze over your body. Fucking Gryffindors and their confidence. It was suffocating.
“Well you see, Y/N. Yeonjun here can’t handle his fire whiskey for shit, and we were all just having a little start of the year party in the Room of Requirement. So me and my friend here,” he motioned vaguely to the cowering boy behind him- who you now noticed looked like he had just entered his fourth year- “decided to be so kind as to bring him back.”
You said nothing for a moment; simply simmering in your hatred for him until he spoke again.
“By the way, what are you even doing up so late? You’re not a prefect...so shouldn’t you be up in bed like the rest of your little friends? What’s so secretive that you have to be up in the middle of the night for it? Are you doing something...evil?” He leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you and bringing his mouth level with your ear. You cringed at the closeness, clenching your hands into fists until the crescents of your nails indented your skin. His voice had lowered like he was telling a secret, as if Gryffindors even had the capacity for maintaining privacy. “Are you being naughty?”
You huffed indignantly, finally finding the strength to shove his shoulder away harshly. The skin of your cheeks was certainly flamed, but you hoped he would chalk it up to annoyance and not the intoxicating scent of his woody cologne.
“If you must know, I was up studying Transfiguration. I was trying to enjoy some piece and quiet until you came busting in.”
Beomgyu stepped around you and made his way for the table you’d previously been sitting at. To your delight he refrained from touching anything, but he stared at the set up for so excruciatingly long that the mystery boy awkwardly slipped out of the dungeon without a word.
“We start classes in about 5 hours,” he suddenly remarked. His voice made you jump a bit, since you’d become used to the regained quiet. “Why the hell are you already studying? And a subject we’ve all already taken? Any other Transfiguration courses would just be electives, and with how much you care for your class standing I would have assumed you’d be learning ahead on Potions.”
“Well first of all, I’m not exactly studying. I’m just reading. I bought the book myself because I-” you stopped and heaved a sigh at the scrunch of his eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t understanding the concept of reading just for the fun of it. “I’m not studying for Potions because I despite it. Plus, how much is there to study? The book literally spells out every ingredient and procedure. There’s no thinking to be done, and hardly any magic.” Beomgyu’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline comically.
“Hardly any magic? My god, maybe I was right to peg you as the pessimistic type. Must be hard to feel anything akin to hope down here in your-” he glanced around your common room again, eyes catching on the darkened green and black decorations, the window offering a view of the sparkling Black Lake shrouded with pine trees. “In your dungeon.”
His use of the word bothered you greatly. Even though you knew it was geographically true and had even used it yourself; something about him coming in unannounced and uninvited to insult your home inspired fresh anger in your stomach.
“Get out,” you spat, ignoring the way a half-dozed Yeonjun jumped at your voice. With all your might you pushed at Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, willing him out of your sight for at least a few more hours.
“Oof, must have hit a nerve there, huh?” He continued to speak casually as you pushed him, walking backwards up the steps with an annoyingly perfect accuracy. Once he was finally stood in the threshold of the heavy door you heaved a sigh of relief as you swing it closed.
“Bye bye! Don’t ever fucking come back!”
——
You only managed about two hours of sleep after the Beomgyu drama, but luckily for you the three other sixth year girls you were rooming with had been smart enough to buy and stash away some caffeine potions. They had none of the enjoyable taste of coffee but three times the effect, and soon you felt back in top shape to head to class.
Pushing through the masses of clambering students with a practice eased, you caught up to the familiar frame of Georgiana, one of your oldest friends. She was a Ravenclaw, but you’d ridden together on your very first trip on the Hogwarts Express and stayed close friends since then. She greeted you easily, giving you an award winning smile as she pulled you by the arm of the robes to sit on one of the surprisingly empty stone benches lining the halls.
“Let me see your schedule!” She had to yell just to be heard over the mumbling of the crowd, but you heard her well enough to produce a folded piece of parchment that you carried despite having memorized it. Georgiana’s eyes flitted over it carefully, comparing it to her own schedule which laid open on her lap.
“We’ve got...Herbology 3,” she ran her finger down the parchments a few more inches, “Transfiguration of Aquatics...and NEWT prep together!” You groaned loudly, a feeling of anxiety weighing down your bones as you rubbed your fingertips into your temples.
“What’s up with you? Over me already?” She giggled, leaning back against the wall and handing you back your schedule.
“No, it’s just...if you’re the second class for Herb 3, Aquatics and NEWT prep, that means I have to pray that the second house in Potions isn’t Gryffindor.” You leaned back against the cool wall next to her, pouting in self pity until you saw the grim look on her face.
“What?” You sat up straight again as if a fire had been lit under your ass. Georgiana looked as if she was holding in a laugh and a grimace at the same time while you begged her to give up whatever information she was holding back from you. Her hand hovered over her mouth in an attempt to hide the wavering smirk running across her lips.
“Okay, don’t freak out.” She began, placing a hand on your knee.
“Well now I’m definitely going to since you lead with don’t freak out! Should I freak out? What about?”
“I already compared schedules with Soobin,” she said gently.
“Okay, and?” You knew of the sweet Hufflepuff, had sat next to him in a few classes and seen him hanging out with Yeonjun on occasion, but still had no idea why she was bringing him up now.
“And him and I have Potions together.” In the split second it took for the words to process you saw her flinch, clutching at the fabric of her robes over her chest in anticipation for your angry outburst.
“Of course! Of course I have to get stuck with them for Potions class, out of all the other houses. Merlin really has it out for lately you know, I didn’t sleep very much last night, had to pay Melinda 10 galleons for one of her caffeine potions-“
“I can tell,” Georgiana supplied. You grimaced at her and immediately shut your mouth, sensing your rapid talking was quickly becoming over the top.
“Georgie, if I have Potions with him-“ you didn’t even have to specify who you were speaking of before she was rolling her green eyes into her head.
“If you have Potions with Beomgyu, you just need to ignore him. He loves to push your buttons, Y/N. When will you realize that? And you push his back and you both get a good cat-and-mouse feeling that every teenager wants. Maybe if you stop entertaining it, he’ll take it easy on you. Need I remind you of the time you were actually friends with him? Didn’t swear he was the spawn of Satan after every conversation? I even remember in second year when you had a crush on him and made me-“
“Okay!” You replied curtly, gathering your books and parchment back into your arms. “I’m going now! Class starts in,” you pulled back your robe sleeve to look at a watch that clearly was not there, “10 minutes, and I like to be early!” Easily, you slipped into the throngs of students, leaving Georgiana behind with a sly grin on her face.
——
You arrived to the Potions room before any other student, forcing you to idle awkwardly in the small space between the door and the first brewing station. A few of the cauldrons bubbled idly, breaking up the silence of the room with the low hum of white noise. The arched ceilings only amplified the absence of noise- even the never ending buzz of students passing through the hallways was somehow muffled to silence inside the walls.
“Ah!” The professor bellowed, waving at you from the opposite end of the room where he had been straightening out some piles of parchment that you could only assume were homework papers. “Hello there, you must be quite eager to start the day!” You could feel the skin of the back of your neck heating up as the rotund man approached you gleefully.
“Oh, um, yes sir. You could say that...” you mumbled, clutching your stack of books to your chest protectively. The man smiled at you kindly but you could still feel the heavy weight of awkwardness seeping into your bones. He opened his mouth again- making another attempt at small talk to which you cringed. As much as you respected the professor on the basis of his knowledge, your ability for any small talk, especially Potions related, was extremely lacking.
“You must’ve done quite well on your OWLS to be here, yes? Only those with the highest scores can be registered. The class can be quite challenging, but if you’ve got your affairs in order I reckon you’ll fine.” He paused, likely sensing the blankness behind your stare as you nodded politely. “Ah, all things you already know I’m sure. Are you excited to get started with the class?”
You frowned, holding back your natural instinct for brutal honesty. How on earth could you let this gentle old man down gently?
“Of course she’s excited! Aren’t we all?” Beomgyu was in the room now, apparently, approaching you from behind and slinging an arm around your shoulders. The loose fabric of his sleeve collided with the side of your face, blinding you for a second. You stumbled on your feet from the jostle, trying to shrug away from the warmth and overwhelming scent of his cologne. Beomgyu never was aware of his own strength as he held you steadily against his side as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together.
“Oh my! So nice to see such great friends between different houses! Back in my day, as I’m sure you know, there was so much hatred between Gryffindors and Slytherins...never would have seen a pair of friends like the two of you!” The professor seemed genuinely delighted, oblivious to the way you tried to wiggle out of Beomgyu’s hold. You offered the professor a plastic smile as more students filed in. As soon as the portly man was otherwise occupied, you stomped the heel of your sneaker into Beomgyu’s foot with all the might you could gather.
“Merlin, ouch!” He recoiled immediately, withdrawing his arm from around your frame to clutch at the foot you’d hopefully bruised. “I’ve got Quidditch practice after lunch today! How dare you!”
“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need your feet for Quidditch, Choi. Serves you right for violating my personal space. Next time it’ll be worse than your fucking toes.” You hissed the words lowly, just enough that he would be able to hear them but without alerting your nearby classmates.
“You two, there!” The professor suddenly exclaimed, making you jump out of your stupor to see he was pointed an aged finger at you and Beomgyu. “Since you were first in and seem to get along, I’ll have you be partners on Station 1.” A few confused whispers passed through the classmates behind you and your face fell at the implication. Potions partners with Beomgyu? For the whole year?
He seemed similarly stalled, not moving a single inch away from the front of the room until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.
“Right, sir, of course,” Beomgyu nodded, rushing over to the furthest of the high-top tables; unsuccessfully trying to hide the pain of his newfound limp. With a satisfied feeling in your chest you followed closely behind, finally unloading the weight of the books in your arms onto the table.
——
“How much worse could it get?” You groaned, laying your head in your arms at the dining table.
“Well, you could be sick, or failing a class, or not have any friends, or have lost your books. Hell, let’s not forget what it must have been like to go to school here at the same time as Harry Potter. I mean, no final exams for a few years, but at what cost? Grandpa Ron always tells me about-”
“Oh, good Merlin, Georgie, that’s not what I meant.” You picked your head up from the table and scanned the bustling hall. A large plate of sandwiches laid in front of you but your appetite was diminished in the presence of your stress. “I mean, how fucked is it that I have to spend every first period for the rest of the year brewing Potions alongside Choi? It’s bad enough that I hate Potions already, and now I’ll have to deal with his stupid, righteous, Slytherin-slandering ass!” You slammed your hand into the wooden table, shaking the plates and glasses near you under the force.
“Careful there,” Georgiana scolded around a mouthful of bread. “Just keep your head down, don’t react to him like you always do,” she paused to gulp down a sip of pumpkin juice, “he’ll give up eventually.” You heaved a heavy sigh, propping your chin onto the palm of your hand and scanning the Great Hall. Masses of students bustled around, sharing meals and laughing or gathering over homework problems. You weren’t quite sure who or what you were looking for, but all you found was a rowdy group of forth year boys sitting atop one of the tables, casting small hexes at one another and their lunches. You rolled your eyes at their antics before resigning to picking at the few fries on your plate.
“And if he doesn’t?” You mumbled, casting a pointed glare at a seemingly distracted Georgiana. It took her a second to shift her gaze back to your face, clearing her throat as she narrowed her eyes towards you.
“Sorry?” She asked, pulling a section of crust off of the third sandwich she’d picked up off of the platter.
“If he doesn’t give up? What am I supposed to do then?” The thought of living out the next two school years with Choi Beomgyu as a constant annoyance settled a pit of rage in your stomach. Georgiana was quiet for a moment, flicking a few locks of curled, fiery hair over her shoulder.
“Then you get back at him.” She shrugged. “You know you get a discount at the joke shop. Just go down there and pick up some puking pastilles or something.” She looked up again suddenly, eyes shimmering and focused intently on something behind you. Out of curiosity you turned on the spot, wondering if there was something of interest outside of the window, only to be met with the sight of Soobin standing mere feet away, hand stalled mid-wave. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the Hufflepuff was staring intently at your best friend, and she was happily returning the sentiment with a goofy grin on her face. You whipped back around to face her, leaning across the table as if the action would provide any secrecy with him so close.
“Are you and Soobin...” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she swatted at your shoulder. Her cheeks blushed rosy as she whispered back, “He asked me if I’d want to hang out when we go to Hogsmeade this weekend.” Her voice shook as she spoke but you frowned instantly. Of course you were happy that he had finally manned up and the two of them were on the way to something akin to a date, but...
“First weekend Hogsmeade is our tradition!” You shouted, abandoning any secrecy you might have thought you’d maintained from Soobin.
“Y/N, please!” Georgiana hissed, glancing up at Soobin with an apologetic smile. “Just once. You can still come along, maybe you can bring someone too?” She offered, trying to placate your irritation. Her eyes continued sliding between you and Soobin as she waited for your response. You sank back onto the bench quietly, arms crossed over your chest.
“Fine.” You sighed. “I guess I can try to think of someone.” Georgiana’s face lit up as she stood from her seat and gathered her books back under her arm. She rounded the end of the table quickly, meeting up with Soobin just behind you. “Don’t think I’m not still irritated, Weasley!” You yelled after her even though she had turned her back to you. She stalled in her lockstep next to Soobin just long enough to turn her head and throw you a middle finger.
——
The day of your Hogsmeade visit came quicker than you anticipated, and of course you’d failed to find someone to fill the empty spot that would prevent you from third wheeling. Everyone you asked had either been otherwise busy, sick, or already going into Hogsmeade with other friends.
Georgiana, being the wonderful friend she was, made sure that you hadn’t felt left out on the walk into the village. Soobin was surprisingly good at keeping conversation despite his shy appearance, and the three of you had managed to share lunch and a few Butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks before Georgiana began giving you pointed glances. It took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize what her hand signals and mouthed words were conveying, but once you did you had excused yourself to wander the shops alone in a bid to give the lovebirds some privacy.
The weather was surprisingly pleasant, and as such the streets were lined with witches and wizards of all ages. Large throngs of students and families passed you by, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a fish swimming upstream as everyone pushed by. When you’d first stepped out you felt odd walking the cobbled street alone, considering you’d never made a solo trip to Hogsmeade for as long as you’d lived. Something about it was quite relaxing, though, as you realized you could enter any store and stay for any amount of time.
Once you’d wrestled your way through another group of oncoming students, you spotted an endearing baby blue storefront with deserts on display in the window. Many of them appeared to be muggle creations, and your mouth watered as you caught sight of a tray of fudgy brownies with a thick layer of chocolate icing. Your eyes had always been bigger than your stomach; so despite the fact that you’d just had lunch you find yourself stepping into the sweet smelling shop. An expansion charm helped stretch the store far beyond its dainty storefront, and you were met with the sight of even more display cases and tiered plates full of sweets.
A few other wizards mulled around the store, debating which treats to pick up and pack into the little green pastry boxes which were stacked at the entrance in a never ending supply. You balanced one of your own between your hands as you gathered up treats, sure to grab three of the very brownies that had brought you in to begin with. You packed in a few cookies that you found on a shelf near the back of the store and began to weigh your options between purchasing what appeared to be a type of muggle cake with specs of color floating about the white batter or a more familiar looking pumpkin pastry dusted with powdered sugar. You contemplated the two deserts for an amount of time that would have been embarrassing if you were in the presence of company.
“Wrackspurts on the brain?” A rush of hot breath inches away from the shell of your ear had you reeling, clutching your box of precious deserts to your chest. Of course you’d immediately identified the voice; you were just hoping that you were wrong as you shot daggers into the boy who’d spooked you. Beomgyu looked beyond pleased with himself: a hand cocked on his hip, fake glasses perched at the very end of his nose to perfectly top off the outfit he’d chosen. His robes hung open, one shoulder almost devoid of the fabric as it drooped onto his back. The maroon turtleneck he wore struck a perfect contrast with the golden undertones of his skin and matched impressively well to the emblem on his robes. He had tucked the turtleneck into the waistband of a pair of light wash jeans that made it hard not to marvel at the shape of his waist. The scent of his cologne was faint, overpowered by the sweetness of the shop, but you were picking up overwhelming scents of-
“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He scrunched his nose as he studied you, waving gingerly like you would have at a child.
“Oh! Uh, I’m here, I’m here. What the hell do you want anyway?” You turned your attention back to the two pastries you’d been considering before his sneak attack in an attempt to keep yourself from looking back at his form.
“What’re you doing here alone? Out of friends? Did ya bore them all to death?” He had rounded to the opposite side of the table, forcing you to look at him straight on.
“I walked into Hogsmeade with Georgiana and Soobin, if you must know. They wanted some time alone so here I am.” You glanced up again to see him leaning casually against the table with one arm bracing his weight.
“I just have to point out that you’re also alone, Beomgyu. So I’m not quite sure why so keen on bashing me.” Your eyes skate over the deserts one final time before you decisively package up a slice of the muggle cake. The urge to celebrate the small victory was squashed by Beomgyu’s scoff.
“I’m here alone because I chose to be, not because my best friend is on a date and didn’t want a chaperone. Don’t you find that a little embarrassing?”
To be honest, you hadn’t considered it that way. You knew that finding a person to keep you from third wheeling had been your responsibility. But maybe he had a point. Although he was a constant nagging force, Beomgyu was insightful and intelligent. He’d helped you in class many times back when you were friends. Nervously, you nibbled at your bottom lip and considered his words carefully. Did Georgiana find your presence today embarrassing? She was surely too nice to tell you so, and there was no denying the tension in her face while she waited for you to leave The Three Broomsticks earlier. Your normally stoic face must have betrayed you, conveying that you were starting to feel hurt at the words that suddenly seemed to make so much sense.
“I was joking,” Beomgyu spoke up suddenly, rounding the table to once again be next to you. “Don’t take everything I say so seriously, Y/N. I’m beginning to worry for your sense of humor.” He picked up a couple of cookies with careful dexterity and settled them into the palm of his hand.
“Of course,” you concluded bitterly, taking a step back in a bid to get to the counter and buy your treats. “Must be my broken sense of humor and not just the fact that you’re an ass.” His face twisted unpleasantly as you stepped further away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but you were already pivoting on the balls of your feet to make your way toward the front of the shop.
——
The evidence of the first frost of the season crunched underneath your feet as you hurried to class. As someone who prided themselves on showing up on time for classes every day, you were particularly embarrassed to have woken up with just twenty minutes to spare before the beginning of potions. There was no excuse, either. You had simply stayed up too late studying for the NEWT practice exam and forgot to set your alarm before lying down.
To make matters worse you’d greatly underdressed yourself, underestimating the absolute chill of the morning when you had peeled out from the window. Only now, as you found yourself feet away from the classroom did you feel the icy temperature begin to bite into your exposed skin. Your cheeks were numb with cold, and your hands shook as you pushed them under your arms for some amount of warmth. Luckily the classroom was warmer when you finally got to it. Guiltily, you grinned at your professor as he notably marked your attendance onto the scroll of parchment.
“Rough night?” Beomgyu asked under his breath as the professor launched into the lesson for the day. You kept your back turned to the boy in favor of writing down the list of ingredients that was being provided to you. A firm poke in the middle of your back had you turning on your stool, already silently fuming as you came face to face with Beomgyu.
“What?” You mouthed, trying your best not to alert your professor that neither of you were paying attention to him.
“You look awful,” he mouthed back, pulling the most exaggerated gagging expression you’d ever seen in your life. Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to grab him by his necktie and slap him across his annoyingly perfect face. Instead you threw up your middle finger boldly, practicing a muggle tradition that wizards had become quite fond of. Beomgyu feigned shock, laying a hand over his heart and pretending to faint right there at his stool.
“-so you’ll be using this combination of potions for the group project, due in one weeks time.” Your professor concluded. Wide eyed, you spun back around on your stool only to see the words previously written on the board disappear with a flick of his wand. A group project? Potions, plural? You’d only taken notes on one mixture, and you were sure that Beomgyu hadn’t taken any notes at all. Although maybe the group project wasn’t among your table mate? Your heart fluttered as you prayed for that to be the reality, scanning your classmates to see if anyone got up to switch seats or combine tables.
Not a single soul moved.
“Guess it’s just us.” Beomgyu drawled from behind you.
“Did you take any notes?” You asked, fear running through your veins. If both of you were clueless, you’d have to ask the professor to explain everything to you again, which would only implicate the two of you for not paying attention to begin with.
Beomgyu shook his head and shrugged much too casually for a student who was in the dark about an entire project.
“I’ll just ask someone. Hey, Art-”
“No!” You scrambled for a rolled piece of parchment to hit him on the arm with before he could finish his shout across the classroom. “Please, do not scream across the room that we don’t know what we’re doing.” Your cheeks were flaming, anxiety and exhaustion building to a dangerous level in your bloodstream.
“Awe, are you ashamed to admit you were too busy talking to me to pay attention?” Beomgyu cooed, cradling his chin in his palms.
“No. I’m embarrassed that we’re the only ones not starting the work,” you glanced pointedly to all of the other tables where your classmates were hard at work on...something. Every table housed a slowly bubbling cauldron producing a steady stream of light grey smoke. The cauldron resting on the table between the two of you was alarmingly quiet, your stores of provided potion ingredients remaining untouched.
“Alright, Y/N. How about right now we work on the one you wrote down,” he points a finger at the parchment containing the list of notes you managed to take, “and I’ll talk to someone about the rest. Since you’re too proud to ask for help.” Without waiting for you to process the words he gripped the parchment between his fingers and pulled it toward the middle of the table. He mumbled a simple aguamenti under his breath and the cauldron filled with the perfect level of water. He then scrutinized the words for just a moment before he began to collect ingredients with a practiced ease, barely even glancing at the labels of the hefty glass containers. You’d never seen him quite as focused in a class as he was at the moment, his nimble fingers uncapping lids and measuring precise amounts of lacewing flies with a delicacy you never would have expected to come from the hands of Gryffindor’s star Beater.
One after the other, ingredients fell into the wrought iron cauldron, changing the color of the mixture from clear to an odd, murky green. You scrunched your nose in distaste but Beomgyu was nodding to himself in satisfaction, his fluffy hair bouncing back off of his forehead.
“Stop staring and start taking notes, Y/N.” His voice was casual but his lips were twisted in a smirk as you scrambled for both an excuse and a fresh roll of parchment.
“I wasn’t,” you defended as you begin to scribble out notes against the parchment, refusing to meet his eyes as the shame of being caught red-handed crawled up the back of your throat and stung behind your eyes. He simply hummed in acknowledgment and tossed in a few leaves of a plant you didn’t have time to identify into the bubbling mixture.
——
Impatiently, you tapped your foot against the stone floor. It echoed a sound that would have been satisfying in its consistency if it weren’t for the annoyance running through your veins. Beomgyu had promised to meet you in the west corner of the library today, at a prompt 7pm, in order to finish synthesizing your plan for the Potions project. You checked the clock on the wall again just in case you had somehow misread the hands only to find them confirming your suspicions. Beomgyu was blowing you off. He had suggested the time and place himself, and yet he couldn’t even have the decency to show up.
Anger blossomed in your chest as you stood to gather the things you’d brought along. Your chair scraped on the floor and attracted the stares of a few other students put you paid them no mind as you swore under your breath.
Of course Beomgyu had stood you up in the face of an important project. He was probably laughing away to his friends in the common room, boasting about how he’d left you sitting in the library like a fool. Once again he had proven himself to be an utterly useless and annoying human being that you wished you had never even met. Your teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your bottom lip so hard that blood pooled on your tongue, the bitter tang snapping you into action. The route to the Gryffindor common room was a familiar one, and the hatred brimming inside of you made your legs move even faster than usual, swearing under your breath as you finally came face to face with the portrait keeping you from entering the room.
“I don’t have time for any password- please just let me in. I’m looking for someone.” Your words came rushed, obviously annoyed as you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Now, you know that isn’t how this works, dear,” the painting asserted, crossing their arms to mimic your own stubborn pose. “I can’t let just anyone into the room. I’ve got,” the portraited stopped dead in its tracks and began counting on its fingers silently. “I’ve got 30 students inside right now, and it’s my job to protect them.” Your fists clenched at your sides over the stubborn portrait, fingers itching to grab your wand and level a badgering curse against the damned painting. It must have read the anger on your face as you fiddled with the fabric of your robes, as it’s booming voice came again;
“Tell me who you’re seeking, and I can tell you if I’ve seen them!” With your fingers still curled around your wand, it took a fair deal of restraint to leave it in your robe pocket. After a deep, steadying breath, you looked back up at the portrait. A beat of silence passed before you slathered on a sweet smile, clearing your throat to quell any remnants of your frustrated growl.
“I’m looking for Choi Beomgyu.”
The portrait took a moment to contemplate your words, squeezing its eyes tightly and tapping its fingers as you assumed it searched the students inside the Gryffindor common room and dorms.
“He’s not here.” It finally concluded, snapping its eyes back open to peer down at you again. Frustration flamed your skin red all the way to your hairline. Hogwarts and it’s grounds were extensive, and searching for him would surely take up your entire night.
“I did happen to see out Quidditch players heading down to the pitch around 5 o’clock, though.” Not needing any further ceremony, you turned on your heels and made your way toward the exit of the castle. The corridors were fairly empty, and the few students still milling around were quick to step out of your way as you hurried through them, robes flowing out behind you. Silently you thanked your lucky stars that no professors had been around to inquire about why you were rushing out of the castle in such a haste.
As soon as you set foot outside, you regretted not stopping by your dorm first to grab your coat and scarf. It had been three days since you woke up to the first frost, and the temperature had only continued to drop into frigid numbers. Even in the limited light provided by the setting sun you could see your breath fogging ahead of you. Cold air curled around your body, seeming to seep underneath your skin with a harsh ferocity. For now you simply tucked your hands deeper into the fabric of your robes, hoping that the heat of them in conjunction with your brisk pace would keep your body warm enough.
The walk to the Quidditch pitch was deceptively far when you traveled alone. Normally you were so distracted by conversation with your friends and the last minute bets between houses that you didn’t have time to mull over how many steps it took you to arrive at the stands; but today you were nothing short of pissed at how far away the compound had been built. Every step you took sent a shock of cold through your feet, your toes completely numb no matter how much you wiggled them inside your sneakers. The trees shuddered with you as you passed them, leaves spiraling to the ground as they finally give in to the pressure of the cold and resign themselves.
Finally you passed through the solid wood of the viewing stands, coming face to face with the expanse of the pitch in front of you. Totally empty. Not a single soul was to be found warming up on the grass or running practice games in the air. Upon listening, you couldn’t even hear any distant chatter that would indicate the team being huddled into the locker room.
“Shit!” A new wave of frustration crashed through your mind. Had you passed them on the way over? It was plausible that they had taken a different route back to the castle and your whole trip had been in vain. Exhausted, you leaned against the wall and listened to the whip of the banners against their metal poles, the clinking of their bindings matching with the steady, loud beat of your pulse. Just as you were about to turn and head back for the castle in your freezing shame, you heard another sound. This one was different, less uniform, almost like a grunt of exhaustion followed by a heavy thud. Your freezing feet moved almost without you to follow the noise. A vicious wind whipped your hair, mussing it up so badly that you had to stop in your tracks to gather it all back into place. You hazarded every step you took, unsure exactly where the source of the noise was coming from other than somewhere behind the stands. On your next step you heard the noise again, much closer this time, and the excitement of being close to solving this mystery had your footsteps speeding up.
Just as you rounded the curving stands, you spotted the culprit, still a little hard to make out due to the distance you had yet to cover, but the colors and shape of a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform were clear. Upon further inspection, it became obvious that the heavy thud you’d been hearing was a the heavy iron Bludger cracking against the magically reinforced bat. There were only two Beaters on the team, and one of them was the very man who’d forced you to walk into the frigid night. You continued your steady approach to the figure, morbidly curious over who it was that was out here pushing themselves to practice alone in the freezing cold.
“Hey!” You yelled as you edged closer, hoping to give whoever it may be a fair warning that you were approaching. Within three feet of the body, there was no mistaking it to be Beomgyu.
“Choi!” You raged, yelling much louder than required for him to hear you. The Bludger was sailing far away from the two of you with a strong hit as you closed the distance almost all the way. “I know you can hear me, asshat.” Beomgyu kept his eyes on the iron ball, effectively ignoring your words. In disbelief you glanced back and forth between his face-seeing the way his eyes narrowed in concentration as the Bludger came closer by the second.
“Is this where you’ve been all night? Playing Quidditch while you were supposed to meet me in the library?” A strong gust of wind knocked the air out of you, shivers running down your spine as you waited for any response from the boy. The Bludger came whistling back toward the two of you, and in the split second you had the foresight to step back he had tensed his shoulders, gripped the end of his bat and took another strong and precise hit against the Bludger, sending it even further away than the last one.
“Lost track of time.” He supplied absentmindedly, turning his head to regard you with lazy eyes.
“What?” You seethed, stepping forward again, placing yourself in front of his frame in hopes of appearing somewhat intimidating. “You lost track of time? Let’s talk about the fact that out project is due in four fucking days, and all we have to show is a single god damn Potion. This was your responsibility,” you pushed your pointed finger into the front of his uniform, the fabric giving way to allow you to feel the firmness of his chest underneath. “I trusted you with the single task of making sure that we could figure out the rest of this project, and you fucked up!” Tears of frustration rimmed your eyes as the worry of failure overwhelmed you. As much as you hated Potions, you’d be damned if Choi Beomgyu became the reason you do poorly.
“Listen, I seriously did just forget,” he pushed at your shoulders forcefully, to which you planted your feet into the ground harder. “Seriously, Y/N, I forgot! Now move!”
“No! You are not,” you grabbed at his forearm and pulled it off of your shoulder, “going to blow me off again! We are going to work on this project right now, even if its the last thing I do!”
“It’s about to be if you don’t fucking move!” He yelled, finally managing to uproot your feet and push you off to the side with so much force that you landed flat on your ass, the cold hardness of the ground knocking the breath out of your lungs. From the ground, you watched helplessly while Beomgyu scrambled to grab his bat in time to hit the whirring Bludger. He was a quick enough thinker to see that there was no way he’d make the move in time, so he simply did the next best thing- turning his back to the ball and ducking his head into his chest, covering the back of his neck with his arms.
With a sickening crack, the Bludger made foul contact with Beomgyu’s back, striking just below his left shoulder blade. The force knocked him forward, his hands barely catching himself as he met the ground harshly. He cried out in pain, the sound bouncing around the stands and piercing your veins. In a hurry, you crawled toward his heaving body and urged him to sit up with the guidance of your hands.
“Are you okay?” The words rushed out of you in a hurry, panic crawling up the back of your throat at the shine of tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.
“Wh-what the hell do you think?” He groaned, body shaking as he struggled to even take a breath.
“Okay, right. Dumb question. Let’s get you to the infirmary, yeah?” His legs shook as he got them under him, something akin to a baby deer taking its first few steps. Instinctively you shot out an arm to steady him, looping your arm behind his back as effectively as you could given the height difference and placement of his injury.
“Merlin, I think I broke my shoulder blade,” he groaned, stumbling across the uneven ground with trepidation.
“You didn’t, I watched. It actually hit right below your shoulder blade, so if anything it’s just bruised, and you probably won’t even need a bone-healing spell, so recovery should be little more than some Devil’s Claw for the pain and-”
“Did someone cast a babbling curse on you? Merlin’s beard. It’s bad enough that you got me hit to begin with, and now I have to listen to you run your mouth!’ His voice was still pinched with pain, an octave lower than normal as he gritted his teeth. The two of you finally reached the threshold of the castle, encapsulated by the warmth of the torches littered all inside.
“I’m trying to help! Did you ever consider the fact that if you had showed up to our scheduled meeting time, you could have avoided being hit. I could have avoided freezing all of my extremities off, and I wouldn’t have to be helping your ass to the infirmary.”
The noise of your bickering outside of the infirmary wing attracted the nurse to the hallway, who furrowed her eyebrow in silent question over the two of you.
“He got hit by a Bludger, ma’am,” you supply as soon as you see her. Her eyes widen instantly as she rushed forward, helping you guide Beomgyu into an empty cot. She shooed you aside as she fretted over him, asking questions about the incident in a low, steady tone before nodding seriously. Without any kind of warning, Beomgyu was pulling the fabric of his uniform over his head, leaving his top half bared to you. Your cheeks burned, and you cleared your throat nervously. The nurse was too busy prodding at the blossoming bruise to have heard your stutter, but Beomgyu was nothing if not aware.
His dark eyes found your form standing just a few paces away, staring unabashedly at the faint hint of his abs that had become visible.
“Somethin’ you like?” He drawled playfully, snapping you out of your reverie.
“Merlin, no.” You sneered, hoping to cover the thickness of your tone as you swallowed hard. “Just trying to decide if I should tell the Quidditch team to get their backup trained for the game tomorrow night.” Beomgyu’s face fell at the implication of your words and a sting of regret struck your heart.
“There will be no need for a backup, dear,” the nurse cooed, shuffling her feet as she gathered up a few healing supplies. She offered a bottle of innocent looking clear liquid to Beomgyu and he drank it instantly, grimacing at what you assumed to be a foul taste. “Now, dear, if you don’t fancy seeing your boyfriend in more pain as I heal him-”
“Please. He is not my boyfriend. I just helped him get here. I’ll be going now, anyway. See you tomorrow?” You asked pointedly, hoping he would understand your incessant need to finish the Potions project. He nodded slightly, and you scanned Beomgyu’s form one more time before excusing yourself to the nurse and scurrying back to your dorm.
——
“I better hear a thank you.” Beomgyu asserted as soon as he slumped in the seat across from you. He had been so quiet in his approach to the table that you hadn’t heard him until now, rocketing your gaze up towards him from the pages of your Transfiguration book.
“Beomgyu,” you breathed, relieved to see that he had been healed and able to return to classes just the morning after the Bludger hit. You schooled your features into cool indifference as soon as you saw his mouth twitch up at the sound of his name. “For what am I thanking you? Withholding information about the project?”
“No,” he shook his head, springing a few carefully parted hairs loose from their spot. “For- number one-” he paused dramatically, drumming his bony fingers against the edge of the high-topped table, “providing you all the information for finishing this project.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produced a thick roll of parchment that unrolled to reveal a step by step explanation. Pages of carefully written instructions went into great detail on every step of the potions that needed to be made. A sense of relief and happiness washed through you, enough to make your hands curl into excited fists as you beamed.
“Turns out our Seeker is good at more than catching a Snitch. She got the highest marks in this class last year, and agreed to share the notes with me.”
“Thank you, Beomgyu. Seriously. I was beginning to worry.”
“I know, I know. It feels good to be your savior, Y/N. Oh, which reminds me of reason number two; the fact that I spared you a Bludger hit last night.”
“I thought we’d already covered this. Most of that encounter was your fault. Plus, your little shove left me with a bruise of my own on my ass.” Pouting, you shifted your weight in an attempt to alleviate the pain against said bruise.
“Just admit it, Y/N,” he leaned forward, his face mere inches from your own so as not to be heard by anyone around. “You’re indebted to me. Two times over.” He was cocky, but you had to admit he had a point. As much grief as he had caused you, he had saved you from both a failing grade and an injury in just under 24 hours.
“You’ve got a point.” Beomgyu shrunk back into his seat, cocking his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard you correctly. It seemed like he was waiting for a witty remark or some kind of argument to his words, but you kept a sure, steady gaze on him instead. Either your eyes were playing tricks on you or there was a slowly building flush of red blooming from under the collar of his cable-knit sweater onto his cheeks. Against your will, your mind reproduced the image of his bared chest from last night.
“What do I owe you?” The question rolled off of your tongue like butter as you took the chance to lean forward to him, balancing carefully on your stool with your elbows planted onto the table.
“I-I just,” Beomgyu frowned at his stutter, apparently upset by his own lack of confidence. His mouth opened and closed again in quick succession and you grinned wider. Another teasing lilt was right at the tip of your tongue, but the booming voice of your professor cracked the tension wide open and had you sitting back on your stool.
——
Two days later, you stand behind your stool in Potions class, wringing your hands together nervously. Your portly professor had spent all morning swirling around the class, leaning over the cauldrons and vials present at every table. He muttered a few things to every pair of students, nodding along as they explained their approach to him. It seemed as if he were grading on the spot, since you caught a glimpse of a quill gliding over a small strip of parchment.
Finally the elder approached your table, bushy eyebrows pinched into one another as he had already begun to scrutinize the potions laid out for him. He said nothing as he approached, quietly appraising your work. One by one, he picked up the vials one by one, peering through the clear bottom and giving them an experimental swirl. He hummed happily to himself and your heart soared. Across the table you noticed Beomgyu looking equally pleased. The professor set down the vials one by one before leveling his gaze onto you.
“How do you think you did?” He questioned, producing the same thin strip of parchment you’d seen him use at other tables. Palms sweating, you stole a glance at Beomgyu who gave you an encouraging wave of his hand.
“I think we did quite well, professor. It took us a bit to get the whole project together, but I feel confident in our end results here.” Nervously, your eyes skated down to his quill, tapping against the parchment rhythmically.
“Well, I think you did quite well, the two of you. These potions are near perfect. Couldn’t make them any better myself.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from your lungs, shocking you beyond belief. Never once in your life did you think you’d be receiving such high marks in Potions- especially with Beomgyu as your partner. Your professor marked a delicate “A+” on the small strip of parchment.
Beomgyu threw a triumphant fist in the air, wiggling in his spot with pure excitement. Your professor let out a belly laugh, spinning around to address the entire class.
“I didn’t want to advertise this since I wanted you all to put in your best, pure efforts to the project. But, now that I’ve reviewed everyone’s work and determined the best,” you swapped a look of confusion with Beomgyu, both assuming that he was referring to you. “I am offering an award to our friends at Station 1!” He motioned to the two of you wildly, robes flailing as you ushered to the front of the room. Your peers glared at the two of you, but you were too far onto cloud nine to care.
“Good thing I got those notes, huh?” Beomgyu muttered to you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Good thing I spent all last night making sure we actually had the potions to present.” Keeping your voice low and level to keep him from sensing just how grateful you were for his efforts. The class murmured lowly, surely trading snide remarks about the two of you until the professor cleared his throat pointedly.
From the pocket of his robes, the professor pulled out two small, clear vials. One was pressed into each of your palms, and you stared up at him with confusion. Maybe this was a sign you should have paid more attention to the types of potions around you.
“Luck potions, please use them carefully” he supplied helpfully, swirling back around to face the entire class. “Now, who’s willing to take a photo of me and our winners?” The professor bellowed, producing an old film camera from somewhere and brandishing until someone shuffled off of their stool.
——
Fresh, fluffy snow floated down in gentle waves outside the window. It was the thick of winter now, and despite your best efforts to bundle up you were still huddling into yourself for warmth as students shuffled into Potions around you. Everyone seemed especially lethargic, yearning for the break from classes that Christmas promised. You laid your head onto your folded arms, feeling just as exhausted as the atmosphere suggested.
Sleep had been evading you lately, annoyingly deceptive as you would lay down in bed tired only to be kept awake by your racing mind for several hours. Somehow settling into your arms in this classroom was the most content you’d felt in days. And then you felt a firm push at the back of your head. There was no mistaking who the perpetrator was, especially as you heard the scrape of a stool directly across from you.
“Good morning to you too, Beomgyu.” He was perched perfectly on his stool, eyes wide and bright. For as long as you’d known him, he had thrived in the cold and the snow. “You are obnoxiously cheerful. God damn Gryffindors.”
“Not my fault you’re such a grouch. But I guess it is true that snakes don’t like the cold.”
“Do you ever let up? Or do you get pleasure out of ruining my mood every single morning?”
A grin cracked his lips as a short laugh bubbled through. “Thinking about my pleasure, are you? Concerned I’m not getting enough? I can assure you that-”
“Okay, gross. Stop. Enough. You know that isn’t what I meant.” Quite honestly, you had no time to endure his usual teasing so you simply turned your body away from him, idly watching the professor gather his things at the desk.
“Right, let’s get going! We need all the time we can manage today!” He seemed more jubilant than usual as he centered his own cauldron onto the middle of his desk. “Today we’ll be making love potions. Amortentia, you may know. If you’ll open to page 104, you can find the procedure. It is important to note that this potion cannot make anyone truly fall in love, but it does create a strong attraction to whomever you make with it in mind. Of course, the full effect doesn’t apply unless it is consumed. Today we will simply be brewing it for practice. If done correctly, the potion will emulate-”
“The scent of what you find most attractive,” you muttered absent mindedly, reading directly off of the page you had open in your lap.
“Exactly, miss Y/N. Your potion today will smell like what you find most appealing.” He nodded proudly. A feeling of anxiety rose in your chest as he rattled on. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of the type of scents that would come from the potion. You were quite fond of some scents in candle form, but you wouldn’t classify them as...attractive. Even more worrying was the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you would have to reveal this concoction in front of Beomgyu, who took every chance presented to torment you. Your professor clapped his hands together, marking the beginning of your working period.
The instructions were simple enough, so you took extra care to be sure that the measurements were as perfect as you could get them. The room was shrouded in a hushed silence that indicated everyone was working hard on this. After all, this was the most exciting potion that’d been offered to you all year.
“Can’t wait to see which poor dude you have a crush on,” Beomgyu chuckled as he stirred his pot exactly three times counter-clockwise.
“Could say the same for you! I seriously petty whichever girl you’ve been fancying. Imagine being at the receiving end of your...ick. You’d better tell me who it is so I can send them a warning.” You stirred your pot the same way he had, watching the mixture turn to a stereotypical bright pink. The instructions lead you to allow the mixture to culminate for exactly two minutes before any results could be sought.
The students who happened to work faster than you were already taking a sniff at their potions and recording the scents on their parchment, some pairs gossiping amongst one another about what they smelled. A clank of metal had you whipping your head upwards, locking eyes with Beomgyu as adjusted his small cauldron to bend over his potion. Since it wasn’t your own, there was no scent for you to distinguish, but you watched the way his eyes widened in shock for a second.
Unfortunately you had no time to process his expressions before you had to examine the contents of your own cauldron. Before you could even take a deliberate sniff, your senses were rushed with a mix of sweetened musk, a wood that seemed somewhere between cedar and mahogany, and an addicting citrusy undertone that you eventually recognized as bergamot. You placed it immediately.
“Merlin, Beomgyu. Could you refrain from spraying your cologne right now? Why are you even carrying it with you in the middle of-” The words died in your throat as you realized how incriminating your words had become, seeing as Beomgyu had nothing but his quill in his hands. A feeling of sickness rose in the back of your throat as he let out a hearty laugh.
“My cologne, huh? I actually didn’t even have time to put any on today,” he peered over at your parchment, his height allowing him to easily read the fragrance notes you had scribbled before complaining. “But those are the exact notes of what I wear.”
Your cheeks flamed, the heat radiating so fully through your system that you felt yourself begin to sweat despite how cold you’d been before. There was no worse fate than this, you decided. Amortentia had betrayed you, putting you under the mercy of Beomgyu’s knowing stare. Fuck, did he really have to find out now that the smell of his cologne secretly drove you crazy? That as much as you hated the way he teased and antagonized you, somewhere deep down you’d never quite lost the crush you developed in second year?
“I was beginning to think you might’ve had a crush on me, Y/N. Isn’t that so sweet! The stony little Slytherin finally realizing that she’s attracted to me...this is quite the revelation!” Beomgyu lamented, obviously overjoyed at the new ammo he could load into his teasing.
As much as you searched, you could find no words to defend yourself, as the proof was truly in the potion. A bit defeated, you sunk back into your stool, content to bury your face into your hands until your next class began; but at your new level you could see Beomgyu’s own piece of parchment scrawled with what he had smelled. Reading them upside down was a bit of a challenge, but he was too busy complimenting himself to recognize your analytical stare. Written in a neat list were the scents: sage, some type of berry (juniper?), eucalyptus, something woody (cedar?).
Your heart stuttered, a bitter laugh threatening to spill out and give yourself away. Skillfully you held it back, cursing to any god or deity who might be listening. The notes matched up exactly with the perfume you wore every single day.
——
“You asked him why he sprayed his cologne?” Georgiana gaped at you across the table in the Great Hall. The two of you had joined up for lunch just hours after your Potions class disaster.
“Yes, but that’s not all! Just before I melted into a puddle of my own dispair, I saw his list, and I swear to Merlin it’s the exact notes of my perfume! Look,” you produced the travel-sized bottle from your pocket, flipping it to the back label and listing off the exact ingedients.
“Wow,” Georgiana nodded, sinking her teeth into a piece of pizza. “That’s quite remarkable.”
“Why are you not giving me more of a reaction?” You whined, stomping your foot against the floor petulantly. She raised an eyebrow high, taking a few more chews at her food.
“You want me to be honest? Or nice?” She asked, weighing the invisible options on her hands in front of you.
“Honest, I guess.”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d pick that one. You see, my sweet Y/N, the two of you have been dancing around this for years. Even though you renounced him all those years ago, I still talk to him on occasion. Not to mention he’s friends with Soobin, so I’ve been provided with some...insider information. To be honest, Soobin and I have both been waiting for the day the two of you finally stopped bickering and like...made out.”
Your face twisted unpleasantly, shocked at her words. “Insider information?” You croaked, creases forming in your forehead. Georgiana smiled devilishly and you swore you could see red horns rising from her fiery hair.
“Beomgyu talks about you all the time. Apparently, back when he was dating Klara, he would often talk to Soobin about how she never bantered with him like you did. They broke up because he kept comparing her to you. Told Soobin that he’s had a crush on you just as long as you have, but he thought you thoroughly hated him.”
“He has a crush on me?” You sputtered, stomach twisting into knots somewhere between disbelief and excitement. Georgiana full on laughed upon seeing your face, the cackle permeating through the air and turning heads.
“Well, I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up. If he’s got a crush on me, he can bring it up.” You suddenly decide, finally indulging in the pizza that had been waiting for you since you sat down.
“That’s my girl, stubborn to the very end.” Georgiana grinned and offered her hand for a high five that you eagerly returned.
——
The weekend brought you a much needed break from both schoolwork and all things Beomgyu related. Christmas break was fast approaching, and all of your professors had surprisingly laid off on assignments. It seemed as if they were just as tired of grading as you were of doing the work.
Unsurprisingly you found yourself in the library, sitting underneath the twinkling of the fairy lights set up especially for the holidays. Most other students were out socializing, so the room was pleasantly vacant. As a result you were able to settle into one of the plush velvet couches that were usually occupied.
After roaming the aisles you’d found an anthology of wizard poetry that piqued your interest. Settling beteeen the cushions of the couch with a book made you feel the most at home you ever had, cracking open the delicate binding and balancing the book in your stomach as you began to read.
There was no way to tell how long you’d been reading, but by your estimations it was only about 20 minutes before someone was looming above you. Startled, you lifted your gaze over the book to see none other than Beomgyu standing before you. He was decked out in a sage green sweater paired with slightly oversized beige slacks. He had forgone his robes, but his Head Boy pin still shined on the breast of his shirt. Typical.
“Can I help you?” You asked, finally sitting up to regard him.
“I thought you’d be here.” He said simply, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. You blinked.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” you poked, slipping your book shut dramatically. “Did you want to ask me something?” Beomgyu licked at his lips before rubbing his fingers against his forehead.
“Merlin, why do you make everything so hard?” He groaned and seemingly became so exhausted that he collapsed onto the ornate rug under his feet. Seeing that you’d riled him up so much by doing practically nothing sent excitement through your veins. As much as the bickering annoyed you, there was no denying the thrill you felt when giving him back a taste of his medicine.
“What exactly am I making so hard? I don’t even know what you’re here for. To be honest I’m shocked you managed to find me in the library. I figured you would start to burn at the door and have to find a different way in.”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing at his pillowy lips.
“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.” He finally began to reveal the award winning smile you’d come to know whenever he teased you. “I know what Georgiana told you.” His voice was low, so quiet that if there had been any other souls in the library you’d have missed it.
Your eyes flew open and he flushed instantly. “You two aren’t exactly quiet at the Great Hall, and I’ve got more than a few friends.” It was your turn to flush red, wondering just how many conversations between you and Georgiana had been overheard by other people.
“So you know that I said...”
“Why do you think I’m here? All it took was me knowing you also...you know,” he picked at the nonexistent loose threads in the carpet. Honestly, you were shocked at how reserved he had become in the face of this confrontation. All traces of his usual confidence seemed to have vanished in the moment.
“I do like you, Beomgyu. I had a massive crush on you in second year, but then we got into that fight and-”
“I wouldn’t call it a fight,” he countered animatedly. “You just never understood my humor. All this time, I was hoping that you would catch the hints.”
“Hints?” It felt like your eyes were going to fall out of your head with how wide you held them. “You call those hints? I’d call those lackluster clues, at best.”
He was quiet for a moment, examining the smirk on your lips carefully. In a moment of impulse you slid off of the couch to sit opposite him on the floor, knees touching. Your heart hammered against your ribs.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, gripping at his thighs nervously. “Didn’t know how else to go about it.”
“That’s okay, me either, obviously.” A rueful laugh escaped your lips, and he returned one just as easily. Up this close, the planes of his face were defined by the delicate light provided from the fairy lights. Shyly you shared glances, neither of you knowing quite how to deal with the charged anticipation in the air.
“Will you...come to the last Quidditch game tomorrow?” He finally spoke, snapping your attention back to him.
“Only if I don’t have to wear one of your ugly jerseies.” Feeling bold, you leaned forward just a few inches, beginning to close the gap between you gradually.
“Fine,” he acquised, leaning forward just the same as you had, his breath fanning hot over your face. “In exchange for not wearing a jersey, how about you...” he tapped at his lips cheekily. A surge of excitement tumbled through you.
“That’s a shit way of asking me to kiss you for the first time, Choi.” Nevertheless you leaned forward further, bumping your nose against his own before you finally pecked him firmly on the lips. You felt ridiculously shy, like you were having your first kiss all over again, but Beomgyu smiled reassuringly, pulling your hands into his own and linking them together. The touch encouraged you both, and your lips collided with more assurance than before.
The faint scent of pumpkin juice lingered on his lips, and you wondered how many bottles he’d drank before finally deciding to come find you. Finally you both sought a new breath, taking a moment to close your eyes and collect yourself. When they fluttered back open you saw Beomgyu staring back at you intently, pupils reflecting the strands of lights strung above you.
He mumbled something so quietly that you couldn’t even hear it at your close distance.
“What was that?” You asked, wondering if you’d caught the end of a charmingly romantic thought.
“I said you’re in need of practice.” He smirked, leaning back of his hands cockily.
“Fuck you, man,” you slapped at his shoulder with a firm clap. He gasped, a hand covering his heart as if he were being sworn into a committee.
“Already? I didn’t take you for such an impure heart!” Another hearty laugh bounced around the library and you ducked your head into your hands, resigning to the fact that you were stuck with him.
#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu angst#beomgyu imagine#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu fanfic#beomgyu fic#beomgyu au#beomgyu reaction#beomgyu reactions#txt fanfic#txt#txt fluff#txt angst#txt au#txt x reader#txt imagine#txt imagines#txt reaction#txt fic#txt reactions#txt beomgyu#tomorrow x together#tomorrow x together fic#tomorrow x together fluff#tomorrow x together imagine#tomorrow x together imagines#tomorrow x together fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Your writing is so wonderful! Could I maybe request something comforting? I’m currently recovering from a surgery to repair my foot with bone anchors and I’ll be bed ridden for 6 weeks. Maybe something with Loki being very supportive and caring for the reader 24/7, moving into her room etc. and the team are just surprised at how helpful he’s being to her. 🤗.
A/N: I’m sorry if I posted this at a weird time, but I have the next chapter to my series Voiceless Love coming out and I wanted to give this fic some time to be seen before that got posted. It’s also a little short, but I felt like this was perfect as a short and sweet fic, instead of a 2k+ story, haha. Also, I know it isn’t 100% exactly what you wanted, but I get stuck with one idea and run with it, oops. I hope you are getting better with your foot. That stinks so much and I’ve been there with my own ankle injuries. If you have any requests for some fics while you recover, send them my way! I always need some inspo and if I can give you some entertainment during your recovery, that would be great. Now, read this, get some sleep, and drink some water. I hope you heal nicely <3
Lucky
Loki x reader
Word count: 1533
Warnings: Pure fluff, just fluff, fluffiness, maybe a bit of sexualizing Loki (I couldn’t help myself)
Seeing your friends carrying big heavy boxes for you swells your heart. It’s also hilarious to see Thor actually struggling to carry something. Tony finds it amusing too given that he’s not doing any of the work but it’s sipping mimosas next to you. Thor grumbles about getting all the heavy boxes, but you also know Sam and Bucky purposely avoid the big ones.
If someone were to tell you ten years ago that you’d be saved from getting tortured by Hydra and become an Avenger, you’d tell them they’re delusional, but this is your life. Even after years of torture and pain, you considered yourself lucky. You could have been the new Soldat, ruined over and over again to be a war machine, but now you’re a trained assassin like Bucky and Nat with a broken leg.
You lean yourself against a wall in your room with your crutches beside you (along with Tony, of course, that lazy bum). Steve, Bucky, and Thor are carrying in boxes while Sam, Nat, and Peter help unpack some things. Today is the day you officially move into the tower with the rest of your teammates and due to your current disability, the other avengers offered to help you. Another reason why you consider yourself lucky.
Peter is by far the most adorable on the team. He’s fully unpacking for you, even arranging the frames on your shelves and the organizers on your desk. He at point made your bed when Steve brought in your blankets and sheets. Bucky has been super sweet, too, giving you funny looks every time he passes by and asking where the best spot for the box he is carrying to go.
But the one “avenger” you didn’t expect to be as helpful as he is, is Loki. The others told him to move out of the way, not wanting his condescending attitude to ruin the fun day, but Loki started to carry boxes in as well. The first time, the avengers were stunned by him, but then they were gracious because he used his magic to transport them, making the job go by quicker. Loki just stands at the bottom of the truck outside and wipes his hand over each cardboard box, sending it to your room.
You really are lucky.
-
Two days pass by and you decide to ignore your laziness and finally unpack the rest of your boxes. You attempt to push some photo boxes on the top of your shelves, but you find yourself stretching so hard to reach the top. Your foot injury really is stupid and you just want to be able to normal walk, or jump, or even go on your tip toes.
Then you hear a sly chuckle coming from behind you. You let out a frustrated sign knowing exactly who it is.
“Loki, if you’re going to stand there and laugh at me, could you least help me and laugh at me?”
“Of course, darling.” He jokes.
He comes up behind you and takes the box from your struggling fingertips and carefully paces it on top of the shelf.
“Is there anything else you helpless being needs help with?”
“I could use help with hanging my window curtains.”
You point to the box in the corner with your large sheer curtains folded in them. He chuckles and goes over the box, carefully picking them up and hanging them on the frame. You can’t help but notice his figure as he hangs them. He is a marvelous being and who are you to deny your eyes of such a sight?
The sight in front of you proved that you are lucky
-
Tony gathers the group for a game night and it results in everyone becoming drunk and children. At some point, it becomes a truth or drink game night and everyone has their poison. You have your legs laid over Loki’s lap, who was really hard to convince to join the game, and a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in your hand, only because Tony didn’t have anything else. Loki’s slowly running his fingers over your legs, but higher than your cast.
“Okay, Steve,” Natasha coos, “your turn. Have you ever done drugs?”
“I did marijuana in high school once.”
The whole team gasps and whistles at his answer.
“Captain ain’t so wholesome, now, is he?” Sam cackles.
“I remember that night,” Bucky laughs, “You were so high.”
Steve chuckles and nods his head before looking to see you cuddled up next to Loki and gets a wicked idea.
“Loki, you’ve been quiet. Your turn.”
“Please no, I’m beyond your little games.”
“Aw come on, brother! One question won’t hurt you,” Thor laughs.
“Who in this room would ever kiss?”
Tony whistles and takes a sip of his drink as everyone else laughs. You can feel the ice giant get slightly warm out of embarrassment. His face is flushed with a rose pink color as you get nervous, lightly chuckling to himself.
“I uh…”
“Answer it. Answer it. Answer it.” Sam chants.
Everyone chuckles at the clear uncomfortableness of the god, not seeing him like this often.
“Y/N.” He whispers, almost too quiet for you to even hear.
“Louder, brother. I couldn’t hear you,” Thor says innocently.
“Y/N.”
You smile up at Loki in shock. He won’t look down to meet your eyes but stares straight out the window past Tony. The entire team cheers and chuckles.
“Oh, we’re never letting that one down.”
“How lucky am I?” You laugh.
-
You attempt to cook yourself some lunch but your stupid cast is getting in the way of moving around. It’s getting tiring to pick up your crutches every time you need a tool two feet away from you. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you hit the edge of the counter with the spatula in your hand.
“What is wrong, dearest?”
You turn your head to see Loki standing behind you with a concerned look on his face, this time not here to make fun of you.
“I’m tired of my stupid foot getting in the way of doing normal activities.”
“Darling, sit down. I’ll make lunch for you.”
“Loki, you really-”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
Loki picks you up and sets you down on the couch while also handing you the remote. He goes to the kitchen and attempts to resume your lunch.
“Sweetest, what are you cooking?”
You laugh really hard at his confusion.
“Fajitas.”
“What are those?”
“See Loki, it’s fine! You really don’t have to.”
“And I’m not going to. I’ll make Stark do it.”
Loki orders JARVIS to get Tony and finish making lunch for you. You laugh and shake your head at Loki as he sits down beside you on the couch. He starts to run his fingers through your hair but keeps getting caught in the tangles.
“Why is your hair like this?”
“It’s hard to do anything while standing up. I can barely brush my teeth without falling over.”
“Well, it looks like I’ll do that for you, too.”
“Loki, I swear if you-”
“No point in arguing. I’m going to assist you.”
You rolls your eyes at the cocky god as he smiles at you. Nuzzling your head into his neck, Loki holds you tightly in an embrace. Tony comes in to see you two cuddling and shakes his head.
“You are so lucky we love you.”
-
You wake up the next day to see Loki sleeping beside you on your bed. You try to remember anything that happened last night, but you were so tired, nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t have a broken foot, you would be concerned about waking up next to a god, but you also know he wouldn’t have done anything with your injury. He’s too kind (much to some disbelief).
“Good morning, darling.”
Loki leans over to you and kisses you on the forehead. He wasn’t as asleep as you thought he was, but you’re not complaining. Waking up beside this adonis isn’t the worst way to spend a morning.
“Good morning.”
“I don’t care what you say,” Loki smiles, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, “you’re staying in bed and I’m waiting on you.”
“That’s very sweet. Thank you.”
“I’m glad someone learned something last night.”
“Actually, I don’t remember a lot from last night. I was tired.”
“We bickered about me waiting on you, hand and foot.”
“Hmm, that sounds about right.”
“So, today I’m treating you like a proper princess.”
“Does that mean we’re together?”
Loki looks at you confused, but his face lights up when he realizes what you’re implying.
“I suppose so. In that case, my princess, I will wait on you.”
You watched as the god all day served you lunch and dinner. He brushed your hair and teeth. Helped you change clothes. Played your music to cheer you up. Even carried you to the bathroom when you had to go.
Thinking about all the things your friends have done for you and all of the things that Loki, your prince, has done, all you can say is how lucky you are.
#loki fluff#loki fanfic#loki fan fiction#loki laufeyson#loki#loki x reader#loki x reader fluff#loki oneshot#marvel x reader#anonrequest#lovingallforloki
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!
kuroo tetsuro
listen LISTEN
sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky
and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that
but , BUT , BUUUUT !
the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”
your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!
kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈
you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake
kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x
so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah
you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window
due to personal reasons, you want to pass away
you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it
the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill
from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you
mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?
you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???
kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin
you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie
it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping
you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line
while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos
you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤
you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food
kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried
so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down
he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning
you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(
he’s baby
kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?
you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you
kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp
tsukishima kei
bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong
canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!
he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out
tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me
yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:
so you’re there like ??????
bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool
because now you were sleep deprived and hungry
you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or
tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming
he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!
so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on
he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips
you, defeated: i’ve been played
tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations
you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am
turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying
safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it
tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground
you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO
when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺
tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell
tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓
you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed
you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so
you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?
tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to
you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it
so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you
he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM
you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌
tsukishima: unfortunately so
akaashi keiji
AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!
like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????
he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”
he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !
he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you
( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )
so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed
but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox
the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”
and you didn’t really expect him to reply?
it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????
akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am
you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅
he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!
but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing
he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”
YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!
you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell
now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete
you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆♀️
it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen
akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful
you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!
in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet
akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:
you, on the verge of tears: please catch me
AND he does 🥺
it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS
you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die
when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine
he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit
the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat
it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal
you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺
akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:
you: i’m less sorry
bokuto koutaro
BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR
i accept no arguments, go cry about it
i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry
the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it
like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !
before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it
you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(
but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now
and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?
if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well
but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon
you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT
bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that
so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on
your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off
what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away
bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH
you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!
so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance
bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈
you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️
he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest
he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM
he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺
he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that
he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric
bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?
you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you
bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry
#eyo hasn't slept yet check#please don't let this flop i'll cry#gym 3 squad best boys ever#also if you notice typos or things that don't make sense pls tell me i'm dying#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#akaashi keiji#akaashi#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima x reader#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto#bokuto koutaro#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu#hq!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu oneshots#imagines
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Undone [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]
Ok, so this is the first time I could get myself to write smut for Nestor, which is weird to think about because he is a SEXY motherfucker, you know?
Anyway, I know I've been on a Nestor roll lately, but I swear I have other stuff coming, too. Two Bishop pieces and a Chibs piece in the works.
So, this is a fluffy, smutty one-shot for Nestor, whom I adore.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut (cunnilingus, fingering, P in V sex); mention of blood | Words: 1,690
When Nestor arrived home that night, exhausted, with his clothes covered in dried blood, he found you dancing in the kitchen, unaware of his presence. Soft music swelled from your phone propped on the counter and you waltzed over the tile in bare feet, your red silk robe fluttering around your thighs. Your eyes were closed and you wore a dreamy look on your face, swaying to the music that Nestor identified as one of your favorite piano pieces. He stood silently in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you adoringly. After grueling days of carrying out deplorable deeds on behalf of Miguel, Nestor could always count on coming home to your loving embrace, and he was thankful for it every day.
Today had been one of those days, as evidenced by the bloodstains on his clothes and the droop in his shoulders. Your eyes opened slowly to check your phone, awaiting a text or call from Nestor, only to find him standing in front of you, longing in his eyes. Your heart swelled at the sight of him. You glanced briefly at the dried blood on his clothes as you took the few steps that would place him in your arms. He held you tightly, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of your jasmine perfume. You felt the steady heartbeat in his chest against yours for a moment before stepping back to look over him. You sighed teasingly at his stained clothes.
“What am I going to do with you, Oceteva?”
Nestor grinned sheepishly. “Have a lower water bill probably.”
You laughed, and nudged him towards the laundry room, where you helped him strip down until he stood beside the dryer in just his boxer briefs, leaning casually against the machine. He watched as you began the process of stain removal on his clothes, a process you had refined over the last couple of years with Nestor. While you left his pants and shirt to soak before washing, you glanced over to admire the view of Nestor’s exposed body, smirking to yourself. As your gaze traveled to his face, you recognized the fatigue in his stance and his eyes. With a quiet hum, you traced your fingers lightly over his warm side before lacing them with his. You led him to the living room, bathed in dim yellow lamplight, where you took a seat on the couch with your legs spread and motioned for him to sit on the floor in front you. Relatively early in your relationship, Nestor had confessed just how much he loved when you played with his hair, and so you had always made a point of being the one to do and then undo his hair.
You pulled the little black rubber bands from the bottoms of his two braids, gently running your fingers through the twisted strands to untangle his curls. You were more than a little envious of Nestor’s hair, but being the one who got to play with it felt like an acceptable consolation prize. You worked your way through his hair deliberately, massaging his scalp with your fingertips as you approached the crown of his head, savoring the little sighs and moans that slipped between his lips. Over the years, you had come to associate letting out Nestor’s braids with a weight being lifted, at least for the night; as though each little motion helped to untangle the knots of moral quandary that he carried inside him as a result of his work for the cartel.
In the beginning, Nestor had been hesitant to even get involved with you. He was, understandably, worried about putting you in harm’s way, but he was more worried about the emotional and psychological toll that being even peripherally related to the cartel could cause. It had taken significant convincing on your part to show him that you weren’t afraid, and that you weren’t going anywhere.
When Nestor’s braids were completely undone, you found yourself absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, parsing out his curls and twirling them around your fingers. His head tipped backwards into your lap, his eyes closed contentedly. As you gazed down at him, at the smoothing of the lines on his face, you smiled, letting your fingers caress his cheekbones, the cut across his temple, his bearded jaw. As your thumb grazed his lower lip, he reached a hand to yours, holding it still to place a soft kiss on your palm. You lowered your face to hover over his, nuzzling his nose, and a contented hum resonated in his chest.
Before you could register what was happening, Nestor had turned towards you, coming onto his knees between your legs. He rested his palms on the tops of your thighs, his thumbs brushing the hem of your silk robe. His grasp was firm and warm and it built a slow fire in your belly. His dark eyes studied you, a mixture of hunger and tenderness swirling in their depths. His grip tightened on your legs and he tugged you slightly forward before tugging at the sash of your robe, letting it fall open. You caught the quick clench of his jaw when he realized you were completely naked underneath. He pushed the robe off your shoulders, resting his head on your stomach and for a moment, all was still.
Slowly, Nestor pressed his lips to your hip, dragging the tip of his nose along your skin, raising goosebumps. Your fingers trailed along his cheek as his head moved lower. He nudged your legs further apart, planting a trail of lazy kisses between your thighs. A sigh slipped out of you and you melted into Nestor’s touch as his tongue dipped between your folds, his touch delicate and teasing. When he felt the first twitch of your hips, beckoning, begging for more, he sank himself deeper, his tongue dancing over your clit while two thick fingers pushed into you.
“God, Nestor,” you moaned, coming undone with his efforts.
A low hum of pleasure built in his chest as your fingers wound themselves into his hair and pulled tenderly, keeping him settled between your legs. You begged him for more as your eyes closed, your head falling back against the couch cushions. You squirmed in his grip, your hips grinding against this mouth.
His fingers picked up the pace, and you gazed down at him, whimpering at the hungry look in his dark eyes as he peered back at you from under his full lashes. He studied you intently, captivated by the way your body writhed before him. His free hand slid in a slow caress up your side, cupping your breast and running his thumb gently over your nipple. Heat radiated across your face as the coil in your belly tightened, so utterly close to snapping. Nestor pushed you further, lapping against your core with a flattened tongue. A new pressure settled behind your eyes as you trembled desperately, every muscle in your body tensed as Nestor took you over the edge. You came hard and loud, your thighs clenching around Nestor’s head instinctively as you rode the jolt of electricity surging through you. Nestor didn’t let up, his mouth and fingers bearing down on you until you were pushing him away, thoroughly overstimulated. He sat back on his heels with a smirk as you panted, your lips parted in reverence.
You pushed yourself up with weak arms, your chest heaving. You reached out and pulled Nestor to you, capturing him in a desperate kiss, not wanting him to be any farther away from you. Whining breathily at the taste of yourself on his tongue, you gripped his hips firmly, guiding him to sit on the couch beside you. You admired the way the soft light in your living room warmed his skin, highlighting the taut planes of his chest and stomach. You swung your leg lazily over his lap, straddling him as his lips delicately brushed the soft skin between your breasts.
You gasped as you lowered yourself onto Nestor’s hard length, warmth reigniting in the base of your belly. His strong hands slipped over your hips and came to rest on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your chest rested flush against his, your rapid heartbeats echoing one another’s. You looped your arms around his neck as you pressed your forehead against the crown of his head, rolling your hips against him. Unbridled groans and mumbled words of admiration tumbled from his mouth, his face captive between your breasts. His hands pressed harder on your back, pulling you down to bury himself fully inside you. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, his thumb circling your clit slowly to send you reeling. Nestor tossed his head back, his long curls splayed over the couch cushions, his neck bared to you. You trailed kisses along his neck tattoo, letting your tongue taste the salt on his skin. He murmured your name and you felt him tense beneath you. He took control, fucking up into you, slow and exacting, chasing his high.
It was too much; the tender way Nestor touched you, the building tension in your core, the slow rhythm and heat between your bodies. As his hips bucked beneath you, you came again, head thrown back and back arched, bliss coursing through your veins. The feeling of your walls clenching around Nestor’s cock wrecked him. With a few more erratic thrusts, he clutched you to his chest and spilled himself inside of you, his arms locking you in place. As he came down, he pressed velvet kisses along your cheekbones and across your forehead.
“Gracias por cuidarme, hermosa. (Thank you for taking care of me, beautiful.) Coming home to you keeps me sane,” he mumbled against your temple.
“You deserve to be taken care of, mi amor,” you whispered, running your hands through his loose curls again, watching as his eyelids began to droop at the fond touch. You smiled warmly, satisfied that, at least until tomorrow, Nestor’s braids had been undone and he had been unburdened.
#mayans fx#mayans mc#mayansmc#mayans smut#mayans imagine#nestor oceteva#nestor oceteva imagine#nestor oceteva x reader#mayans oneshot
253 notes
·
View notes
Note
I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)
When you post, post answering here please.
Again, much love,
📚🌻
Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)
The words dear 📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!
What happens in the gym....
Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC
Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊
Genre: Angsty Romance
“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.
“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.
“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.
“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“
“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“
It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.
Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.
Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go.
He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.
Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?
Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.
And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.
Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.
“Winters I-“
“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch
She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”
“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.
“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“
“Winters, please...“
“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“
He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.
“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”
“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.
It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.
“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“
Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening
“Sir, I-“
“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“
She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”
He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.
She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”
Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”
Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.
Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.
When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“
He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.
“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”
She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”
Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.
#resident evil#resident evil 8#resident evil village#resident evil 7#re8#re village#re8 village#resident evil chris#resident evil chris redfield#re chris redfield#re chris#chris#chris redfield#chris redfield fanfic#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield x oc#chris redfield imagine#karl heisenberg#lady dimitrescu#leon kennedy#ethan winters#mia winters#rose winters#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#fandom#fluff#romance#request
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Princess of All Saiyans
-
Masterlist
-
So first things first. I should probably mention that I killed Chi-Chi off before the start of the story. I completely forgot to include it in the notes last chapter. So sorry if there was any confusion there.
Ever since the last chapter, I've been kinda hooked on flashbacks. So there will be another one, this one featuring the man, the myth, the legend, the most ruthless of all the Saiyans King Vegeta. Also, my dumbass finally decided to create a Masterlist. I realized it's much easier than linking chapters individually.
-
Chapter 7
-
You've been on Planet Namek for approximately two hours, and the day has already been tremendously eventful. You and Vegeta have already had a run-in with Cui, who arrived shortly after you. That purple cretin went out the same way he lived as a spineless coward. Something was extremely satisfying about watching Vegeta drive that failure into the ground. Cui's demise was entirely his own fault. It's common knowledge that Saiyans grow stronger after a near-death experience. Underestimating your brother's growth was an act of pure stupidity.
After that minor inconvenience, the two of you toon into Dodoria's transmission, it sounds like those goons are slaughtering a village of Namekians, so they must store their Dragon Balls in separate settlements. Either that or they're executing them for leisure. Both are feasible possibilities. From what you've been able to gather, Frieza has four Dragon Balls in his possession, and he's currently after his fifth. Frieza even reveals some essential information on how these Namkeian villages operate. Before the signal cuts off entirely.
Vegeta attempts to find another channel, but they all come up as static. "Those Namekians must be craftier than they look. Something tells me Frieza's scouters are out of commission."
"Perhaps." He turns to you. "Or they figured out we were eavesdropping. Either way, keep your guard up."
The two of you fly around aimlessly. Though you still need to be careful. Frieza is somewhere on this god-forsaken planet, and a run-in with him and his lackeys at the moment would be unfavorable. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something that catches your attention. " I spy with my little eye an unsightly pink blob."
You direct Vegeta's attention to Dodoria, who has his classic disoriented look on his face. "Good eye." He smirks at you before ambushing Dodoria, knocking him into the water. You appear beside your brother on the shoreline, observing the water intently.
Two pink hands grasp onto the terrain as he pulls his head up, gasping for air. You both laugh maniacally at the pink creature's stupidity. You swear, after every encounter you have with Dodoria, he somehow gets dumber. "Oh, it's you two." He sounds far from pleased as he pulls himself out of the lake. "What the hell do you want?"
"Mind your manners, Dodoria." You scold him. "No need to be crude."
He scowls at you. "Arrogant Saiyans." He mutters under his breath. "That was a dirty trick Vegeta. Although I wouldn't expect anything less from you monkeys." Dodoria straightens his posture in an attempt to appear more intimidating. Spoiler alert, it doesn't work. "You know I can't just let you get away with blindsiding me."
Vegeta chuckles, rolling his eyes at the monster. "Oh, really now? Just what do you plan on doing? You're all alone. There's no Zarbon or Frieza for you to cower behind. How unfortunate for you."
"I doubt we'll even have to lift a finger." You shrug. "This should be a piece of cake."
Dodoria chuckles, shifting his gaze between you and Vegeta. "You two really think you can take me? You're both as egotistical as that father of yours, and you know how that ended for him. You Saiyan freaks will never be half the warrior that I am." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palm. How dare he even mention your father. "Listen, I know neither of you desires to fight me. And I don't particularly want to fight you either. So how about you just give me that scouter, and we can forget this ever happened. That's more than a fair deal. I think I'm actually being quite generous." His tone may be confident, but his body language gives him away. Who knew the pink menace was actually afraid of something.
"So your presumption was right." Vegeta turns to you. "Those Namekians must have destroyed their scouters. This puts us in an intriguing situation, doesn't it Y/N?" Vegeta removes his scouter, tossing it on the ground. "What are you waiting for, Dodoria? Take it."
He eyes you both skeptically, but he still takes the bait. Critical thinking has never been Dodoria's strong suit. "About time you brats showed me the respect I deserve." As he steps closer, Vegeta stomps on the scouter. The wretched thing, smashing into thousands of worthless pieces.
The pink monstrosity sneers. "No worries. I'll just take the girl's scouter." He speeds toward you, extending a hand in an attempt to rip the device off your face. Before he can even touch you, you grasp his arm, bending it behind his back.
"Why do they always think it's appropriate to get handsy with me?" A breathy sigh escapes your lips. "They'll never learn." You remove your scouter, holding it in the palm of your unoccupied hand. "Since you want it so bad." You snap your scouter in half, discarding the parts to the ground. "You ever think about laying your filthy hands on me again, you'll lose them." You toss the fool several feet away. The farther away he is, the better.
"Why would you--- it doesn't even matter." He stands back up, dusting himself off. "Now, you won't be able to find the Dragon Balls either."
You shake your head at him, a pleased look crossing your features. "Not exactly. You see, Earth was quite the adventure. We picked up a few new tricks. One that leaves those hunks of metal useless."
Dedoria furrows his brows at you, his entire face contorting. "You're lying."
"I'm afraid she isn't. This energy-sensing technique is quite simple. I doubt any of the members of the elite Frieza Force would be interested, though. It doesn't require much strength, and everyone knows you don't care for anything that doesn't involve flexing your muscles." Dodoria is more fat than muscle. It's an irrelevant technicality, one that would only piss off the blob more.
"I get it now." He seems to come to some sort of a realization. Only you have no idea what the hell he's referring to. "Those two runts I was chasing were earthlings." You stare at him in disbelief. Is it possible for them to be here? Raditz, he's the only possible explanation. But would he really be dumb enough to lead those weaklings to their deaths?
"W-What did you say?" Vegeta's mouth hangs agape.
"So I'm right. The looks on your faces tell me all I need to know. You're working together."
You combust into a fit of laughter, wiping tears from your eyes. This has to be the funniest thing you've heard all week. "Even if those pests were here. Never in a million years would we align ourselves with those soft-hearted fools."
"You must be mistaken. Even if those earthlings were here, we'd be able to sense them." Now that you think about it. Have you been able to sense them? You haven't been looking, but you have felt some strange energy. You just assumed it was some half-wit from the Frieza Force, but now you're not so sure.
"It doesn't really matter anyway." He rolls his eyes. "You two are no longer any use to me. So either get lost, or I'll have to finish you off myself."
"Why, how generous of you." The sarcasm practically drips from your voice. "I think he's afraid Vegeta."
"Well, can you blame him? His scouter probably told him everything he needed to know. He must have seen my battle with Cui." For every step Vegeta takes forward, Dodoria takes another backward. "He must have seen how much stronger I've become."
"That isn't possible." He scoffs. "Those numbers were inaccurate, and I'll prove it!" He shoots an uncontrollable blast of fire at you both, which you simply dodge by stepping out of the line of fire.
"Was that really the best you could do?" You mock. It was sloppy even for an attack from Dodoria.
He turns around, only to be met with the two of you behind him, floating in the air. Vegeta swiftly moves behind him, grabbing both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. You swear you even heard them snap. "Look how weak you are." Vegeta sneers. "I'm stronger than I've ever been. While you've been sitting on your ass all-day, becoming soft and lazy. I should just end your pitiful life here."
"Wait, Vegeta!" He cries. "I have something to tell you! Something you'll really want to know! It's about your homeworld. I know the truth about Planet Vegeta!" Does that pink blob actually believe he has a form of leverage? What a fool.
"What could you possibly know about Planet Vegeta? You better start talking!" You furrow your brows at your brother. He's behaving strangely. And why is he humoring Dodoria in the first place? Vegeta has to already know about what they did to your homeworld.
"I will, but first, you have to let me go." Vegeta releases Dodoria from his death grip, pushing him away.
"Now, spit it out!" You observe the pair from a safe distance. Vegeta's response is bizarre, and his body language seems to have no ulterior motives. Is it possible that Vegeta doesn't know? You grab your forehead, running a hand through your hair. If that's the case, Vegeta is going to fucking kill you.
"As you know, Planet Vegeta was destroyed, but it wasn't by a meteor. Lord Frieza had started to notice numerous Saiyan babies being born with extraordinary combat skills. You two were the most notable in power. He realized that you Saiyans could really be a problem. You had the potential of becoming a real bother to Lord Frieza's regime. So he decided to wipe out the only race that could ever impose him before they could even become an issue. He destroyed Planet Vegeta with every last Saiyan on it. Well, except for you two. Did you really think it was a coincidence that you were off-planet? So there it is, you two are finally in on our little joke."
You've always known what happened to your planet. But now you've learned the answer to an even more substantial question, why it occurred. Frieza was afraid. He decided to take the coward's way out. How pathetic.
You laugh, tilting your head backward. "That was your big ploy? I've known about that for years!" Before he can even react, you teleport behind him, impaling your hand through his chest, watching the purple goop ooze out of him. "How stupid did you think we were?" You twist your hand, tossing his lifeless body to the ground before obliterating anything left of him.
Vegeta stares at you in shock. "You knew?"
You raise a brow at him. "You didn't?" You always assumed that it was one of those things that you both knew but never spoke off. Turns out you were mistaken.
The two of you stand in silence. You have no idea what the protocol is for this. You don't know what you're supposed to say. Vegeta looks away, sighing. "It's irrelevant now. It was probably for the best that I was left in ignorance. Who knows what I would've done as a child. I'm just annoyed that you were able to figure it out before me."
You smile at him. Besting Vegeta is not something that comes easily. So you'll take what you can get. "You know, I don't think he was wrong about the earthlings."
"You think they're here?"
You nod. "You gotta remember. Raditz is with them now."
"Good point. When I get my hands on that pathetic excuse for a Saiyan, he'll regret ever betraying us. Let's go. We can't be out in the open for too long."
He hovers in the air, beginning to take off. "Vegeta." He turns back, meeting your gaze. "You know I would've told you, right?"
"I know---" He cuts himself off, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. "Do you sense that?" You nod, taking off in the direction of the two large power sources. Dodoria had mentioned that they were runts. So one of them has to be the half-breed and possibly the bald fellow. Your eyes scan over the terrain. They have to be around here somewhere. "They must be suppressing their power levels. Only if I still had my damn scouter. I'm not used to this technique just yet."
Bingo. You found them hiding between a few boulders. And your assumptions were right. There's only a slight difference. They seem to be accompanied by a Namkian child. A sadistic grin spreads across your face as their gazes land on you. Just the way you remember them, cowering in fear due to your presence. "You know. It was probably just three insignificant insects." You're not wrong. That's all they are to you. Pesky flies that invade your personal space and make your life slightly more irritating.
"You're right. We don't have time for this anyway. Let's get a move on." You both take off, leaving the earthling issue for another time.
It took you awhile, but you finally located a Namkeian village. Well, actually, you passed several, but this is the only one with a living population. "Looks like we found ourselves a Dragon Ball." Vegeta's lips twist into a sly grin, heading straight into the village. You follow his lead, now standing directly beside him. You've finally gained the attention of the inhabitants, who are now murmuring to each other. Who knew Namekians were such gossips. Their chatter dies down the second Vegeta clears his throat. "I wish to speak to your elder. I believe there is a Dragon Ball here, that we'll be graciously taking off your hands."
"I'm the village elder." An older Namkain steps up. These creatures do not age kindly. "I would ask you what your intentions are, but I can already feel that you are impure. I sense an unspeakable evil in both of you. Neither of you is worthy." What a self-righteous species. They're entirely different from that Namekian you encountered on Earth.
Vegeta shakes his head, chuckling to himself. Only if the Namekians cooperated, Vegeta has never taken the word no very well. "Then you die. Y/N, you do the honors." This could've ended smoothly, with a lot less bloodshed. Too bad for them.
"You got it, Vegeta." You hold up a finger gun, pointing it straight at the elder. "Bang!" A beam of blue light heads straight for the geezer before another Namkian jumps in front of him, absorbing the blast entirely. The body drops to the ground, and all hell breaks loose.
You begin the slaughter, ending the lives of several Namkeians. Until you freeze, as much as you've been itching for a fight, you're reminded of something far more crucial that you have to fulfill. Damn your morals. They're ruining all your fun. You take one last glance at your brother. These Namekians should keep him occupied for some time. He might not even notice that you ever left. As soon as he turns away from you, you take off, successfully staying off of Vegeta's radar.
You use your newly acquired energy-sensing technique to track down that Namekian child. Since those earthlings are suppressing their energy, they'll be much more difficult to find. This is assuming he's still with them. Those earthlings aren't like you. Neither of them would be able to stomach, leaving him for dead.
You pinpoint the energy source to a cave. What a strange place for them to reside in. You head into the cavern, only to find some form of futuristic architecture. How the hell did this get here? And what is Capsule Corp? You move toward the door, banging on it. "Knock, knock. Oh, little piglets, let me in! Before I knock the door down. Or worse." You can overhear faint whispering on the other side, mixed with a woman obnoxiously shrieking. "I can hear you panicking. Relax, I have no business with the half-breed, the Namekian child, or any earthlings in there. Now open the damn door."
The door slowly opens, revealing the bald man, whose name you believe to be Krillin. "What do you want, Y/N?"
"I need to speak to Raditz. It's urgent."
"Well, you can't---" Krillin gets pushed to the ground by none other than the infamous Hair Boy himself. This allows you to step inside the building. It must be some sort of luxury living quarters.
The two of you stand arm's length from each other, matching cold expressions on your faces. "You here to kill me?"
"No." The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Well, at least not yet."
"So why are you here?" His face twists in confusion. "You aren't one to just drop in and say hi."
You take a deep breath, glancing around the room. This would be difficult to say one-on-one, but being surrounded by people makes it ten times worse. "There's something--- I need to tell you."
An arrogant smirk appears on his lips. "What? Did you finally fall for my good looks and charm? Are you finally declaring that you've fallen hopelessly in love with me?"
Your face scrunches up in disgust. "Don't make me ill." That would never happen, even if he was the last male Saiayn in existence, which he pretty much is. "I'm here to tell you the truth about what occurred on Planet Vegeta."
"What are you talking about?" Raditz eyebrows knit together. "A meteor wiped out our people."
You sigh, glancing at the ceiling. "Come on, Raditz. You're a lot of things, but you aren't stupid. There was no meteor. Even if there was one, our people could fly."
"What are you trying to say?" he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shield himself from the inevitable blow.
"Our people were exterminated by that imperialistic dictator." Your voice booms. You're not even attempting to conceal your anger.
Raditz clenches his fists, his hands violently shaking. All he can think about is his mother, how she deserved better. The majority of your people deserved what they got, but not Gine. She was different. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raditz always knew there was no meteor. The story was too perfect, and it was easier to believe that it was a tragedy. "Why?" That was all he could manage to choke out. Did Raditz really want to know? Would he be able to handle the truth?
The others in the room remain silent, observing you anxiously. You're even more terrifying than they believed. You're not joking around or aloof this time. You're only expressing one thing, pure rage. So you do care about something. Whether you desire vengeance or truly cared for your people is unclear to the earthlings.
"Frieza was terrified. Our people were getting too strong for his liking. The Saiyan population was skyrocketing due to technological advancements. He was scared of what we could accomplish, terrified of the possibility that he could be out-ranked."
A Cheshire grin appears on Raditz's face. "We'll prove to him that he was right to fear us, right?"
"You bet your ass we will. We'll make Frieza regret leaving us alive." You take a deep breath, finally attempting to get your emotions in check, returning to your cold demeanor. "I just thought you should know. Before I killed him, Dodoria let the cat out of the bag to Vegeta."
"You killed that pink asshole? It was about time. How'd it feel?" The other stare at you two in bewilderment. Two seconds ago, you were swearing revenge, and now you're as casual as can be.
"It was extremely satisfying sending that pink blob straight to hell." You purse your lips together, cracking your neck. I should get back before Vegeta blows a fuse." You move to the doorway, stopping dead in your tracks. "Oh, ya one, last thing. Frieza's here."
"We know his men are here. We've already had the pleasure of encountering the Frieza Force."
"Raditz, I'm afraid you don't understand. It's not just his minions. He's here on Namek." Raditz chokes on air, his eyes popping out. You slam the door shut, hearing Raditz's reaction through the walls. The phrases we're so fucked, and we're all gonna die were your favorites of his elaborate babbling. You take off, heading back in the direction you came from.
As you near the location of the village, you quickly realize there is no point in returning. You can't sense any life, and that includes Vegeta. So this means he knows you ran off. You were due for one of his famous lectures anyway. Hopefully, he's not wasting his time searching for you. That would only make your predicament worse.
You search in every direction, finally detecting your brother's energy to the west. Vegeta's power level is diminishing at an alarming rate. Maybe he's run into Zarbon or worse, Frieza. You take off at light speed, heading straight for the battleground.
Once you arrive, you conceal yourself behind a hill, observing the battle intently. It appears that Vegeta is fighting Zarbon, but something is off about the narcissist. His chest seems broader than it usually is.
Zarbon turns around, your eyes widening at the ghastly sight. What the fuck happened to his face? He has to be the most hideous creature you've ever laid your eyes on, and there's a lot of competition for that category. This must be an alternate form of his, similar to your Great Ape form. It doesn't surprise you that you've never seen his transformation before. Even though it considerably increases his strength, his vanity has no limit.
The green-haired egomaniac slams your brother into the ground, creating a blazing explosion. He stares down into the water-filled crater, and Vegeta is nowhere to be found. Your brother has gotten especially good at playing dead as of recent.
Zarbon reverts back into his base form, flying off into the distance. You wait an appropriate amount of time before heading toward the teal mass of water. You scan the lake, searching for your brother. He surfaces back up seconds later, desperately gasping for air. You extend a hand to Vegeta, pulling him onto land.
He takes a few moments to collect himself before glaring daggers at you. "Where the--- hell did you run off to?" Despite being winded, he manages to find the breath to shout at you.
"I sensed some members of the Frieza Force. Thought I'd say hello." Believable lies are your specialty at this point.
"You can't---" He stops himself, his features softening at your expression. "Just never do that again. No more running off, especially without telling me. I'm serious this time. With Freiza here, I don't want you leaving my side again."
You can feel a familiar power level rapidly approaching, Zarbon's returning. "Change of plans. Go retrieve the Dragon Ball from that Namkian village. I tossed it in the water. I'll take care of the five that Frieza has."
"But, Vegeta." You giggle. "I'm not supposed to leave your side."
He glares at you. "Of course, now you decide to start listening to me. There is no reason for both of us to get captured. Now go!" You move to camouflage yourself again. Zarbon must need Vegeta for something. They most likely found the decimated village and want to question him about the location of the orb.
You watch Zarbon pick up your brother, who's pretending to be unconscious, and he flys away. You wait till you can no longer see Zarbon before speeding off to the Namekian village. Your plan is to retrieve the sphere and then take shelter somewhere. That is until you can sense Vegeta again.
You land in the ruins that were once the Namekian village. Damn Vegeta, did a lot of damage here. Your head snaps to the water. You swear you heard a splashing noise, and it couldn't have been a sea creature. If it was, the sound would've been louder. So what is it? Could it be one of Freiza's goons? If it is, they're probably weak. You'd be able to take them out with ease.
The creature emerges from the water with the four-star ball in his hands. He's a tiny little thing, way too small to be anyone currently in the Frieza Force. Something about the runt seems vaguely familiar. Wait a minute, that's Kakarot's brat. His hair's just shorter than it used to be. Half breeds must be able to change the length and style of their hair, fascinating.
You sneak behind him with a blank look on your face. "What do you think you're doing, brat?"
Gohan jumps, turning around. "Y/N?" He shrieks, dropping the orb, which you swiftly catch one-handed. He looks around, anxiously searching for something or possibly someone. "Where's Vegeta?" His voice trembles just at saying your brother's name alone. Vegeta must have left quite the impression.
"Vegeta got himself---" You can feel Zarbon's impending presence once again, and the look on the brat's face tells you he can sense it too. This energy-sensing technique is becoming quite tedious, but you suppose it's better than being blindsided. What could Zarbon possibly want now? He already took Vegeta. Maybe he came to search for the Dragon Ball himself? Shit, you can't stay out in the open like this. You grab Gohan in one arm. And the four-starred ball in the other, rushing into a nearby cave. As an extra precaution, you seal the entrance with a boulder. Zarbon may be vain, but he's also significantly brighter than Dodoria was. Though that isn't very hard to do.
You put a finger up to your lips, signaling for Gohan to keep quiet. The foot-steps outside grow louder. He must be standing right outside the cave by now. "Where are you, Vegeta?" He sounds deranged. So Vegeta did escape. Your best guess for Zarbon's erratic behavior is that Vegeta's prison break put Zarbon in hot water with Frieza. "Lord Frieza is going to have my head if I don't retrieve those Dragon Balls." Your insane brother actually did it. He stole the Dragon Balls from right under Frieza's nose. You're father's probably smiling up from hell as we speak.
You slide against the cave wall, dropping to the ground, leaning your head against the rock. You both might be here for a while. Zarbon is quite thorough with his searches. If he were to find you, it would put you in a tricky situation, especially with a Dragon Ball in your possession.
Gohan walks over to you, sitting down across from you. "Who is that?" Even though he's whispering, he's still being too loud for your liking."
"It's Zarbon. Now be quiet." You cover the orange ball in dirt and moss. If Zarbon does find you, the orb will be hidden in plain sight. Once finished with your little project, you shut your eyes. It's almost like you're alone. And not trapped in an enclosed space with your opposition's son.
"Y/N?" Your eyes snap open, immediately narrowing at the boy. You were about to reprimand him, but that was until you noticed the item in his hands. Your features soften as he extends the necklace to you.
You accept the necklace, grasping it tightly in your hands. "Thanks." A slight smile ghosts your lips before quickly vanishing.
"I was just returning what was yours." He looks at you, nervously twiddling his thumbs. "Hey Y/N? Where did you get that necklace from?" You hold up the jewelry, swinging the chain back and forth, getting lost in the memory.
Twenty-something years ago:
You're sitting down on your bed, with a book placed in your hands. Your gaze scans carefully over each word, occasionally flicking your wrist to flip the page. This is the newest piece of literature in your vast collection. You've only had this book for a few weeks. Vegeta gave it to you when he and Nappa returned from a mission off-planet. The book is all about these things called wish orbs. If you gather all seven, you can be granted all sorts of magical wishes. Vegeta says they're nothing more than a fairytale. That it's childish to believe in such an absurd concept, but you're convinced they exist. You've definitely seen stranger things occur, so it's in the realm of possibility for orbs to grant wishes.
You hadn't even noticed that your father had entered your room. Until he was standing directly in front of you. Panic overtakes your body, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide the book under your comforter, even though it was much too late to hide the evidence. Your reaction may seem a bit extreme, but it's for a good reason. Books aren't necessarily illegal on Planet Vegeta, but they are forbidden. Your father believes that literacy is a waste of time. He considers combat training to be more essential to the prosperity of the Saiyan race.
"Relax." His gruff voice invades your ears. "I already know about the various books you hide around the palace." The king is a very observant man, making it extremely challenging to keep things from him. His general policy regarding situations like this is, he won't say anything unless someone brings it to his attention. Then he would be forced to move his hand, having to find a proper form of punishment.
"Is---Is there something you need?" It's not like him to drop by unannounced. Your father is a very busy man, sometimes you won't even see him for months at a time.
"As you know, you're going on a crucial mission tomorrow. Are you going to behave for your brother?" You nod in agreement. "You are also not to leave his side, do you understand me?" Ever since the incident, you're not allowed off-planet without either your father or Vegeta. One of them has to watch you like a hawk at all times because of one stupid mistake. That will probably be held over your head for the rest of your mortal life.
"Yes, sir." You decide to give him verbal confirmation as well. This way, you can avoid any potential lectures.
"Now, let's get down to business. While I was out on my last excursion. I found this piece of junk with my things. I thought I'd check if you wanted it before I destroyed it." He holds up the necklace. The pendant immediately catches your eye. It's one of the pictures from your book, the four-star wish orb.
You nod, accepting the gift. You wrap the chain around your wrist, toying with the trinket. You've gotten pretty good at reading between the lines when it comes to your father. Saiyans aren't meant to express their emotions. You're raised to suppress them. Your father picks up on little things, like the fact that you're currently obsessed with wish orbs. You and Vegeta had to have gotten your conflicting behaviors from somewhere. And that somewhere was your father. The King of all Saiyans, the most ruthless of them all, deeply cared for his children.
He places his hands on your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. His eyes flicker with vulnerability as you stare at him. "Listen to me. Vegeta needs you just as much as you need him. You are capable of things that he isn't. And you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are my sole daughter, the pinnacle of Saiyan pride. Never forget where you came from."
"A-Are you alright? You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, Y/N. Now get to sleep. You have to be up early." He leans down, kissing the top of your head before exiting the room. This only elevates your confusion. Your father has never done that before. Physical affection is not something Saiyan's participate in. At least they aren't supposed to.
Little did you know, this would be the last time you ever saw your father alive. Looking back on it, as an adult, his strange behavior makes sense. This was his way of saying goodbye. He must have had some inkling about Frieza's plans for your race.
You snap back into reality, shifting your gaze to Gohan. Typically when you spaced out, it would irritate your companions. Maybe it would even earn you a scolding from Vegeta. But the kid has just been sitting there, keenly anticipating your response.
"My father gave it to me." Your tone softens. Nostalgia sometimes does that to you. Gohan is the first person you've ever told the origin of your necklace. It wasn't necessarily a secret. You've just never felt the need to talk about it.
Some Final Notes:
"Wasn't he the king, though? Couldn't he have given you a diamond or gold necklace? Or something fit for royalty?"
"He could have. It was more about the sentiment behind the necklace." And with that, the silence returns. Being in this cave really reminds you of your pod. Scratch that it's worse. The brat is just too nice to the point where it's nauseating. For the half-breed's sake, you hope that Zarbon leaves soon. Because you're not sure how much more of this you'll be able to take.
-
Some Final Notes:
I know some of you might think King Vegeta was a bit out of character. However, I believe King Vegeta did care for his children to an extent. I know there’s some confusion in the fanbase about Tarble, whether he’s canon or not. But since the script for Yo! Son Goku and His Friends Return!!! was a concept created by Akira Toriyama. I personally believe Tarble is cannon. So King Vegeta banishing his son, rather than executing him, does show he had empathy for Tarble, even though he was viewed as a disgrace on his entire bloodline.
#goku#goku x reader#saiyan reader#vegeta#vegeta's sister#dbz x reader#dbz fanfiction#dragon ball x reader#dragon ball z#dragon ball fanfiction#son goku x reader
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Is It That You Only Ever Hurt Me? (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)
Pairings: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 2130
Genre: Angst? (It seems less angsty than it should but maybe my mental angst meter is all screwed up)
A/N: I had an idea and I acted on it. I hope it’s okay. It’s a pretty common fanfic idea, but I wanted to try and write one of my own. There is a lot of yelling, but I didn’t want to use all caps for loud yelling because it’s kinda annoying to read. Reader has a quirk that allows them to manifest emotional energy into a type of physical energy (i.e. Thermal, Gravitational, Sound)
Read Part 2 HERE
-------------------------------------
“Why are you so damn clingy all the time?” Bakugo shouted out, alerting everyone in the common room of your current situation. You had these fights with Bakugo quite often, small things that were a little bit annoying. Your ‘clingyness’ was never the topic of any of them. Usually they resolved after you both got over yourselves and apologized, but little did you know, this wasn’t going to be a small fight.
Laughing cruelly, you roll your eyes. You weren’t even being clingy, just asking him if you two could go on a date later, to which he responded that he ‘had better things to do than go out with you’. He should have been grateful that comment didn’t set you off, but of course he had to take it further and call you clingy.
Narrowing your eyes at your supposed boyfriend, you stood there with your fists clenched by your side and the muscles in your face tensed up. It was taking everything you had not to let all of your anger out at Bakugo, because if you did, your quirk would most likely injure everyone in the common room.
Breath. Slowly. Deep breath in,
1. . .
2. . .
3. . .
Exhale. Slowly. Repeat.
“Aren’t you going to say something? Or are you going to just stand there like a dumb bitch?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes.
You let the dam crack, just a little , and the anger dripped out like a faucet. Everyone felt it, and they were all waiting for your anger to cause your heavily emotionally based quirk to lose control.
“You know what?” Your ‘yelling’ was barely above a regular speaking voice right now. You were still trying to protect everyone else in the common room, not losing control fully. Not yet, at least.
“What? Are you going to say something about how I’m an awful boyfriend? About how I neglect you and never want to go out with you?” Bakugo has a smirk plastered on his face, and his smug look makes you want to punch him into orbit.
Your lip is still trembling, and your eyes are starting to water, the overwhelming sense of anger that you felt at the moment spilling from your eyes.
I will keep my emotions in control. I will keep my emotions in control.
You didn’t want to hurt anyone in the common room, especially not Bakugo.
Bakugo steps forward, yelling in your face, “Say something!”
“Fine!” The dam broke. Your quirk causing the anger to become thermal energy, making the room hotter than a sauna. “You’re an egocentric, self-centered, tunnel minded, asshole-”
Bakugo cut you off, starting to yell again in his deep, threatening voice.
“What the hell did you just call me?” Explosions popped in his palms, an intimidating threat to others, but to you, it was just a childish antic of his.
You humored him, starting to repeat what you said earlier. “Do I need to repeat myself? I said you were and egotis-”
He cut you off again, “It was a rhetorical question! I heard what you said the first time! God, were you always this shit brained?”
That one stung a little, but you ignored it and kept going. “Were you always this selfish?”
“You think it’s selfish of me to have a goal? At least I’m better than you! You’re just another damn extra in my way that has an incoviniently powerful quirk. You’re nothing without me,” he laughs and continues. “You’re worse than that half-and-half, icy-hot bastard. At least he uses half of his quirk. You don’t even try to use yours even half way. Maybe instead of asking me to go out again you should train so you can become more than a sidekick to a D-list hero.”
That was it. You thought that you couldn’t get any angrier, but here it was, punching you in the face, begging you to say something offensive back. Bakugo knew why you didn’t want to push your quirk to the max during training. He knew that you constantly had to worry about hurting your friends. He knew, and here he was, using it against you.
“You know exactly why I can’t push my quirk too far during training,” you say, trying to remediate the already out of hand situation, and also trying to push the anger to the back of your mind where it belonged. It suceeded, because the room slowly went back to room temperature, and the students of Class 1A in the common room visibly relaxed.
“I do know the exact reason, and you know what I think? I think it’s a load of bullshit.”
This shocked you. Bakugo was always so supportive of you and understood when you had to hold back sometimes.
“Excuse me?” You ask him, your anger reheating the room, making everyone tense again.
“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said it’s bullshit,” he repeats, emphasizing the ‘bullshit’ part of the sentence.
“You don’t know anything about my quirk! You don’t know how hard it is to con-” Once again he cuts you off. You should have left this conversation ten minutes ago, yet your pride wasn’t letting you. You wouldn’t let him win.
“You always whine and bitch about how hard it is to keep your quirk in control, but the only reason you can’t control it is because you’re a lazy extra who has no goals. You’re weak and a constant pain in the ass, and you’re so damn pathetic that you have to cling to me all the time because no one cares about you if I’m not there,” he scoffs and starts to turn away.
He absolutely does not get the right to walk away from this conversation.
“How could you say that about me?” You ask, tears brimming at your eyes. At this point you were more hurt than angry, but the mixed emotions running through your mind could seriously make your quirk act up.
“Because,” he stops for a moment, as if he’s thinking about his words, “I never loved you.”
Your heart shatters. Dumbfounded, you stare at him, the tears that you held back earlier escaping from your eyes and cascading like waterfalls down your face, the energy of your emotions shaking the room violently. You don’t care though.
“Was any of it real?” You ask, your voice trembling.
“None of it. You don’t mean shit to me,” he speaks at a normal volume for once, something that you wanted him to do more often.
You just didn’t think that it would be in a situation like this.
“I hope you have fun pushing people away Bakugo, because when you get to the top, you’ll realize that it’s pretty lonely up there. Maybe you’ll tell yourself that you couldn’t have both relationships and success, but just know that I would have been with you all the way.” You snap at him, but it’s oddly calm. Taking the finishing blow, you say, “You’re the weak one Bakugo. You’re too weak to show your emotions to others, to pursue things other than your goal to become the number one hero. I hope you’re happy with yourself Bakugo.”
For once, the explosive blonde didn’t have anything to say.
You walk up the stairs, taking your broken energy with you back to your room.
“Bakugo, you obviously upset (y/n). They don’t want to talk to you right now,” Jiro, your close friend, glares at him, and he glares back.
Wordlessly, Bakugo follows you up the stairs, ignoring Jiro’s statement from a minute ago, and presses his ear to your door.
You were crying. Sobbing, actually, loudly, something you never did in front of people, no one except him. Usually you could restrain your emotions, somehing that you learned as a part of your training. He heard you scream, then go back to sobbing, and decided that he needed to apologize now. Fuck giving you time to cool off, he didn’t mean anything he said. Once again, he let his anger get the best of him, and this time, the consequences were too much for him to handle.
“(Y/N), let me in,” he says, knocking at your door.
“God just fuck off Bakugo!” You yell through the door between sobs.
“I didn’t mean anything I said babe. Let’s talk this out okay?” He tries to sound kind, but it comes off as annoyed and it pisses you off to an endless extent.
“I don’t want to talk it out, go away,” you choke out.
Pushing him away was so hard for you. Every part of your heart belonged to him and it hurt so much when he tore it out and stomped the pieces on the floor. It hurt so much when he said he never loved you.
“I love you so much and I didn’t mean anything I said. I was angry for fucks sake,” he’s yelling through the door now, having a hard time keeping his emotions in check.
You swing the door open, your eyes meeting his, and you see a relieved look cross his face.
“Thank god you’re not mad at me. Let’s go on that date you talked about-”
This time you were the one who cut him off.
“I didn’t open the door so you could apologize Bakugo,” you snapped at him, making the infamous Bakugo flinch. “I opened the door so I could tell you that we’re done.”
“You’re fucking joking. Tell me you’re joking,” he yells, the attitude from earlier already rising again.
“All you do is train and pin for that spot at the top. You never were able to make time for me because you thought I would always be there to run back to you. Well news flash bitch, I’m leaving now.” The edge in your voice is tinted with a tremble, and Bakugo notices.
“You don’t fucking mean that.” Bakugo grabs your hand. “I love you so much and I know I never said it enough. I love you and I know you love me too (y/n). Please say it back.”
Bakugo had never begged for anything in his life, yet here he was, completely at your mercy.
“That’s the problem,” you start, “I love you with everything that I have, but all you do is hurt me. The fighting, the yeling, the neglect, and I still run back to you. Tell me Bakugo; Why is it that you only ever hurt me?”
There. You said it back, just not in the way he expected.
Your voice projected through the hallway, filled with agony, longing, and sadness.
He never wanted you to feel like this. He promised to protect you from these types of feelings, yet here he was, making you feel the very feelings that he vowed to protect you from.
Once again, Bakugo was speechless.
“That’s what I thought,” you begin to close the door, laughing darkly, and leaving your hollowed-out soul for Bakugo to look at as a reminder of how royally he fucked up.
As the door shut, Bakugo stood in place, staring at it for hours. When he got tired of standing, he sat with his back to the door, hearing sobs rock you for what seemed like forever
At midnight, Kirishima and the rest of the Bakusquad snuck out of the dorms and came to check on Bakugo.
There was no Bakugo in that hallway.
All they saw was a boy, a boy who had lost something so dear to him that the loss had torn him into two. A boy who had torn down his walls for someone so important to him, only to be crushed by the bricks as it all came crashing down around him. A boy who in the process of destroying the very thing that he loved, had self-destructed himself.
Little did the broken boy know that on the other side of the door, there was another person, a person more broken than he was, a person who despite their heart being torn out and stomped on by the person who they gave it to, still loved the broken boy.
Little did the broken boy know, you also had your back to the door, but you weren’t sobbing anymore, just staring off into the darkness of your room, not even bothering to turn the light on.
He didn’t know you were almost back to back with him, the only thing separating you being the thin layer of the door, until he heard you speak.
You said the same phrase that you said to him earlier, except this time, it was hollow and cold. Despite that fact, it hit the broken boy ten times harder than it did the first time.
“Why is it that you only ever hurt me?”
#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugo#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo angst#bakugou fluff#bnha x reader#bnha#my hero academia#katsuki bakugo x you#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugō#ao3 bakugou#katsuki bakugo fic#katsuki bakugo fanfiction#katsuki bakugo headcanons#my hero academia x you#my hero fanfic#bnha bakugo x reader#bnha au#bnha todoroki#my hero academy fanfiction#bnha x y/n#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader
826 notes
·
View notes