#it’s the worst thing ever when things change so sudden n you’re not given the time to get used to it
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itoshi-s · 2 years ago
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i HATE being stressed w work like .. it’s not even like i’m doin anything hard n straining emotionally but sometimes the smallest things are blown out of proportion
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aanoia · 2 years ago
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Definitely (Dying, pt. 2)
Poly!marauders x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader, Sirius Black x reader
Summary; a failed attempt and a year later, y/n is finally okay
Words; 1,800+
Warnings; srs tw, talk of drug abuse, suicide, self harm, I think that's all
Pt. 1, "Dying"
Really heavy topics, loves, please proceed with caution. I love you all!
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It had been two months. The worst two months of their lives. The Marauders watched from afar as their now ex girlfriend killed herself, and said ex girlfriend had to watch as her lovers sat in each other's arms, basking in each other's presence. It was all too much. She couldn’t take it anymore. 
Today was a rare day where Y/n wasn’t on anything. Her system was clear and a bright smile was on her face. Almost everyone felt uncomfortable about the sudden change, wondering why she was suddenly… okay. Truth is she was the farthest from that that she’s ever been.
“Oh my gosh! Y/n, I love your necklace. Where did you get it?” Lily Evans, one of Y/n’s best friends, asked as Y/n sat down at the table. She sat as far away from the Marauders as she could, which proved difficult as Lily loved sitting next to them.
Y/n smiled and reached behind her head, swiftly unclasping the necklace and dangling it in front of Lily, “Here, have it.”
Lily shook her head, “Oh no, I couldn’t take it.”
“No, I swear it’s fine. It’s not really my style anyway. It’d look much better on you than me.” Y/n insisted and Lily hesitantly took the necklace. 
The thing is, that was Y/n’s favorite necklace. One her mom had given her when she was just a little girl, before she became a disappointment. The Marauders knew that. They shared uneasy looks, confused as to why she would so easily hand over her favorite possession, 
“Awh, that was sweet, Y/n.” Marlene said, admiring the golden necklace that now lay beautifully across Lily’s chest.
“Oh, here. You can have my bracelet. I always see you eyeing it.” She removed the bracelet and handed it to Marlene.
“Oh, thank you, Y/n. How kind.” She said with her brows furrowed.
“Of course.” Y/n responded with a smile.
It had been like that all day. She had given away everything that was complimented and constantly gave people hugs and told them she loved me. It was weird, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t only people close to her that noticed the unusualness either. It was classmates and teachers as well, even the paintings that lined the walls noticed a difference. It left an uneasy pit in everyone's stomach. 
That night, Remus sat at his desk with his hand holding up his head as he was deep in thought. 
James gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Moony? What’s going on in that head of yours?” James asked and Sirius perked up at the question, also wanting to know the answer.
Remus shook his head, “S’nothing.”
Sirius let out a short laugh, “You're full of shit. You’ve got that face. You only get that face when you’re thinking of something.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re right. He does have a thinking face.” James agreed and Sirius nodded.
“I know right, he goes like-” Sirius made an exaggerated facial expression.
“No, that looks nothing like him, dimwit. It’s like this-”  Remus tuned them out as they fought.
He went over every interaction Y/n had had that he witnessed throughout the day. She was acting so strange. Even before all the weed and drugs she never just gave away her possessions. She loved her things and held them close to her heart. So why was she giving it all away? And why was she suddenly showing so much affection? And why now? What changed? And why does Remus feel like he’s forgetting somethin-
Remus shot from his seat, “We need to find her. Now.” He said urgently before running out of the room, the boys paused before running after him, knowing exactly who “her” was. 
Remus hastily knocked on the door of Y/n’s dorm room, hoping she would open the door. Instead he was met with the sleepy face of Lily Evans and soft snores from Marlene who was cuddled up into Dorcas’ side. No Y/n.
“Remus?” She glanced behind him. “Sirius? James? What is it?”
“Is Y/n here?” He asked, dread filling his body.
Lily shook her head, “No, she said she was going up to the astronomy tower. Why?”
“I’ll tell you later, thank you.” He said before beginning to move again, but once they got down to the empty common room Sirius grabbed tightly onto his arm, stopping any movement. 
“Remus, what is going on? Why are you so worried?” Sirius asked.
“I think Y/n’s going to kill herself. The signs add up, giving away valuable possessions, being extra affectionate, and you know how her life is. We need to find her, now.” Sirius and James looked at each other before nodding. Sirius let go of Remus and all three sped to the astronomy tower, spending little to no time to think about not getting caught. Right now it was not a priority, their priority was Y/n.
They raced up the steps, not stopping as their lungs begged for air and legs ached for rest. Remus burst through the door and halted as his eyes lay on a silhouette standing at the edge of the tower, on the other side of the rails.
“Remus?” The figure asked, her voice hoarse and broken.
“Y/n, baby, please. Come here.” He begged as his boyfriends came in behind him.
“Y/n?” James asked tentatively. “Sweetheart, don’t do it.”
“Please, go away.” She asked, tears pouring from her eyes. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Please.” She whispered.
Sirius was the only one brave enough to step closer, “No. We let you leave once already, I won’t let you again.” He took another step.
“No, get away from me!” She cried, her sweaty hands slipping against the cool metal.
“Love.” Sirius said quietly, close enough to whisper to her. “It’s going to be okay, yeah?” She began to protest but he shook his head, shushing her while taking yet another step forward. “No, I know how hard that is to believe. But it will. And I- we- we will be there every step of the way. Come on, love, grab onto my hand.” He said quietly while stretching his hand out.
“I can’t do it anymore, Siri.” She whispered, her legs shaking.
“Yes you can.” He assured her immediately. “You can, I know of it. You are the strongest girl I’ve met. I know you can stay here. With me. And Remus. And James. I know you can.”
“But the weed and-and the alcohol, even if I don’t know, I’ll kill myself!” 
“Then we’ll work together to get sober. Y/n, my love, it’s not impossible for you to be happy. I need you to realize that. You can be happy, and you are worthy of being happy. Now hold my hand, please.” He asked again, tears stinging his eyes. She hesitantly grabbed his hand and let him help her over the rails.
The moment her feet touched the ground of the astronomy tower she collapsed in tears and the three immediately engulfed her in a warm hug. She sobbed in their arms for what felt like hours, but the boys didn’t care. She needed love, and they were going to give it to her. 
Once her cries quieted to small sniffles Remus pulled away and gently placed his hand on her tear stained cheek, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.
“Hey, baby.” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered.
“Whatever for?” 
“Being such a bitch to you guys and pushing you.” She said, her eyes cast downward as guilt filled her body.
“It’s alright, my love. We’ve already forgiven you.” Sirius responded, the boys nodding along with him. 
“We just want you to be okay.” James said, his arms wrapped loosely around her neck as he placed a soft kiss on her temple.
Y/n nodded slowly, “I wanna be okay too.”
“You will be okay.”
A year later, Y/n smiled at Lily as she sat down at the table in the morning. 
“Good morning, Lily, how did you sleep?”
Lily snorted, “I would’ve slept better if a few girls in my dorm didn’t stop gossiping all night.”
Y/n and Marlene looked at each other with smirks.
“Oh, how rude of them.” Marlene said.
“Truly a tragedy.” Y/n agreed, grabbing a piece of toast. “Does anyone know where my boyfriends are?” She asked, looking around the table.
“Probably doing something dumb.” Dorcas said and Y/n nodded.
“I believe it.” 
The doors to Great Hall opened and in walked Sirius Black. He walked to the Gryffindor table and stood behind his girlfriend, leaning down.
“We need you outside, please, Ms. L/n.” He said, sending shivers down the girl's spine.
“Oh, really?” She asked.
He kissed her cheek, “Yes, ma’am. Shall I escort you?” He asked, standing straight and holding out his hand.
She grabbed his hand, “You shall.” She stood up and let out a small yelp as Sirius quickly tugged her along. Y/n laughed as they sped down the hallway, making Sirius smile. Her laugh truly was music to his ears.
The left the castle and Sirius brought her to a little picnic blanket which her other two boyfriends were lounging on while conversating.
“Ah, look at our girl.” James said as he noticed them approaching.
“Guys, what is this?” Y/n asked with wide eyes as Sirius pushed her down gently, urging her to sit.
“Well, I do believe it’s a picnic.” Remus answered with a grin.
Y/n rolled her eyes, “No, I mean what’s it for?”
“Ah, great question. Today marks one year of you being sober, and we wanted to show you how proud of you we are.” Sirius explained and Y/n smiled.
“Guys, thank you. I love you all so much.”
“We love you too.” James responded.
“Oh! Hagrid made a cake. We didn’t ask him too, but he handed it to us and told us to make sure it got to you.” Remus said, handing Y/n a box.
Y/n smiled as she read what was on the cake. 
‘PROWD OF YOU, Y/N!’
“Awh, Hagrid is so sweet.” Y/n said with a large smile.
“We’re proud of you too, by the way.” James said, putting his head on her lap.
Sirius grabbed Y/n’s hand, “I told you you were the strongest girl I knew.”
Pride swelled in Y/n’s chest. She had come so far in just a year. She had walked through hell and came back alive, barely, but still alive. She had cut off contact from her parents, much to their dismay as now their scapegoat had left, however they didn’t put in the effort to keep her around. During the summer before seventh year she stayed in the spare bedroom at the Potter house, going under strict rules of doors open at all times if she and James were together, or any of them if the other two came over. Y/n was more than okay, she was happy. She healed. Was it hard? Maybe. Was it worth it? 
Definitely.
Tag list;
@duruxoxo @mars-marley @siriuslydestiny @gagafatale @lestat-whore @1hornyforfictionalmen1 @megluv1 @takem3tothelakes @fictionalmensblog @ssaspencerreidswife
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seemethroughglass · 1 year ago
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he’s a fool (you’re just as well)
franken!kyle spencer x reader
word count : 5.1K
warnings : fluff, (underage?) smoking, witches, zombies, witchcraft, dark magic, fainting, cooking, witch!reader, mentions of sex/hard drugs
a/n : this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr so if anything is wonky please lmk 😭😭 this fic was first posted on ao3 if you’d prefer to read it below :)
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October 30th, 2013. 3:22 AM.
A faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap lavender scented room spray slid up into your nose and settled in your lungs, holding your breath until you couldn’t stand to anymore. You were back first on the surprisingly comfortable queen sized bed you shared with the 5’10 rotting man-baby, taking up the tight space on the right side you had while he sprawled his arms out, his fingers flexing and twitching ever so slightly haphazardly while he drooled on the pillow that gave comfort to his skull.
Kyle Spencer was dead, and had been dead for a while, is what Zoe told you. You were the newest addition to Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, this sick fuck of a school. Being here wasn’t anything you’d expect, and certainly wasn’t the worst, but the things you’d do just to go back home and enjoy some time alone. In just two months of being here, Zoe had wordlessly decided that you’d become Kyle’s new babysitter, a tentative decision that made you wonder if you’d ever go back to normal. You were in charge of bathing, changing, and feeding him. When you were expecting to be in a school like this, you never saw yourself soaping up a blond boy ever in your life.
It was frustrating taking care of him, especially when he’d lash out at you for not being able to understand him. Similar to the other witches, you’d use your powers in justification, your telekinesis was second nature to you- as you easily threw him back to walls, or shut doors on him. Once, Zoe offered to keep him chained for a bit, but you declined because ‘it felt inhumane’ (ironically).
But like every other young, feeble, and naive witch in your coven, your powers would fluctuate. Anyone would go crazy if they could suddenly hear every single thought someone would think. The good, the perverse, and the twisted thoughts one could have made you feel sick. You remember walking down aisles of the grocery store with Madison, your whole world suddenly felt abnormal, forced into a ubiquitous position as the faint sounds of peoples brain-vomit spilling out of their heads and into your ears. It got so loud, you couldn’t hear her anymore. You just saw her mouth “coke-head” as she continued her shopping. She couldn’t have given any less care to your dazed and frustrated state.
You didn’t feel safe out there.
You flexed your hands and felt the wrapped cohesive bandage around the flat of your hands, and the cotton fingerless gloves shifting around your hands. You hated how gloves felt around your fingers, and decided to take the risk of accidentally brushing up upon someone and sinking in all of what they know. Divination, is the textbook term, but Fiona just called it ‘a gift and a curse.’ This was also a sudden discovery, one that you were ashamed was only found out during a frat party. Never will you ever shake a man’s hand, who knows if they’ve washed their hands after using the bathroom or not? Thank god you didn’t find out anything else, not that you’d want to afterwards.
And I could go on and on about what you’ve discovered in on your own time. Mind control (which, you’re not skilled at- at all), pyrokenisis, reality warping, the ability to fuck around with any object- it all came in at once, in such a short time. Cordelia explained that it was something that all of the other witches had, but yours were forming at a rapid pace compared to the others. Hearing those words, you then forced yourself to a demure and home-bodied state. You thought, if you stayed at home, less shit goes down. You never knew how much you enjoyed the outside until now.
You could go outside whenever, if you just faced your fears and come to the terms that shit happens. You’re a witch, of course you’re gonna have these fucked up powers that show how fucked up every is, but every time you felt the want to leave, you’d only gaslight yourself into crawling back to your room again.
And… a part of you started to actually believe you didn’t find Kyle a nuisance, because he was the only one who stayed. You could tell he wanted to learn something when he was around you, longingly staring at his iPad as AbcMouse played, asking him how to write words like ‘duck’ and ‘cat’. His hands would stay in place, sometimes twitching, as he thought to himself and hesitantly drew letters on his device. There was a man, trapped in a cold husk. Every word he’d speak to you, it stuck, because you knew he was trying.
Did you see yourself in him? No? Yes? I don’t know.
You felt the need to protect, but not a knight in shining armor I’ll-Kill-Anyone-Who-Fucks-With-You-And-Let-You-Eat-Their-Brains-Afterwards protect. The kind of protect that had you letting him sleep inside your room for the night, because you knew if you didn’t then Madison would just push herself on and sleep with him again. Being a witch has shown you the evils of this world, as if the devil let you put 3d goggles on and see every disgusting perspective of others. Remember that one quote that goes something like… “While we are humans, we are animals”?
You felt him stir around in your bed again, the fleshy tip of his nose resting on your sleeved forearm. You started to wonder when he’d move aside, considering he was plumped on a good chunk of your bed. He served no purpose on your bed either, feeling like a cold, rubbery, chunk of meat nuzzling into your warmer skin. Honestly, he was kind of a waste of air, not that you envied him for it though. It made you think, what could he end up being, other than a sex doll or a servant? Everyone thought he was dead, but certainly you can get a job with no ID, no degree, and a high temper, yes?
Okay, right now he *might* be in a tight spot, but hell- you never know. You felt him moving around again, deciding to face him as he shifted his way closer to you, smelling the fabric surrounding your arm. You couldn’t tell if he was awake or not, watching him carefully to see if he’d move again, and once again he did. His eyes fluttered open a bit, before tightly shutting them and taking a deep breath, taking a peek from his rotting eyelids to see your face looking back at his.
This was an unusual morning (or night?) routine from him, because he wasn’t supposed to wake up at this hour. Perhaps the sudden body heat he felt from you awoke him? Doesn’t matter, now he’s awake, and it’s your responsibility to keep him tight lipped and busy until the sun rises. Shit, did you even realize that he was staring at you?
“Kyle… go back to sleep.” You whispered, lightly pushing his head upwards and away from your body. His eyebrows raised up a bit, reacting to your sentence, which sounded like gibberish due to his still drowsy state. You could’ve just talked to a brick wall instead, though, because all he did was prop himself up on the bed and look around. Kyle nodded, looking away from you before moaning a “Mm.. mmn..” for you. He struggled with his words for a minute and then managed to make out a “Mmh-morning.”
You shook your head, wanting to immediately cut the shit short and to tell him to just go back to sleep. But, men (or, zombies in particular) are stubborn and once he was awake, he was gonna stay awake. You internally cursed yourself before mirroring his movements and sitting up yourself, pulling on the comforter to cover yourself as you nodded, wiping your face. “Morning, Ky.” You sighed out, nodding.
You and Kyle usually did your morning routine together, so even though you did stay up all night and you knew it was only a matter of time until you’d fall asleep, you brushed your teeth with him. I guess coffee could keep you awake until 9, right? It was fairly difficult trying to keep him quiet while you brushed his hair and made him breakfast, but the more you talked, the more he took the time to listen.
“Ky, tell me which one you want.” You asked, putting down a carton of eggs on one side of the dinner table and a box of Belgian waffle mix on the other. He took his time, you thought he was going to pick the waffles when he turned to them, but you were a little taken aback when he shook his head. Your instincts made you want to protest, but once you saw his mouth open a bit, you let him try and mumble out his words.
“M…muh…”
“Macaroni?”
He shook his head, got it.
“Mm..hhheaat.”
If Nan was awake, she’d hear you think, “Who the fuck eats steak for breakfast?” until you realized that he was probably talking about bacon.
“Mm, bacon?”
You got back a copacetic nod from him, his breathing quickening up from excitement. You weren’t just going to give him bacon, so you decided to stick with some eggs and toast to go with it too, something the both of you could eat. You fetched the bacon from the freezer and eggs, butter, and bread from the fridge. Kyle kept his eyes on you, not having anything else to distract him with currently. You stayed quiet, indulged in your task of whisking the eggs in a bowl as you heard him try and communicate with you again. You stayed patient, with the mumbling coming from his mouth, but you could tell he felt more confident in this moment.
“Drink, orange.” He asked, looking around the kitchen to see if he could spot anything else to ask for. You turned around, shaking your head at him, “Orange… what, Ky?” you questioned, wanting him to try and finish his sentence. He looked back at your frame, letting out an unsatisfied sigh. “Orange.. jjjuice?” He responded, humming questionably. You turned to him briefly, nodding and pointing at the frying pan. “When I’m done, I’ll give you it, ‘Kay?”
He groaned out, suddenly balling his fist and hitting his thigh, shaking his head. It was way too early (or too late?) for Kyle to be getting upset, as he whimpered out a “N-no! Want- mmh..” to you. “Drink! Orange..! Mm, juice!”
“Kyle, no hitting!” You hissed back at him, letting the frying pan heat up on the open fire. “You use your words, hitting isn’t good.”
You watched as his facial expression softened, following his fists as he rested them back on the table, you could’ve sworn his lips shifted into a slight pout, but he nodded to you, making you realize that he never truly learned how to apologize.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Mmhn..?”
The first time he tried to fight with you, was unforgettable, because it was the same day you had decided to voluntarily keep yourself locked inside the academy. You were just trying to change him, and get him ready for what would become his daily walk, but once you had him stripped to just his jeans and socks, he reacted. You weren’t able to take his jeans off, the minute you were trying to get his buckle off, it’s like realization had hit him. A push and a series of blows to your arms had you covered in hurt and bruises, the room was now episode 8 of a soap opera. God knows why you let him hit you for so long, did you forget you were a witch for a minute? Whatever, Madison wasted no time on flicking him off with whatever supernatural powers she had, his back meeting a wall quick. You felt bad, he didn’t really know any better. You’d start wrestling with anyone if they tried to take your pants off.
Now that you’re thinking about it, how’d she get up those stairs so quick? Isn’t she usually downstairs smoking a cigarette? Speaking of cigarettes, fuck, the smell of this house is starting to get to you.
Ten-ish minutes had passed, and there you were, plating the meal on a large plate that you and Kyle could share. Perks of being a witch? You can just enchant your bacon to defrost in seconds. Usually, Kyle would finish all of his food, but one time he noticed that if he didn’t finish, you’d be eating his plate instead of sticking with just coffee. It’s probably the reason he eats less, honestly, and you can’t really force him to finish all of his food anymore. I guess it’s something you two have silently agreed on, like mutualism. You poured yourself some coffee from the coffee pot, and in another plastic cup you poured orange juice into, for him. It was plastic, in case if he tried to throw it at you… like he did to Zoe (and, to be honest, that shit was hilarious when he missed and hit Queenie).
You don’t talk to him in the morning, you just sit there and watch him watch some Cocomelon, but right now the both of you can’t afford to make any sort of noise. A cranky witch is equivalent to an embarrassed boy, both can end up terribly. Still, it left you bored. There was nothing to talk about, because you can’t really keep up a conversation with someone like Kyle. Your phone was left upstairs, and you didn’t want to go back in fear of Kyle crying out for you and making noise, because it was dark and the only thing giving out light was the chandelier above the both of your heads. I mean, you could teach Kyle some basic vocabulary, but is that really something he was capable of doing while he scarfed down a piece of toast? Wait, wasn’t he supposed to apologize to you earlier? Maybe you can start up something with that.
You watched him chew on a large piece of toast, sending a few blinks in his direction as he paid no mind to you. Trying to get his attention, and prevent him from choking, you pushed the orange juice closer to him. Your nonverbal communication got to him, as he glanced back up to you and then looked down and took a sip from the glass. You waited until his mouth was empty to speak.
“Kyle?”
He looked back up at you, his eyebrows raising up again. He hummed, waiting for you to say something.
“…We don’t hit things in this house, unless someone else is hitting us, right?”
He blinked, his eyes slanting a bit, was he starting to get mad again? He nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink. “Yes.” He responded with, there was absolutely no stutter or hesitation in his voice, maybe the others had already tried to educate him on that?
“Do you know what sorry means, Kyle?”
Once again, brickwalled. Jesus, what a poker-face. Maybe this is why people want to be a mind reader, hm? You had never felt scared of him before, and still hadn’t, but this interaction definitely made you tense up a bit. He could be a hell of a guard dog. God, you’re starting to sweat, calm down. Enough thinking to yourself, get to the point, because he’s obviously not gonna give you an answer.
“You know… when you do something bad, and it hurts people? It makes you… feel bad?” You asked, inhaling. He quickly nodded, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. You nodded with him, deciding to ease up and take a sip of your coffee. A couple seconds of silence passed, and then you spoke again. “You say sorry, when you do bad things. I want you to say sorry.”
From an outsiders point of view (specifically Fiona, you could just picture it) they’d be laughing at the awkwardness of this conversation. Kyle didn’t know what awkward was, though. He took every word you said like it was, nothing felt personal to him. It gave you comfort, he had no high ego that could make him feel bad. Sure, he’s sensitive, but he had morals and a decent level of understanding like you did. Let me ask you again, did you see yourself in him? Someone who was once normal, thinking they had known enough, now forced to start from the top and had to adapt to what they had now. Shit, is that why you had to take care of him?
Naaah, you’re just overthinking it.
“Suh… orry. Sorry.”
“Good! You said it.”
“Mmhm..! Sorry!”
The difference between you and him? He was a quick learner. You, on the other hand, didn’t want to learn. You wanted to be normal, or at least control what you had (well, actually, doesn’t he want to also?). I mean, it’s been a while since you’ve tried controlling your own powers. It felt better helping him than helping yourself, hasn’t it? I don’t blame you, teaching someone basic math is muuuuch easier than trying to figure out how to make your bed float.
Kyle went back to eating after his successful lecture from the oh-so greatest but stopped after he finished his orange juice. There was still a bit on the plate, a piece of toast and a piece of bacon to be exact, as he looked up at you and then glanced back at the plate. “D…done.” He stated, grinning softly at you. He knew you were going to take the rest and finish it, and that’s exactly what you did. You nodded back at his words as you ripped the toast in half, chewing on your piece. For a dead guy, he’s pretty considerate. Makes you wonder how he was when he was alive, to be honest.
I think… you’ve only heard mentions of Kyle on the news, only when he had died. Words like… sweet, and caring, and friendly were on his memorial outside of that frat house. Shit, what was that frat’s name again? Kappa… whatever, they’re all the same, honestly. Maybe you’ll ask Zoe when she wakes up, I mean, she did bring him here.
After finishing the scraps that Kyle had left you, it was time to go back into your room. You didn’t hold Kyle’s hands up the stairs, you let him walk first, just to see if he could control his mobility first. You felt like you were starting to sweat, anyways. He stopped walking after a couple of steps and turned around to face you, only walking up again when you silently urged him to keep going up. It seemed like he got a bit weirded out by the fact that you weren’t walking up with him, he must’ve gotten used to holding onto you. Aww.
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4:38 AM.
This should be about the time Cordelia wakes up, and starts working on whatever potion she has in her laboratory. Kyle was occupied with… himself, actually. He had discarded the iPad earlier, seemingly grown bored of AbcMouse and instead laying on his side, tracing unintelligible patterns on the hard wooden floor. He must be thinking to himself, you imagined. You were sitting on your bed next to an open window, starting to feel sick from the house-air. Did someone smoke, or was everything feeling nauseous to you? Ugh, you decided to start fanning yourself with your own hand.
You glanced back at Kyle, watching as his index finger dragged along the floor, collecting dust and a smidge of dirt from the floor onto his fingertip. You look a long sigh, spacing out and no longer focused on Kyle, just whatever he was trying to accomplish with his finger. K… X… L… E. Wait, that must’ve been a Y then? He was spelling his name, simply reminding himself. It felt good knowing that whatever he was learning on that device was working, but once you took another breath, your sliver of happiness faded with the smell. God… it felt like it was getting stronger.
There’s definitely something wrong in this school.
You didn’t have to wait longer to make up your mind, you had to go outside. Shuffling around and closing the window for caution of bugs getting in while you were gone, you set your bookmark in your book and slid off the bed. You tapped Kyle with your foot, raising your eyebrows and speaking a bit more faster. Your stomach felt… uncomfortable.
“Ky, cmon. We’re gonna go for a walk.”
“Mm?”
You didn’t have time to explain to him, but a part of you knew that he understood you. He’s not that… what’s the word? You pulled up your gloves and held your shielded hand out, trying to help him up. He groggily pulled himself up, following closely behind you with his hand sliding up to connect to the crook of your clothed arm. You walked down the stairs with him, hearing a faint whisper around the school. Cordelia… was awake? But why would she be near the living room?
When you peeked your head to look in the living room, she wasn’t there.
And when you walked around with Kyle, trying to find her to see what she could be muttering about, nothing. Odd, you decided to walk around more, but the more you wandered around you only felt more sick. Your little steps became into large, rushed power-walking steps. Something was wrong, if you couldn’t tell now. You went to her office, which was usually tidy and salubrious but seemed to be that she was working on something, at least you finally found her. The smallest amount of rational thought in your mind told you to not run outside of the house, but instead find her and ask her for some Advil or Tylenol, this had to be a migraine.
“Misty Day’s reincarnation might be a good help with this… if only she wa- what was that?”
Cordelia’s voice got louder as you stumbled into her office, she immediately turned to you, puzzled by your off-colored face and the sweat rolling down your forehead. She stayed quiet, letting you speak first. It was only then, you realized something.
“Why is Kyle here?”
But Cordelia’s mouth wasn’t moving. She wasn’t even talking.
I can’t really explain how you look like… but a good word is stunned. You stood there, looking around the area a bit as you fanned yourself with your free hand. Kyle was still behind you, his hand feeling up on the black woolen arm warmer you had on.
“Cordelia… ohmyfuckinggod..”
“Yes, dear?”
“Why is she awake? Go to bed. Why is Kyle here? Will nobody that boy alone, for fucks sake?”
You scoffed, a tad offended by her unspoken words. You wiped your forehead, shaking your head. “Something’s happening… Cordelia. Fuck, you’re so loud.” You breathily announced, letting go of Kyle and wiping your eyes. Your stomach started to hurt more, Jesus- you felt like you were about to throw up.
“I’m sorry?”
You walked over to her, discarding Kyle and his starstruck face as he looked around at the pretty colors and herbs around Cordelia’s little coven. For him, this was definitely a sight to see, getting a good look instead of crying over his new body parted tattoos, curtsey of his deceased friends. You stood in front of her, a hand placed on your stomach as you spoke, the acrimony rushing through your veins.
“The- the mind reading stuff. I can hear you… oh mygod- How do I make it stop? Fuck- my stomach hurts so much, ohmygod..”
And as her hand came to your clothed shoulder, she looked at you in the eyes with a concerned stare. “You’re hearing things again? Come here, sit down.”
She took you by the shoulder, walking you to a small wooden stool from the side of the room. Kyle, distracted by the sudden movement of you two, followed you closely once again.
“Cmhere, let me check your temperature.”
She took her hand up, and as her hand came up to your forehead, you felt your world burning around you and coming to a close. The heat was too much for you, and once her hand made contact with your bare skin, it went dark.
Well… not exactly dark.
-
5:12 AM.
Fuuuuuuck.
You must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the… couch?
Too early for jokes? Okay, sorry.
Your forehead felt completely cold, your drowsy eyes registering that you were staring up at the ceiling. Ugh, how long has it been? You brung your fingertips carefully up to your head, feeling on the rough ice pack on your forehead. When you pulled it off and placed it on the floor, you came to realize it was just frozen peas. Classic, actually- super fucking funny. You half-laughed, a closed mouthed smile forming on your face. Right… Cordelia must’ve put that on you. Where was she?
A sudden realization came to you, Cordelia touched your forehead. Shit, you’re supposed to know something, right? That mind reading thing that you have… what can you remember?
“…Cordeliaaa?” You called out, wondering where she was. Suddenly, a little- well, more like big- blonde guy popped up from behind the couch, squeaking a bit from your voice. You turned around, looking behind the couch and feeling surprised once you realized that Kyle was just behind the couch. He was sitting up now, with a cup of… sweet tea? He turned to you, his nose crinkling with his grin as the male cheered your name out, a sugary tone to his voice. He wiped his eye with the side of his hand, making it evident that he had been asleep also. He picked up the sweet tea from the ground, standing up and looking down at you, handing you the cup. The ice cubes in the drink had shrunken, almost barely noticeable.
“Hi, drink!” He chirped, watching you take the drink and take a sip out of it. Damn, not bad. You silently thanked him, the ineffable act of him waiting for you left you a little too speechless for your liking. You cleared your throat, speaking up. “Thanks, Ky’” You murmured, unable to hide the corners of your mouth turning upwards. “Your welh-welcome.” He replied, nodding. You placed the sweet tea on the table, exhaling out of your nose. He walked over to your side, away from the back of the couch, trying to help you up. You put your hands on his shoulders, shaking your head. “No… nah- I’m good. I’m gonna… sit down still.”
You heard Kyle think “Why?” as he stared at you for a bit, but he nodded and left you alone. He lowered himself to the ground, flinching once he had accidentally made contact with the peas. “Cordelia?” You called out again, turning away to the sound of her footsteps walking up to you. Her eyebrows were raised, and her arms were up in an… almost defensive state? She crossed her arms, calming down and lightly rubbing her right bicep with her left thumb. She spoke your name in a effervescent way, relieved to see you awake.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” You asked, referring to her anxious thought. You could tell she was trying to not think as much, whispering to herself before shaking her head. “Nothing… um- actually, I need to know, what did you… see?” She prevaricated, running her fingers through her hair. You looked down, thinking to yourself a bit and then back at her. Suddenly, your eyebrows knitted into realization, looking back up at her.
“Did you… toss the coffees I made for you?”
Cordelia stood there, also looking dumbfounded by your conclusion. She smiled, nodding. There was no point in lying anymore, I mean- you already knew. She sighed in relief, chuckling.
“Okay… yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“Dude- I thought you liked my coffee.”
She ignored your words, walking over to you and putting a hand on the inside arm of the couch. “I’m glad you’re okay. I did some… tests- and, um, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine for now.” She expressed, feeling a little more confident as she spoke. “Just… don’t stay cooped up in this house. I know your powers are getting stronger, but you’re probably dealing with some major stress.” All you could do was nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She nodded back at you, pulling her hand away from the coffee and walking backwards for a bit, turning away.
“Delia.”
She turned back, raising her eyebrows. “Pleaaaase don’t ask me.“ She mentally spoke to herself, leaving you to close your eyes for a brief moment, but you brushed her thought aside.
“Uh… why… don’t you like my coffee?”
“I’m a tea person.”
“Oh… crap.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She spoke, walking out of the room. You sighed, your attention going back to Kyle, who was once again tracing patterns on the floor. He glanced up at you, pausing his actions and deciding to rest his cheek on the couch. He blinked at you a bit, expecting you to say something. You placed a hand on his scalp, moving around his bed (well, floor) hair to make it look more neater.
“So nice…” His blissful expression matched his imagination, shuffling closer to let you touch his hair. Your fingers stayed still while in his blonde locks, sighing. You definitely didn’t expect him to think that, but you definitely weren’t opposed to it. You carried on, carefully grooming him some more. Your brain went blank, not really worried on what was going to happen next or what you had to do later today. Just you, fixing a zombie’s hair, while the sun was getting ready to rise up and shine on you. Just complete nirvana. You pulled your hand back, wondering if there was anything else to smooth out or tuck away. Kyle looked up at you, probably expecting the same thing.
“So pretty.”
Oh.
You couldn’t help but smile, keeping your eyes on him as his soulless eyes crinkled with his crooked smile. You blinked, and then cheerfully sighed.
“Thanks.”
Kyle nodded, grabbing your hand and then putting it back on his head. Wait… he grabbed your hand? Damn, you couldn’t see anything about him, guess it must’ve went away…
Or, maybe, he just didn’t hide anything from you?
You’ll just have to poke Cordelia again to see why.
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l-y-e-a · 2 months ago
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Stranger Things - Fic recs
Eddie Munson
Take the edge off by @ohcaptains Summary: You’ve been seeing Eddie for a couple of months now. still, you’re not always able to voice your desires -- don’t worry though, Eddie’s able to read you like a book.
Rumors pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 by @offictionandfandoms Summary: Eddie overhears Jason saying the reader and him kissed and he believes it.
Dancing with myself pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7 - pt. 8 - pt. 9 - pt. 10 by @ambrossart Summary: Eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, Chrissy Cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend.
Gentle with me pt. 1 - pt. 2 by @swingsuckerswing Summary: Reader asks Hawkins High’s favorite freak to deflower her before they graduate. Reader has had a crush on Eddie since forever and only trusts him to do it right. Unbeknownst to her, Eddie has also been crushing hard. He takes extra special care of her
Tell me a secret by @siempre-bucky Summary: A classic tale of idiots to lovers. The school freak who was surprisingly good at math agrees to tutor Hawkins High royalty, the Vice President who's on the verge of failing.
The angel and the devil by @farfromharry Summary: The two of you met at a halloween costume in polar opposite outfits. What started as Eddie being a gentleman and helping out a drunk girl, turned into a rapidly blooming crush. He believed it to be one sided after he thought you were avoiding him, but you were falling hard too, just too shy to admit to the guy you nearly puked on that he was kind of cute.
Safe pt. 1 - pt. 2 by @loeyparker Summary: You and Eddie see each other for the first time after you broke the friendship to protect him from the upside down.
Strange love by @strangermarvelss Summary: Eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it
Bottled up by @lilacletter Summary: Eddie knows you like to pretend like nothing is wrong all the time. but when it all comes crashing down he’ll be there. every single time.
You made me hate this city by @marvelsswansong Summary: It was just a stupid bet. A way to prove Jason and his asshole friends wrong, to finally get under the blonde's skin. It was never supposed to end with Eddie falling in love, nor with him laying on your doorstep with bruised knees, begging for your forgiveness.
I'm not in love by @gwndolnfrankln Summary: As the photographer of the school's journalism club, you were given a task to take pictures of the hellfire club for the highschool yearbook. When everyone notices a sudden change in eddie munson's demeanor the night of the campaign, it may or may not have something to do with you.
Damn prejudice pt. 1 - pt. 2 by @itsoutrageouss Summary: Reader is new maybe they sit at the clubs table unintentionally, and Eddie comes off as rude or pushy and unknowingly hurts the readers feelings getting them to avoid the whole table and the next day Eddie apologizes after finding them in the woods crying.
Maybe it's inevitable by @ezm-imagines Summary: You build up the courage to finally ask Eddie on a date! But he thinks you’re just trying to buy drugs.
Just go with it pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 by @chimmyboii Summary: When Eddie is humiliated by Jason in the school cafeteria, cheerleader Y/N L/N decides to step in.
Post-modern, so satanic by @puckwritings Summary: You and Eddie have been dating for a while, and he notices your interest in his handcuffs. it turns out you really, really like it when he’s mean & scary.
Dumplin? by @rainylana Summary: The stress of a new baby has your relationship at the worst it’s ever been, and Eddie’s past childhood is worrying him sick about becoming a father.
Forbidden fruit pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 by @pedgito Summary: Something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though Eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.
The other Wheeler pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 by @sunflowergirl522 Summary: You’re normally the forgotten Wheeler to anyone other than Mikes friends but Eddie is captivated by you upon first glance.
I fucking hate you pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 by @strangerthedevil Summary: Reader is trying to recover from whatever tf happened yesterday and Eddie is getting a little too jealous seeing reader with other guys.
Movie stars by @ddejavvu Summary: Distracting Jason Carver means a lot of flirting, and Eddie isn't too happy about seeing his best friend hanging off of the star basketball player. Jealousy ensues, but will it ruin your friendship?
Eddie misses something important and breaks his promise by @indouloureux Calling Eddie by his name by @bunnywritesmarvel Shy!reader around Eddie's friends by @elliewlums Unexpected by @loveronlineee Family by @silent-stories Don't go away mad by @oneforthemunny
@luveline ↓
If it barks Eddie hits you during the naughty, but you're not up for it Shy!reader interrupts hellfire too much
@lovebugism ↓
Toxic people on Christmas eve eddie (accidentally) rejects shy!you when you ask him out eddie loves giving his shy!gf compliments steve and eddie vs aftercare (18+)
@moonstruckme ↓
Eddie can tell when you're feeling down Dealer!Eddie asks you out Eddie comforts you after a scary movie
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Steve Harrington
@luveline ↓
Shy!reader x Steve at a BBQ Shy!reader wants affection Steve makes sure you pee afterwards
@lovebugism ↓
Steve makes ditzy!reader upset shy!you has a hard time adjusting after starcourt steve and his shy gf spend a morning together steve and eddie vs aftercare (18+)
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Jim Hopper Losing your virginity to Hopper by @pinkandblueblurbs
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xhopelesslyromanticx · 3 years ago
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Virginity - Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader
This is my first time writing smut, so bare with me. Also this is kinda an emotional rollercoaster.
Request: trent one where they’re losing their virginity to each other, or just one of them, i don’t know, you decide
Masterlist
Warnings: 18+, smut, explicit language, alcohol and also Mason Mount being kind of an asshole
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The wind was blowing through your hair as you rode your bike on the wooden bridges over the almost artifically looking water. Breathing in the crisp air as you enjoyed yet another beautiful morning on the Maldives.
„Can you actually slow down?“ Trents voice ripped you out of your day dreaming as you looked back at the guy struggling to keep up with you. You chuckled, shaking your head at your best friend.
„Nah, come on Trent!“ you laughed, slowing down your bike with your foot as you stopped and waited for the guy „Zero physicality!“
Trent stopped next to you, wiping the sweat of his forehead and holding his heart with his left hand as he groaned. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in pain „On the bike maybe but you should see me elsewhere.“
You blushed, watching the guy try to catch his breath. Not a hundred percent sure if he was aware how sexual that sounded. But seeing him like this you couldn’t help but picture it. God Y/n! Stop it he’s your best friend.
Feeling kind of ashamed about your thoughts you continued your day on the absolutely magical island and after a long day of swimming and laying on the beach Trent and you got ready for dinner in your bungalow. You were gonna meet up with some football friends of his, who had just arrived on the island that day.
„Do you like this?“ you asked Trent, who was sitting on some sort of swing and scrolling through his phone.
The whole room was a mess, your clothes basically everywhere. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly the tidiest person but Trent was used to it by now. He had also given up on cleaning up after you a long time ago.
Trent was your best friend since basically forever. You two had grown up together and you knew basically everything about each other. Having gone through all the stages in your life together. It was nice to always have someone by your side. You always said you two were soulmates. Just in a different kinda way.
Trent looked you up and down biting his bottom lip as he mustered your body hugging red dress.
„Yeah, I mean it’s lovely.“ he stated, nodding as he scanned you up and down.
„Lovely?“ you whined, dissapearing into the bathroom again.
„Yes. That’s a good thing!“ Trent squealed, following you as he stood in the bathroom door watching you change for the hundredth time „Why are you even making a big deal out of this? It’s just a normal dinner.“
You rolled your eyes, trying to unzip your dress. The guy sometimes could be just a tad oblivious when it came to these things. Dinner? With his hot football friends? Duh.
„Yeah but you know.“ you shrugged your shoulders, trying to keep from blushing „Mason might there.“
„Nah seriously.“ Trent groaned, leaning his head back against the wall „You still onto this whole Mount thing?“
„Like every girl in England?“ you giggled, not getting why he was acting like this as you walked up to him. You turned your back towards your best friend, looking at him over your shoulder „Can you please unzip me.“
„But… Nah.“ Trent sighed, holding your hair up gently before starting to unzip your dress „I just don’t think he’s the type you’re looking for. He’s a total player.“
„Seriously Trent.“ you chuckled as he hopelessly struggled with the zip „It’s not like I’m looking for a relationship. I just want to… you know. Finally get it over with.“
Trent didn’t say anything. He knew what you were talking about. He knew you were still a virgin. It wasn’t that big a deal to hi, all though you always acted like it was the worst thing ever. He just didn't see your sudden rush. In his mind this was supposed to be something special, that you do with someone you knew and trusted.
You stood there as Trent finally managed to fully unzip your dress. The akward silence confusing you.
„Thanks.“ you smiled awkwardly, dropping your dress to the floor again as you walked back over to the sink. Deciding you finish your makeup before picking out your dress as you still had no idea what to wear.
Your best friend watched you do your makeup, wearing nothing but white lace underwear. He swallowed as he studied you, he didn’t want Mason to touch you that was for sure but he knew he had no right to feel this way.
But something must have gotten into him in that moment as he did something really stupid next. Trent slowly walked up to you as you watched his movements through the mirror, confused by his silence. But his eyes didn’t meet yours. Was he looking at your butt?
His hand made contact with your shoulder and next thing you knew his fingers started tracing over your skin. As he slowly and softly caressed your body. You froze putting down your makeup brush, not daring to breath.
Trents lips met the skin on your neck as he started kissing you. At first his kisses were shy and soft but soon he became more confident. Eagerly wrapping his arms around your torso as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. At first you felt weird and nervous but shortly after that turned into pleasure. You threw your head to the side, allowing him more space as you closed your eyes.
You moaned softly feeling his body pressed up against yours. His hips slightly grinding against you causing friction between the two of you. And then you really felt him, you felt his hard on press against your back. It made you feel kind of powerful knowing he had just gotten hard for you and so it gave you the confidence to do what you did next.
You put out your hand behind you, Trent to distracted by kissing you. And when your hand met his clearly hard manhood he suddenly stopped. As you touched him through his pants the guy had to stop himself from not immediately giving in.
You quietly turned around seeing he wanted to say something but before he could you put your index finger against his swollen lips „Shh…“
Silently you got down on your knees in front of him, Trent watching your every move in awe. You unbuttoned his pants as he took a sharp breath in, feeling your fingers touch his skin as you ran them along the hem of his briefs.
You smiled proudly as you saw he had his eyes closed and looked like he was actually enjoying this. His hands buried in your hair as he ever so slightly guided you towards him while pressing his lips together. You knew this took him a lot of self control and it amused you.
So you pulled down his underwear ever so slowly revealing his already hard cock. Staring at it for a second before you ran your fingers up and down his length. You had seen Trent naked before but it was just never this close to your face. So you had to take some time to take it all in.
You started licking the tip of his cock with your tongue and then without thinking twice you started taking him into your mouth using your hands for help as you did what your instincts told you to do. Your hand continuing to pump up and down his shaft while you started bobbing your head.
Trent was muttering under his breath as he tried to stop himself from moaning. He slowly opened his eyes, looking down at himself. And when he saw you sit there, looking so innocent even though his dick was literally inside of you. He couldn't help but start to freak out.
„Stop! Stop!“ Trent frantically yelled and you of course immediately stopped your movements. You were startled by his sudden yelling but before you could do anything Trent pulled himself away from you, taking a step back.
So you just sat there confused and half naked on the cold bathroom floor as you watched Trent curse under his breath his back turned towards you. He leaned himself onto the wall, supporting himself with his arm, his head hanging low.
You stood up shakily, not knowing what to do or say. Wrapping your arms around your naked body, feeling uncomfortable before carefully walking up to your friend.
„Trent?“ you whispered, trying to get to see his face but he didn't allow you to „Are you okay-“
„No I’m not fucking okay.“ he hissed as you jumped slightly. He never yelled at you like this. It freaked you out.
„I’m sorry.“ Trent sighed, shaking his head as he stared at the white wall „Can you please just give me a minute.“
You didn’t say anything, too humiliated by this whole thing. You just walked out the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. Trent knew he had hurt you. He felt incredibly bad about it but it was too late now.
It took Trent about five minutes to finish himself in the bathroom. It hadn’t been for pleasure at all but he had to get rid of his erection somehow. All the while you sat on the bed in the bungalow with crossed arms, hearing his mutters from the bathroom.
After a while you decided you couldn’t stand to hear him any longer, so you just grabbed some blue dress that was laying nearby and put it on before heading out the bungalow. You didn’t feel great at all. You felt like literal shit after that.
When Trent came out the bathroom with the intention to talk to you he was not suprised to see you had left. He knew he had just been a real asshole. He just wished he could turn back time and undo everything.
„So are you like a relationship kinda girl or something?“ Mason asked as he grazed your bare thigh while you sat next to him on the lounge. A drink in your hand as you cozied up to him feeling the warmth of his breath against your face.
After having dinner with Trent and his friends, alongside some of their girlfriends and whatever girls Foden had brought, you had ended up at some sort of bar lounge. The whole evening you had downed drink after drink, trying to forget about what had happened. But it wasn't easy as Trent literally was staring you down all night.
It was probably the alcohol that made you throw yourself onto Mason like you had. He totally had the wrong idea of you but you didn’t care. You just wanted to hurt Trent the way he hurt you. Plus Mason was quite attractive and actually a fun person to be around.
„Mhmm…“ you giggled, taking another sip of your drink before licking your lips „No of course not.“
Mason bit his lip as his hand wandered up to your butt „Good.“
He then leaned in smashing his lips onto yours as he eagerly kissed you. The kiss was kind of sloppy and rushed but he was equally as wasted as you, so that explained why. To everybody else this probably looked disgusting.
The guys were laughing and talking around you, none of them even bothered by you and Mason making out in between them. Well, none of them except Trent. He gripped his glass of water, not in the mood to drink as he watched you and Mason basically eat eachother up.
His blood was boiling as he clenched his jaw. He had watched Mason and you all night and hated every minute of it. The way you laughed at his jokes and touched his knee. The way Mason looked like he was mentally fucking you from the minute he heard the sound of your beautiful voice. The way he touched you with only one thing in his mind.
It was so obvious what he wanted to do. He wanted to fuck you and then never hear from you again and it made Trent sick to his stomach. Because this wasn’t just some random girl. This was his best friend. This was you.
„I’m gonna go to the toilet.“ Trent yelled at Jack Grealish, who had been whining into his ear about his relationship problems all night. Trent didn’t listen to any of it, knowing that the guy was also super drunk and he actually also didn't care that much.
He angrily made his way through the people as he couldn’t handle the whole thing for another second. He needed to calm down and there was no way he could when seeing Mounts tounge down your throat.
„I have an idea.“ Mason slurred, pulling away from you completely out of breath.
„What?“ you giggled, licking your lips as your hand were buried in his now messy hair.
„Let’s go swimming.“
The cold water hit your naked skin as Mason wrapped his hands around thighs, carrying you into the ocean. You looked at his face only lit up by the moon, realizing what you were doing. This was probably taking it a step to far with the whole getting back at Trent thing.
But you didn’t have much time to think because soon enough Masons lips were on yours again. His tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while his naked body rubbing against yours and just before you could even comprehend you could feel him press against your leg.
Bad situation to tell someone you’re a virgin right? But you wouldn’t even have to because what you didn‘t know was that, just about a hundred meters away from you, Trent was absolutely flipping out.
„Nah I‘m not gonna calm the fuck down!“ he yelled at Declan who was trying to get him to stop making a scene „They were both absolutely wasted, you can’t just let them go off like that!“
„Jesus Trent!“ Jack slurred, taking a sip of his beer as he leaned into his lounge chair „They’re both adults. I think they are old enough to know what they’re doing!“
„Yeah, plus it’s Mason.“ Phil chuckled, sitting there with two girls cozied up to him on each side „He‘s probably just fucking her in some corner that’s all.“
Trent looked at the guy who had a disgusting smirk on his face. His blood was now boiling and there was just nothing stopping him. He grabbed Phil by the collar of his shirt, angrily pulling him out of his seat.
There was immediate uproar at the physical interaction but Trent couldn’t be bothered „Where the fuck are they Foden?“
Phil looked at Trent, shocked at the guys sudden extreme anger. He tried to push him away but failed miserably as he stuttered „Yo what the fuck Trent.“
„Tell me where they are!“ Trent hissed, shaking Phil a little as everyone around them froze.
„They… They said something bout swimming. I don’t know honestly.“ Phil stated, clearly scared of Trent as he tried to free himself from the older guys grasp.
The guys where all just watching the whole ordeal in confusion. They didn’t understand why Trent was so mad. But of course most of them put two and two together figuring this whole thing must be about you.
Trent pushed Phil back into his chair as the girls dramatically screamed. Phil jus looked absolutely horrified that he had almost gotten his ass beaten in front of everyone.
The Liverpool player shook his head, cursing under his breath. How could they have allowed two drunk people go swimming all alone. It was totally irresponsible.
You were still in the middle of making out with Mason when you heard a loud voice yelling your name.
„Y/n! Mason! Get the fuck out of the water now!“ Trent stood by the beach, in complete darkness as he watched Mason and you.
His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenarios as he prayed this wasn’t as bad as it looked like.
„Did you hear me Mount!“ he yelled again, seeing you two look at him in confusion „Get her the fuck out!“
„What’s his deal?“ Mason groaned, mad that Trent had interrupted the moment.
You rolled your eyes, shrugging your shoulders as you untangled yourself from Mason. He just looked at you confused before following you out of the water.
Trent standing there like a dad with his arms crossed watching the two of you get out the water. He felt a little relieved to see you were still wearing your underwear.
You took a sharp breath, shaking your head as you approached the guy. You mouthed him a little „What the fuck?“ as he pressed your blue dress against your chest. Your faces only inches apart „Put your clothes on.“
„Honestly Trent fuck you!“ you hissed, ripping your dress out his hands. Who the fuck did he think he was?
He was lucky that you were actually glad he had pulled you out this awkward situation. Knowing things would have gotten real uncomfortable soon.
You shivered slightly before turning around to look at an absolutely stunned Mount standing there „What the hell is going on?“
Trent clenched his jaw looking at the dripping wet and half naked guy. He wanted to punch him so bad.
„So are we like not going to fuck now because of Mr. Liverpool over here?“ Mason blurted out, crossing his arms as he watched you try get your dress on. Oh god, guys were so dumb sometimes.
„Shut the fuck up.“ Trent whispered, his blood boiling as he tried to remain calm. Not wanting to start another fight.
„What did you just say Arnold?“ Mase walked up to Trent, obviously trying to provoke him „What’s your problem huh?
Trent pushed Mason back a little, signaling him to fuck off. Of course this made Mason even more mad and he pushed Trent right back.
„Stop.“ Trent tried to calm down as Mason continued to push him.
„No I wanna know what your god damn problem is!“ Mason yelled and you just stood there watching the whole thing in shock, struggling to get your dress on your wet body.
„My problem?“ Trent hissed, pushing Mason one last time and this time a little harder „My problem is that she’s a virgin and you can't just fuck her and not care!“
Masons face immediately went blank as you closed your eyes in embarrassment. No Trent, was that really necessary.
The Chelsea player furrowed his eyebrows looking at you in outrage „What the hell? She didn’t tell me that!“
„You’re so god damn stupid Mount.“ Trent shook his head, fed up with the guys narcissist behavior.
„Trent stop.“ you muttered, feeling sick to your stomach as you tried to pull up your dress but failed miserably.
But the two guys didn’t stop bickering. You watched them go at each again, your dress only pulled up halfway. And then a familiar feeling washed over you. You wanted to take a step back, knowing you were awfully close to Mason who was being pushed in your direction but there wasn’t enough time.
And then it happened.
„Oh my god.“ Mason gasped, feeling a wet substance run down his back.
You were as pale as a ghost as you continued to throw up on the floor. Crying and sobbing as you frantically apologized to Mason.
„I'm so sorry Mason. I’m so sorry.“ you sobbed, looking at him through blurry eyes as you wiped the corners of your mouth „I’m so sorry-“
When Mason realized it was puke on his back he of course immediately freaked out, gagging and hyperventilating. He literally had your puke on him so you couldn’t blame him. The guy rushed into the water, in attempt to wash it off while Trent ran to your side. Masons faint cursing still very audible.
Your best friend worriedly kneeled down next to you, putting his hand on your back „It’s okay Y/n calm down.“
„No, I’m so sorry Trent. I ruined everything I’m so sorry!“ you frantically whined as Trent looked hopeless trying to calm you down.
„No you didn’t ruin anything.“ he reassured you, trying to ignore Masons overdramatic coughing from afar.
„Let’s just go.“ he tried to pick you up by wrapping his arms under yours. As he lifted up your limp half dressed body with all his strength. You didn’t stop crying once as Trent basically carried you away from the beach. Watching Mason dissapear out of your sight.
„I’m so sorry Trent.“
You held your knees close to your chest as you felt the warm water around your body. Sitting in the bathtub as Trent helped you get cleaned up, kneeling on the bathroom floor next to you. You looked at your best friend who was still wearing his white shirt, stains all over it.
„There’s puke on your shirt.“ you mumbled, slightly embarassed but wanting him to know so he could take it off.
„I know.“ Trent whispered, putting water over your hair in attempt to get all the sand out „I don’t care.“
You smiled weakly, this was the exact reason you loved Trent. He would never make anyone feel embarrassed . He would do anything to make you feel comfortable even though you had freaking thrown up on him.
„I can’t believe I threw up on Mason Mount.“ you sighed, hearing how pathetic it sounded.
Trent chuckled, shaking his head „He did kinda deserve it.“
You chuckled too, nodding. He was probably right. Mason was kind of a douchebag actually. Not that there was anything wrong with it but he just was.
Trent sighed, running his fingers along you wet skin as he traced circles on your upper arm. He just couldn’t understand it; you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see it yourself.
„Why did you do that?“ you now blurted out, asking what had been on your mind all night long „Why did you stop me earlier?“
Trent shook his head, pressing his lips together. He couldn’t say it.
„Was I not good?“ you mumbled, feeling a little ashamed to ask but craving some kind of answer.
„No!“ Trent immediately answered, shaking his head „No it wasn’t that. I mean you were more than good.“
„Then what was it?“ you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to figure out what was on Trents mind.
„I… I…“ he stuttered, burying his face in his hands „I just can’t do stuff like that and not feel anything.“
Feel? Did Trent just say he had feelings for you? How come you hadn’t noticed that, he was your best friend.
But you knew exactly what he was saying as it was the same for you. You also had caught some feelings. Although you would have never admitted to, scared to ruin the friendship. But him feeling the same way actually changed things.
„What if I told you that you don’t have to feel nothing?“
You were placed down on the soft bed, Trent hovering above you. He took off his shirt faster than you had ever seen him do so before he reconnected his lips with yours. His hands roaming up and down your naked body while yours travelled down his chest all the way to his pants. You fidgeted with his belt before eagerly opening it.
Trent helped you, not once disconnecting your lips as he pulled down his pants and underwear. You could already feel him press against your leg as he pulled away from you a panting mess.
„Are you sure?“ he asked, looking at you with swollen lips and the sight of that alone made you wanna go crazy.
„Yes.“ you whispered, immediately crashing your lips onto his again.
Trent moaned into the kiss and before you knew it his hand wandered down to your clit. He ran his fingers down a little bit, feeling just how wet you are before continuing to simulate the sensitive spot. You couldn’t help but moan, never ever having felt this before.
„Oh my god.“ you whimpered, in between kisses as you put your hands around his neck.
„I know.“ Trent mumbled before slowly running down his hand. His fingers right above your entrance as he slowly entered one into you.
You took a sharp breath, suprised by the cold feeling of him inside you. Trent waited a little before slowly starting to move his finger inside you. After a while he added a second one, pulling away from you as he watched you from above. He moved his fingers inside of you, trying to stretch you out a little as he watched you lay underneath him with closed eyes. The sight of it, actually making him go insane.
„Is this still okay?“ he asked, pumping his fingers inside you. You bit your lips, nodding burying your head into the pillow underneath you.
He then continued to add a third finger which admittetly did kind of hurt. You tried to calm your nerves, already feeling him stretch you out. How was he ever gonna fit inside you?
„You have to relax baby.“ he now mumbled, reconnecting your lips in order to distract you a little as you were too tense.
After a while he finally managed to get you to let go and was able to move his fingers inside you. You moaned, this actually felt good once you relaxed.
„Trent.“ you moaned as he worked himself down your jaw „I think I’m ready.“
Trent moaned, pulling out his fingers before looking down at you and once again asking „Are you a hundred percent sure?“
„Yes Trent.“ you giggled, softly kissing him your arms wrapped around his neck „I’m a hundred percent sure. I want this.“
Trent didn’t need anything else. He untangled himself from you, reaching for his night stand as he grabbed a condom out the top drawer. He eagerly ripped it open before smoothly putting it onto himself. You watched him, feeling kind of nervous as you comprehended just how big he really was.
In no time he was back over you again. He looked down at you before whispering „It’s important that you just relax now. Alright?“
You nodded, knowing he was only trying to make this less painful for you. Trent placed his tip against your entrance, waiting there for a moment. He pushed himself in a little before stopping, trying to get you to adjust to him. You pressed you lips together, whimpering. This hurt like a bitch.
After a while you nodded, signaling Trent to go on. He ever so slowly continued as you felt him fill you up inch by inch. A tear slipped down your cheek out of natural instinct to the pain.
„Fuck are you okay baby?“ Trent asked, his arms resting next to your face as he looked at you woried.
„Yes.“ you whispered, trying to bite through the pain „Is it in yet?“
„Yes just a little bit more.“ he groaned as you looked up at him. He had on the exact same eexpression like he had when you had his dick in your mouth. It was probably hard for him to control himself right now.
It was then when you felt the end of his shaft against you, that you knew he was all the way inside you. You took a deep breath trying to cope with the overwhelming amount of feelings.
„You’re doing so well baby.“ Trent moaned, kissing you softly as he rested inside you „Just take your time.“
You looked up at Trent through teary eyes but this time it was not because of the pain it was because you loved him so much.
„It’s okay.“ you whsipered, your nails digging into his back „You can move.“
Trent slowly started moving inside of you, making sure his thrusts were slow and soft. Not trying to hurt you anymore.
„Oh god you’re so tight.“ he groaned as you threw your head back.
The part he hit inside you made the pain turn into absolute pleasure. You were a moaning mess, trying to take in each moment.
„Fuck Trent.“ you moaned, feeling him start to move faster. The sound of your voice made Trent go absoluetly crazy.
He reconnected your lips, never once stopping the movement in his hips. As he thrusted into you deeper and faster than before. His tongue finding it’s was into your mouth as he felt you clench around him.
„Fuck.“ Trent moaned, his forehead pressed against yours „I’m so fucking close.“
„Me too.“ you whimpered, feeling your legs start to tremble.
It didn’t take much longer before you felt Trents cock twitch inside you as you both rode out your high trying to gasp for air. Your sweaty bodies intewinded as the smell of sex lingered in the room.
„I fucking love you.“ Trent sighed, still resting inside you „I’m glad we decided to feel things because this was great."
454 notes · View notes
kyovtani · 4 years ago
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𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 – 𝒊𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆
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࿏ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x chubby female reader ࿏ genre: fluff, smut, angst; best friends to lovers!AU ࿏ word count: 11.6k (at this point i have no explanation, im sorry) ࿏ warnings: swearing, mentions of body image issues, self doubts, anxiety, bullying, fat shaming; as well as violence and blood (iwa gets into a fight mwah); ddlg (daddy dom-little girl) dynamics, soft dom!iwa, body worship, praising, sugarcoated degradation, spitting, choking, fingering, face riding, unprotected sex
࿏ Summary: After four years of trying to get over your stupid crush on your best friend, said male finally comes back home and all of a sudden all of those plans are thrown overboard...
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Even though you‘ve known about it for so long now, you still feel your heart skip a beat when Matsukawa mentions his return to Japan and no matter how hard you try to, you can‘t help the way the disgusting mixture of anxiety, nervousness and excitement starts filling your veins.
After all it‘s been literal years since you‘ve last seen him.
Iwaizumi Hajime, former Seijoh Ace, now freshly majored athletic trainer, your best friend of ten years and — love of your life.
However, of course he doesn‘t know about the latter and as pathetic as it may sound, you‘re quite proud of yourself for hiding your feelings for him so well that he hasn‘t suspected anything in all these years the two of you have been friends.
Of course it‘s painful and basically nothing but literal torture to watch the guy you‘ve lost your heart to years ago, move on with his life thinking he‘s nothing but a friend to you, but you know you‘d always choose this pain over the one of rejection and shame.
Because after all you‘re not his type or what he looks for in a partner and you're very much aware of it.
And no matter how many times you daydream about a life as his girlfriend, you won’t ever forget about the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime, basically a literal athlete, would never date someone who looked like you.
Growing up on the bigger side, physically wise, has always been difficult and something you're struggling with to this day. You had always hoped for those extra pounds to disappear once you hit puberty, just like it had happened to all of your friends but those hopes were quickly destroyed when you still found yourself hiding from full length mirrors to avoid having to look at your own body in your third year of High School.
By the time you turned eighteen, you had tried every kind of diet in hopes of losing weight but all of them just ended with you losing motivation and every bit of your happiness and even though you still struggle with it in your mid-twenties, you‘ve come to terms with it.
This is who you are and despite taking literal decades to realize it, you‘ve slowly but surely started accepting it.
However, when it comes to relationships, you‘ve given up completely.
After years and years of being rejected, hidden, fat shamed and disrespected by men who hated their own attraction to bigger women, you stopped wasting your time and energy on dating. If you wanted to hear someone shame you for being big, you could just go home to your family or back in your memory to remember all those mean things the skinny girls in your school had thrown at you.
Or you could just look in the mirror and let your brain do the job after eating literally anything.
Just thinking about a guy like Iwaizumi looking at you in that way has you chuckling coldly and every time you imagine confessing to him, it ends with a broken heart on your side because your brain loves to keep things realistic and never once have you considered the possibility of him liking you back.
It‘s not that Iwaizumi, or any of the Seijoh Volleyball boys, have treated you badly or even slightly differently in the three years you were their manager, but after having to deal with fat shaming your whole life, it has become quite difficult for you to believe that anyone found you attractive at all.
Especially people like the widely known Seijoh third years who also happen to – still – be your closest friends.
And unfortunately, as glad as you are that Iwaizumi remains rather oblivious to your year-long crush on him, the other boys, including the professional athlete to be, Oikawa Tōru who’s currently living his best life in Argentina are pretty much aware of your feelings for the trainer.
So, just as usual whenever the topic of Iwaizumi Hajime enters the conversation between the other two, you’re met with pitying stares from Takahiro and a lot of teasing coming from Issei. But at this point you’ve gotten quite used to it and don’t mind the brunette’s words, whereas you still find yourself growing absolutely annoyed at the way Makki stared at you.
“Stop staring at me like that, Hiro!”, you hiss and roll your eyes, the pity in his face so evident, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s mocking you.
“Just confess to him already!”, the strawberryblonde hisses, running one of his pale hands through his locks before he takes a big sip from his beer.
“Yeah, sure!”, you spit back, your words dripping in sarcasm and annoyance as you try to avoid your chest from growing even heavier at the thought of your best friend coming back after all those years.
“He broke up with that blondie months ago”, Matsukawa begins, his naturally sleepy gaze roaming your face attentively, “and he’s coming back to Japan. Now you really have no excuse left, Y/N”, and just as usual his words hit the right spot and all you can do is let out a shaky sigh before the intensity of your insecurities breaks down onto you like a huge wave.
“I‘m not his type, Mattsun”, you hiss, the bitter taste of reality coating the muscle of your tongue in the worst way possible, “and I‘ve had enough males reject and– or fat shame me. If I have to add Hajime to that list as well, it’s going to break me.”
You feel the two males’ soft gazes on you, whereas you can‘t help but focus on the napkin in between your fingers in hopes of distracting yourself from all those dark thoughts by nervously pulling at it.
“Iwa‘s not like that, Y/N”, Makki replies, brows furrowed in irritation; something you've grown quite used to seeing whenever the topic of your body image issues occured.
“Has he ever dated a big girl before, hm?”, you reply and look at him with arched brows and your lips pressed into a thin line. At the lack of response from the two men in front of you, you just lean back and nod.
“That‘s the point”, you take another deep, shaky breath; the tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes at the thought of your pretty faced best friend and only men in your heart, “nobody likes women who look like me in that certain way, my loves. Every guy I‘ve been and slept with wanted to hide me or the relationship we had because they didn‘t want to be seen with a big girl.”
Suddenly you‘re hit with the memory of all those times you went home after any kind of intercourse with a male who had brought your hopes up with sugarcoated lies. Only to receive a harsh reality check when they asked you to not tell anyone about it, knowing it‘s simply because of the fact you aren‘t part of society‘s beauty standards.
“Y/N, we-”, “I‘m not talking about you two”, you‘re quick to interrupt Hanamaki, giving him a soft smile, “I know you don‘t care about it and sometimes I find myself wishing I would have fallen for one of you instead of the professional trainer”, you let out an empty, coldhearted chuckle before you finish your glass of wine in one go.
“I would fuck you without hesitation”, Mattsun shrugs, his plump lips stretching into a playful smirk and the tiny hint of seriousness in his gaze has you rolling your eyes with a soft scoff.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Issei”, Makki hisses and gives his best friend the same reaction as you.
“What? I‘m being serious! You know this isn‘t the first time I‘m offering this to you, pretty one”, the brunette replies and this time you can‘t help but chuckle softly at his words, showing him your appreciation for his ability to make such heavy topics vanish from the surface so easily.
“Thank you, Issei but that guy I met on Tinder has been ghosting me for two weeks after we fucked and that‘s why I‘ve had enough dick for now”, and just when you let your gaze roam over the brunette‘s handsome face, you watch Hanamaki‘s face brighten up suddenly and furrow your brows in confusion.
“Hearing Y/N talk about dick is definitely not what I was expecting to come back to but it‘s surely a surprise!”
And upon hearing the familiar voice of your best friend, you understand the reason behind the change in Makki’s expression.
You watch the other two get up from their chairs, approaching the freshly majored trainer with the biggest smiles plastered on their faces whereas you try your best to stay as calm as possible.
However, the simple thought of Iwaizumi coming back had already stressed you out and having him stand behind you in all his glory made the tightness in your chest and the struggle to take proper breaths intensify just like that.
After what feels like an eternity you finally get yourself to stand up as well, turning around literally convinced you‘re ready to see him again after all these years only for it to be the exact opposite.
Your heart skips a whole beat at the sight of Iwaizumi and for a quick second you feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your lungs.
“Hey”, he mumbles, his voice deep and raspy, something you‘re used to since the two of you have been talking regularly on the phone over the time yet hearing it in person again sends a jolt of hot arousal right into your core.
You nervously let your eyes roam his face; taking in the sight of his features, which have become even sharper during his absence. A soft sigh falls past your lips when you find the little scar right underneath his eyebrow which he had gotten back in middle school during one of his volleyball practices. The familiarity and feeling of security in the soft expression of his pretty, dark green eyes calms you down in an instant and by the time you feel your muscles ease up a bit, he‘s already approaching you with open arms.
Different than you’ve expected from yourself, you‘re quick to wrap your arms around his slim waist, taking him into your embrace with the intention of never letting him go again and at the feeling of his big hands on your body, you can‘t help but tear up a little.
You sniffle softly against the crook of his neck, Iwaizumi letting out a breathy chuckle at your sweet reaction as he caresses your back gently, subconsciously massaging your soft flesh to calm you down even more.
“Seems like someone missed me a lot more than she wanted to admit on the phone, hm?”, Iwa mumbles softly, placing the sweetest kiss on the top of your head as he holds you tight.
Matsukawa and Hanamaki let out a row of deep chuckles, partly laughing at your obvious reaction and partly because of their best friend‘s blatant oblivion.
“Shut up”, you reply with a sniff, taking in the light yet intense smell of his aftershave as well as the scent of detergent you had missed oh so much.
“Enough now, Y/N”, Mattsun huffs, “you can cuddle his stupid ass some other time, let‘s catch up with Mister America”, he adds and you know too well the tall brunette simply does it to stop you from falling even further into this dark hole you‘ve dug yourself; all those years ago.
Throughout the whole night, you stay rather quiet; listening to Iwaizumi‘s stories, more so to his voice but definitely his stories, too.
And every time he mentions some random girl he hooked up with or one of his ex girlfriends, you can literally feel the way he‘s avoiding your gaze; his eyes moving away from your face to focus on the guys as his voice turns a little less enthusiastic. You try your best not to read anything into it, knowing he‘s always been more hesitant towards you when it came to topics like this and in some way you find yourself appreciating it because it definitely helps to make the pain in your chest a little less heavy.
The atmosphere between the four of you remains calm; the familiarity something you‘ve always missed despite you and the other two boys spending just as much time together as you used to back in High School. Having Iwaizumi in your little circle again definitely has changed the air and it‘s in times like these you realize just how close you all actually are.
However, when Hanamaki and Matsukawa both stand up, cigarettes firmly placed between their plump lips, telling the two of you to give them a few minutes, you feel yourself slowly wandering into a state of anxiousness and slight panic.
It‘s not like you haven‘t talked to him alone during his stay in America, but the thought of having to look him in the eyes as you speak has always been something you‘ve struggled with.
Iwaizumi has this certain expression in his beautiful, dark green eyes, which makes it so much harder to not fall for him even more.
You don‘t know if it‘s the confidence and lack of insecurity or the mixture of softness and home which have the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely crazy.
Neither of you say anything for a good minute, your eyes glued to your phone screen which continuously lights up; Oikawa‘s name appearing several times.
You excuse yourself to give the professional athlete the responses he‘s waiting for, rolling your eyes at his way of telling you to shoot your shot at Iwa and “get that D”.
“Are you still talking to that one guy you told me about?”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his eyes never once leaving yours and with a soft chuckle, you shake your head; enjoying the amount of protectiveness dripping from his words.
“We fucked and then he ghosted me”, you say casually, not realizing that it‘s not one of the other two boys you‘re talking to and with a soft gasp of embarrassment you try to mumble your way out of the situation.
“Iwa, I‘m-”, “Why the fuck would he even do that? Give me his fucking address so I can introduve his kneecaps to my baseball bat”, he‘s quick to interrupt you harshly, his tone filled with anger as his eyes gleam with wrath.
“It‘s okay”, you smile softly, placing your hand on his balled fists to calm him down again, “he told me not to tell anyone that we did it so his intentions have never been good. And on top of that – his dick game was so bad, I didn‘t even get to finish but had to take care of it myself, so it‘s definitely not worth the headache.”
You watch Iwaizumi‘s expression darken even further, his beautiful dark green eyes roaming your face with irritation oozing from his gaze and for a second you like to believe that there‘s even a hint of jealousy in between all those intense emotions but just as usual you find yourself shaking it off rather quickly.
“Why did he ask you not to tell anyone? What the fuck is even wrong with that guy?”, the brunette spits, downing the rest of his beer in one go.
You know why he‘s this angry and at this point you can’t even blame him anymore. Iwaizumi has never really understood why you put up with guys who treated you like absolute shit; continuously telling you how you deserved so much better and even though you wanted to agree, you simply couldn‘t. Because in your head, all those men who were ashamed of being with you yet still found their way to your door were exactly what was meant to be your life.
“Because being with a woman like me isn‘t anything he‘s proud of, Iwa”, you sigh, the words heavy and bitter on your tongue as you struggle to voice the hard reality.
“A woman like you?”, he replies and you see the genuine confusion on his handsome face, making his oblivion sweet almost.
“A big woman, Iwaizumi. Guys don‘t date big girls because we don‘t fit into society‘s beauty standards so being with us is something they‘re ashamed of because God forbid someone thinks they find us attractive“, you nervously play with the hem of your skirt, not having the courage to look into his face as those thing leave your lips, too embarrassed to meet his usually so welcoming and soft, but now wrath-filled gaze.
“That‘s bullshit”, Hajime is quick to spit back, hating the way you belittle yourself like that because of a random guy.
You smile, a soft scoff falling past your lips before you take a sip from the glass in front of you and even though you know you‘re going to regret those words, you still can‘t get yourself to stop from leaving you.
“Then why have you never dated a big girl, Haji?”, your voice is slightly shaky yet you remain the eye contact like a champion, never once averting your gaze from his handsome face even though the thrumming of your heart in your throat makes it so much more difficult to stay focused.
Iwaizumi seems taken aback; your words obviously hitting a place he wasn‘t expecting and that‘s when the feeling of guilt reaches its peak.
“I‘m not- It‘s not because I don‘t find them attractive I just- I uhm-”, the freshly majored professional trainer stumbles over his words like a two-year-old who just started learning how to speak and at the sight of a deep blush covering the apples of his cheeks as well as the tip of his nose and the whole of his neck, you let out a soft sigh.
“You don‘t have to explain yourself, Iwaizumi. I wasn‘t trying to accuse you of anything or offend you in any way, I promise. It’s just a topic I‘ve grown really tired of in the past few years”, you explain, making sure to choose your words carefully and when the tall male suddenly starts calming down again, you know you‘ve got him.
“Y/N, look-”, “Hey, Y/N the weak-dick-game guy is sitting at the bar with his ugly friends, just for your information”, Matsukawa‘s deep voice quickly cuts Iwaizumi off, his words sending shivers down your spine in the most disgusting way possible and with an almost painful roll of your eyes, you down the rest of your best friend‘s beer.
“Wait- What? Which one is it?”, Iwaizumi grunts, the calmness from a few seconds ago completely gone as you look at him with brows furrowed in slight irritation and annoyance.
“It doesn‘t matter, Iwa”, you say and wrap your fingers around his tattooed wrist, making him look into your eyes with another soft exhale, “he‘s not worth it. Just let it go.”
“Y/N, I said”, Iwaizumi is quick to place one of his big hands on your cheek, the dominance in his aura and the authority gleaming in his eyes has you gasping for air and just as usual you feel your panties growing wetter by the minute, “which one is it?”
His words don‘t leave room for protest; so strict and demanding, no matter how hard you try to think rationally, his naturally dominant persona has you submitting to him in a way no other guy has ever managed to.
“T-The one with the long, dark purple Hair”, you quickly reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s anger and determination.
“Good girl”, he mumbles and pulls away, not even aware of the way his praise has your cunt throbbing like crazy and you absolutely hate him for it.
For a second you can‘t even get back to reality, the haze of arousal and longing for the tall male standing in front of you completely taking over your consciousness.
However, as soon as your brain registers Makki‘s panicked voice, you‘re quick to snap back and without missing another beat, you grab Iwaizumi‘s arm and look at him with pleading eyes.
“Please don‘t make a scene”, you whisper, knowing oh too well how much he loves to get himself in trouble because of his friends.
“He fucked then ghosted you all that while saying he doesn‘t want anyone to know he was with you because you're a big girl? That ugly fucker needs a fucking reality check because he can count himself hella fucking lucky to ever get a go with a woman as amazing and hot as you”, Iwaizumi hisses, his words filled with anger yet so, so sweet that without giving it another thought, you simply let go and try not to show him just how flustered he‘s gotten you.
“Are you guys about to kiss right now?”, Matsukawa suddenly says and with an almost audible roll of your eyes you lift your hand up, showing him your middle finger before you watch Iwaizumi‘s brows furrow even further with visible irritation.
“Then don‘t fight him”, you sigh, “please, Hajime, don‘t get yourself in trouble for a guy who‘s not worth it.”
“We‘ll see about it”, is all he says before he moves out of your tight grip, leaving you to stand at the table like that.
You feel your heart picking up its pace at the sight of the love of your life approaching your ex-hook up; several worst case scenarios popping up in your head within a few short seconds. And unfortunately every single one ends with Hajime throwing his fist into the guy‘s face because of his raging anger issues; something he‘s been trying to handle throughout his whole life.
“Makki, please do something”, you whimper and look at the strawberryblonde with glossy eyes; shivers running down your spine at the sudden sound of Hajime's deep voice cutting through the music of the bar.
“Not into you my fucking ass”, Takahiro hisses and follows Iwaizumi with quick steps, whereas Matsukawa remains next to you, watching the scene unfold with the fattest, shit eating grin on his face.
And while you‘re worried about Iwaizumi‘s well-being, said male can‘t even seem to think straight. The only thing he manages to focus on is the raging anger and hot wrath rushing through his veins at the thought of some random, small dicked guy treating you like dirt. With every step he takes, it seems to get worse and at some point the professional trainer is worried about his physical health because of the pace his heart is hammering against his rib cage with.
Iwaizumi has always struggled to understand why you put up with males who are literally unworthy of your presence yet every time he had asked, you simply shrugged and told him that this was how you were meant to be loved. Behind closed doors, hidden away from the world by people who literally worship the society‘s beauty standard.
And all of that when you‘ve had him right in front of you for all those years, ready to love and worship every bit of your body and soul.
Of course for you to let him love you he might have had to tell you about his feelings but as the years passed by, Iwaizumi slowly started to lose every bit of hope he had left. During his four year long absence you‘ve had your fair share of boyfriends and after the third one, the only choice he had left was to force himself to move on or else he would have lost his mind.
It‘s not like he never wanted to confess during High School but there was just something holding him back. The thought of losing you was heavy on his chest especially because Iwaizumi was very well aware you didn‘t feel the same. So for his own sake he chose not to tell you about his feelings for you; not even bearing the mental image of going through such rough times without you by his side.
He‘s already lost count of the amount of times he wanted to scream at you about how he would treat you just how you truly deserved to be treated and not like those douchebags who liked to use you for their own pleasure just to throw you away like a used tissue once they were done.
And after not being able to physically do anything for you because of the distance, he‘s finally got the chance to show you that no, those guys‘ behavior is not okay and yes, putting them back into their place is absolutely worth the headache.
“Hey”, the trainer hisses, coming to stand directly in front of the tall, purple haired guy, Rin Matsuoka,  who‘s quick to harden his expression upon seeing the brunette.
“What can I help you with, big guy?”, Rin mumbles, placing his bottle of beer on the counter with his brows raised in curiosity.
Iwaizumi doesn‘t even waste another minute as he harshly grabs the collar of Rin‘sblack leather jacket, pulling him closer to himself. His friends  rather quickly, yet Hanamaki and this time even Matsukawa are faster, coming to stand right next to each one of them with their arms firmly placed in front of their bodies to stop them from intervening.
“You‘re gonna listen to me and you‘re gonna listen good, did you fucking hear me?”, and just like a few minutes ago, Hajime‘s voice is cold and distant, not leaving room for discussion all while making sure to keep his tight grip.
The confusion and immense irritation is clearly visible on Rin‘s features; brows furrowed, jaw tensed and eyes gleaming with some kind of unnameable anger.
And the longer you watch the situation unfold, the heavier the anxiety in your system becomes and as you struggle to take proper breaths, you find yourself approaching your best friends; not wanting him to get his hands dirty on a guy like Matsuoka.
“What the-”, “Iwa please, he‘s not worth it..”, you say and wrap your fingers around his wrist, trying to find his gaze with desperate eyes only for him to gulp harshly and calmly tell you to take a step back.
“You?”, Rin spits, his dark eyes boring into your side as you try to ignore him; the amount of humiliation and shame washing over your body way too overwhelming to handle.
“Haji, let‘s just go, please”, you whisper, taking his face into your hands, his skin literally burning underneath your fingertips.
“No, Y/N, this stupid bastard has to understand that you can‘t just go and treat women like absolute dirt and get away with it”, Iwaizumi moves out of your soft touch, making Rin shift his attention back on you before the deep voice of one of his friends cuts through the tension.
“What the fuck is he talking about, Rin? Do you know her?”, the blonde says, his tone rather degrading when talking about you and at the way his eyes roam your body with a rather opposed expression show you exactly why that‘s the case.
“N-No, I don‘t!”, he‘s quick to defend himself, his eyes shifting to his friends with sheer panic filling the dark color and you feel your heart sink and the disgusting feeling of shame rushing through your veins.
“You‘re such a fucking piece of shit, Rin”, you hiss and swallow your tears; the taste bitter as the realization of being sometjing to be ashamed of hits you yet again.
“You definitely weren‘t acting like this when you fucked me”, you add and roll your eyes, taking a step back as the anger overcomes you and you basically give Iwaizumi a silent free pass to do whatever the hell he needs to, “or better said – when you tried to. It wasn‘t like I came with your weak dick game anyway so..”
“You fucked that fat bitch? Oh, yikes”, the other friend suddenly says, his words hitting you in the face like literal bricks and before you can even take your next breath or shift your eyes to the face the voice belongs to, the guy suddenly falls to the floor, holding his bloody nose.
You let out a shocked gasp, your eyes falling to Hanamaki who‘s busy shaking his hand, his knuckles already reddened and slightly bruised as he looks at you with a satisfied grin, “no one gets to call my best friend a bitch.”
“I was full on drunk and- do you really think I‘d fuck her sober?”, Rin tries to talk himself out of it and with a cold chuckle you throw your head back.
“How the fuck dare you talk to her like that”, is the last thing Iwaizumi spits before he throws his fist right into Rin‘s face with a deep grunt.
Another loud shriek escapes your lips and suddenly the anger and anxiety seem to leave your body and a huge wave of adrenaline hits you at the sight of your ex-hook up falling to the floor and Iwaizumi quickly moving with him.
For what feels like a whole hour but is probably nothing longer than a minute, you‘re literally frozen; your eyes the only moving part of your body as you watch your best friends break their knuckles on the jaws of literal strangers to them.
The following hour passes by in a blur. You can‘t really remember how or who separated them from those guys, or how you got yourself to call an uber and manage to get the four of you to your flat.
By the time the adrenaline stops making the blood rush in your ear, you‘re taking care of Matsukawa‘s wounds with shaky hands; the two others holding ice packs to their faces to ease the swelling of their bruises.
“Stop sighing so much”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his dark eyes focusing the movements of your hands before he looks at you with a slightly softer expression, “we did what we had to do. And I‘m glad we did it. Those guys already looked so fucking punchable”, he explains and with a scolding scoff you press your lips to a thin line.
“You‘re back in Japan for how long? Two days? Yet already got yourself in trouble, a physical fight at that, Hajime. You‘re not your High School self anymore, start behaving that way, please”, you reply and hand Mattsun a plastic bag filled with ice cubes, softly caressing his bruised cheek before you stand up from your place on the floor.
“You got yourself one hell of a mouth while I was gone,  huh?”, he replies cockily, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he follows you into the bathroom.
You feel your body heating up at his words, the sexual tension laying underneath the surface slowly finding its way to you again and with a soft sigh, you ignore the brunette.
“How was I supposed to let him say all those things to you and not do anything, Y/N?”, Iwaizumi replies, a pouty word of gratitude leaving his lips when you take his big hand into yours and start cleaning up the blood on his bruised knuckles.
You try your best to stop your thoughts from wandering to sinful places yet images of those pretty, tattooed fingers wrapped around your throat and knuckle deep buried inside of your cunt have already filled your mind by the time you lower your gaze from his face.
“I‘m used to-”, “That does not make it okay, Y/N”, your best friend suddenly says, taking your chin in between his fingers to lift your head and look at you with those beautiful, dark green eyes.
“You deserve so, so much better and I‘m glad I can finally tell you this in person after all those years. Please stop letting douches like him take advantage of you”, he sighs, taking your hands into his and pulling you a little bit closer to himself.
“It‘s that or Matsukawa‘s cock and I‘d rather have a stranger emotionally pain me than my best friend, so-”, “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”, Iwaizumi interrupts you harshly, your words obviously irritating him.
“After my last boyfriend dumped me a year ago I‘ve only had casual flings because I got tired of using my hand to get off and Matsukawa offered to take care of it instead. But then again, it‘s just a lot less complicated with a stranger than it is with your best friend, that‘s why I‘m putting up with shit like this”, you explain to him and walk back into the living room where Mattsun and Makki are currently busy with your leftover take out from the previous night.
“So if it wasn‘t for that, you‘d let him fuck you?”, Iwaizumi‘s tone has turned cold again, the softness gone and replaced by something a little thicker and more intense than anger. And when you turn around to look at him, you see literal jealousy gleaming in the green color surrounding his iris, basically leaving you speechless.
“Why do you even care, Iwa?”, you reply, dramatically throwing your hands into the air as his tensed demeanor sends you in some kind of haze of irritation.
“Answer my fucking question, Y/N”, is all you get in response; the brunette closing the distance between the two of you with a few small steps and it‘s the lack of space between your faces that has you realizing just how unevenly he‘s breathing.
Your heart starts slamming against your rib cage with rather brutal pace, your head spinning from the sudden adrenaline shooting through your body and on top of all of it you feel your cunt clenching around nothing like crazy as Iwaizumi’s heavy scent fills your nose.
“Yes”, you say and feel your voice breaking, “yes, I would fuck Matsukawa because why not? Hm, Iwaizumi? There‘s nothing else stopping me from it other than-”, “You can‘t and won‘t fuck him”, he suddenly interrupts your outburst, his expression as dark as ever as he softly pushes you against wall.
“I think this is the moment where we‘re supposed to leave”, Makki mumbles, pulling Mattsun from the couch before they gather their things and leave the two of you to yourself.
As the silence surrounds the two of you, the tension grows even thicker, heavier, more present than before and with every breath you take you feel yourself growing more and more aroused.
“And why is that, hm? I can and will fuck whoever I want”, you spit back, trying so hard ot not let the arousal get to your head yet the disgusting urge to submit to Iwaizumi‘s naturally dominant personality slowly starts overwhelming you.
Hajime chuckles deeply, his eyes lazily roaming your face, pressing his strong body even further against yours as your head starts spinning more and more with every second passing by.
“Iwa…”, you whimper softly, throwing your head back and harshly digging gripping the soft fabric of his shirt; the close contact makes you a lot more nervous than before.
He slowly takes a deep breath before he bends down to let his nose graze your jawline, and eventually letting his mouth find its way to your ear.
“Because no one can fuck you like I can, pretty one”, Iwaizumi whispers, his voice a whole octave deeper than just a few seconds before and you hate the way every single one of his words sends a single, hot jolt of arousal right into your core.
“And”, you hear him inhale sharply, his hands finding their way to your hips, groping the soft flesh firmly in his palms before he takes a short break and then pulls away to look at you again, “no one can love you like I can.”
At the sound of those words, your eyes snap open within a second your heart skips a literal beat.
“W-What?”, you whisper, your throat completely dried up, your head desperately trying to process what he’s just said and just as your body is about to fall into some kind of haze, you feel yourself drowning in a wave of anxiety at the thought of having misheard him.
“I love you, Y/N”, Iwaizumi says just when those thoughts are about to take over you.
“Ha-Hajime…”, you mumble; your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears pricker at the corners of your eyes, the first few finding their way down your cheek in an instant.
A few seconds of silence pass in which you two just look at each other, Iwaizumi’s pupils blown out, cheeks tinted in the deepest shade of red and plump lips parted as he also tries to understand what just happened.
After all these years of imagining what it might be like to hear these kind of words from the love of your life, it’s finally become reality and the longer you look at him, the lighter the weight on your chest becomes.
“I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship with this but I just – couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. When I was in America I had promised myself to confess as soon as possible when I’m back so here I am. Those men don’t deserve you. Neither do I but I would have hated myself forever if I didn’t at least try. So”, he finishes his sudden explanation with another deep exhale before he takes a step back, his glossy eyes wandering from yours down to the floor, “thank you for everything and please take care.”
And fortunately your body acts a lot faster than your mind because while you still try to process his soft, sweet words – the words you’ve been dying to hear for so, so long – you find yourself tightening your grip on his shirt and pulling him back into you with a soft sob.
“I love you, too”, you whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming warmth coming from his body.
“Fuck, baby”, Iwaizumi chuckles breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your body and burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m one lucky bastard, aren’t I?”
You smile brightly at his genuine and soft words, the feeling of coming home – a place you’ve longed for literal years – slowly breaks down onto you in the form of waves and for the first time in a really long time, you don’t mind being overwhelmed like that.
“So that means that you’re mine now?”, Iwaizumi whispers, pulling away and taking your face into his big hands, the smell of blood grazing your nose yet easily gets overshadowed by the way he’s looking at you as if you were holding the whole world in your hands.
You nod and move further into his touch, enjoying the feeling of being so safe and secure in one’s hands after not even feeling comfortable with anyone in years.
“T-Thank you for loving me, Iwa”, you gulp harshly, looking at him with teary eyes at the memory of all those who had managed to break your heart in the past years.
“No, baby”, he sighs, pressing the softest kiss right onto your lips, “thank you for letting me love you. When I say you’re literally everything I’ve ever dreamed of, I’m not even exaggerating because that’s what you are to me. A dream come true”, those are the last words Hajime mumbles before he pulls you into a proper kiss; not giving you the opportunity to reply.
The kiss starts off slow and calm. As if both of you were still trying to understand that this was actually happening because despite the hesitant movements, neither of you can hide the intense hunger lingering underneath every soft peck.
Iwaizumi, just as usual, lacks the patience to keep it going like that, not even trying to take it easier for even longer as he pulls your chin down and calmly pushes his tongue into your mouth, easily eliciting a soft moan from you. Your fingers find home in his brown curls, pulling at the thick strands and finally making him grunt right against your tongue; the deep sound sending vibrations and sweet little jolts of excitement through your whole body.
You slowly feel his hands wander; first starting off caressing your back, groping the soft flesh of your waist as well as the fingers of his right hand softly digging into your skin and for a second. You allow yourself to fall deeper and deeper into the perfect feeling of his touch until suddenly a mental image of his most recent ex-girlfriend pops up in your head and you stop functioning completely.
Iwaizumi lets his lips wander down your chin, placing a row of open mouthed kisses on your jaw before he moves to your neck and pulls the sensitive skin into his mouth without wasting another minute. The feeling of his hot tongue on your skin has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you desperately try to distract yourself from your anxiety‘s attempt to ruin this for you.
You let out a soft whimper when Hajime wraps one of his big hands around one of your tits, harshly groping the flesh while rubbing his hard, clothed cock against your thick thigh.
His deep grunts and needy touches have you ruining your panties in no time to the point where the lacey fabric is literally sticking to your hot flesh in a rather uncomfortable way.
“Need you, baby”, Iwaizumi grunts, the movements of his hips rather sloppy and rushed yet so, so genuine and sweet, you can‘t help but smile softly.
“You got me, Haji”, you reply and take his handsome face into your hands, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs, “I‘m all yours.”
“Fuck, baby”, he moans and suddenly pulls away, his hands finding their way to the hem of your dress before he meets your eyes and wordlessly asks for your consent.
You give him a quick nod, pushing the voice of your anxiety all the way to the back of your head as Hajime slowly pushes the fabric up your thighs, revealing more and more skin before his eyes roll into the back of his eyes at the sight of your black lace panties.
He doesn‘t waste much time; quickly pulling the rest of it over your head and then taking a whole step back to let his greedy eyes roam your body with lust and nothing but adoration.
And when you realize your current, exposed state you take a deep breath to hold those insecurities back, however they‘re a lot faster than you are.
You nervously try to cover your naked body with your arms. Just the thought of him finding you and your body disgusting breaks your heart into pieces and with shivers of shame rushing down your spine, you lower your gaze.
“L-Look, I know it‘s not what you‘re used to and I- you don‘t have to touch me. I can just suck your cock or give you a handjob if you feel more comfortable that way”, you say, your voice a mere whisper and eventually breaking at the end when you give in to the tears.
“Baby…”, Iwaizumi sighs, pain evident in the tone of his voice. He calmly takes your wrists into his big hands before he pulls your arms away from your body, softly asking you to look at him and after what feels like an eternity, you manage to lift your head only to be met with nothing but warm, dark green eyes.
“You‘re fucking perfect”, he whispers and places a tiny little kiss on your lips, leaving you longing for more as he pulls away right afterwards, “there‘s literally nothing I would change about you.”
At the sound of those sweet words, you simply cannot hold back your tears any longer. You look at Iwaizumi with a quivering bottom lip as you let out a row of soft sobs; digging your nails into the skin of his wrists because you simply don‘t know what else to do.
For the first time in your life, your brain isn‘t protesting against a compliment and you know if it wasn‘t for him, there would be no way you‘d believe it.
“B-But your ex-girlfriends are the exact opposite and-”, “They don‘t matter, baby. You‘re you and it‘s all I could have asked for. I‘m in love with every part of your body and that has never been any different”, Iwaizumi interrupts you with his calm voice, placing his hands on your waist before one of them finds its way to your barely clothed ass.
“But-”, “No more buts”, the brunette says, a lot sterner and more determined, groping the flesh of your ass and then landing a firm spank on the soft flesh which has you whimpering into the crook of his neck.
Iwaizumi chuckles and pulls you into another deep kiss, sucking at your tongue, nibbling on your bottom lip all while his hands make sure to graze every bit of naked skin they can find. He pushes his leg in between your thighs, pressing it right against your cunt and without even wasting another second you find yourself grinding against the strong muscle. The fabric of his jeans rubs your throbbing clit in the best way possible, eliciting a row of needy whimpers from you.
You feel yourself soaking through the fabric of our lace panties and you know you‘re currently leaving a huge stain on Iwaizumi‘s pants but the pleasure clouding your mind makes it so easy to just ignore it.
“What a needy girl you are, baby”, Hajime mumbles, caressing the slightly dampened skin of cheeks with his thumb before he moves to graze your bottom lip and eventually pushes the digit into your open mouth.
Your lids fly open at the taste of his skin on your tongue, twirling the muscle around his thumb and then sucking on it softly, followed by some muffled moans of his name.
Iwaizumi watches you attentively for what feels like an eternity. His beautiful eyes wandering from the way you‘re rubbing your clunt against his clothed thigh to your perky nipples and then up to the way your lips look wrapped around his thumb like that and from the way his expression keeps growing darker and even hungrier, you know he‘s more than just enjoying your despair.
“I want to spit in your mouth”, he says, using the dominant tone you‘re oh so used to at this point and there‘s no way you‘d ever say no to him.
Something about being claimed in such a lewd way by the man you‘ve been dreaming of for years has you grinding your pussy into his thigh even harder; making sure to hit your clit with every rushed drag of your hips.
“Yes, p-please, Daddy”, you beg, not even overthinking any of your words as you part your lips and look at him with big, needy eyes.
When you notice the rather shocked and slightly overwhelmed expression on Iwaizumi‘s face, you gulp harshly, tilting your head to the side with your lips pushed into a concerned pout.
“What‘s wrong, Iwa?”, you whisper, way too scared of his response.
“You called me Daddy”, he replies and licks his plump lips, whereas you freeze completely at his comment.
“D-Did I? I‘m so sorry, Iwa”, the apology falls past your lips almost instantly at the realization because you know that not every guy is comfortable with such dynamic and even if Hajime definitely has a natural dominance to his personality, you should have waited a little longer before bringing this particular kink up.
“None of my boyfriends liked it and I don‘t like using it with completely strangers so I g-guess I just feel really safe with you and it slipped and I- oh, God, I‘m so sorry.”
You pull away from Iwaizumi with shaky hands, tears threatening to spill for the nth time within such a short period and you try your best to look everywhere but his eyes.
However, Iwaizumis seems to have other plans.
He takes your chin into his hand and pulls your face closer, nudges your nose with his own and then sucks your bottom lip into his mouth; making you whimper rather loudly.
“Say it again, baby”, he whispers, “tell Daddy how badly you want his spit.”
As his words echo inside of your brain, you let out a loud, high pitched whine, harshly trying to press your thigh further together ss the throbbing of your cunt becomes unbearable.
“Please, Daddy”, you reply, pushing his hand down to your neck and smiling softly when he wraps his pretty fingers around your throat, feeding right into every single fantasy you‘ve been imagining for so long, “spit in my mouth and on my cunt, I don‘t care. I just need it.”
“Good girl”, Iwa growls softly, “open up then, pretty one.”
You part your lips almost automatically at the sound of his demand, sticking your tongue out slightly and looking up at him with anticipation and such eagerness, if it wasn‘t for him, you would have never been as comfortable as this.
Iwaizumi smirks at you, keeping his grip on your throat firm but not too tight as he gathers his own saliva and spits into your mouth with a loud, lewd sound that sends shivers of pleasure straight down your spine and right into your core.
You can‘t stop your lips from stretching into a big smile when his taste coats the muscle of your tongue, swallowing it all in one go before you open your mouth yet again to show him it‘s all gone.
“Good fucking girl”, Iwaizumi praises you softly, caressing your cheek before he lets fo of your throat, “I got myself a perfect little doll, hm?”
“Thank you, Daddy”, you reply quickly, the intense urge to obey to his every word and submit to his every move absolutely overwhelming  at this point, but you would never want it any other way.
“Look at you, using your manners for me. You‘re welcome, princess. What about a little reward for being so good for me, baby? Wanna sit on my face so I can eat that pretty pussy of yours?”, Iwaizumi takes you hand into his, intertwining his fingers with yours before he guides you to the couch, letting himself fall into the soft cushion whereas you try your best not to panic at his words.
Of course the thought of having his mouth on your cunt is more than just tempting but you've never sat on a guy‘s face before; the fear of literally suffocating him with your weight making it impossible for you to even think about it.
“C-Can‘t you just eat me out like this, Daddy?”, you whisper, looking down to meet Iwa‘s hungry gaze and stopping him from pulling your panties any further down your thighs.
“I‘m too heavy”, the explanation follows right away, not wanting him to think it has anything to do with him or his wishes, “I don‘t want to hurt you.”
“Baby, I want you to sit on my face so I can eat your pretty pussy. That‘s it”, Iwaizumi says, his right hand finding the clasp of your bra and quickly getting rid of it before he takes both of your tits into his big hands; toying with your nipples and attentively watching the way your gasps grow louder with every pull on the perky buds, “you don‘t have to if you don‘t want to but don‘t you dare worry about me because this has been a dream of mine for literal years. Oh, how badly I want to be squished by those pretty, thick thighs of yours – you have no idea.”
“I want to! It’s just that I’ve never done this before. A-Are you sure? Please don‘t think you have to want this to make me feel better, I‘m okay with whatever you‘re comfortable with”, you whisper, not trusting your voice when you suddenly feel Iwaizumi‘s fingers tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs.
“Enough of this, pretty one”, his words are accompanied by a firm spank on your naked ass cheek; the pain of the sting leaving your pussy a spasming mess and with a soft moan you tighten your grip in his hair, “now sit on my face or I won’t fuck you.”
“N-No! Daddy, I‘m sorry, I promise I‘ll be good”, you whine quickly letting go of him so he can lay on his back only for Iwaizumi to get rid of his black shirt; revealing his strong, well trained body and all those dark lines adorning his tanned skin to your hungry eyes.
It takes you a few good seconds to gain enough confidence to actually spread your legs over his face, your whole body shaking with nervousness. But once Iwaizumi wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your body even further down to his face, you slowly start easing up.
The feeling of his hot breath fanning against the wet flesh of your cunt sends goosebumps down your back. And the sight of his pretty face between your thick thighs, something you‘ve always been so insecure about, seems to slowly take a place as one of your favorite images to ever exist.
“Look me in the eyes, baby”, Iwaizumi mumbles and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, his tongue on your skin making more and more juices gush out of your already drenched cunt as you allow yourself to meet his hungry gaze.
And just when your eyes meet, Iwaizumi sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe over the hor flesh of your pussy before he gently pulls your little clit into his mouth and starts sucking on it.
You let out a loud groan; the sudden stimulation on your needy clit sending literal shock waves of pleasure through your body and without even realizing you slowly grind yourself further against his mouth.
Iwaizumi moans into your flesh, the deep bass of his voice sending vibrations right into your core, making your cunt clench even harder around nothing and if it wasn‘t for the intensity of his stare, you would have looked away already. Yet just as usual, there‘s something about the way he looks at you which has you feeling at literal ease – even in such a situation.
“Come on, baby”, Iwaizumi suddenly grunts, letting go of the sensitive bud with a loud sound before placing an open mouthed kiss on your clit and landing a harsh spank on your ash which has your body jolting in antica, “don’t be shy now. Ride my face like the good girl you are, make me proud…”, he adds softly, his words encouraging you easily and with a sound of affirmation, you start grinding your hips to meet the hot muscle of his tongue.
The following minutes are filled with loud slurping noises, high pitched moans and deep grunts as well as more words of affirmation and encouragement all while Iwaizumi continues to switch between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and sucking on your clit before he eventually starts fingerfucking you with two of his thick digits.
You can't help but throw your head back at the immense amount of pleasure; your body and mind slowly reaching a point of complete haze as you lose yourself in the feeling of his touch.
And by the time you finally feel the taste of your high coating the tip of your tongue, your grip on Iwaizumi‘s hair tightens and a row of loud, choked out begs fall past your bit swollen lips.
“Look at your greedy little pussy clenching around my fingers like that”, Iwa chuckles deeply, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he keeps his mouth way too close to your throbbing little clit, “and those pretty begs. Gosh, baby, you‘re going to drive me insane.”
“S-So close, Daddy”, you choke out, your eyes flying open when you feel a third finger joining the two inside of your tight cunt, the pain of the stretch in combination with the pleasure of your upcoming high making your head spin.
“There we go, that‘s my baby”, he takes a deep breath and starts kneading the soft flesh of your ass in his palms, “want you to cum all over my fucking face. Show me what a good fucking girl you are.”
And those are the last words your brain manages to register before you feel the first wave of your orgasm hit you. Your sight turns pitch black and then white for a good second, your whole body tensing up at the feeling of coil in your core finally snapping.
Your thighs are shaking, your breath continuously hitching as you desperately try to regain your composure and if it wasn‘t for Iwaizumi‘s touch on your sensitive pussy, you‘d stay in the beautiful haze of your orgasm.
“You came so hard for me, baby”, Iwaizumi grins and pushes his fingers into his mouth before you finally find enough energy to get off of his face.
“W-Want more”, you whisper, your voice raspy and breathy as you tell him your request; low-key scared of being too greedy yet at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s eyes sparkling with excitement, you know he‘s not one to deny you anything. He‘s never been, after all.
“How about we move this to your bedroom, baby? I‘ve been dying to press your face into the mattress and ruin that little pussy of yours.” You feel a jolt of excitement blooming inside your chest at his words, nodding eagerly before you reach for his hand and guide him down the hall to your bedroom.
“Do you want me to suck you off?”, you say when the two of you come to stand in your room, your eyes focusing on the huge bulge in his pants, which manages to scare you slightly with its impressive size.
You always knew your best friend wasn‘t on the smaller side when it came to size yet you still can‘t hide just how surprised you are by its actual size. And suddenly the three fingers make a lot more sense to you.
“Let‘s save that for another time, pretty one. I‘ve been dreaming about pumping your cute little hole full of my cum for way too long. I can‘t wait any longer”, Iwaizumi replies and finally starts unbuckling his belt.
You take the few seconds he‘s busy to let your eyes admire the beauty of his perfectly sculpted body. You follow the dark lines of his chest tattoo, take in the sight of his stone hard abs and veiny arms as you press your thighs even more together to ease some of the pressure on your cunt.
“Are you done eyefucking me, pretty one?”, Iwaizumi suddenly chuckles, casually pushing his jeans as well as his boxer briefs down his meaty thighs and exposing his hard cock for your hungry eyes to devour.
He wraps his pretty fingers around his throbbing length, the tip an angry shade of red as precum continues to leak out; making your mouth water at the mere thought of having him in your mouth.
“Everything about you is so pretty”, you sigh and look into his eyes, the genuine appreciation in the green surrounding his iris making your heart grow warmer before he comes to stand in front of you in all of his glory.
“I love you so much”, Iwaizumi replies calmly, taking your face into his big hands before he places the softest kiss on your forehead.
“I love you, too”, you mumble and get up, pressing your lips against his and sighing into his mouth when he pushes his tongue past your lips without missing a beat.
Just when Iwaizumi starts letting his hands wander over your naked body, he halts his movements and pulls away slightly, “my pretty little baby, make sure to face the mirror so you can watch while I fuck your brains out. I want you to see just how perfect you are.”
“Yes, Daddy”, you whisper, your lips stretched into a big, big smile as you move out of his strong grip to position yours on your knees just as you were told.
Your heart suddenly starts racing again when you bury your face in your arms, making sure to push your ass as high as possible to give Iwaizumi easy access to your glistening cut. The excitement in combination with the pleasure and deep, deep longing finally manage to take over your brain; shoving the anxiety alongside all those insecurities to the very back of your head and making it easy for you to put your whole focus on the tll male behind you.
Iwaizumi’s rough hands caress your bare ass softly, kneading the flesh and lightly spanking it a few times before he lets a thick drop of his spit fall right onto your clenching pussy; sending goosebumps down your back at the feeling of it sliding down your flesh and mixing with your leaking juices.
You feel the tip of his thick cock nudging your entrance, the memory of his size making you tense up subconsciously and just when you’re about to hold your breath, Iwaizumi’s deep, calming voice echoes through the silence of your room.
“Take a deep breath, baby”, he whispers, knowing you’re going to follow his orders just like the good girl you love to be, “Daddy’s got you, okay? I’m gonna go easy, I promise.”
You lift your head to meet his comforting gaze through the mirror in front of you and without another beat passing, you feel yourself calming down again; the feeling of being absolutely safe and secure in his hand making it the easiest task.
And when Iwaizumi feels the tension in your body easing up, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes his thick tip into your tight hole. You whimper at the delicious stretch, the pain easily overshadowed by the sound of Iwaizumi’s heavy breathing and little moans.
“I’m gonna go all in, baby or else it’s going to hurt a lot more”, you appreciate his warning because as he’s saying it, Iwaizumi thrusts the whole of his impressive length into your spasming cunt; pushing every bit of air out of your lungs and pushing you way too close to your second high of the night. You can’t help but whimper loudly, tears already streaming down your cheeks because of the beautiful feeling of pain and pleasure mixing inside of your veins from the intensity of the stretch.
Iwaizumi, as always the gentleman, gives you all the time you need to adjust to his size; only growing slightly impatient as you still whine softly after two whole minutes yet you’re quick to lift your head again with quivering bottom lip and teary eyes, begging him to just fuck you.
“Please, Daddy”, you sob, moving away from him in a desperate attempt for some kind of friction; your cunt spasming around his thick cock like crazy and you know you’re only a few thrust and some clit stimulation away from your next high, “please, fuck me.”
“My greedy little whore”, Iwaizumi grunts, pulling his cock out of you astonishingly slow with the sole purpose of teasing you, “you’re going to take what Daddy gives you, did you hear me?”
You moan as the feeling of his tip dragging alongside your spongy walls, your eyes rolling into the back of your head only to find your way back to reality with a couple of harsh spanks on your already sore ass.
“Good sluts answer when being talked to, pretty one”, he warns, thrusting his cock back into you with one quick snap of his hips; burying himself balls deep inside of your overly sensitive cunt.
“Yes, Daddy, yes”, you cry and look up at him with glossy eyes, “just please, fuck my stupid little cunt, please.” Iwaizumi lets out a row of deep chuckles followed by raspy groans in response to your perfect answer before he nods at you and mumbles a few soft praises right into your ear and then straightens himself again.
“Alright then, pretty one.”
Loud grunts fill your ears so beautifully, echoing through the thick air of your bedroom and in combination with the sound of skin meeting skin in a constant rhythm, you feel the exact way your body is slowly falling into the beautiful bliss of another high.
Iwaizumi fucks you fast, harsh and rough. There’s nothing soft and romantic about the way his hips are meeting yours in a steady rhythm; making sure to hit that sweet spot deep inside of your pussy with every single one of his thrusts as he continues to use his whole strength on your burning ass.
But not once do you even think about telling him to go easier on you; this iwaizumi the one you’ve been imagining for all those years.
It doesn’t take long for him to wrap his strong arm around your chest to pull you up, his fingers also finding their way back home around your delicate throat.
“Look at you, baby”, he groans right into your ear, making you open your eyes and meet your own reflection in the mirror, “you’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t comprehend it.”
You stare at yourself with your lips parted in awe, eyes falling to the sight of Iwaizumi’s thick cock stretching your tiny cunt before you go back to trying to recognize yourself.
Because for the first time in literal years, you don’t hate what you see and even if it’s because of IWaizumi’s strong body right behind you, you still feel this certain type of warmth blossoming in your chest.
"Feels so good, baby", he groans, throwing his head back as the movements of his hips start to become slightly sloppier, a little more uncontrolled, "so tight and warm, so fucking perfect", Hajime’s voice breaks at the end of his soft praise because of your walls clenching around his cock even more the closer you get to the edge.
You start feeling dizzy, your sight turning into a blurr and at some point you can’t even in- or exhale without letting out a shaky moan.
Iwaizumi looks at you with wide, hungry eyes, the feeling of your walls gripping his cock like a goddamn vice sending him into an ecstatic state and the longer he watches you getting lost in the pleasure, the more he struggles to keep his rhythm.
You’re mumbling incoherent sentences, desperately trying to tell the brunette about how close you are whereas the pleasure makes it absolutely impossible for you to form a proper sentence.
“Are you going to cum for me again, baby?”, Iwaizumi grunts, tightening his grip on your throat, making you gasp for air as you nod in response to his question.
“My perfect little slut”, he sighs, his hand reaching down to rub your hard, throbbing clit with two of his rough digits, “fucking do it. Cum for your Daddy like the good whore you are.”
And just like a few minutes prior, those words are the last straw and eventually make you stumble over the edge head first. Your walls start spasming around Iwa’s cock like crazy, your loud moans and soft cries are the only thing he can focus on and without missing another minute, Iwaizumi also lets himself get consumed by the beautiful feeling of relief.
Iwa hips still, his cock buried deeply inside of your tight sex as he coats your walls with his creamy cum. Your new boyfriend gets lost in the feeling of finally getting to cum inside of you after waiting for so many years; feeding the fantasy of getting to claim you in the most intimate way possible. He buries his face in the sweaty crook of your neck, his rapid breath fanning your skin as the two of you try to calm down from your intense highs. Your hand finds its way into his dark hair, massaging his scalp with your eyes closed and your legs still shaking from the aftermath of your breathtaking orgasm. Without pulling out of you, despite his own release leaking out of you and down the sides of his cock, Iwaizumi makes you lay down with him; just tightly holding you in his arms.
A few minutes filled with nothing but soft breathing pass by before you finally find the strength to move again; the sudden need to look at Iwaizumi’s completely fucked out face overwhelming you in the best way possible. And when you turn around to look at him, you’re met with a breathtaking sight.
Messy strands of sweaty hair falling into his flushed face, swollen lips and glossy eyes sparkling at you in a way you’ve never seen before and in that moment you feel yourself falling in love with Iwaizumi all over again.
“I’m so in love with you”, you whisper and caress the soft skin of his cheeks, loving the way he moves even further into your touch.
“Always and forever only yours, pretty one”, Iwaizumi sighs and presses his forehead against yours.
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࿏ A/N: And here it finally is! My first x chubby reader fic!! As a chubby someone who’s been reading fanficion for a long time, I’ve always craved some kind of representation and now I finally got to join this side of the community and I’m more than just happy about the way it turned out. I genuinely hope you guys will enjoy this and find comfort the same way I did while writing this. Please feel free to leave any sort of feedback if you enjoyed it and thank you so much for everything.
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heliads · 3 years ago
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Patch Me Up
Thomas can’t help but set his heart on the prettiest Med-Jack in the Glade, Y/N L/N. The only problem is that Thomas is fairly sure that she’s way out of his league.
masterlist
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The first time Thomas winds up in the med-jack clinic, he’s kind of embarrassed about it.
It wasn’t like he really meant to injure himself, anyway. It just so happened that he was really behind on clearing the weeds from whatever woebegotten section of the gardens the track hoes had allowed him to use, and Newt and Zart had stepped away for the time being, so Thomas got the bright idea to grab a longer blade from their casual resting place in the grass and try to lop all of the vines down before his friends saw. It was a great idea, of course, until his shins happened to be in the way.
Now Thomas is standing in the middle of his garden plot, blood leaking down into the soil, and all he can think about is the fact that he has no idea where to go from here. The vines have all been savagely cut away, which is perfect for him, but it’s too late to hide the bloodstain on the blade or the smear of red on his leg. He doesn’t really know what he expects Newt to say when he finds out, but he definitely doesn’t expect the blond boy to start laughing.
“Jeez, Greenie, you really are a klutz. First you trip while running to the Maze when you’re not even five minutes out of the Box, then you manage to stab yourself while gardening. How do you do it?” Thomas glares at his friend, who’s almost doubled over laughing now. “It’s not like it happened on purpose. Besides, I didn’t stab myself, it’s just a scratch.” Newt attempts to control himself. “Right, I’m sure about that. Not sure why you would go around slicing yourself, but I’m not about to question you. Come on, then, you’ll have to get the med-jacks to see to that.”
Thomas frowns, but follows Newt as the blond second in command starts to lead him away from the gardens and back towards the buildings of the Homestead and the center of the Glade. “The med-jacks?” Newt nods. “They’re what passes for doctors around here. They’ll fix you up with some bandages and antibiotics and you’ll be good to go, so long as you don’t stab yourself when trying to pick the tomatoes.” Newt was expecting Thomas’ attempt to hit him and dodges easily, which is unfortunate.
Eventually, Newt and Thomas enter a door into a structure that’s less a building and more just a hut. A roof is propped up on logs and twigs and whatever else the Builders could find, and Thomas can see rows of beds and tins of medical supplies lying around. It’s a mess, that’s for sure, but what isn’t in the Glade? Thomas has to hurry over to Newt, who’s already disappearing around a corner. 
When Thomas catches up with Newt again, he’s surprised to see the blond boy talking to someone, a bright smile on his face. Newt, upon seeing Thomas approach, beckons for him to come over. “This is Thomas, by the way. Thomas, this is Y/N. She’s the one who patches most of us up around here.” 
All of a sudden, Thomas feels like he’s been caught in the middle of a sunspot. There’s a girl in front of him now, a beautiful girl that makes Thomas wonder how on Earth he hasn’t seen her around before. He’s sure that he would remember her- even now, he’s doing his best to carefully memorize every detail of her face and hands and smile so he can cherish the memory for the days to come. She’s gorgeous, that much is certain, and she’s looking at him with so much happiness over just him that Thomas wants to grin stupidly.
However, he can’t just stand here gaping like an idiot, so he closes his mouth and manages a nod in greeting. Newt, watching with a raised eyebrow, seems to be enjoying this. “Don’t get too infatuated, Greenie. Y/N’s used to all of us and so she won’t ever go out with any of us. That’s just how it is.” Y/N laughs. “Maybe I’m just sick of the rest of you coming in here all the time to bother me.” Newt shrugs. “That too.”
They talk for a few moments, then Y/N claps her hands together, almost startling Thomas. “Right, Greenie, what’s your problem? I mean, what happened that would bring you to the med-jack hut?” Newt grins first at Thomas, then at Y/N. “I’m going to let you explain that one, greenbean. I’ll meet you back in the gardens.” With that, and a parting wave, Thomas is left alone with the closest thing to an angel he’s ever found in his life.
He doesn’t have time to sit and think about this, though. Y/N’s still regarding him expectantly, and Thomas can feel his cheeks start to heat up at the ridiculousness of his injury. Of course, the first time he meets a girl like Y/N he has to do it by the stupidest of means. Thomas gestures roughly towards his leg. “I, uh, accidentally cut myself.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “While in the gardens?” Thomas nods. “While in the gardens.” 
He half expects her to laugh at him like Newt had, but instead she shrugs and reaches for a roll of bandages and some ointment. “Not the worst injury I’ve seen, or the worst story. You should have seen the things Newt used to come in here for. I think he once twisted an ankle when he was walking too close to a tree and forgot to move out of the way.” Thomas almost snorts. “He what?” Y/N looks up at him, halfway through treating his cut. There’s a laugh dancing behind her eyes that makes Thomas’ smile widen in spite of itself.
“Yeah, he tripped over a tree. We all thought it was hilarious and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for weeks. Ask him and he’ll deny it, of course, but it happened nonetheless.” Thomas’ cheeks almost hurt from smiling this much. “Is that why he limps all the time? He hurt himself doing something like that?” All of a sudden, Y/N’s smile slips away from her. There’s a look in her eyes that tells Thomas that something happens, something bad that she can’t seem to shake. “No, not that.”
She stands up now, pressing a roll of bandages into his hands. “Here, that should hold for a while. Change your bandages before you go to bed, you don’t need me for that. It’s a shallow cut, so you’ll be fine.” Thomas wants to curse himself. Why’d he have to bring that up and make her feel so bad? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Y/N forces a smile, which is almost as bad to see as if she’d just started glaring at him. “No, it’s fine. You should probably go back to the gardens, though. I think Newt is waiting.”
Before he knows it, Thomas is standing outside the med-jack hut, staring at the door closed right in front of him. For a moment, all he can do is just stay there and think about what just happened. Thomas thought that whatever had happened to Newt was old, an injury that happened a while ago. Judging by Y/N’s reaction, though, it’s still fresh in her mind, and now he’s gone and reminded her of it. What does he do about that?
The second time Thomas finds himself in the med-jack hut, he does his best to avoid it.
It wasn’t like this injury was all that bad. Still embarrassing, still ended up with blood on his hands, but he didn’t need to go to the med-jacks, he’d be fine. That’s what Thomas tried to tell Minho, anyway, but his friend wouldn’t listen. “If you end up getting that cut infected, it’ll be a lot worse and Y/N will kill us all. Just go, you’ll be in and out in ten seconds and it’ll be fine.” Thomas tries his best to protest and come up with excuses to stay away from the flimsy hospital room, but in the end, Minho won’t take no for an answer, practically dragging him towards the hut anyway.
It’s not like Thomas has a particular aversion to getting medical treatment, it’s just that he’s afraid to see the girl there waiting for him. Ever since that day, when he’d mistakenly brought up Newt’s injury, Thomas can’t help but feel guilty. He can’t figure out quite what it was that would make Y/N’s seemingly ever-bright eyes darken like an approaching storm, but it was definitely something he’d said. He’s not sure that Y/N will really want to talk to him, as she’d more than given that impression by shooing him out of her workplace, so he’s done his best to avoid the med-jack hut.
However, he can’t exactly tell all this to Minho, so all Thomas can do is try his best to argue his friend out of a trip to the hut. Minho refuses, of course, and Thomas finds himself waiting in the med-jack hut a few minutes later, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. He sends up a silent prayer to whoever is listening that he’ll get Clint or Jeff, but when he hears someone say his name in a surprised voice, he recognizes it as Y/N and Y/N alone.
She walks over to them, holding a thermometer from where she’d been organizing a box of supplies recently arrived from the Box. “What’s up, you guys?” Minho jerks his thumb towards Thomas with a grimace. “This shank went and cut himself on the walls of the Maze while we were out running. He tripped and caught himself, but his shoulder bit it. It was kind of funny, actually.” Y/N playfully swats Minho while she walks by. “No making fun of injuries, Minho. We’ve talked about this. I’m the only one who gets to do that.”
Now she’s standing in front of Thomas, grimacing in sympathy at the small bloodstain over his shoulder blade. “You’ll need to clean that up pretty soon. Minho, you go ahead to the Map Room. I’ll take care of Thomas.” Minho flashes her a thumbs up, already starting to jog out of the room. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Y/N grins as she watches him go, then turns back to Thomas, who’s still standing there with apprehension rising in his chest. What is he supposed to say now? Sorry I brought up what might have been a traumatic incident in your past, I didn’t know and kind of felt loopy whenever you smiled at me? Yeah, that wouldn’t really work out too well.
As it turns out, he doesn’t have to think at all. She’s already conjuring up a fresh grin for him, an inquisitive expression on her face. “You know, usually whenever Greenies show up, they go through the same routine of showing up here with fake injuries just to see the one girl in the Glade, but seeing as Minho had to physically drag you here, I don’t think that’s the case. Bandages again?” Thomas manages to nod. “Sure, that sounds great.”
Y/N’s already spinning back across the room to grab the roll of bandages, but she holds up a finger in the air just in case. “That’s good, because I wasn’t asking. That’s a little check, just to make sure you aren’t out of your shucking mind.” Thomas snorts. “Who isn’t?” Y/N laughs as she starts to dress the wound. “Well, I was kind of wondering if you were. You’ve practically been avoiding me ever since we met.”
Thomas has to admit that this is true- in all of his fear to misspeak again, he’s been constantly passing up opportunities to talk to Y/N again. He doesn’t sit next to her at meals, he doesn’t cross the bonfire to say hello. Looking back at it now, it does look as if he’s been trying to distance himself, even if that couldn’t be further from how he felt. Thomas scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Maybe I’m still a dumb Greenie who doesn’t know how to talk to the one girl in the Glade.”
Y/N rolls her eyes. “That’s a lie and you know it. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?” There’s a hesitancy in her question, like she’s second-guessing herself. Thomas almost rushes over himself in his haste to convince her that this isn’t her fault. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just- I know I upset you the last time we talked, and I felt bad about that. I guess I just kind of figured that you wouldn’t want to see me for a while.”
Y/N looks up at him in surprise, bandages forgotten. “What are you talking about? Thomas, that was a one time thing, I swear. It was just a hard day and a hard memory, nothing more. Shuck, you’ve been guilting yourself over this the entire time?” Thomas shrugs, a slight smile on his lips. “Well, not the whole time.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, he clarifies. “Maybe a little bit more than most of the time. Okay, a lot.”
Y/N giggles, and Thomas almost wants to make a fool of himself a few more times just to hear it. “Consider this whole thing over and done. I officially forgive you for something that I forgot about an hour after the conversation.” She grins, and Thomas grins with her. “That sounds good to me.” Y/N nods, taking a step backward to consider her work. “You know what would sound good to me? If you stopped injuring yourself all the time. I mean, I go through a roll of bandages like every hour.”
Thomas scoffs. “That’s because there are more shanks in the Glade than just me, Y/N. I’m not the only one getting hurt.” Y/N points at him to further her point. “Yeah, you’d better not. In fact, simply stop being injured. Easy as that.” He can’t help but laugh, and Y/N’s eyes sparkle triumphantly at this. “You’ve got a nice laugh, Thomas.” As with anyone else, Thomas’ laugh dries up slightly when he hears this truth, like the second he’s complimented he has to hide that very thing.
He doesn’t know what to do now, where to go from here. All he can really do is stand here and watch her smiling at him. To be honest, Thomas is fairly sure that’s all he would ever want to do. He knows it’s time for him to leave and stop bothering her, but Y/N’s looking at him like she just might give him a chance, so he decides to offer her one. “I hear they’re having a bonfire later tonight. Want to go with me?” Y/N’s grin broadens. “Absolutely.”
Just like that, Thomas’ day is made.
maze runner tag list: the a-maze-ing (haha) @underc0vercryptid​, @ellobruv
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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago
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Version of You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot
Call 1-800-799-7233 if you think you are in danger/a victim of domestic violence, or visit this website for resources, live chat, and more (for the USA). This is a link to the wikipedia page that has international resources. 
(I wanted to put that first because this fic deals with an abusive relationship and some scenes show the abuse. If you relate to any this, please seek help via the resources above. I want desperately to say my DMs are open, but for my own mental wellbeing, I have to let you know that the resources that I give above are about all I can do to help. You’re welcome to DM me if needed, but please know that it might take me a minute to reply, and I still will point you in the direction of resources that can better help you. I love and support and am with every single one of you, but I can only do so much through a screen xx.)
This is 100% a comfort fic, but I am safe and okay, I promise 💛 (Truthfully, this was really therapeutic to write.)
Small note: mental and verbal abuse is depicted here, not physical (though it does come close), but I wanted to remind you that just because abuse isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not harmful or real. Mental and verbal abuse is still abuse.
Summary: Hotch helps you find the courage within you to end your abusive relationship for good.
Warnings: depiction of an abusive relationship, verbal/mental abuse, violence (domestic and otherwise), angst, happy ending
Hotch Masterlist
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Aaron is stunned and disappointed to find you’re still at your desk when he walks out of his office at the grand hour of 8 p.m.
You don’t even hear his office door open or close, but you do hear his footsteps on the stairs. By the time he reaches your desk to say goodnight, you’re already attempting to cover up any traces of emotion on your cheeks.
But Aaron is a profiler. On top of that, though, he’s one of your best friends. He’s known you for six years now, and given how much time the BAU members spend together on cases, he’d argue he knows every single person here better than they know themselves.
You’d agree. You hardly know who you are anymore. But somehow, Aaron knows. Aaron can see.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, already setting his bag down, already pulling a chair over, already sitting next to you.
You’re ready to tell him it’s nothing, to tell him to get home to Jack, that it isn’t important — but it is.
You’ve been with your current partner for almost eight years. Anyone would hear that and ask if marriage is on the horizon, or children, or something of the sort. But not Aaron. Because Aaron can see the pain in your eyes.
Truthfully, he’s seen that pain in your eyes for the past two years. Maybe more.
But recently, it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.
You’re on a “break” with your partner. Whatever a “break” even means, because you still receive phone calls and texts from them all day. You send the calls to voicemail unless you absolutely aren’t doing anything, and the texts you reply to with one word.
Going home is fine because your partner is gone — for now. Work called them away, so you’re home alone for at least another three days, but you expect they’ll want you to pick them up from the airport.
You’ve never longed for a case the way you’re longing for one right now.
This “break” has been easiest because your partner has been gone. You know if they were here, it wouldn’t have been a break at all.
“It’s made me realize that I...I want a break. A real break.”
“You want to break up,” Aaron says it for you, knowing you’re too afraid.
Your hesitant nod confirms this for him. “I do. I think I really do.”
Aaron has known the relationship hasn’t been the healthiest. You don’t open up about your personal life that much at work — you never have — but it has always been telling that you never go out for drinks with the team. And when you did, you’d have to answer texts every ten minutes. Your partner never accepted an invite to join the team for drinks or dinner, but would often get angry at you for being out, as if you hadn’t tried to invite them.
Raised voices, broken glass. Not a single hand was ever laid on you. No, instead, it was a wine glass your mom gifted to you when you graduated college when your partner was angry that you had gone out for drinks with the team after a difficult case. A coffee mug you gifted your partner for their birthday faced the brunt of their anger when you didn’t reply to a text message fast enough — because you were parking your car in the garage. Plates, picture frames. A coffee table once, three years ago. It had been a house warming present.
But they’ve never hurt me, you always argue — only with yourself. No one knows the truth, that you clean up after their outbursts, that you’re grateful to have some knowledge of first aid so you can tend to your cuts from the broken glass, or so that you could stitch up your partner’s hand with ease, because hospitals are expensive and the excuses you’d have to fabricate even more so.
They always apologize. Which is true. Apologies are frequent in your house. Sometimes verbal, sometimes in the form of flowers either on your desk at the BAU (that only Hotch seems to notice with a sad smile) or left on the counter at home. Sometimes, rarely, a fancy dinner and some gift, usually a necklace.
“If you need any help at all,” Aaron says, looking you in your eyes, carefully, intently. “I’m here. For anything.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. Your stomach rumbles loudly in the silence, making you chuckle awkwardly.
“Hungry?” He jokes, but is half serious. “I was planning to get something on the way home, if you’d like to join.”
You think it over for a moment. Your mind immediately jumps to say no because you think your partner is home...but they aren’t.
“Sure,” you say. “Why not. What’s on the menu?”
You gather your things and Hotch waits patiently, rattling off some ideas for food to eat until one grabs your attention.
Your phone buzzes with a text. Where are you?
Aaron notices your change in posture with a sigh. “Is that them?”
You nod slowly. “Asking where I am.” You quickly type back, Still at the BAU.
The reply is almost immediate, as always. Just checking. Love you.
Relief washes over you as you type back, Love you too.
Aaron doesn’t like what he sees. The panic that surges through you just from a text message, making you stand up straight, hold your breath, clench your jaw. Then the relief that relinquishes you when a reply comes and it isn’t negative for once. The sudden changes, the way your emotions are yanked back and forth. He hates it.
But he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he says, “Ready?” And waits for you to smile.
+++
Hotch really doesn’t mean for dinner with you to turn into somewhat of a routine. But it does.
It’s brought more smiles to your face than Hotch thinks he has ever seen in the past six years. And for that, he doesn’t regret the dinners.
Neither do you, until the worst thing that could possibly happen ends up happening one night, three weeks since the first dinner.
Your partner is going out with friends, so you think you’re in the clear to get dinner with Aaron. And when your partner asks where you are again, you say you’re still at the BAU. You were, but you and Aaron were in the elevator to leave when you sent that message.
The two of you grab dinner at one of your favorite spots, at a table outside because the weather is perfect, the sky is clear, and stars are beginning to show. It’s magical. Until it’s a nightmare.
“Well, well, well.”
The voice sends shivers down your spine. They’re supposed to be out with friends.
Aaron automatically stands, shoulders squared and face set. He’s wearing his gun, and you are, too, but you’d never use it on your partner. You can’t say the same about Hotch, though, and that terrifies you.
“Babe,” you say with a smile, and Hotch tenses, hearing the pet name fall so easily form your lips. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with your friends?”
Your partner crosses their arms over their chest. “And I thought you were still at work.”
“We are,” Hotch speaks up, startling you. “We’re discussing a case.”
Your partner looks around, raising their eyebrows. “I don’t see any papers.”
“Because we went digital five years ago,” Hotch replies coolly. “But aside from that, a federal investigation is none of your business.”
You swallow thickly, waiting for your partner’s reply.
But to your surprise, they only nod. “I understand, sir. I was only checking.”
Hotch holds back a scoff, but instead returns the nod. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Your partner holds their hands up in surrender. “Of course.”
“I’ll see you at home,” you say quickly. “Love you.”
“See you at home,” they reply, making you frown as they turn and walk away.
When you look back at Hotch, you nearly scream. It takes everything in you not to make the hugest scene right there, outside this nice restaurant, underneath these stars.
Your phone buzzes. One hour. Do not be late.
“Y/N—”
“Don’t,” you say quietly. “Just. Don’t, Hotch.”
+++
The next day, you knock on Hotch’s office door, twenty dollar bill in hand to pay him back for your dinner last night. You left in a hurry and didn’t get to pay. Thankfully, at least, arriving home with forty minutes to spare saved you from an even worse reaction from your partner.
“For dinner last night,” you mumble, sliding the twenty across Hotch’s desk. “Thank you.”
As you turn on your heel to leave, Hotch calls out to you. “I’m sorry.”
You sigh. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Aaron says, making you turn back around. “I hope you’re...alright.”
You’re so very far from being “alright” that you almost laugh. Instead, you shrug. “It’s been worse.”
“Did they hit you?”
You’re too shocked to move. “What? No! Why the hell would you even say that?”
“Because I’ve been worried about you.”
“They have never laid a hand on me,” you snap. “Ever.”
“But they’ve come close,” Aaron says gently. “You know they have.”
You only scoff. You feel hurt. Insulted, even, that he would assume something like that. Your relationship with your partner is rocky, of course, but never physical abuse rocky. Never that bad.
But has it come close?
Sure, maybe you’ve felt the wind off a beer bottle when it grazed by your head on its way to the wall. Maybe you have had to duck to avoid getting glass to the face. Maybe.
Maybe they have come close. Closer than you want to admit.
But they’ve also loved you. Held you while you cried. Rewarded you after you cleaned up the broken glass. Left you flowers and jewelry and love notes.
They love you. Don’t they?
“It’s fine,” you whisper, blinking back the stubborn tears that have jumped to the front of your eyes. “They love me.”
“Love isn’t violent,” Aaron replies gently. “Love shouldn’t make you as terrified as I saw you when you left last night.”
“I know,” you choke out. “But I don’t know what to do.”
Hotch is rounding his desk and gathering you in his arms before the first tear slips down your cheeks. He holds you while you cry, letting you get it all out.
“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “Don’t worry.”
+++
It all comes to a head a few nights later when your partner springs a question on you. The question.
There, standing in the bathroom, you’re too stunned to speak.
“What d’you say, baby? Let’s get married, you and me.”
You don’t reply. You toss the makeup wipe in your trash can, flick the light in the bathroom off, and walk out into the bedroom.
“Baby?” They ask.
You’re facing the dresser, halfway to setting out a pair of pants for work tomorrow. “I...I can’t.”
“What?” Their reply is immediate and angry. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t,” you repeat, refusing to change your answer. “No.”
By the time you turn around, they’re standing up from the bed, arms crossed over their chest. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said no,” you say firmly. “I’m not marrying you.”
“And why not?”
“I—”
“Are you seeing someone else?”
“What?”
“Your boss? Are you fuckin’ him?”
“No!”
“Then why won’t you marry me?”
“Because I don’t want to!”
You’ve never raised your voice back at your partner. They’ve always been the one to raise their voice, and you stayed silent, tried to talk them down, be the quiet voice of reason.
But not anymore. You’ve had enough.
“You don’t want to?” They scream. “It’s been eight years and now you don’t want to. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
“I’m not,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“Baby…” They sigh, stepping closer, lowering their arms. “Why not?”
“Because,” you reply slowly, backing up. “Just because.”
“That’s not a good enough reason and you know it.”
“It’s good enough for me,” you say. You step to the side and keep backing out into the hallway, getting ready to run if need be.
“Where are you going?” They all but growl. “What’s wrong with you?”
You’re scaring me, you want to scream, but you don’t. “I’m fine.”
“You’re fine? Well I’m for damn sure not fine, I’m heartbroken,” they seethe. You see the tell-tale signs that they’re about to get angry — angry enough to start throwing things. You realize in a moment of horror that a paperweight is within their reach.
And they reach for it.
“Don’t,” you murmur, freezing when their fingers wrap around the glass. “Put it down.”
“Why?” They ask, calm as ever. “Don’t you want to see what you’ve just done to my heart?”
You shake your head slowly. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, no!” Your reflexes have gotten better since being at the FBI, and you duck right in time. The paperweight crashes against the wall behind you, shattering, denting the wall, and covering the couch in fine pieces of broken glass.
“See what you’ve done!” Your partner screams. “This could’ve been easy! You could’ve said yes!”
You spot your car keys on the counter next to you, and when they turn their back to you to grip at their hair, you slide the keys off and into your pocket.
I have to get out of here. It’s a thought that you never have. Normally by now you’d be vacuuming up the glass on the couch, apologizing every five seconds, pouring them a glass of whiskey or a beer or something. But not now. Not anymore.
You’re a few steps from the door when your partner notices. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Nowhere,” you freeze. “Go take a shower. Cool off. I’ll clean up this mess and then we can talk about this again, okay?”
They almost don’t accept your offer, but after a second, they nod. “There better be a beer waiting on me when I get out.”
“Of course,” you smile.
Your smile makes them suspicious, but they turn and head into the bedroom without another word.
Shaking, you turn to the closet to grab the vacuum, turning it on and beginning to suck up the glass off the couch.
But when you hear the shower curtain pull closed, you escape, leaving the vacuum running.
+++
It’s pouring down rain, you aren’t wearing any shoes, and you’re knocking on your boss’s front door. Can your life get any more pathetic?
When Aaron opens the door, he’s practically hauling you inside and out of the rain.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, already leading you down the hall toward the bathroom. “You’re shivering, we need to get you out of these clothes — you aren’t wearing shoes, fuck, Y/N, what happened?”
“They asked me to marry them,” you choke out. You aren’t even crying. You haven’t cried yet at all. “I said no. They almost hit me.”
Aaron feels a dangerous surge of anger course through his body. “Did they hit you?”
You shake your head, and it turns into a full-body shiver.
“Okay,” Aaron says, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Okay, let me get some clothes for you. Do you want to take a shower?”
You shake your head again.
“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
You sit, shivering, on your boss’s toilet for a few minutes before he returns with clothes. A t-shirt and pair of sweatpants of his. Old ones, he says, they don’t fit him anymore. You smile slightly when you realize the shirt is from his college, the sweatpants from his law school. No wonder they don’t fit him anymore.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” you say. “I—I think I left my phone there.”
“It’s okay,” Aaron shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. Just get changed and get warm. Do you want some tea? Anything?”
“Just some water, please,” you murmur. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he smiles.
After he leaves, you change out of your wet clothes and into his shirt and sweatpants. You carefully hang your wet shirt and shorts over the edge of the bathtub, hoping that’s okay.
You venture out of the bathroom and follow the noise into the kitchen where you find Aaron putting up dishes.
“Hey,” he murmurs, straightening up. “Do you want ice with your water?”
“Um, sure.”
The sound of ice clinking into the glass makes you flinch, and you’re grateful Aaron’s back is turned away from you.
“There you go,” he hands you the glass.
“Thank you.”
You sip it quietly while he goes back to putting up the rest of the clean dishes in the dishwasher. Once he finishes, your heart is still racing, now with guilt from coming here unannounced. What if he was on a date? What if Jack was here?
“The guest room is all yours,” Aaron says softly. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
You nod slowly. “I don’t know what to do.” You pause, rubbing your thumb over the condensation on the glass. “But I told them I’m not marrying them. But I...I didn’t tell them I was leaving. Or where I was going.”
“Good, that’s good.”
“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not. They’re gonna be mad. I can’t— Oh my god, I can’t go back. Not alone, they’ll—”
“Hey,” Aaron shushes you, walking around the counter to get to you. “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure it out. I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone.”
“Thank you.”
+++
The next morning, you and Aaron head into the office early so you have time to grab your go-bag and change into your work clothes that you left in there.
Thank God for having a job like this where it’s normal to have a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and anything else you need in a duffle bag under your desk.
You and Aaron are the first people in the BAU, so you’re able to grab your bag and head to the bathroom to change without any questions. Once you return, you stuff the bag back under your desk and sit down, ready to bury yourself in reports for the day.
But before you can, Hotch calls you into his office.
“What’s up?” You ask when you step into the doorway.
“We didn’t eat breakfast,” he says, and that’s when you notice the two coffees and muffins sitting on his desk.
“Oh,” you chuckle. “I completely forgot.”
“Me too,” he smiles. “Here, sit.”
The two of you eat the breakfast in silence, but somehow you don’t mind it. You’re not in much of a talking mood, anyway.
Rossi arrives next and stops by Hotch’s office, not at all surprised to find the two of you eating together, though he does join with his coffee a few minutes later. The silence vanishes with Rossi, leaving laughter in its wake as he tells old stories about Hotch.
When the rest of the team arrives, they follow the noise to Hotch’s office, and soon you’re surrounded by your family. Your real family.
Once eight-thirty rolls around, you all begin to disperse, back to your respective spaces to start working for the day, and everything feels normal.
And then, in a matter of seconds, it isn’t.
The second your eyes land on your partner standing down in the bullpen, you fall to your knees, scaring the shit out of Hotch.
“What happened?” He blurts, kneeling down to you. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you shake your head. “No, no, no...No, Hotch, they’re out there.”
Hotch doesn’t need their name. The fear on your face is enough.
About this time, you hear Derek’s voice growing in volume. The most you can make out is, “Put...down…!” And that’s when your blood runs ice cold.
You pat your right hip, hoping, praying, your weapon is magically there, even though you know it’s not. You put it in the safe when you got home last night. You didn’t have time to grab it before you ran out and drove to Hotch’s place. You left it there, in the safe, because you never think twice about it since it’s locked away.
But now…
“Don’t do this, man,” Derek yells. “Put. It. Down.”
“Where is she?” Your partner yells. “Tell me where she is!”
“I’m not telling you shit until you put the gun down,” Derek says, firmly. You’re frozen in place, on the floor next to Hotch’s desk as you listen.
“They have my gun,” you whisper to Hotch. “I didn’t think they— I don’t know how they knew the code, I change it every week, I thought—”
“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Hotch shushes you. “You stay here. Do not move. Try to get under my desk if you can.” He pauses. “There’s an extra pistol underneath. I want you to grab it just in case.”
You nod, but then a memory of last night grips you. “No! You can’t go out there!” You hiss, gripping Hotch’s arm.
Outside, you hear Emily’s voice adding to Derek’s, trying to talk your partner down. It’s a scene out of a horror movie. Straight from your worst nightmare.
“They already feel threatened by you, they’ll just shoot you the second they see you.”
“Not when they already have five guns on them.”
“Let me come with you,” you offer.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Aaron, I have eight years of experience talking them down. I know what I’m doing.”
Hotch doesn’t like that you’re right.
“Are you sure?” He asks.
You nod. You’re shaking all over, but you still nod.
“Okay. Crawl over and grab the pistol from my desk. Tuck it in your waistband, on your back. Go now.”
You stay low as you crawl over, finding the pistol strapped underneath his desk on the right side. Once it’s tucked in your waistband, you stand, facing the window. Hotch stands too, with his back to the blinds, and thank God they’re closed.
“Is she in there?” You hear your partner scream. “Is she with him?”
“Shit,” you mutter. “Shit, shit, shit, they’re gonna fucking kill me.” You hate that the possibility is very real. They have your gun. They could shoot you the second they see you. You’re not wearing any protective gear.
“No,” Hotch replies. “I’m not letting that happen.”
“Come out here, you lying bitch!”
Hotch looks ready to kill your partner himself.
“Babe?” You call out, putting on a false tone, the same one you always use when talking them down. “Babe, what are you doing here?”
You step into the doorway, feeling another frozen chill of fear shoot straight down your spine. They look crazed. Insane, even. Worse than you’ve ever seen, worse than last night, worse than the last eight years.
“Don’t babe me,” your partner seethes, but the gun is still trained on Derek.
You know it makes no sense, but you want them to turn the gun on you. Not Derek. Derek can’t be hurt because of you, not like this.
“Put the gun down,” you say, trying to stay calm and sweet, the way you usually have to be at home.
“I’m not listening to a damn thing you say,” your partner yells, and then the gun turns on you. “There he is.” The gun isn’t aimed at you. It’s on Aaron.
“Put it down,” Aaron’s level voice floats through the terror roaring in your ears. “I won’t ask again.” He shifts and you realize then that he has his own weapon trained on your partner.
“You won’t need to. Come out from behind my fiancé you coward.”
“She’s not your fiancé,” Hotch says. “And you won’t shoot her.”
“Want to bet on it?” Your partner lowers the gun slightly, now pointing it straight at your chest. Strangely, you don’t feel any panic surge through you. It’s telling. That even now, your head is telling you, they won’t hurt me, they never hurt me before.
“Don’t do it,” Derek yells. “I will shoot you, man. Don’t do it. You have six guns pointed at you right now. Do you really want to do this?”
The metal of Aaron’s pistol bites into your lower back when you shift on your heels. Your arms are frozen by your side, too afraid to reach for the gun.
“Put it down,” Rossi yells.
“You’ve got five seconds,” Derek adds. “Don’t make me get to one. Five. Four.”
Your partner’s fingers twitch on the trigger. Aaron catches the movement. Nods once when Derek says three. And on two, Derek pulls the trigger before your partner can do it first.
A broken scream rips from your chest when the bullet lodges itself in your partner’s side, your gun clattering to the ground. Derek steps forward and kicks the gun further away, out of reach.
Hotch lifts you around your waist and pulls you back into his office, kicking the door closed with his foot.
You’re numb to everything as he sits you down on the couch, wrapping his arms around you as you finally sob, letting out every scream that you’ve been holding in.
+++
Your partner is taken to the hospital to be treated for the gunshot wound.
Hotch tells you they won’t stand a chance at being acquitted, too many charges looming over their head already without the addition of domestic violence. You hardly hear his words, but you nod like you do.
He takes care of you while the commotion outside struggles to calm down. A blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, you hug a pillow to your chest, sniffling every few minutes as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks. Spencer brings you a mug of steaming tea that you barely manage to thank him for. Hotch thanks him properly for you before softly shutting his office door.
For months, you’ve been thinking about leaving them. For so long, you’ve wondered what life might be like without them. Now, you don’t know a thing.
You don’t know what to do. Where to go. Will you have to testify in court? If you do, will you have to talk about the...abuse? The abuse that you can barely bring yourself to label blatantly as abuse even though Aaron, your brain, everyone screams at you that that’s what it is — abusive behavior.
When you were a teenager, and even in your early twenties, learning about signs of abusive, unhealthy relationships, you never thought you’d end up in one. You thought surely you’d recognize the first signs and get out of there.
But instead, you did exactly what they said most people do. You brushed them off. You thought, oh, they just love me deeply, that’s all. They want what’s best for me, that’s all. They want me to be safe and protected, that’s all.
And that’s lovely, but there’s a difference. Between caring and controlling.
You never thought the difference would be so hard to see.
“Come on,” Aaron’s soft voice pierces through your thoughts. “Let’s get you out of here.”
You blink. “Where?”
“Wherever you want to go,” he replies gently. “Your apartment?”
Immediately, you shake your head. But then you pause. Because aside from your apartment and the BAU, you have nowhere else to go.
“Would you be comfortable going back to my apartment?” He asks. “I understand if it’s uncomfortable. I’m sure Garcia or Prentiss would be happy to let you stay with them, and I’ll gladly send them home with you.”
As much as you love Garcia and Prentiss, you strangely feel more comfortable with Aaron. After all, Pen and Emily don’t— or didn’t know about your partner’s behavior. Only Hotch knew.
“If you don’t mind, I’m...I’m okay with your place.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he smiles. “The guest room is yours for as long as you need.”
That makes you smile, though the expression feels foreign on your lips. “Don’t you have to stay?”
“It can be dealt with tomorrow,” he replies. “The paperwork will still exist tomorrow at eight a.m.”
“Okay,” you accept defeat. “Can I take this blanket?” You don’t like the idea of this weight leaving your shoulders.
“Of course,” he says.
You fall asleep in the car.
You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted. And by the time you woke, Aaron had already carried you into his apartment. Startled, you gripped his arm a little too tight, but he shushed you carefully, letting you know you’re safe, he just didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly.
He set you down on the guest bed where you tried and failed to get some rest last night, but now, you sleep like a baby.
+++
Months after the incident, the guest room at Aaron’s apartment has become your temporary home.
You still haven’t been back to the apartment you owned with your partner — even though their name is on the lease, not yours. You went once with Aaron to pick up your clothes and anything else important, but it was a quick trip. You were desperate to get out of there.
Aaron didn’t like what he saw. The broken glass, the dents in the walls. The way your body language changed immediately. Your unwillingness to return there is fine by him.
It’s a slow, uphill battle as you begin to heal. Your partner still sits in jail, awaiting their trial date. You know you might have to testify, but you know your team might have to be there as well, so that makes you feel better.
Aaron has been incredibly respectful of your space. You were the one who brought up the idea of carpooling to work, one of you driving every other day, to save on gas for the both of you. He had assumed you wanted to drive on your own and always have your car — which is true, but you didn’t mind riding with him.
He’s the only one your terrified brain doesn’t seem to be scared of.
And you’re not complaining. You’re grateful to feel a small ounce of safety after feeling every sense of unsafe for the past eight years.
+++
Your ex-partner’s trial comes and goes in the following three months. You did testify, along with the rest of your team, the verdict is guilty. Life in prison.
You wept on the steps of the courthouse from the sheer relief of it all.
“They’ll never hurt you again,” Aaron had told you and you didn’t believe him for one second.
Still now, as you know for a fact they are sitting in a prison cell, you have a small fear. But you think you always will.
You continue “rooming” with Aaron — that’s the best way you can think to put it — and you’ve come to really enjoy the weekends when Jack comes over. At the start, Aaron would try to take Jack out to the park to give you time alone, or you’d go spend some time with Penelope, but after a while, you started staying. And after a little while longer, Jack started warming up to you, and expecting your presence.
One weekend, you hear Jack and Aaron playing in the living room while you’re in Aaron’s office, trying to get some work done. And halfway through signing your name on a piece of paperwork, you hear Jack “whispering” to Aaron about you.
“Do you like her?” Jack whispers, but it definitely comes across as more of a soft shout.
Aaron’s eyes widen, and he presses his index finger to his lips. “A lot,” he says, but you don’t hear him — though you were straining pretty hard.
“Me too,” Jack giggles. “Is she your girlfriend?” He teases, poking his dad with his Lego sculpture.
Aaron pokes his son back with his own design. “No, buddy, she isn’t.” Again, you can’t hear him, but Jack’s question made your heart hammer in your chest.
You know you’ve had some feelings begin to develop because truthfully, they were blooming months ago, back when you began having dinner with Aaron. But then everything happened, and you still loved your ex, and things got too complicated.
Now, though, seven months out from the start of it all, the feelings are still there.
Aaron hasn’t made any moves, so you’ve kept silent. You don’t know how much of his good deeds are simply out of his own kindness. And you certainly don’t want to mistake it for something it’s not.
But kids pick up on things adults try hardest to hide.
You continue with your paperwork, listening to them continue to play.
It’s not until after Jack goes home to Hailey that his question is brought up, and it’s only because Aaron asked what was bothering you.
“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “But I’m here if you do.”
He’s always here. That’s what made you have a crush on him in the first place, years ago. He’s always there for anyone who needs him.
“I heard you and Jack earlier,” you start. “When he asked if I’m your girlfriend.”
Aaron sighs. “I’m sorry. I think it’s just confusing for him because to him, living together equals relationship since all he’s known is me and Hailey—”
“I’d like to be,” you interrupt his nervous rambling. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”
He blinks a few times, then smiles. “You…” He pauses. “Are you sure?”
“Aaron, I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything—”
“I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything,” he counters. “You’re serious?”
“Very,” you whisper.
When he kisses you, it’s what you’ve longed for all this time. It’s exactly what you’ve been yearning for. It’s exactly the kind of love you know now that you deserve.
Recovery has been messy, and will continue to be messy for some time, but you’ll have Aaron next to you every step of the way. Always.
801 notes · View notes
adorerdraco · 4 years ago
Text
It’s Only Quidditch ✧ Draco x Slytherin!Reader
Request: can i please request you and draco being in slytherin and dating for a while and you two are on the quidditch team with him so maybe you two are in a match together but you get hurt and he gets worried and has to win the game and visits you after and maybe even wrecks the person who hurt you hehe just fluff and angst
AU AROUND 6TH YEAR NO VOLDY
Warnings: angry!draco, vengeful!draco, VIOLENCE, kinda graphic details like blood and injuries, lil bit of angst
Words: 3.9K (love making these long for no reason)
A/N: ANGRY DRACO IS SO HOT IM SORRY WOW BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOOOD PLEASE ENJOY MY MADE UP CHARACTER AND MY SUPER LONG QUIDDITCH GAME THAT CONFUSED ME AFTER A WHILE OF TRYING TO WRITE LMAO and i made gif :)
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November had begun and with it came the new season of quidditch at Hogwarts along with very poor weather and over-bundling nerves. Tensions had always gotten high around this time of the year amongst the teams and all animosity between the house’s respective players was on the forefront as the competition was building. It was like clockwork every year; captain’s starting strenuous training schedules, begging Snape to help book the stadium even if it was already occupied, spying on other teams to figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention the arguments that would happen regularly in between the first couple of games when you and your teammates would be accused of cheating or using dangerous and illegal moves. Which did happen to be true most of the time.
It was safe to say that it was the most eventful time of the year, and as suffocating as it sometimes got - you looked forward to it every time the new term started. It was in quidditch that you found yourself feeling the freest in, zipping around the stadium in a flash of green with the wind blowing through your hair and crisp autumn air biting at your cheeks. But most notably, it was in quidditch that you met Draco Malfoy and had quickly evolved from teammates to friends, to him now being your boyfriend.
You made Slytherin’s team your second year as a Chaser, a shiny new broom being given to you on the first day of scheduled training when Lucius Malfoy had made a generous donation that came along with a new platinum blond seeker. With the two of you being the latest additions to the teams, your captain, Marcus Flint, had decided to leave the dirty work for the two of you to do in the downtime every one else was able to enjoy. Marcus never changed that as the years went on.
So you and Draco would be sent off to other teams’ practices nearly every other day or week, depending on how secure Flint was feeling, both of you huddling closely together for sometimes hours behind the thick wooden benches as you watched and studied tactics with conversations in between. You would joke around a lot and call him your partner in crime which he would always roll his eyes to and make a snide and playful comment about even if he secretly loved hearing it. And the two of you stayed partners in crime for a while, neither of you ever making any move towards the other besides lingering touches and longing looks, and very rarely, a shy compliment.
It wasn’t until last year when you were hiding behind the bleachers, bored out of your mind watching Ravenclaw have a flawless run through around the stadium when you were graced with the dumbest idea.
“They’re playing good today,” you drawled out, “too good that it’s boring.”
“You reckon they studied so hard and found the key to quidditch?” He snickered as he played around with a pebble on the ground with his wand.
“We should help them out,” you suggested as Draco turned to raise a puzzled eyebrow at you. “Prepare them for the unexpected, nothing too crazy.”
You took out your wand from your pocket and pointed it towards one of their Beaters that was sitting idly by on their broom, a faint “confundus” leaving your lips that caused the broom to jerk swiftly to the side and nearly topple over its rider.
“You’re a genius,” Draco laughed quietly, repositioning himself so that he was right beside you with his wand directed out into the field. He spotted one of the bludgers flying towards the same Beater and instead of colliding with the bat, he used a charm to direct it into the back of their broom and then doubled it back around to try and hit one of the passing by Chaser’s that moved at the very last minute. 
You were a giggling mess, gripping tightly onto Draco’s arm as you watched everyone begin to look around wildly for the wild bludger with panicked expressions. What either of you didn’t realize in the middle of your joyed hysterics and Draco’s smugness for causing the angelic sounds, was that the bludger was flying idly still in front of the bleacher’s as his wand was still trained on it without moving it around anymore, his focus completely gone and concentrated on you.
It wasn’t until you heard someone yell out a, “Is that Malfoy and Y/L/N back there again?!” That made you get up with a sudden jolt, grabbing onto your accomplice’s hand as you ran towards the set of stairs that descended out of the stands. All you heard was distant angry insults and threats quickly fading out of ear-shot while you ran, laughing uncontrollably alongside Draco with his hand still tightly gripped in yours. 
When you finally reached the entrance of the empty courtyard of the castle with flustered cheeks and wheezing chuckles, you looked down at your joined hands at the same time he did and after a few seconds of realization and lingering adrenaline, you quickly moved into each other with a yearning kiss that changed everything from that day forward.
Draco stood beside you while you sat on a bench outside the locker room, your head resting lazily on the side of his leg while his fingers carded soothingly through your hair. Marcus was pacing in front of you, using his broom as a walking and pointing stick whenever he wanted to add any calculated words to his very hostile pep-talks that left everyone feeling more irritated and stressed.
Today was the last game of the season and the most important, it was the game that ended the season with a shimmering Inter-House Quidditch Cup and it just so happened to be against Gryffindor, making the stakes much higher than they already were. The matches against Gryffindor were by far, the most dangerous as they weren't afraid to play roughly either if push came to shove. The determination to beat each other and to win was critical on both sides and the day always ended with some sort of injuries.
“I don’t care how dirty we have to play today,” Flint fumed to the team, “I don’t care how many fouls we get, as long as we win.”
“Relax, Flint,” you sighed deeply. “We have the best players on our team and we’ve been working our arses off all season, we’ll be fine.”
“Still, I want to see blood out there,” he muttered back, walking towards the entrance of the field as Madam Hooch started calling your team out to start.
You stood up with a huff, Draco frowning when he noticed how tense you looked when your eyes worriedly met his.
“All right, love?”
“I'm just nervous,” you shrug, “I don’t want to mess up.”
The silver-haired boy moved to stand in front of you, placing two strong hands on either side of your arms to stand you in place so that he would be the only thing your wandering eyes were able to focus on.
“You are the best Chaser that Slytherin has ever had, no, that Hogwarts has ever had and I know for a fact you’re going to do amazing out there,” he cups your face with care, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face as he spoke. “You’ve got this.”
He pressed an encouraging kiss onto your forehead and then your lips, smiling at you supportively before taking your hand and hurriedly walking the two of you out into the field where the match was about to start.
Almost the whole school had shown up in an overcrowded sea of red and gold for Gryffindor. There were red sparks and small fireworks of lions that were charmed to roar when the animal would open its mouth. On one end of the stands, however, was the entire student body of Slytherin that was throwing green and silver ribbons and sparklers from their wands, yelling loudly in support as if their life depended on it. Over the rails, they had thrown down a large poster of a snake that moved around sleekly over large green words that read, “SLYTHERIN FOR THE WIN.”
Rain was lightly drizzling from the grayed dense clouds above, a sharp chill in the air from an approaching winter that always seemed to give the worst weather during the last couple of games of the year. You didn’t mind it since the cold had always felt nice against your sweaty skin during the game and it served like a small revitalizing shock that gave you a surge of energy to push forward with. 
Madam Hooch quickly went over the rules, set free the bludgers, and the snitch, forced the two captains, Wood and Flint, to shake hands and by the time she had counted down from three to one - brooms were soared into the sky with such speed it looked like a tornado had formed as she threw the quaffle up into the air.
A roar of cheers erupted from beside you as you got ahold of the quaffle, dashing past your House while you headed straight towards the Gryffindor’s goal post and managed to make the first shot in within the first five minutes of the game putting you at 10-0. You spotted Draco flying around above, smiling down brightly at you with triumph that only fueled your confidence as you darted forward to catch the ball again. You were, just as Draco had said, the best Chaser on the team and in all of the school. You were fast, agile, and smart when it came down to it and you were the reason why your team had easily wracked up 40 points with thirty minutes down in the match. Marcus was always trailing behind you with focus, shoving anyone who tried to get to you or pulling them back by their robes that landed Slytherin a couple of fouls throughout. 
You didn’t like to play dirty, but when Katie Bell had rammed into your side either accidentally or on purpose, it knocked the quaffle out of your hands and into one of their other Chaser’s, Rowan Rees, a muscular and tall seventh-year boy that had made the team that same year. With Katie still closely trying to cut you off, you veered sharply into her with your shoulder before breaking away from her and heading towards your goal post where they were trying to shoot. 
“ILLEGAL PUSHING FROM Y/L/N, FOUL AGAINST SLYTHERIN!” 
You rolled your eyes at the announcer, completely ignoring the boo’s that had filled the air as you whizzed past the other houses even though it was you who got hit first. Just as Rees had raised his arm to score, you flew over him, swooping your arm underneath your broom until you felt the quaffle back in your palm and ripped it from his grasp. The match was becoming more intense by the second, Gryffindor was promptly catching up in points because of the penalties they were awarded from the illegal moves your team was making and it left you feeling more pressured that it was nearly a tie now, Flint reminded you of that every chance he zoomed past you.
Unbeknownst to you, Draco was watching you cautiously from across the field most of the game when he noticed how close everyone was trying to get to you. You didn’t see the way you were almost tugged back multiple times or were missed by inches when someone was about to push you. Or how the Beaters were deliberately directing the bludgers in your direction. You also didn’t see how irked you had made Rees with your constant scoring and with the sporadic few times you had cut him off or almost bumped into him - but your boyfriend did, and he was much more focused on your safety now than the Golden Snitch he or Potter hasn’t spotted yet. Instead of searching for it, he was purposefully maneuvering himself around in front of the other Chasers to throw them off their focal point towards you so that you would have a clearer path to fly through.
He watched as you pulled your broom upwards to try and twist away from the area but Rees had reached out and pulled at your ankle, sending you out of your seat as the quaffle fell while you tried to rebalance yourself. That was all the encouragement the blond needed when he hurtled down into the mess, kicking at the back of Rees’ broom and sending him quickly spinning on a dive before he could try and move any further. 
“FOUL AGAINST REES AND MALFOY FOR KICKING AND TUGGING!”
“MALFOY!” Flint roared as he flew past, “Potter’s spotted the snitch! This isn’t your place, get out of here, NOW!”
And when he looked up, sure enough, Harry was going around desperately with an arm outstretched towards the small glint of gold that was moving too fast. 
“Go, I’m fine!” You shouted out to him when you flew back up with the ball back in your arms.
It was like slow motion when he forced himself to leave your surroundings, everything around him was moving fast and intensely with everyone screaming wildly that he couldn’t think straight. In a daze, he haphazardly sped towards Harry but noticed the panicked look on the seeker’s face when he had lost sight of it again which directed his attention right back to you. You were right in front of the Gryffindor goal post, arm stretched over your head and releasing the quaffle with a harsh throw.
“Y/L/N MAKES THE GOAL, TEAMS ARE AT A TIE-”
It wasn’t until the very last minute that everyone, including you, had realized the flash of red that came hurtling into your side at full speed, Rees colliding so loudly with you that it echoed around the stadium in a powerful clang and crack.
Draco watched in horror as you were thrown off your broom, your now unconscious body falling like a rag doll with a speed that sent his stress levels into overdrive. He had never pushed down on his broom so fast, immediately abandoning his spot to bolt towards you even as Marcus was screaming at him to not go. 
A few feet above the ground and before you met it, he managed to loop his arm around your waist and heave you onto the front of his broom with a slight struggle as it was now raining hard and clouding his vision. He saw Madam Pomfrey and Mcgonagall rushing into the field, hands holding tightly onto their hats as they worriedly rushed towards the area where your broom had fallen and where Draco was hovering over with you. 
“TEAMS ARE TAKING A 10 MINUTE TIME OUT!”
Marcus had flown down towards him, face twisted in fury and annoyance as he approached. 
“Is there a reason you’re not being a seeker, today?” He spits, “because I’ve been seeing you do everything but your job.”
“My bloody girlfriend just got knocked out!” Draco seethed at him. “I’m not going back into the game, I’m going with her to the hospital wing.”
“Like hell you are,” Flint scowled, “if you leave, you'll forfeit us the game. If you stay and let Potter catch that Snitch so it’ll be over quicker, I will personally make sure that this is your last year on the team. You’re going to win this for us.”
“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall called up to him, waving her arms hastily. “She needs to go to the infirmary, immediately!”
The two Slytherins were staring each other down aggressively as Draco contemplated the threat he was just given. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to throw a hex at Flint and leave with you, but he just swallowed thickly and nodded at him before descending towards the ground and letting you off carefully into the hands of Madam Pomfrey. A surge of fear ran through his body when he finally saw you clearly; a harsh red mark was making its way up to your neck, the corner of your bottom lip had split and doubled in size, there was a small scratch on your cheekbone. It made him feel queasy, but he tore his eyes away from you and hopped back onto his broom while glaring angrily at Marcus and the distant group of huddled Gryffindor’s. 
He was blinded in rage when the match resumed and even more enraged when Flint had cheered loudly when the announcer granted Slytherin a penalty for the injury Rees gave you, allowing them basically to get a free score in against Gryffindor. Draco let his eyes wander around for the snitch for the first time that day and he could hear his heart thundering in his eardrums in distress as the rain continued to make his search worse. All he wanted was to get out of the game to check up on you, and then he'd come back to the stadium to throw his fists into Rees’ face with maybe a few hits in on Marcus.
Just as he was losing hope, he saw a flash of gold whiz past him with a loud buzzing that shocked him into alertness. He didn’t care that catching the snitch would win the game, or the cup, or give him all the glory, no - this was his ticket out. He dived towards it with his arm outstretched, hand thrashing around in the wind as he tried to eagerly catch it. In seconds, Harry was right beside him, bumping him with his shoulder to try and throw him off the path but Draco only pushed back harder. There was a flurry of shouting as everyone watched, the announcer was yelling into the mic about the seekers going head-to-head, bludgers were flying past him. 
It was pure chaos and urgency, Draco could feel the fluttering of its wings beneath his palm and when Harry pushed into him one more time, he felt the coldness of the Snitch get trapped into his enclosed hand, the vibration of its wings sending a current of relief up his arm that spread throughout his whole body as he soared up into the sky while brandishing it to the schools’ painfully watchful eyes.
“MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, WINNING SLYTHERIN THIS YEAR’S INTER-HOUSE QUIDDITCH CUP!”
Draco hurriedly made his way down to the field where the rest of his house was pooling into, celebrating proudly and calling out for him to praise, but when he landed on the ground and was met with half of the Gryffindor team including Rowan Rees - all his wrath came flooding back into him. 
Angelina, another Gryffindor Chaser, had nudged Rowan with her shoulder, pointing towards the Slytherin Prince that was stalking towards them.
“Malfoy,” Rees started bitterly, “sorry about the girlfriend, I was only trying to knock the quaffle out her hands.”
“After she had already thrown it?” He glowered, walking closer up to the boy that was beginning to straighten himself out and flex. “Looked a little personal seeing how she was dragging you through the dust the whole game.”
“Accidents happen, mate,” Rees shrugged, “it’s only quidditch, you won didn’t you? Maybe you should be thanking me for giving you that extra push to win the game.”
A clear line had been crossed and everyone who was listening knew it. But before Rowan could say anything to try and drag himself out of the hole he had just dug himself into, he was being tackled into the ground with Draco above him throwing punches wherever he could land them. There was loud hooting and laughing coming from the Slytherins that gathered around the fight, cheering loudly for their House superior.
Rees was thrashing around on the ground, trying frantically to throw off the extremely infuriated boy that was repeatedly pounding into his face with bloodied and bruised fists. Oliver Wood ran up to the sudden brawl, Fred and George following closely behind him as they all started trying to rip the fighting boy’s apart from each other. Oliver had gotten Draco off briefly, allowing Rees to try and get a hit in but it was dodged at the last second as the blond quickly leaped up to his feet. The fight immediately ended when a muddy shoe had collided with Rowan’s jaw and Draco stepped back satisfied with the damage he had done, roughly shrugging off the grip Oliver still had on his arm.
“It’s only quidditch, right?” He spat venomously from above the Gryffindor who was holding his now battered face in pain. “That’ll teach you from putting your hands on a woman too.”
“Mr. Malfoy!” Madam Hooch bellowed as she broke through the crowd in a frenzy. “50 points from Slytherin, go wait outside Professor Snape’s office for further punishment, go right now!”
Draco did go, and instantly, but he didn’t go down to the dungeons to hear about the lengthy detention that he knew he was going to get and the scolding for being reckless and stupid. His feet carried his sore body up the many stairs that led to the hospital wing, his pace picking up swiftly when he saw the large double doors of the infirmary ajar and he was able to hear a faint and familiar voice speaking indistinctly. 
He threw open the doors, walking straight in as if he owned the place and ignored Pomfrey’s requests for him to leave as he made a beeline towards your hunched figure that was facing away from him. 
“I need to see her,” he said to the nurse quickly when she stopped in front of him. “I’ll leave soon, please.”
At the sound of his voice, you hastily turned around in your spot to face him, a yelp escaping your lips for moving too quickly through your injuries. Pomfrey stepped out of the way with a sigh allowing Draco to jog over to you.
“I’m going to kill him,” he scowled when he reached you. You were wearing a sling, a deep purple and yellowed bruise quickly set itself over the side of your arm and the same cuts he saw from earlier were still scattered over your features. His fingers ghosted over your skin and he let out a deep shaky exhale of anxiousness before moving his thumb up to graze your cheek tenderly.
“What happened to you?” You asked quietly in shock when you noticed his mud-splattered clothes and tattered fists. 
“Long story,” he drawled. “Don’t worry about me, are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” you muttered with a slight shrug that made you whimper lightly. “Did we win?”
He nodded quietly, his eyes still scanning sadly over your face with a frown. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”
“Only if I can help,” you sniggered faintly, trying to make light of the situation and succeeding in doing so when you saw he had cracked a small smile. With his hand still on your cheek, he bent down to press a firm kiss on the top of your hair and then warmly on the side of your mouth that wasn’t bleeding.
“I’ll just let you finish him off then,” he mulled amusingly when he pulled away.
“Finish him off?”
The doors of the hospital wing were thrown open again, a sea of red flowing inside as they carried in a pummeled Rowan with a busted lip, bloodied nose, black eye, and deeply bruised jaw. You looked briskly between Rees and Draco, both of them staring daggers at each other and it rapidly clicked in your mind why your boyfriend had looked like he just walked through a battlefield in your absence.
“Oh.”
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charliehoennam · 4 years ago
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midnight lovers
A/N: anon requested: “Might seem like an odd request but can I request 35 and 39 with Reggie Kray?? And maybe like a married with kids kind of vibe but he still makes the reader feel like the sexiest woman he’s ever met?? Maybe a little smutty??? Thank you so much xx” (keep in mind UK English is not my native language. I tried to my best to come up with this little happy ending AU, hope you enjoy!)
Pairing: Reggie Kray x F!reader
Word count:1,704
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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Moments with Reggie have become even more rare now with your new-born daughter. 
The first few months were certainly the worst. You’d think with 5-year-old twin boys and a 2-year-old girl, you’d be used to the constant crying, diaper changes and feedings.
If your youngest daughter proved anything, it was that with more children comes more problems.
Reggie did his share. Bathing, cooking, playing, washing. He was keen on pitching in; he knew he’d have to when you both agreed to have children. At first, he was hesitant. His past seemed to be a constant reminder to him of the failure he’d been. It was a battle to avoid that; adapting to his new role as a father wasn’t an easy effort, especially with twins. But he’d made a promise to change, to be the person he should’ve been before.
Sharing the load of parenthood duties did take away from your alone time. It resulted in most nights spent with him in the home office – that he switched to in order to spend more time at home. By the time he’d head up to bed, you were already long gone in slumber and exhaustion from getting the kids into bed. The duvet pulled over your shoulders or sudden dip in the mattress would sometimes wake you enough to mumble out a good night to him. His reaction would’ve been different considering the confessions he’d made to you about his past marriage. At first, you did worry about history repeating. That worry faded gradually as time passed. It took a fair amount of patience, effort and communication – things we all know aren’t easy to put into practice – and there were still obstacles to overcome. Yet it would be a lie to say he hadn’t come a tremendously long way.
You can’t help but think about how different he was now. Granted he was never a saint and he never would be; his line of work would never allow him to and that much, you would have to endure. But once he was able to resuscitate the casino back to the livelihood it had always seen before, business was better which meant he could spend more time at home. More money did sometimes mean more problems; however, it did also mean paying others he trusted the most to take his place. Every now and then, he’d receive a ring to call him down to sort some issue – or somebody given the state of his knuckles - but it was a good compromise.
Tonight was one of those nights. You could hear the door creak open and the scuffling of his fine leather shoes that he was finally home and much earlier than usual. You glance back over your shoulder at him and flash him a pearly white smile.
“You’re home early tonight. Figured you’d be gone a bit longer.”
“Came to a successful negotiation quicker than I imagined. Thankfully too, I was hoping to catch you still awake.”
As you set another dish on the drying rack, you’re suddenly drowning in his scent as his arms wrap around your waist from behind, lightly squeezing your frame while his lips gently pepper kisses up and down the nape of your neck.
“Oh, that so? And may I ask why?”
You already know, it’s why you’re fumbling with the silverware as you rinse the soapsuds away and giggling like a little schoolgirl.
“Because I would like some alone time with my missus before one of the kids show up ‘round here” he chuckles against your ear.
“They’ve gone to bed. And don’t talk that way. They are our children, Reggie” you scoff with a playful tone. You know he means no harm.
“I know they are and I love them to death. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. But think about it. When was the last time we have time for a bit of hanky-panky?”
“I know it’s been a while, but in all honesty, it’s your own fault” you smirk, setting the last glasses on the rack before drying your hands off.
“How exactly is this my fault?” he grins amused at the thought of your answer.
“You can’t control yourself when we fuck.”
“I can too! I just…don’t. I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful already,” he smiles turning you by the waist to face him. “I know I get a little carried away, but can you really blame me? Especially when you make that face, begging me not to stop? Whispering me name over and over again? I just love hearing it, seeing those pretty lips quiver for me.”
His words and the low tone he intentionally uses melt you from within, like a small flame lit in a hallowed frame of wax. Drip by drip, you can feel yourself slicken as you press your thighs together.
“It’s still your fault you can’t control yourself.”
“Aw, don’t so modest, sweetie. You love it, don’t you? I know you do. Your legs clench on me like a fucking python.”
“They do not!” you laugh as hot blood flush your cheeks with nerves because you know damn well he’s not lying.
“Nearly snap me in half every time, not that I’m complaining! But I’d be thrilled to prove you wrong.”
“Of course you would be.”
“Can you blame me? I have the most beautiful wife in the world right in front of me. You got all I need. Wit, talent, charm, beauty. How could I not be attracted to you?”
Always so smooth. Your hands reach to lock behind his neck as you drape your arms around him.
“Even after 3 children? Looking the way I look now?”
“Especially now, love. You’ve changed, yeah. It’s expected when a woman has children. But you’ll always be my beautiful girl. I’ll always be grateful and admire you for bringing our children into the world.”
“You’re just saying that so we can fuck” you smirk calling him out.
“Well, I’m hoping we can, yeah. I won’t lie” he laughs blushing as he nods. “But I truly mean it, every single word regardless of the sex. I don’t know why you ever bothered to take a chance on me, but I’m very thankful you did. I never thought I could be this happy. Especially when I see you with our children. All the hard work you do… I notice every bit. I don’t say it as often as I should, but I appreciate you greatly.”
Just like that, your smirk widens into a grin that you cannot bear to resist even though you wish you could. Reggie is usually a closed book, but every so rarely, he’ll reveal a passage of a page that will have you pondering for days on end, smiling at the memory. You couldn’t resist him if you tried.
“You have 5 minutes.”
“You and I are going to need a lot more than 5 minutes, I’ll tell ya that much” he smirks, taking advantage of your vulnerability to nuzzle his nose into the hairs just at the top of your ear. A wandering hand slips down your lower back and his open palm grazes over the smooth curve of your bottom.
“Since when do you need more than that?” you tease him, biting your lower lip. He might pleasantly punish you for that remark, but the idea entices you.
“You’re on a roll today, love. Feeling quite cheeky, are we?” he chuckles, lightly squeezing the cheek of your bottom. “All pun intended.”
“Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?”
Despite years of marriage, butterflies still flap their wings in your tummy.
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna take good care of you, that’s what.” He declares proudly with a smack on your bum. “Leave this mess, let’s go make our own.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
And as promised, Reggie does exactly that.
With a hand on the headboard, your knuckles turn white as you grip the wood. Both standing on knees, praises pour from Reggie’s plush lips in breathy whispers that compliments the blissful thickness in the air. His hips rock smoothly against yours from behind while his strong firm arm locks your frame in place to allow his throbbing cock to slip in and halfway out. He knows your body better than you thought. You realize this when he begins running his fingers side to side over your sensitive nub and you can’t help but spread your legs and arch your back. He adores it; quickly hunches his broad shoulders over to nibble and suck on the delicate skin of your neck.
“You like that, love? Like it when I play with your pussy, yeah?”
“L-love it, Reg… Oh, god, don’t stop.”
“I got you, love. Make you cum on my cock. Such a beautiful fucking wife, I got. All to me fucking self.”
“I’m yours, Reggie. All fucking yours.”
“Fuck, you feel fucking good on me. So fucking beautiful, every fucking inch of ya.” He groans, playing with your breast gently. He hasn’t forgotten how sensitive they become when you’re breastfeeding. “Fucking lucky bastard, I am…”
“I-I’m getting close, Reg. Cum with me? Please?” you plead, reaching your free hand behind to pull his hip as if he could get any closer.
“Though you’d never asked” he chuckles.
His fingers and hips work the pace up gradually, unhinging you into a complete mess of whimpering moans and pants. He fills you so perfectly; the combination of his hands working your pussy and kneading your breast along with his swollen cock burying inside your cunt, the squelching of your wetness and the smacking of moist skin when his hips slap against your bottom. It’s the intimate paradise you both needed. The tension builds and builds and builds until you finally feel him coating you inside and it sets you off, clenching around his cock to milk him of every last drop.
He chuckles burying his face in the crook of your neck as his arms wrap around your waist. You instinctively reach back to stroke the back of his head with a glowing smile.
“See? This is why we end up with babies.”
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drspencerweed · 4 years ago
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Dreams Do Come True
Summary/Request: from anon: CONGRATS ON HITTING 500 ILYSM!!! random request,, having a wet dream about spencer while sharing a room on a case (i know, super original) and him getting all hot and bothered hearing you moan 🙈😁
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
W/C: 3484
Content: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, oral sex (both receiving), premature ejaculation, wet dream, sub!spencer
A/N: Hi! So this probably isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I started writing it and it kind of took on a mind of it’s own. I banged this out in two days, it practically wrote itself. I hope you enjoy! 
Masterlist
read on ao3
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Sharing a hotel room with her was normal. It was. Sure, they had never done it before, but that was just because Hotch had never randomly assigned the two of them before. So okay, it wasn’t normal by definition. But he wasn’t going to make it weird. Just because he had a small crush on her did not mean that he would let it be weird. They were colleagues, and they even spent time together outside of work too! She would come to his apartment to watch old movies, and he would go to hers so she could cook for him. So he knew he could spend time with her alone, that wasn’t the problem. 
It was the sleeping that was potentially the issue. 
His little crush had been invading his subconscious almost constantly nowadays, and he was known to talk in his sleep. He was so scared he would say something wrong in his sleep. If she overheard something like that, he knew their friendship would never recover. How can you act normal around someone who said your name in their sleep? 
He had been avoiding going to sleep before her, so he had taken Derek up on his offer for a drink in his room to talk about anything but the case they were working. 
“So when are you going to tell [Y/N] that you’re into her?” Derek asked out of nowhere. 
Spencer stuttered around the sip of his drink. “W-Who says I’m interested in her?” 
Derek just laughed and clapped Spencer on the shoulder. His cheeks were burning, a sure sign of his embarrassment at being called out. “Pretty boy, you give her heart eyes every time she walks in a room.” 
His blush deepened. “Even if I was interested, there’s a very low probability that she is also interested. So the answer to your question would be never, obviously.” Derek stopped his giggling and gave Spencer an incredulous look. 
“All that genius and you don’t see how she looks at you?” Derek asked. 
“How she looks at me?” 
“She looks at you like you hung the stars, man.” 
Spencer scoffed, brushing off the comment. “No she doesn’t.” 
Derek started laughing again, “Yes she does! Oh my god, the genius can’t read basic body language?” 
“Even if, occasionally, her body language reflected an attraction to me, it was probably because she was thinking of someone she actually was attracted to.  Statistically, most women find me awkward and-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, none of this negative self talk. You’re a catch!” 
Spencer just waved his hand at the comment, taking a long sip of his whiskey and coughing a bit as he swallowed. Derek eyed him curiously. 
“I’m telling you, you’re never gonna get anywhere if you never shoot your shot. The worst thing that could happen is she says no.” Derek advised. He shook his head and finished his drink . 
“The worst that could happen is she thinks I’m an absolute weirdo and never wants to talk to me again.” Spencer explained.
“That’s not going to happen.” Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head. 
“I can’t risk losing her.” He insisted. Derek sighed and accepted that he was a lost cause, leaning back in his seat and changing the subject. 
~~~~
Spencer made his way back to the room a few hours later, saying a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in that she was already asleep. The light was off, so he clicked on the bathroom light so he could see but hopefully not wake her. 
“[Y/N]?” He called quietly into the dark. All he got in response was a small whimper. He thanked his lucky stars and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 
Once he was all cleaned up and in a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt, he made his way to climb into bed. Just as he swung the sheets off, he heard a low moan from the bed next to him. It stopped him in his tracks. He turned towards her bed, looking at her face for any signs of distress. Nightmares could be debilitating; he knew from experience. But her face was peaceful, beautifully restful. He stopped again for a different reason, taking in the way her face looked as she slept. 
Then it scrunched up as she let out another moan. His eyebrows furrowed, wanting to wake her in case she was having a bad dream, but not wanting to disturb her. He swallowed thickly. 
Another moan. This one was followed quickly by a quick, “Spencer!” He reeled, unsure where his name had come up. Was she dreaming about him? Was she having a nightmare about him? Or was she calling out for his help?
She let a long, drawn out, “Oh,” and rolled from her side onto her back. He took a step forward, planning to shake her awake from what was clearly a nightmare at this point. But suddenly, “Go on, lick me.” 
Spencer stopped with his hands out above her shoulders, inches from waking her. Lick me? He mouthed to himself. What could she possibly be dreaming about? 
“Fuck, Spencer, I’m gonna cum!” She exclaimed, rolling back on her side. And-oh my gosh. Spencer took three quick steps back, realizing far too late exactly what was happening. He was entirely unsure how to react. [Y/N]? Having a sex dream about him? It was unbelievable. On his third step back, he ran right into his bed, and lost his balance. 
He fell to the floor with a crash. 
Her eyes blinked open, and he didn’t have any time to get up or move at all, so her eyes met his immediately upon waking. “Spencer? What happened?” Her voice was tired from sleep.
Spencer blinked, and immediately panicked. He was never good at lying under pressure. “I-uh. You were having a, uhm, dream. And I thought, thought it was a nightmare so-” As he spoke, [Y/N]’s face got redder and redder, and she sat up in bed and placed her face in her hands. 
“Oh no, you didn’t hear anything, did you?” She asked cautiously, barely chancing a glance up at him. He swallowed tightly and nodded. “Fuck me!” She said, throwing her head back on the pillow. Her voice sent something through him, and all he wanted was to say Okay and kiss her. But Spencer knew one didn’t control their own subconscious. Just because she had a dream about him didn’t means she actually wanted it to happen. He scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat. 
Before he could say something, anything really, she was sitting up again with a groan, rubbing her hand over her face. “Well I guess now you know about my stupid crush.” 
“Your crush?” He asked. She looked at him incredulously. 
“You heard me moan your name in my sleep. Yes, obviously, my crush. On you.” She explained matter of factly. He stuttered, trying to allow his brain to process the amount of information he had just been given. It didn’t make sense to him. [Y/N] was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, not to mention one of the most confident. She carried herself with such authority he never thought she’d look twice in his direction. Clearly, she’d want some confident alpha male who could match her energy, not his insecure nervous self. But here she was, telling him point blank that she had a crush on him. 
He didn’t know what to do. While he was standing there, stuttering, trying to gather his thoughts, [Y/N] made her way out of her bed to stand in front of him. She was only wearing a tank top and a pair of small shorts, and he could barely keep himself from staring at her body. “I had no idea.” He finally settled on saying, and she let out a loud laugh. 
“Really? Profiler extraordinaire? No idea? Why do you think I cooked for you so many times?” She smiled at him while she said it, like she couldn’t quite believe he didn’t see it. 
“I thought you just wanted to be friends!” He exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. She seemed to deflate at this, her face falling and wringing her hands together. 
“I did! I do! But I was always open to...more. I just wanted to spend time with you.” She explained, sitting back on the edge of her bed and staring down at her hands. “But you clearly have no interest in that-” 
“No! No.” He corrected quickly, and then realized with a sudden clarity that since her confession he’d done nothing to imply he felt the same. She stared up at him at his exclamation, unsure what he meant. 
“No?” 
“No, you’re wrong, I do have interest in that. In more.” He explained, sitting next to her. He awkwardly reached for her hand, which she offered with a small smile. Lacing their fingers together, he looked her in the eye with purpose. “I also have a crush on you. I stayed out of the room tonight because I was trying to avoid, uhm. What happened to you. I thought that might happen to me.” 
She stared at their entwined hands, and then looked back at him. “Really?” 
“Yes, really.” He smiled at her, and her face brightened immediately. She turned completely towards him and pulled him in by the neck, pressing their foreheads together. Spencer let their noses rub together, both of them still beaming. 
“I’m going to kiss you now.” She whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as she said it. Before he could even nod, her lips pressed to his. It was magic. Her lips were soft and urgent, catching his bottom lip between them. Her hands pulled him closer to her by the neck, and he let his hands find her waist, urging her closer. She climbed into his lap with his guidance, and he let his tongue slip into her mouth as she did it. Her hands roamed into his hair, pushing it off his head and carding her fingers through it, causing him to moan. She giggled into his mouth. 
“You like having your hair played with, baby?” She asked, pulling away to watch his reaction as she tugged on his roots. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he let his hands drop to her ass. He squeezed and pulled her down onto him, letting his lips find her neck. She let out a loud groan as he sucked a mark into her pulse point, but she pushed him away with both hands on his cheeks. 
“Not above the collar,” She reminded. He smirked at the idea of everyone on the team knowing what they were doing. At everyone on the team knowing that she wanted to do this with him. 
“But what if I want people to know you’re mine.” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to her lips as he said it. She smiled at him. 
“I think you’ve got this whole thing wrong then.” 
He furrowed his brow at her, unsure what he could have possibly misunderstood. 
“You, Dr. Reid, are mine.” She said, and then pushed him down onto the bed. He stared up at her perched on his lap, and let his hands roam her body. Now that he had free reign to touch, he never wanted to stop. She sighed and ran her hands down his chest, going to the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off of him. Her hands lit fires under his skin, as he gripped her by the hips and rolled his hardness into her. She chuckled at him. 
“Hard already, baby?” She teased. He moaned and threw his head back as she rotated her hips on him. “Use your words.” She ordered, gripping his face to make him look at her. 
“Yes, miss.” He answered on instinct. He immediately froze up, trying to take back the honorific when they had never discussed anything like that. It just slipped out, his little experience with being a submissive taking over because of [Y/N]’s naturally dominant role. But her eyes lit up, and she simply smirked at him. 
“Good boy.” She whispered, and pressed down hard with her hips. 
He came in his pants. 
With a loud groan and a thrust upward, he shot into his sweatpants. She chuckled as he shuddered through his orgasm, and leaned down to kiss him. As soon as he came down from the high, embarrassment overtook him. He had a chance with his dream girl, and he literally blew it not five minutes in. Because she called him a Good boy. He brought his hands up to cover his face, but she caught his wrists before he could reach. He closed his eyes and turned his face away, not ready for the ridicule that was sure to follow.
“Awh, did I make you cum?” She rolled her hips a few times, and he hissed at the oversensitivity.  “That’s so hot.” 
“W-What?” He asked, turning back towards her slowly. She was beaming at him. 
“You were so overwhelmed with me that you came so quick, what’s not hot about that?” She said, stroking his cheek. “The cutest boy, all worked up, just for me.” 
He blushed again, and swallowed as he smiled back at her. “But what about you?” 
“What about me?” She asked. His hands danced along her sides, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples through her shirt. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” He said while she gasped. 
“What’s stopping you?” She asked with a smirk. He surged upwards and began kissing her again, only stopping to finally rip her shirt off of her and get his hands on her bare breasts. Her hands found his hair again and tugged on the strands, causing their mouths to break apart as he panted. 
“Wanna taste you.” He requested. She moaned and pulled him into another kiss, guiding his hands to touch her under her shorts. His fingers trailed through her wetness, and she moaned against his lips. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, while her eyes watched through hooded lids. He moaned around his fingers, the taste of her so intoxicating he wanted more of it.  
“You’re so fucking hot. Such a good, good boy.” She whispered, stroking his hair. Then she crawled off his lap and laid out on the bed next to him. He turned to watch her as she shimmied off her shorts. Her eyes fell to where he was still sucking on his fingers. She gestured him over to her, and he quickly crawled between her legs. She nodded towards him. “Go on then, taste me.” 
He dove in tongue first, with broad licks up and down her pussy. Her hands immediately laced through his hair, pulling him closer to her. His tongue traced from her hole to her clit. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her in, letting his lips latch onto her clit and sucking. Flicking the tip of it with his tongue, she moaned and threw her head back on the pillows. 
“Oh!” She cried, and it sounded just like when she was having the dream earlier. Spencer had a quick thought about making her dreams come true,  but brushed it to the side as idealized thinking. Then she lifted his head off of her and looked straight into his eyes. “Go on, lick me.” 
Whether she remembered her dream or not, she was clearly living out her fantasy. He lolled his tongue out of his mouth and leisurely licked over her pussy, his tongue flat and wide. She canted her hips up towards him, and he let his tongue form rapid circles around her clit. Her moans fueled his motions, and he moved one of his hands down to pressed two fingers into her. 
She whined as he entered her, and let out a quick “Spencer!” He curled his fingers while sucking on her clit again, and her thighs began to clench around his head. He found the right spot inside her by listening to her moans, and then focused all his attention there while flicking his tongue against her clit. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” She cried, tugging on his hair. He kept doing everything exactly the same, pushing her over the edge with a loud shout. He kept up his ministrations until she pushed him off from the oversensitivity. She let out a loud sigh as he pulled off, and her hands went up to clutch at her own hair for a change. Staring up at the ceiling, she let a grin cross her face as a few aftershocks rolled through her. He admired her as she came down from her high, and then moved to the bathroom to wash his hands and get a rag to clean her up. 
When he came back he went to wipe her down, but she took the rag from him. “Sit. I get to take care of you, now.” She wiped herself down and then kneeled in front of him. She pulled down his sweatpants, which stuck a little to his cock which was hard again. Smirking up at him, she began wiping him down while he hissed, the gentle touches not enough for him. Suddenly her hot mouth wrapped around his head, and he groaned out. She made quick work of him, throwing her all into the blowjob from the start, taking him as deep as possible over and over. His hands clenched in the sheets as he came for a second time, this time down her throat. 
She swallowed as he watched in awe, and then wiped down his softening cock and stood up. Silently, she made her way to the bathroom and got rid of the dirty towel. 
When she came back Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He smiled up at her and reached out a hand, which she took gladly letting him pull her in for a hug, with her standing between his knees. 
“I really like you, you know.” He said, his chin resting between her breasts as he stared up at her. 
“I know. I really like you too.” 
“Would you like to get dinner with me, when the case is over?” 
“As long as we can keep doing what we just did before then, absolutely.” She said with raised eyebrows. He let out a laugh which made her smile, and he pressed a kiss to her chest. 
“Of course.” 
“You can make my other dreams come true.” She smirked. 
“I’d love to.” 
~~~~
When they walked into the precinct the next morning, [Y/N] was wearing a scarf, despite the hot Texas heat. She hadn’t quite caught Spencer in time, and he had in fact left a mark. Of course the whole team noticed.
“Oi, Pretty Boy, was [Y/N] in your room last night?” Derek asked at the coffee station. Luckily Spencer was facing away from him, so Derek didn’t see how his immediate reaction was to blanche at the memories from the night before. He gathered himself quickly.
“Yes, of course, why?” He asked as he turned around, stirring his coffee. Derek’s attention was on [Y/N], who was talking to an officer on the other side of the precinct.
“That scarf is only there to hide something, I think our lovely lady might’ve got some last night.” Derek said with a smirk. “Don’t let it break your heart, you still have a chance!” He turned to Spencer and clapped him on the shoulder, who was blushing intensely at the tease. [Y/N] had, in fact, ‘got some’, and he was the some she got with. Derek noticed he was off. 
“C’mon, I’m just teasing. She probably didn’t get a chance to-” While he was talking, Spencer caught [Y/N]’s eye from across the room. She smirked at him and waved, and he smiled and waved back. Derek cut himself off when he saw Spencer’s wave, turning to see just as [Y/N]’s face turned back to the officer she was talking to. “Oh my god. You crazy man, you actually did it!” Derek exclaimed, shaking Spencer. 
Spencer spluttered, shaking his head. “N-No, it’s not like that, I-” 
“I don’t need all the details, I just need to know it happened. Because it did happen, didn’t it?” He asked, trying to look Spencer in the eye, but the latter was aggressively avoiding eye contact. Spencer pursed his lips to try and contain his smile as he nodded. “My man!” Derek exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. 
Spencer caught [Y/N]’s eye again over Derek’s shoulder, and the smile she gave him made him smile right back. 
They had dreams to realize tonight.
Final A/N: thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! 
taglist: @rusticreid​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ 
send me a message or comment on this fic to be added to my taglist!
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pvrpleblccd · 4 years ago
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Promise.
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pairing : shuntaro chishiya x f reader
tw : angst, unresolved grief, death, mentions of death, blood, violence (beating up someone), chishiya being violent
a/n : this is my first post- cndovn- but i am currently having a massive crush on this man right here <3 ALSO CHISHIYA GIVES ME MASSIVE KENMA VIBES (im sorry for the typos, i wrote this at 4 am-)
-
There he was again, sitting at the edge of the rooftop of the Beach, hoods on and hands in his white Nike zip up sweater, well, it was given to him. He looked down to see all of the horny animals dancing and living their life as if it was their last day. Chishiya sighed, ‘Everyone looks like their all about to die, as always.’
It was a beautiful day in this cruel country. But it’s just like any other day, people will die tonight, either because their visa will expire or die during a game. Dying in a game, probably the worst death here. Chishiya sighed again and took a deep breath, trying to erase all negativity going through his head. Though, there’s one thing that he can’t get out of his head.
“Hey, Chishiya.”
Chihsiya whipped his head to where he heard the voice. He was about to call her name, but he only saw Kuina at the door of the rooftop entrance, looking at Chishiya with a confused look. ‘Ah... I’m still hearing her voice, I must be crazy.’
“An told me you guys had a meeting, I’m just here to rely the message to you.”
The blonde male nodded and stood up, making his way to where Kuina was. No words were exchanged between the both of them, though Kuina noticed the slight mood change the male had every now and then. There are times where he’s cocky, would always slide comment when he had the chance, had his guard up, and times where he just became more reserved than ever and was cold and gloomy.
Kuina noticed, but never dared prying on it, not wanting to get on the intelligent man bad side.
Chishiya on the other side, he zipped up the white hoodie he loved very much. He entered the meeting room and sat at his place, like always, though he kept a pokerface while hugging the hoodie he was wearing. He felt several pair of eyes on him, not on him, but the zip up he was wearing. No one dared to say anything, though Niragi wasn’t having it.
“Chishiya. Were you really obligated to wear that zip up when we’re in a meeting?!”
Niragi shouted from his place, gripping hard the rifle he had in his hand. No one budge or said anything, even Hatter looked at Chishiya, both with envy and anger in his eyes.
“It was given to me. Why whouldn’t I wear it? If you’re thinking that we should share it, you, out of everyone in this room, that I don’t share what I own. And plus, if we shared it, you’d only get blood on it and dirty it, y/n managed to keep it white and as clean as possible. I won’t let your stupidity ruin it.”
“You wouldn’t know what y/n would have wanted!” Niragi stood up and pointed his rifle at the blonde male.
“I knew y/n longer than you.”
“We were still close!”
“To someone like you? I don’t think so, you’re a complete psycho, Niragi.”
“Give it a break! We’re all mourning Chishiya, espicially An! So what the hell do you mean, y/n-”
“Y/n is dead.” Last Boss said while looking at the arguing males.
The room was even more quiet than it ever was, not only with the statement, but for the bald tattooed male to speak up and empathized the dead made them slightly uncomfortable. With no one saying a thing for a minute or two, Mira stood up and talked about the card they were able to collect and that they haven’t gotten news ones for a while. An talked about the medical supplies and that she was running out from it, Hatter asked Aguni and his Militants to accompany An for a short run to grab all supplies they can gather.
She was the first one to leave, the meeting room which was understandable. When no one said anything, Hatter talked about adding a new rule. Rule number three, death to traitors.
Soon after, the meeting was done.
The blonde male made his way to his room, opening the door he saw a familiar figure sitting on his bed, when he blinked the figure was gone. Chishiya closed his room door and laid on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He never felt so confused and empty in his entire life. He never wanted to deal with anyone’s emotions or feelings, let alone his. But upon on thinking and thinking, he came to a conclusion he now only realized.
How much he loved y/n.
“Damn it. This hurts... This sucks.”
Too tired and exhausted to think, Chishiya closed his eyes and embraced the darkness that surrounded him.
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“Chishiya?” A voice called out.
The blonde male turned his head, seeing a petite figure looking at him as if he was a ghost. He looked at her from head to toe and his eyes grew wide, he instantly got up and hugged the petite figure.
“Y/n?” He said in a weak voice.
The petite figure sighed in relief and hugged the male back, while letting out a small sob. They were currently in an abandonned mall, gathering food and necessities to get through the night. Y/n came back with a ton of canned food and water, while Chishiya came back with the others things they needed, such as flashlights and batteries and other things.
The both of them were catching up upon missed times and Chishiya kept eyeing on how she was dressed, grey sweatpants with a nike zip up and what looked like a swimsuit top, and the pink locker bracelet around y/n wrist. The numbers 009 was on the bracelet and the girl knew he was looking at it.
“What’s the most recent game you completed?” The petite girl asked.
“Six of diamonds, how about you?” Chishiya said, eating the canned peach. He didn’t noticed the slight spark in y/n’s eyes, but she smiled.
“Nine of hearts.” Y/n said and took a bite of her food.
A comfortable and peaceful silence was set between the two until the girl broke it.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
~
“Hatter, I want him to be part of the executives.”
Y/n said right after they all welcomed her back. All of them looked at her with confused and looked at Chishiya then back at y/n. The girl only smiled and put all of cards she collected on the table. Chishiya couldn’t believe the amount of cards she had in her possession, there was 14 cards in total.
“Chishiya cleared a diamonds game and is the lone survivor, I highly believe that his skills can be very useful to us. Also, I have known him before entering the Borderland. He is like a precious gem, full of hidden talents!”
She said while putting her hands in her grey sweatpants.
The blonde male was taken aback by the sudden praise, but dind’t show it. The others turned their attention to Chishiya, hearing the praise from y/n made them have a base opinion on Chishiya, he was smart and must not be harmed. Hatter started to explain the two rules to Chishiya and handed him a blue locker bracelet with the number 011 on it.
“Enjoy the Beach!”
~
After Chishiya settled in the Beach for a couple of weeks, he and y/n grew closer than they ever were before. The two of them became inseparable.
During one night, Chishiya and y/n were hanging out in the lobby, they were part of the first teams that finished early. Chishiya lost his other hoodie, blood was splattered on it, due to a player clung onto him begging him to help him and his collar went off.
In short words, he was currently shirtless. Y/n trying her best not to look, couldn’t help, but take a peek, thought the blonde male caught her.
“Like what you see?”
He said with a grin plastered on his face. Out of embarrassment, she took off her white Nike zip up and handed it to Chishiya, who watched her with an amused expression.
“H-here...! It’s yours now..!” She said and sprinted to elsewhere.
Chishiya sat there smiling at himself and decied to put the zip up on. He got up from his place and went off to find y/n. A part of him starting to worry, since it’s been an hour and he hasn’t found the petite girl yet. He passed the lobby at least three or four times, that’s when he started asking around.
With no one knowing where the girl was, he even asked Niragi, he too was worried so they both went on their sides to find her. Chishiya went outside and started to walk around the perimeter until he heard an oh so familiar voice coming form the sketchy alleyway.
“Were you hiding the cards from Hatter?”
“So what if I was?! I had to watch my friends die in front of me to be able to get this card! I’m not giving it to some cult leader or whatever he is!”
Chishiya rushed to the voices and saw one of the new militants holding three cards in his left hands and a gun in this right. Y/n tried to reason with the boy, but it only seemed to boil his blood even more, to the point he raised his gun. Chishiya ran to y/n side and hid her behind him, y/n on the other side was surprised.
“Put the gun down... You’re pointing it at the most important person apart from Hatter.” Chishiya tried calm the boy down, but didn’t work.
“Y/n... You remember Kirika? She was close to you right? Did you know that she gave her life up so that I can survive the game? Her last words were, ‘Tell y/n, thank you... I love you Aki-kun.’ She gave her life for me because she loved me!”
Aki broke down crying, falling on his knees and letting out pained screams. Y/n came forward tears falling down her cheek and approached Aki and gave him a hug. She careful put the gun down and caressed the top of Aki’s head.
“Kirika was a wonderful person, Aki, she was-“
Y/n sentence was cut abruptly and Chishiya took a step wondering why y/n suddenly stopped talking, he took another stop forward, his eyes widening seeing Aki’s hands was covered in blood and held a knife. He dropped the knife and moved his hand to grab the gun next to him.
“You’re all Hatter’s soldier. We have to end this, I have to end it.”
Aki grabbed the gun and slowly got up, hair covering his eyes. While Chishiya looked at how y/n’s body fell to the side and seeing a dark substance staining her grey sweatpants. A small pool of her own blood was starting to form underneath her.
Chishiya looked at Aki who was still mumbling things, but he saw red. The blonde grabbed the closest thing to him, which was a metal pipe, and ran towards Aki, hitting him with it, unable to stop himself.
Chishiya’s blood was boiling, he never felt so angered in his entire life. He kept on swining the pipe, hitting a part of Aki’s body every time. His vision was red, he couldn’t even hear the screams of his victim. What brought him back was Aguni taking off the metal pipe off of his hands. Chishiya’s face was unrecognizable, it was full of hatred, sadness, anger and disgust. Aguni never saw such expression on the male’s face before, he always looked so calm and preserved.
Something caught Chishiya off guard when he looked at Aguni. His eyes were red, as if he was holding himself back not to cry, that’s when he remembered y/n. He turned around to see An trying to stop the bleeding from y/n’s wound, but the blood was coming out and went through all of the amount of cloth that was put on it.
The blonde male rushed towards y/n’s side caressed her face while shaking his head. Tears fell on the girl’s cheek while Chishiya was telling y/n to stay with him. He soon looked at An and she was trying everything she could, all of the sudden, a small and tired voice caught his attention.
“S...shuntaro...? Ri-chan..?”
The blonde male whipped his head to look at y/n. She was smiling. Why was she smiling? She was dying, but she was still smiling. Chishiya tried to understand her, but couldn’t.
“S-spending my... last moments.. with the ones I love.. Shun... taro... I’m sorry... but pro..mise me... you’ll live, okay?”
“W..why are you saying sorry.. No. We both survive okay? Look... An... An will take care of you okay?”
Y/n turned weakly looked over the forsenic, who was doing her best to keep the petite girl alive. They made an eye contact, y/n let out a pained sigh while An shook her head. Y/n was trying to stay strong until the very end.
“Ri..chan... Thank you for everything... Take care... Big sis...”
At this point, An was crying too and shouted for other people to come help them. Y/n placed her bloodied hand on Chishiya’s cheek, wiping his tears away, he held her hand as she caressed him. She was so warm, he never knew she was this warm before. He didn’t wanted her to leave.
Just not yet.
“No.. No, you can’t leave.. Hang on okay y/n..? Help is... help is on the way.”
Y/n shook her head and let all of her tears fall, managing to give Chishiya one final smile.
“Shuntaro... I love you.”
At her words, y/n’s eyes closed and her hand went limp, landing on her body. When the other arrived, all of the executives looked at the scene before them. They were too late. An was crying, still holding on her little sister dead body, telling her to wake up and not to leave her. Chishiya sat there unable to move or say anything.
A pang of guilt hit two executives in particular and they slightly looked at each other and sighed, tears slowly coming in their vision. Aguni was behind them and his fist turned white, knowing y/n was the most important person in the Beach. She was the only one who kept Hatter in the sane side.
Niragi pushed the people aside and dropped his rifle, analyzing the dead girl’s feature. Y/n died with a smile on her face.
“She looks so peaceful.”
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Chishiya woke up at the sound of the bell, indicating to gather in the lobby and group up, since the games were about to start. He felt something wet on his side and he looked at his pillow, it was wet. He touched his face and he shook his head, laying on his bed once again.
He cried. He was crying.
He looked at the ceiling and smiled sadly, clutching on his chest at the amount of pain he felt. The memory of her smiling to him was engraved in his mind and he wasn’t going to let it go.
“I never had the chance to tell you that I loved you too... I’m sorry.. I only now realized it..”
He stood up, wiping the tears off of his face, putting his shoes on and went to the lobby. He put his hood on and tucked his hands in the pockets, he analyzed everyone and he nodded to himself.
‘I will keep my promise.’
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hopinglimelight · 3 years ago
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Colors (C.B) - Four
A/N: Hello!! I don’t know if this is an official end to my break writing, but I got a sudden burst of creativity and got this written for everyone! Thank you all for all of the love and support I've been given so far on not only this book, but everything too. I love you! Now for the picture of the chapter-
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I hate making mistakes. In my opinion, they are the worst thing that can happen to me. There is nothing worse than realizing an error you’ve made after it’s way past when you can change it and correct yourself.
My mistake was not hooking up with Corbyn, but rather thinking I could easily avoid it. Standing in the mirror, I saw the purple mark on the underside of my collar bone and one placed almost too perfectly on my stomach.
“Bella, you good in there?”
“Yeah,” My voice cracked a little, and I cleared my throat. “Be out in a second!”
“Thank god!” I heard him yell, and I shook my head at him.
I let my shirt fall back down to where it was supposed to be and adjusted the collar of my shirt on my neck. I walked out of the bathroom and passed my brother. When I heard the bathroom door click shut, I sighed in relief and went to my room.
“See you at 3?” Daniel asked, leaning over to kiss my forehead.
“Yessir.” I nodded, then got out of the car.
Today was my first day of college, a small local college but still college nonetheless. I was nervous. I haven’t really gone anywhere since that night of the party, since I ordered my books online. I made my way into the building and headed straight for the library. My first class didn't start for 30 minutes, but Daniel was my only ride so I had to go when he did. I picked a table in the back so I wouldn’t be the center of attention. I grabbed a book out of my bag and started reading.
“Well look who we have here.” I heard the familiar voice 10 minutes later, and it made me look up from my book. “Hey there, Bella.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I looked up at him, angrily moving my hair from my eyes.
“Sorry sweetheart, it’s me. Live and in the flesh.”
“I know why you’re talking to me right now, Corbyn. Quite frankly, I don’t want to talk right now, nor do I have the time. My class starts in,” I glanced down at my watch. “6 minutes.”
“I don’t know why you’re being so grouchy right now.” I ignored him and put my book in my bag instead. He reached over and grabbed my arm lightly. “We are gonna have to talk about it at some point.”
“We’ll talk about it when we talk about it.” I scoffed and wiggled out of his grip, keeping my head held high as I stalked out of the library.
“Hey, Bella. What’s got you in a bad mood?”
I slid into the booth across from her. “You’ll never believe who I ran into today.”
Emily looked up from her milkshake. “Who?”
“The one and only Corbyn Besson!” I shook my head. “He demanded that we speak later. How weird is that?”
“Honestly, not that weird. A lot of people want to talk to you. Not like you’re trying to avoid him or something.” I looked down at the milkshake that she had ordered for me.
She gasped. “You are trying to avoid him. Why?” I gave her a half-hearted shrug. “You slept with him?”
My cheeks burned a rosy red as I glanced out of the window.
“Oh. My. GOSH!! You did the dirty with Corbyn?”
“Shh! Be quiet. I don’t think everyone in this place needs to hear about my sex life”
“But what about Jonah?”
“We, uh, broke up.”
“But you guys were perfect together. I wonder what went wrong…” She trailed off when she saw my face. “He’s not your soulmate, is he?” I shook my head, her eyes softening. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I sighed. “Wel, no it’s not fine. Worse things could have happened, you know? Besides, no telling Daniel. That’s the last problem I need to have.”
She hummed and I took a sip of my milkshake.
“So, was he good?” She asked nonchalantly. I choked. She winced. “Sorry.”
Within the next week, Daniel told me he wanted to catch up with me on my life. Ever since I started college, we haven't spent the amount of time with each other that we normally do. I decided it was best to tell Daniel what had happened. With Jonah, not Corbyn.
“Hey, Daniel” I walked into his room with a smile.
He didn’t look up from his computer. “One second, almost done.”
I stood awkwardly in the doorway, pretending to look down at my watch every few minutes. Eventually, he looked up and I could see the gaming screen behind him. I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, my lovely twin.”
“Oh, it’s nothing important. I got a 100 on my first important paper, your girlfriend and I had milkshakes the other day, and can we get a dog?”
“That’s wonderful, good job. Wait, are mom and dad okay with a dog?” I nodded. “Can you get Jonah to drive you?”
“No, we broke up.”
“What? What did he do?”
“It was a mutual decision,” I said with a scowl, leaving the doorway and returning to my bedroom. Gosh, why do people always assume someone did something.
“Corbyn, please,” She begged.
He looked down at her, a confident, cocky smirk smeared onto his face.
“You’re so pretty when you beg, you know that? Do you know how long I wanted this? I couldn’t have you when you were Jonah’s, but now that you broke up you could be mine.”
She answered with a soft whine of pleasure, Corbyn throwing his head back, hands roaming her body.
“So beautiful.”
I woke up from my nap with a start. No matter how hard I’m trying to forget, the events of that night slowly keep coming back to me. Why now though? Why couldn't it have been the morning after, or the night off?
Why did this moment, out of all my life that I have lived, keep fighting its way back to the surface of my brain. Maybe forgetting and moving on would be a mistake. I turned over onto my side with a huff.
I hate making mistakes.
My rainbows: @chilling-seavey @hiya-its-amber @theduckgoesquack @randomlimelightxxx @hopelesslylivv @the-girl-who-cried-wolf
(if i missed anyone or you want to be added or removed from the taglist, please tell me!!)
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bestialchorus · 4 years ago
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“The Invisible String” (Falling for Donna Beneviento)- Chapter 1
Donna quietly gasps as your fingers lightly brush against each other. The head of the house immediately jerks her hand away in response, acting as if the minimal contact had burned her flesh. Despite her reaction, she doesn’t completely pull away, instead her hand freezes in midair as she mentally processes what to do next, her fingers ever so slightly shaking. You watch the scene from the corner of your eye, feigning ignorance as you pick up the brush you were originally reaching for. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass her by drawing attention to her sudden jitteriness. You take no offence as you’re well aware of how her anxiety can manifest in different ways. You instead begin painting the face of one of Donna’s latest creations, giving it your own touch of life, avoiding her gaze.
To call the air between you both as heavy would be an understatement. For Donna was quieter than usual, if that’s even possible, while thoughts plague your mind. Thoughts filled with unspoken words that prick at your tongue, wishing to be set free. You sit in silence as all
that can be heard throughout the Beneviento home is an old grandfather clock ticking away down the hall. You couldn’t help but be grateful for the ancient clock as its presence always helped anchor you to reality, an issue that proved to be difficult whenever you were near the shrouded woman.
The tension you currently feel is nothing new.  For months it’s been bubbling beneath the surface, quietly peeking through now and again. You always felt it in the woman’s presence but chose to never vocalize it, naively hoping it would go away….but it never did.
For months you desperately tried to repress how the puppeteer made you feel, only to fail miserably. Every moment with Donna threatened to take your breath away, from the passing glances, accidental touches, and restless dreams you had no control over…but how you craved them. The longer you spent within the Beneviento home, the more you tried to sever any hope of the woman returning your affections. For to hope was to dream and dreams didn’t last long within reality’s grasp, not when you were a common painter and she, a woman with status and power.
For some reason, the tension in the air feels stronger than usual or perhaps it was simply all in your head. Perhaps you’re finally being punished for your naivete as your affections now threaten to flood your system. Your heart begins to pump faster as you imagine finally confessing to the woman in black. To think, a brush of fingers would be the final straw.
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This all-started months ago when a shadowy member of house Beneviento had informed you had been summoned. You couldn’t help but feel anxiety bubble in the pit of your stomach as you automatically assumed the worst. All you knew about Mistress Beneviento were the rampant rumours that swirled around why she chose to conceal her identity at all costs; some say she was born with a monstrous appearance, others believe the flesh off her face had completely melted off in a horrific accident, while someone else had personally told you she was probably a cursed body with no head at all. You had never been one for rumours, but you felt nervous all the same, what could the head of a house want with a simple artist like yourself? Surely, she could afford a painter of well-known status if she wanted a portrait done.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The pathway towards House Beneviento would only fuel the stories of horror and enigma attached to the mysterious family. Isolated on a wintery cliff, overlooking a grand waterfall, you feel every inch of your being telling you to go back the closer you get to the eerie house. Despite the status of the Beneviento name, you see no sign of life surrounding it; no groundskeepers or servants to be spoken of.
The heavy wooden door closes behind you with a loud creak. Your confusion only grows as no help comes to announce your arrival, the space is seemingly empty. Despite the home’s quiet nature, you can’t help but find it surprisingly “cozy” as deep rich wood surrounds you. Lights create a warm glow throughout the space, contrasting with the harsh winter winds you hear rattle against the windows.  
A voice suddenly speaks from the top of the stairs, making you jump back. You jerk your head towards the sound as your gaze falls on none other than the mistress of the house, Donna Beneviento. Off first glance, she is as mysterious as all the rumours suggested, covered from head to toe in a long dark dress and veil, showing no skin except for her hands. Despite the image, you don’t find her as unnerving as you originally thought you would. Sure, there was definitely something about her that was almost otherworldly but so far, not in a threatening way.
“Welcome to my home, Lady Y/N.” She greets in a low and soft voice.
You hold a hand over your heart as you wait for it to relax, she’s truly given you a fright but you’re more concerned of how she was able to appear without making her presence known. Surely you would have heard her steps against the wood, right? You shake your head of the thought as you try answer as politely as you can, having no experience interacting with anyone from the four families.
“Of course, Mistress Beneviento. It’s no trouble at all, how ah…can I be of assistance?”
The woman takes a pause before answering, almost frozen in place. You feel a bit awkward under her “gaze”, wondering if she’s silently judging you from under her veil. Finally, she extends a hand towards the hallway to her right, no rush in her movement as she answers.
“Perhaps it is better if I showed you.”
You follow her upstairs, and she leads you to a room filled with porcelain dolls, each dressed to reflect a unique personality. Upon closer inspection, you take in how much love was put into them; from ornate detailing to masterful craftmanship. Out of every scenario you could have imagined you’d find within House Beneviento, this could never have been one of them.
Donna’s voice comes out almost in a whisper.
“I could use your help bringing more to life…I’m aware of the skill you possess.”
Most would find her phrasing a bit bizarre, but you picked up on the vulnerability in her voice, highlighting just how much these dolls clearly meant to her. You turn towards her and notice how she softly runs a thumb over her other hand, you assume it to be a self-soothing technique. The gesture makes you notice how nice her hands are in shape, delicate yet slender and her nails perfectly painted.
From that day on you became Donna Beneviento’s artistic assistant, helping her paint, build and touch-up her “children”.  Days turned into weeks and weeks into months as you worked side by side in her large workshop. You honestly enjoyed the work but quickly found yourself enjoying her presence even more.
The image of the eerie woman quickly sheds away the more you get to know her. Ultimately what lies under the veil is a timid woman who preferred not to draw attention to herself. From what you can pick up, it seems all Donna wants is to live comfortably in her home while pursuing her passions. She enjoys needlework and keeping countless journals. She has little issue working well within the night whenever she started a new project of any kind. She is a far cry from the stereotypes attached to her status and rumoured state. The head of House Beneviento was instead an artistic soul who was gentle in mannerisms as she was with you.
Donna would openly concern herself with your health, showing worry whenever you got little sleep, little did she know she was often the reason for it. Her gentle voice and stunning hands would plague your mind deep within the night, refusing to let you rest. You quickly changed the subject whenever she brought up the dark circles under your eyes, embarrassed they’re from imaging how her touch would feel against your skin.
The head of the house was also unsurprisingly a great listener. You first take notice of this once your favourite tea appears one day in her kitchen, remembering you had told her about it a few weeks ago. Soon after, desserts begin to appear in her fridge once she found out you had a sweet tooth. Eventually the woman would presence you with high quality brushes you always wished you could try out. Going forward you always tried to be mindful of discussing anything she could end up buying you, not wanting to take advantage of her generosity.
You remember the day you worked in silence as you processed the woman’s “gifts” as she never directly gave them to you but simply waited for you to notice their presence. Deep down you always wished they meant something more, but you quickly shook the thought away. You instead decided it must be because you’re working on her dolls. You’re just a worker to her and nothing more.
“Y/N, is everything okay?” She asks, breaking you from your thoughts.
“Hmm? Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask, Mistress? Are my strokes off?” You eye the small doll in your hand.
She lightly shakes her head, “no, your work is impeccable as always. It’s just..you’re normally more talkative.”
She almost sounds embarrassed when she answers, as if it was silly to point out the observation in the first place.
“Oh, right. I just thought I’d give you a break from my usual ramblings.”
You answer lightly while flashing her a smile, trying to hide the reason for your silence. A pregnant pause follows, and you wonder if you answered too casually, you quickly try to rectify your mistake by apologizing but her voice interrupts you.
“…..I like your voice.” She says quiet enough to be a whisper.
Your heart skips a beat at the confession and at first you feel you MUST have misheard her, that is until you notice her doing her usual self-soothing technique.
Your curiosity for what laid under Donna Beneviento’s veil would quickly disappear as you found yourself slowly falling for the soul of the woman beneath it all.
Months after that interaction, you find that very same woman slowly moving her shaky hand back to yours, gently covering it, making your heart stop.
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ncitygirls · 4 years ago
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pink - mark x gn reader
fluff, smut, cw: submissive!mark, 2k
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The concept of colour is an intriguing one. Much like seeing, seeing itself is intriguing. Intriguing as well is the notion that seeing is believing when the blind trust so fiercely. They must trust the yellow of the sun resembles the middle of daisies, and runny yolk. They must trust the red of a ruby resembles that of flowing blood. They must trust that at any given time, the blue painting the skies can resemble that of bluebells, blueberries, and all blue things.
The concept of colour is not an admissible one. It is convoluted and complex. The pink of a rose, of a poked eye, of a healing wound, of a stained linen. They all contain a bounty of hues; some dimmer, paler, or truer than others. They all carry their own meaning, things we assign and ascribe to an item; be it clothing, furniture, text. The point to all this is, you do not think you will ever be able to truly explain how perfect the pink that colours Mark’s lips is. You try every morning you are fortunate to wake beside him - when you are first to wake that is. You peel open your eyes one by one, blinking away sleep and tears from the strobes scorching your corneas, falling victim to the allure of sunlight that lures you from your dreams, only to wake to another.
Pink. It is too simple a word to describe the creases in his lips that sit a couple shades darker, not enough to call magenta nor red. Every morning, you ache to run your fingers along the ridges, to rouse him from sleep, punish him like the rising sun did you. You never do. You lay there, watching as silent breaths cause the rise and fall of your lover’s chest, perturbed by the riddle that curses you every other morning.
How does one describe the indescribable?
It is your job no? To spread word of such wonder. A man who proves the existence of a higher power. A man whose face cannot be a product of the algorithms of colliding comets, nor of destiny. Hands of an omniscient being carved this face, moulded him into the wonder that you wake to every morning. That pink is not just pink. It is a perfect combination of the richest red and a waxen white. God needn’t have spent long, given his almightiness, but he did spend more time than on others. For that reason you think it selfish to waste this time, to roll out of bed and busy yourself with the trivial, menial tasks of readying for work. No, you must solve this riddle. You must find a way to proclaim what you have thought since the very first moment you laid eyes on Mark Lee.
“How are you real?”
One glance and he knew you hadn’t meant to ask it aloud. It is a regular action you do in regards to him; thanking God for the blessing that was Mark Lee’s creation. It occurs at all hours of the day, both verbal and non verbal, physical and non-physical alike. Whether it be the sudden airiness in your laughter, or twirling strands of his hair betwixt your fingers. Every time your eyes settle on his face, your senses heighten while your sense diminishes.
“Morning, angel,” he mumbles, tugging you from your angelic pose on his chest and pulling your lips to his. He offers you just a press, but should it be your last, it would still be enough. Mornings spent in his company always make for an easier start, one full of wistful goodbyes but wishful hellos. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” your lips fall to his toned pec, offering scattered pecks. “Did you?”
Mark hums groggily, head falling to his pillow, failing to follow your sudden flurry of kisses. He finds the energy to speak just as your lips closed around his hardened nipple, as you begin to suck ever so slightly. His hands find your hips, clinging onto your frame as you kiss a path down his chest, marking his skin on your descent. “It’s almost eight,” he regrets to inform you, wishing nothing more than to enjoy this extended dream. “Won’t you be late?”
You show no signs of stopping, journeying south at a most leisurely speed. He relinquishes his hold on you, instead finding purchase in the bed linens, his fingers clasping around the duck down feathers. When your lips suddenly leave him, Mark fears the worst, that his reminder had a delayed effect. That is reluctant warning, seemingly good deed is now working against him. He soon finds his concerns were in vain as your lips close around the clothed head of his cock, sucking long and hard on the darkened material. His hips rise toward your mouth, chasing the stimulation you offer up to the deity beneath you, the one you call Mark. The one you call yours.
Your fingers grip his waistband, slowly lowering the material to the tops of his calves. His hot length meets the cool air with a hiss, his jaw tightening as you offer a languid tug from his base to his tip. A strangled moan fills the air, coating either end of your name. As you slowly pump him within your closed fist, you admire how the morning light always caught the beautiful tone of his arms, the shadows casting over his chest. He is more firm beneath your palm, more concrete, more real. When he casts his gaze toward you finally, finding some room for restraint within your steady pace, he allows himself to admire the gentle knit of your brows, the smirk upturning your lips as his breathing changes when you tighten your fist. He gasps when your eyes fly back up to his, your fist stilled at the base of his abdomen, a silent question in your eyes, a small lick at your lips.
He nods, watching you lower your weight, resting on his tensed thighs. He is breathless, eyes stuck on the plumpness of your lips, your pink tongue sweeping over your bottom one, teeth catching the skin as you run your closed fist over his cock once more, gripping tighter as he mewls.
Words escape him as he offers up devout concentration to his breathing, praying he does not crumble under the warmth of your touch and sweetness in your eyes. His eyes squeeze shut when you thumb his slit, a hard shudder passing through his bones, his hips bucking in time with your closed fist. Mark whines beneath you, the patience he forces is admirable, his whitened knuckles gleam as they blend in with the cloud of sheets. And still you wait, feeling his skin burn as his precum gathers in your palm, squelching in the air.
“Minhyung,” you breathe suddenly, fearful you might shatter the moment. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,’ he chokes out in response. ‘I want you, please.’
You chortle at his sweet plea, capturing the skin of his thigh in a slow kiss as you pump him harder, puckering your lips along the skin at his base as his thrusts start to increase. “Slow down for me,” you whisper. Mark loves what you are doing, reducing him to the shell of himself as you lure his first orgasm of the day from him. He grips your hand then, ready to chase a release he knows you will not give him.
“Please,” he begs softly, skin a flaming pink, lined by the morning light and in a light dew.
Pressing a final, fleeting kiss to his tip he wishes to chase, you release him, drawing his brows together as you slow down before climbing off of his lap. He frowns as you kneel beside the bed before patting his shin, “come ‘ere.”
He bites his tongue, stuffing it in his cheek, “I know you’re teasing me.”
“No,” you laugh, “you’re just impatient,” you coo, watching as he follows your instruction anyway, shuffling to the edge of the bed. You tug his pants down to his ankles before you are hovering over his cock, admiring the gleam as the light reflects off his slick head. He sighs as you do, your breath cooling his angry tip, a twitch running through his cock as you just hover. He almost whines again when you pucker around his slit, the tip of your tongue passing over it ever so slightly.
His sweet moans fill the air, his breaths laboured as you tease him, lapping at his shaft as he toys with your hair, moving it aside so he can see you. He watches you take him, burying his lithe cock between the hot confines of your mouth before sucking around him, humming as he mewls beneath you. He assigns no time to keeping himself together, instead admiring how quickly you render him powerless. How you swirl your tongue around him, pump him as you suckle on his head, swallowing around him. He is completely at your mercy, his cum threatening to pour down your throat as you push on his abdomen, sending his back into the mattress. He huffs as he falls, sighing as his stolen release is remedied by your cool, slick coated finger prodding at his puckered hole.
His moans are unintelligible, garbled mumbles filling the air as you glide your finger into his ass, curling ever so slightly as you pump the digit. “I think I-,” he starts, unsure how, or just unable to finish.
“It’s okay, Mark,” you breathe on his cock, curling your finger harder with every suck you offer his leaking tip. “It’s okay, you can come.”
“Fuck- I’m-” his voice escapes him before he can help it, the mere thought of it forcing you to suck harder. His release tears through him like molten iron, encrusting his every nerve, setting him alight. His cum coats your throat as he bucks into your mouth, your name barely comprehensible as it pours from his lips. It is pleading, prayer like, something you repel. It was Mark who was God like. Mark who was heavenly.
He humps up into your mouth while grinding down on your finger, milking himself, using you, silently forbidding himself to succumb to the oversensitivity of his orgasm. He clings onto the nape of your neck, lodging his tip in the back of your throat while chasing the finger pressed beautifully to his prostate as his mind and body struggle to process the endless limits of his pleasure, though the two can agree it rests in your hands.
When he is somewhat present, Mark quickly recognises your figure lying by his side, your unsoiled hand massaging the expanse of his chest. He gazes up at you with fatigue in his eyes, and a sickly adoration. And something else he thinks he is ready to name.
“Y/N?” Mark calls, still a little breathless, failing to notice the way your eyes catch the time. “I think I-”
“Shit, it’s past nine! Mark, I have to go.”
You disappear down the hall, your presence made known only by a flurry of rushed sounds before you return in the peachy pink shirt you left behind last time. He can’t figure out how it looks better on you every time he sees it. Much like the pink of your lips when circling his cock or the more innocent pink lining your tired eyes. Even the pink hearts that fly around your head as he watches you rush around the room, glancing at him every so often, laughing to find him still watching you. Each time you do, he sees that nothing beats the colour of the red raw love he feels for you. Mark hopes to tell you this some other beautiful morning. For now, he smiles against your lips as you bids him farewell before letting him return to his slumber.
He dreams only of you.
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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago
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Guarding Your Heart (Helmut Zemo x Reader)
Request: THE ENDING WAS PURRRRRFECT i'm gonna miss tfatws sm. I don't know if on the raft they allow inmates to be visited but let's imagine it: you visiting zemo for the first time since he was sent there, a little angst cuz you can't have skin-to-skin contact anymore but you two talk about some things and how life is going, if everything is okay 🥺🥺🥺 (by anonymous), [Marvel-Masterlist]
Summary: Inmate: Helmut Zemo. Accommodation: The Raft. Visitors: Generally prohibited. Exceptions: Maintaining a friendly relationship with an Avenger.
Words: 3,547
Warnings: angst, jail (is that a warning?), fluff, feels, my emotions, I didn’t use any pronouns!, TFATWS spoilers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
Countless attempts from your side had been ignored. You were an average citizen. No superpower, no higher-up. Ordinary. It appeared that the Raft did not think highly of such people. Not when they proposed to visit an inmate. And definitely not when said inmate was the same Baron who broke out of a high security jail in Germany. But he was yours. His imprisonment in Europe had not been as restricted. For his sake, you had moved to the other end of the world. Simply so you could spend a bit of time together every day. Your old life had been completely abandoned. And for almost ten years, Germany had been your home. Until Sam & Bucky entered your lives once again. Though you started off on the wrong foot, this time around, you were more than grateful for their presence. Without them, especially without the former Winter Soldier, Helmut would still rot away in that tiny prison cell. Your time together had been adventurous. Often hazardous. Life threatening. In the end, you made it out alive. Coming back stronger than ever before.
It could have been a fairy tale. A long awaited fulfillment of a seemingly impossible dream. Were it not for the Wakandans crushing your reverie at the worst place imaginable. The Sokovian memorial. Where you held one of his clothed hands in both of yours. Shedding tears, remembering his old life. His wife. His son. You would never replace them. At the same time, you did not even intend to. His past was part of him & made him to the man you loved endlessly. Bucky did not receive your blame. Were you mad at him for handing Helmut over to the Wakandans? Absolutely. Then again, the super soldier was the reason why he was out of jail in the first place. It was a fine line between resentment & gratitude.
Luckily, throughout the various missions you had been a part of, you gained Sam’s trust. He took a liking in you & when he saw you struggling, he was eager to help. Obviously, the Raft yielded when the Captain America himself transmitted an inquiry. Only a few hours passed & you were on your way to Helmut’s current accommodation. A small jet that had been arranged just for you. In this instant, you did not feel average anymore. For a second, you experienced what it would feel like to live this kind of lifestyle. The one of a Baron. Why you were still unfamiliar with that even though your boyfriend was rich? Truthfully, you did not touch his money at all. It was his & when he did not have access to it while imprisoned, you did not dare using it either. Loyalty. Of course Zemo suggested utilization for you but you declined politely. After reasoning enough, he swore he fell even harder for you. The staunchness of you was remarkable.
It was bizarre. Entering the Raft with multiple workers circling you. You were told that these were the security measures that had to be met if someone wanted to visit an inmate. To you, it sounded like a poor excuse but you would not speak that thought out loud. Prisoners needed social contact. Physical contact could not be provided, that much you understood. But one would go insane without having the opportunity to see another human being that was not a guard working here.
Your body was a mess. Heart hammering at your chest with such a force, you believed it would burst any second. Irregular breaths left your lips. Trembling hands fiddled with each other in order to prevent others from noticing. Weak knees that threatened to no longer stabilize your body weight with each step you took forward. To bystanders, you probably appeared as a put-together person. On the inside, there was chaos. Nothing but chaos. How would you react? How would he react? Would you have privacy? An audience? Observers? Innumerable questions flooded your mind. Seemingly, having only one purpose. To drown you. To drown every bit of you. But you would not succumb that easily. You were so close to where you wanted to be. The fight could not end now. Disappointment would cloud you. More importantly, it would cloud him.
Four guards. It took four guards to guide you through the facility. To your surprise, the insides radiated a calm, almost content atmosphere. The walk lasted an eternity. At least, that was what it felt like. Your Helmut occupied a cell at the very end of the building. No explanation had been given to you as to why they decided to accommodate him there. Maybe, with Sam’s assistance, you could change his quarters & move it further up to the entrance. That way, if you visited again, you would not have to waltz through every narrow hallway. Listening to the whimpers of some inmates. The screams. The bashing. The…pain. There was only one person here who you were familiar with. Helmut. The others? You had no idea what crimes they implemented to end up at a place as dark as this.
“He’s at the end of that corridor.” one of the guards motioned for the others to leave you alone. His hand gestured to a tall white door that had a small built-in window. Your sight was obstructed by the frosted glass of it.
“Will you join me?” you questioned, wanting to prepare for it if he had to accompany you.
“Generally, yes.” he breathed out, putting his hands in the pockets of his uniform. Then, he sighed quietly & eyed you once more. “But since it was requested you speak to him alone, I’ll leave you be.”
“Whose request was that?” your eyebrows furrowed. The Raft was not an institution for exceptions. At first, the mere thought of getting to see Helmut again was an impossibility.
“Captain America’s.” he stated monotonously. The way his face scrunched up made it obvious that he was less than pleased about this decision. As soon as you were out of here, you had to call Sam & thank him for making this feasible.
“Oh.” it was all you could muster at the moment. There was an overwhelming feeling you had to handle. And it was not exactly one of your specialties.
“The door is unlocked. Walk down the hallway & the cell will come into view. If something happens, there’s an emergency button that should be operated whe-“ you stopped him during his speech.
“Thanks for your concern but I’ll be just fine.” a genuine smile formed on your face. The guard nodded at you, still slightly uncertain, & turned around without another word. Letting the uncomfortable silence envelop you. Your legs were frozen in place, preventing you from running to him. Maybe it was the thought of having to say goodbye again. As wonderful as it was that you were allowed to visit him, the concept of abandoning him broke your heart. The difference between the jail in Germany & this one was that you could not linger close by. The trip lasted for a while. Daily visitations were out of the question.
Slow but steady steps moved you over to the door. A hand raised to the doorknob. The coldness of it grounded you the slightest bit. You had to take a few deep breaths, just like he had instructed you multiple times before, in order to reduce the fast, almost unhealthy pace of your beating heart. Your hand twisted the doorknob to one side & when you heard the lock click, you pushed the door open with your entire body weight. Otherwise, you would have been too weak to do so. Bright lights had you squint your eyes. A hand was used as a shield to block most of the luminosity. When your eyes adjusted to the different setting, you straightened your back & brushed non-existent dust from your clothes. This motion gave you something to do with your hands. It was a much needed distraction. You held your head high, looking straight forward to the very end of the corridor. At the sides, the walls were painted bright white. Almost too bright for your liking. It resembled a hospital & you had never enjoyed them. The consistency of it was broken with the glass wall you were staring at. The one which was straight ahead. His cell, you figured. But there was no silhouette you could make out. Considering the size, you should have noticed him already. But he was not there. So you no longer moved in slow motion but jogged over to the pane.
Fast footsteps echoed in Helmut’s ears. Time was fluid in a jail like that. But it had not been long since a guard brought him breakfast. Whoever visited him now, it seemed to be urgent on the basis of the fast pace they approached. He scooted closer to the frigid wall behind his bed. Something he did to mess with the employees here. At least it gave him something to do. Besides reading tons of books & listening to the radio that had been prepared for him. That was luxurious enough for an inmate. All of a sudden, it was silent. Too quiet for his liking. The next thing he heard was music to his ears.
“Helmut?” your broken voice whispered & filled the room. Was he turning hallucinational? Nobody would blame him in a place like this. But not even his imagination could recall your softness so perfectly. He stood up, carefully, & widened his eyes at the sight of you. There you were, on the other side of the transparent wall. Separating the outside world from the box he found himself in.
“(Y/N)? You’re here.” no time was wasted. Helmut dragged his body as close to yours as his cell allowed him to. One of his hands touched the smooth surface & you mimicked his actions. There were tears threatening to escape but you tried everything to keep them locked inside. “Don’t cry.” the volume of his voice had lowered. Nobody could listen to you in here but it almost felt illicit to talk at a normal volume.
“I’m sorry.” you chuckled shortly, your free hand coming to your face to wipe at your cheeks. How he wanted to be the one to touch your tender skin. To have you lean into his palm.
“What are you sorry for?” the proximity was given yet unattainable. Your gaze averted, staring at the pavement floor.
“I don’t know…For everything?” you shrugged your shoulders, laughing at how incomprehensible you sounded. Helmut shook his head. That was how he knew you. Always being the one to carry everyone’s burden on your own. Though you did not need to.
“Stop that.” it was an order but not a forceful one. One that eased the tension immediately.
“Okay.” you mouthed.
The floor was everything but comfortable but you made do. Sitting cross legged opposite of Helmut was dreamlike. In your dreams, you had skin-to-skin contact but that delight had been denied. Simply having him next to you was enough for now. Helmut had his elbows on his knees, watching your every move. Reminiscing every small detail he could get a glimpse of. But there was nothing new he came across. He remembered you like the back of his hand. Sometimes even more precisely than you did yourself. And yet, his observation resembled the first time when his warm, chocolate brown eyes fell onto your frame. Usually, you handled his stares well but something inside of you told you to inquire.
“What?” you asked with a playful, teasing tone. His eyes locked onto yours. You giggled at his confused state.
“Is there a problem?” Helmut turned insecure for a second. And people who knew him were aware that he was barely ever uncertain.
“No, not at all.” you shook your head to emphasize your words. “Just…you’re staring.” you called him out. It made him laugh, his head falling back briefly.
“Is it forbidden to stare?” one of his eyebrows perked up. “I believe most people are flattered by the attention.” though he played the serious act quite well, you could tell that he was joking.
“You’re awful.” you laughed at his antics.
“I am aware.” he saw you opening your mouth to disagree with him but Helmut was faster. “(Y/N)?”
“What is it?” you rested your intertwined hands in your lap. But he had noticed the trembles. He had noticed you struggling. And he realized that it was because of the position you were currently in.
“How is it like? Outside, I mean.” he skillfully changed the topic before the atmosphere between you two could shift in a negative way.
“You have a radio.” your finger pointed to the one sitting on a small table inside the cell right next to a stack of read-through books. “I’m sure you have an idea of what it’s like.”
“But I would love to hear it from you.” there was an encouraging smile on his lips that you could not resist, no matter what.
“Well, Karli’s dead. Sharon took care of her.” you began & watched him nodding approvingly. “Bucky finished his amends & it really looks like he’s doing much better. He’s taking baby steps but he’s doing well.” you could not suppress the small smile when you spoke about the super soldier. Helmut was not jealous. Bucky & you had become fast friends over time.
“Could you deliver a message from me?” he continued after a hum from you. “Tell James that I am happy for him. And thank him from me.” that warmed your heart. All of the previous disputes aside, they had started tolerating each other. You would not go as far as calling them friends but what was not could still be.
“I will.” you promised with certainty. “Right, um…Sam is Captain America. This job is made for him. I truly believe, with him, we’ll achieve great things.” you quieted down, not exactly knowing how to continue.
“So you established Sam’s & James’ success. But what about you?” he read you too easily. No other person saw through you like he did. That affirmed the close bond you two shared even further.
“What about me?” a phony dumfounded expression was plastered on your face.
“How have you been doing?” it was a question with so much emotion & care hidden beneath, it brought tears to the corners of your eyes instantly. Your attempts to blink them away were gratuitous. They started rolling down over your cheeks. So fast, in fact, you could not even wipe them away with your sleeves in time. Helmut’s heart broke at this sight of you. It was clear as day that you experienced a rough patch. The cause of it was him being imprisoned, that much he knew. “Talk to me.” he whispered & cursed the guards for not granting his partner access inside his cell. But they thought he would plan another escape. At the same time, they were unaware that he would not take the risk to jeopardize your safety with a second try.
“It’s…” you took a deep breath to steady your voice & avoid the wavering & cracking. “It’s been hard.” you admitted quietly. “Without you.” you finished. Your eyes flickered up to his face. His look brought you the tiniest bit of contentment. The way his body language could comfort you in such a way was prodigious.
“Love.” the nickname gained your entire attention. It was like all of your worries melted away by the simple sound of it rolling from his lips. The tears did not stop but they were mixed with happiness now. Gratitude that you shared this moment with him. You were here. Helmut was here. Similar to how it used to be. Yet, entirely different. “Please look at me when I tell you this.” & you obeyed without a second thought. “You are my world. If I could change this situation, trust me that I would instantly. I understand your struggles. And I abominate that I cannot dispose of your demons. Or make them part of my own. Your pain causes me aching ten times worse. It is painful seeing you like this. My love, you must promise me one thing.” it was hard for him to get through this speech without his voice fading at the emotions he was experiencing. But he had to stay strong for you. It would only cause you more distress if you noticed him showing how affected he truly was.
“Anything, Helmut.” your reply followed straight after. If he asked you for something, you would do your very best to make him proud of you.
“Promise me to take care of yourself. I would hate to watch you disappear because of me.” the sincerity assured you how important it was to him.
“Helmut, I don’t think I coul-“ he shushed you when he spotted what you were intending to do.
“Promise me, my love.” he repeated & you closed your eyes briefly, releasing another wave of tears.
“I promise.” your eyelids slowly opened & you could detect the relief in his at your words.
“How did you persuade them into visiting an inmate?” the atmosphere had shifted to a relaxing feel once again. And his attempt to start another conversation was welcomed.
“I didn’t do anything. Though I’ve tried multiple times…Sam came to my aid.” you chuckled at the memory & the excitement you emitted after his call. The news had been the best in a very long time.
“Ah, of course, if Captain America requests a visitation…” Helmut started.
“The chiefs are on board in an instant.” you finished his sentence & the both of you laughed at the tomfoolery.
“Means that Sam is the reason for your stay.” you confirmed his thought process quietly. “Please express my gratitude for him as well.”
“Will do.” you wanted to maintain the dialogue with him but a loud noise from behind you caught you by surprise. The same guard who had instructed your appropriate behavior inside these hallways was back. There was a look on his face you could not quite identify but it left you uneasy.
“Time’s over.” the statement felt like someone stabbed you with a knife. Not once, not twice. Multiple times to cause as much damage as possible. Helmut then stood up from the floor, gesturing for you to do the same. The moment you were on your feet again, your knees were close to giving out. Digging deep inside, you mustered all the strength you had left & fixed your posture. You did that to avoid radiating a fragile appearance. “Bid your goodbyes, I’ll wait by the door.” the guard took his place in the doorway, waiting for you to approach him. Your body faced Helmut’s & you rested both of your hands on the glass in front of you. He mimicked you & if it were not for the transparent border, you would have touched.
“I’ll miss you.” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against the boundary.
“I will miss you more.” he followed right after. “But you are always here with me.” one hand rested above his heart. Goodbyes were difficult. Especially with the ulterior motive of not returning the following day. It would most likely take a while until you would face him again. Secretly, so nobody could discern what you were doing, you pulled a small paper out of your pocket & pushed it through one of the many, tiny holes in the glass wall. It dropped to the floor on the other side. Helmut sent you a questioning glance which you retuned with a soft, gentle smile. Coughing behind you brought you back to reality. You had to leave. As much as it hurt, you turned your back to Helmut & distanced yourself from his cell. Arriving at the exit, you looked over shoulder one last time. One last time, your eyes locked. One last time, you let your tender features speak. One last time. While you walked away from him, he picked the small paper up from the ground. Unfolding it with much care, his eyes got stuck on three little words that were neatly curved in your handwriting. So when your eyes met, he returned that favor without anyone realizing it. His lips moved & you saw him mouthing that same phrase back. Your smile grew wider, as did his. And then you were gone. Of course, you would come back. And with Sam’s help, it would probably be sooner rather than later. He stared at the door where you just walked through. His gaze then turned to the paper in his hands. Never would he let go of it again. He would treat it like it was made out of gold. To him, it was. And it was worth so much more. The feeling it triggered inside of him could not be purchased. It could only be provided by a special someone. That special someone was you. Reading through the note one more time, he sat down on the uncomfortable mattress. The displeasure was ignored for now. For a minute, he bathed in the loving emotions you brought to him.
“I love you. -xo(Y/N)”
Published (05/09/2021) by Cathy
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