#it's hard when you shared like every fibre of your being with someone and then they have just deleted themself out of your existence

[bucketofchum]

Hey do you have permission from the owner to be posting their artwork to your blog?

I wish I had the answer to that question.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Jason, Tim and Dick with an s/o who’s completely the opposite of them??

Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷

Batboys with an s/o completely opposite of them

Dick Grayson

Dick is a very extroverted, active and optimistic individual while you’re very introverted, lazy (let’s all be real here-) and… well, he calls you a realist (because he doesn’t wanna call you a pessimist-).

The two of you have a rather funny dynamic between the two of you: Dick’s always the one dragging you out because you need “sunlight”.

“Come on, s/o! Let’s take a stroll! Gotta get that vitamin D!”

“Dick… it’s 8pm.”

“…” “You get the point, come on now-”

He’s just concern for your health because he loves you and doesn’t want you to just laze at home all the time, you know? And isn’t it nice to take a stroll with your boyfriend?? Come on now-

Dick’s always the one to cheer you up when you’re grumpy or sad (or both), and you’re always there to ground him back to reality when needed and he appreciates that.

Another thing to note is that he actually has poor communication skills when it comes to the relationship, and always feels like he’s a burden to share his problems. You, on the other hand, aren’t afraid to speak your mind and put a lot of trust in him when it comes to communicating challenges within your relationship with Dick and you encouraging him to put trust in you because he will never burden you because you love him honestly makes him admire you, and also fall in love with you even more.

It’ll take some time, not because he doesn’t trust you, it’s just because there’s that lingering thought of not wishing to burden you and also because old habits die hard but… slowly he’ll get there, and that’ll be the one thing you guys can be similar in.

For now, he loves his potato couch cutie (just stroll with him every once in a while at least-) <3

Jason Todd

Has no idea how he even managed to get you, because you’re everything he’s not.

He’s always so emotional, impulsive and jealous, while you’re so calm, rational and trusting in him even when he knows he’s got so much sin in him that he’s not proud of committing, and knows he can’t be forgiven for them at times.

Yet… you never saw that in him. You’ve always thought he’s someone compassionate, loyal and caring, and you love him even at his worse. He’s never thought of himself like that after you told him so sincerely and gently that he almost broke down and cried. You love him so much as much as he loves you it makes him feel so warm and comforted. He just feels so lucky to have you.

He kinda wishes he’s like you, because he’d always think it’s better to be anyone else but you’d tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s always opposites that attract.

He loves you with every fibre of his being, you’re like a second chance given to him. Well, not that he sees you as a way to feel better but he genuinely believes you’re an angel sent to him. Literally. But seriously, he loves you and he’ll try to be a little bit more calmer than let his anger get the best of him. You always can calm him down anyways.

You always told him that his compassion for you touched you, and that his warmth and love is something you’ve never had before from anyone, you make him feel so special, you know that? <3

Tim Drake

Tim’s… all sorts of things. He’s ambivert, more introvert-leaning, but he’s also poor in time management due to his workaholic nature and rather reserved in temperament.

And you were a lot more responsible and better in time management because you ACTUALLY do set limits for yourself than just doing EVERYTHING in one goal. You weren’t a control-freak like him, rather taking things slowly. Just like him, you’re an ambivert but more extrovert-leaning and you had a tendency of getting lost in your emotions, just being more sensitive than him in general.

Every time you try to drag him to bed, shower, eat, just take care of himself he gets a bit pouty every time you do this but he’s touched. You had to open his eyes to let him see that timetables exist, and open up his heart to let him know it’s okay to take a break. Breaks even. He deserves breaks.

Tim is always there to calm you down. You just get so worried for him every time he goes out for patrol because anything could happen to him in Gotham. He reassured you, kissing your forehead softly while you patch him up with a little bit of tears glossing your eyes and tells you he’s okay. He’s never really had people care for him so much to the point they cry which was why when he got a few minor cuts on his arms and torso, he panicked when he saw you cry so much. He makes a mental note to make sure he doesn’t come home too injured, but at the same time you always tell him he shouldn’t hide his pain from you. You just want him safe.

You two just blend well together, and he always feels like he can come to you when he feels troubled. And you can always go to him for comfort.

Bonus: You dragging Tim by his feet to go to bed while his coffee-drunk ass is sighing in defeat and lets you drag him away but smiled tenderly despite being tired. Sigh, fine. He’ll sleep, just for you. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[ladymarycrawley]

Let me ease your pain - John Stones

As I'm going through some tough days I thought writing sth would have helped me so here we go. I've imagined it differently in my head, it's not proofread so don't expect too much.

This is dedicated to @johnstonesfc who's going thorugh some hard moments to, stay strong bestie 🤍

Warning: mentions of death

Tag list: @masonxomount, @prideofpd, @chelsealover, @stonesyy

Death has been and will always be one of humanity's bigger, if not the biggest, mysteries ever: seeing your loved ones fly away from you, people that shared a significant part of their lives gracing yours being taken away from you is terrible, especially if this happens all of a sudden. The moment you get that hateful news it feels as if the ground under your feet magically disappears and start thinking about everything you could have said and done to let that person feel loved or to make them feel your love and, in the end, you always fear you didn’t do enough while that person was alive.

You were sure most people would have felt that way while acknowledging the passing away of someone close or at least it was how you felt the moment you got the news about your relative.

You couldn’t believe it at first, it couldn’t be real. The way your head started spinning around urged you to sit on the sofa behind you, fearing you might have passed out any moment.

Uncontrollable sobs started shaking your body as well but not a hint of tears down your face, only groans of pain leaving your throat. Desperate cries echoed through the walls of your house but it felt as, at the same time, you couldn’t give enough voice to the grief making his way through your body.

John wasn’t there at the moment, he was with his physio to recover from his groin injury but you hoped with every fibre of your soul he would open that door giving access to your house as soon as possible.

When he came back home from his session he found your figure bent over itself, your head in your hands as your gaze was fixed on the wall before you, staring at it blankly.

His eyes were wide open as he caught sight of your figure.

“Y/N?”

You moved your head to the side and the moment he made eye contact with your glossy orbs it was when he realised something really bad must have happened and therefore got really worried.

He jogged to where you were and knelt down to be at your height, taking your head in his hands.

“What happened?”

“My nan died”

John sighed and pulled you into his chest where you could finally let yourself go in a desperate cry where those hot tears that earlier didn’t happen to leave your eyes now were streaming down your face, soaking your boyfriend’s jumper.

“Shh, I’m here” He kept on whispering in your ear like a never stopping lullaby, while stroking your hair.

“I didn’t get to see her nor talk to her lately and I hate myself for it”

“Don’t, she loved you so much and you know that. I’m sure she didn’t care about it”

“But I feel so guilty” Your cry got even louder, sounding rather desperate.

“Don’t feel guilty baby, don’t have to”

You two stood there like this for a while, him holding you close to his chest trying to calm you down as your sobbing was slowly slowing down.

If seeing John home with an injury always left you with a bitter taste because you hated seeing him being forced away from the pitch, on that occasion you were somehow grateful for it because that meant you wouldn’t have to stay home alone with your negative thoughts pervading your mind.

Not many words were exchanged between you two the following moments as you weren’t feeling like doing so. John looked at you from afar, not wanting to bother you but feeling the need, at the same time, to ease your pain.

“You aren’t hungry, are you?”

You shook your head in denial, still sat in that same curled up position you had been staying in for the past hour or so, the only sound in the room being the tv turned on to try not to make you think about what just happened.

“Maybe I’ll prepare some snacks for later, whenever you’re hungry you can have them”

You nodded and, after what felt like a year, you succeeded in raising your stare to look at John taking some vegetables from the fridge, in the attempt to cook something tasty to make you happy. The way he loved you was moving and you were sure you weren’t deserving of such love but you tried to put aside that thought, for that night at least, and appreciate all of his sweet gestures without thinking if it was alright or not.

You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist, careful not to scare as he was holding a knife. At first he was a bit stiffened up, as he wasn’t expecting your hug but then, when he felt your cheek pressed against his back, he relaxed and smiled.

You were breathing in his scent with your eyes closed, as one of the few things that could make you feel at home no matter where you were.

“Thank you. I love you” You said as simply as that sounded. He put the knife down and gave a quick stroke to your hands before taking the right one and bringing it closer to his lips, to kiss your knuckles and your fingertips.

“I love you too”

You smiled and placed a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and went back on the sofa, watching the latest Netflix’s teen movie or, better, using it as a background noise as your eyelids were slowly covering your eyes, meaning you were about to fall asleep.

John wanted to leave you your space so he kept on cooking and then doing the kitchen until he saw you with your eyes closed.

He woke you up gently and scooped you up in his arms. “I’ll take you to bed, you fell asleep watching that funny film” He answered sarcastically as he placed your tired body on your mattress, kissing your forehead.

You clutched his arm as he was going away from your shared bed.

“Stay here” The need to feel his touch was stronger than ever and he smiled knowingly.

“I was about to make some tea, do you fancy a cuppa?”

“The way you do it with a bit of milk?”

“Of course, that’s proper tea” He huffed, rolling his eyes playfully.

A little laugh left your mouth, abandoning your head against the pillow behind your head.

“Don’t be long”

“I won’t, turn on the tv and choose a good film…not that shit you’ve fallen asleep on”

“It wasn’t that bad” You protested in a low voice as he jogged down the stairs.

The weight you were carrying was so heavy you couldn’t avoid crying, not even when John came back holding your boiling hot mugs together with the snacks he prepared earlier on.

He didn’t say anything, just left the tray on his bedside table and slipped under the covers with you, pulling you closer to him so his arm was now resting behind your head and his other free hand was caressing your body, his thumbs drying up your warm tears silently.

“I’m glad we can stay home together these days…I don’t wanna be alone” Your sobs began shaking your body again and he promptly reassured you and engulfed you in his hug.

“You won’t. I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel safe and cheer you up”

You smiled and nuzzled your wet face in his chest.

“Including a hot bath, dinner in bed and all those things”

“I might consider the hot bath…”

“I’m included in the bath, for your info”

“Okay” You sighed “I’ll make this sacrifice of bathing with you” You replied ironically.

“Oh wow baby, you’re so kind” You kissed his lips with a giggle plastered on yours, before closing your eyes.

“I love you so much, John. You have no idea how much I do”

He smiled, letting his fingertips travel back and forth your arm wrapped around his neck.

“You have no idea how much I love you” John brushed your lips against your wet ones. “Much more than you”

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Be My Valentine | Ch- 5  My Forever Valentine

pairing: Vernon x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, slight crack, friends to lovers, non-idol!au, college au

summary: College was hard enough and the thought of spending Valentine’s Day alone and sad was not your style. And the best solution was to go on a platonic date with your best friend Vernon. It goes so well that it becomes a tradition until it gets messy… nothing ever goes wrong by pretend-dating your best friend right?

prev chapter | masterlist 

status: complete

a/n: Here it is, the happy ending I have been waiting to write! Let me know your feedback and thoughts.

warning: swearing

I need to go to Vernon.

You have been telling yourself this for the last eight days. Eight days since you opened the mail. Eight days since any form of denial stopped working and your entire being has been hurting from the hurt you caused yourself. And eight more days till the wretched graduation.

When the thought occurred, you expected your body to act on its own and run to Vernon's apartment but instead, it chose to freeze. You sat there on your desk, staring at the invite, for lord knows how long. First came the realisation- you were a fool in love and an idiot in denial, then came the anger- how could you do that to Vernon, and finally the hurt- the 'what ifs'.

What if Vernon has moved on? What if he realised he doesn't really love you? What if he has found someone else and is finally happy? What if you hurt him so bad that he gave up on finding love and happiness? What if you have lost Vernon forever?

The moment these thoughts seeped into your brain they seemed to slowly traverse your entire being. You felt the pain in every fibre of your being. In every nerve ending, every memory, every muscle and every breath you couldn't fully let go. You remember the last time it was this hard to breathe, the last time you were so entirely alone that the whole wide world felt like it was closing in on you. The last time when everyone around you left you to pick up your own pieces.

It had been years since then. You had Liv and Vernon since the last time. Thank god you still have Liv but there are only certain things even she could help with. And not to mention that she has finally found the little ounce of excitement in her life since her job began and you have no heart to dampen that with your own wounds... again. She still found ways to help- by sharing her happiness with you. By being your support system yet again, even when she has a tough time herself.

You feel guilty, along with every other negative emotion flowing through you. Unfortunately for your compartmentalising brain, you have a few weeks of break before you start your full-time job. What wonderful luck this life has to offer! But life doesn't stop, rather you don't like to stop, and because you seem to be unable to fix the one thing you need to, you end up fixing everything else.

You spend your days fixing. cleaning and rearranging the entire apartment. The minute the first heavy thought occurs, you put on your cleaning gloves, pick up your toolbox and set to work. In the last four days, you have dismantled and rearranged multiple furniture pieces across the apartment. Liv understood it is your coping mechanism and entertains the change the apartment goes through every time she is back home. She is grateful you leave her room alone and you are glad she doesn't ever question your antics.

The heaviness in your chest now returns and you immediately shake your head and focus back on the task hand- wearing your old overalls and start painting the walls of your room. Yep, you had officially gone there.

Just as you had managed to get done with the first coating, your stomach grumbles reminding you that you haven't eaten in a long while. As you remove the rubber gloves and head toward the kitchen the doorbell rings. Groaning loudly you go to open the door, ready to snap at the person on the end, but the person on the other side of the door leaves you frozen.

You blink once, twice and thrice. You open your mouth but no sound comes. Because there he is, Vernon, standing in his grey hoodie and jeans, the headphones around his neck as usual, hair messy, eyes heavy and a small tight-lipped smile on his face.

"Hi."

Once again, your mouth opens, and no sound comes out. His voice sends your brain straight to overdrive and you stay there staring at him. You see him raise his eyebrows and sigh. Eventually, he reaches out, your heart is beating erratically and shakes you by the shoulders slightly.

"Hey loser are you alright?"

"Uh- I- Huh?" He just laughs at your exemplary articulation and lets himself in. You are confused but gain your senses enough to close the door behind him and follow him into your house.

He pauses in the living room, takes in all the changes and turns back to look at you with a dumbfounded look- eyebrows shot up, a ridiculous smile playing on his face- telling you that he has confirmed you're a weird human.

"Did you do all this?" He asks his hands pointing to the room. You nod. He nods as he processes the information.

"Are you hungry?" This question throws you off and you look at him to see if he is joking. Then you notice he has lifted his left hand which is holding a bag of takeout. You want to refuse but your stomach rumbles again, giving you out. He smiles and walks to the kitchen. You watch as he opens multiple cabinets, trying to take cutlery, struggling because everything has been altered in the kitchen. Eventually, he figures it out and you follow him to the couch. He puts the food and cutlery down and sits on the couch, and you follow suit.

This is giving you many flashbacks, you and him on the couch, the same place you had watched countless movies together, gossiped together, cuddled together, and eventually the place you broke his heart. He seems to have either forgotten or chosen to ignore the memories that linger in the air between the two of you like the smell of a wet towel trapped in a closed space. He gives you a plate and you notice the noodles and dumplings from your favourite Thai place. His plate also has the same food. You give him a thankful smile, hoping the pain doesn't seep out of you, and he gives you a cheerful and casual smile as he digs in. You follow suit.

The silence is palpable but only you seem to feel it as Vernon looks as relaxed as he's ever been. He closes his eyes and enjoys the food and a soft hum of approval leaves his mouth. You realise you haven't swallowed the food in your mouth and gulp it down with great difficulty- the way it has been for weeks now.

"Congrats on your job." His words make you choke on your food.

"Uh- I- Thanks." He nods, the smile on his lips.

"Are you not going to congratulate me?" His eyes are widened in childlike wonder and your stomach flips. "Wh-What?"

"Do you not know?" You shake your head in negative, too guilty to speak. His smile falters and he scoffs as he takes another bite of the dumpling. He raises his eyebrow and eyes you to see if you are joking and when he realises not, he slumps back on the couch running a hand through his hair.

Giving a dry laugh he looks back at you again. “I got into the research program.”

“Oh. Oh? Oh my God! Oh wow! Oh my God Vernon, that’s amazing!”

Just as your mind catches up with the news, the joy takes over your body and in a very practised way you move across the couch in one stride and hug him. You’re hugging him, squealing in joy, too happy to realise that he’s frozen and stuck between you and the couch. Once the excitement in your body dies down, you realise the position you’re in and embarrassment crawls up your face as you slowly get up and make your way back to the other end of the couch. Your face, hands, legs and everywhere is burning up and you stuff your face with a dumping in hopes of hiding it.

“Thanks.” He says and you look up to see a shy smile playing on his face. His smile really could light up this whole city and it certainly lightens your heart.

You both remain silent. It’s much less palpable now. A lot more comfortable.

Eventually, you decide it’s high time you sort this out. It is more painful realising he’s right here and yet he’s so far away. To realise all you could have and that you are holding it back for yourself and him.

“We should talk…”

He looks up with raised eyebrows. Not saying a word or indicating any sort of acknowledgment. You still continue with your point.

“We should talk about us.”

“What us?” You whip your head so fast at his words that you are certain you’ve cracked a bone. He looks stoic, with not a hint of… any emotion at all.

“Us… you and me.” You sound dumb.

“You are you and I’m me. That’s all.” He says in a straight tone and you do your best to observe a pinch of any emotion he might’ve been subtly displaying but you find none.

“Vernon.” You sigh and put your head in your hands on your lap.

“What do you want me to say y/n?” He sounds resigned, again.

Your eyes are wet and you blink back the tears. You will not break down without saying what you need to.

Slowly lifting your head from your hands you look up at him.

“Vernon, I’m sorry. And- No don’t say anything for now.” You stop him before he can interrupt. “I fucked up. Big time. I agree. I was just... I was scared. I was scared of hurting you and losing you. I was scared a lot. I still am." You pause to gauge his reaction and he is looking intently at you, doing a fantastic job keeping his emotions at bay. The lack of protest feels like permission to keep going, so you do.

"I was scared because I thought I would lose you entirely if this goes wrong. I thought by not acknowledging my feelings and denying yours, I could make us stay together for a lot longer. Romantic relationships haven't exactly worked that well in my life or even around me. I grew up knowing only instability. When I met Liv and you, I didn't expect you both to become so close to me, to become my found family, in a sense. With Liv, it was easier since there were no confusing big feelings involved. With you... I wanted to keep it easy and safe. Since the day I realised there might be even the slightest of feelings, I did my absolute best to push it down so that I don't lose you. I did everything I could to convince myself that I can't, I shouldn't have feelings for you. I pushed it down so much that my response the other day became an instinctual fight or flight response."

You breathe heavily after saying all that in one flow. You needed to say more but also take a pause because it feels like too much. Your eyes are wet and heavy again, and your knuckles hurt from how hard you were pressing your nails into your palm the whole time. Hanging your head low and closing your eyes, you just take a few breaths and try to unclench your fists.

Right as you are about to give up on unclenching them you feel a weight on your fists. You open your eyes to see Vernon kneeling in front of you and opening your fists and looking at the marks your nails have left on your palms. You continue looking at your fists, unable to meet his eye, as he starts rubbing soothing circles on your palm. He then lifts your palms and kisses lightly on the scars. This is when you break.

The tears are streaming involuntarily as you stare at him, him still trying to soothe your fists with small teardrops trailing down his own cheek. You are on the couch crying, him on his knees holding your hands and teary-eyed. Funny how life can come full circle.

He straightens up and finally meets your eye, glistening with tears and a million emotions you can't bare to identify as you wipe away your own tears.

"When?" Might sound foolish but you know exactly what he is referring to- the first time you began to live in denial.

"The first Valentine's date."

Vernon stares at you for a few seconds, as if to test if you are joking, and breaks into a small smirk.

"So it did work." Now you break into a smile, you are most certain you are blushing too.

"Yeah, very well in fact." This time both of you let out soft and shy giggles. He clears his throat.

"Y/N, I know this is scary. But scary might not be bad. We are scared to lose someone only if they mean that much. I mean I was shit scared, and then the fear turned to anger, jealousy and every ugly emotion ever. But at the end of the day, I was willing to fight. I still am. And I will as long as we have something to fight for. I am not promising you a forever of sunshine and rainbows because we both are not stupid. But I promise to talk things with you, as long as you do too. And to fight for us, for you, for this." He says pointing to the air between us.

You smile and nod, wiping your face with a renewed vigour.

"I really should've just let you talk that day huh?" It's a rhetorical question but Vernon shrugs in agreement earning himself a pout from you.

"Jokes aside, I need you to know that what I said that day was not true... I love you." His eyes light up, his mouth slightly opens in surprise and your heart swells at his reaction. You lean a bit forward, suddenly courageous, and hold his face in your palms.

"I love you Vernon, a lot. A lot more than I can comprehend now that I spent a good two years suppressing it. Turns out I did a very bad job at that." He nods with a big smile lighting up his face. Chucking, you continue. " I loved you from the start as a friend and then began loving you more. And God, even after all this effort and hurt to try and stop that- I didn't succeed. Now I am glad I didn't. I just... I am still shit scared, but I want to be scared while I'm with you. Like you said, I'd rather be scared of losing you than not have you at all."

He's sobbing and smiling into your hands and you are sobbing into his hands that have now moved to hold your face. Eventually, he pulls you into a hug and you reciprocate with such force that both of you end up crashing on the floor- side by side, still in each other's embrace.

He brings his face towards you, you close your eyes and the world comes to a standstill as your lips meet. Your heart seems to untangle itself and even though you are physically out of breath, you feel free to breathe now. He pulls back to see your face, his million-watt smile on full display, as you return it with an equally bright one.

"I love you so much y/n." The words and the emotions in his eyes make you go weak in the knees. You wouldn't mind feeling that giddiness every time. You giggle into his arms in glee.

"Vernon, you asked me to be your platonic Valentine then-" He visibly cringes at the mention of platonic, "- and now, I want you to be my Valentine forever."

"Oh wow. Cliche much. Maybe we can go to the Graduation together first and then talk about Valentines- which is more than ten months away." He scrunches his nose in mock distaste as you playfully hit him and snuggle in closer to his side.

"But yes, you are stuck with me- Valentine and all." He means it.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." And you meant it.

[starrypawz]

AO3 Who wants some Gerry realising he's a bit subby as he gets used to bottoming with a side of fun imagrey about being consumed?

Gerry gives a breathy moan, hand buried in the short curls at the back of Nemo’s hair as they kiss at his neck as Nemo slowly fucks him. He’s on his back, legs bent (A little awkward, but then it’s become apparent a lot of this is a little awkward so that’s nothing new) and he notices how this feels slightly different than the last few times where he’d been bent over. 

Nemo gently bites down on a recent hickey and he whimpers and the brief twinge of pain makes his aching cock twitch. And now he just swims in the sensation instead of pulling that reaction part as he wonders if he should be concerned about the fact that pain feels good.

(Some of the time) 

(Mostly when Nemo’s responsible)

He loosens his grip on Nemo’s hair. And Nemo shifts, cages his shoulders and he looks up into their flushed face for a brief moment before Nemo kisses him. 

And then Nemo kisses him again, and again until it’s all shared breaths and moans. Each beat of his pulse calls out please, please please as he gives himself over to sensation as Nemo brings him ever closer to going over that blissful edge. The warmth that courses through every fibre of him, the softness of skin against skin, the slight pressure and friction against his cock. The way he’s stretched and filled. 

It feels…. Weird.

Still.

But right

So so right 

And so much

So much…

Too…

Too much.

“Gerry?”

He shudders, arm thrown over his face as he shakes.

“Gerry?” 

Shakily he lifts his arm and pants as he finds Nemo lent over him, their flush face one of concern.

Nemo places a hand on his cheek.

“Are… are you ok?” 

He lays there for a few moments as his brain catches up to the fact he’s… spent and empty.

“Y-Yeah,” He manages a little shakily as he wraps a hand gently around their wrist as Nemo gently wipes a tear from his cheek before he sits himself up, “Better than ok,” as he presses his forehead to theirs. 

“You spaced out for a bit there,”

   Gerry chuckles weakly before he cups Nemo’s face, “Maybe your cock is just that good?” 

Gerry gently kisses them and Nemo sighs into their mouth. 

“I…” Gerry sighs as Nemo gently cups his chin, “I’m still getting used to this?”

“Me fucking you?” Nemo grins. 

“I… yeah?” He swallows, “It’s… other than the obvious?”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Gerry snorts, kisses Nemo gently and then presses his forehead to theirs, “Not helping,”

Nemo chuckles. 

Gerry wraps his arms around them and lies down and brings Nemo with him. 

“I need you” He breathes and it’s little effort for Nemo to slip inside him again although they’re still oh so slow and oh so gentle about it and he again feels filled and stretched in a way that just feels so right, so weird but so right. 

Nemo settles against him as he tries to catch skittering thoughts. He tries to catch skittering thoughts, hard enough at the best of times but doubly so as… The Obvious as it’s now been deemed has been deemed continues to stretch and fill him in its light blue splendour from its perch on the harness on Nemo’s hips.  

And it’s…

It’s

Like someone’s cut , through flesh and viscera and cracked through his bones to expose the marrow to feast upon him. 

“This…” Gerry manages after a moment as he cups Nemo’s face, “It’s,” “Would be much easier to think about…” Nemo gives a slow thrust to prove their point,”...If you didn’t have my cock in your arse?”. 

Gerry moans and then snorts, “Yeah,” 

Nemo shifts position until they kneel and his gaze drops until he catches sight of their cum splattered stomach and he feels his cock twitch. Gerry reaches down to gently cup himself and gasps as he finds himself just on the right side of too sensitive. “Gerry?”

“I’m good,” He breathes as he bites down his lip before wraps a hand around himself and slowly starts to tease himself. “So so fucking good,”

Nemo chuckles as they start to move again, he squirms as their cool palm runs over the sensitive skin of his ribs to rest just just thunder his chest and Nemo thumbs over a nipple and he whimpers.

“Good boy,” 

Nemo breathes and he moans as he feels that go right through him.

He loses himself in sensation again, toys with himself as he watches Nemo through half lidded eyes before it’s all a little too much and he moans into the back of his hand as he looks away.

His pulse thrums with more, more, please, please, never stop, never stop, have me, have me, consume me, I’m yours yours yours.

And it feels. 

Weird,

So so weird, but in all the right ways.

[4townlove]

4⭐Town daydream #1

idk if this will become a new form of 4town x reader content im gonna try but i just got hit with this vision in my head while listening to music and i just had to get it out. I'll tag them as "💛 4town daydreams" for my blog but theyre still headcanons so yeah.

I'll keep them non-specific so can be applied to whichever member is your favourite/bias i hope you enjoy.

he screams your name and at the sound of his voice, every fibre of your being shudders. your shoes cement themselves to the ground, and no matter how hard you try to keep walking away, through the current of people bustling against each other, shoulders bumping together like waves crashing across the vast and endless ocean.

he calls your name again, the strain on his desperation to reach you making his voice crack, but he doesn't care. and now, heart hammering so hard in your throat you're certain you havent taken a breath in at least a minute, your head turns on its own.

it was so easy to find his eyes, even in the dark. no matter if you were in the wings and he was on stage, his voice just as majestic and irresistible as it was now, and just like those times, as soon as your eyes met his through everything else, the whole world melted away.

he was still in his 4Town gear, his headset mic bouncing at the corner of his mouth as he sprinted towards you, not caring who he bumped into. it wouldve looked absurd had it not been for the focus gleaming in his eyes, the blue and orange colour palette of his clothes transforming him into a shooting star pushing through the black night sky of the public standing between you.

you tightened your grip on the handle of the suitcase you been tugging along, every muscle tensing against the prospect of facing him, but you still couldn't walk on, couldn't away from him and everything that had been. the decision you'd made and your supposed unwavering justification for it melted as deftly as an ice cube under the brilliant sun that was his gaze, his mere presence amidst the dull, blurry, faceless population.

you'd thought he'd be better without you, that sooner or later, he'd find someone who he actually loved, who would be worthy of that perfect all encompassing adoration he showered on you every single day, from the moment you woke at his side to when you fell asleep in his arms once more.

surely this was better for both of you. surely he would understand. surely you would get over him...

but the more your heart kept you rooted where you stood, watching him through a rising flood of hot, stinging tears as he got closer and closer to you, his own eyes bright and sparkling with heartbreaking care, the less your assurance held ground.

and then there he was, crashing into you and pulling you right against him, strong arms so secure around you, chest heaving as he panted, relief pushing his hot breath over the skin of your neck, his burning cheek pressed against yours so firmly you could feel how his own lifted as he smiled...

your breath caught in your throat, now too tight and dry to swallow; your grip on your suitcase finally giving way as your palms became slick with sweat... and his own hands kept you close...

"please... p-please... don't leave me... i beg you..." he panted. was he trembling?

your heart skipped against his chest, this familiar intoxicating warmth drawing up every single moment you had shared with him, every laugh, every whisper, every secret kiss, every promise of forever...

"......w..why?" you finally managed to choke. "why m-me of of all... possible people?"

he pulled back just enough to gaze into your eyes, so softly that in an instant, you could already see the answer stamped on his soul, could hear it before the three words escaped his lips...

/dont say it. please say it. dont say it. please say it. dont say it. please... please say it/

you could've walked away then before that spell was cast, but you didnt want to. you wanted to stay... truly, you wanted to fall again, and so, as your tears finally slid down your cheek and he caught them on his thumb, you let him answer, admitting to yourself now that this was truly what you wanted more than life itself...

he held your cheek in his warm palm, caressing your face with his thumb and leaned in so his lush and full lips grazed yours ever so slightly, just enough to make you shiver with agonizing anticipation...

and in that breathless moment, he whispered...

"...i love you..."

[liladiurne]

2022 - My year in Fic

Thanks @danpuff-ao3 for the tag!

I probably haven't written as much this year as most of you guys have, because I don't generally write much any given year (due to my horrible snail-paced writing speed 🤣) but there's been a few goodies this year, so I thought I should share! And feel a certain measure of success?

January

Certain Dark Things - (Snarry, E, 50k) Written for Adopt-a-Prompt fest and posted quite late... Based on the prompt: AU. Harry never lived with the Dursleys. He was adopted by the reformed Malfoys as an infant. He is secretly in love with his father's best friend, Severus Snape. Or In which Severus takes a trip to Italy, thinking he'll have a quiet time at the Malfoys' villa, but Harry has other plans. Or... just an excuse to write something loosely based on Call Me By Your Name...

I was wounded. I had suffered irremediable damage. I had seen something sacrosanct that no mortal was meant to lay eyes on, and I was being punished for it. I was like a man possessed, haunted, filled sporadically with a force greater than myself. I wanted to be good, decent, and strong. I wanted to resist the call of his body. But I also wanted to worship him with every fibre of my being. I began to understand the religious fanatics and the zealots. Had I known him when I was a teenager, I would have favoured him over the Dark Lord. I would have followed him to the ends of the earth, built temples in his honour, committed atrocities in his name.

What I felt for him was so deep and so raw I could not quite call it love, but I didn’t know what else to name it.

February

Compulsory Figures - (Snarry, E, 6k) Severus is a four-time Olympic gold medalist and a figure skating legend. He's also a heartless bastard who uses his fame and influence to bed as many pretty young skaters as he can. At eighteen, Harry has just begun training for his first Olympic Games. And he's exactly Severus' type.

The boy has a lot to work on. There are flaws, a considerable number of them, and yet Severus is not surprised that he’s made it this far. Because when he’s on the ice, there is no prying your eyes away. What he does well, he does perfectly, naturally. As easy as breathing. Seamlessly, with such emotion it makes something tighten in Severus’ chest.

He stares darkly from the shadows.

He was not that good at eighteen. He did not have a gift. He’d had to work his arse off just to get to this boy’s level.

He is jealous. And it only makes him want the boy more.

May

An Escape - (Snarry, E, 2k) - Birthday present for my dear Danni. A good excuse to write some filth. A Muggle AU where Severus is a dirtybadwrong Chemistry teacher taking advantage of an abused Harry.

“You must understand that you’re putting me in a very difficult position,” Severus says softly.

“I know,” the boy mutters.

“And if anyone were to find out, I could lose my job.”

“Sir, please. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. I’ll do anything.”

Severus sighs heavily, reluctantly. But secretly his heart is thumping in anticipation. “Very well. Get on with it.”

There is a pause. A few shaky breaths again. Potter’s eyes dart up, look around the empty lot, either to ensure that there is no one around to see, or perhaps hoping for a way out, an escape. But there is no escape, Severus has made sure of it. He’s worked hard for nearly a year to make the boy understand that he is the only escape.

Miraculous - (Snarry, E, 15k) - Written for Snarry-a-Thon. When Severus finds out that the gorgeous and charming young man Lucius set him up with, the one who's accompanying him to his mother's charity ball, is really a hired escort, he is furious and disappointed. At first. But then he realises he can use this to his advantage. After years of celibacy, he's finally found someone he connects with, someone who understands him. And this time, Severus actually has the means to see him again. Or the money. But if money's what it takes to spend time with Harry, then he's more than willing to drain his family's fortune. In an unexpected twist of faith, he might not need to.

What a fool he was. What a bloody idiot. As if a young man like this one, this Godric, could ever willingly want to have anything to do with him. He should have known, if only from the way Godric didn't recoil when he first saw him or didn't find an excuse to leave at once, that he wasn't just someone Lucius had come across and thought would be a good fit for him. Because he is, just like Lucius said, exactly Severus' type. And that's what made him suspicious in the first place, what made Severus believe that there must be more to this than some clever matchmaking. Because not once in over forty years, no matter how much money and prestige are to his name, has Severus ever been able to get anyone of his type. It seemed too perfect to be true. It seemed… nearly miraculous.

August

A Strange Fate - (Snarry, M, 4k) - A birthday gift for my dear Nina. An excuse to write something super artsy. Based on the myth of Pygmalion. Severus is a brilliant but lonely sculptor who falls in love with the beautiful marble statue of a young man he has been working on diligently for years.

The first thing to emerge, from the gaping hole he had made, was the curve of a shoulder. He worked it and polished it right there, in the middle of the opaque block of stone. A delicate shoulder, which he caressed gently afterwards. It looked so out of place and yet so absolutely perfect. It was as if it had always been there to begin with, underneath all the excess marble, and Severus had merely uncovered it. 

It wasn’t the last time he had this impression either. It was so every time he unveiled something new, every time a bit of limb, a glimpse of a muscle came to light. It was so easy. Severus barely felt like he was working at all, merely chiselling at the right places, dislodging the right bits of stone. Whatever was underneath was simply being revealed. 

He wondered sometimes, with a mix of disbelief and elation, whether he was a  sculptor or an archeologist.

And then I started school again and lost all my time for writing... I guess I did update Brighter Than Bright this year, which is a win. And recently started posting a translation, which I'd been meaning to do for a while.

Hopefully I'll have more to share next year!

[krethes]

@wolfstarmicrofic Day Twenty-One: inhale

Set in the same universe as Wildfire.

"Moony, this is Red, do you copy?"

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

"Moony, this is Red, do you copy?"

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

"Moony, this is Red. Do you copy?! Remus!?"

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

"Red, this is Moony."

"Thank fuck. Your vitals monitor is-"

"-Broken. Yeah. Busted."

In.

Hold.

Out.

Hold.

"Padfoot and Prongs are coming with an evac. I'm staying here with you until they get there."

"Pulse is coming down. Switching to wheel and shutting up."

Crack the canister, suck in half a breath, close. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. His lungs scream, every fibre of his being shouting that to survive, he needs to leave the canister open, take a nice deep breath, or run, get out of the trap he's found himself in. Surrounded by fallen logs on all sides, the fire encroaches, eating up the detritus that separates him from the team.

Crack, suck, close, hold. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Repeat.

"I'm still here, Remus. They're on their way."

Crack, suck, close, hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Repeat.

He's got less than an eighth of this tank left. He'd been due for a swap-out before the fire jumped their fucking break. He'd done everything right, they all had, but their job is unpredictable. The only thing about it that is certain, that is guaranteed, is that fire burns and consumes.

Crack, suck, close, hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Hold. Repeat.

Each jump can be their last, he knows this, but he wasn't really expecting this one to be it. Sure, his will is updated, and he and Sirius had their customary pre-jump embrace, looking into the other's eyes and promising to be careful, to be safe, to come back. They both know that one day, they're probably going to have to break that promise. Remus just...wished it wasn't today. He wants to see Sirius's face when he opens the birthday present Remus's already bought for him, months early.

Crack, suck, close, hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Hold. Hold. Repeat.

He knows he can just open the valve all the way and have five, maybe ten delicious, full breaths that will clear the pounding of his head, soothe the burning in his lungs. It would be so easy, but discipline and his need to get back to his friends, his family, to Sirius wins out.

Crack, suck, close, hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Hold. Hold. Hold! Repeat.

The edges of his vision blur, darken, and start to close in on him, and sleep seems like a good idea, because this is a bad dream, a nightmare shared by their like.

"Moony! Prongs, he's over here!!!"

The heat lets up. Strong arms envelope him. His mask is swapped for another, sweat-soaked and sooty. "We've got you, Moony. Breathe. Breathe!" He's shaken, and it startles him out of the wheel rhythm he's kept.

Remus opens his eyes to the terrified face of his husband, and his body sings with relief as fresh oxygen fills him, as Sirius's expression transforms into something peaceful, hopeful. He's safe. He can breathe.

It's straight to the hospital for him, hooked to monitors and strapped to another oxygen tank. It's so cool in here, he shivers, but Sirius's hands are warm on his forehead and gentle along his arm where he's earned a new burn scar.

"Hey," Sirius says, voice cracking.

Remus offers him a small smile, though his lips are dry and split painfully. "Everyone out?" he rasps.

Sirius nods. "Everyone out. Second string is in now, taking over. I'll go back in the morning."

"I should be good to-"

"Moony, no. Remus..." Sirius fixes him with a hard look. "You're stuck here for at least three days. Lily's going to chaperone."

Remus grumbles under his breath that he doesn't need a babysitter, but he knows that he does. Without someone he respects and cares about watching over him, he knows he'll rush right back into the thick of it, into the press and crush of the action, fighting the wildfire, keeping Sirius safe. "You'll come back?"

Sirius leans in and drops a tender, soft kiss to his mouth, and it eases the knot in his chest that has nothing to do with oxygen deprivation. He smells like cedar and hand sanitizer, and Remus wishes he'd just climb over the rail and into bed with him. That way, Remus can wrap around him and never let him go, keep him here, keep him safe, inhale his scent and exhale his love. "I always do."

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[oh-holy-slut]

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her.  On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips.  "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them.  It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible. 

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..." 

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin. 

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip. 

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body. 

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath. 

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

[froshele]

it's always awkward when i tell goy friends about having grown up chassidish and theyre like oh you poor meowmeow did they make you have stupid hair about this thing that, like, is me, still, even though it burned me and i'm very strange and sick and scared a lot of the time

like sure i have religious trauma about it as that sort of thing relates to gender and queerness or whatever and the agonies that trying to make sense of myself put my parents through, but i'm not going to realize through that that all my strictly nonreligious cultural conditioning was bad and wrong and backwards

i learned to be a person in a place that's fundamentally barely even explainable to people on the outside of it, especially anglophones, especially goyim, because well they would have punched my parents square in the jaws or whatever it is people usually say when they hear about how you grew up in a community motheaten with intergenerational trauma

and sure my parents don't believe in my gender identity or want to confront the visible evidence of my sexuality for complicated reasons (and so i have never told them directly although i was a very stupid kid about it) and when i left i spared myself getting married for getting married's sake but also i have a wound where a sense of being a person among people who raised me and want me should be and if i ever return in any meaningful sense i will still have a scar

i can no more unroot the things i learned on my grandfather's knee from the stem of my stupid fruity insubordinate heretic brain and my deepest values than i can unbecome a primate and all i ever got about it on the outside was a lot of uncomfortable w.e.i.r.d the acronym people and otd modox teenagers from other countries who also cannot possibly get it, who cannot conceptualize that my biggest most fuck my entire being agonies about going otd were about the people i hurt

i am a kind of person neither equipped for nor wholly willing to nor optimally healthy in an existence outside of its natural habitat and yet in that natural habitat i would have been at immense risk psychologically and spiritually as time went on anyway

but still, you know, it's my natural habitat

i can't just unlearn my intergenerationally traumatized brainworms and download secular mainstream american ones - not if every fibre of my ethical being thinks normal people's brainworms are stupid! not if i think that condition of being is somehow even less healthy than the one i used to personally exist in! not in a place where it's sometimes reprehensible or naive to care about people and know about sharing!

frieda vizel is right, it gets beser, but it doesn't ever really heal over all the way

sometimes you see a post sort of articulating a similar sentiment that some clowns from tumblr put on your dash and youre like ah. let me get out my clown nose and wig, it turns out this clownade isnt over yet after all... the clown is me i am pierrot and if you squeeze my dinky little corsage flower i burst into ugly suffering tears. i tried to light shabbos candles when my friend was here a few weeks ago and cried super hard for my totty and my mommy and the way i could have been a whole person and made them proud if I'd just been born normal one way or the other

being away from "all of that" isnt easy or natural or the expected consequence of enlightenment it's a visceral displacement of the soul that on some level you know you can't come back from and the next time someone offers their stupid condolences for the first 19 years of my life and not for the howling agony of being THIS of being ME and also NOT WHO I WAS TO THEM i will trample them with my stupid feet ok. like the unicorn in that movie thats not actually about unicorns ok. like this ok

back, back all of you, i can feel this body dying all around me and if there is nothing after then i have to come to terms with that

theres this specific brand of judaism thats """all-accepting""" (of women, lgbt ppl, mentaly ill/disabled ppl, etc) and 'fight with gd behind a dennys' and uwu cute and scrunkly and non-threatening that was bred in captivity by secular americans thats somehow treated as the "real", widespread version of judaism by people on social media and its so so funny and annoying at the same time. and often coexists in gentiles alongside antisemitic beliefs, talking points and ideas. anyways. it drives me insane.

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   tags/warnings: afab!reader, breakup sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), a lot of tears— both sexy and sad, timeskip ofc

♡   —   a/n: my first long piece for tokyo revengers! and ofc my beloved draken had to be the first one <3

♡   —  masterlist

He shouldn’t have come.

That’s the first thing that comes to Draken’s mind when you pull away from his lips to take off your shirt. He’s already half-hard and his pants only get tighter at the sight of your bra right in front of him.

Less than ten minutes ago, he had been sitting on the same couch where he was lying now. Only you weren’t grinding your hips as you were now― your lower lip was trembling as you handed him one of his old sweaters you always used to wear.

He could have chosen to have this conversation any other place. You would have said yes to meeting at a café or strolling down the street. Yet he was the one that asked if he could come over and you were the one that agreed.

Your lips slid against his again, the kiss you shared rough, demanding, but mostly, needy. His skin burnt for you just as the first time he had you and he couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, making a soft moan leave your lips. With his back on the couch and your hands slipping under his shirt, he could barely remember the reason he came to your place was to finally put an end to your tumultuous relationship.

Well, that and because he couldn’t bear not seeing you any longer.

You had seen this day coming long ago. You woke up one morning to the news of an assault on Draken’s motorcycle shop. No matter how many times you asked him, he never gave you any explanations, even if you were sure he was well aware of what had happened. Every time he got a call from his friends he would leave the room and talk in hushed whispers and he started coming up with more and more excuses to avoid spending time with you.

His gentle nature around you had turned harsh and cold with you ever since that day. Draken had remained silent when you asked him about his change of behaviour, and during one heated night where you had ended up yelling, asking if it was something you had done, he finally spoke, only to assure you you hadn’t done anything wrong.

In your search for answers, you reached out to his friends. But rather than that, what you found was even more questions than before. All of them got visibly uncomfortable when you approached them and it didn’t take much to understand they also knew what was happening but refused to talk about it. The only one who gave you a little more information was Chifuyu, during a late-night talk after his store had closed.

“Talk to him,” he advised, ordering the files from the day and avoiding your eyes.

“I tried, he won’t tell me what happened,” you sighed, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him work. “But this wasn’t a random attack, right? It was something personal. If it was random, then someone would have said so. But everyone just shut ups and gives me a pitying look.”

Chifuyu raises his eyes at you.

“Yeah, exactly that look”, you say, passing a hand through your hair.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, putting the files aside. “And not my place to talk to you about it. All I’m saying is everything Draken does is to protect you.”

“Yeah?” you huffed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “Treating someone badly and pushing them away is a way to protect them?”

Chifuyu gave you a sad smile. “Sometimes it can be.”

Even if you knew Chifuyu did his best to keep loyal to his friend while also trying to dissipate your worries, it hadn’t worked. You were sure any day from now Draken would break it off with you. And when you got a call from him asking to come over after almost a week of not seeing you, you understood the time had come.

The next time Draken came to his senses, he had his face buried between your legs. His nose brushed against your clit as his tongue was buried deep within you. The whimpers you were making were music to his ears. He swore he could recognize his name in between your cries a couple of times, but tried not to think much about it. He didn’t want to come to terms with the fact it may be the last time you would call for him like this.

Your legs closed against the sides of his head as you threw your head back in pleasure. Draken put one hand on your inner thigh and forced your legs open, eliciting a sweet gasp from you. He pulled away, the sight of your soaked pussy making his head spin. Fuck, was this really going to be the last time he got to have you like this? Draken slid two fingers across your folds, gathering wetness and then using it to circle your clit gently. He felt your leg twitching under his big hand.

If this was going to be the last time, then he was going to give you something to remember him by.

Draken bent down again and started pressing open-mouthed kisses on your folds. A soft hum escaped your lips as he worked his way around your pussy, making sure there wasn’t a part of it that wasn’t covered by his eager lips. He purposely left your clit for last, his hot breath hovering over it. Those few seconds were enough for you to lift your head, looking down at the man you had just agreed to let go.

His dark eyes met yours, widening just the slightest bit as if he had been caught. He held your gaze for a couple of seconds before taking a long lick, from your entrance to your clit, where he sucked gently, your juices mixing with his saliva.

“You taste so good,” he muttered against your core, slurping like a starved man. His words sent a shock of pleasure between your thighs, making them close against Draken’s head. However, his hands were stronger and they kept you in your place, watching you helplessly wriggle underneath him.

“I love you,” you panted, your thoughts getting cloudy. As a reply, Draken pulled his face away and inserted two of his fingers inside you. Your walls clenched around them, a broken moan stuck on your throat.

The many years he had had you weren’t in vain, as he curved his digits just the right amount and hit that special spot in just a few tries. You threw your head back, hips rising and breath hitching, losing more and more control of your body with every thrust of his fingers. He bent down once more and let his tongue play freely with your clit, his lips circling and sucking just when you needed him to and the tip of his tongue making you see stars.

“Ken— fuck, fuck—,” you whimpered. You put a hand over the one that was holding your thigh open and squeezed it. “Stop, please— I can’t— I don’t— stop. ”

Immediately, Draken pulled away, his concerned face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up until his face was hovering over yours.

“Shit, sorry. You okay? What happened?” he asked in a whisper, inspecting your face as he tried to find a clue of your discomfort. You placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look back into your eyes.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you reassured him, noticing his eyebrows relaxing a bit at your words. “I just— I don’t want to come— I mean, I do, I want— but with you inside. Please, I need you—”

Draken crashed his lips against yours, and you swallowed his moan when you shuffled your legs so he was resting between them, his bulge pressing against you. His shirt was already long forgotten on the floor and now he was fumbling with his pants as he rocked his hips against yours, the kiss getting more and more desperate with every second.

Once his pants joined his shirt, he fished his wallet from one of his pockets and took out a condom. Your chest rose up and down as you watched him put him on, a small warning inside your mind that this was the last time. Emotions were pouring out without you being able to control it, a knot forming on your throat and your heart clenching in pain. Draken hovered over you again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. his breath making you shiver as he slowly started pushing himself inside.

He left small kisses alongside your neck, trying to ease the pain of the stretch that he knew you were experiencing. In all the time you’d been together, he always managed to make your breath hitch every time he slid inside you. You clutched onto his broad shoulders, one of your hands removing his hairband and undoing his braid, letting his long, blonde hair flow free. You repeated his name like a prayer as you rocked your hips, trying to get used to his size.

You ran your fingers up his spine and threaded them with his hair, closing your fist around it around the base of his neck. Draken took it as a sign to start thrusting against you, making more moans leave your mouth and your hand pull his hair a little tighter. Both your legs circled his waist and you locked your ankles with each other, creating a new angle that made tears form in the corner of your eyes. It was too intense and even if your feelings always poured whenever you two were intimate, you could feel as if every fibre of your body was holding onto him, innocently hoping he wouldn’t leave after you were done.

Draken grunted against your neck, his hips picking up the pace and finding the spot his fingers were brushing against just moments ago. You cried out and tightened your legs around his waist, feeling him so deep that you thought you would be reaching your high quick enough. At this, you put your hand on his right shoulder, pushing him away. He turned his head, his nose brushing against your cheek and his hips slowing down.

“Hey,” he said, just a little out of breath. “Talk to me. What do you need?”

You grabbed both sides of his face, bringing him closer to you. The small resistance you felt as first disappeared as he let you manoeuvre him how you wanted. When his dark eyes were hovering over yours, his hips had already stopped, his eyebrow slightly raised as he looked down at you.

“If this— If this is the last time, I want to see you,” you said, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. His eyes widened at your words and you could feel him tense up. However, a moment later, he nodded and pressed a kiss against your lips as his hips resumed their movements.

For the first time, you were able to see Draken’s small expressions as he fucked you. How his lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth and how his eyes were darker than ever, fixed on your eyes. You had never noticed how his nose turned the loveliest shade of pink when he was fucking you so good. Your heart swole and once again you felt too much at the same time. You loved him, you loved him so much. Why couldn’t you make it work?

Draken took your legs and put them over his shoulders, the new position making you whimper. Soft pleas filled the living room and he rutted into you, each of his thrusts getting you closer and closer plus making your brain foggy. There was only Draken, only him, only your boyfriend Ken who was so wonderful and who had made you fall head over heels for him from the moment you had met him.

Your hands were still on each side of his face, your breath colliding against his as you whimpered. Draken started grunting, his hips snapping faster and harder against your core, setting all your body on fire. It was too much— every inch of you was yearning for the man on top of you, not feeling him close enough even if he was buried deep inside of you. Your hands lowered to his shoulders, nails digging on his pale skin. You wanted him, there wasn’t anything else in the world you wanted as bad as him and you knew as soon as this was over, the more and more pleasure you got from him, then the sooner he’d walk out the door.

Tears started prickling on the edge of your eyes and it wasn’t long until one of them rolled down your cheeks, your moans mixing with small sobs. Draken grabbed your jaw with his big palm, forcing him to lock your eyes with his just as you had before. You saw him moving his lips as if preparing himself to say something, but no words came out of his lips. You noticed concern in his features, yet he seemed distressed as he tried to find the right words.

“I love you,” you panted, feeling another tear fall from your cheek.

And that was when Draken knew.

He knew he had to leave you.

Nodding, he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you too,” he muttered, before picking up his pace.

After that, it wasn’t long before you were reaching your orgasms, clenching around your boyfriend and bringing him to the edge as well. He didn’t let go of the hold on your chin as you both climaxed, eyes locked on each other as you crumbled apart and breaths colliding between parted lips.

It took a moment for both of you to catch your breath. As your body started relaxing under Draken’s weight once more, the reminder of your previous conversation where he was putting an end to your relationship came back. You felt a know forming in your throat and by the sad look on Draken’s dark eyes, it was clear he was thinking of the same thing.

He pressed his lips against yours once more, but this time it was softer, gentler, as if it was the first time he was kissing you at all. It didn’t last more than five seconds but it was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. Draken pulled himself away from you and turned his body as he started putting his clothes back on.

You saw him stretching to pick up the old sweater that you had returned to him a moment ago and picked it up before he could reach it. You put it over your body, covering yourself, but it wasn’t enough to make him look at you.

“Please, stay,” you mumbled. You noticed your lover’s arm tensing at your words, but he still started walking towards your door. “Ken.”

The way you whispered his name made his heart clench, his step faltering for a moment. He stood in front of the door, looking at the handle and gathering all the strength he had left.

“Just for tonight,” you insisted. “You can leave in the morning if you want, just… I want―”

“You know what happens if I stay,” he interrupted you. “If I stay, I’ll never leave again.”

“Would that be so bad?”

Draken finally turned around. You looked so small, covering yourself with his old sweater and a part of him was glad he was leaving something behind. The idea of you remembering him even a few years as you find the sweater on the back of one of your drawers brought peace to his heart. He just hoped this goodbye wouldn’t taint the memories you had created together the last couple of years.

“…I’m not losing you,” he sentenced under your confused gaze.

“Ken—”

Cutting our sentence short, Draken finally opened the door and left your apartment. In the silence that filled your living room, you could only listen to his muffled steps as he walked down the hallway.

You couldn’t understand why he was leaving.

But you knew you were never going to see him again.

[tteokdoroki]

what he lost | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.4K

⇝ rating: for everyone.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, exes!au, angst.

⇝ summary: back then; he was young, dumb and a little too prideful, taking your love for granted. now, years down the line he wonders if he’ll ever stand a chance in getting you back or the one in which katsuki bakugou grew up a little too late.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! heavy angst, no happy ending, mentions of toxic relationships, emotional distress, mentions of violence ( explosions, fight scenes, knives, blood ) and cursing all around.

⇝ author’s note(s): greetings everyone!! i hope you’re all doing well, today’s one-shot is a request from @killakatsuki​​, i know you wanted a happy ending but i got a little ahead of myself eee !! anyways thank you all for 400+ followers, i love you all :(

⇝ masterlist | requests

“katsuki bakugou if you leave me right now, please... please don’t come back.”

bakugou had always hated that, he thought, casting his gaze elsewhere in the room. he always hated how you cried when you were angry, red hot tears stinging a pathway down the apples of your usually glowing cheeks.

he couldn’t quite place the reasoning as to why. maybe it was because you rarely ever found yourself angry or perhaps it was how pathetic you looked when your bottom lip wobbled and your harsh words were laced with watery sobs.

or maybe it was because he didn’t want to feel sorry for you, didn’t want to comfort you when he was too prideful to admit that you were right. “whatever, don’t tell me what the fuck to do.” he spits, eyes and voice full of a venom he barely ever uses against you. he watches with a scarlet gaze as you falter, as if a knife has dug deep into your heart and cut you all up but bakugou only scoffs and continues to pack his side kick costume into the duffle bag he’s got on your shared bed.

every fibre of his being is tell him to reach out for you and apologise, he knows that he’s wrong. keeping his late night shifts from you, working extra hours— of course you were going to worry but he needed you to understand that being a hero was his dream above all else. the last thing he needed was a distraction like you.

something in you changed that night, both of you. as the rain hit hard on the roof of your shared apartment, even as you took his things and threw them out into the hall and even as you gave him one last chance on the doorstep. “you can leave now and not comeback or you can stay and we’ll talk this through—“ your eyes spoke to him in a silent plead, asking him if he would really give up the life that you’d built for lies and a better job?

but you knew the answer already.

“like i said,” katsuki rolled his eyes as knowing sobs wracked your body. “i never needed you anyways.”

you slammed the door before he could walk away and forget the tears in your eyes.

six years later and katsuki is pissed.

he’d been irritable since this morning when his interns fucked up the paperwork at his agency— leaving him to clean it up and then when his assistant brought him the wrong coffee and forgot to notify him of the pro hero meeting he was currently attending right at this very minute.

of course heroes of all different calibers were present; including none other than the number two, shoto todoroki, who was in charge of directing this week’s patrol missions but something about that only grinds the explosive pro’s gears even more. although, he could see himself being even more pissed if the number one; deku had shown his face instead of being away on an overseas mission. the schedule for this week’s patrol sits heavily in bakugou’s hand and he almost wants to burn it to pieces just at the thought of working with his future partner.

‘yn ln.’

the sight of your name printed in block capitals next to his has the ash blonde reeling, glancing up to send a blazing scowl towards shoto. he feels set up, as if the half hot, half cold bastard is dangling you right in front of him— its not like todoroki doesn’t know the history that sits between bakugou and yourself, after all,  he had been the friend you’d ran off to during the fight that ended your five year relationship.

it’s like todoroki had a sixth sense because by the time he’d finish announcing the pair ups, he’d tiredly caught wind of katsuki’s heated stare. “bakugou—“

“i wanna fuckin’ switch, icyhot.”

“you can’t.”

bakugou stands from his seat next to kirishima ( who only looks apologetically at his colleagues ), annoyance rippling through his veins as he approaches the taller male. “why the fuck not?” he growls, small explosions sparking in the palms of his sweaty hands ( he was undeniably nervous because of the impending patrol ) the group of heroes simultaneously sigh— having been used to the explosive pro’s usual outbursts.

todoroki sighs, running his cooler hand over his face. “because the pairs have been matched up by quirk and strength, on top of that they were done in advance so if you really have a problem with it then i suggest you take it up with the number one—“ the dual quirked hero falls silent, a triumphant smirk appearing on his lips as red riot pulls his friend away before it’s too late.

“dude, you can’t just go blowing people up!” the red head scolds beneath bakugou’s sailor mouth, wrestling him over to the couch.

katsuki feels defeated, there’s no way to get out of this situation. he’s done his best these last few years to avoid you like the plague. it was somewhat easy, considering you were lower in the ranks compared to him, so there wasn’t much time to interact anyway. but katsuki hated the fact that he had always thought you would fall below him.

nonetheless; he took to switching event time tables around, rejecting hang outs with his old high school friends... all to avoid you, and now that he had to see you face to face, he wasn’t sure how to react. would you still hate him? how did you feel about working with him?

there’s not much time to dwell on the thought for kirishima is already patting his back and guiding him out of the meeting as it ends, the promise of drinks at an ‘heroes only bar’ hanging in the air.

“you’re so handsome, ground zero ! thank you for protecting japan !”

bakugou can feel the bile rising in the back of his throat at the words from the sickly sweet fan, so he gives a nonchalant grunt in response as he finishes up his signature on her notebook before continuing his march to your hero agency. it’s been a few days since the meeting between the pro heroes and all the number three wants is to make it to your agency without being fawned over by more obsessive fans.

he gives the fan a casual wave, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face— either she was expecting his number or for him to grow bashful under her flurry of compliments but katsuki was never one for fan service.

he hated fans that expected something from him, ones who wanted more than a casual chat with their favourite pro hero but he wouldn’t let them in. they didn’t want the intimate, vulnerable sides of katsuki bakugou like you had— maybe that made the ash blonde stuck on you.

yn ln was the only girl in his life who had tried to understand the many layers of the hot headed hero, you saw past his aggressive nature and touched the deepest parts of his soul…parts that you longed to love and keep safe.

you’d loved him for who he was below the surface, not for the money and fame he had come to amass as number three in the ranks.

behind scarlet eyes are the best moments of the hero’s life, each shared with you. katsuki had took for granted the seconds you had been with him, even from the very start— he didn’t care for the way that you held him after he’d been kidnapped, clinging onto him like he’d disappear or would never return to your arms, he should have cherished the tears of worry you shed for him too but katsuki was too prideful at the time.

too full of himself even with his raging nightmares that you had managed to soothe.  

you’d comforted him after he’d failed the licensing exams, promised him he’d still get to be the greatest hero of all time and still, bakugou had cared for none of this. now that he’d thought about it, he hadn’t been good to you, he didn’t know how you’d dealt with they way he undermined your quirk and doubted your ability to protect him when he should have been the one to protect you.

your love was wasted on him, and for that bakugou needed to apologise.

hands in his pockets, katsuki’s mind could have been said to be away with the fairies, haunted by the night he came home with a half hearted apology on his lips to an empty apartment and a note from you. something about staying with the icyhot bastard and not to contact you.

that is until he collided with the back of someone in the crowd. “hey!” he’s quick to growl out to the figure, a slight snarl to the words leaving his mouth. “watch where you’re going, shitty extra—“

“ah, katsuki! nice to see you haven’t changed,” your voice sends shivers down the blonde’s spine, bright red eyes focusing on you and only you. your smile is bright, dazzling under the hot japan sun and even if katsuki hadn’t changed, you certainly had— your pretty eyes he used to get lost in, he used to watch glimmer with tears now hold a different kind of light, they greyish hue that dulled you over your time with him had finally cleared.

you looked healthy, happier and bakugou realises how much your relationship must’ve wore you down.

he feels like he doesn’t deserve the grin that you give him; the one you would save just for him in the early mornings you’d spent together back when you were dating. maybe that makes his heart jumps out of his chest.

“y-yn— “

he hadn’t prepared himself for your sweet, airy giggle that fills the space between you. “ground zero getting shy on me now? don’t tell me you forgot about our shift today, did’ya?”

“n-no, ‘course not, dumbass.” fuck, katsuki’s heart thumps against his ribcage so loud that he’s afraid you might hear it with the little distance between you. since when did you make him nervous? despite the pet name, you still give him a laugh as a flicker of fondness twinges in your bright eyes.

it’s quickly replaced when you blink it away, beckoning ground zero into your hero offices. “nice to see that sailor’s mouth hasn’t changed either ,” you mumble more so to yourself than him. bakugou walks a few paces behind you while you explain to him that you have to finish assigning your sidekicks and interns a few low level missions before you can head off for the day.

the group of young heroes are excitable, seemingly loving the opportunity to work with you— their chatter is loud but it gives katsuki time to drink you in.

crimson eyes travel over your form while you talk— your hero costume has changed a lot since your U.A and sidekick days.

you’d interned under the number two at the time, hawks, thus leading you to have become one of his most trusted sidekicks. no doubt; his skill level had not only  improved your abilities, how you controlled your quirk but your costume as well.

your quirk was known as lullaby, if you could sing a tune in the right pitch to certain groups of people, it allowed you control over the abilities and to put them to sleep. this obviously however meant you were poor at short distance attacks— something bakugou always teased you for, so he was excited to see how you’d improved.

your suit had a visor that allowed you to amplify your quirk, while patterns of the night sky dressed your body— paying homage to your hero name ‘nightsky’.

katsuki felt bad to imprinting the image of your skin tight, midnight blue suit into his mind but back when he had known you like you were his, your costume hadn’t been nearly as advanced as this.

snapping fingers pull him from his thoughts before they can get too hazy.

“eyes are up here, explosion boy.”

katsuki’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, an angry red to rival his gemstone eyes spreading like wildfire across his cheeks. “i wasn’t staring.” he tries his best to defend himself, but your knowing look tells him that you’ve caught him red handed.

“of course you weren’t, sidekicks left about ten minutes ago so we can head out  now—unless you want to keep glaring daggers at my boobs, katsu.” you’re teasing him, voice dripping like honey off of a spoon as you waltz back out onto the streets of japan and leave a bewildered ground zero behind you.

you’ve changed so much since your relationship ended with bakugou, you’re stronger, a vixen and more confident in yourself.

and he hates knowing that he’s the one that kept you down all this time.

patrol remains uneventful even as the afternoon goes on and the stress of japan begin to fill with citizens for the oncoming rush hour.

the lack of action has lead your conversation to die within the wind and leaves katsuki alone with his thoughts for the time being— you only really speak when you catch the blonde staring you down or when he accidentally walks into something ( highly unusual for him ) but he enjoys the seconds where your teasing voice tickles the tips of his ears and you smile so wide his own lips pull into somewhat of a grin.

bakugou doesn’t know why he’s so quiet, not when the storm in his mind brews all the words he should have said to you years ago. the apologies, the grateful thanks that you deserved; none of these could fall from his tongue.

he liked to say he never had the opportunity, which was partly true you were both up and coming herores yes, but you had damn well made sure you’d never have to encounter bakugou unless the situation required it. and it seemed, that years down the line, he was still doing the same.

the thought alone cause nerves to choke him from the inside out, building up in his throat until all he can do is grunt in frustration—  kicking an empty can along the road you’re currently walking down.

“that’s unlike you,” your chuckle cuts through the thick fog of katsuki’s mind, drawing deep red eyes towards your frame. you walk in front of him now, arms folded behind your head while you step backwards— the sight almost comical to anyone passing by. bakugou must look just as shocked because some how he manages to pull the cutest snort from you, even as his face morphs into a snarl and he marches forward to fall into pace with your steps. your eyes dazzle with your next words. “the great katsuki bakugou, quiet? never thought i’d see the day.”

you’ve always been able to read him like an open book, seeing right through the front he puts on. “i haven’t changed.” he grunts through his teeth.

katsuki stops walking when you do, now standing a breaths width away from you. electricity jumps between you both, static forming in the finger tips that just barely brush against bakugou’s arm.

your eyes spell it out for him, clear as day, as you finally reach out to touch him. His own close at the brief gesture, the pain from having lost you blooming across his chest.

“you did.” you breathe out,  the warmth of your soft voice making katsuki’s eyes screw shut.

he could never get a lie past you.

“we both did.”

vermillion eyes open, trying to seek you out in the light of the day as bakugou wills and prays that he can say what he needs to right now, to get you back but he doesn’t have the chance as an explosion cuts through the building on your left.

bakugou manages to wrap his arms around you, shielding you from the blast before you hit the ground. the impulse sends you  both rolling down the street, small grunts escaping you until you roll to a halt and end up on top of katsuki— straddling him.

dust and debris surrounds the pair of you, creating a thick smog in the air as sirens and screams sound off in the distance. the explosive hero groans in pain— no doubt with a litter of bruises forming under his suit but he has no time to register the sting properly before he’s noticing you on top of him, smirk on your face, devilish glint to your eye.

you’ve been waiting for some action all day.

you’re gone in the blink of an eye, so you must have a plan. katsuki remembers from high school that you made up for strategy where you once lacked in strength, so it’s no surprise to him that you’re already on the move. meanwhile; you manage to slide undetected through the smoke, moving fast to take out the low level criminals.

it’s only a robbery, but the explosion could have caused more casualties than you would have liked. you trust that bakugou can take care of the civilians and bring them out of harms way as you do your best o sus out the ringleader.

the grey tinted fog that sweeps over the area allows you both to work quickly; neither of you need to say anything, for one it would give away your position and secondly— there’s an underlying trust in one another that the two of you had built up when you worked together while dating.

bakugou, through his end, tackles down the small group of criminals after clearing the area and making sure no one was hurt. emergency services had been alerted and were already on their way, all there was now, was to predict your next movements and follow your lead. he’d never liked being bossed about, but the look in your eye made him believe you knew what you were doing.

you were right, you’d both changed. you might as well have been a better hero than him.

the ash blonde follows the trail of unconscious wannabe villains to your whereabouts, he only knows that they’re unconscious because of your ability to put people to sleep with your quirk— all you had to do was get close to them, which wouldn’t have been hard as katsuki knew first hand that these guys’ quirks weren’t shit.

“it’s almost funny, how you thought you could pull a stunt like this on a day when all of japan’s biggest heroes are in one place,” bakugou’s ears pick up on you teasing the criminal leader with that smooth chocolate voice and he follows it deeper into the air that’s heavy with debris— glad you were able to find him before the smoke cleared. “even with the number one out of town, tsk, you should have known better…”

the hot headed pro spots you, holding the hooded ringleader in a choke hold with only your thighs as you sit on his shoulders— eyes wide with victory.

he recognises the dip in your voice as you adjust your tone to put the guy to sleep and call it a day. you’re powerful, a great pro and bakugou watches with awe while you get ready to take this guy down once and for all.

“so cocky, nightsky— why do you think we chose attack the street you were on?” the guy spits through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to succumb to your lullaby of a voice.

brows furrowing, you decide not to dwell on the criminal’s words before leaning down to whisper. “sleep...” but katsuki’s body comes alive with fear as the villain wannabe jams a blade into your thigh, causing your grip on him to loosen enough for him to throw you to the floor and put a boot to your throat. “oh miss nightsky, you really rely too much on your quirk and not enough on your senses. hmm, i think it’s time we say goodnight, don’t you?” the guy chuckles while you squirm under his foot— the need for air burning sharply at your lungs.

bakugou, who’s remained hidden this entire time feels himself snap— a heavy explosion loading up behind his gauntlets while he launches himself right into the scene. he won’t let you struggle for your life, not on his watch. “GET YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF OF HER!”

he reaches the criminal just before your eyes roll back into your head, an explosive right hook colliding with their cheek and sending them flying down the street.

the ash blonde reaches down to pull you up into his chest, that very same one heaving with laboured breaths; you’re shaking but it’s nothing you can’t handle even with the red lines at your throat.

“you good?”

“better, thanks to you.”

there’s a look that you wear right now, one that katsuki recognises from years of training and running into fights with you— you want to do the move. he nods at you, vermillion eyes lighting up with a bright fire while you grip onto ground zero’s wrists.

just as the villain stands, you kick your feet off the ground and in the meantime bakugou begins to twirl you in circular motions until you’ve built up enough momentum for him to throw you towards the criminal.

you collide with his back foot first, knocking him to the ground as your eyes glow a bright white. “i said, go the fuck to sleep.”

the criminal drops to sleep and you roll to the ground after taking him out. you smile to yourself at the familiar wail of sirens in the background but don’t bother to make an effort to stand up, letting the exhaustion, pain from the wound in your thigh and bruises at your neck finally flood your body.

sitting beside you, bakugou smirks and holds a fist out to you. “still got it,” he gestures between the pair of you, the same signature move you’ve been doing since high school having worked successfully once again.

“still got it.” you look up to the now clear sky, fist bumping bakugou right back.

he’s going to do it, he thinks, he’s going to apologise.

after everything you and bakugou had been through, something in his chest was relieved to know that you didn’t hate him, something in him is lead to believe that you’re going to give him another chance.

katsuki watches you now, an attendant from the paramedics that you called working on patching up the gash in your thigh while you rub a salve into your neck.

despite the pain you must be in; you’re still glowing, still smiling even when fans ask you for autographs or tell you how brave you were during the fight. you’re so genuine, such a ray of sunshine in the world and bakugou can feel himself falling for you all over again.

“Is that all mr. ground zero, sir?” an officer asks, taking down notes for the report about the incident. the hero nods, waving the kid off after giving them all of the details from today. they thank him and he finds himself marching over to you almost immediately, now that you’re all bandaged up.

“walking already, ln? are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

you beam up at the ash blonde, hopping out of the back of the ambulance and rubbing at the tear in your hero costume where the cut is. “it’s good, stings a little but i’ve seen worse on you,” you comment to him, beginning your stride back to your agency.

“and who’s fault is that, dumbass?” a genuine laughter bubbles in bakugou’s throat, albeit raspy, its not a foreign sound to your ears and it makes you laugh along with him.

he knows you’re referencing the many times you’d kicked hiss ass when sparring from high school to your side kick days. back then you‘d have traced every scar that littered his pretty body and told him how much you loved him.

katsuki aids you while you head back to the nightsky agency, you insist that you don’t need help to walk but you’re limping and the explosive pro hero is stubborn as hell— he’s not about to let you get hurt again, even if its physically and not mentally like he had done to you before.

with the lighter mood, memories flitter between you both— you mention how katsuki used to love his food so spicy you would cry and he brings up the time you had given him and kirishima a bout of food poisoning when you’d come up with an alternative to the latter’s cooking. the stories don’t seem to end even as you lean into him more; trusting him again.

“about what i said earlier…” you begin after finally coming to a halt outside your agency building, a scarlet gaze full of fondness lands on you. you turn to face him with the softest of smiles, half chewing on your bottom lip— something he knew you did when you were nervous. “you’re different, to how…how you were back then and it’s good, katsuki you’re so good…”

there’s a breath of silence, only filled by the quiet hum of city traffic where people are travelling to and from home. “i’m glad i had time to become good,” bakugou offers, forgoing the words ‘for you’ and pausing instead. “i regret who i was back then, with you… thought it made you hate me and that you wouldn’t fuckin’ work with me today.”

you shake your head, breaking contact with bakugou to paw at the stupid tears preparing to make their way down your cheeks. “i-i did hate you for a while, after everything…but we were young and dumb and—“ you freeze as the ash blonde wipes a stray tear from your cheek, you not having realised that it’d escaped. “and i’m so thankful to have met you, to have shared a love with you, you taught me so much and that i could never hate you for.”

“yn...i—“ i love you. i’m sorry. i should have loved you better. the words are there, the ones that katsuki always told himself he would say to you if he had the chance but he finds himself frozen and unable to speak. why? why now? when the perfect chance sat right in front of him, the perfect time for him to make it up to you.

to start over.

“yes, katsuki?”

to get you back.

“yn i’m sorry—“

“—guess who?”

a sing song voice full of positivity bursts through the moment while a pair of hands clasp their way over your pretty eyes and hide them away from the world.

bakugou instantly recognises the voice as belonging to none other than his childhood rival and number one pro hero, deku. he seems to have changed— grown taller, green hair shaved at the sides for an undercut.

the ash blonde isn’t very sure what else has changed, but then again they hadn’t seen much of each other as sidekicks, working under different agencies with different missions.

it was only as they started competing for the top ranks that they started to run the same circles— but bakugou had no idea how you would’ve come to know deku since the blonde hated him and you were dating each other for most of that time.

katsuki is just about to tell the green haired idiot to ‘fuck the fuck off’ for ruining his moment when you do the unexpected.

you clasp your hands over midoriya’s, cheeky smile gracing your lips as you attempt to pull them away from your face. “let me think, could it be? izuku midoriya?” relenting to your cheery voice— deku pulls away from you, hands falling to grip your waist sweetly. possesively. horror flashes behind bakugou’s raging red eyes. you turn in his rival’s strong arms, smiling so hard that it delves deep into the apples of your cheeks. “izu ! when did you get back? i thought you wouldn’t make it in time for today…”

“flew in this morning doll, i wanted to surprise you—“ the number one beams down at you and bakugou’s world crumbles when you cut him off while pressing a chaste kiss to deku’s lips right in front of his eyes.

this couldn’t be happening...since when were you and the damn nerd a thing? why didn’t he realise? why didn’t he grow up and try and get you back sooner?

he has no choice but to sit and stare, a dark cloud now sitting over his shattered heart.

all the while, you’re giggling into deku’s lips, fumbling over his hands that pinch at your sides just to get you to gasp enough for him to kiss you more.  the painful ( well, only for the explosive pro ) lip lock ends when you both come up for air and your eyes land on your ex boyfriend.

“ah, katsuki ! you remember deku right? wait that’s a dumb question you were literally childhood friends—“ you start to ramble, mind getting away from you and katsuki barely registers anything that leaves your lips. his crimson eyes lock with the emerald ones that stare right back at him and hurt swells in his chest.

to deku, he must look like a kicked puppy. a weakling. a loser.

all the things he had labelled izuku midoriya when they were kids.

when bakugou tunes back into your excited rambling, his heart cracks even more in his chest. “this green giant flew all the way in from overseas to come home for wedding planning ! can you believe it?”  the answer to your question is an obvious no.

he had no idea that you had been seeing the number one, let alone being engaged to him. the hot headed hero freezes in his spot when you reach down the chest of your hero costume to pull out a silver necklace.

on the end of it, an engagement ring with a tiny emerald in it’s centre.

katsuki bakugou feels sick, bile rising up in his throat. he’d really lost you. really. “...pretty thing that is, congratulations.” he mentions blankly, eyes trained on midoriya once again. you don’t notice, but deku does and bakugou hates the sympathetic, apologetic look that the fucking nerd gives him.

“mhm ! izu put it on a necklace for me because, well you know, i’m clumsy and didn’t want to lose the thing,”

you’re so clueless that it hurts, burning katsuki from the inside out. that should be him. it should be his arms around you, his lips on yours, his engagement ring on that fucking necklace. not deku’s, not anyone’s. the green headed hero beside you seems to notice the distress ebbing away at your ex and tilts your head up to look at him. “doll, why don’t you head inside and change into something more comfy real quick? we’ve got cake tasting in an hour…”

the tail end of deku’s words are drowned out by your happily animated squeal and with a quick nod you press a kiss to his freckled cheek and bounce inside— missing the way bakugou winces at your display of affection.

it’s quiet despite the bustling sounds of the city but neither if them know what to say, even as the minutes pass.

bakugou knows that you’d be better off with deku, he would treat you right and give you the love that you deserved all along. but that didn’t make it any less painful.

“kacchan, look...“ the number one says eventually, green eyes swirling with guilt. “i’m sorry—“

the blonde shakes his head, spitting his words out through gritted teeth. “don’t...just,” fuck, it hurts to breathe. “just…take care of her for me, you got that deku?”

“yeah, of course…”

the pair of childhood rivals don’t have much time to speak after that, for you’re already bounding out of your agency wearing a comfortable mint green summer dress and pair of red sneakers to rival deku’s, despite the thick bandage to your thigh.

“ready to go?” you ask your fiancé, face as warm and as bright as it had once been when you used to look at bakugou. izuku nods, delight dancing in his eyes despite the nervous chew to his bottom lip, before letting you turn to your ex lover. “great ! well, see you around kasuki, don’t be a stranger ! we’ve got to catch up again sometime, alright?”

you link arms with izuku midoriya, your fiancé, after that—walking away and  leaving ground zero in the dust.

he doesn’t know how long he stands there for, heart in his hands even while he comes to the realisation that you hadn’t gone to todoroki that night when you’d left. no, you’d only told him that so it hurt a little less when he found out midoriya had been the one to look after you. you’d lied because you’d loved him.

you lie because you love him.

and it was only now that katsuki bakugou had realised what he’d lost.

[matsbarzal]

nsfw 18+ #13 with barzal and fluff #2 with him as well :)

nsfw #13. look at the way he looks at you, think he knows i’m fucking you behind his back?

pairing: mat barzal x f!reader word count: 1.1k warning: minors DNI, 18+ fic, mentions of cheating (reader cheats on bf with mat), oral receiving (m), dirty talk, this is legit just smut

It was the same game you played every time you saw him. His eyes would trace your figure, your body swaying to the beat of the music, your mind trying to find itself elsewhere instead of on him. He knew it, he played to it. He knew what made you tick, what mean you yearn for him, the ways to wrap you around his finger and keep your there until you were blissful and content, enough to keep you from getting riled up until the next time.

You loved your boyfriend, with every fibre of your being, you did. He was kind, and generous, and so incredibly loving. But he wasn’t Mat, he was everything that Mat wasn’t, yet Mat was everything you wanted him to be.

The nights you picked were specific, knowing full well Mat would be exactly where you wanted him to be, his eyes watching your every move as you moved yourself around the floor. It was a monthly thing, Mat’s eyes trailing yours as you made your way around his viewing, his eyes focusing on you even when his lips were pressed to the neck of a pretty blonde in a tight skirt.

You were everything he wanted, and everything he couldn’t have whenever he wanted it.

“Playing with fire tonight, aren’t you?” his voice was instantly recognizable, only metres behind you now, the blonde that was in his arms just minutes before now scarce and unable to be seen.

“Didn’t know I was doing anything different tonight, Mr. Barzal,” battling your lashes towards him, you gently pushed your body forward so your palm could lay gently on his chest. Your eyes never lost contact with his, the heat of his body pressing closer to yours with every inch you made yourself move.

“Mr. Barzal, eh? We going full Fifty Shades tonight, babe? Gonna be hard to cover those bruises then,” mewling at the way his lips pressed against the side of your neck, you could barely respond as his hands found themselves pressed against your hips.

Your body moved in sync with the Islanders forward, the beat of the music just egging the two of you on as you moved simultaneously. It took less than an hour for your back to hit the inside of his apartment door, the bottom of your dress already hiked up around your hips as Mat pressed two fingers into you, ripping a load moan from your throat.

“God, you’re absolutely soaked. Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you pushed your head forward to revisit your lips against his, Mat’s fingers finding a steady pace inside of your core as his tongue battled against yours. You could feel the tent in his pants rutting against the skin covered by fabric, his other hand moving down so he could press his thumb against your bundle of nerves, eliciting a whimper from your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his hand.

“So needy for me, baby. You want me to fill you up? Bend you over and push my cock right into your tight little pussy? Maybe pull your hair and ruin this pretty makeup you put on all for me? Is that what you want, baby?”

You could feel him slowing his pace down, expecting a response to fall from your lips. His fingers stopped moving completely when you didn’t answer right away, a mocking pout taking over his lips as he looked at you, your dress rumbled around your hips, your lower body attempting to push itself closer to the man as a pitiful whine fell from your lips.

“Yes, please. Fill me up, Mat. I’ve been such a good girl, I deserve it. Please.”

“Not yet, pretty girl. Get on your knees,” his fingers were pulling out of you, the digits immediately going to his mouth, entering and then leaving with a soft pop as he tasted you.

“God, just like honey.”

Falling to your knees in front of him, Mat did all the work as he unbuckled his pants and pushed them alongside his briefs down, his member springing free. The precum was dripping from the tip, glistening in the dim light of his kitchen. You almost moaned at the sight, almost.

Wasting no time, you used your thumb to gently swipe the little bit of precum around, your hand wrapping itself around the bottom of his cock as your tongue tentatively pressed against the tip. Licking in circles, Mat’s hand found its way into your hair, his grip light as he groaned above, his head tilting back.

Wrapping your lips slowly around the tip, you began to gently bop your head, your hand meeting them in strokes as you began to pick up the pace. Mat’s grip tightening as he began adjusting your rhythm, pushing and pulling you off of his cock, gently fucking your throat as he groaned, his hips stuttering ever so gently every time you used your tongue alongside your lips.

Pulling your hair gently, “Stop… stop. Wanna bend you over.”

Pulling your lips off, you looked up at him with a smirk. You knew your makeup was smudged; your lipstick no longer visible as the mascara streaks made their way down your cheeks.

“Bend over the arm of the couch, wanna see that pretty ass while I fuck you,” obliging with his request, you quickly bent over the arm of the couch, Mat’s hand immediately grabbing for your ass as he kneaded it with his fingers, gently smacking it and smirking from behind you.

You barely had time to think before the head of his cock was pressing against your core, he coated himself in your wetness before sheathing himself inside of you, a loud moan ripping from both of your lips. Not giving you much time to adjust, one hand pressed into your hip as the other wrapped itself in your hair, his hips slamming forward into yours.

“Fuck, Mat,” slapping your ass in response, Mat moved his hand to your front to press against your clit, his thumb rubbing in circular motions as his hips continued slapping against yours.

Not registering what Mat was doing, you felt him shifting his body, his hand dropping your phone that had been previously on the table from when you walked in, in front of you, the screen blaring up at you; a picture of your boyfriend and you presented.

"Look at the way he looks at you, think he knows I’m fucking you behind his back? Fucking this pretty pussy that he thinks is his?"

“Jesus, Mat. You know he doesn’t.”

Biting into the back of your, you could feel the grin attached to his lips. “Good, I don’t mind sharing until your all mine, baby.”

notes: hi!! thank you so much for requesting, your first request was also requested by someone else and has already been posted and is linked under the prompts post. i hope you enjoyed both this and that one <3

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[pinksatinsashes]

Hi hannah! recently there’s been some controversy of being “that girl” and how it’s glorified on tiktok. I love self improvement tumblr because it’s the best thing that’s happened to me and im sure a lot of us! it’s a sense of community! It’s giving me anxiety that “that girl” is being looked down upon when it’s a motivator factor for me to be my dream girl

Hi angel!

Honestly I don't get the controversy and hatred of the trend if I'm being completely honest. I'm not sure if it's because I've made an effort not to get annoyed or bothered by things that don't matter or what but my ultimate verdict is:

It's really not that deep.

I live a life of not stressing my self out about things that don't matter so when I see others doing it, it's just like? Why?

When I see something dumb I go "well that's dumb" then I scroll along. I don't go on about it and ruin it for other people.

Anyway, you want my opinion so lets get into it.

As I said I get both sides.

The Positive Side

The "That girl" trend has inspired a lot of people to take better care of themselves. Do regular exercise, eat better, take care of their mental health.

And seeing as right now things that are being glorified are:

Getting plastic surgery to fit the beauty standard (which is literally always changing)

Victimising yourself in literally every way possible.

Talking bad about yourself as a form of "humour".

Binge eating unhealthy food for views.

Doing drugs and binge drinking.

Trauma dumping

Sharing literally every detail of your life for full on strangers to see.

Being a bimbo????

The That Girl trend is absolutely not the worst thing to come out of tiktok or social media in general.

Now do I think the 'That girl' trend is the best thing ever? Absolutely not.

The Negative Side

Now I'm not even going to talk about how people think its unrealistic and unattainable because I completely disagree and wholeheartedly believe that people are trying to make excuses.

Because waking up early drinking green juice, working out, journalling and meditating really isn't that hard.

I can genuinely do all of that before 9am if I wanted to. Do I? No, because I don't want to.

I don't like green juice and it's really not that great for you. By juicing the fruit and veg you're removing the majority of the fibre and leaving a bunch of sugar with reduced nutritional value. Now this would be fine if it actually tasted good, but it doesn't to me. I'm not trying to act like I'm better than anyone but if I'm going to drink something with very little nutritional value it better taste good.

I don't like waking up "early" to go work out. I wake up at 7-8am every day and that's good enough for me. I also don't like working out in the morning, it tires me out. I work out at 4pm, get home, cook and eat my dinner then chill for a few hours and go to sleep. I always get the best sleep when I do this and it's what works best for me.

I also don't like meditating or journalling in the morning either, I do both those things right before bed.

This all leads to my biggest problem about this trend.

While scrolling through tiktok the other day (before I deleted it) I saw this girl showing the behind the scenes to her self care account. The things she shows in those videos she didn't actually do. She'd get into her shower, film turning it on and never get in, film the face masks and never put them on and lay out pyjamas that she never wore.

It got me to thinking, how many people on the "That girl" trend are actually doing the things that they show and how many are just holding the pose for a second or two for the video then go pig out on the sofa.

My biggest problem is that people are doing it for the trend, for the aesthetic.

The that girl trend is an issue because of what it is.

The that girl trend is about becoming THAT girl that everyone sees on social media that has their life together, and while that isn't inherently wrong, the problem is that it's not really about being "That girl" it's about LOOKING like that girl.

No one is really doing the exercise to look after their body and become healthier, they're doing it to post it on their stories.

No one is drinking green juice because they like it or because it's good for them, they're drinking it because of the trend.

That's the problem, people aren't actually improving themselves, they're just pretending to.

Because self improvement isn't about waking up early drinking green juice, working out, journalling and meditating.

It's about doing things in that are actually achievable and can be maintained. There is no way that I can maintain waking up at 5am everyday to go to the gym, I tried it and I hated it. Now I wake up when I want to and go to the gym at a time that makes sense for me.

Self improvement isn't about journalling because of a trend, it's about journalling for whichever reason that you want to journal. I journal to organise and make sense of my thoughts which VASTLY helps my mental health. Others my journal just so they can look back on their previous days.

Self improvement isn't about eating healthy because of a trend, it's about eating healthy because listen, you only have this one life and this body and if you're going to be here living you better make the most of it and look after yourself.

When you do things because it's trendy, you miss the point a lot of the time. For example, half the 'healthy' meals I see aren't even that healthy. And also what's healthy for me may not be healthy for you.

Self improvement is about improving yourself, not about trying to come across a certain way for social media.

That girl isn't being looked down upon, "That girl" is inspiring but guess what, she does what she does because she wants to and it makes sense for her. not for social media.

Lastly, my love to answer the rest of your question.

"That Girl" Tikok vs Self Improvement Tumblr

I honestly don't think they're the same at all, though they can be if you only follow the aesthetic accounts on Tumblr.

I find that self improvement Tumblr teaches you ways to improve your life. Teaches you how to set boundaries and how to make yourself feel and look better. I've seen so many posts speaking out about being yourself and not following trends.

Self improvement Tumblr is about ACTUAL change. It teaches you how and TikTok just shows you the aesthetic and not so much the hard work that it takes to get there.

TikTok doesn't explain why you drink green juice, just that ooh it looks so pretty with this filter on it.

I've never seen a blog tell you to do something without telling you why, this way you can make an informed decision instead of just taking peoples word for it.

-

I hope this makes you feel better as I understand where you're coming from. Theres nothing wrong with being inspired by the trend or motivated by it. That's the whole point of it. But it's just not helpful when you're making moves to improve yourself because it doesn't tell you how to do it, it just shows you the final product.

Doing all the things that girl does won't make you that girl. Nor should you want to be. You should be the best version of yourself, not someone else.

And also, don't let other peoples thoughts on a trend take the fun out of it for you, you are more than capable of forming your own thoughts and opinions and you should.

Anxiety is hard I know. But there's such a beautiful freedom that comes from not caring about others opinions on you and doing what works best for you.

MUAH xx