#simultaneously having a party while sobbing inside

[russelliv]

not me reading a heart-wrenching fic while dancing queen from the mamma mia soundtrack rings in my ears. what a life <333

[xzaddyzanakinx]

first of all, i fucking love ani being a stalker:(

and what about bestfriend!anakin? but like, he's a bit creepy. he just knows he's been in love with you since you two were kids. you're his first love. you were just to dumb to see it. and he was always there to take care of you and hug you when your boyfriends dump you after he secretly threatens them because no one is too good for you. no one but him.

also, have you never noticed that some of your panties are missing?

I will totally do bestie!Ani. He’d be so sweet but so mean simultaneously.

Warnings: controlling behavior, gaslighting, verbal/emotional abuse/condescension, gen. smut, rough foreplay, hair pulling, dubcon, slut shaming?, kinda innocent/definitely bratty & naive reader, arguing, possessiveness, ownership, misogyny

“Oh for the love of-“ Anakin grabbed your wrist and yanked you roughly away from the handsy jock who’d lured you to the living room couch at this frat house party that you just ‘had to go to’.

“Ani that’s rude! You can’t just do that!” He huffed, protesting physically by stubbing up and trying not to move. “At least let me say goodbye! He was being nice!”

“No! You’re drunk and he’s just talking to you because he thinks you’ll be an easy lay.” He snapped, changing tactics and gripping the back of your neck to steer you toward the door.

“You just let him put his arm around you and squeeze your ass! Are you fucking daft? At this point you’re just asking for it.” He sneered, opening the passenger door of his truck and lifting you up. He reach across you and buckled you in just like he always did.

“Is that what you want?” He asked angrily, throwing the truck in reverse the moment he slammed his own door shut.

“No!” You started crying, your bottom lip wobbling when you realized Anakin was right. “I’m sorry Ani! D-don’t be mad! Please, I’m sorry!” You sniffled.

He let you sob, apologize, beg, and grovel the entire way back to your shared apartment. He got out of the truck silently and walked around to your side, helping you out and shutting your door. His hand on the small of your back as he walked one step behind you until you reached your front door and stepped inside.

“Ani please! Talk to me.” You whined, the silent treatment killed you everytime he did it. “This isn’t fair! I’m sorry I was being s-so stupid! I’m sorry!”

Anakin ignored you, pretending you weren’t even there. He didn’t even miss a stride when you stood in front of him defiantly. He just side stepped you and played it off as though he meant to do it, he scooped up a throw blanket and sat down on the couch.

“Fine!” You stomped off to your bedroom and got changed into a comfy nightie, pouting and sniffling away the remaining tears.

He was really, really pushing it with the silent treatment this time. It’s been almost three hours. It’s 11:00pm and you’ve padded around the kitchen, slamming cabinets as you loudly made yourself a snack. You practically tossed the heavy ceramic plate onto the coffee table with a clatter. You’d tried all your tactics that normally have him holding you, coddling you and comforting you while you apologized profusely. Nothing was working.

You sat down in his lap and blocked his view of the Tv, he was completely unfazed. He simply pulled out his phone instead.

That was the last straw.

“This isn’t fair!” You shrieked, standing up suddenly and pointing your finger in his face. “You’re being an ass! What happened wasn’t my fault!”

His jaw tightened and he struggled not to react, you could tell, his nostrils flared and his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.” You scoffed continuing to chide him animatedly.

Until you said the wrong thing. Oh, you really, really fucked up royally. You’d never seen him so angry. Livid. Livid was a better word.

He swatted your hand away the moment those words left your lips: “You don’t own me. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“I don’t?” He sneered, standing up and using his height to his advantage, towering over you. “Are you sure?”

“What? Yes I’m sure!” You huffed.

“You ungrateful brat.” He snapped. “You depend on me for everything. You live in my apartment. You need me to provide for you: food, clothes, the stupid shit you just have to get everytime we go to the fucking store. You’re worse than a child. I’ve spoiled you until I’ve ruined you. Without me, you’d be hopeless.”

“You know nothing about the real world because I’ve coddled you for years. You’ve never had a job. I do all your homework because your tiny little girl brain can’t handle more than a few words at a time. Fuck! I do everything for you! When was the last time you tied your own shoes?”

“You think I don’t own you?” He growled, ignoring your whimper as your lip trembled. “I do own you.”

“You belong to me.” He scowled. “Why do you think you don’t have a fucking boyfriend, why no one has ever asked you out since fucking freshman year of highschool? Why do you think the only attention you get is from a random creep while you’re wasted and wandered off from me?”

“Everyone else knows you’re mine. Everyone but you.” He yelled. “I’ve spent my life bending over backwards for you! You fucking stupid spoiled bitch!”

He laughed throwing his hands up and running them through his hair.

“The sad thing is: I can’t even blame you for being so goddamn useless. It’s my fault.” He said angrily. “It’s my fault for treating you like a fucking princess your whole life. I’ve waited on you hand and foot for the entirety of my existence.”

You stood there motionless. Mouth gaping in shock, your eyes dry of tears because… how do you even react to this response? It was as if he’d caused you to completely fawn, your gaze fixed on him as your brain raced to process his words.

“You don’t have anything to say?” He scoffed, rubbing his face before snapping his fingers in your face. “Hello? Earth to princess.”

“I love you! I fucking love you.” He yelled and that startled you out of your stupor.

“Love me?” You echoed.

“Yes, you fucking dumbass.” He groaned.

“You love me love me?” You asked, shocked that you’d somehow been so oblivious. Maybe it was because he was right, he’d always treated you this way. You were just to stupid to understand why.

“God.” He grumbled, grabbing a fist full of your hair with his left hand and forcing you down over the armrest of the couch. “I love you. You love me too don’t you?”

“Y-yes.” You nodded, admitting it aloud for the first time.

“Of course you fucking do.” He said in a softer tone, though his actions didn’t mirror it. He roughly pulled down your panties and let them fall to the floor.

“You’re mine aren’t you? I own you. Right?” He demanded, his rough fingertips gently gliding back and forth across your dripping slit. “Fuck. You don’t even have to answer that.” He groaned through gritted teeth.

He swirled his finger around your entrance before dipping inside and removing his finger just as quickly, bringing it to your lips and shoving it in your mouth.

“Suck it clean.” He ordered. “You wouldn’t be so fuckin’ wet if I didn’t own you. Right?”

You simply nodded, your brain addled with the onslaught of information that it struggled to keep up with. You really were useless.

“I’ve been patient.” He said slowly, his tone low and gravely as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, his other keeping it’s place in your hair. “I’ve waited for you to realize it on your own.”

“That was my mistake.” He sighed, unzipping his pants and letting them fall. “I should’ve known you’d need me to spell it out for you, just like with everything else.”

“Well this time I’m gonna show you.” He said sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. “You want that don’t you? You want my cock?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your ass up alittle higher.

“See? Mine.” He chuckled. “Even after all that, you’re still my obedient little puppy aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, too distracted by his cockhead rubbing firmly through your folds to collect your slick.

“You know that’s why I call you puppy right?” He snickered. “Cause you’re my bitch.”

You whimpered, ashamed that you found it incredibly attractive.

“Fuck. So goddamn needy.” He laughed, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up. “Is my little puppy ready for me? Ready for me to fuck this pussy til’ all you have left in that dumb little brain is me?”

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 7th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Well howdy there!! It’s the 7th day of writemas today! Here is the invite post and day 7 prompts! We are so close to the double digits. I can already feel the holiday spirit coming inside me <3. 

BTW ITS STILL THE 7TH FOR ME IM NOT LATEEEEEEEEEEEEE but i make up for it with many many words hahaha i hope its worth it!

Prompts used:

Feeling: The bite of the cold

Dialouge: "Can we fix this?"

Setting: The dead of night + A staircase

Today is Melina’s day to shine! I kinda yapped in this one oops lol

Read about the WIP here!!

Enjoy!!! :) 

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“Can we fix this, please?” “Oh so it’s we now? What’s there for me to do Melina? Go on, tell me. I was quite sure that you were the one neglecting me. Kissing me with the same lips that said I was dead weight for you, holding you back or something! On the same night, mind you!“, her tone rose to a scream as she finished her words, each one hitting Melina with a new kind of bite as they flew out.

“Kim, please. Don’t be like that.” Melina’s lips quivered, concealing the words she spoke into whispers.

“You wonder why you are so alone. You were stepped on all of your life, Melina. No one could just take a moment to appriceant you hard work and truely amazing greatness on display. A child so neglected of such basic love from her loaded mommy and daddy. How sad! So now as an adult, you want to have control. What does a girl like you do? Start a business with daddy’s money! Next you get into many so relationships to show off you still got it! But then you mutate. You turn into just using people to get what you want, and throw them away like garbage, like they never meant anything. You can’t be stopped, you must have it all! All of the fame, the glory, the money, the power. But nothing’s ever enough, no? You got it all, achieved it? But you still wanted more. You were unsatisfied. So, with your glory and family name you use that to get with the ‘most powerful and magical’ girl in town. That’s one more thing you didn’t have and you wanted it. You wanted to use me to pay for some kind of power trip to be on the same level as everyone else and to have me finance it. ” Kim shakily yelled through tears flowing down her face, gasping for “Well guess what? This time you got arrogant, you bled her dry before she was hopelessly devoted to you and she got smart, fast. You can’t be finish with me anymore. Oh, how I hope that makes you just hate me for this. I am leaving you to rot in your miserableness, that you couldn’t finish your goal of becoming the best. But you never will be, you’ll always be beneath everyone. Good day, Melina. Enjoy life with those other greedy slimeballs in the banquet hall, because that’s all you’ll even meet again and all who you deserve to meet. It’s a party after all. Reap what you sowed.”

Kim trotted away from her, and out the golden doors of the Harrier estate. Melina sank to her knees. Then her feet. Then to the stairs where she laid silently sobbed as she watched her now ex-girlfriend walk away from her. She threw her face into her hands and massaged her eyes as she bawled, not caring how her makeup smeared to her white velvet gloves. Her long, pale blue dress and trailing draped across the stairway. 

After a long while of party guests stepping on her dress and over herself to get through her, Melina picked up her now muddied dress and pushed herself out of the same doors that Kim left through hours before. Confronted with the bitting cold air immediately when the doors opened, she persevered through the winds and snow with the same determination and vigor that lead her to the confrontation. Yet, each of Kim’s hurled insults still replayed in her mind as she look at her shiney, but newly scuffed shoes. She held her arms together to combat the chilly air and the emotions simultaneously, physically feeling it seep into her skin.

The cold of the night brushed against Melina’s exposed skin, running a cold shiver across her body. Of course, the one night she ran away from it all, she had to be wearing her thinnest layered dress. She held out her arm to call the carriages over and hopped into one, giving directions to the capital.

~~~~

Eventually, her carriage made it’s way to Haukrosen. In the dead of night, with nothing but her clothes on her back, Melina walked past the gates and into the town. She found herself infront of the recruitment center in the main part of town square. 

Melina swallowed her tears down. Somewhere where I couldn’t possibly be tied down by anything, she thought, smearing the tears off her face and grinning, How convenient that all of my prayers have been answered this night? She walked up to the station that was filled with towering men, their ages ranging from young adult to nearing death, their faces illuminated by the oil lamp posted by the side of the road. Hesitantly, she cleared her throat politely to get their attention. With all their eyes on her, she neatly stacked all of her important papers together and set them down, asking to join the cause, knowing full well there already was a draft days prior yet unsure if she could even be considered for a position, considering her lack of magic.

After a while of checking papers the man in the front spoke, “It says here in our records you never graduated from, or ever enrolled in the academy. Most recruiters would laugh at you on your way out of here just for that. Go home, girl.”

“Please, you have to just look further. I am a valuable asset to the Queens’s army. It is true I didn’t go to the Queen’s Academy for Young Learners of Magic, yes sir. Also yes, I don’t have the documents needed, but you should also realize I’m part of the Harrier family, surely that will mean something to you? Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need t

The man’s face didn’t budge when he heard her family name mentioned. 

“It’s Queensmen, ma’am, but even if you knew that I don’t think you would have a better chance of getting in. There is no way we can take you in to the Queen for the trials, she would think we are pulling her leg or something.”, He shook his head at her and contorted his face into a frank expression.

“Sir, please.” Melina begged, “I can hold my own.”

“I’m not so sure about thi—”

“I have a mastery scores in swordsmanship, martial arts, and academia in the top school in Pytharios—Uoabin, in Haukrosen but, not the Academy, of course—. I was excelling where others failed.”

“Well you are still certainly underqualfi—”

“I can heal people.” She smiled.

“Well then, I’m sure we can put a good word in for you, Queensmen Harrier.” He winked at her as he folded up her score papers and academic records and shoved it in his coat pocket. “Sounds good to me”, She whispered, her smile growing warmer by the second. It’s time for a fresh start.

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[naranciasimp]

Hello I hope requests are open! :) Platonic lowkey romantic Bucci Gang (Not Poly but like the whole gang interacting with reader simultaneously) with a crush that always dances while eating for some reason AAA she could be crying but once food is served and she's munching she just wiggles and jiggles and jumps AAA FLUFF THANK YOU!!!

Food Makes Things Better

Bucciarati Gang x Reader

You were having a bad day. You woke up in a shitty mood, you only got four hours of sleep, you couldn’t get your hair to style to way you wanted it to, you didn’t like any of the outfits you put on, and you had a mission to go on today. Not that you didn’t like missions but you really didn’t want to go on one at the moment.

The mission was simple though. You and Abbacchio had to go and gather intel on someone who may pose a threat to you all later on. After you and Abbacchio came back from your mission you met everyone at Libeccio. They were all sitting down at the table waiting for you two.

You both grabbed a seat. Bucciarati asked how the mission went and Abbacchio gave him the details. Fugo and Narancia were arguing about something stupid, and Giorno and Mista were talking to one another.

You put your head down on the table and groaned. There was nothing that triggered your sudden sadness. It was just everything building up over time. You began to sniffle and then tears began silently falling down your face.

“Y/N? Are you ok,” Giorno asked. Of course Giorno would be the one to notice. He notices everything.

You shook your head but kept it downwards. You sniffed louder than intended.

Narancia stood up from his seat. “Are you crying!? Don’t cry!” He ran next to you and draped his body over yours to hug you.

Abbacchio put his hand on your arm. “What’s going on?”

You laughed to cover up the sobs. Narancia backed away so you could sit up straight. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry guys. Don’t worry about it.”

Bucciarati was still concerned. “Y/N. What happened?”

You sighed. “I’ve just had a shitty day and I’m really tired.”

Everyone stared at you for a minute. That was it? They all knew that you were over emotional. They never made fun of you for it though, in a way it was refreshing to have someone show so much emotion.

���As long as you’re ok,” Fugo said with a sympathetic smile.

All of a sudden food appeared at the table. You didn’t know the group ordered anything yet. The waiter began placing food down on the table. Bucciarati thanked him and turned to you. “Y/N we ordered you your favorite food. Abbacchio we orders yours too.”

You both thanked them and you all began eating. All the sadness you felt earlier began to wash away. You had a bright smile on your face and you were kicking your legs under the table. The chatter box inside of you came out and you began talking to everyone about a subject that made you super happy.

Everyone listened and tried not to look too surprised in the sudden mood switch you experienced. After you finished eating you got up and began walking around the table. No one knew what you were doing but they didn’t stop you. You walked over to Mista and held onto his arm.

Mista gave you a confused look. “Hi?”

“Hi,” you said giggling.

Abbacchio just shock his head and Narancia began laughing with you. Mista just kept on eating despite you hanging off of him. Then when you got bored you walked over to Narancia who was done eating and just sitting down watching you. You grabbed his hands and lightly pulled him up. “We should dance.”

Nara smiled. “Of course! When we get home I’ll show you the new dance me and Mista came up with.”

You jumped in excitement and Giorno smiled. You then ran over to him and hugged him while wiggling back and forth. He laughed a bit.

Then you waddled over to Bucciarati. He didn’t say anything so you began to mumble a song and dance. Your actions were comical and no one in the gang had ever seen you act like this. At first they all assumed something was wrong. They realized quickly that this is just how you are.

You stopped your solo dance party and looked to Pannacotta. “You’re hair looks nice today Fugo!”

“T-thank you,” he stuttered due to him being caught off guard.

Lastly you walked over to Abbacchio and played with his long hair. “Hey Abba!”

“Hi Y/N.”

There was silence while you took off his headband and began separating his hair into three separate parts.

“What are you doing,” Leone asked.

“Braiding your hair!”

He sighed and tried to hide the smile forming on his lips. After you finished to braid you took a hair elastic and tied it to end. “Done!”

The gang tried not to laugh at the sight of Abbacchio’s hair being in a big braid as if he was a girl.

Abba looked at you. “Y/N.”

“Yes!”

He reached underneath his chair and grabbed his headphones. “Do you like classical music?”

“Yeah! It’s good.”

He put the headphones on your head. “Great. Now listen to this and tell me what you think.”

You happily agreed and he pressed the play button to the music. You began to mellow down and tap you foot to the music. Soon your eyes were closed and you almost feel asleep.

Did Leone give you the headphones just so you would calm down? Yes. Did you have to know that? No. He also did really want to share his music with you though. So it was a win win.

The gang a laughed a bit. They all loved you. You were one of them. They would do anything to make sure you were happy and if food and bothering them was the only way then so be it.

[prettynxsty]

Salinity I

Sub!Namjoon x Domme!Reader

Warnings: Pussy spanking, Futa/Girlcock, did I mention Joon has a pussy?, cunnilingus, mentions of nipple play, size kink (small top/ big bottom), mentions of spit and sweat.

Summary: This is a product of my horrible imagination as a 2 part impulse piece. Sometimes you just need a good romp in the comfort of your home.

Namjoon only ever took breaks when his brain needed a cooldown. You’d both been so busy that you didn’t have any time to creep up and ravish him like some cunning predator.

His worries of him being too big for you to mount him subsided after your first few times together. Now you were committed to each other for 3 years.

_

He remembers exactly how your fingers dug into his bigger hips when you ground him along your bulge. He was the most drunk he could have ever been, rum fought his inhibitions and won.

You stepped to the rhythm, locking onto him as you stalked forward. You were beyond the ability to hear the music in the club anymore, the rest of your senses were in overdrive. You move behind him, wrapping your arms around his stomach.

He molds back against you, glancing over his shoulder to greet his new partner. Your thumb brushes over a sliver of his stomach as you guide his waist in a manner that was iniquitous to everything outside of you. Namjoon tilts his hips forward, pressing more of his ass against you.

His lids flutter shut, the rosy brown shading his outer corner was beginning to mix with the ash brown framing the corner of his eye. You felt as if you reached a new echelon of consciousness. Your clothes stuck to your bodies in a way that was disgusting, you’d only realize it when the lure of the party drained out of your stomachs.

You lean in and kiss his jaw, his sweat mingles with the pitiful remains of your unflavored lip balm. Your tongue pushes past your lips, dragging from the corner of his jaw to the bottom of his chin. Acridity, salinity, it rolls over the center of your tongue in a way that makes the pit of your stomach tingle.

He sighed hotly, you could almost see his breath become condensation. The air conditioner works triply as it would in any other establishment, but the amalgamation of bodies exchange energy and heat at a rate so rapid that it couldn’t keep up.

You don’t know how long you danced with him, you end back up in the booth that you rented with your friends. This was the fusion of the growing heat between you, it was now nuclear. You kissed him, pulling him forward until he was forced to drop himself onto your lap.

His anxieties began to manifest, planting a hand on the table to move. But you placed your hand on his, gazing up into his eyes. You always seemed to have a cerebral connection.

He’s okay.

His subconscious echoes. His unease is unable to direct his mind to mirror it, dissipating under your all consuming fire.

_

He sucks in a small breath, quickly shaking the thought from his head. He reaches for the remote at his side on the nightstand, busying himself with finding a channel that could be interesting while simultaneously serving as good background noise should his thoughts consume him.

You toed off your rubber sandals at the entryway, shuffling into your home. You held a few plastic bags from the store, it felt good to feel the spring sun and wind. There wasn’t a pill you could take to fulfill the need to go outside, so it felt good to get out when you were granted the chance.

You and Namjoon were both in agreement that clutter contributed to toppling stress and frustration. So you put everything away in the pantry and store the remaining bags under the sink in the ever growing collection of liners for the smaller waste bins around the home.

You dig around in your sweat shorts and fish out your keys and phone as you enter the room. “What are you watching?”

“Friends.”

“Man,” you shook your head as you neatly placed your keys in the tray on the bureau. You set your phone beside it before you move across the room to climb onto the bed. “I just know there are better things to watch at this time.”

Daytime TV was strange unless you were a child. Everyone else was too busy to watch until the afternoon, older people were clearly the target audience of a lot of these channels. Other stations seemed to simply recycle runs of their longer standing and obscure shows through the midday until the afternoon.

“We pay for cable and don’t use it enough, babe. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” His lips curve into an amused smile towards the end, spreading his arms as a nonverbal request for your touch.

“It’s not a bad thing you’re vegging out, you’re always using that brain.” You carefully crawl over the dark gray comforter, throwing your leg over his hip and lay over his chest. You greet him completely, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

The same bug seems to have bitten you, because you birth the sudden thought that you could kill some time by doing something else entirely. Your loose shorts did nothing to hold your dick in place regardless of what undergarments you wore. Your dick rests against his lower belly. Something shameless crawls up your spine, imagining his shirt hiked up to his collarbone as you helped yourself to his pretty pink nipples.

He casts a short glance down at you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He was well aware that you knew your dick jumped for a beat.

You purse your lips together, debating whether you should truly engage in molesting your relaxing boyfriend. Your mind travels back to your agreement that the both of you made. He would have let you know he absolutely wasn’t in the mood when you entered the room.

Your lips lift with a stupid grin as you move your arms from his embrace, scooting backward until you reach his ankles. You lean forward, digging your fingers under the waistband of his tiny black shorts and begin to work them down.

“What are you doing?” He questions you, lifting his hips for you to take them down the rest of the way. He only ever wore those tiny shorts at home, they might as well have been a pair of panties

“Don’t worry about it, keep watching.” You nudge his legs further apart, laying between them and hook his knees over your shoulders.

He covers his face with a hand, seeing you below him shouldn’t have made his stomach flutter like he held hands with a first love.

“You don’t know how much I think about eating this fat fucking pussy all the time.” You kiss the apex of his plush mound. His outer lips are just as gorgeously tanned as the rest of his latte colored skin, plump and warm from being nestled between his softened thighs.

The heat of his cunt warms your cheeks as you lean in to greet his clit first. His big brown thighs squeeze your ears with a shuddering moan from above you. You suck on the fleshy hood surrounding it with a wet noise, smacking your lips as you release it. You repeat this action in an irregular pattern, which is torturous to him.

You purse your lips, spitting a few stringy globules over his pussy lips before diving in to feast on the rest of him. His velvety inner lips swell with blood as you flick your tongue over them and suck on them hungrily. He curses through gritted teeth when you drag your tongue in between his thick petals, sweeping his nectar away like a greedy dog.

The remote in his hand creaks in his tightening grip, he would never get tired of when you had your way with him. You didn’t squeeze your tongue inside of him, you liked to save your favorite part for the very end.

He hadn’t even felt you shift one of your hands from his thighs, his eyes were closed from the bliss washing over him in waves. Suddenly it felt like the breath was knocked out of his lungs, his stomach tightening and releasing.

You spank your hand over his mouth, your middle finger rebounding from his clit. He could only sigh hotly, trying to catch ahold of his breath before you did it again. The sting made his thighs tremble, he was starting to lose control.

You angled your hand, smacking your hand straight over his fat, swollen folds. He cried out, throwing his head back. You lean in to nurse the sting, grinding your tongue over his spongy little love button.

“Please,” he began to babble. He was closer and closer to falling apart.

Smack.

“Oh god.” He pants, thrashing his head to the right as you dug the thick of your tongue against his clit again. The sting of the slaps began to spread his inner thighs, causing them to tremble even more.

“You’re going to break me, please!” Namjoon’s voice was high and tight, a sob. A world away from his rich baritone.

You gently pinch around the hood of his clit and frantically massage it back and forth as you lap away at his pussylips.

He loses his breath, seizing up as he came. You lap away his milky drips of cream, slowing the furious movement of your hand. Eventually when you feel that you’ve lapped away what he’d be able to give you, you run a soothing hand over his thigh as you pull away.

“Ready to keep going, Joonie?”

He takes in slow, deep breaths to calm his heart before responding with a nod.

[bangtanpromptsfics]

gardenia. (m)

dialogue prompt #7: “Don't push me away anymore”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fwb, angst, smut

word count: 2,110

warnings: mentions of smoking, making out, oral (f receiving), fingering, a brief handjob, protected sex

summary: pretty cliche. you have feelings for your fuck-buddy.

a/n: I think this is the longest smut I've written (?), I know 2k words is nothing for a fic but still 0_0 and with this there are a total of 7 jungkook oneshots so I'll be concentrating on the rest of the members and then begin writing au oneshots!!

masterlist

“Don't push me away anymore”, he pants, “please… ”

“Jungkook I'm not doing this right now”, you snap at him. He looked really tired to have energy to make it back to the apartment, and if it was any other day you would've gladly let him in and give his favorite soft blue blankets and let him cuddle you. 

“I didn't mean it. I was so wrong Y/n. I was stupid. Just let me explain for once…”. He slowly enters in. You hate that however much you tried, he's going to win you over. However much you say you hate him, all of that wall shatters the moment he locks eyes. 

“Explain then”, you cross your arms and watch his frame waddling to sit on the couch. 

“I swear I never knew you had feelings for me“ he ruffles his hair into a mess, his chest clenches when he thinks about all that he has to tell you, “I thought… I thought it was just sex… and… and when you confessed to me during the game, I… I thought it was all a part of it”. 

“You don't need me to tell me all the things I already know Jungkook. You don't have anything else to say?”, you huff. 

“And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made fun of you. I'm an asshole. That was...that was so wrong of me”. He stands up from his seat and comes close, only to see you walking back. It breaks him more. 

It was three days ago when Jimin hosted a party, drinks and all, with some Las Vegas theme just for the sake of it. Since he's part of your close friend circle, you promise to tag along. You should've stayed back to complete that philosophy research paper. 

And then everyone drinks of course. It's some cheap liquid, purple enough to make you lose appetite. But you drink four cups of it anyway and Jungkook nine. 

Then came a dreadful game of truth or dare. A very cliche way to make a love confession. You are usually the type to keep it all in. But you had been fucking Jungkook for so long, it became harder and harder to put a show. As every heated night with him passes, the space for him inside your heart only expands. 

And so you couldn't take it much and went ahead and said that you love Jungkook when Taehyung asked to confess something Jungkook doesn't know about. A rejection was well expected. The only thing you expected in fact. But it got much worse. 

Jungkook went ahead and made fun of you for falling for him. He said your obsession for his dick isn't any love. Yada yada it made you cry, Jungkook sensed he had fucked up, Taehyung felt guilty since he's the one who asked you in the first place and Namjoon made sure you reach your apartment safe, give you a hug and vowed he'll have a talk with Jungkook the next day. 

And so you waited, and grew angry that it really took him three full days to come up with a basic apology. 

But Jungkook was in his own pit of loathing. It took him a few hours into crying on his couch to realise he has feelings for you too. If it was just the fact of pleasure, he would have definitely fucked other girls. But he didn't. 

He enjoyed being with you way too much. But he was dumb and all the more a dick to tease your feelings. 

“Nothing else?, you ask him, with tears demanding to pour out. You keep knawing your skin with nails to stop yourself from crying. 

“I… think… I have feelings for you too”, he whispers and then sobs. His eyes are already puffy. It only showed how much you meant to him, but you're still afraid to jump into conclusions until solid answers. 

“I want you to be sure Koo”.

He feels a wave of relief hit him when you addressed him by his favorite nickname. It gave him hope that you accepted his apology. 

He looks up at you with a smile, “I'm sure. I love you Y/n”.

And then he is putting out a single hand towards you, hoping you'll come to his embrace. He notices the mess you're in while there's few moments of stillness lingering. Your apartment looked like it was in a havoc, a clear representation of both of your fucked up brains. You move a step to let him hold the side of your face. 

It was unreal how healing it was to feel his skin again that you close your eyes to fully dwell in it. 

He very carefully guides your heads into his chest and kisses the crown of it. 

“Koo…”, you smile softly against the softness of his hoodie when he starts rocking both of your bodies from side to side. 

“Hmm?”

You look up to his face. His doe eyes almost disappear inside the red swollen lids when he smiles back at you. You tip-toe to place a sweet kiss on his eyes while he closes it. Planting slow and sensual kisses, just letting the night drape over you.

You move your hands underneath his hoodie to feel his toned torso and he smiles at the warmth of your palm pressing against him. He missed this so much. He missed you so much. And he wants to make things right now.

You give a small nod of consent, telling him it's okay to kiss you. It looked like he was smoking to cope with his feelings. He tasted like the faintness of blunt and mint mouthwash.

“God I love you so much Y/n”, he says again, just to make sure you believe him because he fears you are still holding back.

You cup his face and press back your mouth to his, tongue experimentally laving at him which he happily complies.

Jungkook tugs at your hoodie now, wanting to set your skin ablaze like every time. And after a brief moment of kissing, he pulls your hoodie out making you half naked and aroused.

“Koo please touch me”, you whine, pressing your body towards him. He chuckles before holding your hands and towing you towards your bedroom.

Once making sure the doors and windows are closed, he resumes to you who is waiting rather impatiently at the edge of the bed.

He gets on his knees in front of you, drawing slow circles at the side of your hips, eyes looking for consent yet again. He was afraid if he was being honest. Your relationship seemed really fragile and he is afraid to break it apart once again.

“What's holding you back?”, you read his mind, feeling him not completely present at the moment. He has fear laced in his eyes, in his touch and you want to relieve him of it all.

“It's okay Koo. I promise. Make love to me please”, you assure, holding his face on your palm.

You have never referred to intimacy with Jungkook as ‘making love’, and he is blown away with a certain kind of happiness at that.

He reciprocates a smile before planting smooches on your belly while his hands work on your sweatpants.

Jungkook knows you get pretty self aware of your body at times like this and especially when he has not ridden himself of any clothing yet. So he pulls his hoodie over, a very notable distraction to keep your mind busy while he starts to work up with kissing the blush of your knees.

You spread your legs for him to sit closer to your core, already dripping out juices he craves so much.

He bites and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, slow and steady to make you practically beg for his tongue. And you twist your fingers on his hair to ready yourself.

A silent moan erupts out of you at the first swipe at your core, and you move closer to his face to feel his entire face press on to your pussy.

He kisses the labia like he would to your mouth, taking his time and tasting what you have to give and when his nose presses against your clit, the first audible moan reaches Jungkook’s ears.

You are mostly silent in bed. A very useful information for Jungkook to fuck you whenever and wherever he wants, like he used to on your friend phase days. And to give pleasure to you so intense that you make beautiful melodies despite it was one of his personal goals every time.

Hyped at the sounds he is hearing, he holds nothing back. Diving straight for the much awaited lick of your clit, he kisses and draws patterns with his tongue to pull you apart faster.

“J-jungkoo- ah!”, you mewl, squirming vigorously. The only thing holding you in position to him being his strong arms digging at the side of your hips.

Knowing you wanted to climax so bad, he plunges two of his fingers knuckle deep into your core, scissoring them simultaneously as his mouth works above.

As you come, he laps everything he can and plants a final sweet kiss to the lips of your pussy.

Not giving him a chance to speak, you push your body down to meet him for a kiss, thankful for the mind splitting orgasm.

He stands on his feet and gets on bed to hover your figure.

“Always beautiful...”, he coos and kisses your temple before restarting his sin on your left boob.

“Jungkook please”, you cry out. The stimulation way too much to process and making your walls flutter on your core. He rolls his hips to your pelvis, feeling his hardness straining against the soft material of the sweatpants.

He seemed to be enjoying way to much of controlling you so you reach down to dig past the waistband of his pants to feel his hardness slick with some pre cum.

“Y-y/n”. He stops all of a sudden, parting his swollen lips from your nipples and sighing at the feel of your fingers curling against his length.

You were amused to see him getting worked up with a simple handjob. Your hand is getting slick of more of his pre cum oozing out as time passes by.

“Jungkook...please”, you plead once more and he is quick to act this time. His full expanse of skin exposed to you once his pants are out of the way.

“Are there condoms in the drawer baby?”, he asks quickly whilst palming himself to stay stimulated.

You nod and he gets off of bed to prep himself, knowing you and the belongings of your room all too well.

“Ready baby?”

“I swear to God Koo just do it”, you say this time and watch his chest rumble in a deep groan.

Your hands fly to his shoulders when he presses in the head of his cock. He observes your face twisting in various shades of bliss when he presses into you slowly until fully bottoming out.

Bending your knees, he places himself better and rolls his hips into you, both of you grunting at the feeling.

“F-fuck baby”, he moans, his pace slowly coming up and every switch of speed earns different sounds from you and that drives him more.

You look utterly divine like this. Your delicate hands scratching bruises on his shoulders, lips agape and face covered in faint sweat from the heat of both bodies. At one moment he pulls his cock out all the way back to the tip before ramming it inside you making your skin jump up in delight.

“I'm gonna cum Y/n”, he sighs, feeling his nerves kicking in. He buries his hands between your thighs to rub at your clit, wanting to feel your cum around him as he spills out.

“I'm-”. You feel another band snap, walls clenching around him with your juices which fuels Jungkook’s orgasm. His movements come to a halt once he had drawn out the euphoria and bends down to steal another kiss from you.

“Thank you so much Y/n”

You giggle, squirming your body as he pulls out and discards the condom to the dust bin, “Why Koo?”.

He returns by your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face between your breasts, breathing in the sweet scent, “For believing in me. I was so scared”, he confesses.

Emotions from earlier boils to the surface and you kiss the crown of his head in return.

“Don't worry I won't leave you”

“Yeah?”

You kiss his forehead, “Yeah”.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[some-kindofgnome]

for auld lang syne

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything.”

It’s time for your agency’s extravagant New Years’ Eve party. But after a little sabbatical, there are some things you’re not ready to come back to. 

characters: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, pro hero!bakugou and pro hero!reader, mentions of injury, near-death experiences and gunshots, smoking, drinking, angst with a (filthy) happy ending, me being a whore for glamorous new years’ parties

notes: This fic has been dragging me across the coals since Christmas- I could not get it out of my head, despite how much work I knew it would be to get it out on time. Still, it feels supremely worth it. I have a metric ton of love to give to @hoe-doroki​ for beta-ing this mammoth on such short notice (I dumped it in her lap at 4am) because she really helped me whip it into shape. As always. 💖 

Happy New Year, everyone. 

(MASTERLIST) 

“Won’t be long now.”

Anxiety bleeds into the already-nervous voice of your driver, muffled by the plexiglass divider that separates you. You’ve been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for the past four red lights, barely inching toward the intersection with every green.

You’re well past fashionably late at this point. You’re sure that the commissioned driver’s fearing for his job at this point, knowing exactly how long ago you were supposed to have arrived at your own party.

But you couldn’t care less. The longer it takes you to get there, the better. The vodka you’d downed neat, standing over the bar cart in your polished apartment, sours in the pit of your stomach. And the fact that your outfit barely allows a spare breath isn’t exactly cooling your nerves, either.

You’re draped over the door, resting one elbow on its edge to cushion your jaw as you lay your forehead against the chilly glass. Outside, the crowded traffic casts a golden warmth over the bluish urban night, betraying the slow swirl of fluffy snowflakes that drift lazily into the street.

Tonight has all the makings for an ideal, albeit bitterly cold, New Year’s Eve. But if it were up to you, you’d be watching all the wonder unfold from the comfort of your own bed.

You’ve been away long enough, though, says your agent. It’s time, says your manager. You stay away from the spotlight for too long and we’re going to forget about you, says the Internet.

The glittering gold fabric your stylist presented you with would’ve swelled your heart on any other occasion. He knows your taste to the button. And after breaking into exhausted sobs at your first fitting together, you’d been able to tell him that the outfit was perfect.

At long last, the glossy windows of your agency loom outside. You push the backseat door open before your driver can even kill the engine, stepping out as gracefully as you can muster and pulling the folds of your designer coat demurely closed around your glamorous party clothes. You’re greeted by swaths of flashbulbs and determined shouts of your hero name, and suddenly the practiced gracious smile that you’ve always saved for the cameras is stretching your lips one more time.

You used to love something about this. But you’ve almost never had to face it alone.

Inside, the party’s taken off without you. Your coat’s taken before you can even see who’s hands are slipping it deftly off your shoulders, but by the time you’re ushered into the elevator and sent all the way to the top floor, you’re already sweating with the anticipation of all that’s waiting for you.

The doors open to a rush of guests, each noticing you simultaneously and pushing in to greet you.

Arriving late does absolutely nothing to dissolve the grandness of your entrance. Your attention is immediately pulled in a handful of different directions as celebrities and dignitaries and politicians shake your hands and congratulate you. People you’ve never met are telling you how good it is to see you on your feet again and, despite the overwhelming distractions, you can’t stop searching the crowd.

You don’t want to let yourself search for somebody in particular, but you spot him long before your shame catches up with you.

It’s not a glimpse of his mussed hair you catch, bobbing through the crowd. Nor is it a slip of the edge of his suit, the most devastating shade of midnight blue you could have possibly imagined.

Your eyes, like magnets, are drawn right to his crimson gaze. Lightning shoots through your chest, and you look away so fast you nearly pull a muscle in your neck. You cast your gaze immediately to the red-faced MP in front of you and let yourself stare. Still, from the corner of your eye, you can see the way he lingers, still facing you.

You haven’t seen Katsuki in months. Luckily, your ability to multitask has not faded, and you make easy small talk with the mayor and his wife while you sense him, in all his midnight splendor, disappearing into the crowd again.

A close call. Too close, in fact, not to warrant a drink. You excuse yourself kindly from the mayor’s attention, cutting through the glamorous partygoers until you reach the bar at the center of the room. It’s crowded, but you grab the bartender’s attention quick enough and order the first of many glasses of Dom Perignon.

The agency knows how to spend, for a special occasion.

It’s while you’re trapped at the bar, waiting for that imperative first drink, that he corners you. You spot him an instant too late, sidling between two dancing couples and crossing the short distance between you. There’s no way to skirt subtly away from him now. Instead, you lean more fervently across the bar and immerse yourself in an intense examination of the liquor, shelved decoratively behind the working bartenders.

He hesitates—possibly for the first time ever—but you’re determined not to watch as he searches for the right way to bridge the silence. You spot the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and when he finally speaks it’s low and sharp and bitter.

“That’s a nice dress.”

He has to lean too close to make his voice heard, speaking low and gruff to you in a way he never used to. You’re too anxious to care whether he sees the way you close your eyes to dull the fervent ache that flares in your chest.

He’s not allowed to say things like that to you. Not now.

“Listen.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, pushing ahead.

In the throes of closeness, it’s easy to pick up the tremor in his voice. That kind of shake used to scare you. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you when he’s keeping his temper at bay in public.

He’s opening his mouth to say something else, something deeper and far more expository perhaps, but your champagne arrives with no moment to spare. You pluck it eagerly from the bartender’s fingers with an exceedingly gracious smile and turn quickly in the direction you swear Katsuki’s not blocking.

“Watch it.” He grabs your wrist to keep you from sloshing half your fresh champagne down your front. His touch sears hotter than you’d dreaded, and you can’t stop yourself from flinching at the rough brush of his calloused fingers over your tender inner wrist.

Fuck.

“Don’t run off,” he insists, squeezing your wrist just a little tighter. Your entire body is drawn tight like a bow, but you’re not actively searching for an escape route at this point. Sensing this, he slowly unwraps his fingers, dropping your hand and letting you down half your drink in a couple of parched gulps.

“You look…” you start to say, letting your eyes wander his immaculate form one more time. Whoever cut that suit for him knew his shape well. It fits perfectly. Contrasts his golden hair like the night behind a harvest moon.

Absence has not culled your feelings for him. Especially not when he comes back to you like this.

You take another long, slow sip, ignoring the way Katsuki’s brows shoot toward his hairline when you nearly empty the glass. His gaze darts to the narrow flute in your hand, the prints of peachy lipstick that mar it.

With your heart beating a touch slower, you try again.

“You look good.”  

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“I can’t—” he starts, shaking his head as his eyes swim the crowd. “I’m not doing this.”

“What?” Your stomach drops. When he looks at you again it’s dead straight, burgundy and blazing in that way that used to make you molten.

Now it makes you want to cut and run.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ play nice, like this,” he pushes. He takes a step toward you, letting your name—your real name—fall from his lips as tender and soft as a prayer. “Explain to me why my agent had to tell me you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Katsuki,” you plead quietly, backing away from him a touch. “I don’t want to—I can’t. Here. Please.”

For a million other people he might press on. He might get angry and demand an answer, threaten anything it takes to solve the puzzles in his brain. For you, his strong jaw ticks and he shoves clenched fists back into his ironed pockets.

“Let’s just,” you begin, “make it through to midnight, okay?”

“Fine,” he bites, but he doesn’t like folding to you. He gets you back by clearing his throat and extending you a palm, drawing the attention of the people around you. They turn, charmed by the agency’s finest reappearing as the duo they’ve always adored.

There’s a glint of something in his eyes as he gives his chin a little jut toward the dance floor.

“Dance with me, then.”

You’ve been to hundreds of opulent agency spectacles together. Charity benefits, galas, holiday parties and the like have always been studded by your presence. But no matter how many times you’ve entered the party together, you never managed to get him onto the dance floor. Despite your whining and pleading and fussing, he’s never ever let you drag him out there.

So this feels like a particularly low blow. But the orchestra’s struck up a dreamy rendition of The Way You Look Tonight and there are too many people watching for you to turn him down.

Instead, you down the rest of your champagne, set it on the bar behind you, and slip your hand defiantly into his.

“Fine.”

His fingers close gently around your palm and he gives it a lingering squeeze that turns your blood to venom.

You’re already racing through a complex plan to survive this attention as he walks you onto the dance floor. Some of the other couples pause in their swaying to send a smattering of applause over the crowd. You can feel the winning smile tugging at your mouth, forcing you to swallow the panicked ache in your chest.  

Katsuki pauses at the center of the dance floor and pulls you slowly closer. The low dip of your gown places his warm hand on bare skin when he settles it in the small of your back, and you’re sure he doesn’t miss the sharp little suck of breath that you’re not prepared to hide.

He does not try to speak, so you’re silent as you settle a shaky hand on the shoulder of his perfect suit. He’s as perfect a dancer as you’ve always known he’d be, and he leads you into a smooth little sway that’s easy enough to navigate in your precarious gold heels but sweeps you into the music like a scene from years gone by.

“Hey,” he grunts a few bars in, ducking a little closer as his fingers press into the bare skin of your spine. He pulls you against him, forcing your tense body against his. The gentle dip of his hairstyle brushes your temple as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. “You’re holding your breath.”

You deflate against him, letting your eyes fall shut. When you take your next careful inhale, your head is filled by the heady, smoky scent of him. Your heart pounds so forcefully it’s practically blinding you. But above all else you hate yourself for still feeling all of this, after so many months of promising to force it away.

Katsuki knows you well enough not to try and trap you in conversation in public. But he doesn’t pull back any further, continuing to hold you flush against him, letting your soft cheek brush his with every couple of steps.

Despite your best efforts, you’re drowning in him: the strength of his touch, the fluidity in his movements. His thumb strokes the base of your spine with an easy rhythm that you’re trying hard not to notice. It’s becoming too much. He’s holding you closer than a colleague should, tucking his nose too attentively against the side of your head for a courtesy dance. You’re overthinking too many of the signs. You’re letting yourself believe what should have been thoroughly dashed to pieces so many months ago.

It’s when tears well behind your glittery eyelids that you put a stop to it.

“Katsuki, I—” You can’t finish, pushing yourself sharply away from his chest. Whatever expression of dreamlike peace that had touched his eyes fades quickly as he sees the telltale wet sparkle in yours, and he reaches for you an instant too late.

He calls your name softly, fingertips brushing the edge of your upper arm. But your tears are spilling over and you’re backing away and you cannot be here anymore, not when people are starting to see.

“I can’t do this,” you plead. “I can’t pre—I’m sorry.”

With a final shake of your head, you turn and hurry clumsily from the dance floor, pulling up the beaded skirt of your heavy gown and sweeping, as quickly as possible, to the glass doors shut tightly against the imposing snow on the terrace.

It’s bitterly cold, nearly fifty storeys up, and the wind whips mercilessly past your bare arms with biting chill. You can’t stay out here long, but it still feels better than the alternative.

With shaking fingers, you dip into the tiny bag you’ve been wearing over one shoulder. You’ve stashed exactly one emergency cigarette in its silky depths. You haven’t smoked in weeks, but something told you that tonight would beg one.

You have to back away from the railing to even light it in the wind, but you’re barely two puffs in before the door behind you opens carefully.

It’s the last person in the world you hoped for. And the only one you can imagine finding you out here. He’s got a glass of something neat in each hand—amber in one, clear in the other. He spies the cigarette in your fingers and his soft, concerned expression melts into a scowl.

“You’re still smoking?”

You take a defiant drag, blowing the smoke in his direction. The wind catches it, carrying it in a sharp curve back over your head. Katsuki licks his lower lip, but you can tell by the way his nose twitches that he’s trying not to chuckle.

You nod toward the whiskey in his right hand. “How many of those have you had tonight?”

“Not enough,” he quips. He nods toward the cigarette. “Put it out.”

“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”

“I said put it out.”

Your livid soul wants to defy him. You’re craving the conflict that inevitably comes when you both dig in your heels. But you’ve got no energy left to fight, so you flick the smoke dejectedly onto the wet pavement and crush it under one delicate pump.

“Better?” The attitude cuts cruelly through your voice. Katsuki just pushes the other glass into your hand and you know that it’s gin before you even have to smell it. You roll your eyes.

“The healthier alternative,” you snarl, but he’s finished with your games.

“Come inside,” he prompts. “You’re gonna lose your nose out here.”

“I’m not sure that’s your problem any longer.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Katsuki, I wanna hear you say it.”

He’s throwing back an irritated slug of his drink, but he bristles, gesturing wildly with the cup.

“Like we’re not gonna be partners anymore.”

His voice is punctuated by a horrible, involuntary sob that breaks from your lips. He’s always been able to read you so well, picking up on things that you’re not even ready to acknowledge. But he’s right. That is how you’ve been speaking, because you can’t even imagine standing next to him in a photo right now, let alone letting him take your life into his hands.  

Katsuki moves forward, shocked by your tears, but you hold your empty palm out straight and, like he would only for you, he relents.

“Because I don’t think we can be anymore.”

“Shut up. Look at you. You’re fine. You look…” his eyes cast briefly over your form, “fine.”

You clap a hand protectively to your abdomen, remembering the painful tug and knowing that he’s missing the point.

“That’s not why,” you snap through your tears. “That’s not even…close to why. Katsuki, don’t be dense.” Your voice is breaking because you’re about to say it, the thing you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel as you were zipped into your gown earlier tonight. And if you’re going to say it, there’s no point in doing it with gusto.

Might as well go out like the whimpering fool you are.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whine, “because somehow, despite my best efforts, Katsuki, I fell fucking in love with you, so hard, and you knew I did, and so you…you don’t. You don’t, and I’ve ruined everything, and that’s fine, but I—”

He pulls your name from the very depths of his chest. If you were expecting fire and brimstone, you’re met with an even more harrowing sight—soft, somber, remorseful Katsuki, looking at you like he’d stop the world on its axis if it would make things better.

The memories are too easy to reconjure, and the sunshine of that sticky summer afternoon that changed everything lights up behind his gaze.

There was a crime syndicate you’d been uprooting for months. An underground hideout tucked well away from the prying eyes of hero society. A stray spray of bullets—bullets, of all things, finding the gaps in your shattered armour and nearly taking you from him.

You’d been sure. Both of you. There were too many shots. There was too much blood. The hideout was too well-hidden for anybody to find you in time. Your vision was bleeding out around the edges, and you saw Katsuki cry real tears for the first time.

In a slurred heap of breathless prose, you’d unloaded everything. The most important secret you’d ever kept from him came spilling from your blood-tinged lips.

You were glad to go, if it meant you never had to lose him. Glad to be the one to selfishly leave him behind. You were going to be okay if you never had to face a world without him in it. Because—and you’d choked this on a fresh wave of blood and ungraceful spittle—you’d loved him as long as you’d ever known him.

Six days later, you woke up alone in the ICU. And that was the last you’d seen or heard or known of the man who’d once promised to have your back, always.

Katsuki silently finishes his drink. His cheeks and nose have flushed deeply from the ruthless chill, and he turns to give the city one last glance before moving toward the door.

“Come inside,” he gruffs. Deep shivers have broken out along the column of your spine, but you wrap your frigid arms around yourself in protest.

“I’m not going back in there.” Not like this.

“Idiot,” he snaps softly. “Look at you. You’re gonna die for real if you stay out here.” He tightens his jaw and slams the empty glass down on the windowsill. Then he looks at you with all the lights of the night blazing in his crimson stare.

“Let me take you somewhere quiet. No one’s gonna see.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and he reaches carefully for your arm. “I promise.”

Even with a breaking heart, you’re a fucking sucker for him. Your voice is teary and pathetic but pinched by cold.

“Fine.”

He slips an arm around your shoulders—making your chest lurch—and you duck back inside. Immediately he takes you to the wall, putting himself between you and the rest of the party. With the breadth of his chest he shields you from prying eyes that grow drunker by the minute.

You skirt the edge of the party, making it to the stairwell door on the opposite wall. Somebody by the bar looks up just in time to see Bakugou tugging fiercely down on the handle, but you slip onto the fluorescent-lit landing and the silver door falls shut behind you without consequence.

You’re turning around to grab for the door that isn’t closing fast enough as he slips through it, colliding gently with his chest. Bakugou grabs your wrists to stop you, and for an instant you’re nose-to-nose, smelling him and the whiskey on his breath and the faint odour of paint that never quite faded from the concrete walls.

If not for the tears leaving streaks in your makeup, you might let yourself believe he’s lingering in front of you on purpose.

You pull from his grip and turn back toward the stairs before either of you have the chance to imagine more.

Your office is at the end of the hall on the next floor down. It’s a corner office studded with windows, far too lovely for someone who spends as much time in the field as you do. But you’d worked hard to make it a personable space, with plants and artwork and a couple of very comfortable guest chairs in emerald velvet.

Katsuki rolls his eyes every time he has to wave off the odour of your favourite scented candle, but you’ve caught him admiring what you’ve done with his office, too.

Now, the space is too tidy for either of your tastes, a little dusty from so many months of neglect. You’ve been out of commission for six months, and nursing a heartbreak far too immense to allow any casual visits to the agency.

He closes the door behind the both of you. Locks it, just in case. You’re already pacing across the rug and perching on the edge of the desk, gratefully taking some of the weight off your aching feet.

He keeps his back to you for a long moment, fingers lingering on the brass doorknob. His shoulders bob with a deep, harrowing sigh.

“You were dying.”

He turns around, and in the quiet dark of your office his eyes are lit up with a deeper fear than you’ve ever seen in him. He comes toward you and sits in one of your squishy little chairs, steepling his fingers and settling his elbows on his knees.

“You don’t–” he shakes his head and lowers it, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. “You don’t understand. You weren’t making any sense.”

“I was,” you bite back, gripping at the edge of your desk. “I meant everything I said to you, Katsuki; I remember every word.”

He flinches. He looks so sorry it’s starting to genuinely scare you.

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything—”

“That’s not it,” he demands, straightening. “You didn’t. I did.” He slapped a hand against his chest, the dull thud reverberating through your own heart.

“You said those things and I didn’t believe you. They couldn’t have been true. Not when I’d spent so much fucking time wishing they could be. I couldn’t tell myself you felt that way about me. I couldn’t hope. Not when I’d come so fucking close to losing you so easily, I—”

His voice breaks and he looks away, and you might be crazy but his chin gives a telltale little shake like he’s holding back tears.

“So you thought it would be easier to what? Fucking ghost me like a bad Tinder date?”

That hurts more than it should. You’ve seen Bakugou at his very worst, bleeding and soot-streaked and showing you feelings he never means to. For a very brief period in your lives, you believed yourself to be special.

“Don’t play the innocent,” he snarls. “You never talked to me, either. I had to find out from my fucking manager that you were outta the hospital.”

“So you never thought to drop by? Bring some fucking… flowers?” You can feel the venom filling your mouth and you’re not altogether certain you’re strong enough to swallow it this time.

“And tell you what? That I was in love with you and, maybe I heard you wrong, but you said something while you were dying in my fuckin’ arms and I was hoping for some goddamned clarification?”

“Yes!” You sob, the word ripping itself from your chest and landing wet and heavy on the floor between you. “That! Anything would have been better than radio fucking silence. Katsuki, I was sure you hated me.”

“Well I fucking love you, okay?” He rises from his chair, taking one step forward. It lands him almost right between your thighs and you hate how close he is, but you have no power to pull away. He cups your jaw in strong, gentle fingers, forcing your eyes to his.

“I fucked up,” he presses. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours and this time his proximity is on purpose. You drink it down in eager gulps.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. Despite your tears and the ache in your heart, you give a wet little laugh and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I missed you, too.”

He takes your hands and pulls them both to his chest. And for a long moment you just sit there, curled over one another in the dark and growing accustomed to the idea of being okay again.

“Did you just…” you start after a long moment of silence. His eyelashes flutter against your cheek as he tucks his cheek against yours, but the grin that pulls your mouth is enough for him to stand back and look at you.

“Did you just admit to making a mistake?”

You’re laughing at your own joke before Katsuki can even roll his eyes. But he’s scowling good-naturedly and tugging himself against you by the hips.

“C’mere, you brat.”

He’s leaning in to close the distance between you when muffled chanting from upstairs makes you pause. You tilt an ear toward the window and light up, easily recognizing the five, four, three, two, one as the magnitude builds.

Bright flashes of gold and red light up the sky outside your window in a brilliant display. And all at once the lingering ache drains from your chest and you shoot Katsuki a fond little smile.

“I guess it’s midnight.”

“We missed the fireworks,” he notes, nodding toward the window as he edges back toward you.

“Not really,” you confess, and the first real big smile breaks through the pain when he steps up between your knees again, nice and tight and deliberate.

He cups your jaw in one hand again, settling the other palm on your knee, where it peeks through the golden slip of your dress.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, eyes falling shut. You hear the way he smiles, that bare little chuckle that used to make your heart light up like stars.

He leans in and kisses you without another word. It’s soft but firm and so loving, so much better than any brush of the hand or lingering glance. Better, even, than the way he danced you into a stupor upstairs. This is yours and nobody else’s.

And you’re not letting him go anytime soon.

You let the kiss deepen as naturally as you can, dropping your jaw and letting the bare press of his tongue roll against your teeth. You reach up and grab his jacket by its lapels, hitching him even closer as the fireworks die out behind you.

He’s not backing down, either. Katsuki draws his hands from your body to unbutton his jacket, shrugging it away easily without breaking the kiss. He’s pressing his mouth to yours in long, lingering spells, tasting you eagerly while his hands have to stay busy. But as soon as he can he’s touching you again, teasing his fingers under the slit of your dress and brushing them over your bare thighs.

“Katsuki…” you whine into his mouth, turning your head to gasp and fill your empty lungs. He finds the next bare patch of skin, kissing down the side of your jaw. He finds your earring where it lays against your tender neck, sucking the crystal into his mouth and giving it a gentle tug.

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he grins into your skin.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had enough already.”

“Not a chance,” you growl. There are millions of questions flooding your subconscious. But years of tension and desire spiral more fiercely between you. It’s energy that demands release. And you don’t want to wait another second.

“God,” he groans hard, collapsing gently into you. As he presses forward against you, the twitching swell of his erection pushes into your bare thigh. You slide your palms down the meat of his chest and find his mouth again, kissing him with searing intent.

“Look at you,” he rasps into your mouth, gripping hard at the weighty skirt of your beaded gown. “You’re a goddamned vision in this, you know that?”

You pull back to look at him, raw sexual energy briefly dispersed by his tender confession. For a long moment you sit there, panting at each other, remembering how much this is about to mean.

Fuck it. If he’s in, so are you.

“Help me get it off.”

You slide to your feet, pushing him back a couple of steps to accommodate you. As soon as you turn around he’s sliding a palm up your side, thumbing at the fabric to find its zipper.

“God damn,” he growls, leaning in to kiss a path down the column of your spine. He drops to one knee as he works the zipper down the back of the dress—sitting low, thanks to its open back—letting his mouth trail all the way to the waistband of your underwear. All the while, you brace a palm on the edge of your desk, trying your best not to implode.

This is more attention than you ever could have prayed for.

He peels the thin straps down your arms and shoves the whole mess to your feet. You’re bending down to unbuckle the straps on your heels, but he stops you with a hand on the back of your thigh.

“Leave ‘em on.”

His voice sends a sharp pang of arousal through your entire body. When he stands, trailing his fingers all the way up the back of your naked thigh and over the swell of your ass, the arousal disperses into a dull ache that settles in the pit of your stomach and throbs incessantly.

He digs his fingers into the flesh of your hip and turns you to face him. Your nipples are already peaking in the chill of your office, and he sucks a deep breath through his teeth as he slides his palms up your tummy.

There’s puckered scar tissue and new ridges on your abdomen, but there’s no pain when he traces brushes over them.

He pauses, looking down with dull shock tugging his brow. You’re holding your breath again, watching him circle the roughest part of your new scars with one tender thumb.

“It’s okay,” you plead, cupping his cheeks and forcing his eyes back to yours. There’s pain littering his gaze that you’re determined to dissolve, and you lean in to kiss him until he’s groaning into your mouth and drawing his hands toward your chest.

“God,” you breathe, goosebumps betraying you as they race beneath his fingers. Katsuki watches your face as he dips his head, pushing your breasts together and laying kisses between them.

“Please,” you whimper, reaching forward and settling a hand over the front of his pants. You palm the shape of his cock through the pressed wool and he flinches, biting gently into your tender flesh.

“Katsuki,” you pant, squeezing and rubbing the hard swell in a gentle, heady rhythm as you set your ass on the edge of your desk again. “I need you.”

“Jesus,” he curses, dropping his hands and reaching desperately for his tie. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me before I even get my cock out, sweetness.”

It’s the dirtiest thing he’s ever said to you. And it shows. You’re a shivering, lustblown mess already, but the petname that falls from his lips is enough to make you whimper.

He shrugs out of his shirt and pushes you further onto the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you and pushing your thighs apart with strong fingers.

“Always kinda wanted to do this in here,” he confesses with that cocky smirk that’s always made a hummingbird out of your heart.

But Katsuki doesn’t give you too much time to swoon over his pretty words, kissing a path up the inside of one plush thigh and nipping at your sensitive flesh. He helps you brace your heels against the rug and lift your hips, peeling your underwear off and rucking it down your knees. There’s something very naughty about the way it feels to settle your bare ass on your polished desk.

But there’s something even naughtier about the way it feels to have Katsuki on his knees in front of you.

He pushes your thighs apart again, harsher this time, and settles your knees over his shoulders. You’d like to ride the wave of self-consciousness that threatens to crest when his breath ghosts over the folds of your heated sex.

He pushes higher for a moment, taking your sides in his hands and drawing lovely little kisses down the rough length of your scar. You push self-consciously at his head, making him pull pack and settle a hand over the flesh instead. He tilts his chin up, shooting you a look so filled with guilt and sorrow it nearly shatters the moment.

He wasn’t there for the pain. And as he kisses back down to your hips and thighs, you let yourself hope that this will be enough to make up for it on both sides.

But then he leans in and licks a long stripe up your cunt and the groan that echoes from his chest makes it hard to do anything but cum on the spot.

“Fuck,” you sigh wantonly, letting your head fall back as you brace your palms on the wood behind you. Your fingertips dig into the surface and he settles into an easy rhythm, slipping his arms under your thighs and tugging you tight to his face.

He’s not shy with his voice, either, grunting and sighing into your pussy with every stroke of his tongue. The noises double your pleasure almost immediately, coupled with the obscene slurps that vibrate all the way up your spine.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to find that tender little spot, the perfect direction from which to swirl his tongue against your clit. It’s obvious in the way your legs go tight around the sides of his head, the way you shiver and cry and clap a hand to the back of his head.

He grunts hard into your body when your fingers rake through his hair, harder still when your tense thighs press the narrow points of your heels into the flesh of his back.

“Katsu,” you whimper, already fucked out and tender like you’ve never been for him, “I’m gonna cum. Fucking shit, I-I’m gonna…”

He takes your warning like a hit, leaning more fiercely into you, keeping his rhythm with intense precision. Later, you’ll try not to think about why he’s so good at this. But right now, all you can think about is the way your pleasure rears up and crashes over you, sending loud gasps and breathy mewls of ecstasy from your chest as you squeeze his head and pull his hair and roll your hips shakily into his persistent mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarls, sitting back on his haunches and swiping a palm over his flushed lips. He looks up at you, rubbing your thigh with one free hand as you come down panting from your ecstatic high. Between his legs, his cock juts obscenely down one thigh of his suit pants, and he palms himself shamelessly as he gets to his feet, taking in every inch of your pleasure-soaked self.

“You’re gonna make me cream my fuckin’ pants someday,” he chides, fumbling with his belt and impatiently shucking his pants. His undershorts follow closely, and you’re barely on your feet again before he takes you by the shoulders and turns your back to him.

“C’mere.” He slides a hand under one of your thighs, hitching it gently onto the edge of your desk and coming up tightly behind you. The brush of his knuckle against your ass proves that he’s stroking himself, and the tip of his stiff cock leaves a little print of wet precum on the back of your leg.

“Please,” you moan, still hazy and shaken from your first orgasm. Still endlessly needy, though, when Katsuki’s involved. “God, baby, just fuck me already.”

“Fuckin’ hell, you can’t say shit like that,” he groans, twitching behind you. “It’s like you don’t know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

He braces a hand on your bare hip and then you feel it, the tip of his drooling cock pressing up between your slippery folds. It’s enough to make you whine and arch your back, wiggling your hips impatiently against his.

It’s enough to make Katsuki lose it.

“Shit,” he growls, gripping the fat of your hip and pushing forward, sliding home with one smooth thrust. He bottoms out inside you right away, buried perfectly in your belly and making you feel every inch.

“Baby—” you start to breathe, but he doesn’t waste time. Katsuki reaches around and lays his palm flat on your sternum, pulling you back against him. He keeps his other hand braced on your hip for leverage, dropping his mouth to the crook of your shoulder while he starts to thrust.

All you can do is keep your knee planted on the edge of your desk and try not to scream as he fucks you in steady, long thrusts, lapping and sucking all along the side of your neck while his hand roams over your chest and thumbs your nipple. Whatever hairstyle you’d left the house with has come long undone by now and you’re sure that if your makeup wasn’t smudged before, it’s certainly not going to survive the drool and sweat and heat that he’s forcing through you with every push of his hips.

The slap of his body against yours fills the space, punctuated only by your harsh pants and quiet whines of pleasure. Katsuki’s fingers dig harshly into your hip, gripping you tighter each time he anchors himself back into your fluttering cunt. Your walls are clamping ruthlessly around him, but he doesn’t miss a beat, slipping that free palm away from your nipples and down your belly to strum rhythmically at the swell of your stiff clit.

“I love you,” he grunts breathlessly behind you, and the raw truth behind it brings a rush of warmth to your chest you can’t ignore. You turn your head sharply towards him, pushing your forehead to his and feeling every beat as his breathing becomes laboured.

His body’s growing tight behind yours, his thrusts losing some of their impeccable rhythm as his brow knits against yours. He’s concentrating hard—holding back, you realize—and you reach down to cover his hand that braces your hip, giving it a relenting squeeze.

“Baby,” you plead. “Let go for me, baby, I can feel it.”

“God,” he mutters. “No—fuck, gonna make you—with me, sweetness.” Your body is clenching in preparation for your own climax already, and the fact that he can even pick up on it shouldn’t surprise you.

“I’m there,” you promise. “I’m there, Katsuki, fuck, just cum for me. Please.”

His arms tighten around you, seizing you hard against his heaving chest. You lean forward and seal your mouth against his, kissing him as he loses control and cums with a shout that echoes at the back of your throat.

He grabs your ass in one hand and fucks madly into you, spurting warm handfuls of cum into your belly and biting down hard on your lower lip. The erratic twitch of his fingers on your still-aching clit and the warm release inside you is enough to bring you to another tight, simpering little peak—not as powerful as the first one, but just as significant.

He stays behind you for a long moment, pinning you to the desk while he goes soft inside you. Finally he peppers kisses down the back of one shoulder and steps away from you, already smoothing his hair and taking in the image of you, in nothing but your heels, dripping with his cum.

The first of many, you let yourself hope, as you turn to carefully face him.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” you quip, reaching for your discarded panties. Navigating the strappy thing seems a great deal more complicated now that it’s not Katsuki tearing them off you.

He smirks at you in a way that does not make it easier to concentrate on the task at hand. Especially since he’s watching you struggle, easily buttoning himself into his now-creased shirt.

“I didn’t miss a thing.”  

He’s already half-clothed by the time you get your underwear on again, stooping to collect your delicate dress from the floor and thumbing the sequins that pepper its surface. His smirk has dissolved into another pensive look as he examines the cloth.

“If I’d known,” he tells you, pressing the scratchy fabric into your hands, “I never would’ve—”

You lean up and push your mouth to his, soft and loving and just enough to silence him.

“I know.”

Once Katsuki’s got the rest of his clothes on, he helps you carefully into your dress and gets behind you one more time to help you zip it. He can’t stop kissing you even for a minute, peppering his lips over your back, neck, arms. He turns you around and takes your hands, kissing the backs of each palm with devotion that, if you stop and think about it, you’ve seen in his eyes a thousand times before.

“You’ll make it up to me,” you promise good naturedly, letting him slide his arms around your waist. He looks at you again, diligent and honest.

“I will.”

“Good.”

You slide your hands up his sleeves of heart-stealing midnight blue, smiling so big it ought to hurt. You tilt your head toward the door, giving your chin a little jerk as you squeeze his biceps through the pressed wool.

“For a start,” you say, daring to lean a little closer while he’s still feeling tender, “how about another dance?”

[inactiive]

HI CAB YOU DO MORE SUB!RON WITH READER THAT HAS AN INNOCENT / CORRUPTION KINK PLEASE? PLEASEE??!!&2&&@3@

ron weasley x reader

summary: you take ron’s virginity.

warnings: innocence/corruption kink, sub!ron, dom!reader, sex, message me if i need to add anything else!

author’s note: i’m so sorry this took so long love! but, i’m finished up with exams so expect me to be posting more xx

“happy birthday ronnie!” you exclaimed to your boyfriend and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. the crowd of people around him made heat explore his cheeks. 

today was ron weasley’s 18th birthday and you more than excited. you wanted nothing more than to celebrate the beautiful man in front of you. currently, you were serving cake to everyone in the gryffindor common room while they enjoyed ron’s surprise party. 

after hours of dancing and eating more cake than you could ever imagine, you were found lazily kissing ron in his dorm room. you practically begged his dorm mates to stay out for at least a couple hours. of course, it costed you a few galleons. maybe more. 

your lips started trailing down his neck and you felt his skin grow warmer. you brushed your lips against the sensitive just beneath his ear. ron’s breathing started to become more apparent. “can i stay the night? if you want me to.”

he pulled away from you instantly, with wide eyes. you though it was quite adorable, actually. “you want to stay with me? and sleep with me in my bed?” he whispered.

you hummed. “i didn’t mean it like that, ron. i meant just, you know, sleeping.” you paused, before continuing. “i don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to, you know that, right?”

you knew ron was a virgin. and you weren’t implying that you wanted to have sex with him. but, if he wanted to you would be nothing but happy to comply. he shook his head at your response. “no! i would love for you to stay the night. but, we don’t have to just..” he paused and looked away. “..just sleep.”

“are you saying-” you started.

“yes, merlin, i want to have s-sex with you.” ron quickly replied. 

“you can trust me alright, sweetheart? i promise i’ll go slow with you.” you said to him softly. he kissed you once more before releasing a plethora of i love yous.

you stood at the front of the bed, while letting your dress fall off of your body. you were left with your lace bra and knickers. ron let his eyes gaze down to your chest and eventually to the cloth hiding your cunt. his hand slowly reached out to yours, and you guided to cup your breast. you gently reached down to his tie, and. fumbled while trying to remove it. once his he was stripped down to nothing but his boxers, you couldn’t help but stare. 

cheeks flushed and hair all wild, splayed out on his bed. how could i get this bloody lucky? you thought to yourself. after another reassurance from ron, your hands slipped on the ends of his boxers and you slid them down his thighs. his cock sprung up and shit. he was big. debating on whether you should prep yourself before, you decided not to. although, you would resent yourself for making that decision tomorrow morning. 

you stripped down until you were naked and straddled his waist. as you aligned your cunt with his cock and slowly slid down. simultaneously, you both gasped and he grabbed onto your waist. ron groaned loudly “oh fuck-” you felt utter bliss as he was buried deep inside of you. 

“k-keep going, please.” you followed his request and lifted yourself up once more, sinking back down onto him. eventually, your speed increased, but it wasn’t enough for ron. feeling your walls wrapped around you made him want more. he needed more.

“faster, y/n, oh godric- please.” he pleaded again and who were you to deny him? with his hips tilted, you thrusted down into you with more force. ron’s hips were snapping into yours and sparks of pleasure flowed throughout his body. every time you moved, he was induced with a state of euphoria. dropping towards his chest, you nipped on his collarbone while grinding up and down. 

for a brief moment, you two shared eye contact with each other. his eyes were fogged with lust and love all at the same time. his moans came out in small pants and he couldn’t refrain himself from vocalizing how good he felt. 

when you felt him twitch inside of you, you knew he was almost there. “are you close, baby?” he nodded while trying to thrust up into you. 

you guided his hand to press a thumb onto your clit, making you throw your head back. it was almost too much for you. the sensation of ron inside of you and the pressure on your clit was taking you to the edge. for a moment, ron’s insides were locked tight, before breaking apart. he swore loudly before his eyes shut tightly and he moaned your name. his cum spilled inside of you and mixed with yours after you thrusted once more. he was sobbing your name as he felt an orgasm rush through him. 

you floated back down to earth, trying to relax your muscles. you looked down at ron who seemed too lost in his own world. you lowered your chest to his and kissed his forehead. “anyone home?”

sheepishly, he smiled back up at you and guided you off of him. quietly, you whimpered at the loss of him. “are you alright, ron?”

“i’m more than okay- blimely- stay the night with me, please?”

you snorted. “what made you think i was going to leave right after.” you cupped his cheek in your hands.

“i’m in for the long run ronnie. you’re never getting rid of me.”

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[bigbrainblue]

19th birthday

It was late.

you don’t know how late, but late enough that you hadn’t heard a car pass in well over 20 minutes, the only light around was from the distance street lamps and the reflection of the moon on the ocean that stood before you. the only sound coming from the crickets in the hills, occasional wave crashing, and your own shallow breath. 

currently you were sat on a beach. alone.

it was your birthday, you had come to the beach from your birthday party. a party to celebrate the day you were born 19 years ago. 

the party was fine, but there sure as hell were a lot of people, way more than you would have liked

you knew people there, sure, but a good portion of the party was people you've never even heard of, just coming for a party and the booze. 

you had arrived with your friends, a lot of them actually, you had just managed to lose them all one by one slowly as the night grew longer and as your vison started to blur.

the people you came with were your friends, Niki, will, toby, tom, clay, George, nick, and Alex. 

you were having fun, drinking, walking around, socializing. but soon it became too much.

the drinking had made you obsess over every thought that came into your head.

you decided to take a break, have some fresh air, and now here you are. on a beach. alone. at night.

one of the thoughts your brain wouldn’t let go was about Alex, the boy you’ve known since junior year of Highschool. you two met when you decided to do a foreign exchange year in Mexico. it just so happened to be that the parents that decided to host you for a school year also were the parents of a teenage boy the same age as you, with straight black hair that stuck to the back of his neck and with freckles scattered around his face. over the next 9 months you guys became best friends, never leaving each others sides.

you didn't know it then, but you had fallen in love with this boy, this amazing beautiful smart caring boy. 

but eventually you had to go home, but you guys never stopped talking.

Alex eventually started posting videos on YouTube, and not long after, streaming on twitch as well.

you watched him gain fame as you supported him at the sidelines, cheering him along the way.

at some point he convinced you to do it too. you spent long nights on calls with him, helping you set up your streams and giving you ideas for new YouTube videos. 

with the help of Alex, you started to gain fame too, even passing him at one point.

through streaming and YouTube, you made so many friends, and yet none of them compared to Alex. 

speaking of Alex, you wondered what he was doing, probably having the time of his life, drinking an hooking up with girls a bajillion times hotter than you

*A/N HI OK IM SORRY IF THAT PART SOUNDED MEAN I PROMISE IT ADDS TO THE STORY OK BYE*

you laughed quietly at yourself thinking about how stupid it was to think that you could pull a guy like Alex.

just then you heard it.

a familiar voice from behind you, “what’s so funny?”

you looked back startled and confused

‘Alex? what are you doing out here?”

“well y/n I could ask the same thing to you, its your party, i noticed you were gone, so I went looking for you. as simple as that”

“i got overwhelmed in there, I'm sorry. i just needed some fresh air”

“ its ok, don't apologize for something you cant control. can I sit?”

“nope” you said sarcastically, hoping he would get the joke

“too bad!” he said, plopping himself right next to you in the sand

you giggled at his humor

neither of you said anything, it wasn't awkward silence, you two had known each other long enough that sometimes, it was nice to just enjoy the company of the other person beside you in silence. 

and yet, suddenly Alex said something.

“have you been crying? there's dried tear streaks along the sides of your face”

you turned your head towards his and whipped the sides of you face, seeing that he was already looking at you, studying you and your facial expression. 

“i guess. if I did, I didn't notice.”

“how did you not notice yourself crying? that sounds like something very noticeable” he said, putting an emphasis on the very,

you laughed, probably harder than you should have.

he smiled, happy to see you happy

“do you wanna talk about it? why you were crying?”

“no, well, not here at least-” you said gesturing your hands at the ocean 

“plus, there's sand getting in my ass” you added on to your previous sentence

Alex laughed and agreed, standing up and brushing off hi pants, and then handing out a hand for you to grab as he pulled you up.

you also brushed yourself off, and you weren't lying, cause man was there a lot of sand in your ass.

he started walking away from you and as you caught up with him you asked,

“where are we going?”

“you’ll see, its a great place, I promise you will love it” 

you followed Alex to his car as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“how romantic” you commented as you climbed into his car. poking fun at him

as he got into the car he plugged his phone into the aux cord, playing a song you had heard a couple times, but would have never expected for Alex to listen to it, it just didn't seem like the type of music he would like.

he set his phone down face up as the screen flashed up at you as he put the car into gear and pulled out into the street

you saw the title of the song he was playing, “Falling For U” by Peachy ft Mxmtoon, and his wallpaper, a photo of you two from junior year. both standing next to each other awkwardly as his mom made you guys take a photo together on the first day you got there. you wondered how long it had been his wallpaper for. 

you laughed and asked him about his wallpaper

“i mean you gotta admit, we look extremely sexy in that photo. especially me”

this comment from Alex made you break out laughing, even harder than before, as he started to hum along with the lyrics of the song. joined with him actually saying a line out loud every once in a while

it was a peaceful drive, Alex played more lofi songs as you stared out the widow.

eventually he pulled the car into an empty parking lot of a small gas station 

“is this the place?” you questioned 

“nope, just a pit stop.” he said

you both went inside, grabbing snacks and drinks and piling them into the back of the car. Alex making you wait to open them until you two got to your final destination

 eventually, the car rolled into a another small empty parking lot, except this one was made of dirt and was a lot higher up.

Alex had pulled the car to the edge of the parking lot, as you finally got to see why he brought you here,

you looked through the windshield to find a view of the entire city. 

you gasped in awe as you looked towards Alex, who, again, was already looking at you.

this time he wasn't studying you, he was admiring you.

you blushed, but pushed it off.

you and him both got out of the car so you guys could grab the snacks and the blankets he had in the back of his car.

he hopped onto the hood of his car and you joined him.

-

you starred into the sky full of stars above you. 

you gasped as you pointed out a shooting star passing over head 

“what did you wish for, Alex?”

“i cant tell you or else it wont come true”

“well then couldn't you wish the opposite of what you want to come true and then tell someone so the opposite comes true?”

“you're so stupid-” he said jokingly as he laughed.

“so, do you want to talk about why you were crying earlier, or is this still not the right spot” Alex chuckled at his own joke

“yes but, I have a question first”

Alex hummed in response, curious of what the question could be

“do you believe in love at first sight?”

you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't divert your eyes from the stars above.

“do you remember the first time that we met? at the airport when my mom forced us to hug and take that god awful photo together, and when we ended up playing tictactoe in the car for an hour while we drove to my house?”

“yes? of course i do, that was simultaneously the worst and best day of my life. but that doesn't answer my question dumbass” you said, still not giving into his gaze onto side of your head.

“I think I just did, did I not?” 

it finally clicked, him looking for you at the party, the song in the car, the story

you turned your head to meet his gaze, finally giving in

he sat up and dramatically grabbed his chest, pretending to have been stabbed in the heart, enacting a theatrical performance

“y/n m/n l/m, i am dying, and you must know, that I am in LOVE with you!” he dramatically gasped and fall back down., pretending to be dead. 

you played along as you gasped and put the pack of your hand on your forehead as you spoke

“oh my dear Alex, I love you too, and now you will never get to know how much i loved you” you faked sobbed onto his chest

“maybe a true loves kiss will help save him” he whispered, making the scene even funnier and causing both of you to bust out laughing

“ah yes, the only way to save my prince, a true loves KISS!” you said before coming down and kissing Alex on the lips. 

he sat up with a loud gasp

“I am alive! a kiss of true love saved me!” you giggled beside him as you watched him play out his Oscar-winning performance

“may I kiss you again m’lady? for saving my life of course.” he questioned

“of course, you can kiss me anytime m’lady” you said back, pulling him into a deeper kiss

he pulled way first before speaking

“WAIT DID YOU JUST CALL ME M’LADY?

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

[parkers-gal]

why pt. ii T.H.

wc: 1.7k

when you’re never truly over them

Tom had left for the press tour. After staying up all night crying and sobbing to the point of almost growing sick, he had left. He should've texted you, should've ran after you the minute you slammed the door on his face. 

To be honest, you weren't as heartbroken as you thought you would've been. The events leading up to this 'break-up' had pretty much prepared you for the worst. It was only a matter of time before the tension broke and somebody exploded; you had expected it, but you hadn't expected to break up with him. You also didn't expect him to actually leave for the press tour, but Tom was full of surprises. 

Now, in May, you were beginning to pack up your belongings into boxes. Tom hadn't made it easy though, because it was your house too. Everything you owned was a constant reminder of the person you used to be: happy and carefree, vulnerable and raw. Tom had destroyed that person, and all for a  few week's worth of partying with a jerk he knew from school. 

Each time you grew sad, you thought about everything that went wrong, and anger bubbled within you. You were stuck in this loop, lost on where to go next.

[Your Best friend] was helping you through the entire thing. And while she was completely supportive of your decision to move out, she also knew that you'd be better off with Tom. You had never been happier in your entire lifetime, and she knew your stubborn demeanor would only cause more destruction. 

She had called Tom the moment you stepped back into that house with a box. He picked up on the second ring, slightly confused as to why she would call him. 

"Hello?"

"Thomas," [your best friend] deadpanned. 

"What- uh.. what's up?"

"You need to keep fighting."

"Fighting?" Tom repeated, confusion lacing his voice.

"Fighting for you and Y/N," she had replied. "You can't give up, not now, after everything you've been through. You can't tell me it's not worth the effort."

Tom was silent for a minute. Not because he thought she was wrong, but because he wasn't sure how he could keep fighting when it seemed as though you had already given up. 

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Tom, you can't solve this problem from across the world. You need to be here, with her, for her." 

"She doesn't want me." 

"That's not true, and you know it. Cut the bullshit or you won't ever get her back." And with that, [your best friend] had hung up. 

Harrison was also supportive of the idea of getting you two back together; Tom was more of a mess than he would admit. He was knee deep in his own sorrow and pity. It seemed as though there was no motivation when you weren't there supporting him. 

While you weren't together, that didn't mean you stopped supporting him. Tom was an important part of your life, and you could never stop loving him. Despite what you said that night, you could never truly stop your affection for the brown-eyed-boy. 

"Y/N," [your best friend] spoke. It was week two of the move, and she was watching you pack. "C'mon, stop."

"What?" You replied, somewhat bitterly. 

"I know you don't want to leave this."

"This?" you said, hand gestures motioning to the room around you. "What is 'this'?" 

"This life, these people," she replied. "You still love hi-"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because the front door had just closed. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because neither Tom nor Harrison were due back for months; they were the only other people who had a key to the house. 

You were out of the bedroom in seconds, jogging down the stairs as [your best friend] followed you. When you reached the bottom, you froze, your jaw lightly open as you stared at who had just arrived. 

It was Tom, clad in grey sweats and a black tee shirt. Harrison was behind him, setting the luggage near the coat hanger as he looked to [your best friend], both of them simultaneously leaving the room. 

"Y/N," Tom had said after a few moments of silence.

You didn't reply, only looking up to his eyes before crossing your arms and looking at your feet shyly. Memories of a similar encounter had just flooded through your mind. Your first date, the first time you slept together, all of it similar in a fashion of shyness and awkwardness, but never tension. 

"I didn't think you'd actually move out." 

At this, you glanced up. "What else was I supposed to do? Stay here until you came back?"

He looked at you as if you were supposed to know the answer; know what he wanted, and you did.

"God, Tom. I don't need you, you know? I'm not completely, 100 percent dependent on you. I'm not a baby, and you can't honestly expect me to come running to you whenever I need help." 

"I never said you needed me," Tom defended.

"You didn't have to say it. We both knew it." 

"Bullshit, Y/N."

"Bullshit?" You interrupted.

"I've never once thought that." 

"Bullshit!" You repeated. 

"C'mon, you can't honestly say that I've thought of you that way," he said, his hand moving in a gesture. 

"Really?" You laughed sarcastically. 

"What?" Tom spoke harshly. "Is that hard to believe? I know you aren't dependent on anyone else, Y/N. Don't try to twist this." 

Your eyes were wide as you took in his words, more frustration bubbling up inside you. "Twist this?" You motioned between the two of you before your hands went up in defeat. "I didn't twist anything! I'm just trying to expose what you fucked up!" 

"What 'I fucked up'?" Tom repeated, his eyes rolling in disbelief. "There are two people in this relationship!"

"A relationship that failed because of one person!" You screamed finally. 

"And you're suggesting that was me?"

"Well it's not like I did anything!" You argued. "I broke this off because you were doing more harm then good!"

"It was just a phase!" Tom debated. 

"Being an asshole isn't a phase," You spat out. "It's developed, and you were with just the right people for it to show." 

"You're calling me a secretive asshole, now?" 

"Your words, Tom! Not mine," You yelled. "Did I fucking say that? Ever? I said you were an asshole!"

"Yeah, but you implied that I've always been an asshole!" 

"You shouldn't have been an asshole in the first place!" You replied, walking away from the front door and heading into the living room to fill the box that was sat near the couch. Tom followed in suit, wondering where Harrison and [your best friend] had gone, because he knew the yelling wasn't over, and it would echo throughout the house, regardless of where they were hiding. 

"Honestly, Tom," you started. "Did you only come back to start another argument?"

His face was deep in confusion, his eyes rolling once again. "I came back to fix us." 

" 'Us,' Tom? I've already told you: there is no us." 

"You know that's not true." 

At this, you were silent. A part of you longed to be back in his arms, but the sensible part of you knew he royally fucked up, and mending things between you two wouldn't be this easy. 

"Then what're you gonna do?" You asked after a moment. "Keep arguing? Keep screwing up?" You looked him in the eye with a harsh stare. "Or are you gonna grow up and take responsibility? 'M not your girl anymore." 

As your sentence ended, your voice grew quieter, the truth finally exposed. Both of you were varieties of broken and vulnerable, frustration and anger threatening to spill out in the form of endless salty tears. Both of you were slightly panting, breathing noises being the only contribution to noise in the entire house. 

Tom was a few feet away from you, his curls disheveled from when he was previously running his hands through them. When your last sentence finished, something in his eyes had snapped, and he was moving forward and closer to you, alarmingly fast.

And then, he was kissing you. Each of his hands were holding your face. He was slightly shaking, and that was when you realized he was crying. The kiss was deep and passionate and overwhelmingly emotional. He tasted just how you remembered: like cinnamon. His lips were warm and soft and enveloping, and the minute he made contact, you had melted into his touch. Tom was your greatest weakness, though you wish he didn't have such an affect on you. Tom had a soft spot for you and you only, and it never failed to swoon you and win you over. 

The kiss seemed to last for hours, and you weren't complaining. You had missed this. When it ended, Tom was still holding your face as your foreheads touched. Both of you were breathing even harder, but your arms  were around his neck now. He held you tight and lovingly, almost as if you would slip right through his fingers and out of his grasp like you had a few weeks ago. He was lightly sniffling, but the tears had stopped falling.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of Tom. You were almost nostalgic, and the idea of being his was what brought you out of your daze. 

Tom was staring at you now, looking down into your eyes and taking in your beauty. He didn't know how he could be so stupid and clumsy when it came to your love, and he promised himself he wouldn't ever make that mistake again. You were a powerful woman who knew what she deserved, and what Tom gave you wasn't it. You deserved love and affection and care and intimacy and warmth and commitment, things Tom was certain would come in the future.

After a considerably long moment of silence, Tom spoke. His voice was rough and raspy and deep, and he was whispering. His lips were barely touching yours; just ghosting over them, anticipation for what was to come next: words or action. For you, words came first. "I'm still in love with you." 

And then he kissed you again. 

[rocorambles]

Fool

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Rape/Non-con, Manipulation, Degradation

Summary: Your body might be the most spotless and pristine it’s ever been, but you’ve never felt more disgusting, more filthy in your entire life. 

Requested by Anon

Sakusa quietly walks besides Komori and you while the two of you giddily chatter about one thing or another. He honestly could care less about his cousin and his new friend. He has more important things to worry about. Volleyball, nationals, school, staying healthy and clean. Who cares about a random girl his cousin started talking to? But then you slowly become a permanent fixture in their group. The three of you walk to and from high school together every day. You all study together, exchanging notes and information. You simultaneously bite into store bought onigiris after school.  

At first he talks to you out of sheer politeness, accepting the fact that he might as well make a bit of small talk considering how he’s going to see you every day at this rate. But as time goes on he finds himself actively joining in the conversations, seeking you out at lunch time, and hanging out with you on the weekends. He finds himself looking for your face in between class breaks, nagging you to wear your face mask, and thinking of you even when you aren’t with him. But he doesn’t dwell on it. Volleyball is still the top priority in his life and the three of you graduate from high school as close friends, but nothing more than that. 

It’s hard to keep in close contact during college since the three of you are in different universities. Texts are exchanged once in a while. Sometimes he’ll open his phone and see Komori and you littering the group chat with stupid memes and mindless nonsense. On his birthday he’ll get a phone call from both of you, but that’s the extent of it. Well, that’s the extent of it for him. A sickening feeling coils in his stomach when he opens social media and sees a photo of Komori and you at brunch on a random weekend and he wonders if he might be coming down with something. But the dark feeling lurks and festers in him as he sees more photos of just the two of you out and about shopping together, eating together, partying together. 

Sakusa knows that Komori and you have always been closer than him and you. It’s Komori who’s always been your first choice when you need help with something. It’s Komori who’s the first person you run to when you want to share a funny post you saw. So he shouldn’t be surprised to know that the two of you hang out frequently without him, but that doesn’t stop the green eyed monster from growing bigger and bigger inside of him. It keeps on expanding within him as college continues until all he can think about is you. 

As soon as he wakes up, he turns on his phone and scrolls through your social media feeds. Whenever he has a second of spare time, he finds himself flipping through photos of you. Right before he goes to sleep, he goes through old text messages you’ve sent. He has to stop himself from throwing his phone against the wall in anger whenever Komori’s face beams up at him, far too close to your own smiling face and with an arm slung far too familiarly over your shoulders. The three of you see each other in person a few times a year during college breaks, but it’s not enough and having Komori there only fuels the urgency within him. 

He hasn’t seen you in a while. Now that you’re all working, it’s hard to find the time to get together. You’re only free on weekends, but that’s usually when Komori and he are traveling for volleyball games. But that doesn’t mean you’re not on his mind. Quite the opposite in fact. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all. Sakusa hates jacking himself off. There’s something so primitive and disgusting about the whole thing and he grimaces at the sticky feeling of his pre-cum, but he can’t even keep count of the amount of times he’s waited for Bokuto’s, Atsumu’s, and Hinata’s breaths to even out in their shared hotel rooms before opening up his phone and looking at his favorite saved photos of you while stroking himself off. He recoils in disgust when warm liquid spills across his hand, but when he imagines how pretty you’d look licking it clean for him, it’s suddenly not all that bad. 

It’s one of his very few free weekends and he makes his way to his seat in the audience before settling down and watching Komori and his team warm up before their match. He internally groans when he feels the presence of someone sitting next to him and immediately starts trying to shrink in on himself in order to minimize any contact with the other person. “Sakusa?” His head turns so fast his mask almost flies off when he hears the familiar voice. He can feel his chest tighten when he sees you so close to him and his body instinctively leans closer to you, drawn to the woman he’s been fantasizing about for years. The two of you catch up, but he’s hardly paying attention to the actual words as he watches your lips move, as he watches your hands wave in the air, as he watches your eyes sparkle. He can feel his fingers twitch, desperate to see how soft and warm you’d be in his hold, desperate to touch someone in a way he’s never felt before. He usually abhors the idea of physically touching anyone or anything, but when it’s you, there’s nothing he wants more.

He snaps back to attention when you loudly cheer for Komori and anxiety springs up within him when he realizes they’re almost done with the second set. No, no, no. This wasn’t enough time. He needs more of you. His thoughts spiral as he thinks about how to keep you with him a little longer, but then it clicks when he sees the adoration in your eyes as you attentively watch Komori racing across the court. His eyes darken when he sees the way you look at his cousin and he knows exactly how to get his way. 

“Hey, Komori is going to come over to my place tonight. You’re more than welcome to just hang out with me after the game ends until then. It’ll be nice for all three of us to hang out again. It’s been a while.” 

His jaw clenches at the way a blush of red tints your cheeks when he mentions Komori’s name, but he digs his nails into his thighs as he waits for your response. He knows he has you. Hook. Line. Sinker. And sure enough, you beam at him and excitedly agree. It’s nice to have you alone to himself and if he dreams enough, it almost feels like the two of you are on a date as he walks with you to his place, pleasantly conversing all the way. He can’t help but think you fit perfectly in his apartment. It just looks so right to have you in his home and he hides his smile with the cup of tea in his hands. But time passes far too quickly and he can see the way your leg begins to twitch when you ask him exactly when Komori will be arriving. His grip tightens and he forcefully takes a deep breath before he accidentally breaks his mug and gives you a tight smile, assuring you he’d be here soon. It’s time to finally set his final plan in motion. 

He gets up to refill your cup, but just as his hands draw near you, he drops the entire pot on you, covering your entire shirt and lap with the liquid. He makes a show of panicking as he attempts to wipe you down (relishing in the feeling of your body beneath his hands as he rubs much harder, much longer than he needs to) and he almost smirks at how naive you are as you assure him it’s completely fine. Mistakes happen. He practically shoves you into the bathroom with a fresh towel and some of his clothes as he urges you to get clean and dry before leaving and closing the door behind him. But he doesn’t move an inch after that. He waits right outside the door and he can feel himself getting aroused as he hears the rustling of clothes and you shuffling around. He imagines how you look, completely stripped down and vulnerable. Thank God it’s not going to be just an imagination anymore. 

He waits until he hears the shower begin to run, until he hears you clambering inside, until he hears you sweetly humming to yourself and then he moves faster than he’s ever moved before as he rips the door open and barges in, slamming the door behind him and locking it with a resounding click. You shriek when you see him and you yell at him to get out, but it’s no use and he has you on your knees, your head submerged under the water still cascading down from the showerhead. Your eyes clench shut in an effort to keep the water out as you take panicked gasps of breath through your mouth. It’s so hard to breathe when water is pouring on your face. It’s so hard to think when you’re caught off guard in a situation you’ve never even had nightmares about. You frantically claw at Sakusa’s arm that has a tight hold of your hair, but you instantly stop, instead aiming for the hard object that’s being shoved into your mouth. It’s disgusting and yet vaguely familiar. Kind of similar to when you accidentally get shampoo water in your mouth...Realization dawns on you and you try to spit out the bar of soap lodged in your mouth, but Sakusa’s grip is relentless as he shoves it in and out of your mouth, making sure to scrub it against every inch of your orifice that he can reach. You almost sob in relief when he finally removes it from your mouth, but that turns into pain when he jerks your head back until the shower water is pouring into your mouth and when it’s full, he slaps a hand over your lips and orders you to gurgle before finally shoving your head back down where you gag and heave as you spit the soapy suds out. 

Mouth finally empty, you plead for him to stop, to explain why he’s doing this, but you cringe when he coldly looks down at you and says he’s not done cleaning you yet. You try to shove past him to get out of the enclosed space, get out of his home, but really, what chance do you think you have against a professional athlete, against one of the best volleyball players in the country? It’s embarrassing how easy it is for Sakusa to force you on all fours and you brokenly cry as he lathers his hands with the bar that had just assaulted your mouth before pumping his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, using the flexibility of his wrists to twist and turn, touching places you’ve never been able to reach yourself. Sakusa’s not even trying to provide you with any pleasure, intent on just making sure you’re completely clean before he uses you, but he’s so thorough and persistent with his movements that you can’t help the way your juices begin to leak as his fingers rub against every crevice. 

He pulls his digits out in disgust as he sees the sticky coat you’ve left on them. “You’re such a fucking whore. Do you get turned on just from being cleaned? Do you like being filled that much? Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to give you what you want.” You shake your head in denial as your tears mingle with the water still streaming down on you, but you moan as Sakusa shoves his cock into your dripping cunt. He grips your hips so tightly his hands turn white and you rapidly pant as both of you adjust to being connected so intimately. But there’s only so much patience Sakusa has after lusting after you for years and he starts a punishing pace, pulling all the way out before fully slamming back into you with every thrust. Internally you beg him to stop, beg him for mercy, but the only things that spill from your lips is moan after moan as he fills you so well and you’re almost grateful for the fact that water is still coming down, the sound of drops hitting the shower floor blocking out some of the lewd humiliating sounds echoing in the small room. You feel something hot, something alive crawling from deep within you. It doesn’t feel like a normal orgasm. It seems bigger, more daunting and you clench your teeth and fists, trying to not let it out, but it’s no use and you scream as you erupt. Sakusa scowls when he sees the flood of liquids that pour out of you. What a fucking mess. And yet, you somehow feel even better like this. Sopping wet, quivering walls milking his cock. And that’s all it takes for him to release deep inside of you, letting your pretty hole hold his mess. He glowers down at the disgusting mix of transparent and white liquid that trickles out from you and that sticks to his length when he finally pulls out. 

“Open your mouth.” You obediently follow his order. What use is it to fight now? Now that he’s already used you? He has you suck and lick his softening shaft until every remnant of fluid is gone and you gratefully pull off of him and collapse on the floor, glad that it’s all over. You glare at him, angry tears in your eyes as you spit out scathing insult after insult at him. “How the fuck could you do this to a friend? One of your closest friends? Someone you’ve known for years?” He rolls his eyes as you continue with your pointless rants, but he perks up at your next line. 

“Wait until Komori gets here and I tell him exactly what you did.” 

You falter when Sakusa begins laughing and you stumble back as he suddenly lurches towards you, but there’s nowhere for you to run and you squeal when he grabs the detachable shower head and holds it right above your pussy, still oversensitive and raw. 

“Oh, Komori’s not coming. He doesn’t have time for dirty sluts like you. But maybe after I clean you up again, he’ll think about sparing you a minute.”

You howl as Sakusa once again reaches for the bar of soap and begins harshly rubbing it all over and inside your reddening flesh and you don’t know if it’s fueled by pain, pleasure, anger, or betrayal, but you keep on howling as your rose-tinted dreams of a friendly libero are ripped to shreds by the black haired monster above you. You howl until your voice can’t make any more sounds and then you just lie there under the now cooling water still spraying down on both of you as Sakusa continues. Your body might be the most spotless and pristine it’s ever been (it certainly feels like it is with how rigorously Sakusa scrubs you), but you’ve never felt more disgusting, more filthy in your entire life as he releases load after load inside of you, letting you feel, letting you know how foolish you are for ever thinking you had a chance with his cousin, for ever thinking he’d let you be with anyone other than him. And as the night drags on and on, you can’t help but begin to agree with him. What a fool you are.                 

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 11

WARNINGS: nothing I can think of 🤔

Chapter 11 - Theodora's Confession

“How is everyone? Are you nervous?” Angelina stood up from the bench in the Quidditch tent.

Theodora, Harry, and Katie nodded while Fred and George swung their hand as if it’s just another game.

“I’m nervous too, it’s okay!” Angelina smiled faintly.

That made Theodora feel better because ever since Angelina became captain after Oliver left, she had a feeling nothing could disturb Angelina from her calm composure. Apparently, playing the final game of the year did the trick.

“We might not be playing against Slytherin and we have beaten Hufflepuff plenty of time but for most of us this is the last Quidditch game.” Angelina looked at Katie, Fred, George, and Theodora.

“Harry, you’ll probably be captain next year.” She smiled gently at him but that didn’t make Harry’s nervousness disappear off his face.

“So, I am not going to make this long. We had a lot of practice matches in the past two weeks. It has been an honor to play with all of you. Truly, you are the best team a captain could ask for and I finally understand why Wood was so excited every time to play.” Angelina said with tears in her eyes.

“He was excited to play because all he can think and talk about is Quidditch.” Fred giggled.

“Also that, probably.” Angelina couldn’t fight back a chuckle.

“No matter what happens on that pitch today, know that I am proud of you and wish that we could play together some more.” Angelina took a deep breath, trying to appear strong in front of her team.

“We got this! It’s only Hufflepuff!” Fred threw his hands in the air.

“Are you lot ready to listen to Lee being on our side and thus get glared at by McGonagall one last time?” Angelina extended her arm and the rest put their hands over hers.

“We’re ready!” The whole team shouted.

They all turned their heads when Madam Hooch stepped inside their tent.

“The game is about to begin.” Her golden eyes sparkled with excitement.

Each of the team members took their broom and followed Madam Hooch out of the tent. The second they flew on the pitch, their ears were filled with Lee’s voice.

“Witches and wizards, teachers, heads of house, and Headmaster!” Lee shouted into his microphone. “Today is the last House Cup match of this school year. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff and it’s going to be emotional!” Lee pretended to sob.

“Five members of the Gryffindor team are never going to be seen on this pitch again after today’s game. The same goes for three members of the Hufflepuff team! I bet you are all curious to see who will be taking their place next year!”

“Remember Madam Hooch’s whistle sound, seventh years, as you won’t be able to get to hear this amazing melody again!” Lee heard McGonagall sigh behind him while it sounded like Professor Flitwick was sobbing next to her.

“The game has begun! The Snitch is out, the Quaffle is in Theodora Cork’s hands and the Bludger is already searching for its first victim!” Lee clutched the microphone with excitement.

“And Cork scores! 10 – 0 for Gryffindor. Not really a surprise there! It’s a miracle this girl isn’t considering playing Quidditch professionally.” Lee shook his head.

He understood and supported his favorite Quidditch trio to open their own joke shop but he couldn’t help to think how amazing it would be if they all continued to play Quidditch. Perhaps, he wasn’t ready to let go of his current job as a commentator just yet.

“The game is getting intense and it seems it is not going to end any time soon! Maybe neither of the teams want it to end and we’re all going to be here for days!” Lee said excitedly.

It was now 100 – 70 for Hufflepuff and Harry still couldn’t spot the Snitch. The day was beautiful for their last Quidditch game of the year but the sun shining so brightly also didn’t help him to see where the golden ball could be.

“What’s this now? Did the Hufflepuff Seeker finally spot the Snitch? She is moving rather fast across the pitch. Harry, go check it out!” Lee waved his hand at Harry.

“Mr. Jordan, do I have to remind you to stay neutral for the last time?” Professor McGonagall put her hand on Lee’s shoulder and tried keeping her voice as gentle as possible.

Of course, she couldn’t deny she wanted Gryffindor to win the game but since Lee wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was on the side of his house, she had to step in.

“I apologize, professor, but this is our last game, the last time you are hearing my sweet voice.” Lee made puppy eyes at professor McGonagall who only sighed and sat back down.

She couldn’t hide a small smile painting her face. She knew very well this was their last game and no matter how many years she spent teaching, she always felt sad when another generation left the school.

“Both of the Seekers are now after the Snitch! It’s 100 – 90 for Hufflepuff and whoever gets that Snitch will win the game!” Lee yelled into the microphone more than ever before, now standing up and ready to jump if his house wins.

“Of course, I hope that Gryffindor wins! And Johnson scores! We have a tie!”

“Mr. Jordan, what did I say!” McGonagall leaned toward Lee again and raised her voice.

“My head of house is about to murder me with her stare...but I am simply too excited professor!” Lee forgot to put his hand over the microphone so everyone heard what he said.

Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick started laughing as they found his commentating amusing. Severus Snape, however, pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that the match is going to end soon.

“It seemed that the Chasers have stopped trying! This truly is an unbelievable sight. Both teams are now hovering on their brooms and letting the better Seeker win!” Lee was leaning over the fence of the commentator stand, trying to better see what is going to happen.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The players of both teams just stopped – observing their Seekers – while the Beaters were flying around and trying to keep the Bludger as far away from anyone as possible.

“Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are making history today and to everyone watching this, you should know that you are very lucky to witness such an occurrence!”

Hufflepuff players were waving and smiling at the Gryffindors. The latter were doing the same and laughing at Lee’s commentary.

The Beaters of Hufflepuff’s team were passing the Bludgers to Fred and George, simply having too much fun.

“I think it’s safe to say that the real legend here is Madam Hooch as she isn’t doing anything to stop this game, non-game, whatever you want to call it at this point!” Lee was shaking, now sitting back down.

“Should we do something about this, Minerva?” Professor Sprout said to McGonagall who simply shook her head, her hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

“Potter flew past his opponent and is now flying after the golden ball with his left hand extended!” Lee stood up so abruptly that the microphone almost fell out of his hand.

“And...and Potter caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins 250 – 100! Look at the Hufflepuffs cheering for Potter and congratulating the rest of the team! No doubt they would be happier if they won the game but second place isn’t that bad either!” Lee cheered.

“Only Hufflepuffs can put their ego aside and show how the winners should be treated! Everybody roar for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team!” Lee roared into the microphone and the other stands followed his lead.

Professor Sprout cupped her mouth and cheered for her team then stood up and congratulated professor McGonagall for her team winning.

“This has been a pleasure everyone but sadly, I have to say goodbye. It has been an honor and I hope I didn’t damage your eardrums with all my shouting during the years. Thank you for cheering, for being the best, and thank you Professor McGonagall for not throwing me off the stand! My name is Lee Jordan and it’s time to party!”

McGonagall shook her head behind Lee and wholeheartedly laughed as she couldn’t deny that she will miss Lee’s inappropriate comments.

—

“Lee, mate, your commentary today was spectacular!” Fred hugged his friend over the shoulder.

“I knew McGonagall wouldn’t be able to do anything about it,” Lee chuckled, “if it was up to me, it would be like that every time.”

“It will be, once you have your own radio show.” George nudged him with his shoulder.

“And talk about the game, what in the bloody hell happened!” Lee laughed.

“We honestly don’t know. We were playing normally, Chasers trying to score, Beaters keeping everybody safe, the Keepers looking out for their hoops and then we all simultaneously stopped when we saw the Snitch.” Fred shrugged.

“That little ball was nowhere to be seen for such a long time!” George sighed.

“It was probably due to the sun.” Lee rubbed his chin.

“Yeah and then we all just watched. We had the same amount of points there was no point in playing, really.” Fred said excitedly.

“If you were playing against Slytherins that would not happen.”

“You can say that again, Lee.” George took a sip of his drink.

“George, is that boy hitting on our Theo?” Fred asked his brother while nodding his head to Theodora who was talking and laughing with a fellow Gryffindor on the other side of the common room.

“We’ll celebrate with you later, mate. We have to go and see what’s going on.” George lifted his glass and clanked it against Lee’s.

Lee nodded and kept his eyes on the twins until they reached Theodora. He then turned around, poured himself another glass of punch, and walked to Angelina and Katie.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” George put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“Theo, is this guy bothering you?” Fred asked his best friend.

“We’re just discussing the game, Fred.” Theodora rolled her eyes playfully knowing exactly what was coming.

Whenever Fred and George saw her talk to a boy they didn’t recognize, they went full-on protective mode and tried to get rid of him for her. It usually put her in an awkward position, especially if she fancied the boy.

“You can do that with us and you,” George turned from Theodora to a now annoyed Gryffindor, “can go discuss the game with someone else. She has a boyfriend.”

“What?” Theodora chortled. “I do not.”

“Do you want us to tell Bill you said that?” Fred gasped dramatically.

“Not this again.” Theodora rolled her eyes and crossed her hands on her chest.

“I’m sorry, they just get a bit overly protective but they are harmless.” Theodora tried explaining to the boy.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know you have a boyfriend. I didn’t come to you just to talk about the game.” The Gryffindor’s cheeks turned red.

“Oh.” Theodora put her hand over her mouth surprised by what he said.

“See, we got you covered.” George winked at Theodora the second the boy left.

“I was doing just fine.” Theodora pursed her lips. “We were just talking and you have to stop saying to everyone that I have a boyfriend!”

Theodora didn’t know what to do with her two best friends ever since they found out about her letters to Bill. Even though they promised they were going to stop with the teasing they were both doing a rather poor job and they have been telling everyone willing to listen that she has a boyfriend.

The second they spotted her talking to any boy, even if it was a first-year, they intervened immediately and made them back away. At first, Theodora found it annoying but at this point, it was simply amusing.

She would never admit it to the twins, but she loved how protective of her they were and she couldn’t help but hope that their teasing meant that they would approve if she and Bill ever start anything more than friendship.

“Speaking of you having a boyfriend.” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

“Did this party make you drunk enough to finally tell us how you and Bill started to get all lovey-dovey?” George followed his brother’s lead.

Theodora didn’t have a clue but this was their plan all along ever since they knew they were going to have a party. They might’ve been with Lee for most of the night so far but every time either of them saw that Theodora’s glass was empty they quickly filled it up.

They were hoping to get her drunk enough for her to start talking about Bill. George suggested that they ask Bill about it but they didn’t know if Theodora told him that his brothers knew about their correspondence and with how angry Bill was when they and Charlie locked the pair in the broom closet they quickly changed their mind about asking him.

“First of all, I know what you two are trying to do – getting me drunk to tell you all my secrets,” Theodora giggled, “and second of all, we are not lovey-dovey.”

Theodora knew she would have to tell her two best friends sooner or later. But if she could do anything about it, she would rather it be later. She looked down at her half-empty glass, hoping the twins were not observant enough to see how much just thinking about Bill made her blush.

“Yet.” George made a kissy face. “You’re not lovey-dovey yet.”

“Why do you two care so badly, anyway?” Theodora bit her lip, trying to hide that she was nervous.

“Is it wrong if we want to know what is happening between our eldest brother and our best friend?” Fred sounded offended.

“I told you we are just writing letters to each other.” Theodora defended herself.

“So you will never meet up?” George lifted his eyebrows.

“We might.” Theodora shrugged as if it’s not a big deal.

“A-ha!” Fred pointed his finger at his best friend. “I knew it. Pay up, Georgie.”

George sighed and reached with his hand in his pocket. He took out 3 Galleons and put them into Fred’s revealing palm.

“What is this?” Theodora watched their exchange.

“We made a bet,” George explained.

“You made a bet about what?” Theodora narrowed her eyes.

“George said that you are only going to stick to letters and that Bill will never gather up the courage to ask you out while I had a bit more faith in our brother,” Fred smugged.

“You bet on our relationship?” Theodora slammed a hand against her forehead.

“Your relationship? So you are in a relationship?” George exclaimed.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant!” Theodora buried her face in her hands.

She felt like sitting down so she leaned against the wall and slid down until she felt the floor underneath her bottom. The twins cornered her and she said too much already. She wasn’t lying to them – she didn’t know what she and Bill were and she found it weird to talk to the twins about it because, despite all the sweet things they said to each other, she didn’t know what it would lead to.

“You said what you said, Theo.” Fred sang as he and his brother sat on the floor, one on each side of Theodora.

“C’mon, tell us.” George prodded.

“Fine!” Theodora sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you start sending letters to each other?” Fred asked the first question.

“He sent me a letter and a gift for my birthday,” Theodora answered casually.

“He sent you a gift?” George asked surprised.

“I bet he got her flowers.” Fred giggled.

“How did you know?” Theodora asked with a surprised expression on her face.

“Because Bill’s a romantic and a gentleman,” George smirked.

“Right, so what was in the letter?” Fred continued.

“I’m not telling you that,” Theodora scoffed playfully, “it’s enough that you read one already.”

“He was so sweet from the beginning?” George said incredulously.

“No,” Theodora shook her head, “at first we just talked about school and his job.”

“And then?” Fred wanted to know more.

“And then we started talking about other things.” Theodora pulled her legs toward herself, crossed her arms over them, and buried her face in them.

“Why are you holding back so much?” Fred asked puzzled.

“You never hesitated to tell us about a boy before.” George agreed.

“Because this is not just a random boy, it’s your brother,” Theodora said nonchalantly.

Fred and George exchanged looks as if they both got the same thought.

“And because, as I told you for the 100th time, nothing is going on between us.” Theodora continued as the twins didn’t say anything.

“Theo,” George tilted his head, “are you trying to hold back because of us?”

Theodora looked up at him, biting the inner side of her lip.

“I’m telling you the truth,” she whined.

“And we believe you but we can see that you are hiding your excitement and I can feel you shaking,” Fred said gently, putting his arm around Theodora’s shoulders.

“Fred, Charlie, and I didn’t tease you and Bill all summer just to have a laugh. We genuinely want you two to be together.” Theodora looked up at George as he said those words.

“Yeah,” nodded Fred, “we reckon you two would be great together.”

“You do?” Theodora whispered.

“What did you think?” Fred gave out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know,” Theodora shrugged her shoulders, “perhaps you would find it weird if I was involved with your brother.”

“Theo, you fancy Bill since our second year,” George smirked.

“We knew it was going to happen sooner or later and we can’t protect you from boys your entire life.” Fred chuckled.

“Okay.” Theodora swallowed her nerves.

“So, can you loosen up now?” Fred ruffled her hair.

“And tell you what? How shocked I was when I got his letter and a birthday present? How happy each letter he sent me made me? How surprised I was when he wrote that he missed me and not just as a friend? How I was pacing up and down my dorm, beating my head when he started signing his letters with Love, William instead of Bill? How he started sending me roses and how all of a sudden we didn’t talk about our lives but how much we want to see each other and be together? How my heart starts to beat faster by just thinking about him or how I am in love with him? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Theodora buried her head in her hands again. She felt her cheeks burning and she thought that her heart was going to escape her rib cage any second now, reminiscing on the last few months. She couldn’t stop the tears gathering in her eyes.

She felt great finally talking about Bill to Fred and George, especially now that she knew that they wanted them to be together. But she hated how she got her hopes up – how their words made her hopeful.

“That’s all very sweet,” Fred said gently.

“And as much as we would like to read all those letters and start planning your wedding,” continued George, “why do you sound like all of that isn’t exactly what you want?”

“Because,” Theodora sniffed, “we didn’t see each other since last summer and as much as the whole thing is great, it’s too good to be true.”

“What, why?” Fred wiped the tears off her cheek.

“Oh, come on. You really believe Bill feels the same about me? About me?” Theodora pressed her hands against her chest.

“He clearly thought that I was too young last summer and now all of a sudden he changed his mind and wants to be with me?”

“Look,” George pulled Theodora in a hug, “I don’t know what Bill wrote to you in those letters or what he promised you but I know that our brother is not a liar. So if he, at any point, said that he wants to be with you, you better believe him.”

“George is right, Theo. Bill wouldn’t lead you on or suddenly change his mind when he would see you if that’s what’s going through your head. He might’ve been stubborn during the summer but we wouldn’t tease him if we thought he doesn’t fancy you.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that you two could be in a relationship?” George lifted Theodora’s chin so that she looked at them again.

“I don’t know,” Theodora sighed, “because I never felt this way about anyone. Because he understands me on a completely different level. Because he treats me like an adult. Because I get this warm feeling of belonging when I think about him.”

“And what, you think you don’t deserve that?” Fred lifted his eyebrows.

“I guess.”

Now that she was talking about it – about the thoughts that were dwelling inside her mind for months – the whole situation did sound kind of silly. When did she become so pessimistic?

“Rubbish!” George said with a cheeky grin.

“Bill’s great and so are you, so you’re a match made by Godric Gryffindor himself.” Fred sent Theodora a wink.

“I am so lucky to have you as my friends.” Theodora put her arms around Fred and George and hugged them.

“Of course, you’re lucky. If you weren’t friends with us, you would never get a chance to kiss Bill.” Fred made a kissy face.

“Yeah, you’re welcome by the way!” George laughed.

Theodora playfully rolled her eyes, wanting to smack her two best friends over their heads but since they have been nothing but amazing throughout this conversation she decided to let them mock her, just a little bit.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Dissociation can be characterized as the mental process of disconnecting from one’s thoughts, feelings and as in your case… sense of identity. The vanity mirror situated in front of you reflected an image that did not immediately register. Rather than claim the woman staring back at you, it was easier to identify her as your doppelganger. Under these altered circumstances, she was the one who was betrayed – not you. She was the foolish one who tolerated months of loneliness for a happy ending that would not come. The signs of a failing relationship were all present, and yet they were given little importance or were outright ignored. It was her fault, after-all. She should have known better. If only she had paid more attention, maybe she would have realized that the end was near.

But who was she to fight fate?

The vibrations of your phone on the vanity lured your attention away from the mirror, and the pitiful creature who broke their own heart. Truthfully, you were surprised that Iwaizumi allowed you access to the device – what if you chose to abide by your masochistic desires and contacted him? The person responsible for the shattered soul staring back at you? But the fact it was Oikawa Tooru who was calling minutes after your sister’s exit could not have been a coincidence. For a few seconds you debated on answering, would your voice deny your request to speak as it did earlier? On the fourth ring, you tapped answer then brought the phone to your ear with a sniffle.

“Hi y/n-y/n.” The mocha haired setter tried to sound casual, disguising the sadness he was currently experiencing on your behalf. He hated that he could not be there for you. Ever since he moved to Brazil, he made it his mission to remain a vital part of your life. Time differences or scheduling conflicts would not stop him from being there for you. Not before, and not now. That being said, it pained him knowing he could not be there with you right now.

“Tooru…” Upon hearing his greeting, a sob immediately attacked your throat. The dam containing the river of emotions you were suppressing for the last hour collapsed, unleashing the tears clinging to your lashes to trail along your cheeks, stinging the wounds slashed into your flesh in the process. Clasping a hand against your mouth to muffle the sound, you pinched your eyelids shut as self hatred swelled your lungs. “I’m a fucking idiot. Tooru…I’m so fucking stupid.” And there it was – bitter acceptance. You could not blame your reflection for your own mistakes. They were yours, and yours alone.

“Y/n, please stop it.” Oikawa clutched the phone tightly against his ear, his own eyes becoming quite wet upon hearing your sobs. “You’re not stupid, okay! It’s not your fault.” Using his index finger, he rubbed against his cheeks roughly. “He’s stupid. You are a goddess and he’s the stupid-head who thought it was okay to hurt you.” The insult was childish, but he was thoroughly flustered, and it was the best he could do.

“You called him a stupid-head. But you’re the one crying with me on the phone.” Strange as it was, you found comfort in having him join you in your hysteria. While the tears continued to parade down your face, laughter soon mixed in with your cries. And for the first time in hours you felt a tinge of happiness.

“Don’t make fun of mee.” The setter whined out, before reaching for a napkin to blow his nose. “I love you, y/n-y/n. Don’t hate yourself. It’ll make me sad.” Sad was an understatement. Hearing you direct the blame to yourself devastated him. The choice to place faith in your partner of eight years was not irresponsible. The only person to blame in the scenario was your fiancé. Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi was also upset at Atsumu for lying on his twin’s behalf, but he did not share the feeling. If he was being honest with himself, he would also do anything to protect his loved ones, including lying.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Tooru. I don’t know how I’m supposed to let go.” Could you really let him go? The question twisted the knife snug between your ribcage, prompting you to expel a whimper in agony.

“You don’t have to do anything right now. You don’t have to make a decision right away, okay?” He was quick to silence your concerns, knowing that the thought of losing your relationship would be far too much to handle right now.

“I just keep thinking… Even if didn’t have any relationship with her, what if he did with someone else? What else is he lying about? I just don’t know.” The process of vocalizing your fears was simultaneously painful and therapeutic. While it was slightly easier to breathe, the ache swarming your system did not subside.

“You’re only hurting yourself thinking about that. You won’t know the truth until you talk to him. But I don’t suggest doing that until you feel better.” Oikawa fiddled with the phone aimlessly, then swallowed the sigh wishing to depart. There was no magical solution that he could offer, and it was damn frustrating.  

His submission was followed by a minute of silence, as words failed you once more. A conversation with your fiancé was inevitable. Whether it was to mend your relationship or to return the ring – you would have to face him.

“I wish you were here.” The whispered confession fell from your lips as you scrubbed at the mascara smudged against your skin.

“I… wish I was too. I’m sorry.” A clump had formed inside of his esophagus, a side effect of his guilt. Though, you did not want his apology. Something you were about to state until Makki stormed into the bedroom with Akari poking her head inside from behind the door-frame. 

“Hey, what is this? A crying party and I wasn’t invited? Come here, you little brat.” The pink haired male draped his arms around you, plopping his chin against your head lazily. “Thanks for making her cry, shittykawa!” Settling his gaze on his own reflection, an eyelid was dipped into a wink. Akari simply giggled at your friend’s silly antics as you rolled your eyes.

“Is that Makki?” Oikawa questioned gently, dragging his fingers through his hair with an intake of breath.

“Mhmm.” With the unemployed male now playfully tugging at your swollen cheeks, a soft melody pushed past your lips. You had to swat at him three times for him to cease the action and retreat to where your sister was stood. Once you were no longer being pestered, you raised your y/e/c irises to your reflection, and this time you did not mind what you saw in return.

“Hey Tooru.” Brushing the tips of your fingers along your bottom lids, the excess makeup was discarded to further polish your image. “Thank you for being the best.”

“Hey, I know Iwa-chan is your favourite. But you are my favourite, alright.” A dramatic huff was exhaled by the setter, though he did not feel that he earned the gratitude. He wanted to erase your pain, but that was sadly an impossible task and a fools dream. 

Let’s do it again, shall we -  Dissociation

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: oikawa tooru has my whole ass heart. 

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa  @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu​ @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing​ @uzumakioden​ @nerdynstoned​ @kenmasgameboy​ @unstableye​ @ouijaeater15​ @aquariarose​ @fandomtrashpandasposts​ @helloalex80​ @stfucanunot​ @envyusshades​ @cuddlesslut​ @seijohiseliterambles​ @chaichai-the-weeb​ @meiikuki​

[erin-bo-berin]

And Baby Makes Three

MASTERLIST

Happy Valentine’s Day! To celebrate, I’m bringing some more fluff, but specifically daddy Spencer. This was requested by @one-sweet-gubler. I had so much fun writing this one and got a bit carried away as I ended writing about the whole pregnancy instead of just the labor part, so it may be a little long. I hope you enjoy all the Daddy Spencer feels. :)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 4,278

Spencer was over the moon when you finally fell pregnant.

The two of you had been trying for a baby for a year, with many difficulties. After a plethora of negative tests and even a false positive, you were over the moon when you found out this positive test was the real thing.

You’d taken 6 tests to be sure.

After a visit to the doctor confirmed it, you were determined to make the surprise something special for Spencer.

He had been dreaming about having kids almost all of his life. He was so good with children and the children he encountered at his job, an FBI profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It was usually scary situations when he encountered kids , but he was always there with soothing words and gentle hugs.

You, with the help of his work family, surprised him at work one day. You were so close to his teammates yourself, you knew you wanted them to be a part of the surprise as well.

You showed up at the BAU under the pretense that he’d forgotten something at home. 

The team had just gathered around the round table to brief about a new case when you walked in. Of course, Spencer was the only one truly surprised one to see you.

You’d apologized for interrupting and said that he’d left something at home that you needed to bring to him. You held up a paper bag, which only confused him, knowing he’d been sure to grab his lunch.

Everyone had watched in anticipation when he pulled a gift box out of the bag.

He’d opened it to a white onesie that when unfolded said Hi Daddy, I can’t wait to meet you. Underneath it was the first ultrasound picture of tiny baby Reid.

He was so shocked that at first he didn’t know what to do. His gaze moved around all the smiling faces at the table, then landed on you, his face breaking into a huge smile.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.” Your own smile was as big as his.

He’d rushed towards you, hugging you tight and spinning you around in his excitement before the entire team surrounded you both giving hugs and their congratulations.

You were officially going to be parents.

•

Pregnancy wasn’t exactly a breeze for you, yet it wasn’t as bad as some women’s.

The first trimester was filled with lots of nausea, vomiting and exhaustion.

Spencer assured you that it would normally pass by the end of the first trimester. Thankfully it did, but until that point you felt like you lived off of crackers and ginger ale.

He was always the sweetest with you, making sure your supply of both never ran out. When he was home on cases, he’d cuddle with you on the couch letting you have pick of whatever show you wanted to watch—which of course you’d let him end up picking, no matter what. You would lay with your head in his lap and he’d mindlessly play with your hair. Those were some of the best days of your early pregnancy.

By your second trimester, new symptoms arrived, as did the appearance of baby Reid. By 15 weeks, you’d started to show just enough to look pregnant and not actually bloated. 

Spencer would always rub the tiny bump and talk to the baby, things that made your heart soar. It was little gestures like that that made you fall more in love with him each day.

Not only had your belly grown, but so had your appetite. You had started craving things with a vengeance, something that would often mix horribly with your unbalanced pregnancy emotions. It would be like the two wires would accidentally cross in your pregnancy brain, leading to a meltdown.

One night you’d been craving avocados so badly, you’d gone downstairs to eat the last one that you’d been saving. You found it gone, not even remembering you had already eaten it.

Spencer found you on the kitchen floor sobbing over the fact there were no avocados. He’d ended up running to the store at 9 o’clock at night to buy at least two dozen of them. You’d felt so bad afterwards, but he’d only kissed you and assured you that it was only the pregnancy hormones.

“You’re growing a little human, you’re allowed to be a little crazy sometimes,” he comforted you.

Besides the mood swings, cravings and even heartburn, you were most surprised at the changes in your libido. 

You could attest that your sex life with Spencer had never been more steamy than it was then; you were sure he could agree.

20 weeks came and you’d both agreed to find out the sex.

Instead of finding out at the doctor’s, the team had gotten together to throw a gender reveal party—mainly Penelope Garcia’s idea as she was stoked to have another BAU baby around, so who could refuse her?

Obviously it was a small get together with just the BAU team, Spencer and yourself. JJ had been in charge of getting the results, Garcia had baked the cake with the color reveal in it and of course Rossi had supplied his house as the location, as per usual.

You and Spencer both cut into the cake simultaneously and pulled out the first piece, revealing a pink hued cake.

You were thrilled, but you think it was safe to say that Spencer was ecstatic.

•

Baby names were tough.

You’d yet to start talking about names because Spencer wanted to wait until you’d found out the sex before picking a name.

“I want it to be special,” he whined a little, his bottom lip jutting out, “She deserves a good name.”

“I’m still not naming my child Aphrodite, Spencer.”

You had left it to him to research a name; he was so passionate about it, you couldn’t say no. After all, you wanted him involved in every way possible since he couldn’t technically carry the baby.

“Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty,” Spencer retorted, still flipping through books.

He was on the floor surrounded by text books, baby name books, pregnancy guide books, you couldn’t even figure out what else. He’d always been a big reader, but he made sure thus far to have as much knowledge as he could on pregnancy, childbirth and parenting.

“After all, her mommy is a goddess,” he smirked as he flipped a page.

“Why Spencer Reid, that was actually quite smooth of you.”

You ruffled his hair before leaning down and kissing him on the lips. His hands cupped your belly and he gave it a kiss too.

“Well she wouldn’t exist if I wasn’t.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him, leaving him to his reading.

•

Around 22 weeks, you felt her first movements. At first it felt like a small gurgle from your stomach and you’d stopped what you were doing, waiting to see if you’d feel it again.

When the sensation happened, it was like the soft wings of a butterfly brushing the inside of your belly. You’d ran to Spencer, thrilled that you’d finally felt her move. He pouted when he realized it wasn’t yet strong enough for him to feel from the outside.

“Keep on growing, little one,” he’d whispered to your belly, “Daddy wants to feel your kicks too.”

When she started kicking, she kicked hard.

Spencer’s reaction to feeling her kick for the first time was amazing. You could see all the love in his eyes for the little baby girl you’d both created, growing and getting stronger every day.

“I feel you baby girl,” he smiled at your belly, rubbing the spot she’d just kicked, kissing it gently.

Then he took your face in his hands and kissed you so lovingly it left you breathless.

“Thank you for being amazing,” he’d murmured against your lips before kissing you again.

•

5 months had become 6 months. Six nearly had nearly become seven.

You were almost 7 months and at your third trimester and you still hadn’t picked a name for baby girl.

Although one day, it just seemed to click into place.

“I got it!” he’d declared, looking up from a baby book.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” you said, intrigued.

“How about Arabella? It’s a Dutch name for beautiful.”

“Arabella,” you let the name roll off your tongue and you smiled, “It’s perfect for her. Now what about a middle name?”

He was already flipping through pages again, reading fast as lightning.

“I haven’t gotten that far. I’ve only gotten the first name down.”

You chuckled, “At this rate we might name her by the time she graduates from high school.”

He didn’t reply, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. It was then that a thought occurred to you, or rather a name.

“How about Joy?”

“Hmm?” he asked, still distracted by the text.

“Joy. For her middle name. Because we’re so overjoyed about her.”

He looked up, thinking.

“Arabella Joy Reid,” he said, trying it out, then looking back at you. 

“It’s perfect.”

•

The final trimester was the real challenge.

Your body was swollen and sore, you felt huge and you were constantly exhausted. Spencer was the best at spoiling you and Arabella though. Between the cute baby things he bought—one being an onesie that said Daddy’s Little Genius—he would fix meals when he was home, run a bath for you and cuddle you afterwards.

You would often make remarks about how big you felt but he would immediately squash your insecurities saying you looked even more beautiful while pregnant.

When he left for work or for a case, he’d always make sure to kiss your bump as well as kissing you before he left, his way of saying goodbye to his girls.

As the time crept closer to her being born, his excitement grew. He couldn’t wait for your family to expand. It was so endearing to see him so happy and excited. You knew he didn’t get to have the same experience as you did currently, so you understood that he was more than eager to have her here and bond with her.

He was going to make an amazing dad.

As much as you wanted to meet your little bundle of joy, the impending approach of labor made you nervous. Obviously being a first time mom, you only knew what you’d heard and read, not what the actual experience would be like.

“Some studies have said that childbirth actually hurts more than broken bones,” Spencer had told you.

“Not helping!” you groaned.

He winced, quickly realizing his mistake.

“Well at least there’s medication now for labor pains unlike in old days when they used to—”

You stopped him in the middle of his sentence.

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” you said, “You better believe the moment I can get an epidural, I’m going to get it.”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with is fine by me.”

He squeezed your hand, showing you that you truly did have his support. He hated to see you in pain and he knew labor was going to be strenuous, but you knew he’d be there with you every step of the way.

“Just think in two weeks we’re going to be able to finally meet her,” Spencer beamed, stroking your stomach where one of her feet had just pushed hard enough to show an imprint through your belly.

“It’s about time you carried her for once,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Oh believe me, you’ll have to fight me before I give up holding her.”

You had zero doubts about that.

•

Your due date was right around the corner when Spencer had to fly to Colorado for a case. 

“You’re sure you’ll call me if anything happens, right?” Spencer asked for the third time.

“Spence, I’m sure,” you answered, “Besides my due date isn’t for 5 more days and my doctor said there’s a chance she might be a tad bit overdue.”

“Tell her daddy says to stay in there until I get back.”

“I will. But keep in mind, she’s as stubborn as you are.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, feigning offense.

You laughed, “Go save a life. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

After you’d said your goodbyes, you resumed the cleaning you’d needed to finish up before baby got here.

You’d successfully washed and put away all her clothes, washed all the bottles and stored them in the cabinet along with the canisters of formula and set up her changing table with wipes and diapers.

Your hospital bag had been packed weeks ago and sat next to the door. 

Now you just finished small things like washing dishes, folding laundry and vacuuming. Sweeping was definitely not an option since you couldn’t bend down for the dustpan. Oh, how you missed being able to bend down like a normal person.

It was around one in the afternoon when you decided to lay down because you had become exhausted and your back had begun to ache. 

With a quick text to Spencer, you let him know you were napping in case you didn’t answer and he reminded you Garcia was on speed dial if you needed anything.

You fell into a restless sleep, waking about an hour later drenched in sweat, the ache now have migrated to the front of your body. You sat up to retrieve your phone so you could time the contractions, just to ensure they weren’t Braxton Hicks. That’s when you felt a gush of liquid between your legs, soaking your pants and the bed sheets.

Your thumb immediately hit the 1 on screen, dialing Penelope Garcia.

•

Spencer was standing in front of the geo map he’d been working on, studying it when his phone rang. He reached into his pocket, seeing it was Garcia and none the wiser thought she would be reporting more info on the current case.

“Hey Garcia.”

“Don’t freak out.”

His brows crinkled.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Y/N’s in labor.”

“What?!” His answer was so loud, it startled some officers nearby, “She’s not due for at least a week more!”

“Don’t tell me, tell your offspring,” Penelope retorted, “Cause she’s on her way.”

“Has her water broke? Are they sure it’s not just false labor?”

“Half an hour ago, they’re checking her now. I’m staying here until you get here obviously, but I’d hurry cause I feel like she’s gonna want you here to wring your neck when labor really starts.”

 “Okay, I’ll catch the first flight I can and call you back when I get the flight info.”

He said a quick goodbye and rushed to Emily.

“Y/N’s gone into labor and I need to get the next flight out,” he told her, simultaneously looking up flight information out of Colorado on his phone.

“Spence.”

He was too busy searching to catch the worried tone in her voice. It wasn’t until he saw the numerous amounts of cancelled next to all flights that he looked up at her.

“Normally, I’d say go ahead and go. But I don’t think you’re going to get a flight anywhere in this weather.” She pointed to the window behind him.

He turned to see it snowing so hard he couldn’t see anything else but white.

“All flights have been grounded until the storm is over. We’re stuck here.”

“No,” Spencer muttered, starting to panic.

He paced back and forth, his frustration mounting. In one motion he swiped all of the papers off the desk in his irritation, his frustration and anger at the situation bubbling to the surface.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, sinking down in the chair at the table, his hands covering his face.

His hands pushed through his hair in exasperation, his curls falling back into place moments later.

He wasn’t going to make it there in time. He was going to miss it all.

The love of his life and the mother of his child was going to have to go through labor without him.

•

“What do you mean you’re not going to make it?!” Penelope shrieked.

“All flights are grounded for the next 48 hours until this damn snow storm is over,” Spencer said. 

“And there’s no way you can make it back?”

“I’ve tried everything,” he said, sounding resigned.

“What am I supposed to tell her?”

“The truth. Garcia, you’re going to have to stay with her.”

“Me? I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ no babies!”

“Garcia this is no time to be quoting Gone With The Wind!” Spencer exclaimed, exasperated.

“Sorry, it’s just, Spencer I don’t know what to do and she wants you!”

“Just be there, hold her hand, give her ice chips, encourage her. I’m not letting her be alone. Garcia, please,” he practically begged.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep you updated. Garcia tech-analyst-turned-midwife out.”

-

You were laying in bed, covered in sweat from just making it through another contraction.

At your last check, you were only 4 centimeters dilated. You still had one more to go before you could get the epidural.

“This suuuuucks,” you moaned.

Your contractions were still at least 5 minutes apart, signaling you were still in the last stages of early labor, if not in early stages of active. All of that to mean the pain medication wasn’t coming until they got stronger and more frequent.

“And they said these are only the mild ones,” you groaned, looking over at Garcia who was grabbing your cup of ice.

She gave you another spoonful and put the cup back.

“You’re doing great though and the doctor said the epidural will help with most of the real intense contractions.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing Spencer isn’t here right now cause I feel like I could kill him,” you muttered.

You were devastated when Penelope told you he was stuck in Colorado. You hated that he was going to miss Arabella’s birth and you needed him here. But at the moment, you were exhausted, sweaty, in pain and very angry that Spencer had gotten you pregnant.

Of course, that was just the pain talking.

-

“I’m so sorry you got stuck with me,” you later panted, having worked your way through the previous contraction.

“Oh, sweetheart, no. I’m honored. You’ve been doing great,” she smiled, wiping your forehead, “Besides I’m thrilled to meet my goddaughter.”

You smiled weakly.

You were currently waiting for the anesthesiologist to set up the epidural. Your contractions had started amping up big time and were coming closer together. It had been several hours since you’d first been admitted to the hospital, the nightfall just outside your window indicating the late hour.

After being propped up against Penelope and neither of you looking at the needle that was inserted into your spine, the epidural was finally taking affect. The sweet sensation of numbness was a relief. You had gone from being in excruciating pain to feeling absolutely nothing and it allowed you to get some rest while your labor advanced.

A few cat naps later, Penelope had sent a selfie of the two of you to Spencer to let him know that you both were still alive and well; things were going smoothly. 

You passed the time by watching tv, talking to Garcia and napping. It took hours for you to progress, but slowly, you did. It was nearing dawn the next morning when it was reported that you were 9 centimeters dilated. It was getting closer to time to meet yours and Spencer’s baby and you found yourself wishing again that he was here with you.

Things progressed fast and by 7 am you were pushing your baby girl out into the world. Penelope was holding your hand as you squeezed it, pushing with all your strength. 

She, the nurses and the doctor kept hollering their encouragement as they told you to push and finally you heard the wonderful first cries of your baby.

You fell back against your pillow, exhausted, overwhelmed, but happy as she was placed on your chest. She was still covered in all the normal birthing elements, but she was beautiful, just like her name implied.

“Oh Y/N she’s beautiful,” Penelope gasped, in awe.

She’d followed the nurses when they’d taken Arabella to clean her off and measure her. 

“Nice and healthy too. Almost nine pounds,” she smiled, “She’s going to be tall like her daddy.”

You smiled and watched as she took pictures of her to send to Spencer.

You reached your arms out and took her from the nurse once they’d swaddled her.

“Hello angel,” you whispered, “You just couldn’t wait until daddy got home, now could you?”

•

It had officially been almost an entire day since you’d had Arabella. 

You’d just gotten her to sleep when you heard a commotion just outside of your hospital room. You heard a mixture of voices, but your heart leaped when you heard your boyfriend’s in the mix. 

Footsteps got closer and you looked up as Spencer practically bounded in, a huge smile on his face. He dropped his go bag and satchel on the floor next to the door and walked over to your side.

“There’s my angel,” he said.

“Which one? Her or me?” you teased.

“Both of you.”

Spencer smiled running a hand over your still mess of hair and kissed your forehead.

“Look at her. You did amazing, Y/N.”

“Well you did kind of help,” you smirked.

“Okay, we did amazing.”

“Yes, we did,” you agreed, handing her to Spencer.

“Hi beautiful,” he crooned, stroking her cheek with his finger, “Daddy’s been waiting a long time to meet you.”

He sat in the chair beside you and snuggled her close. Arabella stretched a little in her sleep, opening her eyes when she heard his voice.

“Someone recognizes daddy’s voice,” you smiled.

“Well hello there Arabella. I heard you had quite the dramatic entrance.”

She cooed, eyes never leaving his face.

You watched the two of them, especially Spencer. He was so in love with her and you were so in love with him.

She yawned and gripped onto his finger. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking up at you now that she was contently cuddled in his arms.

“Tired and sore,” you chuckled, “But she was definitely worth it.”

“I’ll say, I mean look how cute our baby is.”

Spencer held one of her feet that had come out of the swaddle.

“Look at those tiny feet,” he baby-talked to Arabella, before kissing the bottom of it.

She pulled her foot away, beginning to get fussy.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” he frowned, covering her foot back up with the blanket.

“She’s tired and probably hungry. She’d barely gone to sleep before you got here.”

His eyes lit up.

“Can I feed her?”

“Go ahead,” you smiled.

You rang for the nurse and while she fetched a bottle, Arabella began to cry.

“I know, I know,” Spencer pouted, rocking her slightly, “A bottle’s coming, baby girl.”

The nurse returned with the bottle and Spencer took it, placing it gently in Arabella’s mouth. She started sucking greedily, her cries vanished.

You watched them with sleepy eyes, a smile on your face. Spencer looked up, noticing you drifting off.

“Hey, why don’t you rest and take a nap? I’ve got this.”

“You sure?”

He leaned over, kissing you gently.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he looked down at Arabella, “Tell mommy we got this.”

She made small grunting noises as she ate and he chuckled.

“See? We’re good on our own.”

You didn’t argue. You knew you’d need your rest and better take it when you had the chance. You’d began drifting off when you heard Spencer’s words to Arabella.

“I love your mommy so much. Besides you, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

•

Spencer watched his daughter eat all of her bottle while he talked to her. She seemed to listen too, watching him the entire time.

“Just wait until auntie JJ meets you,” he said, “She might ever want to give you back. She’s never had a baby girl.”

He told her all about the rest of his teammates, talked to her about how he waited so long to meet her, he even told her how he and Y/N had met. He set the bottle aside when she was finished, laying her against his chest and on his shoulder to burp her, like he’d read about.

When she was settled, he laid her against his chest, rocking her just a bit. It wasn’t long until he fell asleep along with her.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when a nurse had woken him.

“I’m sorry Dr. Reid,” she apologized, “I was just making rounds and was checking in on the baby. Do you want me to take her and put her back in the bassinet to sleep?”

“No, I think I want to hold her a little while longer.”

She smiled and nodded before she left the room. He looked down to Arabella sleeping peacefully on his chest. 

His mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that this tiny, perfect little human was his. He was filled with such love for her and Y/N.

He kissed her head gently.

“Not even a day old and you have me wrapped around your little finger.”

He got comfortable in the chair once again, falling back asleep with her in his arms.

Despite all the bad things he saw in his day to day work, good moments like this truly outweighed all the bad.

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​

[the-silentium]

The Lost Future Pt. 2

Masterlist Part 3

Pairing: soulmate!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Soulmate AU where the soulmates share their wounds. || Along with your brother, you are transported into the 1960's with a bunch of kids you don't know. Turns out they are trying to stop the 2019 apocalypse and you are playing a key part of it.

Words: 3500 words

Warnings: Violence, swears, angst, fluff. FRENCH WORDS Y'all have to bear with my French Canadian ass.

A/N: Yay part 2 is out! We are almost at the best part :3 I love comments and feedback 💜 The French words are translated so no need to go on google translate and have a bad traduction. Also, I anyone want to be tagged in the next part, feel free to ask. Enjoy!

After everyone had calmed down and the two slashed hands were taken care of, the food was shared and people scattered to different places in the house and bunker. Andrew hasn't left your side until 11, asking non-stop how you were feeling and catching you up about what happened into his life while you were away. 

"So yeah. Oh and I got a puppy." You squealed in excitation. You loved dogs and puppies were the best. You already knew what breed Roo's companion was, you both had wanted one for years but you would never deny your old Mountain Bernese, Berrick, all the love and attention he deserved. 

"You got a Samoyed?" Oh how you wanted to shower this little ball of white fur in cuddles and kisses. 

"Ya. Named him Yukon. He's the happiest puppy of the world but damn! He loves mud better than his food! I swear, he starts dancing when it rains and the second we open the door, he rolls into the closest puddle of mud." You laugh wholeheartedly, the image clear in your mind. Your joy was short-lived when you caught the sight of a certain blue-eyed boy. Your soulmate. 

The thought felt weird but incredibly right. Deep inside you, a primal desire was burning for you to dive right into the newfound relationship without any back thought and see what would happen next. Unfortunately, you knew what would happen next. It was inevitable. 

So maybe you could save Five from a major heartbreak and just reject him. It would hurt every party involved, but it was the best option. You couldn't lead him on, make him love you, and then break his heart. From what you learned while being around Five today, is that he has walls around his heart. So tall. So thick. You were sure any trauma that would leave someone else broken in thousands of pieces would not even bother him. But your link with him gave you a secret passage through these defenses making you one of the few things that could hurt him. 

"Do you really want to do this to you? Deny yourself to be happy?" Damn him and his perfect reading of you. 

"You know what I'm going back to when we go back in 2019." 

"I do. That's why I say that you should enjoy it while it lasts. You deserve it." 

You scoffed at his comment. "It would be selfish. He would suffer because of me." 

Andrew sighed, he would never change your mind and he knew it. He softly patted the back of your hand before getting up. "All I say is you have your last chance." He made his way in another room, where his not so comfortable bed was waiting for him to try and sleep as much as he could before another day began. 

You harshly wiped the fresh tears for your eyes, but your throat was constricting despite your best efforts. At least, you managed to keep your sobs in, the only telltale of your predicament being the regular shakes of your body. 

You froze when you felt fingers stroking your arm in a reassuring manner. You didn't dare to breathe, in fear of letting a sob escape your lips. No one else could know.

"I'll kill him if he hurt you." Your ragged breath caused the pressure on your arm to increase slightly. You really tried to resist. You tried. But you needed the comfort. Just once. You would allow it just this once. 

"That's what brothers do. You should know that." Five hummed before moving closer. You didn't know how your body knew that Five was going to get onto your bed and sit so that your head would be on his lap, but it did. Your desire to cry came back full force when you realize how heavenly the feeling was. His hand in your hair, his fingers tracing lines on your arm, his patience when waiting for your shaking form to calm down. You felt so dirty to enjoy his presence while knowing that you were digging the grave of his happiness. 

"I'm definitely killing him." You laughed, tapping his legs in a playful manner. His chuckles sounded like music to your ears and you knew right then that you signed your fate. You needed to hear it again and maybe if you were lucky enough, you could hear his laugh before everything ended. 

"Sooo…" You turned on your back so you could try to discern his handsome features in the dark. "Why does Klaus call you old bastard? We are all born on the same day, right?" 

"Yes. But when I jumped into the apocalypse, I got stuck there for 45 years, meaning that my mind is 58 years old." The three lasts words were so low that you almost missed them. Almost. "Deal breaker?" Your bandaged hand reached for his, testing the water. 

"No. Never." You closed your eyes the second his fingers interlaced with yours. You tried to engrave this perfect moment, your first intimate time with your new-found soulmate in your memory.  

"I'm sorry." Five's whispered. His fingers were tracing the border of the bandages covering your hand. 

"For what? You didn't hurt me." You admired his hair, contemplating how soft they would feel under your fingers. 

"Yes I did. I was a hitman. I got stabbed, I barely survived an explosion, I hurt myself in the apocalypse so many times that I'm surprised I didn't die from an infection-" Your furrowed brow made him ponder. "You never got hurt because of me?" 

"Nope. Never. Did you?" He shook his head. His fingers slowed their motions on your hand, telltale of his mind working at light speed. You couldn't stop yourself this time and reached for his dark strands, combing your fingers through their softness. For a tiny second, Five tensed, stopping his ministrations simultaneously but soon relaxed and leaned into your hand. You smiled and massaged his scalp just like your mother did to you when you weren't well. "Maybe our bond couldn't link us through the timelines." He sighed before a tired smile stretched his lips. "I'm glad." 

You giggled, trying to suppress the yawn building in your throat, but failing miserably. A kiss fell on your uninjured hand followed by a stroke on the cheek. "Get some sleep." Your whine got a chuckle from him. "We'll have plenty of time after we stop the apocalypse." A last kiss landed on your forehead and Five moved to get up.  "Good night, mon âme soeur." 

You smiled at his flawless use of French. "Bonne nuit, my soulmate" 

…………………………….

Just after breakfast (read here the rest of yesterday's diner) everyone gathered in the bunker to assess yours and your brother's powers. 

"So, Roo can kinda dematerialize himself? I don't know how to explain it." The Hargreeves were all sat on couches, watching them intently. Vanya had woken up and was briefed of the recent events. 

"Just show us." Diego played with a knife, obviously bored. 

Andrew placed himself in the middle of the room while you joined Five and sit on the ground between his legs. Andrew pointed to Klaus who was fiddling with a controller. "Throw it at me." 

The surprised cough of Klaus made you giggle. His left hand went to his chest dramatically, his eyes wide. "Me? Throw an innocent controller at you?" Letting go of the act, Klaus' eyes returned to normal, a smile on his face. "Fine." 

The throw was messy and weak, hitting its target on the chest nonetheless before falling to the ground and a back piece of it broke. Your twin lifted his arms as to say "see?" He then pointed to Diego, shiny knife still in hands. "Throw it at me. Don't hold back and don't deviate." 

The room stopped breathing. "Sorry, what?" Diego was incredulous, just like everyone else, minus you. 

Confident, Andrew nodded. "You heard me. Bring it on." 

Allison and Vanya tried to dissuade their brother, clearly afraid that someone would be gravely hurt in this process. "You asked for it." You weren't surprised by the amount of force Diego put behind his throw. The knife flew at an incredible speed, passing right through Andrew leaving no hole, no blood, nothing. On the other side, the wall wasn't as lucky. 

"What?!" Diego was on his feet in a second, quickly getting to his knife to inspect it while your brother flashed a smug grin. "Things pass through you?" His eyes went from the broken controller at their feet to the weapon, trying to figure out what really happened. 

"When I want them to." Hands digging in his pants pockets, Andrew swung himself on his heels and toes. "It comes very handy in fights."

You had indeed witnessed a fight between Roo and 3 bigger tugs, the outcome hasn't surprised you, but seeing it was very impressive. He had to time his punches so his body would be fully materialized when the punch landed all the while taking care that his body was dematerialized for any punch threw at him. His power had no secret for him and he mastered it completely. Unlike you, who lacked practice. 

Andrew then sit on the floor, his eyes not leaving yours. It was your turn. You nodded. Your nervosity was making your hands shake a bit. It has been a while since you last used your power and you were scared that you would embarrass yourself in front of the perfectly trained Hargreeves. A deep breath entered your lungs before you concentrated on visualizing Roo's soul. 

You could see it neatly, a pale ivory flame softly floating within Andrew's seated form. You projected your own soul forward, reaching for the silky edges of your brother's and pushed him into the back seat. You took control of his body, slight nausea hitting you in the first seconds. You blinked quickly, adjusting to your new vessel and assessed the scene before your new eyes. 

Your real body was laid down on the floor with a panicking Five leaning over it. He slowly shook its shoulders, your name falling from his lips in an urgent tone. Allison and Vanya scurried to help him, Klaus and Diego watched seemingly paralyzed and Luther was the one to slap the back of your current head. 

"What's happening to her?" 

"I'm fine. I told you, my body just shut down when I project myself." A furious Five raised his head to meet your eyes and you suddenly felt very small despite Andrew being taller than the blue-eyed boy. 

"Y/N? It's you in Andrew's body?" You nodded, unsure of what you just got into. "You didn't tell us shit!" His harsh tone caused a lump to form in your throat, blocking almost completely your airways. You knew you'd screw something up. Andrew's soul became agitated, its pure ivory slightly turning grey on the edges. You could feel his anger at the back of your mind, his need to punch something. I don't care that this midget is your soulmate. He better watch how he talks to you. You cringed at Andrew's thoughts. 

"Sorry." You muttered. You quickly projected yourself back into your body to try and appease everyone. You pondered if leaving the room was a good idea, fleeing from the trouble you had just created and more importantly, trying to forget Five's anger directed at you. The ex-assassin was thinking ahead of you, because even before you could set up your mind, a hand caught yours keeping you in place. He helped you get into a seated position and positioned himself right behind you, encasing you with his legs on each side of yours. 

Five's muscles on your back softened only slightly. Allison stayed close by despite everyone else regaining their initial place. "Now can you explain?" You didn't want to meet their eyes in fear of what you would see, so you kept your eyes low. 

"I can project myself into someone else's body. It’s like I take the wheel of their body and they are in the backseat. They can still see and hear what’s happening and when I get out, they remember everything. They just don’t know it was me.” You paused, trying to see if you missed anything. “Oh, and I can hear their thoughts and access their memories too. That’s pretty much it.”

“So you can possess anyone?” Andrew obviously didn’t like Diego’s tone despite it being a legitimate question. 

“As far as I know, yes. But I’ve not used my power much and I would never use my power on you guys. I’m not dumb.” 

Diego lifted his hands in the air in surrender even though his face clearly showed that he didn’t believe you. Klaus' way of watching you, elbows on his knees, eyes reduced to slits, a hand under his chin, set off alarms in your head. A stupid comment was coming your way. “Sooo. How is it to have, ya know, an extra appendage?” You nearly choked on your saliva at the pretty forward inquiry and your brain went blank for a second. You should have known. It was written in the sky that Klaus would get stuck at THAT fact. 

“Seriously Klaus?” Allison wasn’t impressed. Like. At all. 

You shivered at the memory of the first time you tried your power. You didn’t know what it was at the time, so you let Andrew persuade you to try it on him. The trick was, you two were kids back then and Andrew had a very tiny bladder. To top it all, you didn’t know how to get out of his body yet. “Eeeeh. J’essaye de pas y penser? Parce que c’est inconfortable pis troublant en criss.” “I try not to think about it? Because it’s really uncomfortable and fucking disturbing.” The reboot of your brain apparently forgot to change the default language from Canadian French to English, causing a chorus of what? in the room. A very familiar laugh followed suit, annoying and embarrassing at the same time. Your only comfort was found in the shape of Five’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“How long can you last into someone else’s body?” Five’s hot breath in your ear made you shiver for a totally new reason. You would have loved it if the moment hasn’t been broken.

“That’s what she said!” You were very, very close to hit someone, them being Roo or Klaus, you had no preference. Back at home, you weren’t known for your patience, quite the opposite. Your nickname wasn’t Panda for nothing. You liked to pick fights, even if it meant some black eyes at the end of the day. You tried to get up, escape the grip keeping you on your butt, with no big results. 

“I need an answer.” The serious look on his face made you stop squirming. 

“So far? An hour? A bit more? Why?”

Five nodded, a content smile on his perfect lips. His head tilted a bit to the side and he watched you like it was the first time he ever saw you. “You can stop the apocalypse.”

Andrew’s unstoppable laugh abruptly came to an end at those words. “I’m sorry. She what now?”

…………………………….

The plan was brilliant, not that you expected anything less from Five. The only issue was that you would need to take over someone’s body for way, way longer than an hour. The only way for you to do just that was to practice. And boy, did you practice. The Hargreeves way. 

You panted, the return to your original body was brutal and spontaneous. Every muscle in your body was screaming in pain, your lungs were burning and your heart was a movement away from exploding. You laid on the couch, staying as steady as possible to appease your aching frame. If it wasn’t enough, even your mind felt on fire. The multiple jumps from body to another was getting its toll on your mind and to help your cause, the ones you possessed were instructed to fight you back as much as they could. 

The Hargreeves and Andrew rotated between themselves to be your target. Undoubtedly, Diego was against it, but after some persuasion Five’s-style, he soon joined the training and damn did he fight you whenever his turn came.  

Each day you made progress, but as soon as you hit the pillow at the end of the day, you were gone for a good 14 hours to be able to function again. On the good side, you were now able to stay in a calm host for more than a day and managed to keep a hostile one for a good 10 hours. At one point, Five had instructed you to jump from a host to another one. You had shown him the middle finger as quickly as your suffering muscles allowed you, indulging to his demands nonetheless. Jumping from a person to another was difficult to say the least. You often lose focus while transferring, catapulting yourself back into your own body or the second host would immediately put you K.O. the moment you tried to push them in the back seat. 

It was safe to say that you hated these trainings. Each time you had to remind yourself why you were doing it and in the end, you made it. It took 2 whole days, but you made it. And today you mastered it.

“You last 9 hours in Luther and 7 in Klaus. That’s more than enough.” Five appeared at your side and took your hand in his, stroking the back of it slowly. You noticed said boys exiting the room to give you both some alone time. 

“No more training?” Your hoarse voice made Five frown. He leaned over you to grab something on the coffee table and as carefully as he could, he bring the water bottle to your lips. You make a last effort to take the bottle yourself, not surprised when your hands don’t move an inch. 

“No more training. Now you need to rest.” His hands slipped under your shoulders and knees and he lifted you like you weighed nothing. You so desperately wanted to stay awake, enjoy being in his arms before the last lap to stop the apocalypse began so you fought the exhaustion as much as you could. 

"You're so beautiful." His comment just above a whisper made you hide your face in the crook of his neck in self-consciousness. You were never one to like receiving compliments, always waving them off or at least say it back. The latter would have been a good option if you weren't scared of where that led you. 

"Five?" He hummed, waiting for you to continue. "What if I screw everything up?" 

Five finally reached your attributed bed, carefully setting you down on the covers before joining you. He stayed at an acceptable distance from you, so if a certain male was to pass, there shouldn't be any blood spilled. His hand went to your waist, slowly caressing the skin exposed by your misplaced shirt. 

"You won't. We trained you for this and I know you can do it. You're my soulmate after all." His signature smirk was back on his lips. His confidence relieved some of the anxiety that was slowly expanding at the back of your mind and you started to think that maybe you could do it. You could really save the world. "What do you miss the most to do? In 2019 I mean."

You furrowed in brow, deep in thoughts. You missed doing a lot of things.

"When I was a kid, once a year my parents would take us to a drive-in movie theatre. I've not done that in a long time." Five found himself reciprocating your dreamy smile. 

"It's a date then."

"What?" 

"It's a date." He repeated. "The first thing we'll do when we get back is go to that drive-in theatre, then I thought we could go stargazing at one of my favorite place." 

It was so unexpected, tears formed into your eyes in a flash despite your best efforts at repressing them. It didn't take long for Five to notice the water rolling down your cheeks, worry tainting his sharp features. 

"Shit. Is it too soon?" 

"No." The speed of your shaking head almost made you dizzy. "I'd love to go there with you." Even the radiant smile on your face couldn't stop the flow of tears cascading from your eyes, leading Five to see them as happy tears. He smiled in return, reducing the distance between your two bodies to none as he cradled you into his chest, his face buried in your hair. 

Your mind wanted to scream at the universe. Yell for the unfairness of your predicament and for how much pain your selfishness would inevitably create. 

The events of the day got to you, your mind getting foggier and your breath steadier. As you were about to fall asleep, three little words flew to your ears, soft, almost indiscernible but pretty clear. 

"I love you."

Part 3