#since last night my stomach has been So Mad but then also gets hungry and it's like

[izzy-b-hands]

I wish my body would stop picking fights with me for just like. Doing things

[fictionalmenxyn]

--✜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬✜--

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader (established situationship/friends but kinda more)

(Just a blur, not part of fic, only thing apart of the fic is the fact your brother is still Kai :) )

Warnings: language, suggestive (talking, and sound)

Summary: since the sorority house and the frat house are walking distance, why not pay a visit??

Also Rafe and reader having good chemistry and humour?!?! Also protective reader?? (Y/e/n- enemies name)

--𖦹❂❂❂𖦹--

It was a sunny day in April, you had just finished your classes for the day. It was noon, you didn’t really know what the time was till you got out of class. You looked at your phone and saw your lockscreen said ‘2:34pm’. You shrugged, you felt your stomach rumble. You thought of what to eat, you were gonna have your food later. But you wanted a snack, so you headed to a near by store.

Walking into the store, you looked around for anything appetising. That’s when you saw the fruit section. My oh my, did you feel a strong craving for those juicy looking raspberries. You grabbed a box of them, heading over to the cash register and paying the worker. Once you had put your card back into your phone case. You grabbed your raspberries and headed out the store and down the street.

Using the crosswalk, you crossed the surprisingly quiet street. You knew some of the girls had their boyfriends over, from last night. You definitely did not want to chance walking in and hearing them from the foyer. So you looked around, thinking of an idea. That’s when you saw the frat house. You mumbled to yourself “bingo.”

You walked past the sorority house and walked to the end of the street, to the frat house. You walk down the path and to the front door. You knock on the door, no answer. You rang the ring doorbell, you smile and lean down to its level. You speak to the doorbell “hello wonderful people, are any of you home??”

A familiar voice replied “only Rafe and Top are home, go in if you want.” You smiled at your brother’s response. “Alright, thanks Kai, bye!” You opened the front door and walk in. Closing the door behind you. You walked around the place looking for any sign of life.

You headed upstairs, you hear Topper and you’d assume his hook up from last night. You pull a cringed face, you look in the other direction towards the end of the hall. You smile and walk down, towards Rafe’s room.

You knock on the door and open it a little, “hello?? Rafe?? You in here??” The door opened widely. There he was, just in sweatpants and socks. You looked up at him “hey.” He smiled “what’s up?” “Company??” He chuckled and stepped to the side “so you’ve come to me for company?? Thought the girls were done with class by now too?”

You walk into the room, slinging your backpack on the floor at the end of his bed. “I didn’t wanna chance hearing them with their boyfriends… but then again I just heard Top with his hook up.” Rafe laughed. “Yeah they’ve been going at it for a while.” He walks over and sits on the bed “what’s with the raspberries??”

“Felt hungry… want one?”

“Sure.”

You gasp “I said one, bitch! Not a fucking handful”

“Hey! Watch who you’re calling bitch, hoe.”

You gasp “watch your mouth, Rafe Cameron.”

“You watch yours!!”

You both stared at each other, then you Topper’s hook up moan loudly. You both burst out laughing.

Once your laughing died down, Rafe rested his back against the headboard. As you laid on your stomach, the box of raspberries in front of you.

Rafe asked “so what do you wanna talk about? How was your classes??” You huffed “honestly?? Alright, it was the girl in my class that pissed me off.” Rafe smirked “ooo is this drama??” You shrug “fucking could be.” Rafe’s eyebrow raised “could be?” You nodded “if she keeps running her mouth…”

Rafe was intrigued, Y/n didn’t get mad often over drama, something must be up.

“Go head, spill it all…”

You sighed “so this girl, Y/e/n-”

He interrupted “what the fuck has she done now?!”

You chuckle “well, she kept staring at me in class and whispering… but sometimes she’d talk a little louder so I could hear…”

“What was she saying??”

You continued “she was saying how-” you did your best impression of the pick me girl you hated “oh my god, you know at last night party, you’d never guess who I made out with… Rafe, can you believe it.” You playfully shivered and cringed at your mind replaying the memory. Rafe smirked “oh is that so? She said that?”

You nodded “yeah she fucking said that, she also said” you mimicked the girl again “oh, he also gave me his snap, said he wants me to go to the frat house and said to bring condoms.” You roll your eyes at the memory of her saying that.

Rafe laughs, “she fucking said that?! Ahaha!” You looked at him with a grin as you popped another raspberry into your mouth.

Rafe looks at you, “princess, you know I don’t have her snap, or ever made out with her right, and that I don’t plan on getting anywhere near that fucking girl…”

You nodded “oh I know, but she still pisses me off, acting like you’re hers and shit… pisses me off.”

Rafe smirked at that ‘acting like you’re hers.’

“Oh yeah? And did you say anything?? I know you’d probably say something to piss her off to…”

You smirk “oh I did.” “What did you say??” You smiled and answered “I said ‘oh I wouldn’t worry, Rafe and I had a lot of funny after the party was over.” Rafe grinned “oh yeah? All we did was cuddle while I was drunk.” You chuckled “yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” Rafe grinned. Were you getting jealous??? Of course you were.

Rafe asked “so whose am I then?” You shrugged playfully “anyone but hers, wouldn’t waste your breath on her…”

Rafe smirked “you’re pulling a me, right now.” You raised an eyebrow. He continued “jealous, princess, are you jealous??” “Pfft no, fuck off, I’m not jealous.” “Oh I think you are…”

You roll your eyes, you throw the empty box into the trash can near his bedroom door. You look at him “you plan on having any girls over today?” “No? The fuck?”

You smiled “just curious, Rafey.”

He smiled. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

You replied “I don’t feel like going back to the sorority house tonight…” he replied “oh is this your silent way of asking to sleepover?” You nodded. He grinned “magic word?” You clasped your hands together and playfully mocked “oh pretty please, Rafey, please let me stay over!”

He laughed and playfully flicked your forehead, you swatted his hand. Rafe replied “magic word is abracadabra, but I guess… I just have to accept your pretty face, huh?” You roll your eyes. “Hey! That’s my saying!.”

He smirked, pulling you into his lap. He spoke “anyways… if you’re spending the night, and you’re still jealous of-” “I’m not jealous…” “sure you not, sweetheart… but I still think you should have a reminder of who is my favourite girl…” you smirked “touché, Cameron….”

--𖦹❂❂❂𖦹--

[im-a-king-baby]

I love the laura bonus ficlet! Do you maybe can write about her thoughts of when she found out that it was Wilhelm who was there with Simon in Bjärstad?

Thank you for loving Laura! (The previous Laura ficlet is here to give context)

Also for the reblogs, this is a bonus ficlet from my longer YR fic Everybody Loves You Now!

This picks up from slightly later in the conversation in the car between Simon and Laura.

Laura considers her next question for all of thirty seconds before going with her gut. “Is ‘Fuck this Motherfucker’ about Candace?”

Simme laughs. She made Simme laugh! There's a little buzz of pride in her stomach. “Is that what people think? You guys know I didn’t write it, right?”

“I know, but you said you always try to have a concept in mind when you sing, to make the songs about something.”

He gives a little nod, acknowledging her point. “True. I guess it’s about Candace a lot.” He shrugs. “But one time it was definitely about this stretch of highway we’d been on the night before that was so full of potholes -”

“Atlanta to Nashville,” she says, instinctively, like this is some Simme trivia game and not just her knowing a weird number of facts about his actual life. “Sorry. I just… I saw the video.”

She glances sideways at him again. He looks amused rather than mad, and he hasn’t refused to answer any of her questions yet so she kind of has to. “Can I ask… Who do you think about when you sing the love songs?”

“Wilhelm.”

There’s no hesitation to it. No equivocations, no questioning. Just the name, said so softly that it takes her a moment to connect it to the reality of Crown Prince Wilhelm who gives speeches on Year with the Royal Family and gets photographed in suits hugging babies and opening hospitals.

It’s a weird crossing of streams, realising The Crown Prince is a person and there are people he dated in high school who say his name like it’s something precious they want to keep hold of.

But like, that was four years ago. And Simme hasn’t even been back to Sweden since. “Still?” she finds herself asking.

“Yeah.” He’s looking out the window, at the shadows of trees in the darkness. “He’s the only… there’s never been anyone else.”

There have been four years of constant wall to wall news coverage of Simme with this popstar or that actor or this reality TV star. Simme laughing off his high school relationship with the Prince of Sweden like it was nothing at all. “I thought… I mean we all heard about Alfonso…”

He laughs something bitter lingering at the edges to it. “I thought it was a marketing stunt, he thought it was true love. We didn’t last.”

“But you and Wilhelm are still…”

“No,” he says. “We’re not.” His fingers drum against the door handle. “Can you pull over? Just for a minute. I need to do something.”

*

She’s at that point where she’s basically awake but is refusing to admit it, nestled down into the covers trying to avoid opening her eyes, half thinking that if she does everything that happened last night is going to turn out to be a wild dream and she’ll be back in Gothenburg about to wake up and drive to Stockholm to meet Stan and see the show.

Then there’s a gentle knock on the door and an unmistakable voice says, “Hey? Can I come in?” and Laura opens her eyes to a closet-sized bedroom with posters of horses on the walls.

She’d found a nightshirt to sleep in that falls all the way down to her knees, so she’s decent enough to sit up and say, “Okay?”

Simme steps into the room. He’s changed into a purple hoodie, but otherwise he looks much the same. Like he hasn’t slept or showered since he dug out a silk pillowcase from the depths of the linen cupboard. His eyes catch on the horse posters, lingering a moment too long before he looks down at her. “There’s lunch. If you’re hungry.”

She wants to ask ‘are you okay?’ but his eyes keep darting back to the walls, his hands are twitching and he had to pull over multiple times so he could snort a powder that she’s really hoping was not cocaine so she’s not sure she’s ready for the answer.

Also now he’s mentioned food, she’s realising she’s starving. “Sure.”

He nods, takes a step back so she can stand up and then leads her back down the tiny hallway, past family photos that she resists the urge to stop and peer at, and into the kitchen where there are two strangers setting the table and one of them is Crown Prince Wilhelm.

She lets out a noise that might be a yelp, starts a, “You’re-” but thankfully cuts herself off before she can say something completely idiotic like ‘you’re here’ or ‘you’re the prince’ or ‘you’re taller than you look on TV.’

It turns out there is a difference between knowing there is something going on between Simme and the Prince and actually seeing said prince in the flesh wearing Simme’s white hoodie instead of a neatly pressed suit and setting out plates on the kitchen table.

Only the hoodie was oversize on Simme but clearly fits Prince Wilhelm just fine so that’s… a thing.

“Hello,” she says, trying to get back to normal only this isn’t normal because he’s a prince so like. “I mean, your majesty.”

Prince Wilhelm smiles. Up close, it’s the same kind of smile Simme keeps giving her, the one he seems able to paste over whatever he’s really feeling in the moment. “Your majesty is my mother,” he says. “Call me Wilhelm.”

Which of course just reminds her of being in the car the night before, the way Simme’s voice softened on Wilhelm’s name. And Simme had said they weren’t still… but Wilhelm is here, in this middle-of-nowhere town. Not Simme’s team, not Candace, just Wilhelm.

A good half of the internet would pay a large fortune for a glimpse of what she's seeing now. The way Wilhelm's eyes track Simme's progress through the room, the way Simme's whole body seems angled towards the Prince even when they're not interacting at all.

"Have you told anyone you're here?" Wilhelm's bodyguard asks her.

She hasn't. And as Wilhelm and Simon both reach for a plate at the same time and flinch back a moment before their fingers brush, she knows she never will.

[thefishesbite]

Diary entry: 10/29/2024 || Depression season

My depression is coming back. My mental health is worsening. I don’t know why I had this sudden tonal switch with my feelings, but I can’t seem to shake it. Normally, I fight depression by going outside and hanging around friends– somehow, even doing that, I’ve doomed myself to another bout of depression. I leave my house every day, other than Sundays, and am always on the phone with friends– so even if I don’t see them physically all day, I’m always talking with them. Normally, even doing something as simple as leaving my room for two hours every day would save me from a depression slump– but even with me leaving the house completely for hours on end (either for school or to hang out with friends, sometimes both) and always interacting with people, my depression has begun to consume me.

Recently, I’ve been unable to sleep well. Each night I’ve stayed up, scrolling mindlessly while lying to my friends that I’m going to bed soon. I’ve spent hours rolling around in my covers, mindlessly rotting away in my own body in hopes of not falling asleep. I didn’t want the entertainment to end, to have to wake up early in the morning– a difficult task, worsened by the fact that I have recently begun to take showers before school starts. On the same hand, I’ve begun to sleep in as late as possible– trying to cling to any unconsciousness I could. Born from a fear of what's to come if I wake up and wanting to stay asleep forever so that I don't have to see the day. I’ve begun to take baths every other day, instead of everyday, mostly doing so because I have to. If I could, I would stay unshowered forever– since waking up early is exhausting. I don’t wanna face the day so I’d rather be a mindless zombie or asleep. I just can’t stand being a functional human being anymore, but I try my best to stay functional for the purpose of friends, family and school.

I’m also struggling to do school work. I’m so mentally and physically exhausted that I’m struggling to do work. I’ve been spending more and more time at school scrolling, even though I’m always carrying a book, because work and reading are too exhausting. I’m keeping up, finding time to do work even if I don’t want to, but I’m no longer as ahead of the curve as I once was. I’m trying to force myself back into how I was before, but I just can’t do it yet. I used to work at every possible second, leading to me finishing work easily and quickly– now I do it when I feel like it, which is not as often as I would hope. I have more assignments piled up than I used to. I’m keeping up but I still feel like a failure.

My already horrible eating habits are at risk of getting even worse now too. I’ve begun to get too embarrassed to eat, or even mention to someone that I’m hungry, so I’m sitting around with an empty stomach. I’ve been watching calories for no reason, portioning food smaller than it needs to be and refusing to eat out right. My friends have shown concern a lot, but I feel so embarrassed eating– even if they ask me to eat. I’m too embarrassed and anxious– I can’t seem fat around them, so I try to limit eating (even if everyones eating). One time, I ate some fries and a milkshake– in response, ate breakfast the next morning then starved for 24 hours. I only ate three meals in two days– one of which I was forced to eat. I can’t imagine myself eating. It’s beginning to feel nice to starve myself again.

I’m also increasingly emotional. Today I got angry at a friend for not caring for himself (I think I was jealous because he was willingly not taking care of himself while I just can’t) then got sad– which happens every time I get angry, even if for something trivial. When I get mad, I go from a high of anger to a low of sadness. The sadness stuck around for two hours. I cried today because we had an argument about it. The last few days I’ve been easily irritated, easily saddened, just easily emotional in general. I shouldn’t be swinging this violently, from one extreme to the next– but something is happening with my mental health and I can’t control it. I’m trying to control my actions, though. Even then, I’ve lashed out more often. When someone irritates me, I used to be able to ignore it– at least mostly– but I’ve begun yelling more often in response to my anger.

I’ve been struggling to even get out of bed. I have issues doing important things like plugging in my computer for school, putting my lunch container in the sink and even drinking water. I can’t peel myself away from the covers, too comfortable doing nothing to actually move. I can barely move sometimes, forced to inch myself up because I’m struggling mentally. I have to force myself up, though it’s becoming less and less successful. My bed’s so comfortable and I’m so tired. I can’t bother to get up.

On phone calls with my friends, I used to pay a lot of attention to what people were saying or doing (if they were streaming them playing a video game or something). Now, I end up doom scrolling because I’m becoming increasingly uninterested. I’ve begun to find calls exhausting, even if I’m just sitting in silence scrolling as someone plays a video game in the background. I can’t even find as much joy in talking with people as I did. But, I can’t leave because I'm worried I’m missing out on something fun. On something interesting. So I stay, doom scroll and work myself up into another exhaustion slump. I don’t even talk. I don’t even interact. The call is nothing but background noise. I can’t miss it anyways.

[believinghurts]

Their Daughter

Chapter 5

Author’s note: I use Grammarly to fix my mistakes, but there could still be some so sorry for that. Also, I am getting back into writing and am hoping to have a few more works out soon! Please reblog, like, or comment feedback is appreciated.

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: None? Sirius being a d*ck? Maybe language, but I don’t think so.

Regulus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stroked his niece's hair. He was mad at his brother for basically throwing away the only good thing that had ever come from the Black family. Sirius was too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of him. As children, Sirius often told Regulus that he was their family's favorite and that it bothered him, but if he knew what it was like to be less loved then how can he love Harry more than Ali? He understood that Harry was Sirius's Godson, but couldn’t he love Ali and Harry equally? If Sirius made the effort maybe Ali and the other children could even be friends. His heart ached from the emotional battle that Ali was going through right now. Even if Sirius didn’t see it, he and Remus did. Ali’s light was dimmer than before and when she was lighting up again after finding out Sirius never came for her, Sirius just had to go and snuffed it out.

Carefully sliding out from under Ali and placing a pillow under her head Regulus left the room. He shut the door behind him casting a locking spell so she wouldn’t be bothered. He needed to speak with Remus first before doing anything. They needed to decide what to do about Ali. As much as Regulus wanted to spend time with her before she went back to school he didn’t want her to be this upset anymore. He walked into the study to find Remus and Nymphadora sitting near the fireplace.

“How is she?” Nymphadora blurted the question as soon as she saw her cousin. Remus had owled her after Ali had gone to her room. The older sister in her wanted to go up to Sirius and give him a piece of her mind, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“She’s asleep for now. All the fighting has exhausted her. I honestly don’t know what to do. I want her here, this is her home, but if Sirius doesn’t stop acting like the brut that he is it is going to hurt her more. Speaking of Sirius, where is he? It’s quiet.” Regulus flopped down on the chair across from Remus and Nymphadora raking a hand through his hair. His worry for Ali was causing him a headache. On one hand, he wanted to send Ali to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the remainder of summer, but on the other, he wanted to hold her close and have her stay in her home where she belonged.

“Sirius left with Harry after you went upstairs. He hasn’t been home since. The Weasleys stepped out to Diagon Alley to get the kids stuff for school.” Remus replied. He was secretly thankful that the house was mainly empty. This way at least Ali could come down if she felt like it without the chance of someone bothering her. Remus was having the same thoughts as Regulus about keeping Ali at home virus's sending her to the Manor. He just wanted his niece to be happy. The hope that he had of Sirius and Ali having the father/daughter relationship was gone. If only Remus could get Sirius to open his eyes to the pain he was causing to the girl, but Sirius was nothing if not stubborn.

“I think I am going to write to Cissa and see if she can keep Ali for the rest of summer. If that’s what it takes for her to be happy then so be it. We can see her off at the -“

“I don’t want to leave,” Ali’s voice interrupted. “I want to stay here with you. Please don’t make me leave. I can handle it, I promise.”

Ali knew that she and Regulus were going to have to talk about the fact that she called him dad, but that was a private conversation. Right now she needed to convince the adults in the room that she didn’t need to leave. She could take Sirius. Yes the words that he had said hurt her and the actions he did tonight furthered that hurt in her heart, but she was done. She didn’t owe him anything, and it was clear she knew that he didn’t want to be her father. She had meant what she said to Regulus. He was her father in all the ways that counted. He loved her unconditionally, was always there for her, and protected her.

She went and sat on the couch in between Nymphadora and Remus who wrapped an arm around her pulling her close to his chest. “It might be best if you went and stayed for the rest of the summer at the Manor, Al. This isn’t good for you mentally. We all can see how drained you are.”

“No, this is my home. I can handle it. I have you all plus the older Weasleys and Fleur. You'll protect me and if I need to get away for a little bit I’ll owl Blaise or Draco to go to Diagon Alley or something. I want to spend time with you. Times are hard right now and you never know when you are going to lose someone and I would like to have as much time with each of you just in case.”

Regulus leaned forward taking Ali’s hand in his, “Nothing, and I mean nothing is going to happen to us. I love you more than you could ever imagine and if you want to stay here you can.” Ali smiles brightly at that before Regulus cut her off, “but you have to tell me, Remus, or Severus, if anything happens. And you have to come out of your room. I am not having you locking yourself away again. Got it?”

Ali pounced on Regulus, hugging his neck tight. She was excited to spend some more time with her family. She had meant what she said about never knowing when something was going to happen. Wizards had been disappearing all over London and she was genuinely scared something was going to happen to her loved ones. She was going to make it a point to take plenty of photos and make enough memories to last a lifetime the next couple of weeks.

Regulus held his niece tight, fighting back the tears when she whispered, “Thanks, Dad,” into his ear. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but this was one title he was going to wear proudly.

Remus’s voice interrupted the moment, “wait for a second, why are you going to owl Blaise? We have an agreement, young lady, no boys till you're thirty!”

Ali’s giggle was music to those in the room with her, and for the first time that summer they all saw Ali smile at home the brightest she had since everyone arrived.

————

The rest of the day was eventful which was something that everyone was thankful for. Nymphadora left shortly after spending some time with Ali since she had something to attend to with Moody, so that left Regulus, Ali, and Remus to watch the Star Wars movies in Ali’s room. Kreacher brought them snacks while they made a fort on the floor. Ali was incredibly content laying on the mounds of pillows in between her Uncles. When she was younger they would have movie nights like this once a month until she started Hogwarts. Even then she and her friends carried on the tradition in the boy's dorm since Draco was often present at the ones hosted at home. She wished that she could have Draco over now, but knew that if she brought him here then everyone in the house would throw a fit about it, maybe it was something to bring up to Regulus later.

Molly called them all down for dinner shortly after the second film ended. Leaving the mess on the floor the trio made their way downstairs with Ali trailing behind her Uncles. She could feel her nerves spike the closer she got to the dining room. She thought about excusing herself stating she wasn’t hungry, but the loud growl in her stomach gave her hunger away. Everyone had already sat down beside Harry and Sirius when they got into the room. Regulus pulled the seat out next to him for his niece. Fleur shot her a smile when she sat down by her uncle with Charlie on her other side. At least she was sitting near someone who didn’t hate her.

Chatter and the sounds of forks on plates filled the room as everyone got their fill of Molly’s meatballs and onion sauce. Everyone broke off into separate conversations. Remus, Regulus, and Arthur talking about the Ministry, the younger Weasleys, and Hermione talking about Quidditch, Bill and Fleur about their upcoming wedding, and Charlie and Ali talking about his work in Romania. “What are you planning on doing after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ali shot a glance over at Remus who was doing a terrible job of disguising his eavesdropping on the duo. “I am thinking about becoming a professor. I like creatures obviously so I was thinking something along those lines, but I also like Herbology. So maybe that. I just know I want to teach.”

Charlie shot her a grin. “Have you thought about where? I know Hogwarts has Sprout for Herbology and Hagrid was doing Care of Magical Creatures, but you still have three more years of school so maybe they’ll need someone by the time you're done.”

Ali shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she wanted to leave England and travel for a bit but knew that if she brought it up now it would be a fight or something so she bit her tongue. “Maybe.”

The noise came to a halt when the door slammed open in the living room. Everyone hopped to their feet, wands at the ready. It felt like hours had passed before the intruder walked through the door. “Sirius! Harry! Merlin, you scared us all.”

“Sorry, it’s raining hard and we were in a rush to get back home.” Sirius shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone retook their seats beside Milly who served Harry and Sirius. Ali tried her hardest to keep from looking at the latest duo that entered, not wanting to cause any more trouble or to give Sirius a reason to lash out at her.

Dinner passed rather quickly, conversations flowed in their small groups. Charlie had gone with Fleur and Bill on a scouting mission shortly after eating, while Fred and George worked on new products for their shop. Ali was in her head thinking about asking to go to meet Pansy in the coming days to look at a new book shop. Pansy wasn’t much of a reader but was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house. She was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up Molly was smiling softly at her while handing her a letter in a dark blue envelope. She instantly knew who the letter was from since only one person used that kind of envelope when writing her.

“This came for you, dear, when you were with your uncles. I didn't want to bother you then I almost forgot just now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Ali smiled at the kind woman. Despite her feelings towards most of the Weasley children, their parents were quite nice.

Molly patted her cheek before walking off. Ali started to rip the top off when she got Regulus’s eye and he winked at her. He knew who the letter was from having met the boy a few times already. Her cheeks flushed and continued to do so while reading it.

Dear Supernova,

I hope you are surviving the dreadfulness that is upon you right now with all the people in your house. Yes, Draco told me what was going on yesterday when I finally threatened to out his crush if he didn’t explain why we hadn’t been seeing you a lot this summer. I have to say I am quite hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. Best friends I thought. Just joking, but seriously you could have told me about him and I wouldn't have said a word to anyone.

I miss you, Supernova. We’ve only got to see each other once this summer and we both know when school starts you will have a book shoved in front of your face in the first three minutes. Could we get together sometime this week? It has been awful at home and if I have to hear Draco's voice one more time without you there to tell him off for being annoying I may throw myself off the astronomy tower.

Your uncle may not agree, but you could come to stay at mine for a night. Mother agreed to it as long as Regulus does and we have separate rooms. If you can't, maybe I can come to you? I don’t really care what the redheads have to say about me being there so don’t worry about that. We have much to catch up on; like the fact that you got Headgirl and also didn’t write and tell me. I had to find that little tidbit out from Parkinson's. Don’t worry we’ll catch up whether that's soon or on the train.

love,

Zabini

Ali felt a pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t meant to forget to fill Blaise in on her life but it had been so crazy recently she hadn’t got to write anyone much. In all the truth no one knew that she had gotten Headgirl. She had gotten the letter from Flitwich a few days after the Weasley’s arrived and completely forgot. Although she told her Uncles she didn’t want to go anywhere spending some time with Blaise sounded nice. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off she looked up to find Regulus and Remus looking at her with amused smiles on their faces.

“What’s you got there, Ali?” Remus asked, causing her cheeks to flame red. She wasn’t scared to say that she wanted to hang out with a boy. She did it all the time whether it was Blaise, Theo, or Draco; it was more to do with the fact that she was about to ask to spend the night at a boys' house. Even if they were going to be in separate rooms and they had fallen asleep cuddled together weeks prior at the Malfoys, something none of her Uncles knew, it was going to be a little fight to get Remus to agree as he made the ‘no dating till you’re thirty’ rule when she was five and asked for a boyfriend for Christmas.

Looking around she noticed all attention was on her even if the other adults in the room were making it seem like they weren’t listening while the children openly gawked. “Uhm,” she was cut off by Severus stepping into the room. Great, now she had to face all three Uncles. Where were Dora and Cissa when she needed them?

Severus hugged her quickly before taking a place by Regulus. “Who's the letter from Ali?” He asked her letting her know there was no getting out of it and that she was going to have to spill the beans.

“It’s from Blaise,” A look of amusement passed Regulus’s face, making her think that he knew what was in the letter already while Remus looked like he was going to snatch the letter out of her hands and read it himself if she didn’t hurry up.

“And what possibly could it say to have your cheeks looking like the inside of Gryffindor common room?” Regulus teased further.

She coughed trying to get her nerves resealed. “He was saying that we need to catch up before school starts, and invited me to come and stay with him and Mrs. Zabini for a night this week.”

Remus grunted while Regulus smiled. Ali had to hide a giggle as she noticed all the other mouths in the room had dropped to the floor. Ali knew that except for Hermione and Harry the Weasley’s never stayed or had anyone else with them.

“Can I, please? His mother said we would have separate rooms and she will be there as well as the house-elves. We only got to see one another once this summer. He said if I can’t he could come here, but honestly, I think the first option is better. Please?” She pulled out her best puppy eyes and pouty lip. She was not above begging for it but didn’t want to do so with everyone staring at her.

Regulus looked over at Remus. Ali could see the silent conversation going on between them. Regulus’s head inclined slightly toward Ali which she hoped to Merlin was a good thing. Remus looked back at his niece with a look in his eye she couldn’t read. “Rosalynn said you’ll have separate rooms?” Ali nodded her head so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. “And you’ll stay in them?” Once again she nodded, although she knew that they more than likely would be in the family room till late hours in the night. He looked back at Regulus, “you have no problems with her going?”

“No, I already knew about it. Rosalynn wrote about two days ago. If she wants to go, that's fine. You know Rosalynn will look after her as she does Blaise. And the Heavens know that boy would jump in front of the Knight Bus for Ali.” Regulus chuckled at Ali's shocked expression.

“Y-you knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ali struggled to get the words out.

“Rosalynn said Blaise wanted to ask you. She was just giving me a heads up, knowing how Remus is with boys and you. You know we talked quite often, Als.” Regulus winked at her.

“You may go,” Remus stated. She was shocked she didn’t have to put up more of a fight.

“WHAT?” Sirius shrieked. He knew that Regulus would let her go to the Death Eaters house, but Remus? He thought he could count on his ‘friend’ to at least say no. “You’re letting her go to the Death Eaters house? AGAIN? Who's also a boy and staying the night? Are you mad?”

Remus looked at Sirius with disdain, “No I am not. She is a good girl and Blaise has been her friend for years. Rosalynn loves her as much as we do and would never let anything happen. And for God's sake quit calling everyone a Death Eater.”

“Outrageous.”

“Sirius, you have no say in what she does. You gave that up last night. Ali is a good girl who makes good choices. Not only that but she also deserves a little something since she got Headgirl this year, don’t you think?” Regulus smirked as he saw the Granger girl's face fall.

“You got Headgirl?” Hermione whispered to Ali with disbelief lacing her voice.

“Yeah, I did. Draco got Headboy I believe, but it may be Theo. I haven’t asked yet.”

“Why do you and Draco get Head of Houses? Why not Hermione and -“ Ali cut her dear Godbrother off.

“And who? You? Ron? Why would any of you get Head of Houses with all the trouble you bring in? Sneaking out, stealing things, picking fights. We do have the highest marks in most classes as well as treat others equally unlike the likes of you.”

If looks could kill Ali would be dead three times over. In all honesty, she kinda felt bad for the younger Weasley boy seeing as all of his older brothers, bar Fred and George had been Headboy. But then she thought about the trouble he and his friends had caused her and her friends as well as others over the years. Harry preached about equality among the houses but she had witnessed many times when younger Slytherins were picked on by Gryiffndors. Hufflepuffs generally didn't have any problems with the other houses so long as everyone was being just. Ravenclaws tended to keep to themselves unless it really involved them. Whereas Slytherins preferred to stand up to those picking on other Slytherins especially the younger ones. Slytherins were always made out to be the bullies when in general if you got to know them people would notice that they are a lot more than what their parents used to be.

Ally had heard the stories of how mean James and Sirius were to those in Slytherin even if they never did anything to them. She believed in harmless fun could be had pulling pranks, but tricking someone into going to a place where a werewolf was was downright cruel. She had no doubts in her mind that James and Sirius were once good people like her Uncle Remus is now, but seeing as Sirius still acts like a child those doubts were becoming known.

“I just think that Slytherins shouldn’t be Head of House when all you will do is favor your own, and treat everyone else like dirt,” Ron stated.

“Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing?!” Molly exclaimed.

“It’s alright Mrs. Weasey. I am used to hearing such things come from them and others in their house,” Ali looked Ron in the eyes, “You seem to forget that I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin. I do not favor anyone and will not when I start Head Girl duties but know this. I will give you as many detentions as you deserve if you are caught bullying, harassing, belittling, any of the other houses. You may think that Gryiffndors are the bravest of the houses and maybe you are in some ways, but you are cowardly in others. Maybe some Slytherins are as bad as you make them seem, but Harry,” she turned her head slightly to the side, “you seem to forget just which house Peter Pettigrew was in when he was the one who betrayed your parents. And Regulus was in Slytherin but seems to be more loyal to his friends and family than that rat was.”

“It seems that Alianova has given you all something to think about as you're getting ready for bed,” Molly stated looking at all the children present in the room. Her face grew red when she saw that none of them had moved a muscle. “Now.”

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, jumped from their seats and booked it to the stairs scared of Mrs. Weasley’s wrath. At some point, Charlie, Fluer, and Bill came back from scouting. Charlie ruffled Ali’s hair causing her to grin. “Good job, kid. You’ll make a great Head Girl.” Bill and Fleur nodded in agreement. “Nothing happened while we were out. We’ll give a full debrief tomorrow, but we will be heading to bed as well. Good night everyone.”

Molly walked to Ali and pulled her up out of her chair before placing both hands on Ali’s pale cheeks. “Don’t you worry, dear, I will be talking with all of them in the morning. You made a lot of valid points, and I for one am proud that you are Head Girl.”

She kissed her forehead before taking her husband to go to bed after waving her wand to get the kitchen clean once again. Arthur offered Ali a small smile before disappearing behind his wife. Sirius scoffed at the behavior which everyone heard but chose to ignore.

Ali turned to her three Uncles, waiting for the answer about going to her friends, and the scene that just played out in the kitchen.

“I am proud of you as well, Alianova. You have done excellent, and I know it is Remus and Regulus' decision about going to Blaises’, but I see no problem with it. I will stay in the guest room. Come get me if you need me. Good night, Ali.” He hugged her tightly, making Ali tear up slightly at the thought of Servus being proud of her. It also made her giddy at the thought of rubbing it in Draco’s face since Severus is his Godfather and never said such a thing to him.

Remus followed after Servus, wrapping his niece in a bear hug around her shoulders. The height difference amusing Regulus to no end seeing as Ali only came about midway in Remus’s chest. “You may go as long as it’s okay with Reg, and you stay in separate rooms. I am a little mad though that you didn’t tell me yourself about getting Head Girl, but I am still incredibly proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do, not even Harry.” The last part was whispered in her ear. He kissed her forehead, before heading to his room.

With the three Blacks being the only ones left in the room. “I don’t think you should go.” Sirius’s voice was venomous as he thought about his only child, his legacy, spending time with Death Eaters.

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you think isn’t it?” Regulus smirked at his older brother. He was not going to take this away from his child. “Ali, you may go so long as you stay in your separate rooms whenever the two of you decide to go to sleep because I know from having all your mates over it will be late.” He walked to Ali cradling her freckled face in his hands. “I am so proud to call you my daughter. Even after all that you have been through in your life you have still managed to form your own beliefs and thoughts as well as stand up for them. You deserve Head Girl over anyone else, and hopefully, you get to share it with one of your friends.”

Ali dove into her Uncle's chest. Tears welling up into her eyes at the thought that he really did think of her as his own even if she already knew it. It was nice to hear out loud. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I love you, dad.” She kissed his cheek before heading to her room to write Blaise.

Sirius felt his anger sore to new heights when he heard Ali call Regulus dad. He had enough courtesy to wait till she was out of earshot before grounding out, “We need to talk, Regulus.”

[babyboibucky]

Kinda Like It When You Lie

Pairing: Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Summary: You discover the reason why Chris has been lying to you about his whereabouts.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: le smut, le angst, le toxicity but a sorta happy ending I guess???

A/N: I tagged everyone in my Everything Bucky tag list because why not lmfao okay but no, I’m not sure how often I will be writing fics for Seb’s other characters so I won’t be having a separate tag list for that yet. If this isn’t something you’re not interested in, feel free to ignore skskks

I am dedicating this piece to @lookiamtrying​ who got so pissed off that her mans Chris got a lower vote count than Mickey (prior to the release of Monday) when I did my character fic survey lmfao ilysm, Mina!!! This was also inspired by FLETCHER’s If You’re Gonna Lie

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chris kissed you as if it was his last day on earth. It made your insides twist in a blissful way, the kind of kiss that literally took your breath away and made your head spin. You could feel your lungs burning up from the lack of oxygen and yet you didn’t want to pull away.

All you could focus on was how his lips moved against yours, how his tongue danced around your mouth as if he owned you. And in that moment, he really did.

You got lost in Chris— his taste, his rough palms against the smooth expanse of your skin, his weight on top of you as he pressed you down against the cheap motel bed.

It wasn’t until you tried to touch Chris that you realized he had restrained your wrists with something cold and hard. Pulling away from his fervent kiss, you glanced up and saw that he had both of your wrists handcuffed against the headboard.

Tugging at your wrists, you let out a chuckle. “What’re ya, a cop?” you asked.

Chris breathed out through his nose, “Kinda.” he rasped out before taking your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging at it before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and opened up your legs to fully accommodate Chris’ huge build, his pelvis thrusting against your clothed core making you whine against his lips.

“You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” you asked playfully, tilting your neck to the side as you allowed Chris to nip at your skin, his thick beard scratching you much to your delight.

He pulled back to look at your eyes, “Only for stealin’ my heart, darling.”

-

What you thought was a one-night stand turned into something more. Not that you were complaining, in fact, you’d quickly fallen head over heels for Chris. How could you not when he was the most honest man you’d met in your entire life?

After that first night, Chris told you everything about him and his job. An FBI agent who needed to go undercover as a drug dealer in order to infiltrate a huge drug syndicate. He had been undercover for a while now and it was consuming, he said. That’s how you found him drinking alone at the bar you worked at.

“You planning to consume our entire stock of beers or what?”

Chris let out a breathy chuckle as you placed two more bottles of beer on his table. The man had been in the bar for hours now, drowning his miseries away since his arrival. You noticed him as soon as he sauntered into the bar— all beard and tattooed muscles on display with the denim vest he wore.

“I’m sorry.” he huffed out and you were surprised at how soft spoken he was despite his tough exterior. “Work’s been stressing me out, is all.” He explained with a firm smile.

You couldn’t help but return the gesture, “Thought you were stressin’ over your girl.” You smirked.

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “Got no girl to come home to.” He said, voice an octave lower and a little bit rougher.

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Man like you can easily find a solution to that.” You said and winked before heading back behind the bar, swaying your hips a little more than the usual.

By the time you reached the bar, you looked back at Chris and caught him staring with a certain look in his eyes.

The same look he would give you whenever you get mad at him for coming home late. The look that always won you over no matter what.

-

“You said you’d be home by eight, Chris. That was four hours ago.”

Chris rubbed his face and dropped his keys on the tray by the front door. You watched him with suspecting eyes as he trudged towards you, eyes tired yet apologetic.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. Went out with the guys, you know how it is.” he said and tried to reach out to you but you were quick to step back.

“Could’ve texted me, y’know? I made dinner, your favorite. Got cold and decided to throw it in the bin when you didn’t show up.” you said, shaking your head in disappointment and turned around to retreat back into the bedroom.

Chris caught you and gripped your waist in his strong hands, preventing you from further walking away. He pulled your back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck as he whispered apologies into your ear.

“I’m sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you, huh?” he murmured roughly into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, make you forget my sins.” he teased, earning a soft chuckle from you.

He sucked the skin beneath your earlobe, making your knees weak and your core throb. Chris gently turned you around to face him until your eyes met his-- dark and still apologetic, you wondered why because you’d already forgiven him the moment his hands touched your skin.

Your question was immediately forgotten when Chris kissed you, tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth. His kisses were always so urgent, so hungry and feral.

He always kissed you as if it was the last time.

Clothes strewn everywhere, raspy grunts and high pitched moans, sweaty bodies moving against each other. Every single time you and Chris argued, it always ended the same way, with you giving in to his sweet words and hot touches.

A hand on your nape kept your cheek pressed down onto the mattress as Chris pounded you from behind. Laying flat on your stomach, you could feel every ridge and every vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls. Gripping the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you slightly lifted your ass up earning a harsh spank from Chris.

“You fuckin’ like it when I fuck you rough?” he growled, spanking your ass again before squeezing it into his large hand.

You whimpered at the cold sensation of the rings on Chris’ fingers, wanting it to mark your skin as soon as he was done with you. You moaned when Chris pulled back until only the tip of his hard cock remained in your tight pussy. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when he pushed your nape further into the mattress at the same time he slammed back in with such force that made you elicit a sound akin to a wail.

“Right there, Chris!” you wantonly pleaded, your drool soaking the sheets beneath you.

“I got you, baby. Gonna fuck you so good you’d forget what you were mad about.”

And forget you did, not just once, not twice. Not even thrice. Every single time Chris came home to you smelling like someone else’s perfume when he claimed to be out with his friends, you always ended up willingly forgetting about it. Chris had you wrapped around his finger and you knew it.

You knew he was lying about his whereabouts and the thing was, you chose to believe in it.

Because with each lie that slipped past his lips, came the sweetest apology followed by a promise to make you feel good and Chris always delivered.

You’d rather hear Chris’ lies than to hear his goodbye just so you can have him in your bed again and again and again.

-

The last lie you tolerated was when he forgot about your anniversary and came home the next day, all moody and grumpy. He went straight to the bathroom, mumbling about how he was tired from work and you didn’t know whether he was lying again or not.

You’d believed too many of his lies by now that you couldn’t even determine which ones were the truth and which ones weren’t.

“Happy anniversary to us, Chris. In case you forgot.” you said as soon as he got out of the shower.

Chris’ face fell, eyes refusing to meet yours from shame. He should be ashamed and so should you, because you’ve tolerated his lies for a year now and no matter how much you wanted to confront him, you always ended up forgiving him.

“Fuck.” he cursed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the buy bust operation was last night and it slipped my mind.” he said.

And there it was again, the look in his eyes that turned you into a moaning mess beneath him as soon as his lips found yours. Whenever Chris would lie, it always seemed to be so fucking worth it. Because he always fucked you senseless until you were stupid for him, enough to let him get away with his pathetic excuses.

But not tonight, because as Chris bent you in half with his cock slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you promised that this will be the last time you’d enjoy the aftermath of his lies.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more. Want this pussy to milk my cock dry, c’mon pretty girl.” he urged, slipping a hand in between your sweaty bodies, his thumb swiping at your clit until stars exploded behind your eyes.

His name was chanted out like a prayer, your lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. A few more hard thrusts and you felt Chris spill his seed into you, warm ropes of his cum painting your walls. He carefully slipped your legs off from his shoulders before laying down on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your chest as the both of you caught on your breaths.

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris turned his head to you, trying to read your face but you kept your gaze on the ceiling. Tears escaped your eyes as you laid on the bed, blinking them away when they wouldn’t stop spilling.

“I want the truth, Chris.” you added, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

The bed moved when Chris sat up, reaching for your face and turning it to wards him. Your lips were trembling, fighting back your sob. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“I don’t want your apology, Chris. I want the truth, please.” you begged.

“I can’t stay with you anymore.” he said.

You frowned and sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your naked body. “Who’s she?” you asked. “I know you’ve been seein’ someone behind my back, I want to know. Who is she? ‘nother FBI agent? Or someone you met while you were undercover?” you were more of mad than hurt now, all your suppressed emotions finally resurfacing and begging to be released.

Chris swallowed and refused to meet your gaze, “It’s...it’s not like that.” he said.

“The fuck you mean, Chris?” you asked.

There was silence for a brief moment, as if Chris was gathering up all the courage he had left in him. And then he looked at you with the same guilty, apologetic eyes again. But it was different now because you knew that there wouldn’t be anymore lies which meant no more sweet talk and no more Chris in your bed until the next morning.

“I never cheated on you.” he huffed out. “I’ve always been...with Erin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were a part of my undercover. The leader of the drug syndicate I was trying to infiltrate frequented the bar you worked at. Needed to get as much as information as I can and I easily got that when we started—”

Your hand trembled after landing a solid slap on Chris’ face. Your heart ached, your vision spun and suddenly, nothing made any sense to you anymore. All this time, you thought that was Chris was being unfaithful to you when in truth, he was cheating…with you.

Now you finally understood why he always kissed you as if it was the last time, why he looked at you with those apologetic eyes whenever he came home late, whenever he lied.

Chris told you the entire truth, that he was at the bar during an operation and not after. He manipulated you into believing that everything he told you were real, that he was a good and an honest man, that Erin was nothing but a partner at work.

“When you said you love me, was that a lie too?” you asked, voice breaking because this was too much. Everything was too much.

Chris held your face in between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks, “No. No, that wasn’t a lie. I do, I love you. As soon as the operation was done, I couldn’t say goodbye. I always said I’d tell you the truth but I couldn’t. I wish I hadn’t met you like this.” he reassured.

You pushed him away and covered your face with your hands, unable to believe that for an entire year, you’d dedicated your life and your love to someone who had been using you.

“Does she know about me?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “She does.”

You scoffed, “She fuckin’ pities me, doesn’t she? Probably told you to take your time, ‘cause the truth will fuckin’ ruin me.” you said and chuckled bitterly.

“You used me, Chris. Fuckin’ used me and made me a goddamn fool. Is Chris even your real name? Who the fuck are you?” you asked.

“I lied about everything except for two things. My name and when I said I love you.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears. You’ve finally woken up, brought yourself back to consciousness and decided to accept that Chris was never honest and that not once did he become yours.

“Liar.”

-

Picking up the pieces of your broken trust was very much like working with the shards of a broken mirror. At times you came out unscathed but for the most part, you were left wounded and bleeding and in pain.

Putting all the broken pieces back together was definitely not easy and it took you years to do so. No matter how careful you were though, the mirror was never completed. There were ugly cracks and everywhere that you couldn’t hide and there was a missing piece. But that’s alright, because you tried to put yourself back together and you weren’t perfect but at least you did your best.

The bar you started working for was quite new, which explained how busy it was even on a slow Wednesday. It wasn’t as big as the old bar you used to work at, but this was newer and catered to a more classy crowd.

No rough bikers, no FBI agents going undercover, no funny businesses.

“Two bottles of beer for table seven.” your manager called out, “Thought it’d be slow today, boy was I wrong.” she commented to which you chuckled.

Taking out two ice-cold bottles from the fridge, you weaved through the crowd and tables until you reached your destination. Placing the bottles on top of the table, you asked the customer if he wanted to order something to go with his drinks.

Taking out your notepad, you finally looked up and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. You almost didn’t recognize Chris if it weren’t for those eyes. He was no longer sporting a buzz cut and had longer locks, his beard had grown out but was well-trimmed. His tattooed arms weren’t in full display and instead of the usual denim outfits he wore, he was merely clad in a plaid, maroon button down shirt.

“Hi.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Let me guess, you’re undercover and your target is a frequent customer here.” you said.

Chris laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, “I quit from that job years ago.” he said, much to your surprise.

“You stressin’ over your girl?” you asked.

“Got no girl to come home to...anymore.” Chris replied, those damn apologetic eyes making your knees weak once again.

You rolled your eyes at him and placed your notepad back in your apron, “If you’ve nothin’ else to order, then enjoy your beer. I guess.” you said and turned around but was quickly tugged back when Chris grabbed at your wrist.

Scowling at him, you eyed his hand and then back up at his eyes. They didn’t look apologetic though, you realized, he was giving you the same look but something was different.

You just didn’t know what changed.

“I did love you.” he said. “And I still do and I want to come home to you again.” he quickly added, tightening his grip around your wrist as if he was afraid to let you go.

Surprisingly, there was not an ounce of anger left in your heart. It had been a complete three years since the incident. He left you feeling used and broken but you managed to fix yourself. Not completely, but enough to find it in your heart to forgive Chris for what he did.

“I want to believe you, I really do. But it’s hard for me to do that now.” you explained.

Chris nodded in understanding, “I know but I want to start over again. Make things right, if you’d let me. No lies this time, just me and my truth.” he said, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the inside of your wrist.

Honesty. Pure and genuine honesty— that’s what changed in the way Chris looked at you. There wasn’t any guilt in there anymore, no hidden agendas and whatnot.

Just the truth and the missing piece you never knew you needed to complete your mirror.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[luimagines]

He Accidentally Hurt You Pt. 1

Masterlist

Takes place while in the group, written as a platonic relationship.

this one got away from me entirely, so I had to split it up

Warrior

“I’m telling you, we need to head west!”

“And head straight into enemy territory? I don’t think so!”

“Wild’s right, Warrior. We can’t just sit around here and wait for them to come to us or the people of the town. We’re the only ones who can do something about it.” 

“Need I remind the both of you that we’re all tired as hell as well? We have no potions or healing items, our weapons haven’t been tended to in over a week because of the constant fighting and everyone has an injury in one way or another. We can’t afford to keep going at this rate. We’re lucky enough to have enough food as it is.”

You glanced at the W Trio. Wild, Wind and Warrior.

They’ve been going over the map and strategies for the past hour and it’s getting tiring. That normally would have fallen to Time and Twilight to talk to Warrior about it but they went ahead as the currently strongest of all to secure the perimeter.

It hasn’t been going great.

You sighed and stood up, making your way over to where they were.

Warrior was getting worked up and his gestures became more agitated and pronounced.

They needed to stop.

“Ok, guys, take five and a breather.” You started before your head snapped backwards.

The arguing stopped instantly.

“Oh for Din’s sake! Are you ok?.” Hands covered your own as you felt your face trying to pry them off to get a read on the damage done. “Oh course this has to happen.”

You took a step back and plugged your nose for good measure.

Wild and Wind both look tense and looked between the two of you, expecting something to blow up in their faces.

“Well that was unnecessary.” You spoke after a tense beat.

Warrior bit his lip, warring within himself to both step forward to comfort you and too afraid of pushing your boundaries more than he already has. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Does it hurt?”

“I’ll live if that’s what you’re asking me.” You raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say that you should all take a break and leave it for a while. Maybe take a nap and come back to it once Twilight and the Old Man can have a say. Because yeah, we’re all tired as hell. I don’t think you liked the idea though.”

Warrior had the decency to look ashamed. “That was unintentional.”

“Regardless, I think I’m bleeding.” You smirk. “You’ve got quite the arm Captain. Last time I checked, a backhanded slap was usually reserved for-”

“Please don’t make this any worse.”

You laughed.

Wind

“Wind! Get down from there!” You called up the tree.

Mr. Sticky Fingers had taken something important from you, not that he knew what it was and you didn’t plan on telling him it’s importance since it was mostly sentimental value but the kid turned it into a game instead.

“I’m not going to climb after you Pirate!”

“I guess it’s mine then!” He taunted back.

You glared at his smirking face and snapped your head to the group. “Excuse me Wild Child, care to lend a hand? You’re the best tree climber among us and I’d really like to get my item back.”

Wild looked up and spotted Wind in the tree. He shrugged and stood up, making his way over. “I can make that climb. Sure.”

“Uh oh.” Wind huddled into himself on the nearest branch before making a mad dash through the tree.

Wild followed closely and you stepped under the tree to get a better view of the chase. The multitude of branches and leave and twigs made it hard to see through and you didn’t see make the executive decision to jump down.

And it seemed as if he didn’t see you either. 

You both landed on the ground, a sickening crack following shortly. Your cry of surprise quickly turning into one of pain.

Wind jumped off of you as if you burned him but stayed close, handing your item back as if that would fix the problem.

The boys crowded you instantly. Hyrule led the charged followed by Twilight and Time. Warrior pulled Wind aside to give them room, Wild jumped down from the tree and Legend chose to stand closer to Hyrule to get a look over his shoulder. Four and Sky held back, concerned faces mirroring each other.

“I think you broke my arm.” You gritted through your teeth.

“I didn’t.... I didn’t mean-” Wind spoke up but bit his lip, cutting himself off. He knew there was no saving him.

“What on earth was so important that it had to come to this?” Time glared at the both of you. You would have felt a little more embarrassed because it was easily avoidable but at the same time, it was your dominant arm and now you struggled to sit up.

“Wind took an item of mine and refused to give it back. To keep me from getting it back, he climbed up a tree and I asked wild to help me out. The kid jumped on me and this happened. End of story.” Hyrule looked up at you questionably before snapping the bones back into place. A scream tore through your throat before you could stop it. “‘RULE! A little warning next time?!”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s better if you aren’t expecting it.”

“What’s so special about that item anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sky came a little closer to rub comforting circles on your back. Hyrule took that as his cue to begin healing the injury properly. “Is it magic?”

Pain clouded your judgment slightly. “No, not exactly.”

“What is it then? It doesn’t look like anything special.” Legend gripped the tip of it and you pulled it closer to your chest, away from the others. “It’s defiantly not magic.”

“Not in the traditional sense.” You agreed. The pain was slowly fading away now, but with the quickening of the healing process, it looked worse than it did before. You turned your eyes away from the black and blue mess.

“It’s... the last gift my mother ever gave to me.” You admitted. “It’s a special kind of magic that only means something to me.”

“The sentimental kind.” Four smiled sadly.

You nodded in agreement. “But it’s not like it does anything. It’s only a token really. However... I’d rather die then let anything happen to it.”

The group stood around you silently, taking in the information.

“I’m sorry.” Wind stood before you. “I didn’t-”

You held your good hand up. “It’s not broken, I knew you would never try that and I got it back. I’m not even mad, just don’t do it again.”

He looked worse after your words, as if it was the worse news you could have told him. You knew the feeling. You felt like maybe it would help him feel better to get yelled at or something equivalent of a punishment but it wasn’t in your nature.

Once that mess was cleared up, he stayed to close to you but was unusually quiet.

You made it a point to make sure that he knew you were still on good terms by the end of the day.

Wild

“I wonder if theses are ok to eat.” You mutter to yourself. Poking at a berry bush that was near your camp, you heard (and felt) your stomach rumble. “Wild would probably know. Hyrule might know as well but....”

THWIP

Something was imbedded in your leg.

“OH MERCY ME!” You fell over, narrowly avoiding the berry thorn bush and looked down. “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY-  WHAT IN THE WORLD-!”

An arrow.

An arrow was just... sticking out of your leg.

Rustling came from the bushes beyond and out popped a twig and leaf covered head of hair. A scarred face came next that expressed confusion to immediate concern and shock. Wild jumped over the bush and made a mad dash to your side.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I thought you were an animal.” He crouched down by your side and hovered his hands around the offending object.

“Why on earth did you think I was an animal?” You nearly cursed him then and there. 

It hurt. It hurt and hurt and he wasn’t doing anything!

“I heard a growl.” He admitted, a bright blush on his face.

“No, that was me and my stomach. I’m hungry man! I was just checking if those berries were edible.” You growled and tried to move over but your leg wouldn’t cooperate without sending bouts of burning static up to your hip.

“That was a crap shot anyway. It wouldn’t have taken the animal down regardless.” Wild muttered to himself.

“Excuse you but I’m the one who was shot. Take it out!”

“Ok, ok, ok, hold on.” He placed a bracing hand on your leg and grip the arrow in the other. “Deep breath. Ready? One. Two.”

“OUCH! YOU SICK, TWISTED, SON OF A-”

“Here.” Wild handed you a potion. You recognized it as a healing item of his, even if the bottle was wrong and uncorked it, gulping it down with vigor.

“You owe me Champion.” You crossed your arms when you finished, handing the bottle back to him. 

“I’ll cook you something. Anything you want.” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Those berries aren’t edible anyway.”

You blinked at him and the berries, not pouting at all. Your glare hardened at the plant. “I blame you.”

“The plant?”

“I just wanted to eat something!”

Legend

You couldn’t believe it.

There he was, sleeping in your bedroll.

You were tired as it was and didn’t have the energy to put up with it. Instead of anger though...It was mostly confusion.

Why was Legend asleep in your bed roll?

Was he really that tired that he just didn’t care? Probably. The nightmares were bad the night before and he was working nonstop the whole day.

You couldn’t fully blame him. He probably didn’t even notice.

Still.

You were exhausted as well and you refused to take his spot.

You walked over and shook his shoulder.

BAM

You stumbled backwards and eventually fell over, your hands covering your face. 

Legend sat up blearily and blinked for a solid minute before realizing his fist was still raised. 

“Legend!” You yelled at him. “What the heck man? You can’t punch to save your life!”

“What?”

“That’s my bedroll, dumb bell. I would like to sleep please.” You crossed your arms and stared him down. “Also, I’m telling Twilight you can’t punch for crap.”

Legend pushed himself up and looked beneath him. “Oh. Sorry. Wait. What about my punching?”

”You suck at it.”

He glared at you for a moment before taking a swing in your direction.

You dodged it easily and grinned. “Your form definitely needs work.”

“Shut up!”

Part 2

[navalcriminalimagines]

Lost self confidence

Anon: Can I request a lil one-shot where y/n has been on the team for a while and she put on some weight/starts feeling insecure about it and Gibbs helps her feel better? :> If not it's okay (Preferably a lot of fluff, angst & smut up to you)

Anon: Can I ask for a plus sized reader and gibbs please? I never see them :( Maybe someone says something about her weight when theyre working a case or something and he does the gibbs-legendary-elevator-conversation??? OuO

I thought those two requests work well together. Enjoy, lovely anons! ❤️

Warnings: punch, mention of blood, hurtful comments about weight

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

~~~~~

Your body changed. A lot. More than you like to admit.

You have been avoiding mirrors for a while now, but as you stand in front of it right now, only dressed in underwear, you have to face it. Your body changed and you don’t like it. Actually, you hate it.

As you look at your stomach that used to be flat, your hips that are larger, the celulitis… you can’t help but to think it’s no wonder you’re alone. Who could you attract, looking like this? Not many people and definitely not the man you wish you had. He has probably noticed how your body is different. Maybe before, you stood a chance with the man but not anymore. It’s a lost cause.

You put some clothes on and left for work.

You and your team are working on a tricky case, you are not impatient to get into the office today. But as always, you put on your best smile and pretend that everything is okay. Even though it’s most definitely not.

You skipped breakfast this morning - on purpose - but when you sit at your desk, you can see a brown bag sitting there. You look inside; donuts. Not just regular donuts, but your two favorites.

“Gibbs’s treat.” Tony lets you know.

“What’s the occasion?” you casually answer, putting the bag aside. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat them.

“No occasion. You’re just his favorite,”

You can’t help but smile at this. Not that it’s true, but it feels nice anyway. Before, you would have been happy about your boss’s attention, but not today. “Aren’t you going to eat them?”

“I’m not hungry. Do you want them?”

Tony grabs the bag before you know it. At least, you won’t have to throw them away.

You put yourself into work quickly after. You need to take your mind off your insecurities and how bad you feel about yourself. Tony tries to make casual conversation, just being his old self but as you barely answer, he realizes that something’s wrong with you. He just doesn’t know what.

“You’re staring.” You say to him, without looking up from your computer screen.

“You’re in a bad mood.” He states.

“Am not.”

“Y/N, please.” He stands up from his desk and walks up to yours. “I’m a trained investigator. Talk to me.”

“Not a chance.” You keep working, avoiding eye contact. You’re scared that he may read into you, or worse; that you may cry if he starts to ask too many questions.

“Did Gibbs get the order wrong?” He jokes. He doesn’t mean wrong at all, but it sets you off.

“Just-- leave me alone, DiNozzo.”

You practically jump for your chair, grab your laptop and walk away from the bullpen, leaving your coworker in awe. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s more convinced that something’s really not okay with you.

You spend the next two hours hiding in the conference room. You didn’t work much, you mostly cried and felt sorry for yourself. You really hate yourself and your body right now. It’s not about gaining some weight, it’s also about how lonely you feel. You love your team more than anything, they really are like your family but when you get home at night, it’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your loneliness.

You just want someone to get home to. Someone to cuddle, someone to love and who loves you back, someone to fall asleep with. Just someone.

You had your face buried in your arms when you heard the door opening. You look up, ashamed. Gibbs is standing here.

He closes the door behind him and walks to you. “You okay, Y/N?” he softly asks.

“Y-yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“You know, if DiNozzo pissed you off, you can tell me.”

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing he did. I guess I got up on the wrong foot this morning, that’s it.”

Gibbs did let it go - for now - but you knew he didn’t buy any of it.

That is later's concern though, there is some news on the case and you need to get going. The afternoon went better; your mind was focused on the case, you didn’t have time to think of the rest. It’s only when you get back home that it hits again. Before taking a shower, you put a sheet on the big mirror in your bedroom. You don’t want to face your reflection for now.

*****

The next morning, you are in a better mood. Not entirely, you still skipped breakfast and avoided all the mirrors but you made a decision: you won’t let the team know. You won’t let them see you’re going through a tough time. It would only make things worse.

Everything’s going okay until that stupid lawyer shows up. You never wanted to see him again after hooking up with him over a year ago. He seemed nice and good looking, he flirted with you the whole time he was in the office, so when he invited you for a drink, you said yes.

Your agreement had something to do with Gibbs’s flirting with that shrink but to this day, you keep telling yourself that it hadn’t.

After a few drinks, you let the lawyer kiss you and before you knew it, you took him home and you had a one night stand.

The sex wasn’t the problem, you actually had a lot of fun. The problem was the next day.

He was gone before you woke up - still not a problem. But when Gibbs yelled at you for giving him some private information, you understood your mistake. The man had used you. While you were sleeping, he looked into your files and found the information he needed to save his client’s butt.

After that, Gibbs gave you the silent treatment for weeks. And he stopped being mad at you after you came to see him in his basement and did your mea culpa. No one ever talked about it since.

But now, the same man is standing in the middle of the bullpen. You growled to yourself before going in.

You don’t greet him at all, just sit at your desk. “Y/N? That’s you?” he says, apparently shocked.

You look at him briefly and don’t answer.

“My god, what happened to you?” he adds.

“Excuse you?” you snap.

“God, if you had been looking like this last year, I wouldn’t have been able to use you.”

His sentence feels like a punch in your stomach, it hurts. But it shouldn’t and you know it. But it still does. You stay there a moment, not knowing if you want to cry and beat the crap out of him. Probably both at the same, but you don’t move or don’t say a thing, you’re like frozen. You barely don’t notice when Gibbs pushes the man towards the elevator.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

In the elevator

“Overprotective much, Gibbs?” the lawyer tries to appear confident and unafraid. He has his back against the wall, and in a second, he can hear Gibbs’s fist hitting a few inches away from his head. If the fist had touched his nose, he probably would have needed plastic surgery.

“Ever in your life, you disrespect a woman like that again, and especially--especially not Y/N.”

The lawyer made many people angry over the years, but never had he seen a man as angry as Gibbs looks right now.

“The only reason my hand is in this wall and not your face right now, is because she wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, but trust me when I say that all I want to do right now is to shoot you right in your precious parts.”

Gibbs is panting from anger. He can’t remember the last time he said that many words at once. But there’s no way that he or anyone else can disrespect you like this. Never, under his watch.

“So I’m gonna be very clear, you give that case to someone else. I don’t give a shit who, you just do it. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Cause if I do, you’ll be so disfigured, you won’t be able to get another woman. Ever.”

“I could sue you for those threats, Special Agent Gibbs.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, in that case--”

This time, Gibbs’s fist hit the nose.

Meanwhile, in the bullpen

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah-yeah,” you clearly lie as your eyes are watering.

Your coworker isn’t buying it. She takes a step forward and hugs you softly. “Please, don’t let him get to you.” she whispers in your ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Those words make you cry. You are not really buying them, but it does something to hear them. And you know deep inside that Ziva wouldn’t say something she doesn’t think.

As she keeps hugging, you can feel someone else’s arms wrapping around both of you. It’s Tony and shortly after, Tim is joining. “I think we should call Ducky. We’re going to have a crime scene.” Tony jokes to light the mood.

“I don’t want Gibbs to put himself in trouble for me.” you sadly say.

“Y/N, if Gibbs hadn’t taken him in the elevator, we would all have jumped on him.” Tim tells you. Which surprises you because Tim is the one to avoid a fight as much as he can.

“Also, the only reason I’m not asking you out is because of Rule 12.”

You are about to answer to Tony when you can hear the elevator’s doors opening. You let go of one another and watch Gibbs as he comes back to you and takes you by the hand. “Someone may have to call 911.” he tells the rest of the team.

Gibbs takes you to the other elevator, the one that leads to the lower floors, where Abby’s lab and Autopsy are. But of course, he switches the button as soon as the doors close. He doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs you tight. “Your hand is blue, Gibbs.” you cry in his neck.

“Yeah and his nose is red, who cares.” he kisses your hair. “I don’t want you to cry because of him, Y/N. And especially not because of what he said.”

“But Gibbs--”

“Not ‘but’, Y/N. Look at me.” he softly grabs your chin with his non-injured hand and forces you to look into his eyes. “You may not believe me right now, but you’re beautiful, Y/N. Sexy. Hot.” you uncontrollably shake your head, not buying a word he says. “I know I’m not the best with words, so I’ll let my actions speak.”

Gibbs ducks his head just a bit and closes the gap between his lips and yours. He softly kisses. You probably have never been kissed this softly before. Gibbs is so gentle and tender, his lips move slowly but expertedly. You’re literally melting under him.

The kiss may have lasted for minutes, hours, you don’t really know. You lost track of time, as if the world had stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry I waited for something like this to happen to do it. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Y/N.”

“Me, too, Gibbs. But I’m not sure that’s the best time. I’ve lost all self confidence and--”

He kisses you again, undoubtedly to make you shut up. “I’ll help you find it again. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You rest your forehead against his, some tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “You’re not bad with words.”

“I’m still better with touch.”

[leossmoonn]

Temptation

masterlist

pairing - silas x forbes,fem!reader

type - fluffy smut, angst

note / request - “can i request a silas fic where the reader is Caroline's lil sis and Silas likes to annoy her, and he likes her a lot. Then Care and Damon are always into protective sibling modes where silas is around y/n. So one day they catch y/n making out w him, and then theres a lot of banter again” this was really fun to write! im not gonna rewrite background info lol so make sure to read the request. also the timeline of events is a little fuzzy so i apologise if i make a mistake. enjoy :)

summary - damon and caroline find you making out with the enemy, who just happens to be silas 

warnings / includes - language, sibling fighting, steamy make out, sexual tension heheh, you’re in your senior year of high school, suggestive

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Hello, doll face,” Silas greeted behind you.

You jumped at his voice, but quickly settled down. “Hey, Silas,” you said dully.

“Why the long face, princess?” Silas asked. 

“Because you’re here,” you said. “Oh, that’s so mean. You’ve hurt my feelings,” Silas pouted. 

“Well, I’m not supposed to be talking to you anyways,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

“Ugh, you are such a goody two shoes. It’s cute, but annoying. Why not break the rules? I know you want to,” Silas said, leaning over the top of the couch, his face going right next to your’s.

You inhaled deeply, your heart pounding against your chest. You were attracted to him, no doubt about that, but if you even considered shaking his hand, Caroline and Damon would kill you. And you definitely didn’t want that.

“I can read your mind, Y/n. I know you want to kiss me, so go ahead,” he whispered. 

You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes wandered to the left. You got a good view of his lips, which made butterflies flutter in your stomach. It was so tempting to close the gap between you two, but you knew better than that. You turned your head the other way, standing up from the couch. You packed up your school work, deciding to leave the Salvatore house and go to your own. 

You were at the Salvatore house because Damon had offered to help you with your history homework. You took the offer and you two had been studying for a few hours. He had left you for 30 minutes to go and get you two lunch. In those 30 minutes, Silas had wandered into the house, looking for you. 

You pulled out your phone, texting Damon to go to your house instead of back to his. 

“Where are ya going?” Silas asked. 

“Home,” you mumbled, keeping your head down and walking to the front door. 

Silas stood in front of the door, making you look up at him with an annoyed frown. 

“Please let me go,” you said. 

“No, I’d rather see you beg,” Silas smirked. You rolled your eyes. “Please. Damon is waiting for me at my house with food.”

“Oh! Well, why don’t I just go with you, then? I’d love to see Damon.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you chuckled. “Why not? I can just pretend to be his brother! I’ve fooled lots of people already,” Silas smiled. 

“I think Damon will notice. Especially if I’m there,” you said.  “I’ll just sneak in then,” Silas suggested. 

“No, Silas! I just want to go home alone. Leave me alone,” you said sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. You went to push him out of the way, but his hands grabbed ahold of your wrists. His strong grip made goosebumps rush up your forearms.

Silas couldn’t help but smirk. You rarely ever had outbursts. He thought it was incredibly sexy and cute when you put your foot down. Especially when it pertained to him. 

“You are so adorable when you’re mad. You're so small, too. I can’t help but not take you seriously,” Silas chuckled. 

Your eyes went wide and you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You masked your embarrassment by groaning and running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “Just let me go! Please. I’m hungry and tired and really need to study for my test.”

“What is your test over, anyways? History? Cause if so, I could help you out. I bet I know more than Damon,” Silas said. 

“No thanks, bro, she’s all taken care of,” Damon said from behind Silas. 

“You tattled that I was here! So naughty of you,” Silas glared at you playfully. 

“Step out of the way, Silas. Otherwise I will snap your neck,” Damon sneered. 

Silas sighed. “Fine! I’m only obeying because I want to kiss you before I die.”

“Fat chance of that. C’mon, Y/n. I got you a burger and those onion rings you like,” Damon said.

“Thanks, Damon,” you smiled gratefully at him. 

“See you later, doll face!” Silas called out as you walked to your car. 

“I’m sorry about him. I should make you the owner of the house,” Damon said. 

You shrugged, “It’s alright. He would never actually hurt me.”

“Well, we don’t know that,” Damon said. 

“Yes, we do. Sure, he might threaten to kill me sometimes, but his liking for me trumps any chance of him killing me. I don’t fear him, he’s just extremely annoying,” you said, getting in your car.

“Agreed,” Damon said. 

You two drove to your house, eating lunch and studying for a few more hours. Caroline and Elena then came home, talking to you and Damon about a party at the Grill. 

“Can I come?” You asked. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” Caroline nodded. 

You smiled excitedly. You barley went to any of these parties. You usually were at home studying or hiding away in your house because Caroline and Damon were always worried for you, but Caroline figured that since she and Damon and everyone else would be there, they would be able to protect you. 

So you took a quick shower and got ready for the night. You put on ripped jeans and a black, spaghetti-strapped top with a jean jacket. You put on heeled boots and put on some silver jewellery, as well as lined your eyes with eyeliner and painted your lips red with lipstick.

“Oh, you look so cute!” Elena exclaimed as you walked out of your room. 

“Thanks, Elena,” you smiled at her. 

“No, go change,” Caroline said. “Why?” You frowned. 

“Because Silas could be there and that outfit would tempt him even more,” Damon explained. 

You rolled your eyes. “So when Klaus was here, Caroline could wear anything, but I guess since I’m younger and a human, I can’t? That’s so unfair.”

“She’s right, guys. I hate Silas as much as you two, but let her dress how she wants. We’ll be there to protect her. Plus, if Silas thinks she’s hot, then good for her. She is,” Elena agreed with you. 

You smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiled. 

“Ugh, fine! But no drinking, okay?” Caroline said. 

“Ay, ay captain,” you said. You four went out to Elena’s SUV, driving to the Grill. 

Loud music blasted into your ears as soon as you stepped inside. You smiled as you saw everything dancing and having the time of their life. 

“Shots?” Caroline suggested. 

“Hell yeah!” Elena squealed. 

“Iced tea for you, Y/n?” Caroline asked. “Yes, please,” you nodded. 

“Alright, you guys go to the pool table. I’ll be back,” Caroline said. 

“Where is Stefan?” You asked, looking around the bar and walking to the pool table that was conveniently empty. 

“Right here!” 

You turned around, smiling once you saw Stefan in a grey shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. You went to hug him, but Damon stopped you. 

“Ah, ah, ah. How do we know it isn’t Silas?” Damon asked. 

Stefan rolled his eyes. He pulled out a blood bag from his pocket, taking it and drinking it quickly. 

“Alright, alright, we know it’s you. Cool it on the blood, brother. Don’t want to go into a bloodlust,” Damon said, taking the empty bag and throwing it in the trash. 

“Well, I don’t really know how else to prove I’m not Silas,” Stefan sighed. “Can I get that hug now?”

You smiled and nodded, wrapping your arms around him. 

Between everyone else, Damon and Stefan were your best friends. They were like the brothers you’ve never had, protecting you and teasing you whenever they felt like it was necessary. You hadn’t seen Stefan in a while since he was found in the safe, but you were glad to see he was okay. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Stef,” you said, pulling back. 

“And I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen victim to my doppelgänger,” Stefan smiled. 

Caroline came back with shots, pleasantly surprised to see Stefan. 

“Stefan! You’re here! Oh, my God the whole gang is here!” She squealed, putting down the shots and engulfing Stefan is a big hug. 

“I’m excited to be here, too. This is the first time I’ve really gone out for fun. I hope nothing goes wrong,” Stefan joked. 

“Well, if any of you spot Silas, make sure to not let him get close to Y/n. We don’t know what he could do to her,” Caroline said.

You rolled your eyes at her concern, but didn’t say anything. You knew it would end up with you two arguing and that was the last thing anything wanted. Forbes were very controlling and heated when they got angry.

You took your tea and sipped on it as Damon downed the first shot. 

“Wait, are we playing in teams?” You asked. 

“Yeah, which one do you wanna be one? Damon and I’s?” Stefan asked. 

“Definitely yours,” you said. “Oh, what! You know I win all the time,” Damon said. 

“Yeah, but when you lose you get so mad. It’s hilarious,” you giggled.

“True, it is cute,” Elena smirked. 

Damon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You two are so annoying.”

You smiled and played with your friends for a little while. It came to a time where everyone was too tipsy to where they could barely walk, so you were in charge of getting the drinks. Damon and Caroline, despite being pretty much drunk, stayed close behind you. 

“Hey, Matt,” you smiled at the boy working behind the bar. “Hey, Y/n! Let me guess, more shots and another iced tea?” He asked. 

“You guessed right,” you chuckled. 

“So, how is school?” He asked. 

“Pretty good. History is kicking my ass, per usual. It’s weird because I’m surrounded by history buffs,” you said. 

“Well, I know you have Damon helping you, but Stefan is a lot better at tutoring, in my opinion. I know he’s been having a rough time, though,” Matt said. 

“He has, which is why I should be your tutor,” Silas smirked next to you. 

You jumped slightly, surprised to see him there. You looked at him, seeing him wearing a dark navy shirt and jeans. Your eyes stared at his biceps and his strong, broad shoulders. Once you noticed him smirking at you, you looked back to the drinks Matt was filling. 

“Now I get the silent treatment? C’mon, not fair,” Silas whined.

“You shouldn’t be here, man,” Matt said. 

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about, it huh?” Silas taunted, looking at Matt with narrow, menacing eyes. 

Matt rolled his eyes, putting the tequila shots and your drink on a tray and handing them to you. 

“Thanks, Matt,” you smiled.

You took the tray, ready to turn around and walk away from Silas. He put his arm up, planning to grab your arm to stop you, but Caroline and Damon used their vamp speed to push him back. 

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Caroline sneered. Veins were circulating under her eyes and she bared her fangs. 

Silas smirked, not at all fazed. “Oh, please, I could kill both of you so fast, you couldn’t have chance to say bye to Y/n. Now, let me go, Damon.”

Damon’s grip on Silas’s arms tightened. “Not a chance. We’re going outside and I’m gonna make sure you are far away from here.”

Damon then took Silas to the exit, Silas looking back at you and giving you a wink. Caroline groaned in disgust and took the tray away from you. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

“I’m fine, Care! He wasn’t going to hurt me,” you glared at her. 

“You don’t know that! Why are you defending him? Doesn't he annoy you?” Caroline asked. 

“Yeah, he does,” you said, your voice trailing off at the end, alluding to something else.

Caroline stared at you intensely, gasping once she put the pieces together. “You… You like him? Ugh, why! He’s a monster.”

“I don’t like him! God, why is that always your first assumption?” You asked.

“Because you obviously are having physical reactions to him. We all see the way you look down in shyness when he flirts with you, and we can hear your heart racing. We just hoped you wouldn’t give in,” Caroline sighed. 

“I’m not! I don’t like him in any way, okay? Just because I defend someone doesn’t mean I automatically like them!”

“That’s what you always say! You need to get rid of those feelings, Y/n. He’s not a good person.”

You closed your eyes in frustration, sighing roughly. “I’m going to the bathroom to cool down. When I come out, you better not say anything else about me liking Silas.”

You spun on your heels, storming off to the bathroom. You washed your hands, putting them to your forehead to cool yourself down. 

“Feelings for Silas, please,” you scoffed to yourself. 

“She’s right. I know it, you know it. Everyone does.”

You looked in the mirror, jumping once you saw Silas behind you. You turned around quickly. 

“H-How did you get in here?” You asked.

“I knocked Damon out,” he shrugged. 

“What?! Is he okay?” You asked. “Yes, he’s fine. I know that you would hate me if I killed one of your friends,” he said.

You sighed, “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” You went to the door, but Silas once again blocked the entrance. 

“You gotta be quicker, Y/n. Someday you might find yourself in real trouble,” Silas smiled down at you. 

“You are real trouble,” you retorted.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true. If I was then you’d be screaming for your life. But you’re just standing there, looking so incredibly kissable,” Silas said, shamelessly looking at your lips. 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you looked down to hide your face. “No, I just don’t want to make a scene,” you mumbled. 

Silas put his hand on your chin, making your eyes meet his. “While that is true, you also having feelings for me.”

You stepped away from him, his hand falling to his side. “I don’t. You’re evil and cheated on your girlfriend. No girl wants to be with a guy like that.”

“Elena practically cheated on Stefan emotionally, you’re still friends with her,” Silas stated. 

You furrowed your brows, not sure what to say back. He was correct, but you knew that wasn’t the point. You needed to get out of there otherwise Caroline and Damon would freak out. 

Silas walked towards you slowly, like you were his prey that he was stalking. You turned around, not wanting to look at him. Silas grinned, seeing as his plan would work out even better now that you were facing the mirrors. 

He put his hand on your bare arm, dragging his fingertips up your skin. 

“I’m so glad you took off the leather jacket. Your outfit looks so much better without it,” he murmured. 

You immediately froze. Your eyes were glued to the two of you in the mirror. You watched as his hand went up to your shoulders, pressing down lightly on your muscles. 

“Shouldn’t you be running, Y/n?” Silas asked, moving. your hair out of the way so he could get a better view of your neck. 

You knew you should, but his touch felt so good. It weirdly calmed your nerves down, but also made you flustered as hell. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to stay in this bathroom and let him take you. Silas smiled at your thoughts, lowering his lips down to your shoulder. 

“I can totally take you right here if you want,” he whispered, his lips making contact with your skin. 

You inhaled sharply, finding yourself stumbling back into his chest. His other arm went around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Your skin is so soft, doll face,” he said while kissing up your neck. 

You watched him in the mirror, your stomach doing flips. Your legs felt weak and heat gathered in between your thighs. You had honestly wanted to kiss him this whole time. You decided a few more minutes in the bathroom couldn’t hurt. 

So you turned around, crashing your lips onto his. Silas smiled as you kissed him, his hands trailing down to your legs. He lifted you up with ease, taking you to the sink and placing you on the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands running themselves through his hair. 

“Silas,” you breathed out as you felt his hands on your thighs, going higher and higher. 

“You like that, princess?” He hummed, his fingers going higher until they reached your clothed entrance. He pulled away, grinning and looking you in the eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, pulling his face close to yours roughly.

Your lips collided again, your heart and brain exploding. Kissing him felt like heaven.

Silas mirrored your neediness and put his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You pressed your chest up to him more, your hands going down from his head to the bottom of his shirt. You lifted it up, Silas pulling away so you could pull it off of him. You sat back and admired his abs and muscles, excitement growing in between your thighs. 

You dove down to his neck, kissing and sucking lightly. Your hands explored his chest, tracing along his prominate abs. Silas breathed heavily into your ear, groaning as you found his sweet spot. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he panted. 

You smirked against his skin. Before you could put your hands on his belt, the bathroom door burst open. You saw Caroline and Damon standing, eyes huge and mouths agape. 

“What the hell!” Caroline shrieked. 

Your eyes widened and you pushed Silas away from you, getting off the counter. 

“Really, Y/n? You pick him to make out with in the bathroom?” Damon groaned. 

“It is just happened,” you shrugged sheepishly. 

“Yeah, she’s a really good kisser,” Silas smirked. “I never would have expected it since she’s shy and all, but man, she is wil-”

“You shut the hell up. And you,” Caroline pointed to you. “Are going home. now.”

“He wasn’t hurting me, Care,” you said. 

Caroline looked at you two incredulously. “You’re making her say this! You pressured her, didn’t you!” She pointed to Silas. 

“He’s not! I was the one who kissed him first,” you admitted. “Yeah, but I helped a little,” Silas smirked. 

Caroline made her vampire face and lunged at Silas, to which Damon pulled her back. 

“Alright, blondie, why don’t you take Y/n home and I’ll deal with Silas, okay?” Damon said. 

Caroline huffed and nodded, grabbing you by the arm roughly. 

“We’ll continue another time, doll face!” Silas exclaimed. 

“No, you will not,” Damon glared.

————

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[gainerstories]

Professor Plump

*UNLOCKED*

As a big fat thank you to everyone who has supported this blog and enjoyed my stories, I am unlocking one of my favorite stories off Patreon. This has been a rough year for everyone and y’all enjoy a little treat. Of course, if you want more (20+ more fattening stories in fact) you know where to go. Enjoy. 

As much as Robert Daniels loved being a professor, he woke up full of dread on the first day of fall semester. At 28 he was the youngest tenure track faculty in his department and he often felt that all eyes were on him. His first academic year had been rough, exhausting, and tiresome and he wasn’t ready to get back in the game. He just wanted his beautifully sunny and lazy summer vacation to last one or two more months.

As he sat up in bed his belly spilled forward pushing down his morning wood. There was no doubt he’d gained quite a bit of pudge in the last few months. It didn’t bother him, however, as most of his colleagues were plump and he viewed extra weight as a sign of contentment and maturity. During the school year he had actually lost weight from stress and being overworked. His new, rounder form lent a sense of satisfaction.

As Robert stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to shower he took a close look at himself. He’d be turning 29 soon and was finally starting to look like a man. His face had grown scruffy and his chest hair finally bloomed across his pecs and down to his puffy stomach. The thirty pounds of fat that clung to his belly also gave him a more mature look. He was now firmly within “dad bod” territory and wore that badge with pride. He scooped his fat up with both his hands and gave it a hearty jiggle. He wondered if anyone on campus would comment on his somewhat weight gain.

Turning around, Robert examined his rear which was now fluffy and dimpled with cellulite. He noticed that even his ass had grown a bit hairier along with a small patch of fuzz on his lower back, framed between two bulging love handles. He could recall seeing the same patch on his father and wondering if the same was in store for himself. This memory cemented his perceived transition into manhood.

Robert’s thighs had also thickened up a bit and now touched when he was standing straight. He rubbed his thighs and gave them a slap, admiring how they bounced. Lately, he had no choice but to manspread when he sat down. Crossing his legs was a thing of the past. The added weight on his lower half gave him a sense of groundedness. All around the extra pudge made him feel strong and unshakable, despite jiggling quite a lot when he actually did shake.

Most of this excess poundage had been accrued during a month long cruise down Central America. Robert had spent almost every single day getting tipsy on fruity blended drinks and satisfying his drunchies from dusk ‘til dawn at the buffet. Carbs became his best friend, soaking up the sugary alcoholic concoctions he guzzled during the day. Altogether, cruise life was a much needed respite from the long nights of grading papers and doing research during the academic year.

His salary did not allow him to indulge in fancy foods very often, and so this cruise was an opportunity to go hog wild. He made a conscious decision to eat and live like a king. As a result, he began to notice his body expanding only midway through the trip. It seemed as though out of nowhere he had grown a squishy paunch that jutted out behind his shirts. By the end of the vacation he was even larger, noticing fat accumulating all over his body.

As he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, Robert found himself particularly fascinated by the small white stretch marks that had formed at the top of his inner thighs. He traced his fingers over their subtle indentations. He hadn’t seen fresh stretch marks since puberty when his shoulders expanded overnight one summer. He was shocked to see the same thing happen simply from overeating on a long vacation.

Plump, tan, and satisfied, Robert stepped into the shower with vigor and began to get ready for his first day back to work. He trimmed his wild scruff back to a presentable shadow and styled his hair. He then slipped into underwear that clung more than usual to his meaty rump and resultantly compressed his bulge more than usual. He would have to remember to buy some new pairs. T-shirts had also grown a bit snug but this was not a huge concern for they would be hidden behind a button up. What he hadn’t considered was that his button ups from last year would also struggle to fit around his new body.

Robert sucked in his gut while doing each button. He let his stomach spill forward and was shocked at just how much the shirt did not fit. Scrambling through his closet he found the loosest button up he owned and put it on. It was still snug and would definitely be strained when he sat down, but it would have to suffice. Next, he slid into his stretchiest pair of chinos and was instantly filled with anxiety.

The fabric clung to his thighs and ass leaving little to the imagination. This would have been tolerable except for the fact that the waistband would not button no matter how hard he tried. With no other option, Robert scrounged a safety pin from the utility drawer and fastened the pants closed. Donning one of his bulkier belts he hoped no one would notice he’d outgrown his pants.

His day commenced with a faculty meeting catered with coffee and pastries. Although he had eaten a breakfast sandwich immediately upon getting to campus, he grabbed a healthy looking danish for the meeting. It was dry and mediocre as campus food tended to be, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling it within minutes. A few of his colleagues eyed his bulging waistline although no one made a comment.

Midway through the two hour meeting Robert found that his stomach was already growling to be fed. With no other choice, he would have to eat another Danish despite the fact he would be the only one going for seconds. He stood to grab one more danish and as he sat down he heard the unmistakable noise of a seam busting. Praying no one else heard, he subtly reached down to his thighs where a small hole had formed.

After the meeting he headed straight to the bathroom to examine the damage. It wasn’t too bad, maybe just an inch or so large. Plus, his underwear matched his pants so it was barely noticeable. He figured he could get through the day without anyone noticing. Although no one noticed the tear in his pants, his students were fully aware of his newfound growth.

“Mr. Daniels lookin’ THICK,” someone commented before his first class began.

Robert ignored the comment and got on with his lecture. Still, in the back of his head he worried about his appearance and snug outfit. There was no question he would be investing in some new work clothes. By the end of the class he was hungry once again. At least it was lunch time, so he felt justified in heading to the student union for a big meal. He grabbed a massive burrito, chips and guac, a cookie, and large soda which he brought back to his desk.

Such a filling lunch was exactly what he needed. The food was comforting and satisfying, giving the plump professor a sense of peace. After scarfing it all down he leaned back in his chair and sighed. Just as he did so two buttons on his shirt went shooting across the room. “Fuck,” he said aloud to himself and went searching for the buttons so he could sew them back on. As he knelt on his hands and knees he felt the contents of his belly slosh forward and the seam of his pants rip even further.

Eventually, he found the missing buttons and broke out the sewing kit to get them back on. By the time he was finished stitching himself back into his clothes, there was someone knocking at his door. He’d forgotten about office hours. In a mad rush he cleaned the food wrappers off his desk and greeted the student. As he sat back down at his desk the same two buttons snapped back off and shot under his desk. Although the student overtly stared at Robert’s bulging gut, filled to the brim with his fattening lunch, neither of them acknowledged the embarrassment.

After the student left, Robert took off the button up and slipped his spare sport coat over his tee. The tee was more than a little snug and definitely didn’t hide much- the indentation of his belly button was fully visible- but it would have to do. After a constant stream of students over the course of an hour Robert rushed to his next class. The lecture left Robert feeling exhausted and tired. It was evening and he had grown peckish again, so he decided to grab a bite to eat before he had a meeting with the dean and could go home.

Hawaiian barbecue sounded like a good idea when he ordered it. However, after gobbling up every last morsel, the young professor felt uncomfortably full and bloated. He yearned for to return to the cruise ship where he could take a long nap after overindulging, but instead he sluggishly headed to the dean’s office. His belly had swelled considerably with the Hawaiian food and he found himself having to stretch the hem of his shirt down to ensure his gut was fully concealed.

Once inside, Robert cautiously took a seat in one of the rickety old chairs in the waiting room for the dean. After a few seconds he felt a snap underneath his ass as the seat of the chair gave way. Trying to be as subtle as possible, Robert cautiously lifted himself from the broken chair and casually examined a painting on the wall until the dean greeted him.

Once inside, the dean offered him a home baked muffin that his wife had made. Robert tried to refuse at first but the dean pushed it on him. He began pecking at the muffin and realized it was indeed quite moist and delicious. He polished it off in a couple minutes and resisted licking his fingers. By the end of the meeting the dean persuaded Robert to take one more muffin for the road. Without a second thought, Robert greedily snatched the biggest muffin of the bunch.

As he walked through the campus at night, illuminated by lanterns, Robert gobbled up the muffin while reflecting on the fact that he was in desperate need of a new wardrobe. His belly was stuffed to capacity and the sheer weight of it bulging out in front of him forced Robert to walk slow and steady with his shoulders back and hips forward. Freed from his constricting button up, his rounded gut peeked out from behind the sport coat and wobbled back and forth with each step to his car.

The walk seemed longer than usual, likely because he was slower than usual. Somewhat winded, Robert couldn’t wait to sit down as he opened the door to his hatchback. However, as he did so, a booming snap assaulted his ears and he felt his belly spill forward into his lap. Robert’s belt had completely snapped in half while the thigh of his pants simultaneously split all the way open from knee to crotch. His girth was simply too much to contain.

At least it happened at the end of the day, he told himself.

[chaoticpizzalawyerbiscuit]

Jealousy

Hey hey hey!!!

How are y'all doing? Here's another one, hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it!! Just a heads up, this is filthy, long, intense... but it gets a little cute at the very end ;)

Thank you @wickedazriel​ for this request! IT IS AWESOME!!!

✨don’t forget to make your own request✨

• I don’t own any of Sarah J. Mass’ characters or any of her plots, I’m just a fan having fun. Also I do not own the images. This is story is mine though, so please do not copy •

WARNING! cursing, sex... this is a hatefuck one

∞ I see red - Everybody loves an outlaw

Author’s P.O.V.

Y/N was sick and tired of that bullshit. Ever since Elain arrived in Velaris to visit her sisters, Feyre and Nesta, Az was with her. They went to shops, restaurants and pretty much everywhere else. All the damn time.

To worsen it, this last month was rough on their relationship. Loads of work, constant arguments and sleeping on different beds was their new routine, and honestly, Y/N was so done with it. She tried time after time to get him to open up and share what left him so disturbed, like he had other times, but it was in vain. He became more distant, and was currently avoiding her. 

Tonight, she wanted a change. She missed her mate, and just wished it was over. Determined to go talk to Azriel, she headed to Feyre’s house, knowing that he would be there. 

As she walked the streets of the city, the sun was setting and an ocean breeze stirred lightly. It reminded her of when they met, years ago, and their first kiss. Smiling, she remembered those sweet moments, of glimmering glances and tentative touches.

Eventually, she arrived at the house and started to look for Azriel, hoping that the Inner Circle’s meeting was done. Roaming through the corridors, she caught his scent. And Elain’s, she realized with an exasperated sigh. Following it led to the main living room, and she would never be prepared to witness what happened before her eyes. 

Elain and Azriel. 

Kissing.

“What’s going on?”

Azriel turned around, startled. Shit. Holy shit. This is the last thing he needed. Looking into his mate’s eyes, he was panicking. Elain had kissed him, caught him by surprise, hoping he had feelings for her. But he did not want her. Elain has a mate. Elain is not Y/N. 

“Y/N, wait. This is not what you think, just let —

Y/N's bitter laugh cut him off. Stepping closer, she glared at him. “It makes sense now. You acting distant and harsh, ignoring me all this time. How long has this happened.” Her cold voice tugged at his guts. “Actually, don’t answer me. You know, if you didn’t want me around anymore, you should’ve said it. But now it’s crystal clear.” She turned on her heels, and stormed out of the room.

Az moved, holding her wrist.

“Do not dare touch me.” Poison laced her voice, as she met his eyes at last. The anger there was enough to make him flinch, and he let go.

Desperate to get out of there, she stomped away from that place, hair whipping furiously. Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had never been this angry, or heartbroken. Hungry for revenge, an idea came to her. Her smirk was devilish. She arrived home, put on his favorite dress, fixed her hair and painted her lips a bloodred tint. And like this, she went out seeking for the main part of the plan. Ace.

Now, Ace was a fae male who worked in the Rainbow. Handsome and with a talent for music, he was a charming male straight out of one of those smutty books Y/N owned. Azriel made sure she knew how much he hated the guy’s guts (with those green eyes and oh so perfect blond hair), even when she never had feelings for Ace.

With a killer look, she walked around Velaris and spotted tonight’s target. She reached him, asked if he wanted to have a drink and dance for a while, and he agreed without hesitance.

So they drank into the night, and he eventually invited her for a dance. She obliged, but as soon as the music started YN regretted it. It felt wrong, like it was missing something.  This wasn’t Az. And she hated herself for being so foolish, in believing that the pain would go away this easy. That his presence would just vanish from her heart, even when it was burned into her soul.

Walking home, she wanted the day to be done. Y/N barely remembered bidding goodbye to a very confused Ace, her mind still clouded with everything that happened. She never expected anything like that from Az, even after years of relationship and many problems faced together.

Y/N reached her apartment, opened the door and found Az waiting for her. Seeing him made her anger rise to the brim, and she wasn’t the only one that was mad.

“You were with Ace?” He seethed, standing up from the couch. His blood boiled at her scent mixed with his.

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

She stilled, drunk in jealousy. 

“Why?! Oh I wonder why. Maybe” walking towards him, pressing his back against a wall “it was because you were kissing dear sweet Elain in the middle of a fucking living room.” They stood closely now “Maybe it’s because I feel like a fucking idiot for falling in love.” Their breaths mingled, and Y/N’s gaze burned him. With anger, with panic, with… desire.

She glanced at his lips. The room was filled by their aroused scent. 

She pounced on him. His lips met her with unwavering hunger, devouring her, and she equaled him. A delightful heat started between her legs and clouded her mind, enhanced by his now roaming hands all over her. A moan left her lips, and she felt him grow hard against her stomach. She palmed him through his pants, and his hips jerked.

Grabbing her wrists, he pushed her against the opposite wall and pinned them above her head. She whined in protest, and pushed her body into his. He went crazy with desire, her dress made her look like a goddess. All he wanted was to put his scent over that male’s.

“Jump” He ordered.

She did, wrapping her legs around him, with his hands now supporting her, fingers digging on her ass.

The kisses now were more important than air itself, their lips greedy for each other. Taking them to the bedroom, the shadowsinger was going mad for her. Y/N was on her own path to insanity, as her hands struggled with the buttons of his shirt and her body begged for more attention. 

He set her down and their kissing halted, overtaken by the need to shed their clothes. Fast. Mere seconds later, the pieces of clothing were discarded on the floor and the frenzy returned.

His mouth was on her lips, her neck, her breasts. Her nipples were rock hard, begging for attention as he wrapped his lips around one, licked, sucked and bit down. Her moans got out of control, thighs clenched together. Moving on to the other nipple, her hands (who had been wandering around his wings) suddenly gripped his throbbing cock, and surprised, he moaned into her chest as he thrust forward against her hand.

Her other hand grabbed his shoulder, and pushed him into the bed. He let himself fall into his back, and she got onto her knees. He will go crazy tonight, she thought, I’ll make him. 

The feeling of her mouth around him made him moan loudly. The view of her hand touching herself as she sucked him off almost made him cum. He gritted his teeth, and tried to hold it. But, with exceptional expertise, she teased him to the edge. And denied him right after. Twice.

Now, ready for more, Y/N stood up, straddled him, guided his shaft to her entrance… and lowered herself. Their moans sounded, and she started to move. Up and down at first, and then she ground into his cock. She pinned him to the bed, as he did with her against the wall.

Azriel lost any scrape of sanity after this. 

Y/N couldn’t control herself, and said

“Does she ride you like this? Do you fuck her like this?”

His eyes glittered with the challenge. Getting out her grip, he freed his arms, slid out of her and flipped them over. Then he flipped her, positioning her on all fours. Slid back in. Grabbed her hair. Pressed his fingers on her clit. And whispered on her ear 

“Does he make you feel this, Y/N?”

Her response was only a sequence of squeals and screams, pleasure crashing into her with violent waves. Their release was close, and the thrusting became faster, sloppier, desperate. Azriel thrust one last time, deep and strong, as pinched her nub, and she came around him. He followed her, getting squeezed by her muscles, tightly and uncontrollably. 

Their exhausted bodies lay entangled on each other, neither daring to move. Azriel slid out of her after a few minutes, and she whimpered softly. Still on the bed with her back to him, Y/N worked up the courage to ask.

“Az, what happened there?” 

He took a deep breath.

“Elain is having trouble with Lucien and their relationship, she talked to me a lot about it. There’s a lot of crap going on between them, and I advised her as a friend. Exclusively as someone who wants the best for her.” His mate remained in silence, and that quiet despair started to take over him once again.

“Y/N," he touched her exposed back gently, “turn around and talk to me. Please.”

A beat of silence went by. Two. On the third she moved, and their eyes met. His bared nothing but honesty and love.

“I love you, Y/N. My mate, my best friend, my everything. I truly did not expect a kiss from Elain, and I have no interest in another. I’m yours.”

And hers bared nothing but thankfulness and adoration.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Az. I believe you,” he let out a breath of relief at the words, “ and I’m sorry. I acted wrongly in going to Ace, in not hearing you and in dumping my insecurities on this.” 

“What went on between the two of you?”

“We had drinks, he asked me to dance. I said yes, and lasted for half a song. Because it wasn’t you.”

Azriel said nothing, and her heart broke a little more. 

"Can you forgive me?”, she asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

He looked into her eyes, and thanked the Mother for such a stunning, courageous and honest female in his life.

“Yes.” She smiled brightly at his reply, touching their foreheads. “Can you forgive me? For making you feel insecure and for staying so distant? I shouldn’t have shut you out”

“I can, Az. And please, let’s not do this again.”

“Oh absolutely, it was dreadful” the shadowsinger agreed, and leaned in to kiss her lips, the trouble now forgotten.

And so they kissed.

Once.

Twice.

Their hands started to–

Well, you know what happens next...

-From A.

Ps: talk to me, make some requests 😁 my box is open

[wasbangtanhome]

late, late, late | KSJ

banner made by bangtanhome! (me)

Summary: Is he late? Yes. Were you mad? Yes. Was it a special day? Yes, yes, yes! You had everything prepared and you just wanted your boyfriend to come home. Now.

Pairing: Office worker!Kim Seokjin x F(Reader) | also kind of dom!Jin

Warning: 18+. Smut in the form of: pwp, provocative dress, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it hehe), oral sex (M receiving), fingering, use of the word "slut", cumming inside, impact play (ass and pussy). also he used the L word.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's note: Short and sweet to start off my journey here on tumblr!! I hope you enjoy it and to please please let me know about any improvements. I worked really hard on it! Also my first smut fic! Also, also, there are not a lot of pet names ever since I saw the post about what Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin would call their lover. I got super sappy.

From the kitchen window, you have a clear view of the entrance leading to your apartment that you share with your boyfriend. The sun has set and it's well past dinner time but you have yet to see his face walking up the steps, blowing a kiss at your general direction.

You chew the inside of your cheek. He's late, you thought, peering out the window for the nth time while drying the dishes. You can't help but worry. Seokjin usually calls if he picked up an extra shift, but your phone has yet to move.

Today marks a year of the two of you living together. The year hasn't treated you kindly. A while back, your company had some budget cuts. Your department was abolished and unlike the lucky coworkers that were transferred, you were a part of the handful that received severance pay.

You figured going back to work would be easy, especially with your qualifications. However, you have yet to get a call from any of the places you applied to. With you unable to work, you spend your days maintaining the apartment. Your boyfriend, his smile ever present, told you he would just have to take more shifts.

‘You know, ______, housework is really hard to do,’ he remarked. ‘Besides, I make more than enough money to support us both.’

You smiled at your boyfriend then. It was true, there wasn’t really a need for you to go to work. You eased up on your stress over not finding work and dutifully cleaned the apartment.

You trudged your way to the entrance of the apartment. Head resting on the front door before unlocking it with your key. Seokjin was drinking tea by the window sill, looking as ethereal as ever. He noticed you had entered the apartment, smiling lovingly at you.

Before he had a chance to say hello, you broke the news about what happened during work. Instantly, your boyfriend came towards you, his smile faltering as he saw the state you were in. The fatigue in your bones left you slumped on the ground.

Seokjin did not say a word, opted to close and lock the door behind you before sinking to his knees to meet you at eye level.

‘Hey,’ he murmured softly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

He nudged your shoulder and you fell to his embrace. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You whimper softly as you seize his dress shirt, hot tears falling on his dress shirt, turning the color a shade darker than it was. Your knuckles turned white as your chest rose and fell rapidly, ragged breathing moaning the loss. And yet, your Seokjin rubbed circles on your back soothingly, hugging you tightly, not saying a word.

‘Sorry,’ you remembered mumbling as the coil in your stomach loosened.

‘Don’t be sorry, _____, there’s no reason for you too,’ he whispered back.

Silence fell before he piped up. ‘What do you call a bike that can’t stand on its own?’ he waggled his eyebrows when you looked at him, confused at what he’s saying. It took you a good moment to know that he was joking.

‘Two-tired!’ he exclaimed, laughing at his own joke. You smiled at your lover and before long, laughed along with him; his joy infecting your sadness.

He took out his handkerchief, wiping the streaks of tears away and giving it to you. At his gesture, you snickered before dissolving once more into tears. He had fretted then, worried that he had done something wrong.

‘I’m so lucky,’ you mumbled in tears. ‘Lucky to have you as my boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.’

He smiled softly at your comment, proceeded to pull you in his lap. ‘So, what do you want to do now?’

‘Easy,’ you sniffled, plastering a smile on your face. ‘We order fried chicken and drink!’

Seokjin had looked at you funny, surprised to hear you crave alcohol. Your smile was infectious and he ruffled your hair to agree. ‘That’s my girl!’ he exclaimed. ‘Let’s find you an even better paying job, okay?’

He was so enthusiastic, making the tragedy that happened to you that day seem so… trivial. You got drunk that night, your body not used to the alcohol.

You smile softly at the memory that happened after, your boyfriend’s hair stuck to his face, panting heavily as you came all over him. You try to push the memory away, focusing instead on your task at hand, but the damage was done- you're wet.

You chew on your bottom lip, hands traveling lower, touching your folds.

I’ll just start without him.Something nagged at your brain, and as your fingers sought out your clit, you realize how unsatisfying it would be without your boyfriend coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

You moan, anticipation and desperation threatening to consume you. Distracting yourself, you went through your mental checklist again. Skimpy apron? Check. Food? It’s cold because it’s been in the fridge, but check. The line that you’ve been practicing for the past few months to win over your boyfriend? Check, check, and check.

You glance again and the parking lot was empty now, its residents taking space in their respective homes. No sign of Seokjin.

You huff, grabbing your phone and pressing the on power roughly, almost causing it to clatter on the ground. Almost. Your screen flickers on and you see an image of him smiling back at you. You stuck your tongue out at his face, and punched a string of numbers you know by heart.

The line rang for a long time. You were about to let it go to voicemail. At the last second, you hear a tired voice answer you.

“Darling?” Seokjin’s voice was gruff and sleepy. You can make a mental image of him running a hand through his hair. He sounded distracted, probably looking at his spreadsheets as the numbers start to blur together.

"Hi," you try cheerfully, clearing your throat, hoping he can’t hear the anticipation across the phone. You cradle the device between your ear and your shoulder before brushing lint from your apron. "Are you coming home soon?"

Seokjin looked at his watch, knowing something was clearly bothering you. Looking at the time, he scrambled to his feet: 19:32.

"Wh-Wha--?" came the stunned response. You hear Seokjin push his chair back and the familiar beep of his computer turning off. You laugh quietly as you hear doors slam and his voice echoing in the staircase.

"Oh, _____, I'm so sorry. I had no idea what time it was," he pants, high on adrenaline trying to get home as soon as possible.

"I'm so sorry, ______. I'll be home soon. You can start eating without me, okay?"

You feel a grin paint your face, relief that he was at work. "I'm okay! You must be hungry, love. Just glad you're finally coming home. I can't wait to see you. Drive safe!" you exclaim hurriedly, knowing he won’t want to call when he’s driving.

He murmured a confirmation and you ended the call. Seokjin may be late but there’s still cause for celebration. Settling the butterflies in your stomach, you open the fridge door to take out the food you had prepared earlier, heating them up.

You finally see a familiar figure run from his parking space. His dress shirt untucked and he stopped for only a moment to blow a kiss towards you. His hair clung to his scalp, his tie was loose, and his eyes shining with adoration. You waved back quickly before seeing him disappear into the building.

Seokjin expected you to be angry, ready to apologize for coming home so late. At the very least, he expected a hug, you seemed happy enough, asking how his day was in the office. What he didn’t expect was you in an apron… wearing nothing else. His eyes roamed your body, stunned at the lack of clothes, briefcase dropping heavily on the floor.

"Are you going to close the door?" he heard you ask.

Never taking his eyes off of you, he closed and locked the door, sliding out of his work shoes. Like a deer caught in headlights, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you approached him.

You hear him gasp as you get closer, his face incredulous. You pressed your chest towards his, relishing in his ears turning red.

"Now,” you smirk and grab a hold of his tie. “Would you like to start with dinner,"-- you croon as you fling it behind you.

"-a bath,” you say seductively as you open the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt. “-or me?" you finish, dress shirt completely unbuttoned as you watch his delicious figure.

You don't often see your boyfriend at a loss for words. But this... this was something else. Seokjin opened and closed his mouth, blinking rapidly. You hid your smile behind closed lips, enjoying the fact you’re making him squirm.

"What did you make for dinner?" he stammered, forcing a chuckle.

You waved at the table. "The works, japchae, fried chicken, corn, kimchi… You know, our favourites."

"Huh..." he managed, swallowing. Seokjin knew how hungry he was when he left the office, but he couldn't seem to focus on the steaming delicacies on the table. He turned his gaze back to you, slowly closing the distance between your lips.

"Good answer," you murmur.

"Didn't know it was a test," he whispered, dipping his head back down, claiming your soft lips once more.

You smiled into the kiss, content that he was finally home. His hands stopped trembling as it snaked lower. One hand circled your waist, the other trailing soft circles on your back. You shivered at his delicate touch, arching your back into his hand to feel more.

Seokjin seemed to understand your signal and lifted you up, making your way through the living room to reach your bed. Once you landed with a soft plop, he continued the kiss. Heat was rising to his cheeks as he fully shrugged his dress shirt off, returning shortly to connect his lips to yours.

"Jin, I can't see... it's too dark in here," you whined, feeling your skin burn where he touched your body.

You did not receive an immediate response from your beloved, only hearing the thud of a belt on the floor and you hoped his pants came off with it.

"I think it's the perfect amount of light to make you squirm," he whispers. You feel the mattress sink with his weight and the heated kiss resumes, your hands flying to tug at his hair with urgency. You start to feel feverish from the kiss, trying desperately to connect your hips to something so you can feel the first waves of pleasure. You’ve been waiting for such a long time.

He smiles at your impatience and starts tweaking your clothed nipple. "Off..." you whined, wanting the apron gone.

Seokjin slipped the shoulder straps down. You arch your back and he untied the ribbon holding everything together easily. He threw it over his shoulder and finally, his large palms directly touched your tits. He sucked on a nipple while his hands were busy, roaming every inch of your body. You moaned underneath him, thrusting your chest upwards to give him more access.

"Mmm..." you sigh as his hand travelled south and pressed onto your clit.

"You're so wet already," he released your nipple, chuckling darkly. "Have you been waiting all day? Did you want to be fucked that badly?"

You winced at his words. He continued circling your clit, waiting patiently for your answer. "Well?"

"Yes, darling," you pant out. "I have been waiting all day for you! Ah- and you were late," you whined pathetically.

He chuckled again, muttering apologies under his breath while he continues to play with your clit, your nipple back in his mouth. You knew you were going to get a real apology after you're done, but this was enough.

You felt his finger enter your pussy, testing out to see how tight you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut as he added another finger, eliciting a moan from you.

"Yeah? You like that?" came the breathy response.

Your head spun as he curled his fingers at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb pressed and circled on your clit, his pace getting faster and his thrusts getting deeper.

"Jin, I'm close," you squeak out, squirming at his unrelenting force. Your high was right there, waiting for your undoing. But your boyfriend had other plans and his thrusts stopped completely before you came.

You whined, your hands tugging at his hair dangerously. Frustration swept overr your face as it turned even more crimson than his ears. "J-Jin..." you grumble weakly, catching your breath. Your cunt squeezed at nothing when he removed his fingers completely.

"Wanted to feel you cum on my dick," was his simple response.

In the fog of your pleasure, you weren't aware of his veiny cock rapidly growing harder, tip already leaking precum. You stared, dazed as he pumped his length. You also had other plans when you moved to the floor.

You licked a stripe down from the tip to the base, earning a hiss from your boyfriend. His eyes fluttering shut when you look up, his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth.

You suck lightly at first, taking care that your teeth don't make contact with his sensitive member and begin bobbing to a rhythm. He groaned as you stuffed your mouth with his cock, hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair.

"Ah- ________, ah-, can I move?" he huffed out, unable to form sentences without groans.

You moaned to signal your affirmation and he used your hair as leverage to pull you closer to the base. You struggled and gagged, feeling so fucking full. You whimper as he held you there, his head falling back with a groan.

Seokjin snapped his hips, thrusting deeper into your throat. The sensation made you moan, tears blurring your vision. He picked up the pace when he saw you, loves the view of you struggling with his cock in your mouth.

He loved to ruin you, would never admit that out loud, but seeing his lover whimper and sob because he was too big made him moan. Seokjin was holding your head in place, letting his hips do all the work. You groaned out, the vibrations on his cock almost sent him over the edge.

You knew he was close. In ragged breaths, he was saying how beautiful you were, how well you were taking his cock, how amazing you felt, and all the sweet nothings you often hear. However, when his thrusts turned messy, an indication that he was close, you shifted backwards and his beautiful cock fell out of your mouth.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, careening forward. He held your head in place for balance, not wanting to fall, worried he hurt you somehow. However, he was greeted with a teasing grin. "Payback, love," was all you said smugly.

You knew you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons that way. But you couldn't help it, knowing the wonderful outcome that awaits you.

He growled, anger flaring with every second that passed since you denied his release. "Bed. Now,” he muttered under his breath. You obliged at his command, though you did it slowly, never taking your eyes of him

This side of Seokjin rarely comes out to play. He was always worried he'd hurt you.

‘Yeah, that's the point,’ you snorted, recalling the memory of explaining what you wanted like he was 5.

Even still, this was a welcomed surprise. You made a mental note of how you pushed his buttons that day, hoping to recreate it in future events.

You were about to sit on the bed when you turned around, climbing on all fours instead, excited about what he would do to you.

“That’s not what I asked you to do, slut” he chuckled, waiting for you to get settled. You teased your ass, moving it closer towards his dick before pulling back.

You didn't anticipate the first slap, the sound of his palm hitting your skin filling the room. You moaned, wiggling your ass towards his face, eyes shining bright with lust.

"Ah- you like being spanked, huh?” Seokjin said, scratching his chin. “Who knew you'd this much of a slut."

You moaned at the word, loving when he said such mean things to you. Your knees buckled when the next smack wasn’t on your ass. He clicked his tongue as he watched your juices flow out from having your cunt smacked. Seokjin reached gingerly towards your clit, teasing it to ease the pain.

"Oh?" he said simply before smacking you again, this time back at your ass. He alternated between slapping your ass and your sopping cunt, the uncertainty of where the next pain would land causing you to see stars.

You whimpered and whined underneath him. Fully lying on your stomach, your ass no longer in the air. You held a pillow, moaning into it, praying the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise. "J-Jin... please fuck me."

"Huh, I didn’t know this one could beg," he chuckled. The thought of him being with another slut left a twinge in your chest, but that jealousy subsided when he slapped you hard this time, snapping your mind from your thoughts. There was some shuffling behind you and you felt the tip of his cock on your entrance, Seokjin coating his erection with your juices.

"Shit- it's so slippery..." he said mockingly, "slipping" past your cunt. "I can't seem to get it in."

His teasing left you desperate, clinging so hard on to the pillow that your knuckles started to turn white. And just as you felt the anticipation was too much, Seokjin thrusted into you fully, his girth entering you all at once, not caring that you usually needed time to adjust to his cock.

Seokjin dragged you closer towards him, your legs off the bed. He held your neck down with his arm and thrusted hard into your cunt. Before long, you begged silently as your high approaches, hoping that this time your boyfriend would let you cum.

"Baby, I- I'm close."

"Are you now, sweetheart?" You nodded and whimpered at his question. Your voice was getting higher, moans filling your small bedroom.

And he stopped again.

You buried your face in the pillow to scream. You were so agonizingly close and he denied you just like that. Tears fall out of your eyes now, you hiccup and sob, glaring daggers at him.

Normal Seokjin would've scooped you into his arms, a myriad of apologies would spill from his mouth.

But not this time. Instead, he grabbed your hips with his muscular arms before flipping you over so you lay flat on the bed. His cock went back inside, thrusting slowly while he spun circles on your sensitive folds.

"Please-" You breathe in deep, trying to stabilize your hiccups.

"One more for me?" he asked. His voice low and husky.

You start shaking your head, pleading, no- you couldn’t do it again. You were begging him to let you cum. He continued his shallow thrusts and his attention on your clit. You sigh underneath him, overstimulated beyond belief.

"One more," he insisted and leaned close to your ear. "For one whole year of living together." He nibbled on the shell before moving down to your neck. "Please?" You moan when he sucked on the delicate flesh.

You melted into his embrace and nod. "One more."

Perhaps you should've considered longer. Perhaps it was your lust-addled brain that made you say yes. Perhaps you should not have fallen for his devilish charm. But it’s all too late now as he lay on the bed, and you climbed over him.

"Mmph..." you moan, throwing your head back while you grind your pussy on his cock. You snuck a glance below only to find seeing your boyfriend drowning in pleasure.

You leaned forward and bumped your forehead with his. Seokjin's eyes open gently. He pants quietly as he cups your face, gently stroking it with his thumb. An angelic smile spreads upon his face, love and affection in his eyes. You whined as you continue riding him, trying to chase your own high while helping him with his, picking up the pace.

You were still moving a bit too slowly for his liking so he thrusted his hips to match your movements. It sent shivers down your spine and you moan deliciously.

"Baby, I can't- ah- Jin..." you pant, bouncing and grinding on his cock, just then realizing how close you actually were. You expected the stop, but it didn't make it any easier. Your boyfriend stopped his movements and held your hips firm, causing your body to convulse.

Seokjin sat up quickly, hugging and kissing your face profusely. "You did such a good job, ______." he said, his apologies in the form of kisses. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You were so pretty bouncing on my cock like that."

You sigh and smiled weakly at him, "Can I rest?" you asked meekly.

You hear him genuinely laugh. His friends always said that his laugh sounded like windshield wipers. But to you, it sounded like wind chimes dancing in the summer.

Seokjin grabbed you and laid you down on the bed gently. He turned to his side and stroked your hair. You faced him, a content smile on your face as you also stroke his cheek.

"I love you."

The sudden confession made you halt. You knew Seokjin meant it. However, he does not say I love you very often. He shows his love with physical touch and "have you eaten?" questions that make you feel so happy he cared. But hearing him say he loved you almost made you cry. Almost. You had enough tears for the day.

"I love you too, darling."

You scoot closer to kiss him, tongue asking permission to enter. He groans when they collide. Your spare hand moved down and stroked his softening cock gently but he sprung up instantly.

"I kinda blue-balled you, sorry," you broke the kiss sheepishly. Seokjin just chuckled and continued the kiss, moving on top of you.

“Are you okay for more?” he asked, back to his usual self.

You nodded enthusiastically.

His cock slid in effortlessly, your pussy already wet and stretched out enough to take him in without any discomfort. Pleasure caused your body to groan. You wanted so badly to come.

He held up both your legs and toyed with your clit. He was able to thrust easily into you. He started out slow, making sure that you were actually okay before it turned manic, his cock going in and out of you with such force.

You whined when his thumb pushed harder on your clit, feeling your walls clench at his huge dick.

His cock going deeper and deeper inside you combined with him touching your clit was all it took. You were suddenly right there, at the edge of pleasure before you snap. You yell his name, your voice getting increasingly higher. You look at him with desperate eyes.

"Cum on my cock, ____," he groaned, marveling at how tight you were getting.

He kept the pace and soon, you were moaning his name, your juices creaming his cock. You loved being filled. You were so full as your walls clenched around him.

A few more hard thrusts and he joined you in pleasure. "Ah- _____," he moaned out as your walls were painted white. You winced when you thought Seokjin was going to fall on top of you, though he caught himself at the last second.

He slid out of you with a hiss and ran to get a towel to clean you up. After he was done, the towel was placed in the laundry basket, along with all the clothes that were discarded from the floor. You roll your eyes, knowing how neat your boyfriend was.

He plopped right next to you and you cuddled closer, throwing an arm over his muscled abdomen.

"Hi," he sighed out in bliss, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "Happy one year anniversary of living together, my dear."

His head dipped towards your and you both nuzzle your nose at each other. "Happy one year, Jin."

"So," he started, clearing his throat. "I can tell you liked getting spanked. Push my buttons some more and maybe it'll happen more often," he laughed at his own comment., waggling his eyebrows at your direction.

This time, it was you who were at a loss for words. You shook your head, rolling your eyes before snuggling so close to him. You found the perfect spot on his chest, as always, pulling the blankets towards the both of you.

He removed himself from underneath you and stared seriously into your eyes. "I know I don't say it enough,"-- you smiled as you notice his ears turning red again-- "but I meant what I said. I do, love you, ____." He held your gaze and you found the strength to sit up slightly to kiss him.

"I know, Jin. This was enough. You are enough."

You've never seen him so giddy and he kissed your forehead again, finally settling down.

"Good night, Kim Seokjin. I’ll clean the food in the morning," you say drowsily.

"Don’t worry, let me get it. Good night, soon-to-be Kim _____," he whispered. You heard the comment but you were tired to ask what he meant. In the morning, you thought to yourself. I'll deal with that in the morning.

When you finally slept, soft snores filling the room, Seokjin got up, carefully detangling him from your arms. You protest slightly but rolled over, not waking up. He padded softly to the kitchen to put the food away. Washing his hands, he looked to the bedroom once more to make sure you were indeed asleep, before opening his briefcase.

Inside, there was a small blue box and Seokjin opened it gingerly, fearing the worst. He sighed in relief as the band reflected a light coming from outside, still intact even though he dropped it earlier. He closed the small box and placed it back in his briefcase.

Seokjin came back to the room to find you had gotten up, hands rubbing your eyes. “Where did you go?”

“Bathroom and grabbed a glass of water,” he lied casually, praying that you didn’t see anything, his heart hammering in his chest.

You mumbled something and he sighed in relief, putting on a pair of boxers before snuggling you close, kissing your forehead.

All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ and fictional.

Any resemblance is just a work of fiction.

All rights © bangtanhome.tumblr.com

Posted on 04.13.2021 at 11:11am GMT+7.

[kimnjss]

looks different | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: angst, not even kidding...

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 4.2K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any. except a very sad min yoongi :( yeah, if you got tissues - bring ‘em. 

⤑ A/N: okay so first of all?? guys!! thank you sooo much, for the quick support i’ve been getting for this fic! i mean we’re only five chapters in nd ., ugh!! just thank you sooo much i love you guyss!! also~ don’t get mad at yoongi, he’s just out here trying his best :(

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:31

It's automatic the way his heart stutters at the sight of you walking through the glass doors of the studio lobby. Every last moment he's rushed down to this very lobby to wait for you, the biggest of smiles taking over his features when you'd finally arrive. More often than not with something healthy for him to eat, paired with the nagging of how he should stop ordering out even if he was working late.

His heart would stutter than too.

Different this time, though. Feeling more relieved than anything. There's no telling the dark places his mind has gone in the years that you've been gone – wondering what could've happened to you. And now you're here – safe. Yoongi loved you, of course, he'd feel relieved knowing that you were fine.

Fine, but different. He can't help but notice all the things about you that just... looks different. Your hair, the long dark waves that he loved to bury his hands in now cut short falling just below your chin. Made you look much older than your new twenty-four. Birthday had just passed, he remembered.

Your hips much, much wider. He can't help but pick up on that huge detail as they sway with each step you take closer to him. Very slow steps, for the record. Nervous steps. The same way you'd approach him if you were wielding bad news. That didn't change. Neither did the tentative way you nibbled at your lower lip, fingers pushing your hair behind your ear as you locked eyes with him.

The nerve to smile. Actually push the corners of your lips up and smile at him, but he's reacting the way he always has. Mouth dropping in slight awe because you were so pretty when you smiled. Even if it was riddled with anxiety.

Yoongi stands just as you're stopping in front of him, eyes traveling over his frame in wonder. He had changed in the past three years too. The hair that he kept bleached now it's natural dark color, his once lanky skinny frame holding more muscle. He's been eating well lately and you can tell in the fullness of his face.

Never the type of guy to wear his wealth, but you can't help but notice the diamond-studded single chain that hangs from his neck. A dazzling 'A' pendant hanging from it. Just a plain black tee and sweats, probably spent the day mixing and didn't bother to change from his night clothes.

That was so like him. And you had no idea how much you missed him until now. Seeing him, so close that you could reach out and touch him. But you don't, given the circumstance. No matter how much you want to – it'd be inappropriate. Could basically feel how angry he was, keeping your distance was best.

Realizing, the two of you had been standing there for quite some time – speaking no words, you decide to be the one to break the ice. It was your fault you were even in this situation, to begin with, right?

“Yoongi-,” You start, ready to explain yourself. Right then and there, lay it out flat for him. Everything. Why you left. The baby. What has happened in the past three years. But you're not given the chance.

His dark eyes widen at the sound of your voice as if he hadn't expected to actually hear you speak, as if you weren't real. And he's reacting all at once, arms reaching out to circle around your waist and pulling you into his chest. The force of his pull surprises you, but not enough to keep you from closing him in.

He smells the same. Has definitely swapped his cologne in the time passed, but that doesn't change a thing. He still smells like him. And you missed him. The sob that breaks through his chest, vibrates your body. With his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, arms clutching you close to his chest – he cries.

Not able to properly handle the emotions overwhelming his body, so he can't do anything but cry. Happy tears that you're safe, that none of the terrible things he thought had happened. Sad tears that you felt the need to leave him without a trace, leaving him to wonder what he could've done to make you feel so alone. Angry tears for all the shit you put him through by leaving, because he hadn't done anything wrong – it took him a while to realize that one.

All of those tears soaked the collar of your shirt, shaking his back. Fists clenching the fabric of his shirt, you forced yourself to keep your composure. To not break down the way you wanted because right now he needed you to be strong for him. You had no right to cry when this was your fault.

“I'm so sorry,” The words come out hushed at first before you're repeating louder. And then again. Until they're falling from your lips over and over again, you're worried they might lose their meaning. 

But you don't stop, because ever since you made the decision to leave him – apologizing was the only thing you wanted to do. Woke up every morning with a new way to tell him, to express to him, how sorry you were. How shitty you felt by doing this to him. And now that you had the chance, all your practice speeches were gone out the window.

All you could muster was a simple 'I'm sorry' and hope that it held as much weight as it did in your heart.

The two of you stay standing there for moments to pass, your hand soothingly rubbing his back as he let out the frustrations he had been feeling for the past years onto your shoulder.

He's pulling back only after he's calmed down, eyes glossed and cheeks flushed as he searches your features. A soft, cool hand finding the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Are you sure you're okay?” The slight crack in his voice from his crying nearly shatters your heart.

“I'm okay. I'm so sorry, Yoongi...” Again, you try to find the words, but you're at a loss. Don't know what to say, no matter how many times you’ve imagined this exact moment. Where do you start? How do you get him to see that this, him like this, was not what you wanted when you left?

“I can't believe it's really you.” Both hands sliding down the sides of your arms until he's able to reach for your hands, loosely holding them in his as he has done a thousand times before. “We have a son?”

The words that leave his lips are hushed as if he's afraid to say them out loud. Afraid to let you hear him. But you do. Loud and clear. And your eyes are widening at his words. He knew? How could he...

“Your Instagram. The pictures, that little boy. He's my son?” His ability to read your mind hasn't faltered. You can see the sadness in his eyes, clearly. And you know exactly why it's there and it's your fault. All because you were too much of a coward.

The weight starts in your chest, quickly rushing up your throat until a sob is breaking through. Eyes watering as fresh tears slide down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Yoongi. I-I should've... I didn't think-” You try to speak through your cries, but he stops your struggle; reaching to pull you into his chest again.

Gentle fingers stroke the back of your head, twisting in your short strands of hair. “Shh, it's okay. Relax, it's alright.” Except it wasn't. He knew that and you did too. Because of your stupidity, he lost the first three years of his son's life, time that he would never get back and it was all your fault.

He should be angry at you. Screaming at you. Cursing you ten times over. Not holding you and stroking your hair and telling you that it'll be okay. This was wrong. You didn't deserve his kindness, you didn't deserve him.

Lifting your hands to find his chest, you're gently pushing yourself back to create some distance between the two of you. “I'm sorry, Yoongi. I should've trusted you.” No idea that your trust in him and wavered, but Yoongi doesn't dwell on the small detail. He had a son now. He was a father. There were bigger things to focus on.

“Hey, listen. Whatever happened, happened. We can't change it, alright? Why don't we go somewhere? Get something to eat so we can talk properly?” You're nodding at the request despite the fact that you're not all that hungry. Can't eat with the guilt filling your stomach.

Yet, the last thing you want to do is stay in this studio. Haunted by the memories that the two of you made in this very lobby, every square inch of this place was covered with the two of you – and you ruined that.

Never realized how shitty being back here would make you feel and now you needed to get out.

An easy smile is spreading across his face at your agreement, a gentle hand rubbing at your shoulder. “Why don't you go wait outside? I'll call my driver.” You don't even bother to mull over the fact that he has his own driver now. One of the perks that came with his new lifestyle, you assume.

With another small nod, you're turning to exit the building to wait for him. Mind racing with how you'd be able to tell him about this without ruining everything he has now. He's accomplished so much and here you come ready to ruin everything. 

Again.

Two large men lead you into a restaurant a bit too fancy for a late lunch that neither of you is in the mood for. Ushering you to a table hidden in the back corner before stealing seats a few feet away. Yoongi orders food for the both of you when the waitress is coming with waters. 

“Water? Think we might need something a little stronger for the conversation we're about to have.” Trying to lighten the mood, but the stone-cold expression on his face as the nervous laugh dying on your lips.

Lips pulled into a tight line, you watch as he reaches for the wrapped straw at the side of the table. He takes his time with peeling the paper from it before crumpling it between his fingers, dipping the straw into the iced drink with the other hand.

“I don't drink anymore.”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise at his quiet admission. You had always known Yoongi to be a man that valued a good glass of whiskey. Liked to have a few sips while he worked, always brought his own bottle to parties claiming 'you young-ins don't know how to drink'.

He always knew his limit, a couple of glasses here and there but he'd never push it where it became an awful habit. Made sure of it. But the sound of his voice when telling you he quit? Told you that he might've slipped in that department. And you can't help but wonder if that was your fault too.

“Tell me about my kid. What's he like?” Clearing his throat, his back straightens slightly – in an attempt to change the subject. Put a halt to all the questions he knows are bouncing around in that head of yours.

And you know him well enough to know when he doesn't want to be pushed. So you allow the shift, unwrapping your straw and dropping it into the glass.

“He's like most three-year-olds, you know? I named him Hyunki.” Another thing that you had wanted to tell him since you left. 

It had only been a few months into your relationship when Yoongi told you. The largest of smiles on his face as he went through the list he kept locked away in his head, gauging your expressions as he listed each off. As if he was checking to see if you liked any of them.

SEPTEMBER 18TH, 2015 | 21:42

“You're telling me you've never given it any thought?” The surprise is clear in your boyfriend's voice as he cranes his neck to get a better look at you. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, holding you to his chest.

The movie that he had picked out has faded to background noise since he started this random conversation. If you had been paying attention to the screen rather than noting every cute thing he did, you'd know that his words weren’t as random as you thought. That they were related to the passing scene.

It was so hard to concentrate around him, you were discovering. Could never focus too long on the things that didn't involve him when he was near you. Always found yourself lost in those pretty dark eyes or mesmerized by that gummy smile of his. 

How were you supposed to focus on the plot of a movie when the world's most attractive man was behind you? Holding you to him and chuckling so close to your ear it was like surround sound made just for you. You didn't even remember the name of the damn film.

“I can honestly say I don't have the identity of my future children chosen.” You speak through a laugh as he’s rolling his eyes, hands falling low on your waist until he's able to grasp your hips.

Easily, he's lifting your body from between his legs, turning you to straddle his lap. The movie has been forgotten in his mind too. Your hands find the sides of his neck, tips of your fingers tickling his blond hair. “That's not what I mean, you can't pick who your kids are gonna be.” He speaks in a matter-of-fact tone that has a smile tugging on your lips.

Soft hands find the backs of your thighs, holding your body to his. Yoongi tilts his head back just slightly so he can get a better view of your face. Searching your features carefully before he says what he's thinking.

Can basically see the wheels turning in his head as his nibbles on his lower lip, deep in thought while he watching you. And you watch him right back, lips pursed in an attempt to mask the smile threatening to take over your features. You had always loved the way he looked at you.

“What do you think of Hyunki, then?” Different from all the outrageous names he had listed before. Hyunki. You could definitely see yourself raising a little boy with his face and that name. But it's too early to say it, relationship still too new no matter how you felt. You didn't want to scare him away.

“Hyunki's nice.”

One of the hands he had rested on your back of your leg is shifting, moving forward so he can reach your stomach. Through the fabric of your t-shirt, he traces random patterns – eyes focused on the movement of his fingers.

“My first son. I want to call him Hyunki.” Eyes slowly traveling up the length of your body until he's pinning you with such an intense stare it has a gasp falling from your lips. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, hopeful.

“Okay. I like Hyunki.” Yoongi's smile grows on his face, head tilting up to capture your lips with his. His grip tightening around your thigh to pull your body further onto his. Large hand flattening on the small of your back, guiding you until you were lying underneath him.

That was the first night you slept together.

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:58

Warmth spread through his limbs with the knowledge that you had remembered your conversation all those years ago. Not only remembered it but honored him by using the name he had wanted. Just knowing that was enough to take a bit of the sting of leaving him away. Just a bit.

“So? What does he do? What does he like?” Had expected him to have more questions about you leaving, but it seemed his interest was elsewhere. And the least you could do was tell him whatever he wanted to know.

He was in charge here.

“He doesn't do much, you know?” A soft laugh falls from your lips, hand reaching up to push the hair from your face. “He's been really interested in sports lately. Plays soft basketball with Taehyung sometimes and-”

“Taehyung?” Yoongi's brow lifts at the mention of the unfamiliar name. Head tilting to the side slightly. “Who's Taehyung? One of his friends?”

“Kookie's boyfriend. He hasn't started preschool yet, so he doesn't really have any friends.” The waitress is heading toward the table, food in hand as two other women follow her.

Yoongi considers your words as the food is set down in front of you. Willing himself to keep calm as he takes in all the information that you're giving him. All of the things he missed. The fact that he has to ask questions about his own son, things that he should already know.

But he doesn't go off the way that he wants to, doesn't chastise you and place the blame exactly where it belongs. Instead, he's blowing a thick breath through his lips – leaning back against the cushion chairs.

“You moved to Busan, then?” From your countless stories about your best friend from Busan, he remembered enough to know that the 'Kookie' you were talking about was that same friend. So, the nod of your head is expected.

You watch as he blinks slowly, hand reaching for the clean utensils on the table. He clears his throat slightly, head tilting to the side in the way it does when he's thinking things over. Distracting himself by filling his personal plate with the various foods spread out in front of you two.

Silently, he gestures for you to eat and despite your hesitance, you move to fill your plate as well. Nervous. Pondering on whether or not you should just blurt it out. Ignore how he obviously doesn't want to know the ins and outs of your disappearance, if he did then he would be hitting you with questions, right?

Wished you were able to read him. Know what he was thinking right now. It had been something that you could do easily, simple gestures and facial expressions giving way to exactly what was going on in the head of his. However, it seemed that through time you've lost that ability.

“If he's three... shouldn't he be in preschool by now?” Yoongi's asking casually, shoveling a spoonful of food into his mouth as he watches you. How could he eat? Why wasn't he yelling at you? Pissed out of his mind. He's being so cool and it was throwing you.

You begin to eat after the expectant stare he gives you. Taking small bites, sitting on pins and needles in front of him. “Tae stays at home with him, but we were planning to enroll him once he's settled here a bit.”

There it was again, that 'we'. The 'we' that didn't include him in decisions that he should very well be included in. Only in this case, you weren't referring to the 'we' who decided on your disappearance, just the 'we' that have been helping you raise the son he had no idea about.

Yoongi can't help but feel bitter at the small fact. But he wills himself to bury it. Can't argue with you. Not when there's now so much at stake. When you have a kid that he doesn't even know, a kid that he wants to know. Needs to.

You held all the cards and without the knowledge of why you left in the first place, he had no idea what might set you off to where you were packing up and leaving again. That was the last thing he wanted, then and now.

He had to play his cards right.

Casual conversation remains steady between the two of you as you're finishing your meal. Filling Yoongi in on all the things he's missed in the past three years has your heart growing heavy. He's missed so much and it was because of you. Because you couldn't stand your ground and be with him.

He'd only ask you for one thing. Expected just one thing from you. And you couldn't even handle that.

“Does he know about me?” The words are coming out hushed after a stretch of silence. You had just finished sharing with Yoongi the slight obsession Hyunki has with Lego sets. How he could spend hours at his play table, building. He smiled real big at that, but from the slow way it vanished you could tell something was weighing on his mind. And this was it.

It pains you to shake your head. Hurts even worse when you see the sadness that flashes through his eyes. “Why not?” He's almost afraid of the answer, but can't keep himself from asking. 

“It's always been us, you know. Me, him, Tae and Kookie. And he likes having them around. I didn't want him to feel like he was missing out on something.” So young that he hadn't started asking questions yet. Wondering why kids around him had two parents instead of one plus two respective uncles.

You thought you had been making the right decision, but as this week was set out to prove – you had no idea what the right decision was. And judging from the look on Yoongi's face, you were more than positive that you had made the wrong decision by keeping the fact that Hyunki had a father secret.

“So who does he think is his dad?” He's doing the thing where he's trying to keep himself from losing it. That hasn't changed.

The slight twitch of his brow, the flare of his nostrils as he took deep calming breaths. Desperately trying to keep his composure and not freak out on you the way he wanted to, you wished he just let go and give you what you knew you deserved.

“No one,” You're rushing out, hoping it could do something to relax him. “I don't even think he knows what that means.” Flinching at your own words, you force a breath from your lips. You try to change course. “I honestly thought it would be better for him this way.”

Hesitantly, you reach for his hand that had balled into a fist on the table. Soothing fingers running over his knuckles. “You can tell him if you want. Do you want to meet him?”

“Obviously, I'd like to meet my son. He's my son.” There's harshness in his tone that he doesn't bother to mask. That you don't miss as he's pulling his hand from your grasp, going back to the meal in front of him.

Lunch ends in silence. Yoongi quietly pays the bill, mumbles a goodbye to you as he puts you in a cab. Doesn't even bother to look back as he turns with his bodyguards to walk toward the car that had brought you here.

Yoongi is slouching in the back seat of his car, arms crossed over his knees and face pressed against his sleeve. Of all the scenarios he's imagined with seeing you again, he never thought it'd be like this. Had been so sure it would be clear where he'd stand with you if you were to ever appear in his life again.

But, it wasn't that simple. Because nothing in his life was ever that simple. Of course, he still loved you – an annoying fact that was hard to ignore. Yet, he'd be able to do it, would be able to move on despite his heart being filled with you, if it wasn't for the fact that you had a kid together now.

A human binding the two of you, of which he hadn't even met. And he wanted to. Wanted nothing more than to be apart of that kid's life, but that meant being apart of your life too. He had been too afraid to get the answer's from you today, not wanting his deepest worry to become true within your words.

Not knowing was better than knowing in his mind. Whatever it was, why you left him – took your unborn child and bolted, he didn't want to know. Afraid that it would be something so horrible that it'd crumble his already cracked heart.

“Everything alright back there, Mister Agust?” His driver speaks noticing the shake of Yoongi's back that accompanies the fresh tears that roll down his cheeks. Face hidden, he takes a moment to compose himself before lifting his head.

The back of his hand wiping at his damp eyes before he's pushing his hair back on his forehead. Eyes shifting to look out the window as he nods his head. A heavy sigh falls from his lips, dark sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose to cover his reddening eyes.

Tires skid to a complete stop in front of the building and Yoongi is stepping out of the car, hands shoved in his pockets as he takes slow steps to the front doors of the studio.

Words leave his lips as a hushed plea, a delayed answer to the question he had been asked in the car. What he had been thinking since he first scrolled through your pictures, seeing the life you had created without him.

“I just want to see my kid.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

[aellynera]

Word of  Mouth (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

WORD OF MOUTH

(This has been sitting in my WIPs for-ev-errrrr and I finally got in the mood to finish it, since I haven’t written Santi in a while and I missed him. It’s nothing too involved, just a slice-of-life kind of deal, but I do like the way it turned out. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

I think this one came out as GN!Reader (I’ve read over it a few times but if I’m wrong please let me know.)

Word Count: 2340

Summary: It’s not that Santiago is mad about it, exactly; it’s more that he doesn’t like the way it happened.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst. Some fluff. Argument. Two people being stubborn. As always possible lack of proofreading.

Santiago comes off duty and returns to your on-base housing, and he stays quiet for far too long. Usually he greets you with a kiss, or at least a hello, but this time he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t say a word as he goes into the bedroom, peels off his fatigues, and changes into a plain black t-shirt and plain khaki cargo pants.

He doesn’t say a single word.

“Um, hello to you too,” you call out, getting up to follow him. “How was your day?”

He just shrugs and shakes his head slightly. You get the same response when you ask him if anything interesting happened today, how training went, or if he’s hungry.

You haven’t seen him for most of the day, different assignments and different meetings keeping you apart while on duty, but you just know. From his silence and the way he’s acting, you just know. You’ve been trying to find the right way to bring it up, the right time to mention it, and clearly, that time is going to be now whether you like it or not.

He’s found out.

Even when different assignments keep you apart, you do work on the same base and everyone knows you’re together, even if you never officially said anything. It’s really no one’s business but it’s not really a secret, and you live together, so people just assume. And anything work-related was never unknown for long. Word has gotten back to Santiago, and from the looks of it, it has also gotten to him.

The fact that you can’t actually read his expression is what concerns you the most.

You sit down on the side of the bed and sigh again. “Frankie told you.”

Someone who had been in that early morning meeting with you, a particular someone Santiago identified as a best friend, certainty couldn’t keep it to himself. You make a mental note to have a very, very strict conversation with one Francisco “Catfish” Morales the next time you see him.

Santiago considers calling Frankie, so he can repeat exactly what he told Santiago this afternoon, after you’d already gone back home for the day. Instead he finally decides to answer you, his voice flat and dangerous.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s my job,” you reply evenly.

“It’s your job if you get assigned to it,” he runs a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not your job if you volunteer for it. That’s a choice.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Semantics.”

“Selection,” he responds, voice clipped.

You rest your head on your fingertips, four on your forehead and thumb on your cheekbone. “I’m the best person for this mission. and.. it’s not like it’s never come up before. We’ve had this conversation, Santi, we’ve talked about this exact scenario, and you even said that no one was more…”

Santiago raises an eyebrow. “Hypothetical and actual are not the same thing.”

“So, hypothetically, I’m not actually qualified to do this?”

“Actually, you should let someone else be the flag-waver this time.”

“The flag-waver?”

“What, now this hypothetically has nothing to do with being a goddamn hero?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes narrow at him. He glares in return.

“Actually,” you start, but Santiago’s short, humorless laugh cuts you off.

This time, your words drag through the tension like dull razors through styrofoam. “Actually,” you repeat, “this has zero to do with being a fucking hero and everything to do with the fact that no one else could get this done the right way and it is my goddamn duty to do what I signed up for.”

“There is no right way that this isn’t going to be an absolute shitshow.” The venom in his voice is like ice in your veins.

“Thank you for having so much faith in me and my abilities, Santiago.”

Silence falls on the room for a few long minutes as you both fight to check your emotions. You understand he’s angry - and maybe scared, although he’ll never admit it - and he knows you’re absolutely right on all accounts - although he is not ready to admit it.

You break the silence, voice tuned down and level. “Look, I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn’t see you all day. I didn’t want you to find out like this. Frankie shouldn’t have gotten involved. But I am going on this mission. I...I don’t want you to be mad about it.”

He looks at you for a moment, and this time you can read his expression, but it almost makes it worse. It’s a combination of worry, sadness, understanding, and yes, traces of anger. It’s not a look that suits him. 

You shift in your spot on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he says softly, then turns and walks from the room.

Oh. Shit.

***

The rest of the evening passes in a thick, uncomfortable silence. It’s been hours since your confrontation in the bedroom, and the fullness of night has fallen without a single other word being spoken between you.

You spend the night in bed alone, and Santiago makes himself mostly uncomfortable on the couch.

Morning breaks and you pull yourself from the confines of the comforter. Not that you had been sleeping very well anyway. It was warm under the covers, temperature wise, but it somehow felt so cold, and you haven't slept well. Your mind refused to calm down.

You shower and dress, going through your morning routine almost on autopilot. As you wash your face and glance into the mirror, one side of your mouth pulls up into a sad smirk as you recall Santiago’s last words from the night before.

Not mad, disappointed.

Your parents used to say that, when you’d done something against the rules, potentially stupid, and possibly morally questionable. It always seemed to hurt more than actually having them be mad at you, and you wince as you realize adulthood has done nothing to change that feeling.

You and Santiago have your fair share of arguments. Usually they’re not serious, even kind of playful. You both like to talk and you both like to be right, so a little verbal battle isn’t uncommon. But you’re still running the previous night’s...it wasn’t a conversation, but was it really a fight? Was it even an argument? No category really seems to fit, and this one just feels different.

You go downstairs and expect to find Santi on the couch, it’s still early, but as soon as you hit the bottom of the steps, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaults your nose. 

He hands you a mug full of the dark brown liquid as you enter the kitchen. You take it with a nod of thanks and he nods back. But he still doesn’t say a word.

It’s a good sign though. At least, you hope it is, anyway.

You sip from your mug as he turns back to the stove, pushing some stuff around in a frying pan. It smells like bacon and potatoes and your stomach grumbles in protest, and you’re not sure but you think you can see the corners of Santi’s mouth turn up just a little.

Also a good sign. Maybe.

You sit down at your usual spot at the table and play with the handle on the mug. You offer him a singular glance and then stare back into your drink. Clearly he’s not going to be the one to talk first. You sigh.

This is not the first time he’s done this. Santiago is a good man, the best you know, and he’s honorable and decent and so fucking kind, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since living with him, it’s he’s damn stubborn and can be a petulant brat when he wants to. And in typical macho hero Santiago Garcia style, he will not be the first one to cave after an argument, especially when he thinks he’s right.

You’ll give him shit for it later, when all the animosity has worn off, but for now, you’re going to have to cut the tension. You’ve never been good with silence and it’s only been one night and now this brief bit of morning and it’s starting to get to you.

And okay, maybe you’re not always the best at communicating with him, either. So you’ll be the first to break, this time.

You sigh again. “Santi…”

He turns his head slightly, away from his work at the stove, and glances at you. An eyebrow goes up.

“Are we going to talk about this? For real?” you ask.

He shrugs and turns back to the contents of the pan.

A frustrated growl erupts from your chest as you push your chair back and take the three steps over to the stove. You grab the handle and push the pan off the heat, snapping the burner off as you do, and then whirl and stare at Santi. He narrows his eyes and takes a step back, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter by the sink.

“Please say something to me,” you bite out. God, he’s so frustrating sometimes. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first, but you cannot be upset with me for doing my goddamn job. For doing what I signed up to do. Just...fucking talk to me. Please.”

This time it’s Santi who sighs, and he runs a hand through his hair and massages a spot on the back of his neck. “I told you, I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” you nod, “but you really also can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t just be...wait, what?”

“I said,” he says, uncrossing his arms slowly and reaching for one of your hands, “I’m not.”

You just blink at him and bite your bottom lip.

“I just...I don’t like the thought of you being out there without me.” Your mouth opens to retort but he holds up a hand to stop you, and you close it again and he continues. “I know you can do this, I know you’re totally capable and you can handle yourself, you could probably kick my ass on any given day in sparring, but...I just…” his voice trails off and he turns to stare out the kitchen window.

You squeeze his hand firmly and pull his attention back to you. He looks so handsome, his hair still tousled slightly from sleep and his t-shirt wrinkled from being on the couch all night, but he also really does look troubled and it makes your heart drop. “What is it, Santi?”

“There’s always a danger with any mission,” he says softly. “And it just kills me that I can’t protect you. I just want to protect you and have you come back safe.”

Then he’s pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your neck, and you feel wet spots on your collarbone and it makes tears prick at your eyes too. Santi shakes slightly in your arms and you whisper soft, soothing words into his hair.

He’ll never admit it, but you know. He’s scared.

Because he’s not wrong. This mission has the potential to go sideways and tits-up at the same time, and then flip over backwards for good measure. And you have to admit, although you’re not going to admit it to him because that would likely make it so much worse, that you’d give anything to have him on this mission with you. But you can’t. You can just do your job and do it well, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. 

A common mantra in your line of work. One that you always stick to.

But you have so much more to lose this time, and Santi does too, and your breakfast is forgotten as you take him by the hand and drag him back up to your bedroom. You lead him to the bed and lie down on your side, pull him down with you, and curl up into his side. He just wraps his arms around you and holds on like you’re a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to come back to you,” you trace your fingers over his dog tags.

“I know,” he kisses under your ear.

You hope you’re telling the truth. He hopes you’re telling the truth. You both hold each other like it might be the last time, even though it won’t because you’re not leaving for several days, but you’re both acutely aware that you have no way of actually knowing when it might really be the last time.

So you just hold each other silently for a while, until a thought occurs to you and you huff out a gentle laugh.

“What?” Santi asks you, peering at you with heavy lids and stupidly long lashes.

You lean up to kiss him on the nose. “Wanna help me run some strategy?” 

His answer is cut off by the very insistent complaint from your stomach. He quirks an eyebrow. “Wanna have a breakfast meeting?”

You giggle. “Probably a good idea.”

Santi plants a kiss on your lips and then gets up, holding out a hand to pull you off the bed and you stand, stretching your arms over your head. He goes to the doorway and says, “I’ll go finish making the food. Meet you at the table in 20, Lieutenant.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” you smile at him.

He moves to leave, and then calls out, “Oh, and Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Santiago?” you roll your eyes, another giggle escaping your lips.

He sticks his head back in the door, just for a moment, just long enough to take all of you in with a look of adoration, and mouths the words “I love you.” Then he turns and goes downstairs.

And you know you can handle - no, you will handle - anything that might happen, and your heart soars.

~end~

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[cryptiql]

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.