#spoiled and thankful for so much tonight fuck I am tearing up a bit

[soulstagger]

Find yourself a friend who fully understands and gets your strange worries.

[primofate]

Headcanon

I’m also a big fan of My Hero Academia, so I hope you don’t mind if I post some of that here!

Scenario: An accident happens, he’s your emergency contact

Warning: Angst. Swearing. Injury. Hospitalization. Tears. Slight comfort. not proofread.

Characters: gn!reader x Deku, Todoroki

Want more? Here’s the masterlist:

https://primofate.tumblr.com/masterlist

Pro-hero Deku

“A-are you sure? I’m really sorry about this,”

Is probably the most apologetic that work called just as you were both walking back home. 

Keeps on thinking he might make it in time if he took you into his arms, ran to your front doorstep and then ran to work.

“Izu-kun, it’s fine, nothing’s gunna happen, I’ll text you when I’m home safe, I promise.” you say to him (and how wrong you were)

It wasn’t a villain. It was just a drunk driver swerving down the street, hitting the road railings and ramming straight into you. 

Deku keeps on checking his phone in the middle of his meeting to see if you’ve messaged him, as you promised.

When his meeting ends and there was still no message from you, he gets quite antsy.

“...Should I call them? But what if they’re just busy? No... they would’ve stuck to their promise... They never break their promises...”

Starts blowing up your phone on his way home, and when he doesn’t get an answer he starts panicking big time, biting his thumb. 

Sighs, it’s nearly 1 am. Contemplates going back to your place just to knock on your door when he gets a call from an unknown number.

“Hello? Is this... Midoriya-san? This is calling from Koyuki General Hospital, you’re listed as one of the emergency contacts for Y/N-san... Hello...? Hello?”

“Coming! I’m coming!” He had scrambled up as soon as he heard it was the hospital, fumbled with getting dressed and was running full speed, trying to flag down a taxi. Decides to use his quirk instead. “Are they okay? Please tell me they’re okay,” He pants into the phone, barely even hearing what the nurse had said.

“Well...” the nurse hesitates, and instead says “We’ll talk about their condition when you arrive,”

Curses under his breath and keeps on berating himself for not walking you back home. 

Nurse says that you’ve got several broken bones and that they’ve given you the meds to ease the pain. You’re gunna have to stay in the hospital for a while.

When finally allowed to go into your room, buries his head on the hospital bed sheet and silently cries frustrated tears at your mangled form.

What the hell kind of hero is he if he can’t even take care of his most precious one?

Of course when you wake up you reassure him it was an accident, and those happen. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re in so much pain though.

“You’re gunna have to serve me while I’m bedridden!” It was just a joke, but the serious look on his face tells you that he’s gunna be there every single day. Whether you like it or not.

Pro-hero Shoto

Is in the middle of a meeting. You just saw each other this morning, he dropped you off work and you went separate ways.

Does not expect a call from the hospital at all, so when his phone rings he ignores it for a bit, since he’s in the meeting.

10 minutes later there’s another call from the same number, he looks at his phone suspiciously, finally stands to excuse himself from the meeting and picks it up.

“Hello? Is this Todoroki-san?” the nurse on the other line definitely recognizes his name.

“Yes, speaking...” he’s baffled. Doesn’t know yet he’s talking to a nurse and wonders why her tone was so formal.

“This is calling from Koyuki General Hospital, you’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/N-san, is that correct?” 

“Emergency...Contact...” he says the words out loud to try and internalize it better and it hits him like a ton of bricks. Something happened to you.

He’s outta there. Fuck the meeting.

He is confused as all hell, just this morning you were energetic and even said you’d see him tonight.

“What’s wrong? Are they okay?” phone in between his shoulder and face, fumbles with his car keys, drops it on the floor, picks it up, tries to start the engine.

“We’re still monitoring their condition, we’ll tell you more when you’re free to visit them,” 

“What do you mean--” subtly getting anxious, specially by the way the nurse is dodging questions about you. “I’m coming right now,”

Arrives tense and stressed out. 

Nurse explains you tripped and fell down a flight of stairs at work. Nothing’s broken, just a sprained ankle but you hit your head pretty hard and they’re doing scans on it. Possible memory loss. 

Runs a hand through his two-toned hair, closing his eyes with a sigh. Head injuries could be a real pain.

Paces while waiting to be allowed in. When he is, you’re obviously out cold. 

Is looking at you with his arms crossed on his chest, face twisted into a rare image of worry. The nurse said you might not wake up till tomorrow.

So, no matter how much he wants to stay by your side his logical side takes over and he knows he can’t just abandon the magazine and television interviews he had scheduled for today.

“...Please call me as soon as she wakes up,” He tells the nurse. “I want to be informed, even if it’s in the middle of the night,”

“...But we don’t allow visitors in the middle of the night, sir...and we’d rather she took a rest,”

“...Then please tell them to call me, it’s just a small request,” Is not a pushy person but he ain’t gunna give up on the opportunity to hear that you’re safe.

Nurse sees the serious look on his face and agrees to it hesitantly.

Call came in at 2:32 am. Not that he was sleeping. He couldn’t. Had just been staring at his phone.

“Shoto-kun? It’s me,” He had’t realized his whole body had been stressed and tensed for the WHOLE day and only relaxes when he hears your voice.

AND YOU REMEMBER HIM. Thank God.

“How are you feeling?”  “Mm... tired. Really bad headache too. Ah, the nurse says I can’t stay on the phone for too long,”

You can’t see it but there’s a semi-pout on his lips, promises to see you at the earliest time he’s allowed to come over.

Brings all your favourite snacks and drinks and spoils you silly until you’re discharged.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts:

Epilogue:

--/--

6 Months Later

“Stop- Katsuki, stop it!” You huff a frustrated sigh, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Why can’t you just sit still?”

“Because this is takin’ too goddamn long! Waste of fuckin’ minutes.”

“Well this is important to me, so you’re gonna sit back and shut up and-“ You nearly scream when he shifts again, almost dislodging the measuring tape you’d wrapped around his wrist. “Sit still! Jesus, angry man, it’ll literally take two seconds if you just stop fighting me!”

He grumbles, something low and petulant under his breath, but then falls back against the couch fully. Bakugou finally relents, hand going slack in your hold as he shuts his eyes.

You were gonna kill him, no seriously, you were gonna murder him. He was being so difficult, way more difficult than usual, and you had a sneaking suspiscion it was because he was tired- because, as you’d quickly found out, from only a few months of dating, Katsuki was an absolute toddler about sleep. You’d come to understand that him being tired led to him being cranky, and him being cranky led to him being so goddamn annoying and combative that it made you want to tear your hair out.

He was lucky you loved him so much- not that you told him that yet.

You’d known you loved him for months now, could feel it the way your body heated if you thought of him, the way your blood sang if you so much as heard his name. It was a full body sensation for you- the way you loved him. There was just no escaping it; no escaping the way he’d carved himself a spot in every single part of you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, didn’t even want to try- but you couldn’t tell him so.

Every time you’d tried you were tongue-tied and stuttering and red in the face. The words were thick in your mouth, clogging up the back of your throat. You just couldn’t figure out how to say them; no matter how many times you’d tried. 

You flip his arm over, measuring the space between his thumb and his wrist. You’re trying to be delicate and gentle, but truthfully you really just wanted to get this done quickly.

With the deadline for your last college project quickly approaching, you’d spent the last few weeks doing nothing but devoting all your time and losing sleep over it. It seemed like no matter what support item you’d devised, it didn’t seem perfect- didn’t seem inspired enough to turn in for your final grade. So you dedicated yourself to watching clips and looked at hero rankings and pretty much sacrificed your social life entirely, just to stew over it. It took watching Bakugou’s own hero highlights with him to snap you out of your funk. You wanted to smack yourself; he’d been in front of you the entire time! Of course, it had to be an item for him. So you got to building and designing with renewed spirit.

Katsuki was an amazing fighter, you knew this, and his prowess in battle and raw power alone was quite literally unmatched by almost every opponent- but, the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t do so well with civilians. Try as he might, Bakugou’s loud, flashy, quirk just didn’t paint him as particularly friendly, and his brash personality didn’t help either. And, since you’d long ago given up trying to soften his character, but maybe you could help with his quirk. You figured that was pretty much your degree right?

So, for the past month or so, you’d been secretly working on a gauntlet attachment for him. You’d designed it to quiet his explosions, similar to a silencer on a gun, in hopes that civilians would stop reporting hearing loss after being saved by your very loud boyfriend. Truthfully, you knew it wouldn’t fix all his problems, but maybe then his ratings would go up a tiny bit. And, you figured, if you then just built the prototype you designed, then it could serve as a birthday present for him too. Two birds with one stone, right?

If only it was that simple.

It wasn’t. You were a perfectionist and you’d been pouring your blood, sweat, and tears for weeks now, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you were running out of time. Even now, while actively taking measurements for said project, you felt uneasy spending time with Bakugou. 

“You done yet, woman?” He peeks an eye open.

“Almost.” You grab your phone, typing the measurements into your notes. “See how easy and quick this went when you stopped being annoying?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ annoying if you’d just tell me what you’re makin’ already.”

“Nope. Already talked about this, Katsu,” You let go of his hand. “It’s a surprise! You don’t wanna spoil your birthday surprise, do you?”

You’re joking, smiling widely at him and fluttering your eyelashes. He doesn’t look very amused. Katsuki just squints at you for a moment before poking your side.

“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You’re being annoying. Stop it.”

“Fine. Well I guess since you don’t want it, maybe I just won’t give it to you then.” You tease, moving to leave the couch. “Maybe I just won’t give you any of the gifts I was planning to.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, huffs like he is very inconvienced, and grabs your wrist. He pulls until you’re falling into him, crashing into his chest and settling on his lap.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say that, idiot.” He grumbles, hands falling around your sides. “Stop putting shitty words in my mouth already.”

“I can’t. Pretty sure that’s my job actually.” You laugh, bracing your hands on his chest as you straighten. “Besides, you say like 3 words and all of them are swears, angry man. Someone’s gotta be the talker out of the two of us.”

“It shouldn’t be you. You’re better quiet.” His words were cold, but he was rubbing warm circles into your lower back. “Fuckin’ silent.”

“Wow- we sure are cranky tonight, huh, angry man? Is it bedtime for baby, already?”

“You’re not funny.”

“No, I’m pretty funny.” You laugh, brushing the the wild hair away from his forehead with a gentle hand. “But seriously though, if you’re tired, I don’t have to stay. I don’t mind, I can leave if you just want to sleep.”

He screws his face up at that, comically offended and dramatic as he drops his face into your shoulder. Katsuki’s arms wrap around your sides, pulling you close until you’re flush against his chest. He tightens his grip and doesn’t seem like he plans to let go any time soon.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, angry man, I get it. I won’t leave right now- but I can’t stay for too long.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“That project, remember? I’m nearly done.” 

He huffs again, arms curling tighter around you. You’re a little confused- truthfully, he usually is more physical than verbal, especially when he’s tired, but he’s never this physically affectionate. His voice is a near snarl when he speaks again.

“I fuckin’ hate that stupid as shit assignment.” 

 “Yeah, well, you hate pretty much everything; so I can’t say I’m exactly suprised, Katsuki.”

“No. Seriously.” He gruffs, fingers twitching at your sides. Katsuki takes a deep breath, biting out his next words quickly. “Haven’t seen you in fuckin’ days.”

“Aww-”

“Say another goddamn word and I’ll take it back, woman. Try me.” 

“Okay. I won’t.” You giggle. “But I really am serious, I can’t stay over tonight. Got work to do still.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou says and then he’s squeezing you once again, keeping you trapped tight against his chest. “You’re being stupid.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You snort, looking up at him. His mouth is pressed into a tense grimace, so you try patting his cheek playfully. “You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

He doesn’t seem to like your joke. Not at all.

“I’m kidding. I’m not going anywhere.” You console. “I’m only picking on you, you know, so don’t be so sensitive, angry man. You insult me all the time.”

“When the fuck did I insult ya?”

“Katsuki-“ You utter in disbelief, your hand moving to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. “You literally just called me stupid!  And you said you liked me better silent! Like 2 minutes ago!”

He shrugs, and you can feel his face heat against your neck, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re awfully lucky I like you so much.” You sigh. “Because otherwise I’d have to kick your teeth in every time you opened your mouth.”

“Like you could even get that close to me, shitty woman.”

“Strong words for a man currently making a home in my collarbone, Katsuki.”

“That’s-I- You know what,” He starts, extending an arm and pushing against your shoulders to create distance. “Say shit like that again and I swear to god I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll- I’ll fuckin-“ He stutters, face red and fists clenched. “I’ll-“

You think he looks adorable- all huffy and red and embarrassed where he sits. Katsuki’s eyebrows are pinched together in that competitive crease you’d come to know so well, his mouth curled around a familiar snarl. You were sure it must’ve looked terrfying to anyone else- but you weren’t just anyone else. You were his soulmate and you knew exactly how to get him to calm down.

You caught his face in both of your hands, crossing the distance until your lips met his. Bakugou tried to set the pace, because he always tried at first, armed with bruising pressure and dominance and uncoordinated aggression. You weren’t new here though- you had a lot more tricks of your sleeve than he did.

You ran a hand up his spine, your nails just barely catching on to the fabric of shirt, trailing the back of his neck until they landed in his hair. He damn near melted into you at that, and he pretty much dissolved when your other hand ran under the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna what now?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You’re breathless and blushing yourself but that never stopped you before. “C’mon, Katsuki, tell me. What you were gonna do?”

“I-huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” You giggled. Unable to help yourself, you pecked his lips again. “You seemed so determined though!”

He’s still dazed- red and embarrassed as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You can’t stop the victorious smirk that rolls across your face.

“You’re an evil fucking woman.” He finally says, breathless. “Shitty too.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Shouldn’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it. ‘S not a compliment, idiot.”

“I know.” You pat his chest, pushing away from him until you’re standing on your own. “Now, c’mon, up. Sleep time, right?”

You see the look on his face, and it almost kills you to crush it.

“No, that doesn’t mean I’m staying, angry man. I’ll take a nap with you and then I’m going home.” You offer your hand out to him. “Sound good?”

"Whatever.” He doesn’t seem all that pleased and he bats your hand away lightly, standing on his own. He starts down the hallway towards his bedroom with stomping steps and you follow. “You better actually go to sleep though- ya got ugly fuckin’ bags under your eyes, woman.”

You stop in your tracks, a wheeze escaping you. It didn’t matter how many conversations you’d had with him, how many times he’d accidentally insulted you with his blunt words, it still surprised you every time. And maybe it was your tired state, all the sleep lost over the past few weeks finally piling up, but his words hurt a little this time- hit a nerve and made you angry. 

“Alright, well, on that note. Maybe I will go home!” You huff, thumping a fist against his back. “That was so mean! What the hell, angry man! I’m literally busting my ass right now and that’s what you have to say to me? That I’m ugly to you? That’s fucking rude! I didn’t- I’m leaving. I don’t even have enough time for this anyway and I-”

He spins around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabs your arm. You can’t hit him anymore, not with the sturdy grip he has on your wrist, but the look on Katsuki’s face really makes you want to. He looks insulted, tired, but mostly just annoyed by your reaction. You swear you could kill him that moment, but then he’s gathering you into his chest and you’re melting against him. He’s still your soulmate- no matter how angry he makes you.

“N-not like that. Idiot. Not ugly.” He mumbles against your hair, voice tight and shy. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. “I meant- I- you’re not fuckin’ sleeping. I can see it. So you have to sleep.”

“I-what?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. You’re tired- it’s obvious. Have been for weeks.”

“You noticed?”

“Course I fuckin’ did.” He shifts on feet anxiously, swaying you a bit in your arms. “See your stupid face all the time- I can tell that shit about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” You pull back a bit in surprise, trying catch his eyes. He won’t let you, eyes zeroed on the wall, just behind your head. His face is a violent shade of red. You roll your eyes fondly, gently guiding him to look at you with your hands on his burning cheeks. “I shouldn’t have flipped, but that still wasn’t very nice. You really should’ve just said what you meant the first time around, but it’s fine. I understand. School’s just been tough with final assignments and stuff, you know? I’m alright though- just a little tired. Like you said.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows creasing as he grumbles something under his breath.

“What? Couldn’t hear you, angry man.”

“I said-” He starts strong, nearly confident until his tone quickly falls off. Then he’s mumbling again and crushing you to his chest so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 

“W-what are you trying to say?”

“God, you always make me say such embarrassing shit!” He growls, voice loud next to your ear. “I said- I said- you’re doing too much, idiot! You haven’t been around much and it’s fuckin’ makin’ me mad and worryin’ me and all that stupid, disgusting, annoying, shit! So just give yourself a fuckin’ break, already!” 

You’re pressed close to Katsuki, and when you press you hand flat against his chest, you can feel his heart racing wildly under your fingertips. He must’ve been upset about this for a while, you realize- to be expending this much energy, when usually he’d be dead on his feet at this time of night. You feel a little guilty for it, but more than anything you’re gooey and warm all over. 

“I-I’m sorry. For worrying you.” You soothe, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest. “And I know you tell me not to apologize to you, but I mean it this time. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” 

“Good. I-”

“Hmm?”

“N-nothing.” He stutters, flushing violently all of the sudden. He spins on his heels quickly, dragging you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “You have to stay now.”

“No- I can’t. I told you.”

“And I fuckin’ told you to chill the hell out and take a break.” He barks, digging through his dresser and throwing a pair of sweats at you. “Stop being fuckin’ difficult. You’re staying.” 

Truly, you want to fight him. Your brain is running wildly, a million different ideas and worries battering around inside your skull- but he’s right. You are tired. Have been tired for weeks now. If you went home now, you knew you’d just talk yourself into working some more. So maybe a tiny, tiny little break wouldn’t hurt, right? Just something small. A single night.

“Fine. But I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

You knew you made the right decision when he smiles at you; a small, tiny, pleased, little thing that just barely curls the edges of his mouth. It seems like it’d be hardly noticeable, but you’d been dreaming of that smile for months now. He very rarely graced you with it, very rarely shared something so delicate and uncharacteristically soft but it winded you every time. 

Katsuki fell asleep almost immediately after pulling your down into bed with him. He’d barely curled around you, hardly even let his head hit the pillow before beginning to snore. That smile stayed though. He kept it even as his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened. 

That same overwhelming warmth you’d been feeling for weeks overtook you again- that same blistering, endless affection rendering your limbs shaky and your breaths unsteady as you stared at him. 

I love him. You realized. More than anything.

--/--

As it turns out, letting Bakugou drag you into some much needed rest is exactly what you needed. 

The next morning you’d left his place, mind refreshed and completely reinvigorated to once again start working on the gauntlet attachment. You’d love to say it was just the sleep that fixed you up- but you knew the truth. It was him- him and increasingly strange ways of showing affection.

Settling down into your desk chair, you pulled the schematics you’d drawn up once more. There wasn’t much left to build, only a few more parts you’d need to fabricate with your quirk, and then you’d be ready to put it all together.

Using past records of his costumes, and studying various clips of him in his current costume, you’d finally felt certain that you’d gotten it right. It was a pain conducting the research, especially because you’d had to contact the support companies personally, but in the end you were happy you did it. You wanted this to be a possible improvement for him, but you also wanted it to fit in with his current arsenal. It was a risk for sure, giving your prototype as a gift, and you’d be totally crushed if decided to not use it, but you’d take the chance. 

Bakugou had only mentioned the problem a single time in the past, and even then it was a passing comment, but you couldn’t seem to let it go.

I’m sick of kid’s always fuckin’ cryin’ when I save them. My explosions aren’t that fuckin’ scary, are they? 

He’d said it in the middle of a rant, his eyes pressed tightly together as he paced angrily, but something about his tone struck you. When he said it, he didn’t sound angry. Bakugou sounded upset and frustrated and almost hopeless. You knew it bothered him more than he let on, and from then you wanted to help him- but you couldn’t imagine stripping him of his quirk. 

It, his explosions, were important to him. They were his power and his pride and they helped him save people. He was so, so proud of them, and it broke your heart to think that they were the only thing left holding him back. So, you figured, what if he kept the force but lost the sound? Kid’s normally liked bright lights a lot more than loud sounds, after all.

Grunting with effort, you began fabricating gears and wires and screws between your hands. It took hours and nearly all of your energy, but you’d finally done it. You had everything you needed to finish his gift. 

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of construction, and deadlines, and sleeplessness but by the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready. Your schematics had been turned in and approved by your professors, you’d passed your final project, and you were finally finished building the prototype. Everything was going great- but you knew why you were really happy.

The last few weeks had been packed for you, and you’d hardly had time for anybody. You felt guilty about it, of course, and you only felt worse when you only heard Bakugou’s voice over the phone each night, but there was no helping it.

Or, at least, there wasn’t- but it wasn’t crunch time anymore. You’d suddenly found yourself with an wealth of free-time, and you knew exactly who you were gonna spend it on.

--/--

Using the key he’d given you, you slipped into the apartment, closing the door quietly. It was difficult in the dark, stumbling slightly with the gifts and cake currently held in your hands, but you’d managed it. Everything had gone smoothly on the way there, you’d just put the cake safely in the fridge, and now you could wake your soulmate up to the best birthday of his life.

What shame he had to go and ruin it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You jumped, heart seizing in your chest. 

“Jesus- fuck.” You yelled in the dark. You blindly felt your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, towards the sound of his voice. “Bakugou! What the fuck, man?”

“What the- no! Me! I should be the one fuckin’ saying that!” His voice was raised, and you couldn’t see his fists but you knew they were probably clenched tightly into fists. “Almost blew you up, idiot! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh my god.” You huffed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes. “I was going to wake you up! Surprise you! Because it’s your birthday and it’s- wait, what the fuck are you even doing up? It’s like 6:30 AM, on a Saturday!”  

“What the hell are you even on about? I’m always fuckin’ awake right now!”

“Yeah! On a work day! When you’re working!” You can’t help but be frustrated; you wanted to be cute and sweet and Bakugou had ruined it entirely. As he so often did. “But you’re not even working today! It’s your day off! And I know you sleep in on those, so why?”

“Couldn’t fuckin’ slee-”

“What do you mean?” You interrupt, finally flipping the light switch and flooding the room with light. “Swear to god you’re dead to the world the second you hit the pillow! Literally happens every time I stay over. You’re out by 8:30! Why is today of all days the day you choose not to sleep?”

He doesn’t say anything in response to your outburst, and that’s when you finally look at him. It had been almost 3 weeks since you’d last visited, and he didn’t look like you remembered him. It wasn’t anything super obvious at first, but upon closer inspection you could see the deep bags under his eyes, and the pale, lifelessness of his skin. He was telling the truth; apparently, he really hadn’t be able to sleep- and it didn’t start just last night either.

“Hey. Katsuki,” Your irritation from earlier faded. Suddenly filled with concern, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hands. Bakugou tried to turn away, but you didn’t let him. “What’s up, huh? You alright?”

“Fine.”

“No. You’re not. You look tired. Are you sick?”

“No.” He mumbled, his hands falling on your waist as you stood in front of him. “I’m fine. Workin’ a lot or whatever. I’m fuckin’ fine.”

You nod, eyebrows rising in surprise as he suddenly pulls you in. He presses his face into your stomach, arms around your sides as he shuts his eyes. There it is again- that unusual physicality. This strange behavior had stopped for a while recently, but now it seemed to be back in full-force.

“Do you wanna try sleeping again?” You ask after a beat. “I’ve got birthday stuff for you, but we can do always do it later. We’ve got the whole day, right?”

“What- you plannin’ to actually be here or some shit?” He grumbles, with a lot more intentional bite than you’re used to hearing from him. “I’m surprised. Didn’t know an idiot like you still had the fuckin’ brain cells to remember.” 

You’re shocked, rendered completely still and stiff in his hold. Was he- was he mad at you? 

“What?” You try to push away from him, to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t let you. Bakugou’s arms only tighten and you’re left even more confused. “Are you upset with me? Are you tired? What’s wrong?”

“You really fuckin’ piss me off.”

“What?” 

He only growls under his breath, voice raspy and deep. “Whatever. You don’t fuckin’ get it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“No- but I-” You stutter, feeling out of place. Katsuki sounded so frustrated and angry and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “If you’re upset with me we need to talk about it. What happened? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, only knocks your feet out from under you and stands with you in his arms. You’re dumbfounded. He has never, not ever, carried you anywhere. He’s never even made an attempted to lift you! Something was seriously off with him today- and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was. 

Katsuki was mad at you. You knew that, he’d said it himself. But then why was he carrying you down the hall to his bedroom? Why wasn’t he kicking you out?

He kicks open the door, pushing it shut loudly behind him. He looks pissed when you look up at him, his eyebrow’s creased together in an agitated line, but even so, Katsuki sets you down on the bed gently. You’re hardly able to catch your breath when he’s climbing in on the other side, pulling you close and lying practically on top of you.

“What? I- Katsuki?” You asked desperately, brain reeling. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand?”

“I’m fuckin’ tired, woman. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t! Not when you’re upset like this- seriously, what’s wrong?”

“You. You’re what’s fuckin’ wrong!”

“What?”

“God, you’re so fucking dense!” He growls, angry voice vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuckin’ showin’ up in the mornin’ like nothin’s wrong? Been avoiding me for weeks now!” 

“What- no! We literally called last night! What are you talking about?”

“We called for 2 fuckin’ minutes before you fell asleep! And you-” His voice drops suddenly, and then he’s pressing even closer to you, starting up once again. “You piss me the hell off, you know! Sayin’ shit about how you’re gonna do better and then leavin’ for weeks? Not talkin’ to me? What the fuck is that? And then you sneak in here and scare the shit out of me! And you’re running your stupid fucking mouth about the whole day when you’re not even gonna be her-”

Oh. Oh.

He was mad because you’d been busy; because the last time you’d seen him, Bakugou had told he was worried about you, and you blew him off. The last time you’d seen him, you’d promised that you’d take better care of yourself and then you didn’t. All you did was continue working yourself to death, and while you didn’t regret it for even a second, you hadn’t kept him in the loop. You’d barely even managed to call him each night, and even then you’d fall asleep half-way through every conversation.

“Have you been worried this whole time?” You asked quietly.

Bakugou takes a deep, shaky breath, and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck. 

“You were worried.” You whisper. “Weren’t you?”

He nods minutely.

“I-I didn’t realize. I told you- but I didn’t realize. I was so focused on school, so busy, I’m so sorry.” You press a kiss into his hair, your heart sinking when his shoulders tremble. “I missed you too.”

“I didn’t fuckin’- I didn’t-”

“I know. I said it. I’m saying it. I’m sorry, Katsu. I missed you.” You sigh, tightening your arms around him. “Is that why you’re not sleeping well?”

Bakugou is silent but he tenses, going completely rigid under your hands. Your stomach drops.

“It’s-I’m good. Really, this time. Everything’s done. I’m completely finished and everything is gonna go back to normal.” You cradle his face, making him look into your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. We’re good.”

“Are we?”

“What?”

Bakugou shakes your hold, tucking his head until you can’t see his eyes anymore. You can hardly see any of his features, but you see the wobbly line of his mouth. Can feel the shaking of his fingers. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. Barely there.

“Didn’t mean it, last time, when I said your eyebags were ugly. You’re not ugly.”

You blink, hardly able to recall the conversation. Wasn’t that the last time you had visited? Weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it?

Bakugou huffs again, apparently frustrated by your silence.

“So I’m s-sorry. For insulting you. So now you don’t have to disappear again.” 

Your eyes widened.

“You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

You remember how upset he’d been when you’d made the joke- how his shoulder’s dropped and his eyebrows caved and his mouth smoothed out into a thin line. Was that really the last time you’d visited? Did he think you were mad at him this whole time? 

 Guilt flooded you, awful and thick and viscous as it tore through your stomach. You had to make him understand. You just had to.

“No. I- Katsuki. Look at me. Look at me.” You insist until he’s looking at you. His eyes are the dullest you’ve ever seen them- more vulnerable than ever before. “I didn’t- I was just busy, I promise! Not upset. I didn’t mean to ice you out like that. It’s fine! I know you didn’t mean it.”

Katsuki growls, grasping for your hand and hiding his face behind it. “I didn’t- I’m sick of stupid angry shit I say ruinin’ stuff for me. So don’t just fuckin’ say it’s fine if it’s not.” 

“It is. I promise. We’re good.” You soothe, caressing his burning cheeks with your knuckle. “That was a bad joke, okay- I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it was gonna make you worry so much. I promise I was just busy these last few weeks. Nothing you say is ever gonna get rid of me, alright? Not even if you tried! Because I love you and I-”

“You what?” 

You freeze, shifting uncomfortably as your cheeks heated up. This was not how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him like you meant it, not just tacked onto the back of a bunch of other statements. He’d heard though, and no matter what you wanted, you couldn’t run from it.

“You what?” He asks again.

“I-I love you. Katsuki, I love you.”

Bakugou jolts, nearly jumps out of his skin and then he’s digging his face into your neck. He’s hot, his skin nearly burning, and there’s a strangled, clipped noise leaving his mouth. You’re filled with so much adoration in that moment that it nearly chokes you, but it’s freeing too, because you’ve said it. Finally. After waiting your entire life for him, after knowing him for so many months, after loving him for so long, he knew.

“I love you.” You repeated again, giggling breathlessly. “I love you, you dummy.” 

He finally lifts his head, expression so full of awe and disbelief and childlike confusion. It’s just like the first time you’d really kissed him; like he couldn’t figure out why you loved him. It was like those first few days all over again and you couldn’t help it. You loved him so much.

Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium. 

His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving. 

It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending. 

You pull away, panting for breath. He follows, resting on his forearms and dropping his forehead to yours. 

“I-I- I love you. Too. Idiot woman.” 

You laugh under him, cackling loudly as you turn to press a kiss into his forearms. Of course he’d said it like that. It’s tough love or not at all with Bakugou Katsuki- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Stop laughing!” He orders, face screwed up uncomfortably. “You’re always fuckin’ laughing at me! You fuckin’ witch! Stop it! It’s- I’m not- I take it back! I don’t- stop makin’ fun of me, shitty wom-”

“Hey, Katsuki?”

“Oh my fucking god! You laugh at me and then you go thinkin’ your just gonna interrupt me while I’m yellin’ at you? No fuckin’ way! I’m not gonna allow that shit in my own fuckin’ house and I-”

“Katsuki.” 

“Jesus christ! What?”

“I love you.” 

He freezes entirely, collasping his entire weight directly on top of you. He’s so hot it’s like his skin is burning. You wrap your arms around him with a happy giggle, burrowing your own blushing face into his hair. 

“I love you.” You whisper, slow and earnest against the shell of his ear. “I really, really, really love you, angry man.” 

He startles again, jumps in your arms and only seems to run hotter. He groans something strangled and defeated, until he’s sinking into you again, pressing you against the mattress.

“S-s-stop fuckin’ saying it. You’re doing it on fuckin’ purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“You fuckin’ know, you witch woman.”

“No, I really, really, dont.” You say indulgently, laughing as you drop kisses into his hair. “Care to share?”

“No. Fuck no. I’m fuckin’ done sharing. Forever.” 

You rolls your eyes, once again enduring his very familiar dramatics. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Katsuki. I was just happy to hear it- that you love me too.”

“Well, remember it, because I’m never fuckin’ saying it again.”

“Not even if I say it to you?”

“Especially not fucking then.” 

“You’re so difficult sometimes, I swear. You’re really lucky I love you so much.” You say softly, before scratching idly at the back of his head. “Now, c’mon. Get off me. I didn’t forget- you need to go to sleep.” 

“I’m sleeping here.”

“No you’re not, you man-child. You’re gonna crush me.” 

“Good.” 

“No, not good. You wanna celebrate your birthday with a murder charge?”

“Yes.”

“Katsuki.” You laugh, pressing against his chest. “Seriously. Up. You’re supposed to use those muscles to save people not kill them.”

He just groans loudly, flopping backwards gracelessly. Katsuki is pulling the blanket up and shutting his eyes, and you think everything is finally okay. Until he clears his throat. Until keeps clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” You huff, opening your eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“Say it again, idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know what I’m asking you.”

When you look at him, he’s got his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red. You thought he was adorable- just the cutest man in all of Japan. You knew what he was asking, of course you did, and if he hadn’t been so upset earlier you would’ve made him work a lot harder for it. As it stood now though, you just scooted closer to him; shifting until you were right next to his blushing face and sharing the same pillow.

“I love you.” You say, running a gentle thumb over his heated cheek. “Now go to sleep, okay?”

You can see the smile he’s fighting, the way his lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover it. Then he’s pulling you close and digging his head into the pillow.

All is quiet, and finally, finally, he gets some sleep.

—/—

Katsuki, on a good day, was an absolute beast to wake up- on a day off however? The man was damn near impossible to stir. 

You were squatted next to the bed, trying to pull the pillow out from under his head as he held it in his grip. It was absolutely unfair- even at his groggiest your soulmate had the strength of a one man army. It was seriously pissing you off. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the pillow but he’s not budging. Katsuki’s got his eyes shut tight, and he’s dutifully ignoring your every word. “I’m serious! It’s noon! Get up already!”

He finally peaks one eye open, just barely enough to see your irritated expression. Katsuki huffs, rips his pillow away from you completely, and flops on his other side. His back was to you, and normally you’d be thrilled about the free chance to drool over the planes of muscle- but this wasn’t a normal occasion. It was his birthday and you’d already made him breakfast and he was refusing to get up and eat it. 

“Bakugou Katsuki, I swear to god, if you’re not up in two seconds, I’m not gonna kiss you for a fucking week!” 

This does seem to illicit a response from him, because then he’s flipping back over, mouth pulled into a snarl.

“You think I care? You starved me out for fuckin’ weeks already!”

You want to roll your eyes. You thought he was being awfully dramatic and you knew you really shouldn’t stand for it- but he wasn’t technically wrong. However inadvertently, you had been neglecting him, and maybe it was time to treat him instead. Just this once. 

“Oh my god, you silly man, come here.” You relent, climbing onto the bed and hovering over him. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just asked.” 

“I-didn’t! When the fuck did I say that because I-”

You pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. It was a trick you’d learned early on, but damn if it wasn’t still useful. You pulled away right when he started to get handsy.

“No. Bad.” You say, batting his hands away from slipping under your shirt. “I didn’t just waste all that time trying to get you out of bed just to be pulled in. Now, c’mon, you have breakfast to eat and presents to open- it’s your big day, birthday boy.”

“Fuckin’ exactly. Let me do what I want.”

“No, because if I let you do what you wanted you’d sleep all day and only wake  to go blow something up.”

“Sounds like fucking bliss.”

“Alright, well then I guess you’re gonna have to experience nirvana all by yourself because I’m going to eat.” You pat his chest, climbing off the bed and standing straight. 

Bakugou grumbles under his breath, but then the blankets are rustling and he’s rising to follow you out the door. He tears into the breakfast you’d made him, shoveling eggs and bacon and pancakes down his throat at an almost inhuman pace. You would cringe, but you’d seen this scene already many times before. 

“You ready for presents, now?” You ask, putting the dishes in the sink.

“Sure. ‘m not a fuckin’ kid though, you didn’t have t-”

“I wanted to. Seriously. So be quiet and be a little selfish for once. Please.” 

He nods tightly, following you into the living room. He’s settling on the couch, once again rubbing at his eyes when you bring the gifts over. There’s three of them in total and he chooses to open the smallest one first.

“Fuck- this a new watch?”

“Yep.” You nod. “To replace the one you blew up last month.”

“When the- how the hell did you-”

“I have my ways. Now, seriously, promise me you’re gonna be careful with this one.”

“Okay.”

“Katsuki, that’s not a promise.”

“I’m not gonna just fuckin-”

“Say it.”

“No! Why the hell should I have to fuckin’ say shit just because you were spyin’ on me, you freak!”

“Katsuki.” You glare him down. “Promise me.”

“Jesus fuck, woman. Fine. I promise I won’t blast this one to pieces, alright?” He rolls his eyes. “Ya all happy and cheery now?”

“Very.” You smile brightly, moving to grab the second gift and place it in his hands. “Here’s the next one, open it.”

You watched him set the watch aside carefully, before taking the second gift. He might’ve been grumbling, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile trying to stretch across his face. You were glad you made the effort- he deserved every good thing and more.

“This is a jar.” He says flatly, looking down at the unwrapped gift. “What the hell?”

“It’s a swear jar. You know, for practicing how not to offend everyone within a .2 mile radius.” You deapan, taking the excess wrapping paper from him to throw it out. “You gotta work on it, Katsu- news has to censor you so much that your public appearances sound like EDM music.” 

“I’m gonna blow this up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re not.” You laugh. Then you lean towards him, sidling up close and lowering your voice as you run thumb across his jaw. “And, hey, if you figure out how to make it through the week without filling it up, I’ll give you something really, really nice as a reward.”

“Reward?” He’s asks, quickly putting down the jar. You know the look in his eyes, and you’re not surprised when his hands wander to your waist. “’s empty now, right? Think I fuckin’ deserve it. Huh, sunshine?”

“Nope. Sorry, Katsu.” You smile sweetly, dodging as he leans in for a kiss. “It’s saturday- week doesn’t start until tomorrow!” 

He groans, loudly, falling boneless against the couch and tugging you with him.

“You make me want to blow my fuckin’ self up. You know that, you shitty woman?” 

“Aw, thanks. Now, cheer up- you’ve still got one left to open.” You say, patting his grimacing face.

You shake his hold, just barely avoiding when he tries to pull you back as you grab the last present. This box is a little different from the last two, you’d spent extra time trying to make sure it was wrapped nicely and you’d even tied a ribbon around it. You hoped he’d like the gauntlet attachment- you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your disappointment if he didn’t.

“Yeah, so this next one,” You start, placing the box in his hand delicately. “I made it for you myself. Designed it too.”

He pulls the ribbon on the box, tearing away the paper. It’s like time stops for a moment, rolling nerves arresting you and choking your breath. You’re nervous and you feel like shaking and you so desperately want him to like the gift. Want him understand just how much work you’d put in for him and just how easily you’d do it all over again.

“Yeah so it’s an attachment for your grenade gauntlets, right?” You start, right when he’s pulling the device from the box and holding it in his hands. “I was thinking- wouldn’t it be nice if you could quiet your explosions sometimes? You know, for when you’re saving civilians and kids and stuff so they’re not so scared. Basically it works kind of similar to a suppressor on a gun, dispersing and slowing down the blast just a little to muffle the sound, but it’s just a little more high-tech and way more powerful- to match your quirk. Obviously. And it’s adjustable so, if, for whatever reason, you needed to wear it outside of your costume, you can collapse it slip it on like a bracelet and-”

Bakugou is silent. He’s almost frozen as he stares down at the gift, only twisting the gift around in his hands to get a better look. His eyebrows crease, and your stomach drops.

“No- it’s- please don’t get mad! It’s not supposed to offend you or anything! I-I know you don’t need my help to save people, you can do it all on your own, I know that.” You rub your arm anxiously, eyes averted to the floor. “I’m just trying to help- you know, because you always talk about your ratings going up, and I’m sure you could totally do it on your own, I know you could, but I just wanted to help you cause that’s what I do, support, and I can’t help you out on the field and I-”

Pop.

Pop pop pop pop pop

When you finally look up at him, you’re blinded by the smile on his face. It’s bright, and beaming, and brilliant as he fires off explosions. You can see the light dancing on his hands, the force of combustion shooting his arm back, but it’s quiet. It sounds like pop rocks and bacon grease and popcorn instead of cracking thunder and collapsing buildings and then he’s laughing- he’s laughing something full and joyful as he stands, holding his hands up right next to his ears and setting off more explosions.

“You hear this shit?” He yells, that wide smile dazzling you all over again. “Fuckin’ works!”

The nerves disappeared, the tension seeping from your body entirely as he grinned at you. It was worth it. Entirely worth it- you’d give anything, start all over and do it all again from the start just to see that smile. 

“You wanna hear?” He asks suddenly, nearing you with his hands raised. “Listen!”

“No! No- I’m- I’m good, Katsuki.” You laugh, batting his hands away from your head. “I can hear it just fine from here, no need to singe my hair.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know.” You smile up at him, poking his broad chest. “So you like it? Right? Because it’s just a prototype, first draft, you know, so if there’s anything you want to change about it, let me know. Or if you just don’t want it I-”

“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it.”

“Huh?”

“I’m keepin’ it. It’s cool as shit.” He smiles down at you, eyes crinkled at the edges. “Besides, stealth, right? Could blow a fucker up in the next room and you wouldn’t even know it!”

“But I- I made them for you to save people? Like to help them?”

“And they could be used to blow shit up more effectively too. Win fucking win.” Katsuki pulls you in suddenly, arms falling familiarly around your waist. “Good shit, sunshine. Thanks.” 

“Of course.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “That’s what I was doing- when I was gone. Designing it for my project grade and then building it for you. Sorry I got so carried away, I didn’t realize I was gone so long, you know?” 

“You’re still stupid for it, but it’s fine. Fuckin’ get it.” He grumbles. “You’re done now or whatever, right?”

“With school? Yeah I mean, I’ve still got graduation and stuff but otherwise I’m pretty much-

“Move in with me.”

“Huh?”

“God, you always make me fuckin’ say it again!” He flusters, voice loud and raspy. “I said- move in! Here! You’re fuckin’ disappearin’ all the goddamn time to wherever the fuck and I’m sick of it!”

“Y-you want me to move in? 

“That’s what I just fuckin’ said! Idiot!” He thunders, face a violent red when you look up at him. “And I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it again so you either have to say yes or no because I-”

“Yes. Obviously. Of course I’ll move in!” You say, warmth filling your chest as you throw your arms around his neck. “I love you, of course I will!” 

You see the smile he can’t contain- one so dazzling and arresting, as he looks at you. One exactly similar to the brilliant one from earlier. You couldn’t believe that sentiment made you emotional- the thought that you made him just as happy as explosions did, of all things. But it did make you emotional. It really, really, did.

“What’re you- stop cryin’.” He says suddenly, calloused fingers catching your tears. “Why’re you cryin’? I didn’t even say anythin’ rude this time!” 

“No, it’s not that.” You sniffle, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy. I love you, you angry fucking man.”

Katsuki leans in for another kiss, and you don’t dodge it this time. You meet him in the middle and melt into him just as much as he melts into you. You can feel his hand under your chin, the other on your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever been warmer than in that moment.

You’d been waiting your entire life for him. For all of this. You were warm and loved and so very, very happy that it nearly knocked you off your feet. 

Or it would’ve- but when your knees weakened he just held you closer, righting you without missing a beat. You suddenly loved him for that, and for everything else too. You loved him for all that he was and his angry words and his subtle gestures. He was sizzling gunpowder and sharp steel and seared ashes, but he was the softest landing you’d ever known too. There was no hitting the ground with him, and he’d never let you fall alone. 

You’d know Katsuki was forever since the day your tattoo appeared, but it didn’t truly sink in until you’d learned to love him. Until you’d known him. Now you knew him like the back of your hand; you saw his face behind your eyelids, heard his voice in your dreams, and thought about his touch every waking moment. He was your other-half, as scary and loud and intense as he was, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

He pulls away suddenly, and when you glance up at him he’s staring right at you. 

“I love you.”

Your breath catches. You thought you were thrilled to hear the words last night- but it was nothing in comparison to now. Bakugou was finally looking at you, catching your gaze and holding eye-contact and his voice was soft like you’d never heard it before. His tone was bare, no anger or attitude or bite- just him and three little words that took your breath away.

In that moment, Katsuki is the only person in the entire world. There was no one else and no other conclusion, and of course you ended up here. He was the only ending you’d ever surrender to. The only finality that could ever possibly taste so sweet. 

And suddenly, all at once, you loved him all over again. 

//-//

i- sob. plS this was so much fun to write and im gonna miss it sm !! 

once again, thank u to everyone who liked and commented and reblogged any part of this! this is the first ever multi-chapter fanfic i’ve ever written , and i really really was nervous about my characterization and writing and stuff, but you all made me feel so welcome here.�� i appreciate it sm. way more than any of you know.

anyways, thank u once again for reading lovelies and i hope u all stay safe. i love y’all. <333

[roscgcld]

GOJO SATORU || welcome home

request: Can i request a gojo imagine that the reader is feeding his god complex?? gosh gojo and his complex is bothering me?!?!?!🥵🥵😧 and is it alright if u add a little bit of spice?? 🤭 if it's not comfy its really fineee if u wouldnt include d spicy parts,, BTW I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

note: we know that this man as a god complex for sure - and i bet you that this turns him real good lol. just stroke his ego a little and i bet you he will fuck you silly 😇😇 and this entire fic is just spice all over. AND I LOVE YOU! thank you for loving my work TT bean is happy~

pronouns: she/her

note: nsfw work at the undercut, so minors dni. gojo being an ass like usual, but he’s hot that way lol, oral (m receiving), lowkey dacryphilia and dumbification kink because jjk men love to fuck you silly ~, shower sex cause it’s the best sex - jk lol, light humiliation and even a slight size kink, praise kink too, also unprotected sex - but this is for the purpose of fanfiction. use condoms and have safe sex love. lowkey fluffy undertones too! this is long as well - so am feeding y’all good lol

Gojo had always been told that he is the strongest, and he knows that he is. There was no need to remind him on the daily that he triumphs over your every day sorcerer.

Yet he loves it whenever you remind him of his stance in the world.

You knew how to stroke his ego just right when you want something from him - whether it is his time, affection, or even materialistic items; Gojo loves it whenever you’d turn all innocent and cute for him, begging him with puppy eyes for whatever your little heart desires. And you know that Gojo lives to spoil you rotten - anything you want, you get. No questions asked.

For the last few days he had been busy with work, having to wake up way before you are awake and come home long after you’re asleep. The only indication that he had returned home would be the pastries he leaves for you to eat in the morning along with a coffee mug filled with coffee the way you like it. It did make you deflate a little, since you’ve missed spending your time with your white-haired boyfriend. But you know that deep down that there is a lot of people who depend on him, so you understand.

That doesn’t mean you aren’t needy though.

Tonight was no different; you had returned to your shared apartment, taking your shoes off at the genkan before you made your way into your apartment. You had gone about your routine, making yourself a simple dinner to eat as you check your phone, replying to a few messages you had gotten from your boyfriend whilst you were walking home. Soon you migrated into your bedroom, where you had started to take your clothes off one by one as you made your way towards the bathroom; promising to pick them up later. 

You sighed at the feeling of the warm water trailing over your body, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment of silence for a few moments. You had just reached for your shampoo bottle when the door to the bathroom was opened, causing you to drop the bottle you had grabbed to instead cover yourself with wide eyes. 

“I thought I’ve told you how I feel about you covering up from me, princess~”

There, leaning against the doorway with a grin, was Gojo Satoru himself; the man that you’ve been missing for the last few days. You stared at him with wide eyes as he sighs and started to strip as well, taking his sweet time so you can watch his muscles move and flex under his purple Jujutsu High Uniform he wears for work. And it worked - you found it hard to trail your eyes far away from your boyfriend’s fit form, hungrily drinking in every inch of skin that was slowly revealed to you.

The last thing that he removes was the blindfold, giving you a cheeky smile as his white hair fell into his eyes perfectly. “You make me shy, princess...with how closely you’re watching me.” He teases, his words causing you to pause before you pout over at him; not that happy that he was calling you out like this. Wordlessly you huffed before you turned your back to him, bending down to pick up the bottle of shampoo that had fallen to the floor from your scare. “As if you have anything to be shy about.”

Squirting some of your shampoo into your hand, you quietly started to wash your hair once more; pretending like you can’t feel the eyes that were scanning over your wet figure through the shower door. You didn’t need to wait long for Gojo to join you, feeling strong and calloused hands snacking around your wait from behind to pull you flush against him. 

And pulling your ass back so he can grind his length against you. “Awe, is my little princess upset at me?”

Deciding to play his game, you pretended not to feel his hard on whilst you continue to massage the studs into your hair, humming softly at his words. You let his hands roam about your body, not minding how one of his large hands reached up to cup your breast in his hands, nipple caught between his fingers as he gently squeezes the sensitive bud. “Mm...what if I am?”

Your tone was slightly winded yet sultry, your hooded eyes looking up at him with lust shining in them as you gently grinded your ass back against him. “You’ve been away for home for so long...I’ve missed waking up to you every morning.”  You hummed, soft pants leaving your lips when his other hand travelled south, long fingers teasingly rubbing along your puffy cunny. “Nga~...missed you a lot...”

“Is that why my princess is acting so bratty?” He cooed at you with a teasing smirk, his glowing eyes watching you melt against him as he continues to press at your buttons carefully. He loves how with just a few calculated strokes of his fingers along your body he has you melting against him; legs parting to give his hand more access to play with your clit whilst his finger squeezed at your nipple gently. “Did she miss me so much that she starts acting out to get my attention? Is that what you’re doing, princess?”

Wordlessly you nodded, having long forgotten if what you were doing moments before as you reached back to coax his head down to yours. He lets you guide his head down so his lips was pressed against yours, kissing you so deeply and so passionately that it had your already shaky legs to shake even more. He plays your body like an instrument, gently coaxing your lips open too wrap his tongue around yours while his fingers wandered down from your clit to your clenching hole.

However tonight, you were in for a more different sort of loving from him.

You had gently gripped his wrist to stop him, tugging your lips away from his as you panted quietly; strings of thin saliva connecting the both of you as he raises a curious brow. Wordlessly you leaned up to peck his lips, turning around so that your front was pressed against his; hands resting on his pecs. With a mischievous glint in your eyes your hands started to wander down his wet body, fingers tracing along the strong muscles hidden beneath smooth skin. Gently your lips started to kiss down his body slowly, tracing along the faint scars on his pale skin that he had gotten from an incident in his second year.

Gojo immediately caught onto what you were doing, smirking softly as one of his hands reached over to push the wet strands of hair back; giving him a clear view of your innocently blinking eyes as you kissed down his abs slowly. He shifted back into the shower to give you more space to get down on your knees, where your eyes immediately made heart eyes at his length.

Long and thick, you admired the veiny cock as you wrapped a hand around the base, enjoying how heavy it felt against your hand. How small your hands looked as it wrapped around it, fingers barely grazing each other as your eyes glanced upwards innocently. Gojo’s Six Eyes, glowing with both lust and amusement, watched you closely as you leaned forward; pink tongue poking out adorably as you started to trace along each of his veins.

If there is one thing that you know strokes his ego, is when you clearly worship his cock - something that you had discovered a few months into your relationship. There was just something about seeing you on your knees, watching as you lick and suckle along his long girth with such gentleness and love that gives him the biggest ego boost. Watching how you practically worshipped him, putting his pleasure above yours. “Such a good girl...”

You kept your eye contact with him as you flatten your tongue, gently licking from the thick base all the way to the irritated red tip. A soft moan left your lips at the taste of his precum coating your tongue, enjoying the unique taste that is just him as you gently suckle along the top. The hand in your hair tighten as Gojo lets out a groan, gently urging you to take more and more of his cock into the warm cavern of your mouth.

“That’s a good girl...shit...”

Gojo tilted his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your throat tightening around him as you tried to swallow more and more of him into your mouth. Just watching him getting so much pleasure just from you sucking him off send a thrill through your body as you moan softly, only to gag when he hits the back of your throat. The feeling of you gagging over him had his knees buckling as he groans loudly, pushing your head down him to take more of him in. “Fuck princess, you’re always so good to me...wouldn’t you take just a bit more?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you slowly but surely took more and more of him into your mouth, moaning softly at you’ve left less than an inch left. Just the sight of you, all teary eyed with your mouth full of cock has him groaning in pleasure; fingers carding through your hair gently. “Such a good girl...” He cooed whilst you slowly started to pull back, bobbing your head along the rest of him as he watches you with dark eyes.

Your hands gently trailed up from the hold you have on his thighs to gently trail up his body, fingers gently tracing along his body as you slowly pulled your lips off his cock; letting go with an obscene pop. Gojo just watches you with a smirk, lips parted to let out a pants as he watches you gently suckle and lick at his tip teasingly. “Alright princess, up you go.” He grunts before he reaches down to grab you underneath your arms, picking you up with ease before he turns and presses you against the shower wall.

A soft gasp left your lips at the feeling of the cold shower wall pressed against your back, arching your back a little at the feeling of the cold pressed against your warm skin as Gojo caged you against the wall. Gojo grinned at that reaction, since it meant that you had thrust your chest out for him; to which he leans down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Immediately you wrapped your arms around hid neck, fingers gently tugging at the back of his head as he smirks up at you gently.

Biting your lip, you instead started to grind down again him, letting out soft moans and whines at the shiver of pleasure that travels through you. “Such a needy princess...” Gojo coos softly against your chest as he pins you against the wall, finding you absolutely adorable when you just pout softly and look up at him lustfully. Begging for him to stop the teasing act and give into both of your desires. “Did I spoil you too rotten?”

“You love me.” You pouted, fingers gently scratching down his back as he hums and raises an eyebrow at you, as if silently asking where did you get that notion. You huffed before you pulled him closer, your lips pressing soft kisses down his jaw as one of your hands finds it way back into his damp. Fingers carding through the damp strains of white hair as you let out a soft moan against his ear, knowing that it drives him crazy. “Please?”

A loud squeal was tugged from your throat when Gojo suddenly thrust up into you, using gravity to his advantage to impale you on him immediately. The feeling had you shivering in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you snapped your head back from the sudden force. Just as you were about to recover he suddenly pulled out, leaving just the tip inside of you before he snapping his hips upwards once more; slamming right against your cervix.

Without warning you suddenly cum around him, the arousal you felt from giving him head moments before already turning you on so much. Coupled with his rough thrust had the band in your stomach snapping, causing you to shake and squirm in his arms as you tightened around him. “Awe, cumming so soon, princess?” Gojo coos, smirking as he slowly drew his hips away from yours. “Such a poor thing, wound up so tightly. Look - you’re basically sucking me in~”

Before you can throw some backhanded comment at him he thrusted his hips up, causing whatever coherent words to dry up on your tongue as you let out a whine instead. He soon started a steady pace, causing you to whine and cry out at the overstimulation you felt from him not giving you a few moments to gather yourself.

One of your hands started to scratch down his back, the other wrapped around his neck as you let out loud cries and pants into his ear. The sound that you produce egged him on, giving him a huge boost to thrust faster and harder into you. This caused you to whine as your grip tighten on him, starting to feel the licks of pleasure through the pain as your legs wrapped tighter around him; wordlessly egging him on.

His thrusts were relentless, hips moving at such a speed that it had you at a lost of words. You knew that he had high stamina, with how demanding his job can be, but it still absolutely blows you away how much it really is. Just a few precisely aimed thrusts and you feel yourself loosing it once more, whining and crying out to him with your eyes pretty much rolled so far back that he can’t see your irises anymore. Your mouth had fallen open in pleasure, tongue lolling out a little with spit on the corners of your mouth.

Gojo grinned at how beautiful your fucked our expression look, gently squishing your cheeks in one hand to force your swimming eyes to focus on him. “Earth to princess, you there?” He asked in a slightly strained voice, letting a low groan and a curse at the feeling of you tightening around him. You were just filled with him - both figuratively and literally. Whenever Gojo and you get intimate, it makes you realise just how huge he is.

Not only is his dick huge, his entire person is - how he can gather both of your wrists in one hand, how whenever he playfully corners you against a wall, you can’t see over his broad and muscular shoulders, how his hand feels so large and comforting on your back whenever he leads you about beside him. You even marvel how he can pick you up and move you about the way he likes, either if he wants your attention by tossing you over his shoulder and running away with you.

Or like right now, how he bottoms out inside of you with each of his brutal thrusts; knees hooking over his elbows to give him the most space to thrust against into your tight cunt. “Fucking shit - you’re still so tight.” He grunts, his- hips picking up its pace as you cried out, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm slowly start to creep in.

“W-wanna cum! ple-i wanna-” You tried to speak in between his brutal thrusts, whining and crying out his name like a broken record player as your fingers dug themselves into his back. Gojo knew exactly what you wanted, causing him to grunt as he angles his hips carefully. “You wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Do it - shit, come all over my cock, princess. Show me how much you love it.”

His words had you nodding your head dumbly, feeling yourself getting closer and closer with each deep thrust; feeling yourself spiraling out of control. It was with a well time trust and the sudden feeling of his fingers brushing at your puffy clit that pushed you off the edge. Your muscles tensed up as you threw your head back, crying out for him as you felt the shivers of pleasure travel through your body.

Gojo wishes that you can just see how perfect you are, head thrown back with your mouth wide open to let out the most prettiest noises for him as you tighten around him even more. Just knowing that he was the reason as to why you’re feeling so much pleasure has him groaning softly, leaning down to press a deep kiss against your lips as you whine softly against them. “’T-Toru...h-hurts..”

“I know princess...” He grunts softly as he pulls away from your kiss, smiling softly at how cute you looked as you gave him puppy eyes; trying to reach up to pull him closer as you let out soft whines at each of his thrusts. “Think you can - fuck...think you can hold on for a little longer?” He groans softly, sapphire eyes narrowed in pleasure as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his climax.

You just whined and wrapped your arms around his neck tiredly, letting him move your hips for his own pleasure; leaning forward to nuzzle and kiss along his neck. You let soft cries and whines of his name into his ear, the sound clouding his senses and sending his already pleasure-hazed mind into overdrive. With a low groan into your ear before he bottoms out inside of you, an immense feeling of warmth started to fill your belly. 

Letting out a quiet moan, your fingers gently carded through his wet hair once more, slowly started to feel your senses to return to you; reaching up to push the wet stands of hair out of your face with a shaky hand. Gojo chuckles softly at your still clearly blissed our expression as he gently eased himself of you and starts to clean the both of you up; cooing soft words of love and affection when you whine softly at his wandering hands.

Soon the shower was turned off and Gojo dried you both up, putting you in a pair of clean panties and one of his large shirts to go to bed in; his arms wrapped around you to carry you to bed. “God, you’re such a needy baby.” He teases softly with a chuckle, noting how you refuse to let him go even if it’s for a split second so he can grab the edge of the duvet. “How cute.”

You just gave him a lazy smile, pulling the taller male into your arms as you nuzzle your face against his. This action caused him to pause before he smiles at you lovingly, shifting himself closer so his arms was wrapped around you, face tucked away into your neck as he sighs in content. All the fatigue he felt from being away from home and being on call almost 24/7 slowly melts away at feeling of your fingers massaging the back of his head gently.

“Welcome home.” You mumble softly into your ear with a soft kiss to the top of his head, a soft comment that had Gojo smiling wider as he looks up at you with hooded eyes; nose brushing against yours at how close his face was from yours. “It’s good to be back.”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[shanitani]

Hi! May I ask Todoroki accidentally forgetting his S/O's birthday, angst time until his S/O accept his apologies and he decided to spoil them (even tho their S/O does not want him to spend so much money on them... He still don't care lol) thanks! ♥️

contains : shoto x fem reader

includes: angst -> fluff

a: hi babe, ngl this made me get a bit sad bc I feel like he would Lowkey forget ur birthday but not to this extent yk like probably for the first hour of the day- anyways I’m rambling .. here you go <3 

Feeling the crisp morning air hit your face, you smiled before even opening your eyes. Snuggled in what felt like your boyfriend, was in actuality just your throw blanket. You looked around for a sudden moment, stuck in the back of your mind that maybe, just maybe he forgot your birthday. 

‘Maybe he’s just cooking breakfast’ You shook away your thoughts stretching out of bed to smell nothing. To see nothing but a flimsy note on the kitchen counter in scribbled drawn out writing “Had something come up at the agency, be back later - shoto”

You couldn’t say that you weren’t mad or that you didn’t feel a slight pull at your heartstrings, but Shoto was like this - he doesn’t show emotions well with language, more so physical touch. And, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating a pro hero. He let you know before hand how much he had to be gone no matter the instance, and you still stuck with him because he was one of a kind that you couldn’t just let pass up - that’s what made Shoto instantly fall in love with you.

So, you stuck to your promise of unconditional love no matter if he was wrapped in your arms, or messily throwing things in a suitcase to fly out for a emergency mission. You just wished the universe had been a little nice to you today, or at the least gotten an happy birthday at the end of the note.

Despite not being with your boyfriend, Mina had instantly hit you up asking to hang out at the bar later. So instead of sulking, you spent your afternoon with Mina - waiting patiently for your boyfriend to come home.

The afternoon passed, and he still wasn’t home. dropping you a quick message saying, “taking longer than expected, be home later tonight - don’t wait up.” don’t wait up.. was he forreal? or was this just he serious? you thought over and over again taking off the heels you were supposed to wear with Shoto to your birthday dinner.

You wanted to cry, but you didn’t. “Not on your birthday Y/N” you spoke out loud trying to surpass the tears fighting to come out. Instead, jumping in the shower to clear your mind from it all and sitting down on the couch and watch movies to pass the time. 

Hours clicked by, 10pm it stated on the clock. Your birthday was over, and your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, tears fought angrily to come out - and you couldn’t do anything but let them force their way out. You choked out a sob on the couch, feeling hopeless and letting your mind get the best of you.

Was he seeing another woman? did he forget? does he even love me anymore? I wouldn’t blame him... Am I not good enough?

---

“Yeah thanks for helping me with the Mission today, I know it was last minute.” Midoriya nervously smiled rubbing the back of his neck before the bi colored boy shrugged picking up the last of his belongings. “Sorry again, I really do owe you.” the two boys walked out of the agency about to part ways as Todoroki stood confused at why Midoriya felt so sorry this week - this was usual for him to have to leave last minute.

“What for? this is what I signed up for.” Todoroki began to open his car door, shuffling his hair back into place, “Well I tried Bakugo and Kirishima but they had their own mission to fufill, and Denki wasn’t suited right for this job. Didn’t want to call you on your girlfriends birthday y’know? seemed rude.” Todoroki stopped in his tracks, trying to calculate what day it was. He fumbled with his phone trying to see the date, It can’t be today... its not, Midoriya’s just tired.. right? he silently prayed Midoriya was wrong - until he wasn’t.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ve gotta go Midoriya okay?” The boy didn’t wait for response from the green haired boy, rushing home. ‘How can I be so fucking stupid’ he banged on the steering wheel, pushing on the gas pedal harder as he finally got to the shared apartment.

He opened the door, cringing at the bright heels he’s never seen before laying nicely by the door. Shoto rubbed his eyes with his hands - looking at the phone one more time. 11pm. the apartment was pitch black, slightly smelling like food you had previously cooked for you and your husband - that’s when guilt finally started to rush through his body, but he needed to see you - he couldn’t just not say anything.

He walked slowly through the living room door, hesitant on opening it and seeing a furious you. In the back of his mind he hoped you wouldn’t be so mad at him for this happening, but he knew the chances were slim. He opened the door only seeing more pitch black and static on the TV screen, his eyes softened to see you tugged closely onto the couch pillow. 

He inched closer to you finally taking in your looks, you had a black silk dress that slightly rose up from you sleeping, you hair was a mess - frizzy at the top. And he could tell you’ve been crying, seeing your puffed out cheeks and calmer state. He felt terrible, trying to find out how to face you. All you’ve ever done for him was be supportive, and he couldn’t even take a day off from his hectic life to spend time with the person he loves the most. 

Without thinking, he woke you up, inching you awake slowly to see you wake up in discomfort before looking at him. He smiled at you, teary eyed - but you couldn’t quite figure out why until it hit you that it was still the same day. “Hi baby, wake up we’re going somewhere.” “huh” you rubbed your eyes, feeling Shoto tug your arm up and into his arms

He leaned to your ear, whispering a small ‘i’m sorry, let me make it up to you.’ and before you could answer he opened the door, motioning you to come outside. You complied; seeing his emotional face look at you made your heart melt. He pulled you into the car, putting his hand on your thigh and starting the car. putting the radio on for background music there was a comfortable silence in the air. 

You finally pulled into a driveway, the highest level that looked over the Japan city that you liked so much. He pulled you out urging you to come to the edge and breathe. He knew that after small breakdowns you would usually come out here to get your mind off things, so he thought this was the perfect place to bring you - at least just for tonight.

His head hung low trying to figure out the words to say to you, he didn’t know how to apologize, and he wouldn’t be surprised nor mad if you wouldn’t accept it. “I’m sorry. I’m a bad boyfriend.” he croaked out, with damp cheeks attempting to look into your eyes, he grabbed your hands subcontiously to stop his rapid heartbeat. You smiled at him, taking his head and putting it into your chest like he always liked. 

“It’s alright baby, you’re an amazing boyfriend. always will be my hero.” you hummed stroking his hair softly. you didn’t care about the date or the gifts, you cared about his presence, and it was before 12am. So technically, you got what you’ve wanted.

“It’s not, and i’ll try harder to be with you more.” he looked into your eyes finally, cupping your cheek. You smiled, “best birthday ever.” you smiled, kissing his lips that you’ve longed for all day. He was scared to at first, but soon drowned into your mouth - comfortable with your taste. You pulled back, fully relaxed and content, “baby?” he hummed in response. “You still didn’t say happy birthday to me.” you teased grinning as he playfully pushed you away from him only to bring you back into his chest closer, “happy birthday sweetheart.”

BONUS BECAUSE I NEED TO:

You awoken to the smell of pancakes and bacon, the sun shining warmly on your face making you sit up. You were awoken to food, presents, and a beautiful card placed on the left of your bed. Standing over you was your boyfriend, with messy hair and sweatpants that sat nicely in the middle of his V line making your cheeks heat - he never failed to look so adorable. 

“Good morning beautiful” he kissed your cheek, sitting on the edge of the bed near you, “Close your eyes.” you complied, feeling a small thin cold object grave over your neck, “Open.” you opened your eyes to see his phone handed to you to look at the object, it was a small gold necklace engraved to say “Todoroki” you smiled finding his eyes at yours, leaning in to kiss the boy.

“You’re already gonna have my last name, so for now this will do until I put a ring on that finger.” your cheeks grew incredibly hotter, “Thank you so much baby, it’s adorable.” you grinned placing down his phone and suffocating him once more in an endless amount of kisses to his face.

masterlist

[earlgreydream]

florist.

| Zemo x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. Zemo is a mob boss and the reader is a cute little florist who is always happy and all and she is a virgin but Zemo is really experienced. The reader wants to try it, and Zemo asks her is she’s sure and then she wiggles a lot and Zemo asks is he can tie her up because we ✨kinky✨ and she agrees and then after they try it the reader loves it and then Zemo sings her bah bah black sheep as a lullaby after wards as he holds her in his arms

The sweet aroma of roses welcomed the dark mob boss with the bloody hands. It surrounded Zemo, delicate and familiar, much like you. The bell chimed as he pushed open the door to your shop, leather boots tapping on swept tile floors.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” You called, bent down behind the counter, looking for white ribbon to tie bouquets.

“No rush, darling,” Zemo spoke evenly.

At the sound of your boyfriend’s Sokovian accent, you stood up. His heart softened when you beamed at him, a bright smile crossing your face. He loved your cheerful demeanor and your sweet personality. You brought the scary criminal so much joy, balancing the darkness with your light.

“Hi,” you breathed, walking around to greet him properly.

“Hello my beautiful darling,” he kissed you deeply, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“What brings you here? I thought you had big important meetings?” You asked, sliding your hands into his blond hair and dragging him back to your lips before he could answer.

“I just wanted to see my girl,” Zemo murmured into your neck, adding to the fading love bites that were already there.

“I’m your girl,” you giggled happily, squealing as he lifted you to sit on the counter.

He squeezed your thighs, his hands resting just below the hem of your sundress. You pressed little kisses to his lips, delighted by him visiting you in your flower shop.

“I was hoping I could come over tonight?” You asked shyly, your fingers toying with the blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed thoughtfully against his forehead, thinking through the plans for the rest of the day. He supposed that he could send someone else to the deals, already shifting his schedule around in his head. Zemo loved to indulge your every whim and desire, even if it were as simple as being together.

“I’ll be there,” he kissed you, feeling you smile into it. It made his heart swell as he melted at your innocence. Your hands smoothed down over his blazer, feeling his well formed muscles under the fabric.

“I’ll take you home today.”

You smiled, enjoying being carted around in one of Zemo’s many fancy cars. Your scary, dangerous boyfriend was a stark contrast to you, the innocent, sweet florist. He loved to spoil you and treat you like his princess, and he was soft for you. You adored him, and even though he could be intimidating at times, he was always sweet to you.

“I have some people coming in to pick up bouquets. I’ll see you later?” You inquired, and he pecked your lips.

“Later,” Zemo’s voice was low.

You watched him go, returning to your work and finishing up bouquets for happy couples to pick up.

“Thank you!” You called after the last people left.

You flipped the sign on your door to ‘closed’ and started to put away everything that was left out. The sound of a sports car rolling up outside caught your attention, and you grabbed your bag.

You were so excited to be with Zemo that you struggled to lock the finicky door, laughing at yourself.

“Hi, my love,” you smiled, stepping into the car with white leather seats. Zemo took your bag and set it in the backseat, his hand going to rest on your thigh.

You were practically anxious with excitement. Zemo had been caught up in copious amounts of work recently, leaving little time for your relationship. You were far more innocent compared to him, and the two of you had been taking things slower. Now though, with him gone frequently, you wanted more intimacy when he was around.

Zemo carried your bag inside for you, his free hand tightly holding yours. You were pushing your boyfriend up against the wall as soon as he was out of his coat and shoes.

“Y/N?”

“I can’t wait any longer Zemo. I need you,” you informed him, your pupils dilating with lust.

“You have me,” he responded calmly, wanting to hear you say it.

“No, I want you inside me. I want to have sex, I want you to take my virginity!”

The corners of his lips turned up into a smile, but he was hesitant to just give in. You’d gone quite a long time preserving your innocence, and Zemo didn’t think you’d be best off losing it to him.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, entirely serious. He never once pressured you, and he didn’t want you to feel as though you had to give him your body.

“I am.”

You looked him in the eyes with utter certainty. His hand went to your waist, pulling you into a needy, passionate kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and his hand traveled downward, gripping your ass through the thin fabric of a sundress.

Zemo swept you off your feet, carrying you to your bedroom. He couldn’t hold out anymore, you just looked so divine with your dazzling smile and tiny dress.

“I will do my best to be gentle, darling,” Zemo promised as he crawled over your now-nude body. Kisses had been pressed to every inch of your body, Zemo drawing out the foreplay to try to help you relax as much as possible.

“Please, I need you!” You writhed before he’d even touched your core.

He watched you squirm, even as he gently held you still. Zemo dipped down and kissed your collarbone, making you claw at his back.

“My sweet darling, you simply can’t hold still. Do I need to tie your hands up?” Zemo asked, teasingly nipping at your skin.

He was surprised when you nodded, willing to try it. You wanted your dominant boyfriend to exert his power over you, leading you and showing you pleasure.

He retrieved a silk tie, binding your hands to the intricate bedpost.

“Say the word and I’ll free you, darling.”

“Yes, Zemo. Just please fuck me, I want you so bad,” you begged, lightly tugging at the ties on your wrists.

He knelt between your legs, brushing the tip against your soaked folds. You shuddered when he tapped your swollen clit, a choked moan leaving your lips. You were practically throbbing with need, salivating from the sight of your well-endowed boyfriend.

He held your hips and carefully eased into you, studying your face. You gripped the silk that restrained you, startled by how painful it was. You expected it to hurt a bit, but not near as much as it was.

“Zemo!” You gasped with watery eyes.

“I know, darling. I’m so sorry, just try to relax. It’ll feel better in just a moment,” he promised apologetically, his heart aching at the threat of your tears.

Sweet kisses were pressed to your lips, and you were thankful for the security of the ties. Zemo’s fingers danced and stroked your clit, trying to get your body to ease up.

“Want me to untie you?”

“No, no, please, just move—” you gasped, arching your back as he rolled his hips forward.

He built up a steady pace as he fucked you, stretching your tight pussy and drawing pleasure from you. You were better than anyone in the past, taking him and begging for more as he pushed his cock inside of you.

“That’s it, darling, cry out for me,” he groaned, further aroused by the sound of you shouting his name.

“Zemo! Please, faster!”

He obliged you, increasing his pace. He felt himself twitch, getting close to the edge. He was mindful that this was your first time, and he focused on making you come first.

The blonde leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, licking over the hyper-sensitive peak and nipping gently. Mewls escaped your lips and your body trembled at the combination of that, with the tight circles being traced on your swollen clit. Your walls caught on the veins of him, his tip brushing against every invisible, sensitive area inside of you.

You threw your head back and screamed as your body ignited with warmth, pleasure spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands yanked at the silk that kept you from touching him as you grappled for something to ground you.

The sight of your rapture had Zemo spilling into you, coming with a force that made your body shudder around him. Sokovian profanities echoed in your innocent ears, your chest rising and falling under his heady gaze.

“Zemo, I need to touch you,” you breathed, and your hands were freed.

You dragged your fingers through his damp hair, pulling the baron down to you. Your lips were captured in a heavy kiss, arms wrapping around your wrecked body.

After a bit of cleanup and adjustment, you settled into his lap, clad in one of his warm sweaters. Be gently rocked you, singing softly in Sokovian, bringing you down from the aftershocks of the intense sex.

[hyunjilicious]

onlyfans #1 [ransom drysdale]

A/n: I’ve had this idea for a LONG time, and yesterday it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so I’m trying again today! This is part of a future pseudo-series, because I adore this concept. Also, prepare for cameos!!

Summary: So Ransom lost his inheritance. I hope the title doesn’t spoil his plan to make a living (SMUT) 3.4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, domestic submission, name calling, degradation, dub con (just in case), slight spit play, breath play, taking/selling nudes (lowkey non con here lol) Ransom is a bit of an ass. 

absolutely DO NOT READ if any of the warnings mentioned above make you uncomfortable, or if you are under 18!! That being said, enjoy!!!

"Ransom!" you yelled, rummaging through the shopping bag he just left on the counter in the kitchen. "We can't afford-" you scoffed, turning a bottle of wine over in your hands. Feeling yourself fume with anger that was threatening to burst out of you at any time, you placed it back on the counter, and started looking for him around the house, "Ransom, where the fuck are you?"

"Will you stop yelling!?" you heard him groan through the wall.

Rolling your eyes and with genuine rage surging through you, you slammed the door open, so hard it hit the wall behind it. "The fuck is wrong with you? You know we're already fucking tight with money, yet you had to go and buy a $200 bottle of wine!?"

Only after the words left your mouth, did you realize what he was doing. When your eyes landed on his computer screen and you saw him playing Spider Solitaire, you felt like you were actually going to fucking hit him.

"It was the cheapest I could find" he joked, without even bothering to turn around and face you.

"I'm serious right now" you sighed, walking over and snatching his hand from the mouse, "Look at me"

And he did. He turned to look at you, with a roll of his eyes and a displeased grin on his lips, "We're doing fine, you have a good job, what the fuck do you want from me?"

"Only the president could fucking keep up with you, Ransom, I can't afford that kind of crap. If you keep that shit up, we'll both end up on the streets!"

"Don't be so dramatic, doll" he chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down your outer thigh. Grabbing a handful of your ass, he pulled you closer, "Stop worrying, we'll figure something out"

"We'd better. Because soon-"

"We will" he stopped you, grabbing even harder. His fingers sunk into your flesh, and your whole attitude changed in an instant, as you went mellow under his touch.

"Ok, then" you sighed, determined to find another way to go about this.

"Kiss me" Ransom smiled, and you obliged in an instant. He went in open mouthed, his tongue finding yours in an instant. You gave in completely, submitting to him like you always do. The way he bit into your lower lip, a tad harder than you would have considered pleasurable, made you moan softly against his lips.

"You adore me, I know" he smiled, pulling away from you. Ransom nodded towards the door, "Now go make us something to eat" he said, and then turned back to his computer, "I was busy with something"

"Busy" you mocked him, walking out of the room.

The next few hours of the day went by as usual. Ransom was hard around the edges, a difficult man to please - and god knows you had to constantly please him in order for him to accept you. But you got the hang of it, it became your routine, and you didn't mind it one bit. After having lunch, he went out to meet with a friend, while you stayed inside, making yourself busy.

When you two started getting more comfortable with one another, every now and then Ransom would insist on choosing what you wore while you were home alone with him. You loved this kink of his - he was doing it to himself, having you dress up all hot and skimpy only to have his dick get hard about 20 minutes later - it was a win-win situation. So now, still in one of the outfits he had chosen for you, and with your makeup perfectly done, you sat on the living room couch, finishing up your nails. A show about some mysterious crime that took place over 20 years ago was playing in the background, when Ransom entered the room.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" he beamed, walking over to you, blocking your view of the TV.

"She's fine" you smiled, actually surprised with how cheery he was being.

"You love me, right?"

"Of course, baby" you giggled, "So much"

"Good" Ransom said, his smile fading. "Put this on-" he added, throwing a small red paper bag into your lap, "And then come into the bedroom"

"Are you only ever nice to me when you want something?" you sighed, watching him as he walked out of the room.

"Don't be ridiculous" he laughed, "If I had to be nice every time I wanted something from you, I'd combust"

For a second, you remained dumbfounded. 'He's an asshole, but he's your asshole and you love him' you told yourself, before gathering the courage to open the bag and peak inside. Black lace. Your mouth fell open as you pulled the lingerie out - there was so little material you barely even realized how it was supposed to go. And those little patches of material? Almost completely transparent. You felt a little bit of anxiety curse though your body, but put on in nonetheless. Feeling entirely naked, you put the robe back on over the lingerie, and headed to the bedroom.

In an instant, you spotted Ransom sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone. Once he noticed you, he pointed to the bed.

"Take that off and lay down"

Halfheartedly, you listened to him, and then padded over to the bed, wondering what you did wrong. You sat down and leaned back, watching him march up to you.

"Not like this" he said, effortlessly spinning you around to lay on your stomach. "Ass up"

Swallowing thickly, you arched your back and perched your ass up. "What's going on?" you questioned, already getting wet under his hungry stare.

"Shut up, baby" he whispered, groping your thighs and hips. "Stay like this, ok?"

You weren't going to object, but when you felt him distance himself from the bed and walk across the room, your curiosity got the best of you, "Why?"

"Told you something, pet" he threatened, "Keep that sweet little mouth of yours shut. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yeah, ok" you whined.

The anticipation was killing you. The tension between your legs was getting more and more difficult to ignore, and rubbing your thighs together proved futile. A powerful wave of eagerness washed over you when you heard Ransom walk over. You didn't even get to wonder what he was doing, before he slapped your ass hard. You gasped in surprise, but you didn't get a chance to react before he went again. Slap after slap, each growing in intensity against your sensitive skin.

The only thing that interrupted your whines were a few soft moans, as you kicked your legs and squirmed under him, "Fuck-"

"Does it hurt?" Ransom asked, spanking your ass one more time.

"Yes" you cried.

"Good, baby" he hummed, rubbing your inflamed skin. He wasn't as gentle as you wished, his touch burning all the way down to your bones. 

You tried to wiggle away, but he was quick to stop you, "Daddy's not finished with you yet. It has to hurt, ok? You need to be Daddy's good little slut and take it"

"I am" you nodded.

"What are you?" he asked, his smile audible in his tone.

"Daddy's good little slut" you repeated, your own words making the pain between your legs skyrocket.

"That's right, pet. That's why you're gonna take all that Daddy has to give you, even if it hurts, yeah? Daddy always knows better than you" Ransom said. 

You nodded again, bracing yourself for the impact. But it didn't come. Instead you felt him play with your ass, working strong, marron bruises into your skin. As you started to relax and get used to the feeling, he grabbed your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You love this, don't you, doll?"

"I do" you squealed, fisting the cotton bed sheets into your palms.

"Such a wet cunt for me" he said, tracing your opening with his pointer finger, "Practically begging for my cock, always fucking ready to be ruined"

You whined, the pressure he was applying only managing to drive you even crazier. "Please-"

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me"

"No, baby" Ransom chuckled, rubbing his hand over the curve of your ass, "Not tonight"

"But Daddy-" you began to protest, but your words were cut short by another spank, this one hitting differently.

With your skin already on fire, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to tears with every slap delivered. Unconsciously, you started to pull away from him, but that didn't stop him in any way. Ransom kept going until he felt you'd had enough, only then stopping. "Good girl" he spoke, leaning down to kiss the skin he had just abused, "You take it so well, baby. You're a gem"

"Thank you, daddy" you moaned, shuffling around the bed. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but he stopped you again.

"On your knees, baby, c'mon" he commanded, pointing to the fluffy red carpet next to the bed. "Daddy deserves to have his cock sucked, doll, so get to it"

Without even thinking twice, you jumped off the bed and sunk to your knees, hands on his thighs as you looked up at him.

"Always so hungry for my cock" he shook his head, lacing his fingers through your hair, "I'm gonna record you, angel, but don't freak out. Just suck my dick like you do everyday, yeah?"

"Ok"

"And take that bra off, I wanna see your tits"

You obliged in an instant, heart beating out of your chest. When he pulled out his phone and pointed the camera down at your face, you gulped, but then nodded eagerly, big doe eyes trained up at him. Ransom didn't wait any longer before he shuffled out of his jeans, his massive, already hard cock springing out.

Although slightly anxious about having a phone pointed at you, you fought to not let it bother you. Rubbing your hands up and down his length a few times, you looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Open that whore mouth for me, yeah?" Ransom commanded.

As soon as you followed his order, he bent down, spitting on your tongue. With your eyes locked onto the camera, you swallowed and then opened your mouth again.

"Want more, huh?" he laughed, playing with your hair.

"Yes, please!"

"How about you throat my cock first, and then we'll see if you deserve it?"

Without even giving him any kind of approval, you went in, bringing the tip of his cock into your mouth. You sucked wholeheartedly, hollowing your cheeks around his massive member. Bopping your head up and down, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his tip against your tongue. When you felt yourself prepared enough, you pushed yourself further along his cock, allowing it to brush past the back of your throat. Your gag reflex instantly kicked in, but you fought it, remaining in place. 

"That's right, angel-" Ransom grunted, gripping the roots at the top of your head into his hand.

Feeling your oxygen supply run low, you wanted to pull away, but he wasn't having it. He easily controlled your movements, pushing his cock even further down your throat.

"Angel-" he panted, as you struggled against his hold, "You were made to be face fucked"

You had your arms wrapped around his strong thighs, your manicured nails sinking into his skin, hoping you'd get his attention. It didn't work.

By the time he let you go, you had tears running down your cheeks, your mascara almost reaching your chin. You fell backwards, desperate for a breath of air.

"You look better with your makeup like this, love" Ransome laughed, wiping your tears with the back of his fingers, "Suits you"

After regaining your composure, you pushed yourself back up, getting ready to resume your work. However, Ransom had other ideas as he grabbed his member, slowly pumping it in his own hand.

"Tongue out, slut" he said.

You listened to him, and felt a rush of ecstasy course through you when he slapped his cock against your tongue and then your cheeks. His tip was already leaking precum, and you swallowed obediently every drop that landed inside your mouth.

"You want it back?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes"

"Balls first, baby"

Bracing yourself against his thighs, you leaned forward, connecting your lips to the soft skin of his balls. You sucked deeply, applying the kind of pressure you knew would drive him crazy. "Fuck, fuck, yes, come on-" he grunted, bucking his hips into you.

You were nowhere near done when he grabbed your hair again and manhandled you to take his cock down your throat. Your frame fell limply under his hold, as you forced yourself to relax and obey him for as long as you could.

"That’s right-" he moaned, "don't fight it. You know that's my favorite thing about you? The way you worship my dick, you fucking slut"

As he spoke, he forced you deeper down his cock. No matter how hard you tried to resist, you couldn't help but start to squirm around, trying to push him away.

"Don't be a fucking bitch, Y/n" Ransom huffed, keeping you in place, as your throat muscles constricted around his tip, "Just fucking take it"

With a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face, you slapped his thighs frantically, until he finally allowed you to breathe again.

"I'm so fucking close, baby" he grinned, as you panted your lungs away. "Look up at me, I wanna see those that dumb look in your eyes whenever you take my cock"

Mouth agape as you still worked on regulating your breathing, you looked up, right into the camera. "That's it! Yeah, that's my slut, I can see it in your eyes, baby"

If it were up to you, you would have waited more. But Ransom was having none of that. Instead, he grabbed your hair again, this time controlling your movements completely. He forced your mouth along his cock, bopping your head up and down until his hips started shaking and he couldn't take it anymore. Proud with yourself for getting through this without panicking, you leaned back and opened your mouth.

Ransom's grunts and pleasure filled moans filled the room, as his cum started shooting out of his cock. Little droplets ended up inside your mouth and on your lips, and maybe intentionally or by mistake, he shot a few pumps on your cheeks and in your hair. But you remained there, motionless, waiting for his next move.

With the phone still pointed at you, Random used his thumb to gather all the cum you had missed, before shoving his finger into your mouth.

"Always eager to suck on something, aren't you?"

You proudly nodded.

After that he threw his phone on the bed, and helped you up. He instantly went in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around your body to play with your ass while his tongue dominated yours. He owned you completely.

"Go run a bath, baby" Ransom said, slapping your ass, "I'll be right there"

"But.." you hesitated, "What about me?"

"What about you?" he asked, cluelessly.

"I didn't finish…"

"It's early, love" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "Let's take a bath now, and then daddy will take really good care of you, yeah?"

And he did. He kept his word. You jumped in the bathtub about 5 minutes later, settling between his legs. He held you in his arms, kissing all along the curve of your neck, playing with your breasts as he kept telling you about his plan to take over his grandfather's company.

Eventually, with you being your needy self, he had you straddle his hips, as he sunk his cock into your pussy. You went limp against his chest, your pussy every now and then clenching around him as he tickled your sides and played with your ass. When the water started to get cold, all it took for you to finish were a few simple rolls of your hips, Ransom following closely behind, much to your surprise. 

That night, he didn't ask you to cook anything for him, instead just ordering and sharing a pizza. As you waited for it to be delivered, Ransom ate your pussy into oblivion on the kitchen table, joking about how your cunt was the most delicious thing to ever touch that surface.

The following days went by similarly. He was always down to get dirty, but the one thing that was different now was his constant need to film you. With time you got perfectly comfortable with it, putting on a show for him with every chance you got. It was just a matter of time until you barely even noticed it.

One day, as you ran your usual errands, when you stopped by the bank, something caught your eye. You instantly requested the balance, and you almost dropped the piece of paper when you read the numbers. You paid the cashier a polite goodbye, and stormed out of the bank, your phone glued to your ear.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!!" 

But he didn't.

You rushed home, palms sweaty against the steering wheel. God, you hoped it wasn't what it seemed. What troubled you the most, was that you weren’t even 100% mad. There was some other kind of emotion there, but you pushed it aside. As soon as you reached your house, you stormed inside, bursting into Ransom's office without bothering to knock first. 

And this time, you caught it. For a split second, you managed to see the video open on his computer, before he switched the tab back to Spider Solitaire. 

"You fucking asshole!" you yelled, slamming the piece of paper against his chest, "You sick fuck! You thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Come on, baby" Ransom chuckled, way too relaxed for how enraged you were. He spun his chair around to face you, extending his hand to grab yours, "Relax, I only-"

"You only what?" you interrupted him, "Sold my nudes? Are you insane?"

"Don't talk to me like that-" he threatened, leaning his head to the side, "You know I don't appreciate it"

"And I don't apreciate you posting my sex tapes on the Internet!"

He grinned, "That’s not the same thing"

"Yeah!" you scoffed, throwing your arms into the air, "What you did is so much worse!"

"Careful there, baby" he shook his head.

You wanted to protest again, but he stood up. Ransom took a menacing step towards you, towering over your small frame, the fire in your attitude instantly dying down.

"You don't get to talk to me like that-" he whispered, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "But I'll let it slide this time, doll, because that's exactly why I didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to see you panick a bit"

"Ransom…" you whined, "You should've asked"

He shook his head no, "You know I never ask, I just take. You should've considered this when you decided to be mine"

"I would have been into it, but I still wished you had told me" you said softly, too shy now to even look into his eyes.

"We talked about this, you're mine, I make the calls, not you"

"I know, Ransom, but-" you whined, but he grabbed your cheeks between his hands and stopped you.

"But what?"

You blinked a few times, "But nothing, I'm sorry I yelled, you're right"

"Of course I am" he chuckled, kissing your forehead, "See what happens when you worry, baby? Just be a good little girl and do what you're told without whining and bitching around, and everyone will be happy. We don't have to fight if you listen to me"

"I love you" you pouted, pressing yourself against his chest.

"Love you too, pet" he responded, slapping your ass a few times. 

As things finally calmed down, you decided to go change and then return to Ransom's office so he could show you how the page was doing. Just when you were about to walk out the door, he called after you. "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Love, some of the ideas I've gotten over the past few days where actually requests from our subscribers. Today will be fine, nothing new, but tomorrow we have a threesome. Some dude, Lee Bodecker, handsome guy, make yourself pretty, you'll love him!"

[weasleypogues]

fight club (p.h.)

request: hii can i request smth angsty with pope ? maybe it could end well for both the reader and him but overall it’s just filled with angst and slow burn and tension ? ty xx

ofc lovieee!!! loving this pope recognition finally!! :)

this will be a two part becuause this was longer than i expected!!! part 2 here!!!

masterlist.

you literally felt like you could not sit still. anger was pulsating through your veins as you paced back and forth on the porch of the chateau. you also felt the piercing eyes of pope follow you back and forth as you struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

“it’s just- ugh! she can’t get away with this! she thinks because she’s a kook that i’ll be begging for her forigveness and shit like i’m a starving peasant just to save my reputation! i’m a fucking pogue, i don’t have a reputation to uphold!” you spat as your hands clenched together so hard you swear you were going to accidentally draw blood from your palms.

vanessa was a kook that you never had problems with when you were kids because you two had a friendship that was secretive and playful because of opposing groups. it wasn’t until middle school was when she ditched you, similar to kie and sarah’s relationship. thankfully for them, they sorted it out. however, vanessa was bitter and bitchy every chance she could get. 

“yes (y/n)! keep it fiesty! i wanna see you win a good cat fight.” jj egged you on.

“you’re gonna make yourself go crazy if you don’t just sit down.” pope spoke in a sterner tone than you would have expected. but as the rage filled you from vanessa, pope’s tone was not helping. you felt a tinge of hurt in your chest as he expressed his clear stress and annoyance with you. but you weren’t going to let it go that easily; not in this state.

“i’m fine just the way i am, thanks.” you responded just as passive-aggressively as he did. you literally had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes so you wouldn’t egg this on, because the last thing you needed was for pope of all people to be on your bad side. 

you heard him scoff from behind you and his footsteps faded away. you spun around so quickly, maybe even too quickly to play it cool, to just see a flash of him as he turned the corner. your eyes flashed to john b, kie, and jj who had expressions that were just as shocked as your own.

“what’s his problem?” you asked, expecting an answer real quick before you had to go investigate it yourself. your teeth grinded against each other and you felt your face and ears go hot. 

“he probably just doesn’t think this is worth it (y/n/n).” kiara stated, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and giving you a look that said don’t let it get to you. kiara shared a quick glance with john b and jj, which definitely did not go unnoticed by you.

“w-what was that? that little look you three shared?” you asked pointing your finger at them interchangeably and confused but angrily eager to find out. you raised your eyebrows, expecting another speedy answer as you finally turned towards jj who held his hands up in defense and bit his tongue. 

“cut pope some slack. you’ve been looking for trouble lately (y/n), it’s been keeping him on edge each time.” john b responded and slapped his hands on this thighs before getting up off the couch. you felt your cheeks get a little hot and your jaw drop slightly.

pope was trying to be protective of you. this was not a secret that you and pope were always flirty with each other but neither of you ever acted on it. both keeping the same sad mindset, if they wanted to, they would. everytime you talked about this with kiara and sarah at a girls’ night, they playfully judged you for thinking like that and tried to encourage you to just go for it. 

you took a deep inhale and relaxed your shoulders and face, feeling the tension ease up on your body. “she’s asking for it...look i don’t want to make pope upset or anything but vanessa can’t keep pulling this shit. she’s asking for her teeth to get knocked in.” you huffed out as you grabbed your backpack and phone to hop on your bike and head home. 

--

your grabbed your phone and backpack as you headed back outside to your bike. you didn’t even bother to text the rest of the group about catching a ride to tonights kegger because you were just a little fired up from earlier. they were your friends and if this were any other case, they would be backing you up. why is this time any different?

you’re recalling yourself getting ready. stud earrings because she can grab hold of hoops. your hair in two braids because there was less surface area for her to snatch onto. sneakers to make a run for it in case shit gets bad. 

what the rest of them don’t understand is that not only was vanessa mean, spoiled, and made your existence on the obx difficult, was that you had a bumpy past with her. more than just losing a friend. she made up a rumor based on fake ideas that she overheard her parents talking about. when she would run into you on the street with her other kook friends at the ripe age of 13, she would be a bystander as they spat insults your way. that always caused a strain in your friendship. 

until one day, she started the picking on first. she judged you on your family’s financial situation and said quote-by-quote “i heard her mom cheats on her dad with all of her little pogue friend’s dads. who knows, they could actually be related and we wouldn’t know. she’s a whore and i’m sure she’ll end up just like her.” tears still brim your eyes at that memory. you wouldn’t dare tell the rest of the pogues, whether it was out of embarassment or fear. it was best for them and their own minds that it was never brought up again. since then, it seems like constant torture from her. 

you pulled up on the beach and hopped off your bike as your tires were definitely not made for the sand. you laid it on a tree and made a b-line to the keg that john b was basically guarding. “thought we’d hear from you.” you heard kiara state as she sat on the sand and glanced up at you, squinting her eyes to keep the remaining sun from basically burning them.

“yeah well, just got a lot on my mind.” you responded. you didn’t want to be so abrupt with them but your blood was basically boiling with the idea of vanessa. john b stared between you and kiara and handed you a full red solo cup which you gladly took, taking a gulp.

“soooo...” jj started, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “cat fight tonight?” you felt a chuckle rise out of you as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“if you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll get front row.” you joked, sending a smirk jj’s way and taking another gulp. you felt a presence behind you and turned to be faced with pope. his facial expression had clearly changed from what you saw from him last time. he looked almost guilty and concerned rather than aggravated. 

“come to snap at me again?” you said, turning towards the horizon on the water. looking into his eyes right now was difficult. maybe because it was the idea that you knew some part of you wanted to snap at him for him snapping at you earlier but you couldn’t make another enemy. not tonight. 

“about that...can i actually talk to you for a minute?” pope muttered, instincitvely cracking his knuckles, clearly scared to tread on water. you felt your shoulders relax and your facial muscles follow suit. placing your drink and backpack on the ground you followed a few paces behind him, closer to the sand where the tide was rolling in. although he didn’t stop, he wanted this to be a walk and talk situation. 

you strolled beside him, both of your hands slightly brushing against each other every now and then. while neither of you took initiative to grab the others’ hand, neither of you pulled your hands out of that pathway either. that connection and touch felt nice. it was reassuring that his snappiness, along with your own, was out of love and protection of each other. 

“you won’t be happy with what i’m about to say...” pope started, basically holding his breath.

“so why say it, pope? i know it sounds bad to say outloud but, why not just let me fight her? she has made my existence so unbearably difficult on this island and has slandered my name and countless others of those i love too much and for too long. i’m sick of being a pushover and letting her get away with it because of mommy and daddy’s money. im done!” you blurted out, letting more info out than you expected. “why does it bother you so much? if this was topper and john b going at it, or rafe and jj? which keep in mind, both have actually happened, i’m sure you would be more hesitant to stop them.”

your strolling came to a sudden halt as pope took a step directly in front of you, face to face. he looked longingly into your eyes, somewhat darting back and forth between your own eyes to search for an answer to his questions or even an answer to yours. 

“(y/n)! i can’t see you get hurt. i know how badly you want to do this and how much it means to you but in the end, what is it going to get you? an even worse reputation among kooks, bloody nose, and a black eye? is it worth it?” pope rambled drasticaly. 

“it is worth it! and i’m so thankful that you care about me and my well being and everything in between but this is something that i have to do. once and for all. i’m not putting myself and everyone i love through this torture anymore. and if that means beating the shit out of her and getting a bloody lip and battered up on the way, than so be it!” you responded, using your hands quite animatedly throughout the performance. the waves seemed like the loudest thing on earth as you awaited an answer from pope. he looked defeated and anxious, knowing that there was no getting through to you for this. 

“i-” pope started before cutting himself off, looking deafeated yet again. he ran his hands over his face in frustration and as he let his eyes shine over the tips of his fingers, they locked with yours. you felt stuck in place and in a trance for a split second before you felt a pair of hands on your waist and soon enough, you were lip locked with pope. 

instantly you pulled away, your heart feeling full and your legs feeling limp. your hands made their way to his jawline, slightly caressing his cheeks and neck as you pulled him back into the kiss, elongating it. 

he pulled away, shocked yet proud with himself. you could not help the small smile that made it’s way onto your face as your cheeks felt hot immediately. “i can’t believe i’m saying this but...fuck it. beat the shit out of vanessa.” 

the small smile grew as a laugh escaped your lips. you were quick to grab his hand as you both made your way back towards the kegger that was becoming a little more dense as the minutes passed. sarah, kiara, jj, and john b’s eyes were quick to fall on your interlocked hands with pope. both of you kept quiet, playing it nonchalantly. but you couldn’t help but notice pope’s look to john b and jj, all with smirks lined up on their faces.

part two out later!! :) 

[outrebanx]

don’t feel

JJ Maybank x female reader

Masterlist

-- // part two // part three // part four

Summary: soulmate au with JJ where they can feel each other’s pain when in close proximity, but with both of them feeling a lot of pain, that connection seems to go almost unnoticed 

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: angsty, abuse, mentions of abuse and injuries, swearing (i think thats it?)

——- I am in no way romanticising abuse if you have any issues with my writing pls message me

A/N: I decided to make this into a mini series as this was already getting pretty wordy and so this is basically the intro?? (not much JJ in it yet) Hope you enjoy and there’s probably some grammar errors so ignore them pls

(gif by @siriusscratch​ )

The kook life wasn’t all luxury all the time - your family had never been one of the richest and you didn’t exactly have the best home life either. Your parents had basically hated each other for as long as you could remember, always in some sort of argument or another, screaming across the house and shouting at all hours of the day and night.

This was something you had learnt to deal with though, what you still weren’t used to was them being violent - it had started off as a vase or plate thrown across the room around a year ago, but this had soon become fists being thrown instead, not only at each other, but they had turned on you and your younger sister as well.

Normally your escape was going to school, just being away from that toxic atmosphere did you a world of good, and after school you would take Grace, your younger sister, out for ice cream or to the beach. Anything to stay out of the house for a little bit longer.

Unfortunately, the school year was now over and the summer holidays had begun and even if the summer season was your favourite, you had been hating every second of it so far.

You had managed to stay in your bedroom for most of today, but were now beginning to get hungry so you knew you’d soon have to venture downstairs and hope that your parents were in an alright mood.

Your sister heard you begin to move down the stairs, popping her head out of her room she said, “Hey Y/N,”

“Hi Grace, you good?”

“Yeah I’m fine, are you getting some food?”

“I’m going to try to yes, I’m assuming you want some of the spoils?” You raised your eyebrow at her in question.

“Yes please,” she looked towards the floor, “I’m sorry I don’t want to go down there tonight, they were arguing when I got in from Carley’s and-“

You cut her off, stepping toward her and putting a strand of hair behind her ears, “hey don’t be sorry, you know I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, I’ll get you some water as well, okay?”

“Thank you, and Y/N, I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

You stepped away, ready to go back downstairs, “I know but I’m the older one and I will always protect you bub.”

With that you took a deep breath in, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Luckily it was empty, so you quickly grabbed some bread and began making some sandwiches for you and your sister. Sandwiches were about as complex as you got when it came to making food but it would do.

You were about to head upstairs when your dad walked in, “Why haven’t I seen you all day?”

“Uh I’ve been busy,” you picked up the plates and tried to move past him, only for him to block your path, “excuse me please.”

“Your mother and I want to see you around the house more, you’re either out or in your room, is spending time with us so bad?”

“I don’t spend time with you because I’m busy Dad, don’t get offended.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth you regretted them, your dad’s face morphed into one of anger.

Before you could even react he brought his fist into your stomach, causing you to double over in pain, dropping the plates you were holding in the process.

“Now look what you’ve done!” He shouted at you, waving his hands at the mess on the floor.

Not wanting to upset him anymore you quickly grab a dustpan and brush and bent down to begin clearing it up when he delivers a vicious kick into your chest, you fall to the floor completely, struggling to breath. He kicks you again, this time the strength in his leg slams you into the cabinets behind you, you wince in pain, too winded to even breath properly, you refused to let the tears behind your eyes fall, from past experience you knew that crying in front of your dad was a bad idea as he viewed it as ’weak’ and it only made him angrier.

He stepped away, giving you room to stand back up, you tried not to grab your front in pain, even if it felt like your insides had been ripped apart and you knew the bruises were already forming and by this time tomorrow your stomach would be a pattern of purple and green bruises.

“I’m sorry honey, I don’t know what came over me.” He tried to reach out to you, but you only flinched away, not looking at him.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll clean this up, you go and have a lie down and I’ll see you later.”

You just nodded, still not wanting to make eye contact with him, and shuffled past him, your body shaking more and more with each step, and once you’d reached the first step, the tears slowly began falling down your face.

Your sister was stood at the top of the stairs, a single tear mark on her cheek as she took in your state, she held out her hand for you, leading you towards your room where you sat on your bed, drained and in pain and not wanting to speak.

Your sister had come back into your room with some cream for your side, but you still didn’t move.

“Y/N,” she moved to grab your hand, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve gone down with you.”

This shook the vacant look out of your eyes, squeezing her hand you said, “Absolutely not, I meant what I said earlier and it is more painful seeing you in pain than what I’m experiencing now.”

You lifted your shirt, revealing the swollen marks that would soon become bruises. Grace’s breath hitched in her throat, “Oh God, this is worse than I thought it was, do you think anything is broken?”

“No, it’s just bruises and anyway he only kicked me a few times today and kind of apologised which is better than most of the time.”

Grace went to say something but you held up your hand to stop her, “I’m not excusing his behaviour don’t worry, I’m just saying it could have been worse.”

“But it shouldn’t have to happen at all!” She had finished applying the cream and began pacing, “I know it happens more to you because you protect me but it disgusts me and I hate how it effects you, you almost become a shell of who you whenever this happens. You’re the best person I know and our fucking parents are destroying you every day!”

“Not so loud Grace.” You try to calm her down, but it only seems to make her angrier, even though she was only thirteen, she had already grown up so much due to what you’d both endured, and it honestly broke your heart.

“I want us to leave this place Y/N.” She turned to you, angry tears now rolling down her face.

You held out your arms for her and she moved over to you, snuggling into your embrace, careful not to hurt you.

“I promise one day we will get out of here but right now we can’t and we’re just going to have to live with it for a little while.”

You could feel her nod against your chest, she moved out of the hug slightly so she could look at you, “Do you want me to stay in here tonight?”

“Maybe, I haven’t decided yet, but first,” you stood up, wincing slightly at the movement, “We still need food, so do you want to sneak out to The Wreck?”

“Only if you’re up for it.”

“Of course I am, any chance to eat those fries I’m taking to be honest.” You smiled at her and luckily she let out a huff of laughter, lightening the mood between you.

“Okay then, which escape are we doing? 1 or 2?” She asked, reaching for a jumper in your wardrobe. Throughout the years, you had both created different codes for around your parents or ways to get out of the house, and at this point it was almost perfected.

You hold you chin in contemplation, “I was thinking one.”

“Interesting,” she clapped her hands together and headed towards your door to go to her room, “Okay I’ll see you at the car in 5 minutes.”

You nodded at her, and turned to the mirror quickly wiping away the mascara stains around your eyes and pulled a jumper on before heading over to your window and pulling it open.

You and Grace both had ways to get out of your bedrooms from your windows - yours was a wooden trellis for the roses and plants to climb up the side of the house, which you had perfected moving up and down on; hers was a small terrace over the outdoor seating area that she could jump to and then jump to the floor on. You never went on each other’s way out as neither of you wanted to risk it not holding both weights and your parents catch you, as this would probably result in at least one of you being sent to the hospital.

You struggled a little today due to your new injuries but still managed and once you had finished climbing down, you wiped your hands on your jeans, and headed to your car on the drive where your sister was already leaning against the passenger door.

You sat behind the wheel, started the engine and slowly pulled out of the drive.

Neither you or your sister spoke for a few minutes, enjoying the fact that you were out of the house and on your way to one of your favourite places on the island. The Wreck was mainly a touron and pogue institution, but you had always enjoyed going there, especially because you and Kiara got along well enough that it wasn’t the normal Kook vs Pogue fight whenever you went.

Grace reached to turn down the radio before looking at you, “Y/N.”

You glanced at her and raised your eyebrows, “Grace.”

“Do you know your soulmate yet?”

You cleared your throat, this topic always made you uncomfortable as the idea there was someone who, if they were near enough to you, could feel the pain you were in, not only made you sad but also anxious because by the time they work out who you are, they could resent you for the pain you had caused them even though it wasn’t your fault.

“No, I’m yet to see someone near me double over in pain when Mum or Dad have used me as a punching bag that day, so I’m starting to think they might not be on this fucking island.” `You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitchy as that and probably should have apologised but it was how you felt.

Your sister had pity in her eyes but didn’t say anything, instead just hummed to the song coming through the car speakers.

You stayed like that, listening to the music and not uttering any other words until you pulled up to the small car park outside the Wreck.

“Right, let’s go and get some food.” You said, opening the door to your car and heading into the restaurant.

Kie smiled at you in greeting before leading you and Grace over to a table at the back, away from most people.

You hit your hip on the table next to yours by accident, causing pain to flare up over your body, making the injuries you already had somehow feel even worse.

Grace had heard your intake of breath, and as you both sat down she looked at you, “Are you okay?”

“Yes I’m fine don’t worry, just being my clumsy self.”

She nodded and looked down at the menu in front of her, you didn’t need to look, you ordered the exact same thing every time, so instead you looked at the people who were sat in the restaurant.

It was past the peak dinnertime service so only a few tourons were in here, and there was Kiara’s little pogue group sat on a table in the opposite corner, all talking in hushed whispers. As you looked at them your head began to pound, like you’d been hit with a baseball bat repeatedly, you couldn’t help but grimace slightly.

You must have hit your head earlier when your dad sent you flying into the cabinets, and this was just a delayed reaction. You kept reassuring yourself this, especially when the blond boy, who you knew was called JJ, turned around, making eye contact with you through his swollen and bruised eyes. He raised his eyebrows quizzically, holding his side slightly, as if in pain.

It was all just a coincidence you thought, you dad had hurt you more than you realised earlier, and you hadn’t taken any painkillers.

You looked down at your menu, trying to escape the gaze of the blond boy, who you could feel was still looking at you.

Yeah it was just a coincidence.

Part two 

Tags: @jiaraendgame ( @teamnick​ i said i’d tag you in my next series hope you dont mind)

[theangriestpea]

Humiliate Me | Sweet Pea

Summary:   Sweet Pea just wants to enjoy his time at the Wyrm, watching his friends play pool. Lavender just wants to get laid. (Links at the end)

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC

Warnings: vaginal sex, daddy kink, minor dd/lg references, humiliation kink, very public sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1.4k+

A/N: This was requested by @elliebear27​ who is so incredibly sweet! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is for bingo slot “Humiliation kink” and used a requested dialogue prompt! I hope this is humiliating enough lol. I feel like I missed the mark a little bit.

Lavender’s hand rested on Sweet Pea's knee, hidden underneath the old table at the Wyrm. They were watching a pool game between Fangs and Joaquin, battling over who would take Kevin out on a date next. It was a pretty even and very amusing match.

Her hand slowly traveled up his leg, squeezing his thigh playfully before venturing inwards closer to the crotch of his jeans. She was already on thin ice thanks to the outfit she had decided to wear. It was a short, pleated leather mini skirt along with a matching black cropped leather jacket. Underneath she had on a fishnet tank top and a black bra, deciding to show off her assets during tonight's adventures at the bar.

Sweet Pea was far from impressed, he had glowered at her the minute he saw her, eyes growing dark with lust and possessiveness. She received a few wolf whistles that made her laugh and toss her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously.

She heard a growl rumble in his chest as she groped him through his jeans. He leaned down to whisper to her in a threatening tone, “Watch it.” He warned, knowing she was acting out just for attention. She could be such a little brat sometimes.

Lavender giggled in response to him, fiddling with the zipper of his black denim pants. “I am watching it, Pea.” She teased, referring to his dick hidden beneath his pants. “It’s growing bigger.”

Her light stimulation and outfit had given him the start of an erection, but it wasn’t anything to worry about at this point in time. He could have easily willed it away if he wanted to, though he had a feeling his girlfriend wasn’t about to let him. “You’re being such a little slut right now, you know that?” He hissed back at her.

An excited thrill shot up her spine at the insult. “I know, daddy.” She said playfully as she finally unzipped his zipper in order to slide her fingers inside to touch his penis through one less layer of clothing. Sweet Pea grunted in response as her manicured nail grazed his shaft.

He tried to shift away from her in the booth, but there wasn’t much room for him to move too. Her hand was suddenly in his pants, wrapping around his penis the best it could through his obstructing boxers. “Shanna.” He hissed sharply under his breath. “You want me to humiliate you in front of the whole gang? Because I will if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Pea.” She cooed before dipping her elegant fingers past his cotton underwear. She was looking up at him now, hazel eyes bright with eagerness. His eyes were narrow and behind them a fire raging. Anger and arousal. A dangerous combination.

He grabbed a fistful of her purple hair, wrenching her head back. “Get in my lap, you dumb whore.” He growled as he pushed his pants and boxers down to free his cock. Lavender moved into his lap, the soft skin of her thighs brushing against his erection. The painfully familiar feeling had him hardening even more.

It was then he discovered that she wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath that impossibly short skirt of hers. “Fucking Christ you just can’t help but be a fucking slut, can you? It’s in your DN-fucking-A.”

Lav let out a tiny whimper, causing Fangs to look over at her from his place at the pool table. She stiffened against Sweet Pea before smiling and giving him a little wave. “You got this, Fangs!” She said playfully as he shook his head and went back to aiming his shot.

Sweet Pea lifted her up enough to align his tip to the entrance of her core. “You better not take your eyes off of them or make a sound, princess. Don’t want everyone here to see what a fucking whore you are, do you? They’ll all want a turn with you after that. Bet you’d love that wouldn’t you? All the cock in the world for your slutty pussy.”

He jerked her down, thrusting up into her at the same time. She let out a gasp, causing both Fangs and Joaquin to look at her. “That was a good shot!” She said back to cover up, now feeling dizzy at the fullness of Pea’s dick buried inside of her while they were out in the open. Sure it was dark, but if anyone really looked then they  could tell right away.

“Are you this wet from me talking to you like this?” He asked, hands on her waist to keep her steady as her hands were gripping the edge of the table tightly. “My cock is water logged right now because of how much you like being called a slut. My baby girl is Southside’s biggest whore.”

She wanted to beg him to move, needing the friction of his penis inside of her slick walls. Her jaw was clenched, teeth painfully pushed together to keep her from making any other kind of sound. Fuck if they were caught then who knows what would happen. Her reputation really could go down the toilet, and she didn’t quite want that.

Her panic vanished when he moved her on top of him, forcing her hips to roll. She leaned forward as much as she could, forearms pressed onto the table now as she continued to watch the boys play. They didn’t seem to be paying her any attention at the moment.. “Pea, please,” She whispered to him, “I’ll be your little slut, please fuck me. I can’t take it-”

He tugged at her hair to silence her before thrusting up into her more. Space was limited and since they had to be discrete, his thrusts weren’t nearly as powerful or as quick as they typically were. That didn’t mean they didn’t feel amazing though.

It was easier to manipulate her body rather than move his, though he did attempt at a combo of both. Mostly it was him lifting her up and guiding her back down as quickly as he could. He lifted her off the table by pulling onto her hair so that he could whisper into her ear. “I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you. I know you can’t get off to this because you’re such a spoiled little brat. Rub your clit while daddy moves your hips for you.”

Lav didn’t have to be told twice. She reached down, pushing her skirt up slightly as her hand ventured between her legs. The pads of her fingers pressed against her swollen clit, her jaw and neck began to ache from how tightly she had her teeth snapped together. She moved her fingers in a quick circular motion. The pace of her fingers was faster than that of Pea’s cock, but that was what was necessary in order for her to actually cum.

She chased her high greedily, wanting nothing more than to topple over the nearing edge. Sweet Pea didn’t mind, he couldn’t drag this out. The longer they were like this, the likelier it was that they’d get caught. He was pretty sure Jones would tear him a new one for it if he was.

Exactly two minutes later Lav was biting into her lip so hard that it began to bleed. She managed to hold back the moan that wanted to force its way out as she hit her peak and came, her vaginal muscles squeezing his cock, urging him to release into her suddenly without warning.

Sweet Pea let go of her so that she could rest against the table. She pretended to be watching the game, but really her vision was too hazy to see what was happening. She had no idea who was winning, all she could concentrate on was the feeling of Sweet Pea’s cock softening while still inside of her.

“That’s it, that’s the kink I never knew I had.” She said finally after she was sure her voice wouldn’t betray the fact that she was still shuddering from the very dangerous session.

Sweet Pea snorted back a laugh as he lifted her off of her and placed her back down beside him. He fixed his boxers and pants after cleaning himself off with a napkin. “You better hope no one saw us or I’m really going to let you have it later.”

She pouted at him playfully, “but what if I want you to really give it to me later? Should I tell Fangs what just happened?”

“Do it and I won’t let you cum for a month.” He hissed. “Just be a good little girl and sit here quietly while I go get us another round.” He got up and nodded to Fangs with a smirk before heading towards the bar.

Tag List: @wayward-river​​, @xserpentlife​, @alexa-playafricabytoto​

Adding links makes me no show up in the tags! Moblie masterlist is pinned! Sorry about that <3

[darkmulti]

Tinker Bell

Stray Kids & Ateez

Parings: Richboy!San & Hyunjin x brat!female reader

Genre: Smut, angst

Word Count: 3.6K

CONTAINS DARK THEMES!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Synopsis: San falls in love with his bestfriends crush and it turns into a messy, love triangle. But once they realize this girl has broken their wonderful friendship..... read to find out

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A/N: Warnings are after under cut! Sorry if I ruined your childhood with the title. Whoops!

⚠️Warnings: forced ddlg relationship, threesome, anal, bondage, overstimulation, dacryphilia, humiliation, physical abuse, language, heavy degradation, cum eating, blowjob, dirty talking, spitting, fisting, camera play, breeding kink, squirting, probably missing something, if I am please forgive me:(

SEMI NON CONSENSUAL SEX

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“Come on Hyunjin, let me go!”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the man and yanks her arm out of his grip. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not interested in dating you. Go back to your nerd club and don’t talk to me again. Being near you can hurt my reputation.”

She pushes him and sashays away. San comes up behind the male and pats him on the back. “Remind me why you like her again? She’s a total bitch that can’t get over herself.” He said while watching her walk down the hallway. “I thought I could date her. I tried everything. I’m nice, aren’t I?”

“You’re nice, but if a history textbook was a human, it would be you. She’s a princess and she needs a prince. Change up your style and maybe you’ll have a chance with her.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Before you start coming at me, why don’t you take a look at yourself. Your hair looks like a pie chart, San.”

“Shut up, my hair looks beautiful.” San huffs and combs his hair back, feeling a little insecure. The two boys were too busy dissing each other’s looks, they didn’t notice Y/N coming back their way and hearing in. “You both are ugly. Sorry, but it had to be said.”

She was just about to walk away until San pulled her back by the arm and pushed her against the locker. He chuckles and gets close to her face, “who are you to judge us because of how we look? Are you some kind of fashion fairy? Listen here you little cunt….” he whispers into her ear so Hyunjin couldn’t hear, “why don’t you spread your wings and not your legs for once, little tinker bell? Fly away from here and don’t talk about us ever again. Though…” San smirks and looks away for a second, before going back. “Though.. I want to fuck you so hard and feel your pussy clench around my cock. But the only turn off about you is how your pussy probably looks like a flat tire.”

San ‘accidentally’ rubs his bulge against her hand and moves away from her face so she could leave. “Now that’s how you put someone back in their place.” Hyunjin looks at San with a resentful expression. “You’re actually such an asshole, Choi San. I just told you that I like her, but you still- you know what? Nevermind. Don’t talk to me ever again.” Hyunjin walks away, angered by San, but San only brushes it off.

This was the beginning of a love triangle.

San didn’t know what came over him when he was confronting Y/N. He didn’t like her at all, but the moment he stood over her, a light turn on. Or maybe it turned off. The young man was doing pull ups in a black tank top, that showed off his muscular biceps. After his workout he showered and changed into his boxers. He was drying his hair, while picking out a ‘less nerdy’ outfit.

He decided on a full black outfit. Black jeans, black shirt and black leather jacket. He grabbed black dye from his drawer and dyed his hair back to black and trimmed his mullet since it was getting long.

Hyunjin was doing something similar. He was also changing up his style with the help of his fashionable mom. She criticizes Hyunjin's wardrobe and lends him his father's clothes, which were much more expensive and trendy. He thanks his mother and shaves his face. He was a little anxious to show off the new Hyunjin, causing him to not sleep very well.

The next morning arrives and Hyunjin wakes up with a full smile. He gets ready for the day and greets his mother, who was preparing breakfast for him. “Oh look at my handsome son.” She walks over to him, cups his cheeks and kisses his forehead. “You look just like your father. He would be proud.” Hyunjin smiles and sits down at the table to eat his breakfast.

The other boy was also getting ready, but sadly his parents were not there to compliment him. San’s parents were constantly working and barely ever considered his existence. He would see his mom once in a while, but rarely saw his dad.

Choi gets in his car and drives to school, only to see a new, black sports car in the parking lot. He parked his car and waited for whoever it was. To his surprise it was Hyunjin. San was a little jealous of him since Hyunjin came from a caring family. His parents spoiled him with love. That’s something San couldn’t compete with.

Y/N was standing in front of the school, checking out Hyunjin. She twirled her gum around her fingers and pulled her skirt higher, so you can see her ass. “Hwang Hyunjin is that you?!” She skips to him with a teasing look on her face. “Sure is. But I thought you didn’t like nerds.”

“I can like you if you keep looking like this.” She winks and places one hand on his shoulder, gradually getting closer to his face. Her other hand takes Hyunjin’s palm and places it on her bare ass cheek. “Don’t be shy, spank me.” She giggles and leans in kissing him. His comforting aroma made her feel safe in his arms. Hyunjin spanks the little girl and grins, holding her closer to him. He was about to say something, until the crowds outside the school started to noticeably whisper. Y/N and Hyunjin both turn to the noise, and see San running his fingers through his hair, with a deadpan expression.

The man bites down on his lip and slightly brings down his sunglasses to wink at a girl. Y/N bit down on her own lip, and felt this irritating rush. Why did her insides burn with jealousy? These were the same two men that she bullied the day before. Yet, they have her dripping wet. She turns her attention back to Hyunjin. “He’s a dumb show off, Hyunjinie. Come on, we’ll be late for class.”

She interwines her hands with his bigger ones and drags him into the school. The second they turn the hallways, they see San having a hot makeout session with some random chick. The man shoving his tongue down the girl's throat didn’t even notice that Hyunjin and Y/N were there, until Y/N cleared her throat. “Excuse me, my locker’s there.” San pulls away and apologizes. “Oh I-I’m sorry, she was just so tasty.” San looks back at his girl and tells her to hand over her phone. “Call me tonight baby. I hope you taste just as sweet as your saliva.” Both of them go their separate ways, leaving Y/N and Hyunjin alone.

Again, Y/N felt pain and anger at the same time. San looked like he was ready to eat the girl alive, and what she would’ve done to be in her place. She sighs and looks at Hyunjin. “I want to apologize for always being a jerk to you. I just- I don’t know. Hurting other people gives me pleasure and attention that I enjoy..”

“Ohhh, so you’re just a needy, little attention whore. I get it now.” Hyunjin nods and face palms his forehead in an over exaggerated way. “I’m not a whore Hyunjin..” She picks up her unzipped pencil case and proceeds to say, “I don’t appreciate that name!” Y/N throws her hands in the air, causing all the pencils to fly out everywhere on the hallway floor. She grumbles and bends down to pick them up, immediately waking up Hyunjin’s little friend. Uncontrollably, he grips onto her waist and pulls her back onto his bulge. Y/N moans and rubs her slit onto him more. “Look at what you've done. Now you have to fix it.”

“Please let me.” Hyunjin easily throws her over his shoulder and spanks her ass. He carried her into the back of the library, where all the bookshelves could cover them. “You have to be quiet, or else we’ll get caught.” “Well no shit sherlock.” She whispers yells, whilst rolling her eyes. Hyunjin bends her over, covers her mouth and slaps her ass. “I dare you to talk back to me…” he spanks her again, “needy whore.”

Hyunjin rips her panties off and stuffs it into her mouth before taking himself out. He puts his hand over the girl's mouth and thrust into her soaked pussy. He pounds her right away, kicking her breath out with each thrust. The library was dead silent and the skin clapping got a little too loud, causing the librarian to get up and look around. She was headed their way and Hyunjin quickly pulled her under a nearby desk and used a chair to cover themselves. Her legs wrap around his waist and he goes even faster, directly hitting her spot, just as the old woman walks passed. She rolls her eyes and covers her own mouth, spasming under him. “C-cum” she squeaks out. “Cum, cum now!” She squeezes her walls around Hyunjin, cumming all over his long veiny cock. “Wait, you’re on birth control right?!” “Yes! Please cum in me daddy, please!”

Hyunjin throws his head back while spilling his seeds in her. Unfortunately for him, he bangs his head under the table, catching the librarians attention. “What the- ” she mutters to herself, pulling the chair away. She finches and yells, “YOU DISGUSTING KIDS ARE HAVING SEX IN MY LIBRARY?!” The man gets off his girlfriend and stands up. “Don’t be upset that you haven’t gotten laid in like... forever. You could’ve masterbated to the sounds of my balls clapping her ass.”

“Hyunjin!” She whines. “Shut it needy slut.”

Her expression changed into disappointment. She didn’t like to be called a slut. “But daddyy~” she tugs on his pants and looks up at him. Hyunjin pulls her up slightly and slaps her. “This is all your fucking fault!” She tears up and holds her burning cheek, “M-my fault? H-how is it my-” Hyunjin slaps her again and drags her by her hair out of the library. “Ow! Hyunjin let me go!” She tries to pry his fingers off her hair, but his grip only gets harder. “P-please hyunjin! Leave me alone!”

“San was right about you! You’re just an attention whore and will spread your legs for anyone!” He spits on her face and pushes her to the ground. He gets on top of her, shoving his fist inside of her and ripping her clothes off. “Hyunjin! It hurts!”

“I bet it does.” Hyunjin took her again, in the middle of the hallway. His fingers were tightly wrapped around her neck to make sure she couldn’t call for help. She sobbed, kicked and squealed under the much bigger man. Her insides were screaming as she could feel his bulge hit her stomach. Hyunjin was too busy taking her to notice San taking a video and quietly walking towards them. Y/N turns her head and her eyes meet San’s eyes right away. Her eyes were full of tears and her arms were weak from punching Hyunjin chests so many times.

Fortunately, Hyunjin notices that something got her attention and looks as well. “San. Why are you recording?” San smiles, “I’m not recording, I’m live. Continue fucking her, the viewers are loving it.”

Y/N cries harder, “no! Stop please don’t record this!” She slips out of Hyunjins tight grip and makes a run for it. Both of the males bolt after her, laughing and teasing her.

She runs outside and trips on her shoelace, causing the cement to tear her skin and bleed. “Owieee” she holds her bleeding knee to her chest and cries. San and Hyunjin run outside and spot her crying. “Awee, did the little Tinker Bell get a boo boo?” San says, mockingly.

“P-please it’s not funny, it hurts.” Hyunjin pushes San back and strikes her face. “This is what I mean. You’re so fucking dumb, you’re not even capable of running away. Now you have to pay.”

“NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!” She ignores the raging pain in her knee and tries to limp away. San wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her back. “Where ya going, Tinker Bell.”

“Let me go! You guys are insane!” She cries in San’s arms and struggles to get out of his grip. “I-I PLEASE! LET ME GO!” San and Hyunjin laugh at her poor attempts. “She’ll never learn until she gets pounded by two.” San says, smirking at Hyunjin. “T-two? Y-you two?... No, no, no, please!” She begs, dropping down to her knees. “Lick my shoe clean and we’ll think about it.” A smug smile plasters on San’s face, but his request made both Y/N and Hyunjin cringe. “What, Tinker Bell? Did I fucking stutter?”

“N-no” she leans down and licks his shoes. “Tinker Bell’s so terrified of me, slut’s licking my shoe. That’s how you dom, Hyunjin.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you kiss her after she licks off your dirty shoes.” Hyunjin’s tone was telling San that he was a bit disgusted, but San gladly does it anyway. He pulls her up by the hair and shoves his tongue down her throat. San wrapped his arms around her and sucked her tongue, until he pulled away, creating a string of saliva between the two. “Open your mouth Tinker Bell.” She opens her mouth and San spits in it and slaps her ass. “Notice how she’s so submissive to me. That’s how you claim your power. Right, Tinker Bell?” San looks down into her pure eyes and pets her cheek with one hand. “Right daddy. You’re always right.” She whispers out, suddenly compelled by San.

“Good girl. Let’s go.” Hyunjin unlocks his car and sits in the driver's seat, while Y/N and San sit in the backseat. During the car ride, San pulled Y/N onto his knee and kept hitting her clit with it. He then licked his fingers and rubbed her clit rapidly, making her cum on San’s thigh. “Daddy!” She moans out, uncontrollably bouncing on his knee. San grabbed her tits and played with them while she bounced and rubbed her clit against his thigh, furiously. “I’m gonna cum again!” San pushes her off of him and shoves his fist into her. “You’re not even fucking tight. What a waste of time.”

Hyunjin chuckles and pulls into his driveway. San takes his fist out and pushes her onto the cement, expecting her to crawl. Y/N’s knee starts bleeding again, so she looks up to San for help. “Please! My knees really hurt!” Hyunjin kicks her down and tangles his fingers into her hair. “Crawl slut!” She winces, slowly crawling into the house until Hyunjin gets impatient and pulls her hair to go faster.

“Please! You’re hurting me! I want San and only San!” Hyunjin kicked her cunt from behind, making her scream and whimper. “I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE HYUNJIN!” The man picks her up and throws her on the bed. The two men act quickly and put her down before she could scream. They tie her down onto the bed and put a tie around her mouth. Hyunjin has been waiting for this moment. He never thought that it would go down like this but hey, it was working and that’s all the matters to him. The little girl he greatly lusted for, was tied to his bed, at his mercy. Hyunjin quickly strips, completely forgetting about San and fucks his soul into her.

“YOU FUCKING CUNT! YOU’RE LIFE WOULD’VE BEEN SO MUCH EASIER IF YOU JUST..” Hyunjins hips sped up and he choked her down, pounding inside of her. “P-PLEASE HYUNJIN! I-I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING, BUT PLEASE SLOW DOWN IT HURTS SO BAD!” Both of them were screaming at the top of their lungs, while San sat back, naked, with one hand stroking his cock and the other hand holding his belt. The skin slapping was music to his ears. He watches as his pal fucks anger and sadness into her, feeling no pity. “SAN P-PLEASE HElp” Hyunjin slaps her and growls, going as fast as he can, nearly breaking the bed.

“I hate you!” She hiccuped. “I hate both of you!” She tugs on her restrainants, but they were just too tight to get out of. Her next option was to cry, but no one would hear her because of the tie around her mouth. Hyunjin’s cock twitched at the sight of her ruined face. Her hot tears glided down her face and her pussy clenched around his cock as it went deep into her stomach. Hyunjin pressed down on his bulge in her stomach and pounds her harder. “You like this Tinker Bell. You love it…”

“No, I don't!” Her words were muffled and weak. “Even if you don’t, I’ll fuck my babies into you in the future. We can have a nice little family. Wouldn’t you love that? Wouldn’t you love to be the mother of my kids?” The man sends her a sinister look, before he cums into her once again. Y/N’s muffled screams release when she squirts all over Hyunjin and starts hysterically crying.

The man blows on her burning clit, sending shivers up her spine. “My turn.” San stands up and clears his throat. His cum was all over his hand and cock. His long, veiny cock stood tall and proud. He walks past Hyunjin, and flips Y/N over onto her stomach, because her preferred to take her from behind. “San please, please have mercy on me! I beg you! Please please please stop!”

“Little whore’s scared now? What happened to the brat behaviour? What happened to that diva, fashion fairy? Is she hiding in your tiny asshole? Looks like I have to go in, to find out.”

“NO!” San presses her face into a pillow and forces his cock into her ass. Her hole hugged each of his veins, throwing him off the edge. “Fuck! This is the only hole of yours that isn’t tight. Well not for long.” She kicks her feet under him, hoping to grab his attention. But it doesn’t work. Nothing and I mean nothing would stop San in that moment.

To make it even ‘better’, Hyunjin pulls her hair out of her face and forces his cock down her throat, face slamming her after. She gags multiple times and her tears slide down his cock, making it salty.

San rams her ass, while Hyunjin fucks her face and all she could do was cry about it. Her ass was on fire around San’s huge cock because she’s never been stretched in that area.

Both of the males cum almost at the same time. Y/N’s ass overflows with San’s cum and her mouth fills up with Hyunjin’s. “Is it- is it over?”

“Not even close!” The boys flip her on her side and this time, Hyunjin takes her from behind. Both don’t waste any time to hold her down and fuck her viciously. San watched as the girl’s tears, whimpers and sobs left her shaking mouth. Hyunjin choked her from behind while slamming into her. She cries, helplessly on San’s shoulder, regretting every mistake she’s made.

“Please slow down! My body can’t do it! Please I’ll faint! Please!” She sobbed out, feeling her heart break. “Please!” They both move in closer, squishing Y/N between them, so she could feel the pressure in her stomach. San and Hyunjin’s cock rub inside her, and go up to her stomach, constantly knocking air out of her.

San moves her hair away from her face and ear. He kisses her jawline up to her ear and whispers. “You gonna be a good girl for your daddies?”

“Yes”

“Are you gonna listen and obey your daddies?”

“Y-yes”

“You’re gonna allow your daddies to use you for anything they want, correct.”

Her heart clenches and she squeezes her eyes shut, squirting around San.

“C-c-cor-rectt” she quietly stutters out.

Hyunjin marks her neck up from behind, while San made sure she was still conscious. Y/N’s vision blurred because of the tears in her eyes and she slowly cried under the two men. Her legs were too weak to kick, she lost her voice from crying, and had the small amount of energy that was keeping her conscious.

Hyunjin moves in closer, licking and sucking on her ear. San moves in closer too, pulling her in a rough, deep kiss, giving her all of his saliva. He proceeds to lick her cheeks and bite her jawline. “You’re so fucking sexy, tinker bell.”

The man behind you starts degrading you in your ear. “It could’ve just been me and my cock. But you need two to pound this filthy, used pussy. This is your fault! Keep crying about it, but just know you did this to yourself!” He spits on her face and slaps her ass.

“Daddies, I’m close and it hurts.”

“Baby, squirt for your daddies one more time.”

She shakes her head, no, because her insides were killing her. Her core was on fire and they kept hitting the same spot where it hurt. She silently sobs and stuffs her face into the pillow, not having the energy to face them.

“Do it! Squirt you little slut!” San growls in her ear, and his sweat drips down onto her face.

“I-it hurts! N-no!”

San holds her down and they both increase their speed, making her scream. “IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY!” She clenches around the boys and quivers violently. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything! Please I’m so sorry!”

She cries as she squirts for the third time. Her crying was a lot louder and both of the men hugged her to calm her down. “That’s enough, don’t overreact.” Hyunjin says, in a quiet tone.

Her legs shake and her eyelids get heavy. “A-are we done?”

San kisses her forehead and cuddles in closer.

“Yes we are, Tinker Bell”

————

Not edited! Will edit in the morning!

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me

Chapter Two: Paint It Black

Hello Loves! Just to let everyone know, my chapters go from flashbacks to present day! Thank you all for sticking with me and I am sorry this chapter is posted a bit late! 

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of Gore, violence, swearing

Read Chapter One Here 

He had spent several hours outside your window, trying to figure out the next phase of his plan. But once the Doctor had arrived and swept you into his arms, he had decided to go home. Not back to his apartment, that was the place he resided. His home was a place nobody could know about. 

It was a place for only him and his mentor Drew. 

He walked into the kitchen to find Drew cleaning up his knives. “Hey little brother, out with your girl again?” Drew asked with a mischievous smile. 

Little brother was Drew’s nickname for the boy, they weren’t blood-related, but being 7 years younger than Drew, he had taken the boy under his wing.

“Yeah, until her stupid fucking doctor came.” the boy replied. 

“Don’t worry about the Doctor, your time will come.” Drew reassured. “Come, sit, I just finished up making dinner.” 

The boy sat down, pushing aside Drew’s papers so he had space to eat.

“Ah, ah,ah, you’re going to want to look at those. Those papers contain all the fun things you need to know. I’m not teaching you all of this for nothing huh?” Drew smiles, placing the papers back in front of the boy, alongside a bowl of stew.

“Do you really think this will work?” The boy asked, glancing over Drew’s explicitly written notes.

“Don’t worry little brother, this whole thing is trial and error.” Drew reassured. “Don’t be intimidated I’ve had this whole thing planned for a while and she won’t be the first, she can be our finale-” Drew was interrupted by a scream. He rolled his eyes. “Goddamnit, this bitch just never shuts up. I wanted to surprise you with her, but now she spoiled it.” 

The boy gave Drew a curious look. Drew chuckled. “Come on little brother I will show you.” Drew led the boy down to their basement. “After she’s gone, I’ll soundproof the basement better. I just needed an idea of how loud these whores will scream.”

The color drained from the boy’s face as his gaze fell on the woman. She was tied to Drew’s metal table, she looked like one of the frogs that the Boy had to set up for dissection for Professor Irving’s class, except she was very much alive, and slightly bloodied. 

“Meet trial number one little brother, she looks quite like your girl huh? I think all of em’ should just so you can be prepared for your finale with her.” Drew turned to the Boy. “Surprise.”

“How long has she been missing?” the Boy asked, panicked. How could Drew not warn him? “Relax, like I said she’s trial one. Just a corner whore, no one will even notice she is gone. The next one will be the real challenge, I want to find one exactly like your girl and I already found her, this one we will just pump and dump. Did you get those chemicals from your professor like I asked?” 

The Boy nodded “It all in my backpack.” The Boy couldn’t drag his eyes away from the girl on the table. Yes she had your hair and eye color, but she was a hideous thing compared to you. A mere whore could never compare to you. “If she’s a whore I don’t want to touch her. I’ll try the next one.”

Drew huffed. “Fine, you only have to watch this time virgin boy. But next time, I expect you to be hands on. I’m not doing all this work for nothing.”

The Boy’s face was emotionless the whole time he watched Drew, even when the blood spurted, even when the girl looked at him, pleading for help. Even when she stopped breathing and the chemicals he brought were used to melt her flesh. 

The Boy felt nothing.

________________________________________________________________

There was an extra flounce to your step as you made your way to your favorite cafe. Maybe it was because you had successfully hired a few new employees to help your company flourish, maybe it was because one of them had already settled a new deal in Ohio, or maybe it was because you knew Spencer was coming back from a case today. 

Hell, you had just had a fantastic day and you needed to update Ava and grab your favorite mocha latte to top it off. And maybe it was your 4th coffee of the day, but so what?

Your face lit up even more when you saw Ava. “Hello my darling best friend.” You said causing Ava to grin. 

“Hey there babe, what’s got you so preppy today?” Ava asked. 

“Well, let’s see; I hired 3 new employees who already are fantastic, one of which already booked us a design job in Ohio. Oh and my superhero hot boyfriend is coming home from a case tonight.” You grinned.

Ava rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe you told him I call him that. I wanted to dissolve into the floor and simultaneously kick your ass.” She laughed. “As for the new employees, are any of them hot? Single? Oh and Ohio is good I guess.” 

You giggled. “Well Thomas is incredibly handsome, but I am afraid his soon to be husband might want to have a word with you if you try anything. As for the other two, Aiyla and May, I think you’ll find them stunning and single.” 

Ava wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t tempt me girl, you know I swing both ways. Anyway, grab a seat, I’ll grab your coffee and bring it out to you. I get off early today so we can actually talk to each other rather than me hopping back and forth between the counter. James gets to hold down the fort with Emma and the newbie Jane today.”

“Well, maybe Jane will help him get out of his shell.” You hoped. Ava shrugged. 

“Maybe, anyway, Ohio?” Ava questioned.

 “Oh! Yes. My new minions are sketching our designs as we speak. The company is called Ohio technological, a very original name yes-” You said as Ava snorted. “But they’re trying to create an office space like Google, however I am going to one up that and add my own spin to it. Also your girl has a fantastic budget from this company and I am being paid bank!” You squealed.

Ava squealed with you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them tight. “(Y/N) that’s fantastic! I am so proud of you girl, you’ve been working so hard on this and I am so glad it’s all working out.” 

“There is one downside though.” You said with a sigh. “I have to get my plans to them by next week and once they approve of them, I have to head to Ohio for three weeks. After that I will just have Thomas overlook the project and tie up any loose ends. Either him or I will have to fly down and check in on the progress every couple weeks until then.”

 “Could be worse though.” Ava shrugged.

“That’s true, but Spencer and I have been dating for almost 3 months and half the time we can’t see each other. I’m worried that the distance will ruin us.” You confessed.

 Ava's face went completely serious and she grabbed your arm gently. “(Y/N, I have never seen a boy more in love with you. You have never seemed happier in your life. You two will make it work I promise. You’re both so in love it makes me sick.” You snorted out a laugh and Ava smirked.

 “Like I said, if he has a brother-” 

“AVA.” You groaned.

 _______________________________________________________________

The boy burst through the door, startling Drew. 

“Yo, what the fuck man?” Drew hissed. 

“She’s leaving. Fuck, fuck, fuck Drew. She’s leaving.” The Boy slammed the door shut, he leaned against it and slid down, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey little bro, take a breath, what happened?” Drew came over and pushed the boy’s hands away from his face.

“She’s leaving me Drew. For three weeks! She’s going to Ohio for THREE WEEKS. 21 days, almost a month! I won’t see her and when I do she will probably be with that goddamn doctor! What do I do?” The boy cried. 

“That fucking whore, it’s like she knows she’s making you suffer. She’s probably reveling in it. Don’t worry. While she’s gone, we will perfect our craft and get you ready. Then when she comes back you’ll strike.” 

Drew reassured the Boy, pulling him in for a hug.The Boy pulled away, dragging an arm across his tearful eyes. 

“You promise?” 

“I swear it.” Drew growled. 

________________________________________________________________

Present Day

“Garcia what did you find?” Reid asked, pleading that it would be a reliable lead. 

“Something that you won’t really like Reid.” Garcia said seriously, her usually bouncy personality was flat. “Something about your gift irked me, I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but then I remembered; the Curtis case.” 

Spencer’s heart fell into his stomach. The Curtis case had happened a few months after Spencer had started dating you. It had happened right here in Quantico, which terrified Spencer, especially since you fell perfectly under the unsubs victimology; 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/E/C), successful middle class women who lived alone for one reason or another. You had luckily been out of town for a business trip at the time, working on an office design for a company in Ohio. 

Spencer remembered a phone call he had with you one night during the case. He had called you after finding yet another dead victim, raped and torn to pieces, whore scribbled all over their wall in their blood. It had made him sick, because all he could picture was you in their place.

It was late when he called you, but he had just needed to hear your voice and know you were okay. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Your voice was sleepy, but concerned, you had kept up with the news and had heard about the horrible murders going on while you were gone.

 “Not really, but I just needed to hear your voice. There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, you could hear the tears in his voice. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.”

 “Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood.

 It had worked slightly as you heard him let out a small laugh followed by a sniffle. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.” 

Spencer paused and thought for a second, part of him wanted you as far away as possible, while the other part just wanted you in his arms. “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.” 

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.” 

“I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” A true smile beamed across his face, you guys had never said that to one another before and it meant just as much over the phone as it would in person.

Spencer flashed back to the present. “Andrew Curtis is in jail right now with three life sentences, how could this have anything to do with his case?”

 Garcia cringed a bit, “His calling card.” The words hit Spencer like a ton of bricks, how could he have not seen it before?

The gift box, the red bow, the eyes scratched out of the picture, that was exactly what Curtis had sent to his victims before they were attacked by him. Most of the women had thought it was a prank, a way to scare them into submission, they were incredibly wrong.

“So what could it be, a copycat?” Emily asked.

 “That is a possibility, they are using the exact same delivery company Andrew Curtis used, I found this on the security footage.” Garcia pulled up an image of a man wearing a uniform; it was a hideous orange color with the words “Swiftly Delivered” on it, khaki shorts, and white tennis shoes. 

“You think the company would have shut down or at least redesigned their hideous uniform after all the association with Curtis.” Emily mumbled.

“Well, I think in this case it’s lucky they didn’t, that way we could easily find the connection.” JJ said.

 “How could something like that have gotten cleared by security?” Rossi wondered aloud. “You think someone would have possibly recognized it, the case is still pretty fresh.” 

“Well, the box had no threat, no weapons, they must have just scanned it and sent it through. Alyssa was the one who brought it up with the rest of the mail. She said nothing seemed off about it when she brought it up, she just thought it was someone who was sweet on our pretty boy.” Morgan explained.

“Everyone is just so invested in my love life that we miss obvious clues.” Spencer growled frustrated.

“Well, at least we have a lead.” Hotch interrupted. “JJ, Morgan, I need you guys to head over to Swiftly Delivered. Ask them about their past customers and see if they can remember our unsub. Emily, you and Reid head over to (Y/N)’s apartment and see if you can find anything. Rossi and I are going over to talk to Curtis.”

“Hotch, I need to talk to Curtis.” Reid protested. “If he knows anything about (Y/N)-”

“No Reid. You know (Y/N)’s apartment better than anyone. You will notice if anything is wrong.” Hotch explained sternly.

“Hotch-” Reid argued. 

“No. I don’t trust Curtis, he seemed too interested during his original case. If he knows something, I can’t have him getting under your skin. Reid’s head fell in defeat. “But-” Reid’s head shot back up. “If you guys finish before us. Meet us at the prison.” Hotch ordered. 

Hope filled Reid’s eyes.

TAGLIST

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn  @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz​ @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi​ @iifloweringnightsii

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic. chapter twelve: the desire to devour

word count: ~10.3k rating: m warnings: naughty language, .000002 seconds of spiciness (but not really), john goes "we were vibing, right? we had the vibes? right?" for like the entire last half. also mentions of self-harm and elliot's previous trauma. notes: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this chapter! this is going to be the last sort of in-between chapter before we really get into it, and from here it's going to go faaaaast. i had a lot of fun writing it and feeling out these different dynamics. not to mention john being a gigantic fuckhead (but like what is new, lmao). special thank you as always to my wifey and beta reader @starcrier for your impeccable eyeballs, and also to @vasiktomis and @shallow-gravy for lending their eyes as well because i did fuss a bit with this chap. i would be lost without y'all. thank you everyone for your love and support, esp with comments! it really fills my heart so so much to hear back from you, and i am always in the market for friends so do not be afraid to reach out to me <3

She is twenty-five.

She’s twenty-five, and it's her first full day of work. Or, it was; now, she's sitting in the Spread Eagle listening to Pratt talk about everything that's happened while she's been gone, because he'd said, c'mon, let me take you out tonight. He grins a boyish, toothy grin at her—the same kind that's mimicked in the multiple school dance photos her mother covets—and tries to sound nonchalant when he asks how she liked being in the city.

It's hard not to think about how this is the first place she had ever met John Seed, then-Duncan, and how it feels like it's spoiled the whole place for her.

Elliot redirects her attention as best as she can to what it is Pratt is saying. He's fishing for information. They've always been each other's safety net, the person they can fall back on when all else fails. School dances. Picking partners in class. Graduation walking buddies. He'd driven her to the airport when she left for the Academy, even. But even though she knows he's trying to figure out if she's still a safety net, Elliot can't disguise the way thinking about Mason makes her feel—disgusting—so she brings the beer bottle to her mouth and takes a swallow.

The result is her face scrunching up. Pratt laughs.

“Geez, Elli, slow down,” he says, his smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Bet money you're still a lightweight. When'd you start drinking beer, anyway?”

“I didn't,” she manages out around the taste, swallowing thickly. “I just won't let your money go to waste.”

He shrugs, as if to say, could, if you wanted, and swivels on the stool a little. He wants to press again—she can tell—but seems to have the good sense not to, instead busying his mouth with his own beer.

“Mama said Whitehorse let you right on,” Elliot says casually, trying to ignore the twinge of envy in her voice.

Pratt shrugs again. “He's known my dad a long time.”

“Known my mom too,” Elliot replies, dry.

“Yeah, well.” Pratt pauses, and sounds a little smug when he says, “Just because your mama likes me doesn’t mean I don’t know how she is to everyone else.”

“Likes you, does she?”

“Obviously,” the brunette replies confidently. “She still keeps all those photos of us. Remember senior year, she had all of her gal pals over when we were getting ready for prom—”

“Ugh.”

“—took us about 45 minutes before we were exactly where she wanted to take pictures—"

She rolls her eyes. Pratt grins, and then bumps his shoulder against hers. He says, “Aw, c’mon. Not so bad, is it? Having your mom like me?"

Elliot can feel the flush spreading under her cheeks. Not because she's embarrassed, or flustered, but because the beer sitting in her stomach feels rotten, and because Pratt's looking at her with the same kind of eyes he did before—always, always there's the before—and she doesn't know how to say I'm not her anymore, I'm not that girl, I'm different and changed and I don't know how to go back.

It doesn't matter. If Pratt can see it on her face, he doesn't let it show; just pats her shoulder and pretends he doesn't see the way she flinches from his hand swinging into her peripheral, pretends he doesn't notice the way she covers it up by swallowing another mouthful of beer she doesn't want to drink.

“Hudson’s really glad to have you back,” he says after a minute, when she doesn’t confirm nor deny that it’s not so bad knowing her mom thinks he’s a fine enough person. “Been talking about it nonstop.”

A smile creeps its way onto her face. “I’m glad to be back. With her, especially.”

“Yeah, you two always been thick, huh?”

She nods, swallows more beer, and Pratt rolls his eyes and snags the bottle out of her hand.

“Don’t keep drinking if you don’t like it,” he tells her, and then finishes it off himself, setting the empty bottle on the countertop with a grimace. “Can’t have people telling Whitehorse I bullied the probie into drinking.”

“‘Probie’,” she scoffs. “I could kick your ass.”

“Bullshit!”

“Could’ve done it before, Pratt.”

“Now that is lies and slander.”

Elliot only grins at him, the only time since coming back sans Joey getting her from the airport that it’s been a genuine thing; lopsided and a little sloppy but a grin nonetheless. Pratt finishes his own beer now, coughing a little into his fist before he blurts out, “I’m glad, too.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“That you’re back,” Pratt clarifies. “Y’know—nice to have my friend back. Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway.”

He doesn’t know. He can’t know, because her mother won’t talk about it and Joey would never divulge what it was that had brought about her speedy return—but even though he doesn’t know about the way she has to swallow back a flinch every time he waves his hand in her peripheral, or the way the smell of beer on a man’s breath makes her stomach clench with anxiety, or how her hands are so fucking cold all the time because her heart hammers in her chest, the way he says that (Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway) feels a little like vindication.

“S’okay,” she murmurs, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Came back in one piece, didn’t I?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The scent of roses wafted over her in waves. The sound of bathwater murmuring against the sides of the porcelain tub rippled each time she moved, each time she used the grip of her hands against the lip of the sides to sink herself under; her knuckles went cold with the ferocious grip, but when she went under she was submerged in quiet once more. Blissful, serene, quiet; just what she wanted.

Elliot pulled herself out of the water. Downstairs, she could hear her mother’s voice, spiking frantic even through the floors and the two closed doors that kept her separated.

“...years, Mr. Seed, I have lost years of my life agonizing over what she did to herself...”

She dipped below the water, closing her eyes. No sound; no shrill noise; just the heavy, bloated static that existed underneath the surface of the bath. Only her and the baby.

It occurred to her, absently, that she needed to start picking out names for the baby. Now that they had a guess at what the gender was, they’d have to decide about a name; not only a first, but a middle, too—the last name—

“...find it quite intriguing, actually, that the second she comes back to me after being involved with your kind that she’s got all this—this—”

Oh, don’t say it, Elliot thought tiredly, closing her eyes.

“—tear, just wretched wear and tear, Mr. Seed, don’t you? Don’t you find that intriguing?”

John was sitting down there, enduring a thorough verbal lashing, and she hadn’t even asked him to. She’d said, I don’t care if she thinks it was me, and he’d guided her upstairs and cupped her face and kissed her, long and open-mouthed, and swept his thumb over her cheek. Now, Elliot could hear the sound of his voice—calmer, empathetic, like just knowing that her mother was hysterical was giving him some kind of control over himself—but that he was speaking in a normal tone meant that his words didn’t come through quite so clearly.

She heard the sound of her mother saying, “I suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re not bothered in the least?” just before she dipped under the water again.

What was she going to name the baby? Did she even have an idea of what kinds of names she liked? Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her attention; she thought, I’m too tired to come up with a baby name, and gripped the edges of the bathtub harder. More fierce, more firm; grip and pull, maybe spill the entire bathtub over, tilt the clawed feet until it hit the tiled floor and the porcelain broke and the rose-scent water flooded the bathroom, her room, the hallway.

Then they’d have to leave. Then they couldn’t stay, surely, in a house flooded with rose water.

Fingers brushed over hers where they’d gone white at the edges of the tub. She pulled herself out of the water to find John sitting there, knelt at the side of the tub—not unlike the way he’d sat back at her mother’s house in Hope County, when she’d drank too much in the bathtub and said that he could mark her.

Because that’s what it had been. As much as she had wanted it, as much as she had enjoyed it, no matter what John said—he had been marking her as his. Like that Oscar Wilde poem.

The same sin binds us.

Elliot brushed the water from her eyes and settled her head back against the tub, regarding him. He looked less bothered than she thought he would, having sat through her mother’s grilling and interrogation—though he did look like he wanted to say something, like maybe it was sitting, burning into ash in his mouth, the way she could see the flex of his jaw and the way his free hand clenched and loosened.

Ignoring the nagging feeling that he wanted to ask her what she’d been doing under the water, and the even more bothersome knowledge that she had, at some point, become painfully aware of his body language, Elliot said, “We have to think of a name.”

John blinked at her. Less than an hour ago, he’d been saying Of course I’d come for you, I love you, with or without the baby I love you, and she’d been sobbing into his arms and clinging to him.

He said, “And a middle name.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

A smile finally ticked the corner of his mouth, his fingers uncurling hers from the edge of the tub. Reluctantly, she let him.

“Your mother’s upset.” He paused. “She still wants you to play nice for her Christmas party, but she’s upset.”

“I know,” she replied sullenly. The despair of her shame, which had at once both overwhelmed her and hollowed her out, had dissipated in the wake of her indignation. What would she know, that vicious thing inside of her said, replaying the way her mother’s expression had crumpled. What would she know of our suffering? What would she know of our pain? ‘Wretched wear and tear’, like we haven’t been torn up for ages, like she didn’t throw us to the wolves and scoff in disgust when we came back bloodied and battered.

She wanted to be angry, really angry, but like most things that had to do with her mother, Elliot found herself more exhausted than anything. Scarlet had always found it impossible to comprehend the scars she’d given herself, had always claimed to feel disconnected to the ways Elliot had searched out meaning and comfort.

Absently, Elliot wet her lips and let her gaze flicker up to where John had perched himself beside the tub. He looked mighty pleased with himself, having finally gotten his words out. I love you, he’d said, palm flat against her window, I love you, with or without the baby.

And John, I want a home with you.

And John, Marriage is hard work, but I know you’re just the woman for the job.

And John, No way baby, I’m fucking it for you.

Blood rushed through her head, thunderous. John was saying something to her, but the words felt distant, and far away, and everything felt like it was underwater when she moved—not just the parts of her submerged in the bath, but all of it, the air too-thick and dragging on her skin and pulling her down slow as molasses. She blinked a few times as she disentangled their hands and reached for the towel, but John pulled it off of the hook first.

She watched him. She watched his mouth move, and his brows pull and furrow together at the center of his forehead, and the way his breath rose and fell in his chest, pushing and pulling the Sloth scar scratched across his sternum. Just like me, dream John had said, gripping her blood-covered hands, you’re just like me.

His voice, muffled and bogged down by the blood rushing through her ears, quirked up at the end. Elliot’s eyes darted back to his, and she asked, “Sorry, what?”

“The water’s cold,” he replied, waving the towel a bit. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. She felt hollow. Her fingers itched. She wanted—

John caught her hand as she stepped out of the bathtub, steadying her while her free hand gathered the towel up against her front. Goosebumps prickled across her skin, the lukewarm temperature of the bath still lingering; his fingers interlaced with hers, and she used it to steady herself.

He was close. They were close. A part of her resented it—that she let him be so close to her, that she let him kiss her and fuck her but mostly that she let him hold her when she cried, miserably, that she wanted to go home. Because after everything, after all of it, Hope County still felt—

She closed her eyes. Of course it still felt like home. Joey was there; now she knew Pratt was, too.

And among all of that, if she waded through the weeds spreading in her mind, if she hacked and cut them away, there was John.

“What are you thinking about?” John murmured, his cologne washing over her, their noses brushing. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a little breath, that wanton little creature in her head chanting it over and over. There’s John, there’s always been John, nobody will love us with this much red in our ledger. No one but him.

“You,” she managed. Her head felt swimmy, the words coming out of her mouth sounding like a stranger’s—thick with want. John’s eyes flickered up to hers, having fixed on her mouth.

“If you want something, Ell,” he rumbled, the pressure of his fingertips against the back of her neck guiding her forward just a little but not all the way, “you only—”

Elliot leaned forward and kissed him, her hand lifting so that she could curl her fingers into his hair, the towel slipping to the floor. His body had tensed, like he wasn’t expecting it—like he was waiting for something else—and she thought about the way he’d kissed her with Kian’s blood in her mouth, the way he’d been just rampant with desire, the way the way the way—

Her teeth caught his lower lip, a little sharper than she’d intended, and his hand gripping her wrist tightened and he moaned, and she felt that same little thrill as before surge through her. It’s my magic, too, the itch in her fingers subsiding when she dug her nails in and pulled his hair a little, parting her lips against his; John leaned into her, crowding her up against the counter in front of the mirror, the hand at the nape of her neck threading into damp hair.

“Ell,” he said against her mouth, his voice rougher than before and hands planted on the counter on either side of her, “what are you doing?”

She murmured, “Stop talking,” and kissed him again, fingers clumsily working through the buttons on his shirt—her voice came out even but everything else about her felt wobbly, unsteady, craving craving craving the way it felt to have him begging her. Anything, to feel in control. Anything, to feel whole. Dig, and dig, and when you hit the bottom you keep digging some more, right?

What do we do with grief, right?

Burn and erase the image of her mother’s disgust and horror at seeing a part of her she might actually like, scrape it from her mind, dig her trenches deep deep deep and hunker down where she could feel safe, where she could feel strong; soon she would be home and—

And John’s teeth snagged her lower lip in retribution, sparking violent and red-hot behind her eyes with pleasure lighting her neurons on fire.

“Off,” she ground out against his mouth, pushing helplessly at the shirt she’d only halfway unbuttoned. The brunette grinned; his hands resumed her work, and she instead devoted her attention to the belt at his waist, yanking at it as John’s face dropped to her neck, hot breath fanning across her skin teeth dragging against her pulse point to pull a moan out of her.

There was a split second between John discarding his shirt on the floor and gripping her hips to lift her onto the countertop, his mouth seeking hers out again as she wound her arms around his neck. She had never been completely naked and felt not vulnerable at all, felt more in control—but she did, now, when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled and he moaned her name, a little frantic, Ell, Ell, hellcat, he said into their kiss, let me let me, greedy and wanting as he glided fingers up along the inside of her thigh.

He tensed, like he was going to drop to his knees, and she kept her hand in his hair and said, “Don’t.”

“Hm,” is what he replied, “pulling on my hair, ordering me to take my clothes off—”

“I’m about to tell you to shut up again.”

“—but won’t let me eat you out?” John grinned against her mouth, the scent of his cologne—expensive, stupid shit, but it never failed to feel like it was overwhelming her senses—washing over her. “What is it, baby? Want me to say please?”

Yes, something wicked inside of her said, John’s eyes lifting from her mouth to hers, narrowing playfully. Yes, I’d like that, I’d like to hear you say it like that.

“I know you,” he purred. He dug his nails into her hips, a sound—the wanting kind—trying to crawl its way up her throat. “Know exactly what you want from me. Yeah? So, Ell, won’t you please—”

There was a sharp knock at the door, a pause, and then: “Elliot?”

A near-silent laugh billowed out of John, stifled into her neck when her mother’s voice came through the door. Elliot’s eyes fluttered; her fingers, knotted in John’s hair, loosened and smoothed down the back of his neck, the intoxicating tension relaxing just a little. Heat had coiled in the hollow of her chest, spreading warm fingers at the same leisurely pace that John’s hand drifted up to her hip, his mouth finding the hollow of her jaw.

“I can’t believe her,” she muttered. “Yes?”

“Miss West is here, with her brother.” Scarlet’s voice was tight. “Returning your vehicle.”

Fuck. Elliot sighed, her eyes closing for a second while she tried to gather her thoughts. It was difficult to focus with John’s breath on her neck and his hands on her skin and that fucking cologne—and boy, did she not want to dwell on the fact that he’d shown up with barely anything but somehow also remembered to pack his stupid fucking cologne. But there was a different, special kind of warmth that spread through her when she realized that Sylvia was coming to check on her.

“Hair’s wet,” she called after a moment, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Fine.” There was another pause, and then her mother’s voice, scathing even through the door: “Ensure you are put together, Elliot.”

John murmured against her neck, “So no hickeys, then?” and she swatted his shoulder, rolling her eyes and sliding off of the counter. He seemed reluctant to let her disembark, thumb sweeping the slope of her hip before he dropped down—just far enough to plant a kiss on the gentle slope of her tummy. It was—sentimental, unseating her with incredible ease.

And then he ruined it by saying, “Your mommy won’t let me fuck her filthy, but I hear the second trimester throws a woman’s hormones through the roof, so we’ll see how long that lasts,” to her bump as he grabbed the towel from the floor to offer to her.

She snatched it from his hands, wrapping it around herself. “Don’t say that shit to the baby. You think I won’t end your life?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he offered, head cocked to the side. “Leaving the hickeys, anyway, I mean. Well, and the second part too. About sex. Not the murderous part. Actually, you know I find it—”

Choosing to ignore the latter statement, Elliot narrowed her eyes. “You’d risk Via’s opinion of you dropping so severely?”

“You know what they say.” John spread his hands, almost in a gesture of helplessness; though she knew he was far from it. “Old habits die hard.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“She’s killing all of my angels!”

Faith’s voice was sharp, piercing; Isolde’s fingers fluttered over the bridge of her nose to fend off an impending headache, pen held poised above the notepad where she’d been writing down her thoughts but had paused in time for the girl’s interjection. She couldn’t stand a messy page—ink smears, jarred letters. Unacceptable.

Two hours ago, she’d had Jacob drive her out to where the service was strongest. A flood of emails and texts from her family had been waiting to overload her phone. Her dad, things are looking poorly, where are you?, her sister, I’ve been trying to reach you for days.

“Jacob,” the blonde plunged on, interrupting her train of thought, “you have to do something. They’re being—gutted like fish!”

“You should have locked them down,” Jacob told her. “And you’re not the only one losing things.”

“I put—” Faith cut herself off, clearly taking a moment to compose herself before she pitched her voice low and said, “I put just as much work into them as you do into yours.”

The red head’s voice bloomed with annoyance when he said, “Oh, did you?”

“No fighting, please,” Joseph called from where he sat next to her. His voice was even, elbows rested on his legs and fingers interlaced in thought. “I know this is stressful. But you must keep your faith in God.”

“Santi told me that—whoever she is has been leaving their corpses all around!” Faith’s voice pitched high with distress, now, sweeping around Jacob to come to where they had sat, big doe eyes wide. “We have to do something. Please, Father—I don’t want our people to wonder if they’re going to be next.”

Joseph paused, looking pensive for a moment; Isolde thought he might have been trying to figure out how he wanted to phrase something, but before he could speak, Isolde looked at Jacob and said, “You were going to hunt her down anyway, weren’t you?”

The eldest Seed’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you start with me too, Sol.”

“Get some fresh air,” she replied curtly, “go for a drive, clear your head. Eliminate a problem. You’ve been wearing a hole in the floors anyway; put that energy into being productive.”

“P—” Jacob’s voice spiked, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

He was agitated. She could tell—Pratt, and the phone call with the deputy in Georgia, and the Hunter on some kind of one-man rampage. But more importantly, Isolde thought, Jacob was agitated because there had not been a single conversation between him and Joseph since their argument.

Well, not even an argument. Just a lashing. A public one.

Isolde scooted her chair back from the table that had been set up at the front of the chapel, setting her pen down and stepping away. Her hand landed on the crook of Jacob’s elbow as she passed, and though he made a noise that implied disdain, he followed—not without shrugging her hand off by the time they got to the front doors of the chapel, leaving the other two to talk in low, murmured voices.

“You have got to stop letting this get to you,” she hissed.

“Nothing is ‘getting’—”

“Listen to me,” Isolde interjected. “I’ve been keeping as close an eye on the news as I have been on you. Things are—” She paused, mouth twisting around the words. “There is no room for you lot to be bloody fighting with each other. Do you understand me? This has moved far past needing to prepare PR and build a legal defense.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked suspicious. “So why are you still here then, Sol?” he asked.

The words burned insult in her chest. Why are you still here, stinging fresh and hot, because it was a fair question. It was the most fair question. Unlike any of these people, she had a family outside that she still loved. Her sister, and her parents. She should have told John and all of the Seeds to go fuck themselves, to enjoy the end of the world, while she went to be with her family.

But she wasn’t. She was here. Doing—this. Finding fresh new ways for Joseph to connect with his people to keep their morale high, keeping the infighting at bay to make sure they looked like a united front to everyone, second doomsday cult included.

“My parents will take care of Avery. You know they’re close with—government,” she replied after a minute, shaking off the unease. “And I told John that I would.”

He snorted. “John says jump, you ask how high?”

“No,” she bit out, “I say jump and you kiss the fucking ground I’m standing on because I cobbled together what the fuck is left of your congregation.” Before Jacob could say anything, Isolde added, “My hands are full, Jake. Do not add to my pile.”

Dark brows furrowed, his mouth thinning in disdain. He clearly wanted to say something. But true to his nature, Jacob straightened back and settled himself before he said, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” he reiterated with his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to the Veteran’s Center.”

“That doesn’t sound like where we heard about the killings happening last,” Isolde protested, eyes narrowing.

“But she was there,” he replied. “Or someone was. Someone was there enough to steal my files.”

“Your—” Isolde snapped her mouth shut, sucking her teeth as she glanced back at Joseph and Faith; haloed in the dim lighting of the chapel, she could see them looking back at Jacob and herself expectantly. She wondered how much they could hear, from there.

Turning her attention back to Jacob and pitching her voice down in volume, Isolde hissed, “I don’t think prioritizing files is the best move right now.”

“Thank you,” Jacob idled, “for your input.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have fun,” he added, opening the door and letting in a waft of biting, cold air, before gesturing to the Book of Joseph on the table that she’d had her nose stuck in. All the better to make Joseph’s sermons hit home harder, after all. “You know—with your light reading.”

Isolde narrowed her eyes, watching him trudge down the steps for just a second before she said, “Jacob—”

“Yes, Isolde?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t get shot.”

For a moment, he looked almost surprised at her words—but it was only a moment before he said, “Don’t worry, I’m taking Vidal. He makes a suitable meatshield.”

“God, he’s a talker.”

A tiny ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Jacob’s lips, before he said, “John and the deputy should be making their way here any day now.”

Isolde grimaced. “I was there for the phone call.”

“Are you going to leave?” Jacob pressed, expression stiffening again. “When he does?”

She paused, clearing her throat and shifting on her feet. I should, were the words that wanted to come out of her mouth. I should go. I only came down here because John wasn’t here. I should go, and get back to my life, and maybe get to my family and try to stay out of the crossfire and—

After a heartbeat, she said, “I don’t know.”

Jacob shrugged, as if to say, see? Told you, though to what he could be referring to, she had no idea; she only knew that she didn’t like the way he swung around and sauntered out of the chapel, leaving her alone in the tepid warmth with Joseph and Faith’s eyes on her in favor of the blistering cold outside. Snow had continued to dump throughout the day and night, and had only just let up recently; the members of Eden’s Gate—those who had survived the Family’s relentless assaults, and those that had been pulled from the bunkers—had been tirelessly shoving pathways, only to have their work tidily undone each night.

Fingers brushed the palm of her hand. Isolde startled; she glanced back just as fingers interlaced with hers to be met with sweet, bright eyes and Faith’s adoring attention planted on her.

“It means so much to me,” Faith murmured, “that you would help. Not just me, but all of us.”

Soli watched the blonde for a moment, trying to gauge. The physical closeness was not something she was accustomed to; carefully, she disentangled their fingers, skin prickling with unease. When she glanced up, Joseph’s eyes were on them, on Faith’s fingers falling from her hand but skimming the inside of her palm in a lingering touch of affection.

He was always doing that. Watching. Watching, and waiting, and pinning each movement and gesture and thought and word out perfectly like the wings of a butterfly, just the color he liked and just the shape.

“Don’t thank me,” Isolde replied, mustering a smile and brushing the hair from her face.

“It’s my job.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, Miss Honey, John!”

Wyatt’s cheerful voice broke through the late-afternoon chill; the sun setting early, people’s breath coming out in puffs of smoke. It all felt oddly normal, given the circumstances of the morning and the way she’d forgotten to call Sylvia once she got home, and that her friend had fished up a reason to come by the house and make sure she hadn’t—

Well.

Still, if there was any remnant of the morning in Sylvia’s heart, it didn’t show in her face, and it certainly didn’t show in Wyatt’s. Instead, both blondes beamed at her, radiant, the second she came out with fuzzy, fresh-from-the-blow-dryer hair and swaddled up to her chin in thick fabrics to fend off the cold.

And, truthfully, to hide the bump. John had reminded her of it, and even though the moment had been a...good one, it had also reminded her she hadn’t expressed this truth to Sylvia or Wyatt. As John closed the door behind her and jogged down the steps,

“Howdy,” Ell greeted, albeit a bit awkwardly thanks to her stuck-somewhere-nowhere-sort-of-accent. “You didn’t have to drive it back all the way out here, you know.”

“Sure we did.” Wyatt chirped. “Wouldn’t be very neighborly of us if we let it sit and the battery died out, now would it?”

“No,” John demurred after a moment even as Elliot’s cheeks went warm, “I suppose not.”

“You all recovered from this morning?” Via asked cheerfully, purposefully avoiding the actual question. Elliot shifted on her feet. John’s hand skimmed the small of her back, and even through the layers of fabric, it felt warm; she wondered if this was what it would have been like for them, had their life been normal. Had John been truthful with her from the get-go. Now, with everything laid out between them—the lies unearthed and only the brutal, unapologetic knowledge that they wanted each other, in one way or another—it felt like they might have been normal. Sometime, somewhere, someplace else.

It was still hard to swallow, all of it. The lies and the now-truths and the knowledge that she did, in fact, want.

“Oh, yeah,” Ell replied faintly. “Took a bath and...” She tried for a smile. “Decompressed.”

“That what smells so good?”

“Y’all get that tired from dress shoppin’?” Wyatt tsked, having pulled his coat out of the jeep and started to pull it on. He grinned at her and skillfully dodged a side-swipe from Sylvia; he had a good foot of height on her—and Elliot—so it wasn’t difficult. The siblings fussed for only a moment before Sylvia managed to fetch the Jeep’s keys from Wyatt’s coat pocket and held them out to Elliot, puffing.

She was in the middle of saying, “Your keys, madame,” when John’s head tilted and he muttered, “Now what is this?”, drawing her attention to the end of the drive. A police cruiser made its way slowly down the drive, carefully pulling up behind the Jeep.

Not beside it. Not further up toward the garage, not on the other side of the four of them chatting. Behind it. Blocked in.

Sheriff Pritchard stepped out, shuffling a little as he adjusted the black, fur-trimmed jacket on his shoulders and closed the driver side door. He’d come alone, which made Elliot certain he wasn’t here to arrest her—and what a ludicrous thought, that he might have considered it a possibility, because the mere mental image of Pritchard grabbing her arm and keeping his eyes in his head made a hysterical kind of laugh want to bubble out of her.

Not me, not me and not my baby, that thing inside of her said, lifting its hackles and baring its teeth when Pritchard began to saunter over. Not my baby.

“Afternoon, you two. And Wests,” Pritchard greeted as he drew closer. He’d earned himself a curious murmur from Sylvia. “Havin’ a little shindig out here, Miss Honeysett?” Elliot opened her mouth to respond, but he lifted his hands quickly in defense. “‘M sorry, forgot myself. Mrs. Seed.”

It caught her off-guard, sucked the air right out of her lungs. It was one thing to hear her mother say John is Elliot’s husband, to hear her say John is my son-in-law, but it was another entirely to hear herself referred to as Mrs. Seed. It had never, ever been that she was John’s wife, except out of his own mouth, but now—

John seemed eager to engage with Pritchard, because he said, “Something that you needed, sheriff?”

“Yes, actually. Believe it or not, I ain’t in the business of drivin’ out to the rich part of town just for shits and giggles,” Pritchard replied coolly. “Your mama home, Elli?”

“Probably resting,” Sylvia offered, smiling politely. “We just finished dress shoppin’ for her Christmas Party not but an hour ago.”

“Yeah,” Pritchard rumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Heard about your little trip to the boutique today.”

John asked irritably, “Do you need to smoke that right now?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. Her lashes fluttered, eyes desperate to close; the warmth that had flooded her face now felt like it verged on feverish, threatening to make her head swim again. This was bad. This was bad-bad, chop her hair off and run run run again bad, the kind of bad that made a girl change her name and burn her birth certificate and make sure that nobody would ever be able to find her again.

“I don’t,” she began, “think mama’s feeling up to visitors right now.”

Pritchard eyed her, taking a puff of his cigarette while completely glazing over John’s pointed question. “Imagine not. You know, you been a hot topic of conversation lately, Mrs. Seed. Gotten loads of questions about you. Lady from out of town, Federal Marshals. I don’t like folks sniffin’ around my town, you know, especially not the fuckin’ Feds, but it’s gotta make me wonder.” The smoke curled out from his nose, the smoke of a lazy, self-righteous dragon wafting around her.

“Sheriff,” John continued tightly, clearing his throat, “you’re going to need to put that out.”

“We’re outside, Mr. Seed. You ain’t ever seen someone smoke a cigarette outside?”

“Do you make a habit of smoking around pregnant women?” John snapped viciously, and oh, she thought, oh, I didn’t even think of that, because her brain was too busy kicking into overdrive and parse out the absolute confirmation that Federal Marshals were asking after her and strange women, too. Oh, I didn’t even think about the baby.

And then Sylvia said, eyes wide as saucers as she laughed, flustered, “Oh, John, that’s very kind of you, but I’m not—” and her eyes landed on Elliot, and she blinked rapidly.

Wyatt was looking at her, too. Big, big eyes, surely having not only learned that she and John were married but that she was also pregnant in the span of only a few minutes. At least, Elliot didn’t think Sylvia would have divulged that information, and if the shock he was clearly trying to cover up in his expression was any indication, that gut feeling was right.

No, she thought, no, this is not what I wanted. This is not what I wanted at all. It wasn’t his to tell, it wasn’t his to tell, it was mine, my choice, mine alone.

Her gaze snapped to Pritchard. She said, “It’s time for you to leave.”

Pritchard lifted his eyebrows. “That so? Well, good for me I ain’t here to talk to you, missy.”

“Get. Off. My. Property,” she bit out through her teeth. “Scarlet isn’t taking visitors, and I’ll cut the decay out of my own teeth before she makes anything close to the time of day for you.”

Now, his eyes narrowed and the cigarette sat between his fingers, still burning amber at the end. “Excuse me?”

“And tell the fucking Feds whatever you want,” she snapped, fingers curled tightly around the keys until the metal edges dug into the nooks and crannies of her hand. “But whatever you do, get the fuck out of my driveway, sheriff.”

Something flickered in the corner of her vision. John started, “Ell,” and his hand went to her shoulder, but she jerked back from him before he could make much more than a brush of contact.

“Don’t,” Elliot snapped at him, her voice wobbling and the tears—shameful tears—welling up and burning, “touch me.”

“Alright, okay,” Sylvia murmured, “Elliot and I are gonna go inside, and John can—”

“Ain’t here to talk to Mr. Seed,” Pritchard drawled venomously.

“If you’re asking questions about Elliot,” Sylvia replied calmly, taking Elliot’s hand with a firm squeeze, “I can imagine there is no better person to ask than her husband, don’t you think so, Sheriff?”

Pritchard’s eyes were squinted into poisonous little slits, and he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Mrs. Honeysett won’t be any type of cooperative if you get her up now,” Wyatt chimed in, eyes flickering nervously to Elliot—perhaps both because of the news and because of her outburst. But she didn’t have time to think much about it, because Sylvia was tugging her out of the cluster of folks, ginger and reassuring even as her brother plunged on, “I mean, sheriff, come on—you know how women can be when they’re gotten up too early, let alone they’ve been shoppin’ all day—”

And Pritchard said, “You want I should put my cigarette out now, Mr. Seed?” as Sylvia opened the door,

and John replied with a slick, charismatic kind of venom, “No reason to anymore, smoke to your heart’s content,”

and the door clicked shut behind her and Boomer scampered out from where he’d been snoozing under the dining table.

She had to leave.

She had to go.

She had to get out.

Federal Marshals and strange women asking after her, and now her only two friends in the whole fucking world—

(well, not entirely true, since we still have Pratt, isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, Elli?)

—had just seen her almost go fucking bananas on an officer of the law, had watched her demand he get the fuck out of her driveway for wanting to ask her mother about her, had seen her.

“Hey,” Sylvia said, “you’re alright.”

I’m not, she thought, dropping the keys into the crystal bowl by the door, smearing red against the glass. Her hand stung. She reached with the good, unmarked hand for Boomer absently. His cold, wet nose brushed against it, and he whined, feet tapping against the wood as he bumped her for her attention. I won’t go. I won’t fucking go. I won’t pay the price for what they did to me, what they made me into.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out abruptly, her voice coming out tight. “Sorry that I didn’t—um, tell you. About the—”

“It’s okay,” Sylvia told her quickly, “it’s alright, Elli, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Elli, she said, without knowing what the nickname meant. Elli, Sylvia said, it’s alright, and Joey, right now we need to leave, Elli, and Pratt, geez, Elli, slow down, an affectionate nickname saved only for folks who considered her their friend. Sans Pritchard. Fuck Pritchard.

“Lots of people wait to tell,” Via continued, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder and jarring her out of her thoughts, which were quickly and rapidly devolving back into the urge to march outside and ensure Pritchard was obeying her command. Out out out, something vicious inside of her demanded, we want him out we want him gone.

Elliot said, “Yeah, you’re right,” but she felt far away—not lost, not gone from herself, but thinking. She could pack fast. She could pack fast, and John had brought barely anything, and they could leave right now, her mother none the wiser. They could leave now and be gone and Cameron Burke would have to—

But are we sure it’s Burke? Are we sure it’s Burke and not someone else, come to haul your ass to a fucking psych ward, for what you did in Hope County?

For what you did?

No. She wasn’t sure. She could only hope it was one singular Federal Marshall on her tail, and not an actual piece of the government body. That was all.

But whoever it was that was asking after her—strangers, government officials—it didn’t matter. That old mantra had kicked in again; something has to be done, the same kind of calm before the storm that she’d felt when Joey had been killed, something has to be done.

Something has to be done and I’m going to have to be the one to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pritchard dropped the cigarette into the snow and stamped it out with his bootheel, his eyes fixed on John. Sylvia had rushed Elliot inside, but he didn’t think that had been purely necessary—only in the instance they had wanted to keep Pritchard out of a blood bath. Elliot hadn’t been checking out, trying to keep herself together; she had been angry, and he’d had half a mind to let her say and do exactly as she pleased to the man now standing in front of him in the cold.

“She always been that volatile, Mr. Seed?” the sheriff asked.

“Not undeservingly,” John replied tartly, his eyes narrowed. “Did you have specific questions, sheriff, or did you just come by to terrorize my pregnant wife with your theoretical judgment of her soul?”

“More your speed?” Pritchard replied, lifting a brow.

“Pardon?”

“Heard about you Seed boys,” he continued coolly, “and your...” He gestured with a calloused hand vaguely, looking for the right word.

John smiled, with teeth. “Before I grow old, if you don’t mind, sheriff.”

“Proclivities,” Pritchard elaborated, “for religion.”

Fucking Burke, he thought, with no absence of venom; fucking Burke can’t resist the urge to try and fuck up my life when he’d be better off trying to find a place to hunker down for the end of the world.

“We’re red-blooded Americans,” John idled coolly, “freedom of religion goes hand in hand with that.”

“Mr. Pritchard, you wanna get that car started?” Wyatt cut in abruptly, glancing around like he thought maybe the rest of the patrol might be rolling in any minute. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve got any questions for Mr. Seed.”

“That’s sheriff to you, boy,” he snapped. And then, after a heartbeat, he fished his keys out of his pocket and said, “I s’pose I got all the information I needed, after all.”

“Mmhm.”

John had turned back to the house, spotting Elliot and Sylvia through the front window, when Pritchard announced, “You make sure Scarlet gives me a call when she’s recovered from your wife’s antics, Mr. Seed.”

His gaze returned to the sheriff, narrowed. “Certainly, Sheriff Pritchard.”

“But if I don’t hear from you, no worries,” the man continued, opening his car door, “I’ll make another special trip out here.”

“Goody.”

John flashed another grin when Pritchard’s eyes flickered over him. Wyatt said, “Have a safe drive,” and Pritchard slammed his door shut, his cruiser’s engine roaring to life before he began to slowly back out and make a u-turn to head down the long driveway again. There was a moment of silence, stretching between himself and Wyatt that he didn’t feel particularly inclined to break—after all, Wyatt had been taking liberties with Elliot that he shouldn’t have been—before the blonde finally broke the silence.

“Congrats,” Wyatt said after a minute. “About—uh, the baby, I mean. I didn’t know!”

Ah, he thought, feeling a strange little surge of pride at the way the man across from him shifted on his feet with discomfort, and that’s why Elliot’s mad I brought it up. Her friends didn’t know.

Well, it was better this way, after all. He wouldn’t have taken it back even if he’d gotten the chance, knowing what he did now.

“Thank you,” he replied amiably. “It’s certainly a blessing.”

Wyatt’s mouth twisted for a moment, looking like there was something he wanted to say specifically and didn’t know how to say it without foregoing social niceties, but the sound of the front door opening caught both of their attentions.

“Wyatt, you gonna stand out here like a lemming all afternoon or what?” Via called. “Get the car warmed up, you caveman.” She took a few steps down the front stairs and looked at John. “You’re wanted inside, Mr. Seed.”

A very polite way of telling him that Elliot, perhaps, was in the mood to throttle him with her bare hands. Though he didn’t really see the harm in spilling the news—perhaps with Via, sure, but Wyatt? The cowboy? Like that was ever going to be anything.

“Thanks for your help,” John said, clapping Wyatt on the shoulder before he made his way to the front steps. Via hadn’t moved. In fact, her normally polite expression was eerily cool—whatever amicable, feigned interest she had manicured for him in the past seemed to have evaporated in the wake of Elliot’s own fury.

As he neared, he said, “Something else you needed, Miss West?”

Via’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Wyatt, now inside the car, and then back to John. “You must think I’m mighty dumb, don’t you?”

John lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “If you think I instigated that little outburst on purpose—”

“What I think,” Via replied, “is that you know exactly what she’s capable of handling. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking of letting her physically assault a police officer.”

His easy-going expression flattened. Sylvia, and her seeing, the same kind of uncanny people-reading skills that Joseph had, too. Seeing his delight at knowing that Elliot would have taken on a man a foot taller than her, pregnant, if it meant keeping him away from the baby, if it meant keeping herself out of the grip of a greater power that wanted her in a psychiatric evaluation.

“I want to like you,” Via continued, taking the steps until she reached the bottom, “and I thought maybe you were here to make a real effort. But it seems like you’re the same person you were before, John Duncan.”

The name sent a jolt of red-hot anger flushing down his spine, filling him up suddenly with a sort of molten rage that only the reminder of his adoptive parents could have inspired in him. When Via went to move past him, he snatched her elbow, holding her in place.

“And where,” he ground out, “did you hear that name, Miss West?”

“It’s called a web browser, John,” Via replied coolly. “You ever heard of Google? Imagine how many John Seeds there are in Hope County, Montana. I don’t need to tell you that the articles regarding you and your brothers, though a bit old, are unflattering. And all I want you to know—” She paused, arm still in his grip. “—is that we’re aware of each other, and that I don’t want anything happening to Elliot.”

“Neither do I,” John replied tightly, “and I especially don’t want someone digging trenches where there’s not a war zone.”

Via regarded him with an even gaze for a moment, glancing back at the car where her brother sat, before she murmured idly, “Kindly take your hand off of my arm, John.”

“Ellliot’s already aware of the any of the information in those articles,” he continued lowly, “just so you know.”

“My point, John,” Via replied casually, “is that I know, and I can—and will—deal with it as I see fit. Now, you gonna take your fuckin’ hand off of my arm, or are we going to have a problem?”

He watched her for a moment—just long enough to consider the dopamine rush of killing her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and slamming her face into the top of the porch, doing something, anything to ensure that Sylvia West was not capable of messing up anything that he was doing—and then he planted a big smile on his face and dropped his hand from her arm.

“Careful,” he said, louder now so that Wyatt would hear, “it’s icy.”

The blonde didn’t respond. Instead, she brushed her hand absently where his had been, as though to brush herself free of his touch, and picked her way across the driveway and to the truck idling just on the other side of the jeep.

Well, that would be one less problem to deal with, in the end.

John made his way inside, closing the front door quietly behind himself and taking a moment to gauge. Just to see what was going on. The house itself was quiet, and Boomer’s little footfalls were nowhere to be heard, and Scarlet wasn’t sipping her vodka in the living room—so.

So.

So.

Taking a breath, he started up the stairs, turning into the hall to find Elliot’s bedroom door halfway ajar. He paused in the doorway; she was rifling through drawers, pulling sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and jeans and sweats out and dropping them into a duffel bag, furious little exhales occasionally coming out of her.

“I was told I was being summoned,” John said, Elliot’s attention razor-sharp and snapping to him immediately.

“Pack your shit,” she said briskly, “we’re leaving.”

He blinked. Taking a step inside, he glanced at Boomer—perched protectively between himself and Elliot—and said, “I thought we were waiting until after the Christmas party?”

“You’re not fucking deaf, John, you heard Pritchard,” she snapped. “The Feds have been asking about me. The only reason they don’t know exactly where to look—whoever it is—is because Pritchard’s a fucking asshole and likes to be as obstinate as possible.”

“And if we sprint out of here,” he replied, “you’re just going to draw their attention.”

“It’s what Pritchard wants.” Elliot zipped the duffel bag shut and then brushed past him into the bathroom, gathering up her toothbrush and toothpaste and the sleeping pills. “For me to be gone. He’ll piss off if I go. And there’s no way he’s going to put up a big fight to cozy up to the government.”

“Elliot.” John watched her furiously gathering things up, and then when she came by again he caught her with his hands. “Ell, just slow down—”

“Stop,” she bit out, “stop telling me what to fucking do, John, and—I told you not to touch me.”

He lifted his hands from her, but not far enough that she could duck past. “Are you that mad about Sylvia and Wyatt knowing you’re pregnant?” When she didn’t answer, and instead hauled the bag over from the other side of the bed to be close to her so that she could dump the collections from the bathroom into it, he sighed. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told them, but I don’t understand what all of the secrecy is about. The baby isn’t—”

“I felt normal!” Elliot replied sharply, her voice pitching a little higher now, and John heard the wet wobble in it too—the way the timbre of her voice thickened and rounded out with the threat of oncoming tears, her cheeks flushed with anger and maybe shame and pain, too. “Okay? I felt—I f-fucking felt normal, for once, and it was enough that Sylvia knew you and I had been—that we’re married, which I don’t even want to dig into right now, but it was another to be like—yes, the father of my fucking child, who I’m actually married to even though I didn’t want it, is here and oh, by the way? He’s part of a cult. Yeah, a fucking doomsday cult. I’m carrying the child of a doomsday cultist.”

“How was I supposed to know?” he demanded. “How was I supposed to know that you didn’t want Sylvia and her brother knowing you were pregnant? You never said. And what does it matter?” And then, feeling the petulance well up inside of him: “I know it probably felt nice, to have Wyatt giving you attention—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re really pulling that now? So, what—you dumped the news because you wanted to make sure my friend found me as off-limited as possible?”

John crossed his arms over his chest. “I know this may come as a shock to you,” he said, feeling the tension peeling apart behind his eyelids, “I really didn’t want Pritchard smoking near my baby.”

“My baby.” Elliot jammed her finger into his chest, just above his heart, her words vicious. “It’s our baby, or it’s my baby, but there isn’t a single fucking universe where the only person this baby is beholden to is you.”

“He’s,” John corrected, tartly. “He’s our baby. And at the end of the day, whether you like it or not—”

“Have you ever,” she cut in over him, biting the words out between her teeth, “done anything for me that wasn’t for you too?”

Watching her, the words sat sticky in his chest. His instinct was to say, of course I have, but that wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to pretend like it was, either—because he wasn’t ashamed that everything he had done had been for them, that if Elliot wasn’t his then there would be no point in it, that it was a zero sum game where he either had her or he had nothing.

He said, evenly, “No.”

Elliot looked unseated by his honesty. She swept her fingers across her forehead tiredly and turned back to her bag. “Then do me a favor and pack your shit so we can go.”

John sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“John,” she bit out, “I am making an executive decision.”

“Alright, Ell.”

“And—”

John had turned to the door to go gather what few of his belongings he’d had when Elliot cut herself off, drawing his eyes over his shoulder to her again. She looked unwell—stressed, feverish, her hands buried into the duffel bag maybe to hide the shaking and her face flushed and her brows furrowed together.

“Thank you,” she managed out after a minute, “for being honest. For once.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pratt brushed the snow from his hair, teeth chattering as he waded through knee-deep snow out towards the water. It had been three days, and Helmi had told him to meet her out there—how she was going to get past the compound’s security, Pratt didn’t know, but he also thought it probably was best not to dwell on the things that Helmi would do (and could do) to get where she needed to be.

Which is why he found himself less and less surprised to find her standing at the edge of the water, in the middle of the night, swathed up to her jaw in dark, heavy fabrics. The only part of her that wasn’t covered were her hands; the closer he got, he could see she was turning a smooth, dark rock over and over in her hands, passing it between them as she watched him come nearer.

“You remembered,” was how she greeted him, most of her face cast in shadow thanks to the high position of the moon behind her. Pratt shivered and jammed his hands into his coat pockets.

“Yeah, well, kinda hard to forget,” he replied. “Considering it’s been looming over me for the last few days.”

“Poor thing,” Helmi agreed, not sounding sympathetic at all. “Did you call her?”

Pratt paused, clearing his throat. There was something that didn’t quite sit right with him, knowing that he had called Elliot not out of a cry for her help—not really, anyway—but because this other cult wanted her. This cult, which had tore its way through Hope County splitting and gutting its residents, wanted her. And Helmi didn’t seem keen on telling him why.

“I did. They just got word that she and John are on the road now,” he said after a moment. “What, uh—do you want her for, anyway?”

Helmi quirked a brow at him, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before making the phone call, if it was going to bother you?”

A little lick of shame and embarrassment crawled red-hot into his cheeks, and he scoffed, turning his face away. “Well, you said you wanted her alive. Can’t say the same for the Seeds.”

“She’s carrying John’s child,” Helmi pointed out. “You think they’d kill her still?”

Pratt grimaced. It was still hard to stomach—the idea that Elliot was with John. Or had been, at one point. It didn’t sound like things were going great, and he could only imagine why. Still—

Still, he thought there was a lesser of the two evils, and Helmi sounded like it. Maybe not the others, but Helmi.

“They don’t have a problem killing babies,” Pratt replied after a minute. “What are you going to do, once she gets here? They won’t let her leave, and they definitely won’t let you in.”

Now, the blonde grinned—pearly teeth in the dark of the night, surprisingly satisfied with herself. “Big one’s pissed at me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Well, you know, Faith too. You've been killing her angels.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a plan. You know exactly as much as you need to know right now. Are you eating?”

The question came so quickly that Pratt didn’t have time to register the oddness of it, replying on automatic the same way he had been with Arden’s consistent, gentle pestering: “Yeah, I mean—don’t have much of an appetite, but...”

His voice trailed off and he glanced back at the woman. Her head was cocked and her eyes were fixed on him expectantly. “What?”

“Eat,” she told him. “Take advantage of as much as you can. And most of all, listen. Any information you can get will be helpful.”

Pratt’s throat felt a little tight. He kept thinking about the way Jacob had grabbed his shoulder, laughing when he’d insulted the woman doing the heavy lifting for Joseph—grinning like a fucking wolf, like he was going to be dinner, next.

He managed out, “He’ll kill me. If he suspects. He’ll take—everything, from me.”

Helmi planted a hand on his shoulder. The gesture made him want to flinch, but he bit back the urge, and he thought maybe she’d seen but didn’t say.

“He already took everything from you,” she replied lightly, “and do you know what that means?”

The dark of her gaze was intense, piercing even in the late night; it made it hard to look away. Voices echoed back in the compound, and briefly, he thought maybe they’d noticed his absence—but he only shook his head.

“It means you have nothing to lose,” Helmi murmured, “and everything to take back from him.” Her hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping up to his pulsepoint pensively. “See? Your heart is beating, and hard. Your blood knows it’s what you want, even if you don’t yet.”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head once. Nothing to lose, and everything to take back. Could he? Could he get things back? Is that what Helmi had done? What Elliot had done?

“And don’t fuck it up,” she added, dropping her hand from his neck and zipping her coat up. Leaving so soon. She grinned. “Or I’ll gut you myself. And I guarantee, it won’t be an Återfödelse.”

A nervous, almost hysterical little laugh bubbled up out of him. Helmi shot him a look and then brushed past him, heading back into where the brush became the thickest, calling over her shoulder, “See you in a few days, Staci Pratt.”

A few days. A few days, Elliot would be back, and John Seed would be back, and Helmi would be seeing him. Seeing them. Maybe it would be better to make a break with Elliot, once she got in—but what if she didn’t want to? What if she was one of them?

Pratt let out a puff of hot breath, digging the heel of his palm into his eyesocket while the pain bloomed just there, turning and beginning to trudge back to the compound before anyone noticed his absence. Each scrape and puff of snow fell in line with his heartbeat, the mantra on and off again.

Nothing to lose.

Everything to take back.

[raschuuuu]

WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME BACK? // M.YG angst (Suga)

Summary: You finally had your debut with your girl group with Big Hit entertainment. That was your absolute biggest dream but what happens when you have to decide now? Do you want to live your idol life and let the love of your life go for it? Or do you decide for the life of your life?

Word count: 5k

Genre: angst

warnings: established relationship / swearing / soft yoongi / mentioning of breakups / mentioning of suicide/death

Pairing: Yoongi!idol x female idol!reader

A/N: Hello guuuuys! Today I hope very much that you will like this one here! I didn't get any requests so I want to say it again one more time: FEEL FREE TO SEND ME YOUR REQUESTS!!! 😟🥺It’s my second fanfic on this blog I worked very hard on it so I really really hope you guys will enjoy it. If you guys think I could do anything better or you have another preferences please let me know. I’d be very happy if you guys leave a like so I know you read it and liked it. Another note: English is not my first language I’m very sorry if you guys find any mistakes.. 💔

_____________________________________________________________________________

5th December 2020

What could be better than having a debut just before the year ends? My group and I were supposed to have our debut much earlier but that was  postponed due to the COVID pandemic so it was complicated to have a debut this year but nevertheless our company managed to give us a debut before the year ends and I really have to say it's the best thing that could ever happen to me!

My dream has finally come true. How long was I a trainee? Exactly. Six years. Six freaking years I was hidden behind the scenes of my big and famous company. It feels really shitty to be in the shadow of two famous groups in South Korea. Don't get me wrong I'm a really big fan of BTS and TXT but we got tired of being told that we're going to make our debut but at the end we didn’t. I know the guys from BTS and TXT  personally and we all get along super well even the other members of my group. But to be honest BTS and TXT couldn't wait for our debut to happen and finally it's here (y/g/n) finally gets the recognition.

31st December 2020

Of course our lives have changed dramatically since we made our debut. Of course it's much harder to go out alone now than before. Before I was a nobody. No one knew me but now I don't even dare to go alone to the convenient store that is just around the corner of our dorm. You might think I'm exaggerating a bit but no, unfortunately it's the truth. Nevertheless, I don't want to spoil my idol life. After our debut we had a lot of promotions and interviews. But even before that we didn't have much time because we had to shoot our music video and photo shoots and we were all sent to the hairdresser because our old look was officially bye bye. I’m happy with my new look I think I look so beautiful I can't believe what a haircut and a nice makeup can do to a person.

Today is the 31st of December. New Year's Eve! New year takes place in less than 24 hours! Where am I? I'm at this year's MBC Gayo DaeJeon. My first new year's eve without my family and officially my first new year's eve as an idol. I'm so excited I can't believe it I'm going to be on stage with my girls and I'm meeting other idols how exciting is that. I'm sitting in the makeup room getting my makeup done by our makeup artist and on the side our hairstylist is making me a high ponytail. I hope I'll look good. Dabi, the oldest of our group and therefore our Unni, has just finished and looks adorable. Miso sits to my left and is also getting her make-up and hair done. Hyemi is getting ready after me because she doesn't take up much time. She has the shortest hair of all of us. I’m sitting with my mobile phone in my hand and texting with my mother. Sometimes I wish I could be with her and with my father and my siblings. I miss them all like hell. I haven't seen them since before our debut. I can't wait to hold them all in my arms next time.

(eomma):

y/n we miss you! New year's eve isn't the same without you but hopefully you'll have fun on stage today. We'll all be watching you! Your dad and I your grandparents and your siblings so don't worry we're always with you! Good luck my child fighting! 🎉🎆

I notice how i get tears in my eyes but no I mustn't cry my makeup gets ruined. Just as I want to answer my mother i get a new text on my phone.

(yoongi):

I'm excited to see you tonight! You'll be great I believe in you.

By the way... I guess I didn't tell you that I'm dating Min Yoongi. That's right, Min Yoongi.

flashback

2014

"Y/n! We're about to meet BTS!" says Hyemi as I just walked into the dance practice room. What BTS? The group that made their debut last year? "Really why?" I ask looking at her confused. Apparently all new trainee male or female, are introduced to BTS because they want to give us some nice words and encouragement on our way as trainees. Just as I was about to sit down, the seven men came in the door. One after the other, they passed us by. Wow, these guys can count themselves lucky that their time is up. But one boy in particular stands out to me. He has red hair. Not too light and not too dark, a red that almost goes brown. He is beautiful.

I haven't really informed myself about who BTS is, of course I still have difficulties to remember their names, I just became a trainee before I didn't care who was a trainee here... but this man is beautiful!

Oh crap he looks at me. Why is he looking at me. Someone tell him to look the other way please I’m so awkward I don't know how to act when someone looks at me I better look the other way. The leader said some nice words to us they all wished us luck and said that they can't wait for us to make our debut and that when the day comes they're all gonna be happy and supportive! Really nice of them I never thought that they would do something like that. We all got up and bowed and said thank you, while BTS was about to walk out I saw the red haired boy looking at me one last time before he went out. Crazy man do I have something on my face stop staring!

2015

I started to get to know them better each and every one of them. I get along best with Hoseok and Taehyung. Every now and then we run into each other in the building and talk for a few minutes. We trainees also got to meet all the guys in person, they are all so nice and down to earth I don't regret it one bit that I joined this company! Jungkook is about my age and every now and then we have a few laughs together. Once you are in the company you are like one big family whether it is with the trainees or the staff. However I have not been able to get close to one person and that is Min Yoongi. I don't know what it is but every time he and I are in a room with other people it just gets awkward. I don't know what it is but every time he is near me I feel intimidated and just want to get out of there. We've never spoken a word to be honest maybe it's because he feels awkward around me too? I can't understand why he feels this way I always try to get along with everyone even if i don't want to and make everyone feel comfortable around me because I want it to be mutual. So what's his problem?

2016

I have heard from his members that he has a crush on me and gets shy around me which I totally don't understand because how can anyone be into me? Especially back then! I don't want to go into too much detail but I can tell you that after a while and with the help of Hoseok and Taehyung he and I started texting at some point. We had been friends for a long time but only online. We were both too nervous to meet in person and to be honest that had been impossible because he was busy as fuck and no one was supposed to find out that we were texting. BTS recognition grew more and more each year and he became busier and busier each day. I was of course very happy for everyone and one rainy day in the evening Yoongi appeared out of nowhere on my doorstep and confessed his love to me. I am still overwhelmed by it and it all feels so unreal and like it just happened yesterday, but I went for it and agreed to be his girlfriend.

back to December 31st 2020

For four years we have been hiding our relationship. Nobody knows about it the whole Big Hit staff doesn't know about it and neither do our managers the only ones who know about it are his members and recently my members. I didn't want to tell them until we made our debut together because I was too scared of being told off during my trainee time. But I have to say that the girls stand behind me and accept our relationship and they all swore they would take it to the grave with them.

I quickly turn down the brightness of my screen because there's too much danger of my hairstylist and makeup artist reading the text. I close my phone and put it on my lap. How much I want to answer him but I don't dare I can't answer him when there are too many people around me. After a while we were called and it was finally our turn I'm so nervous but we managed it all with flying colors and we were the topic of the evening.

In a few minutes it's already new year I'm ready and let 2021 come to me. At midnight Yoongi calls me and I answer the phone with joy.

"Happy new year y/n! I love you and I hope we will spend more time together this year even though it will be harder now." I smile to myself and say "Happy new year Yoongi... how is your shoulder? Are you resting enough? Are you eating enough? Are you sleeping enough? Are you in pain? If you are in pain then take a painkiller and go back to the doctor!" I can't see it but I can tell he is grinning and shaking his head. I don't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Don't worry I’m fine I just miss you you're the only painkiller I can take" - "Hahaha yah! You're so corny! I miss you too sweetheart I wish we had spent this new year together... I’m sorry it turned out like this!" I feel really bad because I know he won't be able to spend new year with his boys or me... To be honest we have never had a new year together except on the phone but this time it could have worked out! He is at home with his injury and if we wouldn't have had our debut then we would have had a first new year together after four years of relationship!

January 10th 2021

At the beginning of the new year our manager gave us our schedule plan at it looked hella busy! This whole January we would be completely busy we don't even have one weekend off! I can’t believe it how will I able to see my family or even Yoongi? I saw him at the first weekend of January we spent it together at his family’s house in Daegu behause to be honest that is actually the only place that we can go to a little far away from Seoul without having to worry that any of the staff could know or see us. My family also knows and loves him to death but with my family living in Seoul it’s complicated to take him there. Our manager left the room and I looked at Dabi with the ‘You and I bathroom NOW!’ look she understood and got up from her place and she followed me to the bathroom. We checked if any other person was inside when there wasn’t I said “What the fuck I’m I gonna do now Unni? How am I able to see Yoongi? How will I be able to even go out. I won’t even have time to take the fucking trash out from our dorm when it’s my turn to clean!” I yell. She stands there giving me a confused look. “What do you expect y/n? You chose to have this idol life you know its busy and complicated to have a boyfriend especially as a fresh debuted idol! Why do you think they won't let us have a relationship? I wish I could help you but I can’t. We’re gonna be busy as fuck!” she yelled back. “Psh shut your volume down unni!” she opened the door to see if there was anyone outside but there wasn’t.

I feel bad I really do. I don't want my members to be in trouble because of me that's the last thing I want. I hug her and apologize to her. I have to think of something I don't know what to do. I don't want us to be away from each other for too long what happens when he stops loving me all of a sudden? What do I do when he goes back to work then it will all be worse! Before I became an idol we could always see each other at the end of the day but now it will be impossible. I have to talk to him about it because one thing we promised each other is that we talk about everything because that's the only way a healthy relationship can work and such a complicated relationship we both have. I take out my phone and write him a message.

(me):

Yoongi. Tonight FaceTime date you and me?

In less than two minutes I already get my answer.

(yoongi):

of course!

evening

I turn on my MacBook and call him on FaceTime. After three rings he answers the phone and turns it off too so he doesn't have to hold it in his hand. He still has his bandage on and his hair is wet he must have been in the shower. He wears cute pyjamas and fight me or not but black haired Yoongi is the most beautiful Yoongi. I always fall in love again when I see him. Hard to believe we were so awkward with each other back then but this year is already approaching 5 years together. I could never imagine my life without him. 

"Hey my darling" he says happily and smiles at me. I smile back and ask him how he is. He tells me that he is getting better every day and that during his time off he has found a lot of time for himself and his music and how much he misses the others. And me too, of course. "What's wrong with you?" he asks me when he notices that my mind is somewhere else. I think he took the Facetime date too seriously. He be sitting there with his cup of ramen. I just laugh. "Yoongi... I'm going to be busy all of January and manager oppa said that February might not be any better," I say and wait for his answer. He swallows his noodles and drinks a glass of water. "Does that mean we won't see each other this month?" he asks. I think he's a little disappointed I know him and I know his tones and his looks and I can hear my heart breaking by now. And how much I'd like to see you Yoongi. Every second every day. "No," I say, and then an uncomfortable silence descends. 

“You know what baby it’s fine don't worry. I mean I wasn’t any better back then do you remember when I always used to be so busy? I never had time for you and I felt so bad. But you were there for me and you stayed by my side and you were and still are the most supportive girlfriend I could ever ask for. I think it would be unfair to be mad at you. I’m happy for you forever and always” well that was unexpected. I start getting tears in my eyes. I didn't think of this reaction not at all! I smile at him and say “Thank you baby... I will appreciate it I really do. But still I feel bad because especially in this period where you're sick I wish I could be there for you and take care of you. This debut was so unexpected I’m really sorry” - “Yah don't be sorry y/n. You worked your goddamn fine ass off to be where you're at right now be proud of you this is just the beginning. And it’s not like that we won't see each other ever again right?” he says. He’s right. He’s totally right. It’s not like we won't see each other ever again.

January 17th 2020

Well... seven days passed and we still haven't seen each other and we haven't talked since one week. We text every now and then cause I really only get to use my phone when it's night and we go back home but every night I'm so damn exhausted and tired that I forget to answer to his texts. I don't even have time to text my parents back or my siblings. I feel so bad I'm such a bad person. I miss them all so much. I miss my parents. I miss my sister and my brother. I miss my grandparents. I miss my boyfriend. I miss my boyfriend so damn much. I really didn't think this life is gonna be so hard for me. I feel like I've been put in the middle of a scale with my career on one side and my relationship on the other side and I have to choose one side or the other. I've never thought about breaking up with Yoongi ever in my life. Never. I just can't. I need this man too much. Even though we never have the most beautiful and perfect relationship and see each other very rarely, it's just the thought that I know there's someone in my life who loves me and accepts me for who I am that counts. He took me with my imperfections he put his career what he loves most in his life in risk to be with me and now that we are both in this situation I don't know what to do I feel bad and selfish for even thinking about it I don't want to make him feel like my career is more important than him or our relationship he doesn't deserve that he deserves the world and he deserves to be happy. But I love my career I love my job I love my members I love our staff I love our fans. Our biggest fear was not being accepted by the society outside especially now in this period when BTS is one of the biggest groups in the whole world and have a very big influence in the KPOP industry. We were afraid that society would think that since we are the first girl group to make a Big Hit debut in a very long time that people would think that we would mess with the boys heads or that there would be any rumors started between us and the other groups. But on the contrary people have been happy for us and love our music and us individually. I feel like Hannah Montana I feel like I am living a double life.

20th January 2021

"I know you are overwhelmed with the situation my child, I can imagine that it is very hard for you but you have to know what is best for you. You can't tell anyone from your company, you are a rookie, if they find out you had a boyfriend during your trainee time then it is even worse. I wish I was with you and could help you or just be there for you. I love Yoongi very much but I love you even more and I am happy with any decision you make. Just make the right one" my mother says on the phone. Tears have been flowing since she got on the phone but I don't want to tell her and I try not to sob but I know she can tell by my tone that I am crying. She is right. I have to make a decision. Yoongi is getting better day by day and soon he will be busy too he will go back to his daily routine and the other members. He will have comebacks he will have dance practices he will have to go to the recording studio he will have photo shoots he will do interviews and when the corona situation allows he will have to go to other countries and I have to do the same.

I love him to death and I will never love anyone as much as I love him but I am just not happy like this and you can tell me what you want he is not either but he doesn't let it show. Yesterday on the phone there was such an awkward tension between us it felt like I was making small talk with a stranger. Even though I might be the bad guy but one of us has to make the first move. I have wished and hoped that this day will never come but I have to do it.

23 January 2021

Yoongi told me that he is back in his flat in Seoul with his mother. Unfortunately he still can't travel alone so his dear mum went with him. I missed her too, she's the nicest and sweetest woman ever. When I imagine that I won't see her again either, tears well up in my eyes. But today I have to do it. Who would have thought that our reunion would be like this? Who would have thought that I would break up with him. He won't expect it but I have to do it. I’m cold and sick and I just want to go to bed and get the day over with. It's 11pm at night and we've come home after a long hard day. I look out the window and wait until our manager is out of sight.

My members know about my plans and of course have asked me a million times if I am sure and if there is no other way out. I am very happy that they are worried about me but I also feel bad towards them. I have been hiding it from them all our trainee years and when I told them they were all so good about it and even want me not to do it. But no I will do it I am young and want to concentrate on my career and what is coming up for us.

I told Yoongi that I would come, of course he doesn't want to because it's way too late but I said it was important and that we had to talk about something. When I said we had to talk about something he was quiet and then just said he would wait for me. I put on a hat and a thick jacket and the hood of the jacket and a mask and a scarf and go out into the high snow that has covered Seoul. His flat is not far from mine but still I have to take a taxi. I ask the driver to wait for me because I don't want to stay there long I want to get it over with quickly and go.

(me):

can you come down?

(yoongi):

why don't you come up?

(me):

I think its better when you come down Yoongi I don't want your mom to be worried or hears any of that were gonna talk.

He doesn't text back instead I just see the lights turning on from his window. A few minutes later he comes down. Oh my fucking lord he is so handsome. I want to run up to him and kiss him from head to toe. I want to be in his arms. I want us to go upstairs together and fall asleep together. I want to build a snowman with him. I want to be with him forever I love him he is the love of my life.

He comes up to me and smiles at me. He stands in front of me and we both don't say a word. His smile turns into a confused look he notices something is wrong. "Don't I get a kiss or a hug?" he asks me. My heart breaks into a thousand pieces. I would love to rip your clothes off Min Yoongi.

"I want to break up." Silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. "Yoongi say something?" I ask him. He says nothing. He looks at me with a blank look he is sad he is disappointed he is devastated just like me. "Yoongi please?". He does not speak.

"Yoongi, I'm sorry. I-i-I really love you I love you more than anything but I know that I can't give 100% in our relationship now. I just want us to be happy but I see that we are not. It could have been great during your time off but I can't be there for you... sooner or later it should have happened. I want to be with you but I can't anymore it was okay then but it's not okay now we're both famous you're in the biggest boy group in the world if anyone finds out we're together we'll be screwed. Especially me Yoongi. Female idols have it harder than male idols you know that. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I think this will be the best thing for us I-" he interrupts me.

"How dare you to tell me what's best for me? Do you have any idea what you're talking about y/n? Stop trying to tell me what's best for me when you know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me in my life god damn. I was going through a difficult time in my life and you were the only one who was there for me! And now you're telling me let’s break up because you're afraid people are gonna find out? And that they are gonna blame you? The fuck? Theres always two fucking persons in a relationship y/n! I also wanted that. I wanted you. Don’t you love me anymore? Why don’t you love me anymore? We hid our relationship for four fucking years why can't we hide it now?" he said yelling at me.

 I am shocked and sad I want to die. I don't want to live in this life without Min Yoongi. But I know it's best for us I do it for him and his career too.

"Yes I don't love you anymore" were my last words before I left.

________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: damn y/n!!! did you just break up with the mf min yoongi? you better save your relationship! guys if you want a part two (with maybe a happy ending?) let me know! love you bye 🎀

[stevesharrlngtons]

32 with Roman

prompts are open 

an anon requested some roman angst a lil while back, and while this isn’t super angsty it kinda is? lol

also i changed the wording a bit i hope thats ok

Of course he was here, you really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Roman had a tendency to worm his way back into your life, physically or mentally, one way or another. It’s like he knew when you were finally moving on, when you had finally pushed him from your consciousness, and decided that that was unacceptable. 

You let out a heavy sigh as you watched him enter the house party, a perky blonde slung comfortably under his arm. The mummers had started then, people whispering and peeking over at him and his date. Just because this party was outside Hemlock Grove city limits didn’t mean that Roman’s name didn’t have any lore or pull to it. You were sure everyone in the state, hell maybe the country, would stop what they were doing to follow him through a room. He had an incredibly commanding presence, something that you once loved, but now just resented. 

“Is that Roman Godfrey?” the guy you had been chatting up asked. 

He was good looking, this random man. Charming, always willing to refill your cup or dance when a song you liked came on. He laughed at your jokes and kept his eyes from wandering to any of the other girls that were in attendance, which was silly, but something you appreciated. You’d only met him a couple of hours ago, so any singular devotion he had to you was quite flattering. You were seriously considering taking his hand and asking him to join you in a room upstairs until Roman showed up and decided to steal his attention from you. This guy, this stupid guy who was the only guy in the party who you’d been attracted to even in the slightest, of course he would have a hard on for Roman and his family name. 

“Who?” you asked with resentment, drinking more of the swilly beer in your cup. 

“Who? Roman Godfrey? His family owns half the state! He’s like, a billionaire. How in the hell do you not know who he is?” he talks like an animated puppy about Roman, you can see as his eyes follow the taller man everywhere he goes in the room. 

You refused to look at Roman yourself, you just stared up at your date (if you could even call him that). You focused on the bumping music as he continued to gush about Godfrey Industries and Roman’s family money. God, you bet this guy talked about Elon Musk like this too… and suddenly you felt so repulsed by him that your skin crawled at the thought of him touching you. 

“You know what?” you cut him off from his rant, “I’m going to go out for a cigarette.” 

“Oh, OK. Want me to come?” He asked.

“No, not particularly.” And you were sure he was scowling after you and calling you a bitch, but you didn’t care. You needed to get away from him, his Roman complex, and all other Roman related things. 

You pushed your way through the throngs of people in the house to the back sliding door, where you exited to the pleasant gust of chilled air. It was a welcomed contrast on your skin after simmering inside with all it’s muggy body heat. 

The house that was throwing the party was really nice, nicer than any house you’d be able to afford. There was a large inground pool, complete with water features and a conjoined hot tub; an outdoor kitchen with a pizza oven and fully stocked fridge; and some of the most beautiful landscaping you’d ever seen. It made you wonder who actually lived here. One of your coworkers had invited you along, and you had only shown up to have something to do on a Friday night. You saw her for around five minutes when you arrived, then you’d both disappeared into the sea of people. 

You went over to the kitchen and took a seat on one of the built in benches. It was carved into the brick next to the pizza oven, and even though the oven was off, you could still feel some heat emanating from it. You pulled your knees to your chest and settled against the brick, temple to the oven as you enjoyed the silence the night had to offer. You took out your phone from your jeans and began to app surf, switching between social medias to keep your mind busy. 

“Now, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here, all by her lonesome?” you could see the smarmy grin on his face without even looking up. 

A part of you had futilely hoped that escaping outside would have thrown Roman off your scent. You’d up and completely left parties when he had arrived in the past, so you hoped he would have assumed that was the case tonight. But then again if he had, he wouldn’t be Roman. Because he seemed to have a tracking device on you, always aware of your whereabouts. It used to be helpful, but now it just pissed you off. 

“You’re such a little stalker, you know that right?” you sneer, refusing to look up from your phone. 

“Pretty sure you’re the stalker, (Y/L/N). Somehow wherever I go,” He trails off as he came to sit next to you, far too close for comfort, “There you are.” 

“Whatever, Roman.” you reply, eyes still glued to your phone as you huddled closer to the oven. 

“What? No snarky retort? No adamant denial? Man, someone’s gone soft,” he chuckles. 

“Or maybe I’m just sick of this little game you’ve roped me into,” you bit back, and you could see in your periphery that his smile grew. 

“You love it.” 

“No, you love it. It’s why you never fucking leave me alone.” 

He scoffs, but doesn’t say anything else. There is a long beat of silence where the two of you just listen to each other's breaths, of the sound of the others clothing scraping against the brick and the sound of your deft fingers against your screen. 

It reminded you of when you were together, of when you had been the perky girl under his arm and the one enthralled by his presence. It reminded you of the late nights he’d shatter your body with pleasure and put you back together again. It reminded you of the times that he'd lay on your chest and murmur secrets and confessions with tears streaking his alabaster cheeks. It reminded you of the ever present smile he brought out in you. 

It reminded you of Roman’s refusal to admit any true feelings for you. It reminded you of tense silence after fights. It reminded you of how he broke your heart. 

“That guy you were talking to? Tried to shake my hand,” Roman chuckles, “Fucking freak.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I ditched him. He probably liked you more than you like you.” 

Roman snorts, “He was practically humping my leg.” 

“Yeah, well he was practically humping mine before you showed up. So thanks for that.” you said bitterly, finally pocketing your phone and looking out over the groomed backyard. 

“He wouldn’t have known what to do with a woman like you.” 

“I would have liked to figure that out on my own upstairs, thank you very much.” you cross your arms over your folded knees. 

“C’mon, that guy? I could smell his drug store cologne from a mile away, and that fucking geled hair? You chose that guy?” you could easily detect the envy in his voice.

“C’mon, that girl? With fake tits up to her chin and boxed dyed roots?” you shot back fast, and then immediately cursed yourself. 

Because you had just played into his game, the one you had been trying for the past few months to eject yourself from. 

“She’s hot, isn’t she?” he drawls, leaning back against the bench. 

“If you’re into that 80’s fake Sports Illustrated look.” 

“She fucks like she’s straight out of Hustler.” 

“Thanks for oversharing, Roman. Though that information feels a little more suited for Peter than me.” you said sarcastically, hoping with every passing second that he would get the hint and leave you alone. 

But he never did. Not tonight, not last time and you were sure he never would. 

“You used to love when I overshared. You said it made you feel closer to me,” he nudged you with his shoulder and you felt sick. 

Because yes, you had said that. You had loved when he told you everything. When he didn’t hold back on his thoughts and feelings, and told you things that were sometimes so ugly he’d retch. 

“You’re such a dick,” you swore, and finally stood to escape him.

“Oh, don’t be like that! Sit back down.” Roman reached out to take a hold of your wrist, but you flinched away at his touch. 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Sit back down and maybe I’ll think about it,” he laughs while trying to grab you again. 

“How long are you going to do this to me, Roman? How much longer are you going to torment me!” you snap.

You look down at him for the first time all night. You had been avoiding direct eye contact since he followed you outside, afraid of what those sinful green eyes could get you to do. You’d backslid with Roman one to many times because of those fucking eyes. 

“Torment you? That seems a bit rash,” he scoffs. 

“I don’t think it is, I actually think it lets you off too easy.” 

“Yeah?” he replies, fully condescending and pompous. 

“Yeah,” you clench your jaw, “because it’s like you’re haunting me, it's like you’re this looming force that will never let me move on. And for the life of me Roman, I can’t fucking figure out why. Is it just to torture me for leaving? Are you that much of a spoiled brat? That once the toy you didn’t want gets thrown out you through a tantrum until it’s back?” 

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you! I’m so sick of this, Roman. I’m sick of being at a party or a restaurant or a coffee shop and then having you appear out of thin air to remind me of how much it all just hurts. Do you even care? Do you even care that everytime I see you it takes off a year of my life from pure grief?” 

Because it did. Everytime you spotted him in line behind you, at a table across the room or drinking at a bar you were sat at, you felt awful. You felt so disgusting and used and dirty, because you let Roman take and take from you and when you asked for something in return he refused to give. 

“Am I not allowed to see a friend all of a sudden?” he asks, his tone becoming defensive and worried. 

“We’re not friends. We aren’t. I loved you and you spat in my face. I could never be friends with you again, Roman.”

Roman purses his lips and looks up at you under his brow before pushing up from the bench to stand, “You don’t love me anymore?” 

“It shouldn’t matter.” 

“It does. It does to me.” he steps closer to you with every word and you finally feel the effects of the alcohol you’d had earlier. 

“Well it doesn’t to me, and it shouldn’t to you either. It didn’t then.” 

It didn’t matter to him when he screamed and laughed in your face after your confession. 

Roman doesn’t respond, even though you can tell he wants to. He towers above you now, but you don’t cower under his height. 

You watch Roman chew on the inside of his cheek for a few moments before you know the conversation is over.

“I’m gonna go.” 

You turned back toward the house and started your trek across the grass. 

“Wait!” Roman suddenly called behind you. 

You didn’t want to turn, and maybe if you were stronger you would have kept walking. But you did and you weren’t. 

“What?” you ask with a frustrated sigh. 

“I do, y’know,” he says, his posture hunched and uncomfortable, “I mean, as much as I can feel that way about anyone.” 

“Love me?” you shot back, saying the words he was too cowardly too.

Roman looks around like he’s embarrassed, like he’s looking for any witnesses that might find out he has a heart. Then he nods gently. 

“As much as a person like me can. I don’t even know if I’m capable of... that’ing. To anyone.” 

You knew this is an incredibly vulnerable moment for Roman. You knew from experience that this was as close as he had ever been to uttering those sacreded three words, as close as he had ever felt to feeling them. You knew that this should give you some solace, some closure in your ongoing battle of emotions with the tall boy. You should feel better. But you don’t. 

Because it didn’t change the past, and only gave you worthless hope for some kind of future with the only man you’d ever loved.

“Ok.” was all you said in reply. 

And Roman just nods again, though it’s clear that wasn’t the response he was looking for. You almost expected him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just takes out a cigarette and lights it.

“I, uh, I’m still going to leave,” you say, rubbing your biceps awkwardly under Roman’s intense gaze, “I only really came here to get laid and that fell through, so…” 

“Well, I could fix that, y’know?” Roman smirks before taking a drag, and suddenly any semblance of a moment being had was.

“I’ll pass,” you say and bid him a silent goodbye. 

You walk across the grass, short and such a vibrant green, even in the winter. You wonder if Roman liked the landscaping and the pool and the kitchen like you did. You wondered if things were different, if you two would live in a house like this. You tried not to think too much about it, though.

When you were almost to the house, you heard Roman call out for you again. 

You simply looked over your shoulder to see him leaning against a brick pillar, cigarette between his plush pink lips.

“I’ll see you soon.” 

feedback is appreciated!! (:

[smuggsy]

heyo! If you feel like a prompt, I'll offer up one for the flyboys? How about, “Am I going to die?" pls <3

Thank you! I always feel like writing for these two! Two prompts in a day, wow, this is unheard of. I would feel accomplished except I should've been working on an essay for my medieval history class so I only feel guilty lmao.

Anyway. Here, have some pining idiots. Bit of angst sprinkled in but really this is just Collins biting off more than he can chew. You know I love putting him in these situations #sorrynotsorry.

Collins has always been the heavier drinker. He's more easy-going, always accepting pints from the younger lads and beating them at cards and joining in on their bets when dark clouds loom close to the ground and they're allowed to leave for the day.

It's usually Farrier keeping him in check, walking him back to base late at night and watching carefully from behind, giving him space but close enough to grab in case he trips over his feet after a good amount of beer has numbed his reflexes.

Collins naively assumes Farrier isn't a booze lover. Isn't that into alcohol in general; he never has more than two pints, not even when Collins refuses to indulge in it does Farrier let himself get too comfortable at the bar or at a table.

Never when Collins is with him, anyway. This is a thought that has just recently taken form, as in, about ten minutes ago when Collins caught up with the group at the local pub after returning from his daily rounds.

Today he walks into the crowded place brimming with pilots as a thunderstorm announces itself outside, and when he takes a seat next to his wingmate on the far-off corner from the door he finds Farrier doesn't look up to meet his gaze.

"Evening," Collins greets, but he's not sure he's heard him over the music and incessant chatting of their peers.

Even if he does, Farrier pays him no mind.

To say that Collins is instantly bugged by it is an understatement. Farrier stares down at something in his lap, he's hunched down and sports a permanent frown and the overall sight of him just looks wrong.

"Ey, alright?"

He realises, but only once Farrier snaps his head up, that his eyes are a bit too glassy, his breath smelling a bit too strong when he sighs in Collins' direction.

"What? Oh, hey."

Collins only sees the paper in a flash, before Farrier tucks it back into the inner pocket of his jacket. The quick motion clearly meant to keep it away from prying eyes is the only reason Collins doesn't ask. Yet.

"Having fun?" he says instead with a smile, trying to brush away the sudden heaviness of a conversation that hasn't even started, and he leans back on his own seat and surveys the table in front. He counts at least five empty pints close enough to Farrier's side.

"Fun," Farrier scoffs with a shake of his head.

Collins finds the irony dripping from the word so strong and uncharacteristic that he leans over and takes a chug or two of his own beer.

"Let them have fun," his mate continues, gesturing vaguely towards the youngest recruits fooling about on the dancefloor, "they don't know what's fucking coming."

At that, Collins can't help but stare.

He gently places his pint back on the table and doesn't tear his eyes away from Farrier, now stumbling out of his chair looking much drunker than he did just a second ago.

"M'gonna head back," he says, trying to walk past Collins who only manages to move his chair back once Farrier's already on the other side.

"It'll be pouring outside!"

Just then, a thunder rumbles low and menacing under the sweet voice of The Andrews Sisters coming off the gramophone. Farrier stops dead in his tracks for a moment and just when Collins thinks he's going to turn around and sit back down, he shrugs and walks away.

"Ah, s'only a bit of rain, innit..."

He only stops by the bar to pay for his round of drinks, pushing through one or two excited couples dancing away the night and apologizing to one of the gals for almost stepping on her foot.

Collins watches the whole exchange from his spot, a bit taken aback by Farrier so easily brushing him off.

He gives himself a few moments to feel hurt and then he stands up and pays for his own unfinished pint, only catching up to him as he rounds the corner and the first droplets of rain start announcing a hell of a storm.

"Yer gonna be wet straight through if ya walk back now!"

"Yeah," Farrier says over his shoulder, lighting a cigarette and sending a sour smile Collins' way, "I am."

His gaze seems only a bit clearer as he stares Collins down, giving him a once over and taking in the sight with an approving nod. It makes something in Collins' stomach turn.

In a good way.

"You go back though, get yourself a nice bird to dance with. Put in all that effort to walk me back like I'm your granny?"

With the dragging of his words and the cigarette he keeps firmly placed in between his lips, Collins almost doesn't understand him.

He lets out an emotionless laugh and starts walking again when Farrier does.

"What effort? I always look like this."

Farrier blows away the smoke and nods again.

"You do."

"Something happen?"

There it is. He asks.

Farrier almost halts, just almost. He looks like he's about to answer but then the cigarette is back in his mouth and he openly ignores his question for a whole minute. Collins gets the cue but he still doesn't turn back. He figures he can play chaperone tonight, like Farrier's done with him so many times before.

Except, he's always ranting on after his round of pints and his wingmate's not much of a talker. No way to fill in the awkward silence. Collins can't help himself.

"You got mail," he tries again, a statement, just a simple comment that doesn't mean any harm and it definitely doesn't mean to make Farrier turn around like that - like he's properly annoyed at him for asking. For caring.

"Just go back," Farrier bites out, harshly, "you just got 'ere. Go on, don't lemme spoil your night."

"You're not."

"Collins..."

"I'll go if you really want me to."

That makes Farrier look at him again, truly look at him like the words have taken a bit of the alcohol off his blood and sobered him up. He stares for a long moment and then starts walking again without a word. Failing to answer again but answering nonetheless.

The lamp-posts they walk past light up the heavier drops of rain as if warning them of what's to come. Collins' hair is still wet from the shower so he doesn't feel much of a difference.

"You're a good kid, Jackie," Farrier says after a while, hands in the pockets of his trousers and looking up to the moonless sky. When he does, he seems to lose a bit of balance that he quickly regains before Collins can actually grab his arm to steady him.

He reckons it's better he didn't get to, judging by Farrier's general snappiness tonight. Can't be completely sure his help would be welcomed. 

"What did you just call me?" he teases with a grin.

He sees a smile tug at Farrier's lips.

"A good kid."

Jackie.

"I'm twenty-fuckin'-five, thank you very much!"

At last, Farrier lets out a laugh. Collins feels like a heavy weight's been lifted off his shoulders.

"You're a fuckin' tease, s'what you are."

It's just as well that mother nature stops him as he intends to give an answer, because the words get stuck in his throat at the implication of that sentence.

The sky goes white for a split second, lightning flaring up above their heads before the cracking of thunder seems to switch on the merciless pouring rain once and for all. They're already far enough that they'd still end up drenched from head to toe even if they walked back to the pub.

"Shit, come on!"

Farrier starts running forward, where there's a couple of leafy pines by the road before the clearing starts the path back to the airbase: a very long and tree-deserted runway and training field.

In short, they're fucked.

Farrier beats him to the cover of the canopy and Collins thinks that perhaps he wasn't that drunk after all.

"Quicker in the air than on the ground, eh lad?"

"Want to race me, old man?"

"Nah, wouldn't want that spotless suit wrecked with mud."

Collins turns to answer and finds Farrier grinning at him playfully, looking him up and down again for the second time in twenty minutes - the spark in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed because he's never caught him staring so openly before. It makes his pulse quicken and turns his filter off.

"You really like me in my suit, dontcha?"

Farrier's next words sound fuelled by beer, as does that almost imperceptible lick of his lips.

"Why, of course I do."

He looks away to the curtain of falling rain in front of them, pooling down on the grass, and he shakes his head and talks so low that Collins almost doesn't hear him again.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"I'm drunk."

"Yeah, I know. Ye keep lookin' at me like ye want to eat me or somethin'."

Farrier snaps his head back to look at him, mouth half-open like a fish out of the water - like he can't quite believe what he's just heard, and Collins panics, thinks he's misread the situation completely (thinks that even if he didn't, he really shouldn't have called Farrier on it because, as his wingmate so bluntly put it, he is drunk). Thinks that's a very reckless and stupid thing to say and that he hasn't even downed half a pint of beer so he can't even use that as an excuse.

Collins stares back, for a moment he considers stepping away, jumping over that poodle increasing in size and running away in whichever opposite direction Farrier means to walk.

Try and pretend he didn't fuck this up royally.

"Well, would you want me to?" Farrier blurts out all of a sudden, openly staring at Collins' lips and neck and cheeks and hair now.

"What?"

"I said, would you want me to."

Another lightning. Farrier's face is so close that Collins can count the scattered freckles on his nose and cheeks where stray drops of rain slide down on his skin. He has very long eyelashes.

"Eat you or something."

The thunder following the light drowns out that pitiful noise that escapes Collins' throat. He feels drowsy like he's the one who spent hours sitting down at that table in the wet sweet air of the pub gulping down pint after pint.

Farrier is very, very drunk even if he doesn't look like it anymore.

He must be.

Collins wonders: if he answers truthfully, will Farrier remember it tomorrow?

"Yeah," his wingmate snickers, and after what feels like ages he takes the slightest step back and smiles that sour smile from before, fishing another cigarette out of his pack and putting it between his lips, "thought so. Pretty boy like you."

Pretty boy like– what the fuck's that supposed to mean?

"Answer me this, Collins. Am I going to die?"

And just like that, the conversation steers away from longing looks and unspoken words. Farrier's back to smoking that ciggy that's already wet and his hands return to his pockets and Collins feels he's just lost an opportunity that isn't going to arise again any time soon.

"What?" he repeats, like a broken record, refusing to let his own eyes derail from Farrier's face, refusing to look away to the falling of rain, the runway, the clearing, the town far away like Farrier himself is doing. Refusing to let the moment go.

"What are my chances? What are our chances?"

Collins shakes his head in frustration.

"Surviving this shit. Let me tell you: they're very thin. So it's better this way. I mean, it's me but– well it's just not worth it, is it? Forget it."

"Forget. Forget what? Tom, the fuck are you on about? Is this about that letter?"

"Fuck that letter."

He tosses the cigarette to the ground.

There's no remorse in the words, no hatred despite Farrier turning back to him and suddenly standing up straight, shoulders broad, gaze unwavering and challenging. Collins is still a bit taller but that doesn't mean he feels taller.

"I– sorry I– didn't mean to–"

"My fiancée," Farrier cuts him off, cocking his head and studying Collins' reaction for a moment before continuing, "got killed. A bombing over Portsmouth."

He drags the paper out and almost shoves it in Collins' face, who just stands there at a loss for words, again. Stammering like a broken record, again.

"I–," didn't know you were engaged, "–sorry, I'm sorry that happened."

He wants to kick himself for his lack of eloquence but it's the least of his concerns because he was just flirting with Farrier a moment ago, and Farrier was leading him on for some fucking reason – a fiancée?

That tends to mean one's attracted to women.

A dead fiancée.

"Sorry, Tom."

"Don't be."

Another lightning, another thunder, more heavy rain and Collins is already starting to feel the cold reach through his layers of clothes.

"I'm not. Fuck, I'm relieved!"

Farrier runs a hand over his face.

"I'm– fuck."

"It's okay," Collins offers uselessly.

"She's dead and I'm relieved I don' have to marry her. How fucked up is that?"

Collins thinks he hears a cry, and when Farrier tries to look away again he knows he heard a cry, and he doesn't let him turn around and steps forward to hold him in a tight embrace instead. Farrier wraps his arms around him tightly like he'd been waiting for Collins to hug him.

"I'm fucking horrible," he says, words muffled in the fabric of Collins' suit and sniffing through a runny nose. Jack keeps a hand rubbing at Farrier's back in what he hopes is an empathetic touch.

"No you're not, you're not."

They stay like that, holding onto one another against the trunk of a tree that's doing a really poor job of sheltering them from the rain at this point, but is better than nothing. Farrier doesn't really cry, stubborn as he is even in this state of inebriation, and after a while Collins feels his stubbly chin brushing against the side of his neck and smells the scent of alcohol again.

"I like it when you use my name," Farrier mumbles, words still muffled and burrowing his nose in Collins' shirt like it belongs there.

Collins' only thought at that moment, frozen and unable to say anything back, is that Drunk Farrier is a real piece of work. He thinks he understands, now, why he doesn't drink.