#I’d go from being so nauseous I couldn’t move to shaking so bad I could barely hold anything and in an insane amount of pain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: vomiting, light angst due to body image issues (pregnant!reader)

A/N: i have been working on a WIP all day! it’s going to be my longest one-shot by far. if you would like a hint, click here (another hint: it’s not a retelling of the episode)

Masterlist

Chapter 28

Gradually over the summer, your bump started to peek out just a little bit. The bottom of your belly would poke out of your tank tops slightly.

Spencer loved it because it gave him better skin-to-skin contact. He would constantly be rubbing and kissing your tummy while whispering softly to the baby.

He would often visit you in your office for lunch so he could bring whatever you were currently craving. You learned this the hard way once when you packed a chicken caesar wrap for lunch one morning and by the time it got to noon, it made you nauseous just looking at it. Spencer brought you watermelon that day because it was the only thing that sounded good.

You were just finishing up an email when there was a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” you announced.

“Hi, love. How are we doing today?” Spencer inquired.

“Better now that you’re here,” you looked up from your computer to give him a kiss.

“I brought you your fruit salad with extra watermelon and your prenatal vitamins. Also, I don’t know how your stomach is feeling but I would like you to try to have some protein because fruit does not have much sustenance for you and little one. I brought tofu, peanut butter crackers, or a protein bar, whatever you think you can get down,” Spencer unloaded his bag.

“I finished the whole 64 ounce water bottle before noon. Aren’t you proud of me, babe?” you beamed, proudly displaying your empty bottle.

“So proud, I’ll go refill it right now so you can take your vitamins,” Spencer lifted your blouse up and placed a gentle kiss right on your belly button, “Daddy will be right back, little one.”

You awoke to the sickly twisting feeling in your stomach and you carefully rose from the bed in an attempt to not upset your stomach any more.

Spencer was up and out of the bed as soon as he heard the first retch. He grabbed a hair elastic and tied your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Spence, I can’t be sick today,” you cried.

“Jo will understand, love. I’ll tell her you are taking care of little one.”

“I don’t want to miss her first day of first grade,” you sobbed into his chest.

“I will facetime you and take so many videos and pictures, you won’t miss a thing,” he promised you.

“I’m going to call you out of work. Then, I’m going to get you some tea, plain crackers, and iced water,” he kissed the top of your head.

“Will you be okay in here by yourself for a little?” he asked quietly.

You sniffled and nodded.

“Okay, shout if you need me. I’m going to go get that stuff for you and wake Jo up.”

“I want to at least say bye to her. I want to see her in her first day outfit,” you insisted.

“Of course, we’ll be back up in a little,” he assured you.

About 15 minutes later, Spencer returned with a tray of just about every drink and food you had been craving for the past week.

“I love you,” you smiled.

“I love you more,” he replied, setting the tray down on your nightstand.

“Mommy, brother or sister is being bad?” Jo asked.

“No, baby,” you motioned for her to climb up on the bed with you, “They are just growing and it is making Mommy a little sick but it’s okay. I’m sorry I can’t drop you off with Daddy today. But luckily, I heard your new teacher is super nice and you have Henry in your class again this year.”

“Bye, Mommy. I’ll miss you,” she hugged you, “Bye, brother or sister,” she waved to your belly.

“Bye, Baby J. I am expecting a full report on everything that happened as soon as you get home,” you smiled.

“I’ll be back in 30,” Spencer helped Jo off the bed, looking at you worriedly.

“Spence, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“Call me if anything happens like even if you just think you’re about to throw up, call me,” he insisted.

You nodded, “Have fun!”

“There’s my big first grader!” you smiled with open arms.

You were waiting on the couch for Jo and Spencer to come home from pick up time.

“Mommy!” she ran into your arms, “Ms. Moore is so nice. She let us color whatever we wanted for an hour during craft time today and she had a whole bin of dinosaur books in the library. And, me and Henry played on the big kid swings at recess today and I jumped off into the air!” she exclaimed.

“Oh my gosh! What a fun day you had!” you smiled.

“And you didn’t even hear the best news yet, Daddy signed up to be a classroom helper,” she beamed.

“Did he now?” you grinned, turning your attention to Spencer.

“Ms. Moore had the sign-up sheet out at pick-up time. How can I resist spending more time with Jo? I’m going to get lonely when both my girls are at work and school,” he plopped down on the couch and squeezed you both.

You couldn’t find a single cute blouse that still fit you that morning. You had to wear an ugly wrinkly gray one from the back of your closet that you bought a while back and hated but never got around to returning. You brushed through your hair quickly and forwent any makeup because you already felt like utter crap.

You would have called out sick but you had an important department meeting today that you had to sit through. Luckily, that meant little to no talking but you just had to pray that your stomach would settle.

At the end of the long day, you went home and changed into sweats. In an attempt to cheer yourself up, you drove to Jo’s school to see Spencer in action. It was his first day as class assistant.

You approached the classroom to see Spencer surrounded by a group of moms. They were all over him, practically swarming him like bees to honey. These were the exact moms that were horrible to you last year. They were all dressed in high heels and skinny jeans, stuff you couldn’t wear anymore.

You turned around and headed back out to the car.

Spencer immediately noticed your car wasn’t in the driveway when they got home.

“Love?” Spencer called out, setting his keys on the table when they entered the front door.

No response.

Spencer tried your cell but it rang out.

He immediately had Garcia on the phone next, “Penelope, I need you to track Y/N. She’s not home yet and not answering her cell and I’m worried.”

“Oh, McDonald’s? Okay, yeah thanks. That’s been one of her cravings recently,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Why did Mommy leave school and now she’s not here?” Jo questioned.

“Mommy wasn’t at school today, Princess. I think you are confused,” Spencer furrowed his brow.

“Daddy, I saw her,” Jo stated.

“Okay, I believe you,” he picked the little girl up and exited the house once again.

You didn’t want to be the crazy pregnant lady in a McDonald’s crying with a chocolate milkshake and a large fry but that is who you had become.

You heard the bell chime but you didn’t look up, dipping your next fry into your milkshake.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

Spencer was standing over you, looking very concerned and carrying Jo on his hip.

He set her down and whispered, “How about you go play in the play place for a little, Princess. Daddy will order you a happy meal.”

Jo looked at you with the same amount of concern in her eyes before deciding it was best to just follow what Spencer said. She ran off and Spencer took the seat across from you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he spoke softly.

“Not particularly,” you took a long sip of your milkshake.

“Jo said she saw you at the school today,” Spencer stated.

It didn’t take a profiler to see the way your face sank even more and you stopped sipping your shake.

“What upset you so much, love? I need to know if I’m going to fix it,” he grabbed your hand and kissed it.

“Nothing fits,” you stated.

“We’ll buy you more maternity clothes,” he replied quickly.

“I look ugly,” you protested.

“Completely and unequivocally false,” he answered sincerely.

“Those moms are going to steal you away from me,” another tear slid down your face.

Spencer’s face softened, he moved from the seat across from you to right next to you.

“You are probably feeling some residual feelings of abandonment because you had to do this alone last time,” Spencer stated softly.

You buried your face into his shoulder as confirmation.

“Love, I am never leaving you or Jo or little one ever again. There’s nowhere else I want to be. This is what makes me happy,” Spencer looked around, “I’d gladly stay in this crusty McDonald’s forever if you and Jo are here.”

Your giggle was muffled by his cardigan.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Spencer smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

A/N: i named Jo’s teacher ‘Ms. Moore’ as a little shoutout to @homoose !!! moore...moose, close enough. she was one of the writers who inspired me to start writing my own fics

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

#spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #cm fanfic

249 notes · View notes

goldenavenger02 · 3 years

Text

I can't be alone with all that's on my mind

But the hatred took over, after all. He should've been the green ninja. He should've been the one who was chosen to defeat The Overlord. "I don't want to control it! This isn't anything I don't already feel!"

Takes place after The Forgotten Element

•••

Kai's stomach convulsed as he gripped onto the toilet seat tightly, his knuckles going white.

As soon as the horror had sunk in that Skylor and Lloyd were injured by his greed and that Skylor had been taken, he had bolted to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet in time before his stomach spilled over.

Which brought him to where he was now, bent over sick in the small bathroom just outside of the main room.

•••

"You have to destroy the staff, Kai!" Lloyd pleaded, running up to him as he continued to blast Chen's lackies.

"Chen was right! This thing's awesome!"

"Kai, it holds too much power! Destroy it!" He heard Lloyd say to someone "if we don't get that staff out of his hands-!"

"No one is taking my staff!" He yelled, anger in his voice. This was his now. He deserved it, after all. Lloyd just wanted to be the special one again. "You had all the power, now it's my turn!"

He shook the thoughts out of his head briefly, glaring at the offending object. "What am I saying? I can't… I can't control it!"

"No, Kai! Don't!" Lloyd pleaded, his arm in front of Skylor. A pathetic attempt to stop him, really, as he started to use the powers, the rush flowing through his body

"I should've been the green ninja!"

And with that, he launched the blast, watching the terror in their faces. He relished it with a grin.

•••

"Kai?" A voice broke him out of his thoughts, resulting in a shudder. He couldn't quite place who it was, but then it came again. "Kai, can I come in?"

A cough cut him off from responding to Cole, but he swallowed it back. "Yeah."

The door opened and Cole sat on the floor next to him, setting his hand against his back, "FSM, you're sweating through your gi." He heard him mutter under his breath, "I brought some water if you're up to it."

Kai shook his head; he wasn't very nauseous anymore, but he also wasn't sure he could keep anything down just yet since the nausea was now being replaced by the sinking feeling of guilt.

"Sensei G's got Lloyd," Cole spoke, clearly knowing exactly what Kai was thinking, "He's got some burns, and he's kinda weak from the whole "powers being sucked out of him" thing, but he's gonna be okay."

Kai nodded, but then the second thought came to his head. 'Nya still thinks I betrayed her and everyone else.'

Once again, Cole cut him off before he could even speak. "Lloyd explained the whole thing, they're not mad. Nya said your plan was dumb, but that was it."

Kai couldn't hold back his chuckle at the mental image of Nya critiquing his plan, but it was short-lived. 'Skylor's still hurt. And missing.'

"No one blames you, you did what you thought was right." Cole spoke softly, gently setting his hand on Kai's shoulder, who finally mustered up the strength to move away from the toilet and take the cup of water from Cole's hand, muttering under his breath as he drank.

"Don't think telling Lloyd that I should've been the green ninja before blasting him was right."

"You weren't in your right mind, the staff-"

"The staff brought out my subconscious thoughts that I've had since we found out about the prophecy." Kai interrupted, setting the empty glass down on the floor.

"The staff makes one greedy, power hungry. I don't know how it does it, but it obviously does. The reason it had no effect on Chen was because the dude was already cuckoo for cocoa puffs," Kai couldn't hold back a snort at the ridiculous phrasing, "and if you don't believe me, you can go ask Lloyd for his two cents."

Kai sighed. He knew he should talk to Lloyd, at least see that he was okay for himself, but at the same time, he had hurt Lloyd, the one he swore to protect when he was fully aware of what he was doing.

"It's up to you. Alternatively, you could help us try to find Chen, but considering you just threw up your guts, I'd go with the safer choice of talking to Lloyd."

Kai used the wall to pull himself to his feet, hitting the knob on the toilet before allowing Cole to support some of his weight since his legs were still shaking before speaking.

"Take me to Lloyd."

•••

Lloyd winced as Nya wiped at the cut on the side of his cheek.

While most of his injuries were from his fight with Chen, that one had occurred when the jet crashed into the basement and the staff hit him across the face as it flew out of Kai's hand.

Although, if he was being completely honest, he didn't remember much of the whole situation.

•••

Lloyd winced as he was pulled to his feet by two of the lackies who kept referring to themselves as Kapow and Chop, his side throbbing horrendously from his fight with Chen.

Despite trying to fight back, he was weak both physically and emotionally, not to mention the vengestone keeping his hands behind his back.

As he was forced down the halls and the echoes of the large serpent hit his ears, he fought back the tears that wanted to stream down his face.

'How could Kai do this? How could he hurt the team like this?' He tried to push back the selfish thought of 'how could he hurt me like this?' and tried to replace it with 'how could he do this to Nya?' but he couldn't do it.

As the chanting grew louder, he tried one more time to break out of the two men's hold, but one just kicked him in the leg, forcing him forward into the large room all four of them had snuck into on their first night here.

But Cole and Jay were nowhere to be seen, and as he looked at Chen, Clouse and Skylor who were surrounded by guards, he swallowed harshly, seeing Kai standing next to them.

The chanting rang in his ears as he was forced to kneel, the vengestone quickly being replaced by two giant chains attached to the floor.

He looked up as footsteps approached, seeing Kai grow nearer; the sadness and fury consumed him as he demanded, his voice thick with tears. "Why would you help them?"

"Don't worry," Kai insisted in a hushed tone, but as Clouse approached, he raised his voice, "it won't hurt. Much." Before walking away from him with a cackle, the chanting stopped altogether.

Lloyd watched as Skylor offered herself willingly to the spell, a pit growing in his stomach as she cried out in agony.

He had to shut his eyes.

But the cries stopped shortly afterwards and he opened his eyes, only to see Chen approaching him with a wicked grin on his face and his stomach dropped in fear.

"And now for the final element," the staff was pointed towards him and out of the corner of his eye, Lloyd saw Kai turn away, "only one can remain."

The white light surrounded him, and he was immediately hit with a searing pain in his chest that sent him to his knees before forcing a scream from his throat.

It was over fairly quickly, but he collapsed onto his hands and knees, trying to regain his breath as his body, now weaker than ever and heaved harshly.

•••

"Alright, that's the last injury," Nya announced, bringing Lloyd out of his thought process to see a joking smile on her face, "unless you're hiding something from me."

"No, you got everything. Thank you." Lloyd smiled softly, receiving a hand in his hair and he couldn't hold back his laughter because of just how normal that was.

"I'm gonna go help them find Chen, but your dad is right outside if you need anything. Get some rest."

Lloyd nodded, watching as Nya exited the room before laying down on his back, biting back the sharpness of the bruising from where he was thrown by Chen with his own abilities directly into the leaderboard.

The pain dulled out enough for him to close his eyes and try to let sleep take him when the door opened and two sets of slow footsteps approached him.

He couldn't stop from flinching due to the sting as a hand gently touched his burned wrist, but he instantly regretted it when he heard the voice. "Lloyd? Are you awake?"

'Kai'

Lloyd opened his eyes, blinking away the blurriness to see Cole and Kai standing over him. "Yeah, I'm awake," he noticed the guilty look on Kai's face, as well as the paleness, "you okay?"

"I should be the one asking you that."

"I will be," Lloyd nodded, getting a good look at Kai's face and already knowing that if he was gonna get any information out of him, they needed to be alone, "Cole, can you-"

"Yeah, I need to talk to your dad anyways," Cole smiled, winking to ensure he got the hint before making his way out of the room.

The door barely closed before Kai spoke up, "Lloyd, I am so sorry about all of this."

"You did what you thought was best, I can't blame-" Lloyd started, but he was cut off quickly.

"I meant the staff."

'Oh'

"Kai, that wasn't your fault-"

"I could have killed you!" Kai shouted, cutting Lloyd off again, "I could've killed you and Skylor, I said things to you that I haven't believed in years!" He had tears coming down his face now even though his cheeks were still red with frustration, "I hurt Skylor, I hurt Nya… I hurt you."

Lloyd wasn't thinking when he wrapped his arms around him, all he knew in that moment was that he needed Kai to stop crying, to stop feeling so bad for something that wasn't even his fault.

He felt hot tears soaking his shoulder as Kai's body shook against him, like he had been holding this in for a long time. 'How do I make him see that it isn't his fault?'

•••

Garmadon wasn't sure what he was expecting when Kai came out of the small room that his son was currently residing in while he recovered.

He definitely wasn't expecting him to come out with tears in his eyes and bright red cheeks though.

"Kai, are you alright?" He asked softly, in order to avoid startling the obviously in distress teenager.

"Yeah," he stopped to wipe his face on his sleeve, "yeah, I'm okay?"

Garmadon raised an eyebrow before motioning him closer. "Take a walk with me, Kai."

"No, you need to stay with Lloyd-"

"Just down the hall and back," Garmadon didn't like the idea of leaving his son, but he also knew that the majority of the elemental masters were nearby, and if there was an emergency, they would be informed before anything could happen to Lloyd, "Lloyd will be fine."

Kai relented after that and the two of them started walking at a steady pace with only the silence lingering in between them.

"You know, Kai," Garmadon spoke softly, watching as the fire elemental's gaze met his, "when I was bitten, I did a lot of things that I didn't have control over. I became corrupted and hurt a lot of people I care about. My brother, my wife, you four ninja, even Lloyd."

Garmadon heard Kai's breath hitch and saw a few tears forming in his eyes. "But after my son saved me, you all forgave me even though I didn't feel as though I deserved it. I still don't know how all of you did that so easily."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, it took me awhile to forgive you for all of that." Kai said in a joking tone, even if his voice was thick from crying and the tear stains on his cheeks were becoming fresh again.

Garmadon shot him a soft smile before continuing, "there are things in this world that we cannot control, things that have to balance out. Although it takes time to heal from those things, to forgive ourselves for those things, that doesn't mean we can't let others forgive us for them and to give us a second chance."

Kai wiped his face on his sleeve again and Garmadon put his hand on his shoulder, feeling his body shake under his touch.

"You don't have to forgive yourself right away from what happened with the corruption from the staff. In fact, I wouldn't expect you to do so. But letting the others in, letting them give you a second chance… It's a good place to start."

Kai nodded, tears rushing down his cheeks at full speed now, "I'll do that."

"Good man," Garmadon smiled as the two of them turned to make their way back down the hall, "and if you need someone to talk to about this again, my door is always open."

"You don't have to-"

"I'll have none of that," Garmadon shook his head, "You will come to me if you need someone to talk to about this again."

"Is that an order?" Kai smiled, the tears finally starting to slow and his mood was clearly starting to brighten, given that his sass was coming back.

"Yes, it is." Garmadon nodded, seeing that he had accomplished what he set out to do, "do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sensei Garmadon." Kai winked as the two stopped in front of the door, his demeanor growing serious again, "I'm gonna go help them find Chen."

"Very well." Garmadon smiled, watching as Kai pulled his hood over his head before running to join the others outside.

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #sensei garmadon #nya ninjago #ninjago skylor #kai angst #angst #hurt/comfort #takes place after the forgotten element #but also is slightly altered so Kai had blasted lloyd and skylor before the others came in with the roto jet #tournement of elements #kai and garmadon solidarity #emeto cw #emeto tw #its not that graphic but i know it can be triggering for some

108 notes · View notes

yunhostinyuyu · 3 years

Text

marks

pairing: bad boy!san x fem reader

genre: college au, suggestive, almost smut

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: Y/N swore herself to never get involved with people like Choi San: the typical fuckboy. She hated him (or she at least made herself believe she did) but thats the exact reason that drew him towards her...

warnings: teasing, making out, mentions of sex, alcohol and drugs

—

„look at who we have here? Y/N doing her dirty laundry, never thought I’d witness that.“

you were hunched on your floor with baskets of freshly washed clothes all around the floor. Whipping your head to the door of your dorm‘s bathroom, and you immediately regret it. The cheeky comment came from no other than Choi San - Resident fuck boy and unfortunately, your roommates best friend. He is the type of guy your parents would warn you from. The type to play with a girl until he’s satisfied and dips right after.

The type of you you would never want to get involved with in any sort of way.

But, since he hangs around your dorm frequently and you share a few classes and lectures, that was not easy. Crashing on the couch you bought with your roommate bought together when you moved in, more often than you’d like. Throwing certain looks at you when you entered the lecture halls or passed by him when he was chatting and smoking with his friends off campus. Never letting you breathe for a single moment, he enjoyed teasing you. Needless to say you hated his guts for many things, and he just added more reasons to your imaginary list with every passing day you saw him around campus.

Meanwhile, you’re lifestyle was the complete opposite of his, being the well mannered and friendly classmate, the typical nice girl everyone thought you were - and what your parents wanted you to be. Of course, you were not always like that, especially around your friends. With them you could act the way you truly are, and that was anything but the front you put on most of the time. But San made you drop any sort of friendliness to curse at him every chance you got. And right now was no different:

“Fuck off Choi. Wooyoung isn’t here, so leave.” you spat while not paying anymore attention to him, instead going back to the task at hand.

Taking a few steps towards you, inspecting the room as if he had seen it for the first time, and paying close attention of you putting clothes out of the washing machine. His eyes paying close attention to your hands that move in fluid motions.

“I know, but he’ll be here any second.” Trailing off, and you decided to not even answer him - he isn’t worth your time or nerves right now, after all he just wanted to get under your skin and rile you up. And the less you talk, the better.

He hums to himself, as he bends down to pick up one black, lacy pair of undergarments, inspecting them closely. His thumbs grazing over the neat material, fingertips holding them up in the air. You don’t realize he took something from the basket to your left until he comments on them.

“Are these new? Must be, huh... your little ass would look sooo cute in them. Are you gonna wear them for me one day, Y/N?” his low voice echoed through the tiled room, and you are fast to react: snatching the pair of panties back, out of his grip and throwing it back into the basket. Scoffing, showing your stride at him without any hesitation. “In your dreams. Now, leave me alone. I’m not gonna repeat myself, Choi.” Your features twist as you grow more and more annoyed with him.

“Oh don’t worry,” he backed up a few steps, but the cocky grin stayed on his lips, “with that attitude I’ll most certainly dream of it.”

You heard the door twist, which could only mean that Wooyoung was finally here to save you from any further suggestive comments. Considering you couldn’t stand anything more that was about to leave his mouth.

Admittedly, San has his reputation for a reason: him being one of the most handsome guys you have ever laid your eyes on. And if he wasn’t such an asshole, there would be a possibility you’d be interested in him. And yes, if the stigma that your parents had embroidered into your brain, that ‘sex is bad’ and to stay ‘pure’ until you’re married. If you could push that out of your mind for good, you would be maybe like San. Maybe, you’d even be with him... but god forbid he would ever find out you thought of him like that, especially when you had one of your moments, late at night. If he would know about your honest thoughts, he would use it to his advantage. He wouldn’t give in until he got his way with you - in his very own way.

“San-ah! Come on, we gotta go!” your roommate screams and prompts the visitor to get going quick.

“Too bad, guess I’ll see you around, Y/N. Maybe one day my dreams will become reality nonetheless.” He turns on his heels and dashes towards his friend. The repeating sound of the lock falling into place made you sigh out loudly, pressing your forehead against the cold material of the washing machine you’re still sitting in front of.

Incidents like these are not new and you have already gotten used to San having zero shame when it came to anything even remotely personal or sexual. He knew how he comes across, which only scores him more and more girls to take home and to make his body count grow rapidly. But until now, it hasn’t worked with you, and he’s trying time and time again to wrap you around his finger. Without success.

And you planned to keep it this way.

–

“I hate you for dragging me here.” you groaned after you kept chewing on the rim of your red cup. The girl on your right ignored your comment and kept scanning the crowd.

It was unbelievable, but yes: you were stuck on a frat party... again. Your cousin Mijung needed to meet a guy she was planning on hooking up with, and you lost a bet, so you had to go with her. In secret, she was still scared to go by herself and you wanted to help her - regardless of that you hated parties like this. Obviously, you hoped that she wouldn’t leave your side too soon, but at the same time it only meant you could get home earlier, which was a win in your books.

„Sure you do. But I don’t care right now, because you owe it to me. You could let loose for once and also get some good di-“

„No, I’m not, and you know I can’t!“ you cut Mijung off and she lifts her hands up in defeat.

She just scoffs while scanning the place for faces she might recognize. “Yes, yes I know. God forbid your parents ever find out your at a party like this, or even have sex. But they have nothing to worry about.” Thinking to yourself that they really do not need to worry, but deep inside you wanted to do all these things that you got restricted from. Forcefully restricted yourself from, and the longer you thought about it, you wanted to go against it. Date and sleep with guys as you please, live a little. But still, something unknown was holding you back from it.

“You know it’s not just that but also-“ you started explaining yourself for the nth time in your life, but now she cut you off and hopped off her barstool. The man she was waiting for finally appeared and she left with him after they exchanged a quick peck as a greeting. Being uncomfortable with the scene, you fumbled with your phone in order not to look awkward or out of place - but that’s exactly what you were. And on top of that, you were alone.

You held your phone tightly in your grip, watching over the intense crowd, people on people and the sight made you nauseous, especially when you locked eyes with someone that was kissing or grinding on each other. You wanted to be able to do those sorts of things, but at the same time it scared you, almost disgusted you. But the sting of alcohol in your cup that you barely drank made everything worse. The situation altogether was just too much for you.

“Now look at that, am I high or is the notorious Y/N at our place?”

You cursed to yourself when you recognized his voice.

“Fuck off, Choi.” was the first and only thing that you could think of while still scrolling mindlessly through your apps to appear busy.

He slides into the seat Mijung left empty just a few minutes ago. “Now, you know that doesn’t affect me. I just wanna talk a bit. I’m not feeling getting hammered tonight if I’m being honest.” He started a conversation and you forced yourself to look at him. He looked too good to be true with his messy hair and black shirt and jeans. But you ignored his visuals in order to give him a strict look.

“And what do you wanna talk about? We never talk. And I’m not gonna be here for much longer anyways.” You explained and San rose and eyebrow at your comment. “Oh? So we’re do you plan on going?”

You didn’t know, since Mijung was left so early, you haven’t given it any thought other than going back home, even if it was too early to leave, but yet dark outside.

“Home. To my dorm. I hate places like this.” You looked away, and he noticed your discomfort. The atmosphere was really awkward between the two of you. As a result you turned slightly away from him.

He sighs, “You know, we can go somewhere quiet.” You adamantly shake your head at his suggestion, “no, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re aware of your reputation and so am I. I’m not doing that.” you spat disheartinly, assuming it was another one of his attempts to get into your pants. But surprisingly, it wasn’t.

“No, you listen now,” he took hold of your arm and twisted you back to face him. “You’re uncomfortable here, I can see that. I’m taking you to my room. And not to get with you, but because I promised Wooyoung to take him home when he’s completely wasted tonight. I can take you home then alongside him.” he says and his brows furred a little.

Wooyoung was someone you trusted, so if he trusted San to take him home when he’s completely shitfaced, then maybe you could also trust him? All alarms went off in your head telling you he was anything but trustworthy. But as you looked into his eyes, there was something genuine about his offer. But after a few moments of thinking, you gave him the benefit of the doubt: you complied and nodded, “okay, but just because Woo trusts you.” But that was enough for him.

He got up and urged you to come after him, walking up the stairs until the loud noises from the other people steadily died down. After the two of you entered his room, your nervousness und sense of awkwardness disappeared again. Even if it was San, you were used to him, to his presence. And it was better then to be lost and alone downstairs.

“Make yourself feel at home.” He introduces you when he plops down at his bed, while you took a closer look around his personal space. There were plenty of books on his shelf, a flag hung up on the wall, and the desk was messy in books and other stuff he used frequently. To be honest, you imagined his room to be more messy, but it was just a kind of creative chaos.

The silence in his room was thick. He watched your movements closely for a while, but you tried to give him not much attention, even if you felt his stares linger on you. Minutes passed until he started to speak up again:

“Do you mind if I ask you something? I’m kinda curious, y’know.”

You turned around and look into his eyes, that are loosely hidden behind his dark strains of hair over his forehead. Arms pushed behind him on the bed to support his upper body, leaning back. You walk back a little until you sit down in a giant bean bag that was in the center of the small room. While you adjust yourself you look over to him once again, signaling him to continue talking. He sits up a little, leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs.

“You know, any other girl would beg me to fuck them if they were in your spot. Why are you so determined to do anything but that?”

Taken aback, you knew San was bold, but you didn’t expect him to go there, especially not at this time, when he offered a hide out for you so considerably. Shrugging your shoulders you dip your chip to your chest and try to figure out a way to answer his question.

“I’m, uhm, I’m... it’s just not my thing.” You stutter out, and you are pretty sure you have an aura of uncertainty surrounding you. Of course, San picks up on it:

“Wait, not your thing? What kinda guy did you sleep with that make you think that way about sex? Or girl?” His facial expressions clearly confused, not yet understanding your reasoning.

You stayed silent. Because you couldn’t muster to say the truth: you haven’t. Yes, you were a still a virgin, in college. Nobody knew other than Mijung, not even any of your closest friends. And the fact that San was this close to discovering your secret, or probably already did, made you anxious.

“Mmh, I get it now. You never got laid. Not even once in your life. Am I Right?” He assumed and hit the nail right on the head. You wanted to cuss him out, hit and slap him, but that would only prove him right. The blush that crept on your face was answer enough for him. He stood up from his place on the bed to sit back down next to you on the floor. You couldn’t look at him, because of the pure humiliation he’s putting you through, trying to get swallowed by the fuzzy material of your seat.

“So that’s the reason you’re acting like this most of the time: you have never gotten any action together than with yourself. How am I only just now figuring this out?” He chuckles, having you in a spot were you couldn’t get out as easy as you’d like. Still not opting to speak, gnawing at the inside of your cheek instead, but you don’t need to anyway, because he continues to piece the evidence together.

“Wooyoung once mentioned you had strict parents, you know. Judging by how you act around your friends, I didn’t think you’d care about what they thought, no? You’re well past the age of being ‘daddy’s good girl’. And also by the way you throw shallow insults at me every time we are in the same room, I can tell you that you’re anything but the nice girl your parents want you to be. That’s not the real you. But Y/N, you know it’s your life? You can do whatever you want? If you want to take drugs, take them. If you want to smoke, smoke. If you want to get dicked down, then for fucks sake get some! You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Stunned by his rant, you scanned his face for any signs of emotions, but it was really hard to tell what was going on in his head. He sighs and dips his chin to the side, before finding your eyes again, taking your hand into his rough ones. The physical touch had a certain effect on you, and you wanted to be closer to him. Your future self your probably slap yourself in the face for this, but right now you got lost in his dark eyes and deep stare. Feeling vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze, not knowing what to do or say. Taking a quick breath, you uttered under your breath “where is this going, San?” Against all expectations, he smiles.

“Anything that happens here, between you and I, nobody else is gonna know about it. Not a single soul.” His hand slowly start to wander up your arm, touching the skin of your neck and threads his fingers through the strains of hair that rest on your shoulder. You don’t feel anything other than the alarms in the back of your mind slowly subside and be replaced by other thoughts.

“Just tell me no and I’ll stop.” His voice comes out raspy and seductive, and it sends waves of arousal down your core, even if the only physical contact you two had was from his wandering hands. The thought excited you, and he had a point: you could do whatever you wanted, and up until now, the consequences would keep you from giving into him. But there are no worries of the sort holding you back anymore, and if it was only for tonight, so be it. He was to strong, his effect was too strong.

His eyes never leave yours, until you give him an answer.

“Yes, okay. Yes I want it. I want you to show me what I’m missing out on.” You brace yourself for whats coming next, but nothing could prepare you for what he had in mind. He grabs your hips to lift you up, and in shock your arms fly to grab his shoulders. He settles you down in his lap, hands immediately find your ass and grips the flesh through your jeans. You both lean forward, hot breath mixing and hitting your faces. That was until San looses his patience just a few seconds later and presses his lips onto yours. And it wasn’t like anything you have ever felt before.

The two of you move in sync for what feels like ages, his tongue entering your mouth and taking the lead as he continues to grip your waist and butt to draw a few whimpers out of you. Your fingers found their place in his nape and gripped his hair as you busied your mouth with his. He breaks the kiss and moves down towards your neck and starts to suck on your skin, making marks blossom in shades of red and purple.

“If you want this to be a secret, you should make sure to cover up your marks later, because I’m not letting you go without adding my mark to your beautiful, beautiful body.”

Eyes blown out in lust, and you died in anticipation. He sucked more and more hickeys until he was satisfied with the finished product. He lifted his head up again and you wanted to kiss him again.

But then, you heard something hit the door from the outside, followed by a thud and a load groan. “San-ah! Let me in, I need to -“

—

#wow idk why either just go with it #ateez #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez writing #ateez x reader #ateez san #choi san #ateez smut #ateez suggestive #san x reader #san x you #san fluff #san smut

280 notes · View notes

mrdanielbond · 3 years

Text

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling, Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

#mikael blomkvist #daniel craig #mikael blomkvist x reader #the girl with the dragon tattoo #crime #fan fiction #romance #daniel craig x reader #james bond #James Bond 007

80 notes · View notes

yuzukult · 4 years

Text

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup @yobroitsjayden

← previous chapter || next chapter →

Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind.

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit.

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching.

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along.

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one.

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more.

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous?

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it.

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.”

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room.

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?”

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?”

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him.

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts smut #jungkook x reader #gyukult fics

686 notes · View notes

skyeet-the-writer · 4 years

Note

Can you write a corpse x reader when she finds out she's pregnant and she's playing among us and she imposter with corpse and she kill someone and someone sees and reports it right away she get all nauseous and let's it slip to everyone while she go to throw up and corpse doesn't know what to do but he's excited to be a dad. You can change it up and add thing if you want, I was writing everything down, sorry if this is weird.

And If You Wanna Stay … Please Stay

yes finally a pregnant request! also, i’m gonna be waiting to get the triggered pro-life people in my asks and DMs about how ‘iT’s A LiViNg BeInG”. like what’s the baby gonna do? tell it’s mom??

corpse x female!reader

summary: when the reader gets morning sickness during an Among Us game, Corpse and her expect the worst. And they get it.

word count: ~4.8k

warnings: swearing, vomiting, mentions of abortions, mentions of being pregnant, a little bit of suggestive content near the end but nothing happens

He’s finally asleep, you think to yourself as you watch your boyfriend’s chest rise and fall. He needed it.

Recently, Corpse has had trouble sleeping for more than three hours. You two had tried everything you could think of. You had tried staying up late to get him tired, you tried subliminals and music to get him to sleep. You even tried to give him a massage one time, but that led to other things.

You look over at the drawn curtains and pull them back a little. There, on the window, you have tin foil covering them. It’s a trick you learned from your dad when you were younger. When he worked night shifts, he had to sleep during the day, and he had trouble sleeping since your parent’s room had thin curtains. And so your father taped tin foil to all of the windows in their room so that he could sleep.

You’re not exactly sure why this seemed to work for Corpse, but you’re certainly not complaining. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping. He doesn’t look stressed, he doesn’t look sad. He looks so calm.

You lean forward and peck his nose. His breathing stutters and his nose wrinkles. You giggle and slowly, he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times and his brown eyes look around the room before settling on your face. He grins and your smile widens.

“That’s a pretty face to wake up to,” he mumbles and his morning voice makes you blush. “Oh my god, you’re already blushing.”

You blush even harder and bury your face in his neck. He laughs and hugs you around your waist. “Don’t make fun of me, asshole.”

He kisses your hair. “Morning, baby.”

“Good morning,” you mumble into his skin. You pull away so that you’re only a few inches apart. He leans forward and nuzzles your nose against his. Instead of kissing in the morning--you can’t handle his morning breath--you nuzzle your noses together.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask after you two pull away.

He smiles. “Really good, actually.” He chuckles and looks up at the window. “I guess the foil worked.”

You laugh and sit up. You’ve been awake for a little while and your stomach growls. “You hungry, babe?”

He nods and sits up as well, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out. “Can we have pancakes?”

“You can eat those, right?” you ask. You stand up out of bed and walk to the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing behind you.

“Yeah,” you hear him say. “Even if I couldn’t, I’d still want to eat them because you make really good pancakes.”

You smile. “Really? Thanks, babe.”

You get out the ingredients to make the pancakes when Corpse announces that he’s going to take a shower. You give him a kiss on his cheek and notice it’s a little scratchy. You grab his chin suddenly and he blinks at you as you run a thumb against his cheekbone.

“Want me to shave?” he asks softly.

You shrug. “If you want.”

He grabs your hand and presses his lips against your finger. He gives you a sweet little smile. “I’ll shave.” He squeezes your hand before walking back to your room.

After mixing all of the ingredients, you drop a few droplets onto the buttered up griddle. When it sizzles, you pour two medium-sized pancakes before going to search for the spatula.

When you find it in the dishwasher, you flip both of the pancakes and grin. They’re both perfect. You notice it’s quiet in the kitchen and call out, “Alexa.” You hear her go off in the living room. “Play some fall lofi.”

“Playing ‘Midnight Lofi - Fall Vibes’.

”You smile when it starts to come from the living room. It’s a little quiet, so you say, “Turn it up.”

The music starts to play a little louder and you smile more. It’s so aesthetically pleasing, lofi music. It’s probably one of your favorite music genres. Before you moved in with Corpse, you had to listen to something and you eventually began to fall asleep to lofi. But now that you’ve been living with him for almost a year, you don’t listen to it as much. Usually when you’re cleaning the house or playing music when you study for school.

You cook a few more pancakes and when you’re putting them on a plate, you have an idea. Corpse can’t eat chocolate because of his health, but you can. And you usually have a secret stash of chocolate in the back of the pantry. You’ve been craving chocolate a lot for the past week which is weird because your monthly hasn’t started yet even though it should have a few days ago. But you don’t dwell on that thought and pull up a chair from the small island and stand on top of it to reach the very back of the pantry. Your fingers skim the edge of the chocolate chip bag and you grab it between your middle and index finger. You grin at it and go to hop off of the chair when suddenly--

“What are you doing?”

You yell and you almost slip off the chair. Luckily, you land on your feet and wobble. You look up at your boyfriend when you regain your balance. He’s smirking and looking between you and the bag in your hand.

“Chocolate,” you tell him, making your way back to the griddle like nothing happened. “You know, just because you can’t eat it doesn’t mean I have to suffer with you.”

He laughs and leans on the counter next to you. “I know you have a stash, y/n.”

You look at him with wide eyes, stopping in your tracks. “You do?”

He nods. “Yep. I knew since the first month you moved in. You’re bad at hiding it, you know.”

You blink at him before shrugging, walking over to the griddle. “Well, you’re not allowed to have any.” You stick your tongue out at him and sprinkle the mini chocolate chips into the remaining batter. There are enough pancakes for Corpse, so you’ll just cook up the rest for yourself.

Usually, you and Corpse don’t wake up until after breakfast time since you have a habit of sleeping in. But when you can wake up early enough for breakfast, you both like to sit out at the small balcony and eat together.

“What are we doing today?” you ask Corpse, sitting across from him at the small metal table.

There’s a breeze and it ruffles his hair. “I was gonna stream Among Us later. You can play, too. My fans love you.” He smiles and looks down at his plate.

“As they should.” You flip your hair and the two of you laugh. “Yeah, I can play for a little while. I’ve got classes to do and a paper due tomorrow, though.” While Corpse is a Youtuber and a streamer, you’re a college student taking classes at San Diego State University, trying to get your major in anthropology and a minor in Spanish and engineering. “God, I have a test at the end of the week, babe. I’m gonna fail it,” you mutter, putting your face in your hands.

“What’s it in?”

“Spanish,” you tell him, pushing a blueberry with your fork.

He gives you a stare. “Babe, I’m literally half Mexican.” He laughs.

You throw the blueberry at his head and it bounces off onto the floor. “Shut up, stop making fun of me!”

He grins. “I can tell you the answers as you take the test. It’s online, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I chose all online classes this year. I mean, you could. But that’s cheating.” You flip a piece of your pancake over. “And I don’t wanna cheat. I cheated all the way through high school. I want college to be different.”

Corpse grabs your hand and you look up at him. He’s smiling at you. “You’re smart, baby. You’re gonna do fine. You’re gonna get your degrees and you’re gonna be the best... what are you studying again?”

“Anthropology,” you tell him quietly.

“You’re gonna be the best anthropologist ever.”

You crack a small smile. “Do you even know what an anthropologist is?”

“No.”

You laugh and that gets him to smile. You lean across the table and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s a little sticky and sweet because of the syrup, but you’re not complaining.

Later that morning, after taking a shower while Corpse cleans breakfast up, Corpse says that he’s going to stream and you come and join him. There’s a monitor across from his that you use from time to time and a headset as well.

Your boyfriend sends you the code for the Discord and the Among Us game. Corpse looks at you from across the desks and you smile. He grins back and your stomach churns. You blink and wince at the feeling. You’ve been feeling nauseated for a few days now and you don’t want to get sick during a stream.

“Hi Corpse,” someone says as you load into the waiting room. You look back at the screen as someone gasps. “y/n! Best friend!”

It’s Sean and you laugh. “Hi, Sean.”

“y/n!” exclaims someone else and you realize that it’s Lily.

“I thought I was your best friend, Jack!” says Sykkuno and he sounds hurt.

You smile and move your character to the customization. You choose yellow and choose the leaf hat. Since your gamer tag is “lemon” you always try and be a lemon.

“Aw, y/n’s a lemon,” says Dave.

You laugh and run circles around him. “Hi, Dave.”

You hear him laugh and Corpse chuckles in front of you. You look at him and be flashes you a smile.

The round starts and the red “IMPOSTER” text lights up your screen. You’re paired up with Felix. You haven’t been the imposter with Felix too often, so you don’t know what to expect. You mute your headset and head down to storage to fake wires before going to fake another task.

You’re standing in the electrical room pretending to download data when Sykkuno walks in. You pull up the sabotage map and close the door before killing him and venting. You come out in the medbay and head over to the cafeteria.

When a body is reported, it’s Lily’s. You unmute yourself and bite your thumbnail as your stomach churns even more. You’re starting to get worried that you’re going to get sick.

“I found Lily in admin,” says Sean. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“Sykkuno is dead, too,” Julien points out.

“Oh shit,” you mutter and hold a hand over your mouth. You try to keep the bile from rising while everyone talks and you don’t bother to listen. You do hear someone say that they’re going to skip voting and you do the same.

When no one is ejected, you mute your mic once again and go to follow Corpse down to the shields. You stand beside him while he does his task. Sorry, babe, you think and kill him just as your kill cooldown reaches zero.

You smirk and run away in the opposite direction and you can feel him staring at you. You glance up at him and your smile widens. “What?”

He just shakes his head and you laugh.

You meet up with Dave and follow him around and fake wires with him. At one point, you and he cross paths with Felix and Toast. You may not know Felix too well, but any good imposter knows to go for a double kill. So as you run by each other in the cafeteria, you close the door and both you and Felix kill who you were with before venting away.

By the time you’re out of the vent and running away from admin, Dave’s body is reported. Your stomach feels awful now and you’re almost certain you’re going to throw up in the next thirty seconds.

“Fuck.” You unmute your mic. “It was me, I killed Dave. I’m the imposter. I’ll be right back.” You practically throw your headset off and run for the bathroom.

Corpse watches you practically run out of the room. For a second, he’s not sure what to do. Should he go after you? But he’s in the middle of streaming.

“y/n?” Sean asks. “Corpse, where’d she go?”

“Is she okay?” Julien wonders.

He nods even though no one can see him. “Y—yeah. I’m gonna go check on her. I’ll be right back.” He mutes his mic and takes his headphones off before leaving the room to go check on you.

He finds you on the tiled bathroom floor vomiting into the toilet. He curses and kneels behind you, pulling your hair back.

When you finish, he says, “This is the third time this week you’ve gotten sick, baby.”

You groan and lean your head on your arm. “I know. I don’t know why. Well, I—“ You cut yourself off and go still as if you suddenly had a realization.

Corpse tilts his head. “What is it?”

It takes you a few long moments to respond. “…My period is late. And I’m getting morning sickness. Plus I’ve been moody.” You turn back to look at him and he can tell you’re about to cry. “Corpse.”

You don’t need to say anything else. He’s already standing up, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach and his shaking hands. “I’ll go get you some tests.”

You grab his hand. “Corpse, no! I’ll go.”

He shakes his head and gets on his knees in front of you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

Your lip quivers. “You don’t have to do this. I know how much you don’t like going outside. Really, it’s not a big deal, I can go get some.”

But then he kisses your forehead. “y/n, it’s okay. You need to rest. I won’t be out for very long.” He stands up after squeezing your hands. “I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”

Before you can do anything to stop him, he turns around and goes to grab his mask and his wallet before grabbing your car keys. He doesn’t like to drive, but you’re worried and driving is quicker. And right now you’re the most important thing for him to be thinking about.

When Corpse leaves, you sigh and stay sitting on the floor for a few more minutes while your stomach settles itself. Afterward, you get up and brush your teeth after flushing the toilet. Deciding to get some school work done, you grab your laptop and head to the living room.

When you pass by his recording room, however, you see his monitor still on. You curse and head inside. He’s still streaming. You sit down and put his headset on and unmute his mic. “Hey, guys.”

You glance at the exploding chat as Sean asks, “y/n? Where’s Corpse? Are you okay?”

I’m probably pregnant. “Uh, I’m kind of sick, so Corpse went out to get me some, uh, stuff. Sorry, but we gotta go. Uh, it was fun streaming.”

“Okay,” says Sykkuno. “I hope you feel better, y/n.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Bye, guys.” You leave the chat and close the game before looking at Corpse’s stream chat. “Sorry about this, guys. I had fun streaming, though, I’m sure Corse did too. Have a good day.” You smile even though they can’t see you before ending the stream. You go over to your monitor and leave the game and chat in your own game. You lean back in your chair and press your hands in your eyelids.

You want to cry. You want to scream. You can’t be pregnant. You’re still a kid, you haven’t completed college yet. You and Corpse aren’t even married.

You suck in a shaky breath and wipe your damp eyes. “I’m probably not pregnant,” you whisper and stand up to go into the living room. “I probably just ate something bad. Yeah, that’s it.”

You sit in the living room on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders, trying to focus on your schoolwork. But you can’t. Your mind is too overwhelmed with the possibilities. You hope Corpse is okay. You know how much he hates going outside and being around other people.

You turn back to look at the lecture your professor posted and sigh. You just need to relax and calm down. Just wait until Corpse gets back and focus on schoolwork until then.

It takes a while, but he does come back. Some small voice in your head thought that he wasn’t going to come back, but you quickly pushed it away. Corpse loves you and he’d never leave you.

The front door opens and you look up from the paper you’re in the middle of typing. You meet him in the hallway where he’s taking his mask off, a plastic bag in his hand. He meets your eyes and cups your face in one hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Your chin wobbles and you shake your head. Tears form in the edges of your eyes and you suck in a deep breath. “Did you get some tests?”

He nods hand hands the bag to you. But before you can take them, he grabs your wrist. “Hey. I’m not leaving, y/n.”

You nod before taking the bag from him and quickly walking to the bathroom. You’re scared to say anything because you know that if you do, you’ll start to cry.

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor with Corpse, leaning into his side as he rubs your shoulder. There are three tests on the counter and your boyfriend has a timer running on his phone for five minutes. So far, three minutes have passed. To you, they’ve felt like a lifetime.

“Are you okay?” Corpse asks quietly, finally breaking the silence.

You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel. “I don’t know. I’m scared.” You glance down at your stomach and place a hand on your naval. “If I am pregnant, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m young.” You look at him. “We’re young. I’m still in college. I can’t afford to have a kid!”

“I know.” He draws you closer to your shoulder. “But whatever you decide to do, I’m going to support you. And I’m not going to leave you, either. In case you were worried about that.”

Even though you shouldn’t have been, you were.

Luckily, Corpse changes the subject, going on to say, “I’ve been working on another song.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of a lofi type song. I can show you the lyrics, later, if you want.”

You smile a little and look up at him, staring into his shining, dark eyes. “I’d like that.”

He smiles back and leans down to give you a small kiss. When you pull away, his phone rings, signaling that the timer is done. He turns his phone off and you stand up, walking towards the counter where the tests are. You pick one up.

One line.

You let out a breath of relief and turn to Corpse where he’s leaning on the sink. “Negative.”

He smiles a little. “What about the other two?”

You look back down at the other two tests. You pick one up and your heart drops. Two lines. You swallow and gently place it down as your hands begin to shake. Maybe that one is a false positive. There’s still another one. Whatever this one says will probably determine if you’re pregnant or not.

And so you pick it up. And you smack a hand over your mouth when you see two lines. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant. The test falls from your hands and you fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face.

“Baby, what did it say?” Corpse asks, coming to your side and trying to coax your face into his hand. “Babe?”

“I don’t want a baby!” you exclaim through your tears. “I can’t handle that. I’m too young, I’m not ready. We’re not ready.” You lean into his arms as he pulls you towards him. “Corpse, I don’t want it.”

He nods and you feel him run his fingers through your hair. “It’s your decision, babe. It’s your choice. And I’m gonna support you either way if you want to keep it or not. If you do decide to keep it, then we’ll figure something out. If not, I’ll drive you there and get you In-N-Out or something.”

That gets you to laugh as you tighten your arms around him. “You’ll really buy me food?”

“Yes. I’d do anything for you.”

Your stomach churns that night as you’re scheduling an appointment to get rid of the clump of cells in your body. You’re nervous and Corpse was sweet enough to order you whatever you want for dinner.

You get off the phone as Corpse grabs the food from the delivery person and walks into the kitchen. He looks at you as he places the bags down on the counter. “So?”

You swallow and lean on the counter. “My appointment is in a couple of days.”

He nods and approaches you, placing his hands on your hips and drawing you to his chest. “It’s going to be okay, love.”

You lean your head on his chest. “Am I a bad person?”

“Of course not. It’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it. And besides, it’s not like it’s living anyway.”

You giggle as you try not to cry again. “What’s the baby gonna do? Remember it?”

Corpse laughs his deep and rumbly laugh and you grin. “True. But I seriously will buy you In-N-Out if you want. Or McDonald’s.”

You laugh again and tighten your arms around him. “Okay. And, Corpse?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for being so supportive of wanting to get rid of it.”

He kisses your head. “Don’t thank me.”

When you and Corpse are laying in bed after watching a true-crime documentary, he’s gently dragging his nails up and down your back as you’re nestled into his chest. The tinfoil is still on the windows and it makes the room even darker. Which is actually the entire point.

Something had been rattling around in your head for the past few hours and you hadn’t gotten the courage to ask Corpse. But here, in the darkness of the bedroom the two of you share, you often ask each other stupid questions late at night when neither of you can fall asleep.

And it feels like it’s going to be another one of those nights because you’re wide-awake and you know Corpse is as well. And so you ask, “Do you ever want to have kids together?”

His hand abruptly stops dragging his nails on your back. “What?”

You regret asking him, but there’s no going back now. “When we’re older, would you ever want to have a family together?”

His hand begins to slowly go up and down your back once more. “Maybe. If you want to. If you want to have kids one day when we’re older, then I’ll definitely have kids with you.”

This makes you smile and you tighten your arms around his middle. “I love you, Corpse.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses your head. “Before we have kids, we should get married first.”

You grumble and say, “We’ll see who proposes first, then.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around your waist. “It’ll probably be you, baby. I’m too anxious.”

“Excuses, excuses,” you huff but the two of you laugh. “I’m too broke to afford a ring, though. You might have to settle with a Ring Pop.”

“If you propose to me with an onion ring and I would say yes.”

You giggle as something else comes to mind. “What about those cheap, plastic spider rings? Or the ones that come on cupcakes.”

Corpse laughs again and begins to scratch your back again. “If you do that, we would get married on the spot,” he says in that deep and gravely voice of his.

You grin. “I’m keeping that in mind.”

Corpse hums into your shoulder. “You’re not going to fall asleep anytime soon, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Are you?”

“Nope.”

“What do you want to do?” you ask him, pulling away from him to look at his face through the darkness.

Even though you can’t see him too much, you know he’s smirking. “Well, there’s already a fetus in you. Want to see if we can get another one?”

You laugh and push his chest. “You’re disgusting, Corpse!”

He laughs and grabs your hands and lifts your arms up so he can roll on top of you. “Maybe. But it got you to laugh.”

You blush and turn your head to the side as he sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head. He starts to kiss down your neck and you sigh. “Corpse.”

He hums against your skin.

You bite your lip. “I’m not really in the mood, babe.”

Immediately, he stops what he was doing and lifts his head. “Okay. That’s fine, babe. It’s been a long day. Can we still cuddle, though?”

You nod and smile. “Of course. You can be the little spoon.”

“Yay!” he exclaims and climbs on top of you and rolls on his side. You get yourself situated behind him and throw one arm over his stomach and use the other one to play with his incredibly curly hair. Your legs get tangled together like they always do and you bury your fingers in his hair while he lets out a deep breath through his nose.

“Happy?” you ask him quietly and he nods. You squeeze his stomach with the arm you have there and kiss his head. “Okay. Try to sleep again, babe, okay?”

He nods, but both of you know you’re not going to fall asleep for a while. And that’s okay. You both sit there in the darkness talking about everything and nothing while you play with his hair and he holds the hand around his stomach with one of his hands. You don’t say anything else about you being pregnant or kids or how you want to get rid of it, and you’re glad. You don’t want to talk about it because you feel like a bad person for not wanting the baby.

Of course, you’re not going to change your mind. Neither you nor Corpse are ready for a child. But that small voice in your head tells you that you’re making the wrong choice or a bad decision.

But you don’t listen to it. You don’t listen to it that night while Corpse falls asleep again in your arms or when you’re in class the next day. Not even when you’re listening to a demo of Corpse’s new song in the car on the way to the clinic.

“It’s really good!” you exclaim as he parks in the parking lot. “I love it, babe.”

He smiles at you before glancing at the clinic. “Want me to go with you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. It'll take little while, though. So you can go do something else if you want to.”

He nods and leans in to give you a kiss. “Okay. I love you. Text me if anything goes wrong at all, okay?”

You laugh gently and nod. “Okay, I will.”

“Love you,” he tells you again as you’re putting your mask on.

You pull it down and smile at him softly. “You already said that, babe.”

He blushes and looks away. “O--oh. Sorry.”

You just kiss his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll be back.” You pull your mask back up and gather your things before getting out of the car. You wave to him and then make your way into the clinic.

And Corpse did stay true to his words about getting you In-N-Out after your appointment. He even paid for it and got you a milkshake, too.

That night, after finally dragging Corpse away from his computer so he’ll at least try to fall asleep with you, you begin to think. You feel better after your appointment. Before, you were incredibly stressed out and even a little depressed. But afterward, you felt so much better. You felt like you could breathe and no have to worry about throwing up or eating the wrong thing.

And you didn’t regret getting an abortion. You and Corpse both knew neither of you are ready for one and that’s okay. You’re both still young and still new to being together. But as Corpse hums some song against your neck with his nose buried in the skin there, you feel the vibrations from his throat against your shoulder. You sigh happily and push a hand into his hair and gently scratch at his scalp. You feel him smile against your neck and you can’t help but mimic it.

Yeah. You and Corpse aren’t ready for kids. But maybe you will be one day.

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

I’m sorry, but the tag list is closed. It’s just too stressful for me to keep adding them. I’m sorry, guys. Also sorry to everyone who messaged me to add them because I didn’t write them down and can’t access my messages now. Still love you guys! x.

@honeysuger @chubby-dumpling @polahorvat @annshit @simonsbluee @dad-ee-drea @save-the-sky @wibblytimey @thegirlwholikestomanythings @yagorlnessa @alilshit @majolittlemixgurl18 @the-bunny-anon @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @loraleiix @artist-bby @ellomellows @pillowjj @matthew-gray-g @myherotrashbin @sunnsetteeee @lxdybyrd @cultofandom @anngelllla @tododokizuku @pachowpachowbucket @gaysludge @bethpiercwhy @marvelkatwoman @c0rpsew1fe @your-cherry-bomb @bi-andready-tocry @redosmo @gracehaileym @helena-way07 @nekomacam @fadingprunebagelfestival @fifiyau105 @easygoingtheatre @satanwithagenda @gracehaileym @oumachii @mythicalreader @this-isnt-living-anymore @punkrainbows @kitsunedarian @crapimahuman @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @realnicoleworld @scarswideworld @bluewneptune @weeblyheaux @beebo-at-the-church @melmachh @abbiesthings @peterparkerspjsuit @mitchiesdungeon @theeerealpunkin @kaitlynw011 @bookoffracturedghosts @beebeomgyu @tooturntashbash @hughugh20 @spideys-gurl @reddeserths @heartbroken-writer @chimchimsugakookies @danny-devitowo @susceptible-but-siriusexual @moonnei @crystalbaby12 @cherry-pieee @girl-obsessed-with-things @sokkas-paintings @yobroitsjayden @boba-king-iroh @chouxfleur @bbecc-a @tayloryorkscurls @getdevils @nightly-daydreamer @beegobuzzbuzz @dxffxdils @mae-musicbitch @fangirlmisanthrope @bipolarbisexualdisaster @taliyahvermillion @unded-bride @kguerrero-23 @cold-deep-water @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @motheroffae @jokenotfunny @yongboxerrr @theolwebshooter @hawkssnugget @yoyoanaria @babyhoneystvles @rjwinterfell @simp-for-corpse @benjaminka @sailor-earth-1 @mmimozaa @zirvel @bombardia @parkchaeyoung1997 @tetsuluvbot @killuaz0ldick @xibrokensunriseix@fuckbuckyyy @luv-buggie @moneybagmara @betabeta0031 @adorkably @angelic-blxssom @littlebabysandboxburritos @thebriarpatch @i-have-arrived-bitch @alexandrium

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse_husband #corpse_husband x reader #oneshot #x reader #angst #fluff

458 notes · View notes

not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 6:

Truthfully, it’s been a long day. A really long day.

The weather’s begun to change, and people are coming in left and right riddled with the flu. Your entire day was spent running between rooms, administering medication, taking temperatures and, unfortunately, cleaning up puke. All in all, it was a terrible night, and it was only going to get worse when you still had to go grocery shopping afterwards.

Still, you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath as you pushed the door open. Your last patient of the night, was thankfully, not flu-ridden. From your chart she was old, and the only thing you would be doing is taking her vitals before she moves on to radiology.

“Hello!” You greet, trying your best to smile kindly. “I’ll be taking care if you today.”

The old lady greets you, smiling gently as you approach. She’s got one hand wrapped in a bandage, the other cradling it protectively. Her face is a little uneasy, no doubt in obvious pain, but she seems to try and smile through it.

“So, I take it you’re here for your wrist? To get an x-ray?” You say, pulling over the medical cart. She nods and you take the blood pressure cuff, wrapping it gently around her arm. You take her vitals and then step back. “Alright, do you think you could take off the bandages for me? I just need to see.”

“Of course, I understand.” She says, calmly removing the bandages.

When she removes them entirely, her wrist is a sickening shade of blue. It’s swollen and discolored and looks incredibly painful, if the look on her face wasn’t any indication. When you look a little closer there’s strange disfigurement to her palms, like healed over burn scars. You try not to look at them too long, especially when the woman seems to become more uncomfortable the more you study them. You wonder if she’s alright. Your fingers start itching in your gloves.

“Yeah, that does look pretty nasty, I can see why you came in.” You try to smile reassuringly, but something about the woman’s scared demeanor is making you uneasy. “But, that’s pretty much the extent of my duties before I send a radiologist to come get you.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

You’re about to walk out, about to turn away and finally go home, but then she sucks in a sharp breath. When you look at her, she’s wrapping her wrist up again, and her pain is written clearly across her face. Your fingers itch trails of fire, and you find the decision is made almost immediately. You’re nearing her again, smiling gently, and thanking the hospital for lettings you use your quirk entirely up to your own discretion.

“That must hurt pretty bad, doesn’t it?” You start softly, pulling your gloves off. You move to the sink, washing your hands before you address her again. “I can help- my quirk, it lets me relieve others of their pain. If you would like me to, I would be happy to provide you with at least a little relief.”

“No- I- an old woman like me isn’t worth the fuss. Really! Don’t feel like you have to trouble yourself!”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” You smile back at her, pulling up a stool and sitting on it. “This is my job after all, and I’d be happy to help. If you would like me to, all I have to do is touch your hand. It’ll be instantaneous.”

“You’re sure?” She asks, eyes crinkling a little unsurely. She’s trapping her injured wrist to her chest again, hope coloring her voice. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. It’d be my pleasure.”

The woman nods, holding her hand forward. You smile reassuringly again, reaching for her. You stop just a few inches away.

“I just wanted to let you know- a lot of previous patients have said that everything goes green when I help them. I’m not saying this to scare you, as I’ve actually been told it’s quite pleasant, but I just wanted to tell you beforehand.”

She nods, and you take her hand, closing your eyes as you focus.

You feel it immediately. An ache in your wrist that throbs with every beat of your heart. It’s familiar, you’ve felt a break like this before, but the feeling that swallow you up next isn’t. It’s a sickness coiling in your stomach, dripping through your veins and running viscous like a slow poison. It’s like you’re being boiled alive- all of your sinew and muscle falling apart and being sewn back together. All in the span of a second. It leaves you dizzy, reeling, sick and nauseous when you release her hand.

“My- that is some quirk.” The woman marvels, flexing the fingers on her injured wrist. She does so without pain, and looks at you, a wide smile across her face. “That is very impressive. And, you were right. Green. It’s all green.”

“I- Yeah.” You try to recover, hiding your breathlessness behind a hand itching at your chin. “Of course. Your very welcome.”

“You must be able to help so many people. You must be a very good nurse with that quirk.”

“I-I’d like to think so.”

“You know,” She says suddenly, and her tone is nearly devoid of all the meekness she had walked in with. She looks brighter, livelier. “My husband and I run a facility to help grow people like you.”

“People like me?”

“Yes, dear. Those with extrordinary potential who might just need a little push.” She smiles gently, grabbing her bag at her feet. Rifling through it with her good hand, she pulls out an index card. “I’m sure your quirk is plently strong all on it’s own, I’ve certainly seen that, but if you ever wanted a little help- well, we’d be more than happy to have you.”

Then she’s pressing a business card into your hand, turning to face the sound of the door as it opens. The radiologist walks in, gesturing for her and she follows behind him gracefully. The woman leaves behind her a trail of perfume, like lavender and lilies in your nose, and then door is then shut. It seems she is leaving you just as quickly as she’d arrived.

The card in your hand feels heavy, weighty as you flip it between your fingers.

Center for Quirk Advancement

You almost couldn’t believe your luck. You had just been talking about ways to strengthen your quirk, and, as it turns out, life really did decide to let you off the hook for once. You think it’s justly deserved- it did seem pretty intent on saddling you with Bakugou, after all. Maybe it’s a strange sort of cosmic reward?

Either way, you slide the card into your bag, smiling to yourself. A part of you still feels uneasy, still sick after what you’d experienced from her, but she seemed nice enough. It made the poisonous feeling almost a little too easy to brush off.

You pack up your things, and you can feel the exhaustion creeping in. By the time you’ve gone grocery shopping and have finally made it back home, your arms loaded up with bags, you feel dead on your feet. The familiar tiredness seeps into your bones, but you blink yourself awake, determined to put the groceries away before you pass out. You brace your head in your hands. If something didn’t wake you up soon, you really would be asleep in front of your fridge.

“Oi- shitty leech!” You hear screaming, knuckles against glass and an irritatingly familiar rasp. “Let me in! Shitty leech!”

Oh- joy. Seems like something did wake you up. What was that you were saying about a cosmic reward again?

When you turn around, Bakugou is standing on your balcony, shifting impatiently on his feet. His expression is skewed up something nasty as he taps on the glass once more. He’s shouting your name, well, nickname, clad in sweats and stomping dramatically just a few feet away- you think he’s almost better left outside. Then you recognize the goosebumps on his arms and the red of his cheeks. It’s cold outside, you know it, and you curse your own heart once more, trudging dutifully over to the door.

“Wow, only a week since I’ve last seen you. And you look awfully uninjured today, don’t you?” You say, yawning as you pull the door open a fraction. Just enough to peek your head out into the cool night air. “No blood or anything. Good on you, Bakugou.”

“Shut the fuck up, leech. I was bein’ nice for once.”

“Yes- because shouting ‘Oi- shitty leech’ at me from my balcony was nice.” You roll your eyes, pulling the door open enough for him to walk through. “But sure, come in, make yourself right at home.”

“Gladly.”

You just shake your head at his curt tone, turning back to the kitchen to resume putting away your things. You’re just barely organizing vegetables away in the fridge, when you hear him stomp up behind you.

“Fuck are you doing?”

“Groceries?”

“No, idiot, I meant why’re you doing it now?”

“Because this when I have time to do it? And I just went shopping?” You ask him, bewildered, and confused. You’re tired and his mind games really aren’t amusing you right now. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question.”

“Are you-“ Bakugou swears under his breath, turning his nose up at you. “Jesus you really are stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. Why the hell would you go grocery shopping at 1 AM?”

“Because that’s when my shift ends, you asshole. Actually, you know what, no- I absolutely do not have to defend myself to you!” You sneer right back, whirling around to face him. Suddenly you find you’re not very tired anymore. “It’s really none of your business why I do anything, let alone when I do it so if you think that maybe you want to open your mouth again to me- don’t. And I-“

“Not like that. God, you’re fuckin’ clueless. I don’t give a shit what you do, but you do realize you can’t outrun somebody with your arms full of groceries right?”

The stunted look on your face must frustrate him, because then he’s huffing, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before dragging his hand down his face.

“You seriously didn’t think about that? You fuckin’ kidding me? Jesus fuck I should’ve know, you’re so stupid.” He breathes out, rolling his eyes. “If I saw you fumbling around like an idiot, on a dark street, in the middle of the night? When you can’t outrun me because you’ve got all those shitty fuckin’ bags? Please, even I’d be attempted to attack you. You’re making it too fuckin’ easy for those weirdos, you moron.”

Is that- is that concern lacing his features? Bakugou’s brow is creased, and if you didn’t know any better you’d almost say he sounded more exasperated than outright angry with you- but you did know better. Of course you did. Believing that Bakugou regarded you with anything but begrudgingly familiarity would be foolish.

“Okay, well than you can take that argument up with my superiors.” You purse your lips, biting back another yawn. “Until then I guess I’ll just keep going out entirely defenseless and vulnerable. Lord knows that’s apparently how you see me.”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself, leech. I see everyone as defenseless and vulnerable. You’re not special.”

“Mhm, I’m sure I’m not.” You mutter, turning back to your fridge, to put more food away. “But, really, if you have such a problem, then you can figure out how to stop all the ‘weirdos’ before they get me. Isn’t that literally your job?”

Bakugou just sighs at your remark, looking very put-on. Then he clenches his fists up, eyes determined focused on the ground. “Just- fuckin’- just tell me when you’re going next time. Stupid idiot woman.”

Truthfully, you want to give him shit. You do, because there were so many nicer ways he could’ve shown concern-but you don’t. One look at his flushed face and insecure body language has you relenting. And being way nicer than he deserves. You are pretty tried after all.

“Yeah. Okay, but you’re carrying all the bags, Bakugou.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Or I’ll just go without telling you, and then we can catch up when I’m bleeding out in the street.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a joke. It was an incentive.” You smile cheekily, then you point to the bags left on the counter. “Now be a dear and unbag those for me, would you?”

“Fuck you.”

Bakugou seethes but he moves anyway, unbagging all your groceries with an absolutely unnecessary amount of force. It’s like he’s picking a fight with each plastic bag, and you try to hide your giggles.

It’s a strange little domesticity, but as weird as it is, it’s nice too. You’re still tired but things are moving much faster now, with him handing you items relatively quietly. All things considered, Bakugou did seem to be in a good mood (well, a good mood for him) and, you supposed it was nice to see him uninjured. And would’ve been totally great, totally perfect- if you didn’t turn around to see him plucking a piece of paper out of your purse.

“Fuck is this shit?”

“Are you- stop. No. Don’t just go digging around in my stuff!” You huff tiredly, grabbing your purse from him with one hand snatching the card out of his grip with the other. “You’re being rude.”

“And you’re being fuckin’ evasive. So spill it, leech, the hell is it?”

“None of your business, that’s what!”

Bakugou just rolls his eyes, plucking the paper from out of your hand with little effort. You’d like to chalk up your loss to being surprised, but no, he really is just that strong.

“Hell is this?” He asks, grumbling as he flips the card over. “Center for Quirk Advancement?”

“Yeah. That’s what it says. Asshole.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the hell do you have it?” He stares, squinting at you like you’re an idiot. “Looks fake as shit. Get rid of it.”

You can’t believe him. Seriously. You cannot believe him. There has never been one moment, in your entire life, that you would ever feel comfortable enough to dig through someone’s things- let alone ridicule them on the spot about it. It’s pure, unbridled insanity.

“I’m not- Bakugou, I’m not getting rid of something just because you said so!” You exhale, arms crossing around your stomach as you lean back against the counter. “It’s from that woman I saw today, alright? A patient.”

“Doesn’t smell right.”

“Doesn’t- What are you? A dog?”

“No. Fuck no.” He grumbles in defense, while simultaneously scrunching up his nose and barring his sharp canines. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t fuckin’ feel right.”

“Okay, well you weren’t there, so how would you know?”

“Because this company name is bullshit. It’s stupid as fuck and I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Okay? And? There’s a million stupid companies I’ve never head of before, and I don’t immediately think they’re fake!” You stride over to him, snatching the card back from his fingers. “And you know why? Because that’s paranoia. Blatant paranoia! The world doesn’t revolve around you and your knowledge, you know?”

“God, you’re so fucking dumb.” He laughs under his breath. “It’s killing me, leech. Can you really not see how shady that shit is?”

“No? Because it’s just a business card? A business card that was given to me by a kind old lady- and, why are you- no! Stop! Bakugou!”

He just rolls his eyes once more at your yell, tearing the business card in half easily. Apparently, he’s still not satisfied, because then he’s tearing those halves in half and tearing those fourths into eights, and shredding the paper entirely on your counter.

“Can’t call ‘em now, leech.” He says evenly.

You think you could scream, maybe even murder him right where he stands. Not necessarily in that order.

“Okay. No. No.” You reprimand, nearing him with determined steps. “You are not going to just walk in here and tear up things when you feel like it! That’s incredibly rude, for one, and-“

“What, so you were actually gonna call ‘em?”

“No! But that’s not even the point! The point is, you cannot just walk in here and feel free to do whatever you want! I don’t know how it is everywhere, but here, in my house, there are manners! Manners which I expect you to have, and that means you can’t just treat my things like that! It’s disrespectful and I will kick you out if you try it again. Understand? Play nice, Bakugou.”

He pinches his face into a scowl, squinting at you from just a few feet away. It looks like he’s sucked on a lemon. Then Bakugou’s scoffing, gathering the shreds of paper into his palms.

“Here. Take ‘em then, leech.” He growls, pressing them into your outstretched hand. “Since they mean so fuckin’ much to you.”

“It’s- oh my god. Oh my god, you really don’t understand what the problem here is do you?”

“No. It’s a piece of shitty paper. Who the fuck cares?”

“Me!” You nearly shriek, letting the paper fall through your fingers and back onto the countertop. “I care! It’s my house and all the things in here are my things! So, you either apologize, and I can be way more lenient than you deserve and forgive you, or you can walk yourself out.”

Bakugou leans forward, shoulders broad and intimdating as he stares down at you. You glare right back, unwilling to lose. He was in the wrong here- not you. A few seconds pass and then he’s throwing himself back against the, hands braced behind him.

“God, fuckin’ seriously? You want me to say sorry? For that shit?”

“Hmm, for walking into my house, in the middle of the night just to tear up my things?” You nearly screech at him. “Yeah! Yeah. I do.”

“You’re annoying. This is annoying. But fine. Whatever. I’m sorry. You happy now?”

“No, actually, not even a little bit.”

Then your stomping back to the remainder of your groceries, putting them away sloppily and not really caring much to organize them. You were tired before, exhausted from using your quirk, and now? With Bakugou needling you in your own kitchen? You were beat.

“What’s wrong with your face, leech?”

Spinning on your heels, you clenching your jaw tightly. You’re gonna throw him out. He’s just asking for it at this point.

Bakugou seems to pick up on your vexation, and he, to his credit, relents a little. By looking the slightest bit sheepish, for all of one second, before wiping it away into a scowl.

“I meant- why the hell do you look like that?” He grumbles, “All fuckin’ dead inside. You look terrible.”

“I- god, there are so many problems with that statement. So many. That I will not be getting into because it isn’t even worth the effort and I-“ You rant, red in the face before you take a calming breath.

It takes a second to center yourself, but you do- because cleaning up his blood would just further deplete your tank already running on empty.

“Okay- Bakugou, have had a long day, a long one. So if you have any other little mean comments you’d like to spew, don’t, alright? Because I swear to god I will euthanize you right where you stand if you open up your mouth one more time.”

He just blinks, once, twice, tilts his head to the side. Bakugou squints, rolling his shoulders back before a slow smile creeps across his face.

“Oi- you used your quirk, didn’t you? Shitty leech.” His tone is devoid of any real venom, slight amusement coloring his words. “I didn’t know it made you so fuckin’ cranky.”

“Are you making fun of me? Right now? After what I just said to you?”

Bakugou just shrugs, flicking all the lights off in your kitchen. He doesn’t even wait for the room to fall into darkness before he’s leaving, not even looking back to see if you would follow. Of course, you had to, because your bedroom was past the living room, but you almost wanted to stay rooted where you were. Just to see his frustration when you weren’t listening to him.

“You shouldn’t use your quirk just because someone tells you to.” Bakugou says, dropping himself onto your couch. “Shit’s weak. ‘s how you get burnt out.”

“Oh, whatever. And she didn’t tell me to do it.”

“So, what, you’re telling me you chose to do it? Knowing it’d wipe you the fuck out?”

“Yeah. She needed help.” You say softly, dropping down into the opposite side of the couch. You try not to get too comfortable, but you find yourself sinking into the cushions anyway. “I’m not done till I’m on the floor. Or unconscious. Kind of which ever comes first at this point.”

“Jesus. Somebody oughta put you on a fuckin’ leash. That’s stupid as shit.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk.” You mock, eyes sliding lazily over to his. “Mr. ‘Let me kill myself without sleep for 3 weeks straight and then show up half dead at Y/n’s hou-“

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Your name is Y/n.”

“Yes? Did we not already know that?”

“No.”

You blink your eyes open entirely, flopping sideways to face him. Bakugou is smirking openingly, lips pulled back into something disarming and shit-eating.

“You fucker.” You seethe, scrunching your eyebrows together. “You’re telling me, this entire fucking whole time, that you didn’t know my name? My name! That’s my goddamn name, you shit! And you didn’t even think to ask? What the fuck?”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“Swearin’ a lot. It’s disrespectful as shit.”

“Me? I’m the one swearing? Fuck you! You swear all the time, and it’s really funny to me that you’re even running your mouth right now considering you didn’t know my name until a minute ago! You’ve slept on my couch! Multiple times! And you didn’t think, not even for a measly little second, to ask my name and- are you laughing right now?”

Bakugou is rested against the arm of your couch, one hand across his stomach and the other covering his chin. There’s no sound, he’s trying to keep quiet, but you can see his eyes. They’re crinkled up. Almost entirely closed into little slits. He’s laughing.

“Do you want to be kicked out? Seriously? Do you want to be kicked out on your ass right now? I’ll do it! I’ll fucking do it, I swear- try me again! Stop laughing, you jerk!”

“I’m not.” Bakugou tries, doing a horrible job of covering up that he is, in fact, laughing. “Ya get so fuckin’ mad, leech. Shit’s hilarious.”

“Wow, really, me? Mad? No- see,why would I be mad about you not knowing my name? After knowing each other for months. Why would I be mad about that?”

Bakugou eventually does sober, but you still he still looks a little brighter than you’ve ever seen him. It hits you then that the only color you’d ever seen in his cheeks, at least before then, was dripping blood.

““s fine. Doesn’t matter anyway.” He says, voice deceivingly light. “Your name’s leech. Don’t really give a shit what’s on your birth certificate.”

You just sit up, grabbing the pillow behind you and launching it at him. Bakugou catches it, because of course he does, and throws it right back. When it hits you it feels like you’ve been socked in the face. Because he is an asshole. An asshole who can’t play nice to save his life.

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Bakugou.” You say matter-of-factly, swiping the stray hairs from your face. You stand from the couch, glaring down at him. “I really hope you enjoy tossing and turning all night because I am not helping you.”

“Yes you will.”

“What? Making orders again? It didn’t work the first time and it’s not going to work now.”

“Nah. Don’t need to.” He says confidently, grabbing the blanket off the back of your couch. A smirk lies across his face, one you want to slap off. “You’ll help me. Because you’re too fuckin’ nice right?”

Then he’s flopping back against the pillow, sprawling his legs out and settling the blanket up to his shoulders. Bakugou looks at you expectantly, that same irritating grin still plastered on his mouth, and you want to hit him all over again.

Because he’s right. You are too nice, and you are too forgiving, and unfortunately the everything and everyone you care about includes him. It’ll always include him, even when he insists on being an exasperating child.

“Fine, go to sleep then.” You’re pulling a glove off, nearing the back of the couch with your own devious grin. “Go to sleep.”

You lean over him, bringing your hand down to flick his forehead. He catches you, of course he does, just like that fucking pillow. Bakugou traps your wrist in his grip, his grin only growing wider. You think it softens a little too- just a bit, but then again, the lighting in your living room wasn’t that great.

“Got you. Leech.” He goads lowly, tapping his thumb against the base of your wrist. “Should’ve been faster. Shit was fucking pathetic.”

“No, you’re just a freak, with weird reflexes.” You pull back, but he doesn’t seem to be letting go. Whatever it is he’s basking in, he looks a little too prideful for your liking. “Let me go- or I use my quirk on you.”

Then he’s throwing your wrist back in your face, applying so much force that you almost knock yourself out. You stumble back, grasping on to the back of the couch for stability. When you look down at him again, Bakugou is blushing but you’re not really sure why. You shake it off- it’s his problem not yours.

“Well, there, since you insisted on being a little shit, that’s all the skin-to-skin contact you’re getting from me.” You sniff, flicking off the light behind the couch. “Better pray it’s enough to send your impudent ass to sleep.”

“Stop swearin’.”

“I swear when I’m angry and-”

“I make you angry?”

“Yes!”

Bakugou just seems to almost- smile? It’s a tiny thing, curled up against the edge of his lip for all of a moment before he’s smoothing it out again. You’re about to turn away, to finally go to sleep, when he speaks again.

“Oi- shitty leach. You’re not gonna call ‘em right?” He slurs, voice raspy. “Right?”

“No? I wasn’t? But now I can’t because somebody tore up the paper.”

“Do it again if I fuckin’ have to.”

“Why’re you so concerned about it anyway?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Go to fuck to sleep.”

Then he’s out, giving into sleep and snoring into the cushions. His breathing is deep and even, mellow and relaxed, and you realize that’s all you’re getting from him tonight.

It’s not until you’re settling in bed, just on the verge of drifting, that you realize it. When Bakugou grabbed your wrist- no fire. Warmth and anger on the likes of which you’d never experienced before, sure, but no searing fire.

You wonder if he somehow forgot to put his angry pants on that day.

-/-

pls this is not edited i am so sorry ahahah

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9 @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02

208 notes · View notes

skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

Always | Draco Malfoy

M A S T E R L I S T Harry Potter Masterlist

smut requested requests info

wow I got such an amazing response to Part 1, thank you! So here is the highly requested Part 2! Enjoy :) also I miiight have listened to the Lion King soundtrack (this song specifically) while writing this?? I know that doesn’t make sense but it’s what was making me feel creative don’t judge me. Part 3 maybe? ;)

Part 2/10 (Part 1)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)(Part 9)(Part 10)

also there aren’t enough words in the English language to describe the amount of love I have for Draco Malfoy. I’ve been reading these books and watching the movies since I was like 3 or 4 years old (I’m not even kidding). I always connected so deeply with Draco, I truly adore him. And while Tom Felton did an excellent job as Draco, it really is the character I’m in love with.

Read Part 3 here!

Missed Part 1? Catch up here!

Nothing felt right, and you didn’t know why. Everything just felt, off. The looks you were getting from Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t help either. You tried to keep your focus on the parchment in front of you, but the look Hermione was giving you was starting to irritate you.

“What?” You asked impatiently, looking up at her and thoroughly startling her. She quickly shook her head before you packed away all your things and pushed out of the common room. They all looked at you with pity or concern, and the fact that they’re worried isn’t what annoys you. It’s that you don’t know why they’re worried. You felt emotion swelling in your chest and you don’t know why. Dammit! What’s the matter with you? You furiously wipe away tears, desperately wishing you knew what was going on lately. You followed the direction your feet took you and found yourself nearing the top of the astronomy tower.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize anyone was here.” You mumbled uncomfortably when you noticed somebody leaning against the railing. He doesn’t answer, but by the glimpse of white blonde hair atop his head you know who it is. Draco Malfoy.

You feel the urge to speak to him but you don’t know what to say. “It’s fine, I was just leaving.” He says gruffly, his face void of emotion as he turns to head to the stairs. You watch him go down the stairs and your feet are moving before you can stop them, “you don’t have to go. I don’t mind if you stay.” You say softly, a blush searing over your cheeks. Draco’s eyes flutter across your face before laughing bitterly. “I’d rather not, you’re nothing more than a filthy mudblood.” He spat, with something you couldn’t understand gleaming in his eyes. You flinched, recoiling from him before turning back up the stairs- wiping tears from your eyes. You don’t know how you let yourself forget how cruel he is, how unloving. You won’t make that mistake again.

Draco turns down the stairs, his throat closing as he blinks hot tears from his eyes. You have no idea how badly he wants to hold you, to press his lips to yours and tell you how much he loves you. But he’s a Death Eater and you’re related to Harry Potter. Being with you, even in the same room as you, is too dangerous. Draco just feels numb, and he doesn’t want to feel anything anymore.

Harry knows sooner or later he’s going to have to ask Malfoy what on Earth happened to you. One second you’re crying into Harry’s shoulder about how you feel like you’re losing Draco and then that evening you’re your usual bubbly self, laughing and doing your work and saying ‘Draco who?’ If Draco altered your memories like Harry feared he did, he wants to know why. The only reason Harry isn’t angry is because he knows how much you mean to Draco, so if Draco changed your memories then he must have thought doing so would keep you safe.

You lean against the railing, feeling a weird sense of deja vu as you turn to press the railing to your back. Your hand curls around the cool metal railing, looking straight ahead of you at someone you feel should be standing there. It feels like an itch at the back of your head that you can’t scratch, just bugging you constantly. Something is wrong. You want to know what it is. You hear footsteps up the stairs and when you lock eyes with Blaise Zabini, surprised is an understatement. “Blaise?” Your voice comes out at a question, and he offers you a half-cocked smile. In truth he’s always had a thing for you, and now that you and Draco aren’t together anymore he assumes you’re fair game.

“Nice night,” He comments off offhandedly. You nod with a slight blush, Blaise is cute. He’s certainly not the most attractive person in this school, annoyingly Draco is probably the best looking man in this school. Despite his cruel remarks. Blaise comes to stand next to you, slightly closer than you’re comfortable with. “So I’ve been meaning to ask you something, since you and Draco aren’t together anymore,” He starts and you furrow your eyebrows together. You and Draco?

“There never was a me and Draco.” You correct, confusion in your tone. The confusion on Blaise’s face is unmistakable but he chooses not to say anything.

“Right, so I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to got to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow.” Blaise asks, letting his eyes drift down your body briefly. In all honesty, you hadn’t ever given Blaise much thought all you knew was that he was part of Draco’s group of bullies. “Uh sure.” You answer uncertainly, it could be fun? You’d never been to Hogsmeade with anything except for that one time with Harry when the two of you sneaked into Hogsmeade through Honeydukes cellar. It would give you a chance to know Blaise better, maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed.

The portrait closed behind Blaise as he’d entered the common room, a look of smug victory strew on his face. “Hey Draco, I asked Y/N to Hogsmeade, hope you don’t mind.” Draco stiffened immediately. His eyebrows furrowed together and a pit formed in the bottom of his stomach, “what?” Draco’s voice was tense as he turned to look at Blaise. His first reaction was to lash out violently, but then Draco took a deep breath. As far as he knew, Blaise wasn’t a Death Eater and neither were his parents. Being with Blaise could keep you safe, so despite how every single cell in Draco’s body wanted to strangle the life out Blaise, he turned back in his chair. “Okay.” Is the only word Draco could manage, much to Blaise’s surprise. He wasn’t expecting Draco to be alright with it.

His heart feels like it’s being squeezed in his chest, but Draco simply stands from the couch placed in front of the fireplace and heads up to his bed. He can’t bare the thought of Blaise’s hands or lips on you.

The next afternoon you’re stood in the courtyard outside the main entrance waiting for Blaise. You regret agreeing to go, Blaise makes you feel a little uneasy. When you look up again, your eyes lock with Draco’s and you feel your entire body heat up. You can’t seem to look away as he strides past you with Pansy walking with him. You ignore the nausea in your stomach when you see her laugh and grab Draco’s arm, why did that bother you so much? Seeing them together never bothered you before a few weeks ago. You tried to clear your head when Blaise approaches you with a wide smile on his face before taking your hand to lead you down to the train station.

Hogsmeade was beautiful during the winter, with all the snow falling upon the roofs and the cobblestone streets. You let your eyes drift over to Draco, who has his eyes pointed up at the sky and a small smile spread across his face. He looks deep in thought, almost as though he’s remembering something nobody else does. There is a tint of pink across his pale cheeks, and his nose is rosy from the cold. You snap your attention back to Blaise when you feel him tap on your shoulder, “look if you have a thing for Draco still...” He trails off and you vigorously shake your head. Still?

You might be able to make the mind forget things, but the heart will always remember.

“S-Sorry.” You stammer nervously and a sigh escapes Blaise’s lips before he smiles again. He takes your hand and leads you away from Draco and Pansy, towards the Shrieking Shack. You take the snowy path down to the Shrieking Shack, the silence between you and Blaise awkward and uncomfortable. You stop at the fence, the Shrieking Shack actually looks quite beautiful against the snowy backdrop behind it. “Cold?” Blaise asks, lifting his arms to wrap them around you. You smile awkwardly, while you are cold you’d rather not have Blaise’s arms around you. You don’t know why you feel so repulsed by Blaise, he’s been nice and he’s good looking. It just feels so insanely wrong.

Blaise wraps his arms around you before reaching over to turn your head towards him. You close your eyes and brace when you see him leaning in, and soon you feel his lips press against yours. Well this isn’t so bad. It doesn’t send tingles through your body or give you butterflies. It’s nice, not amazing and not bad. You wouldn’t willingly do it again though, but you doubt you’ll fight him if he chooses to kiss you again. As soon as the two of you part, you pull away from him with a nervous smile. Why do you feel so nauseous? It’s almost as though you feel guilty.

Draco’s heart had fallen far beneath him and into the fiery pits of hell, he was sure of it. He watched Blaise press his lips to yours, and while you didn’t melt into Blaise the way you did with Draco, you still didn’t reject him. Draco leaned against one of the trees, feeling the onslaught of tears surging up his chest with little he could do to stop it. He slid down the tree to sit on the wet and snowy ground, bringing his knees to his chest he lowered his head and did his best to blink the tears away, but they just kept falling. Draco heard Pansy calling his name in the distance, he’d managed to shake her somewhere on the path. He couldn’t bring himself to move, he didn’t want to move. This was by far the most painful thing he’s ever had to do- watching you with Blaise didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the way you looked at Draco.

You were the only person to truly see him, now nobody did. He’s never felt so alone.

You’d begun to see Blaise more often, and you actually kind of liked him. He was sweet, and per your request he stopped bringing up Draco. Although you’re confused as to why he brought Draco up in the first place. You’d spent a lot of time with him in the Library, helping him study for Arithmancy. Blaise had said his Father told him to take more advanced classes, and when it came to Arithmancy, he was clueless. You however were very good at Arithmancy, so you’ve been helping him study. You and Blaise will take evening walks along the Rickety Bridge, talking about how creepy he found Professor Binns to be. Blaise was nice, but despite the hand holding, the kissing, the fooling around he still felt like a friend at best.

You have not slept with him yet, for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to go all the way with Blaise. You’d be kissing, taking off clothes, and then it’s like an alarm goes off in your head and you have to stop. You’ll feel tears building at the backs of your eyes, and every cell in your body would be screaming at you because of how wrong it is. You just wished you knew why it felt so wrong.

You knew that’s how tonight was going to end. You sat by the edge of the Black Lake with Blaise, watching as the Lake monster dug around for gifts to give you. Blaise found your friendship with the Lake monster unsettling, and weird. You always rolled your eyes when he told you not to accept the things the monster gave you, but you found the Lake monster to be deeply misunderstood. Dennis Creevey had fallen into the Black Lake during his first year here, and the Lake monster carefully lifted him out of the water and placed him back inside the boat. Still Blaise refused to see it as anything other than a monster, which sort of bugged you. Oddly enough, the Lake monster didn’t seem to like Blaise either. Blaise leaned back against the truck of a large tree, with you leaning back against his chest in between his legs.

Harry did not approve of your relationship with Blaise at all, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. You tend not to judge Slytherin’s as quickly as the others and sometimes you wondered if you really belonged in Hufflepuff instead of Gryffindor. There were moments, like now, where you did not feel brave at all. Instead your kindness took over and you would often push down feelings of discomfort in order to please other people. You were feeling rather uncomfortable with the way that Blaise’s hand was slowly sliding lower down your abdomen, towards the hem of your skirt. You bit your bottom lip to avoid saying something, maybe if you just forced yourself to do it then you wouldn’t feel this way anymore. It would be your first time having sex, maybe that’s why you’re so nervous about it.

So when Blaise dips his hand into your skirt, you don’t fight him. It’s easily the worst decision you’ve ever made.

It was awful, it didn’t hurt but the entire time you were clinging to him and keeping your face pressed to his neck so he wouldn’t see the tears. You felt a horrible heavy feeling all over your entire body, your stomach was twisting. You felt as though you should drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness, but you didn’t know why. You felt such overwhelming guilt it felt like it was suffocating you, you have to break up with Blaise. Something is very wrong with you, and you can’t lead him on while constantly trying to avoid any physical contact with him. You didn’t even cum, you didn’t want to.

When Blaise rolled off you, he smiled at you and you forced a smile back. “Thought you said you were a virgin?” He questioned and you nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this.

“I am.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged and you only blinked at him before reaching for your clothes. You felt far too exposed. You didn’t want Blaise to see your naked body any longer than he had to. You refused to meet his eye, and when Blaise placed a hand on your shoulder you slowly turned to face him, exposing your tear stained cheeks. “Woah, baby what’s wrong?” He asked, his arms reaching to pull you close to him, but you shrugged him off.

“Blaise I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t be with you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, you haven’t done anything I just want to be alone.” You gasped through tears, wanting more than anything to be left alone with your Lake friend. Blaise’s eyebrows pinched together in anger, scowling down at you. He quickly turned and began to pull his clothes on, “I can’t believe you Y/N. You’re just a stupid whore mudblood.” He seethed, and you flinched. You felt tears running down your cheeks as he stood. Blaise turned to look at you once more, but his eyes flickered behind you. You turned to follow his gaze and saw the Lake monster reaching out to you, with something curled in it’s tentacle.

It was a small glass vial. It was whispering to you.

“Do you hear that?” You ask Blaise, as if you hadn’t been fighting with him 30 seconds prior. He doesn’t respond but with a quick glance you see he’s still there, his eyes transfixed on the bottle. You reached your palm out, letting the Lake monster drop the vial in your open hand, listening as it sounded as though someone was whispering your name from inside the vial. Who was that? It sounded like Draco. “I don’t hear anything, just toss it back. It’s a weird bottle.” Blaise huffed, crossing his arms. You shook your head, bringing the bottle up to your ear. There was unmistakably whispering.

“No, I can hear it. It’s calling out to me.” You say softly, your fingers reaching to un-stopper the vial. Shakily you reached up to take the stopper out, and the wispy blue liquid from inside flowed out into the open air before turning directly into your temple. It hit you like a train. A kaleidoscope of memories slammed into you at once. The steps, Hogsmeade, the Hospital bed, the Lake, Draco all of it came rushing back. The night he had taken your memories, the Dark Mark. It was like a dam broke open in your head, and the memories flowed back in like water. You gasped, stumbling back. Blaise immediately reached out to catch you, “D-Draco!” You stammered wildly, looking up at Blaise. All the moments over the last few weeks between you and Draco felt different now, and all the pieces fell into place. This is why being with Blaise felt so wrong, why everything felt wrong. You’re in love with Draco!

Oh God you had sex with Blaise.

“What did that stuff do to you? I think you need to see Madam Pomphrey.” Blaise began but you quickly shook your head, your palms trembling. You pulled away from Blaise, stumbling as you turned towards the castle. “No I need to see Draco.” You gasped, breaking out into a sprint as you headed for the castle. You heard Blaise calling your name but you ignored him, your feet pounding against the ground and the wind rushing in your ears. You felt tears flowing down your cheeks, you felt so many different emotions it felt like you were drowning in them. Draco has been alone this whole time, and you were forced to suffer you just didn’t know why you were suffering! You ran through the front doors of the castle into the main hall before turning right and sprinting down towards the dungeons, that’s where the Slytherin common room is.

You slid to a stop in front of the portrait key, you don’t know the password. It’s late, Draco has to be inside the common room or in his dorms. You pace around outside, waiting for any Slytherin to come out or go in. You released a frustrated sob as you tugged at your hair, and after about 30 minutes of nobody coming, not even Blaise, you turned towards the portrait door. You began to knock on the portrait door, “Draco!” You called his name as loudly as you could, you doubt he could hear you but you didn’t know what else to do. You sat there, pounding against the very irritated painting, that refused to open for you when finally Blaise came around the corner. He rolled his eyes when he saw you.

“Blaise, please can you get Draco?” You ask him but he laughs bitterly. He begins to stride to the portrait door but you stand in front of him, “why would I? You’re breaking up with me for him aren’t you?” He snaps, and you feel guilty as you look sheepishly up at him.

“Either get Draco or I’m following you into the common room.” You threaten, pulling your wand out. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to see Draco right now. Blaise rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, I just want you to leave me alone so fine.” Blaise snaps, whispering the password so that you wouldn’t hear before disappearing into the common room. You can only hope that he didn’t lie to you, and that he really will go get Draco. You pace around the hallway nervously, you’re not sure where you and Draco will go from here but all you know is that you need him right now.

Draco sat on his bed, he rubs his temples as the door swings open to reveal a very irritated looking Blaise. “Y/N dumped me.” He snapped and Draco merely nods, while turning so that Blaise wouldn’t see his victorious smile. Of course you dumped him, Blaise is not the type of guy you’d go for at all. He’s too cocky, too full of himself. You admire personality, and Blaise is all about looks. How good he looks, how good his girlfriend looks. He’s too superficial for you. “And she’s outside the common room asking for you.” Blaise adds after a few minutes of silence and Draco cocked an eyebrow. Why on Earth would you be asking for him? Noticing the look of confusion on Draco’s face, Blaise turns to him.

“We were down by the lake, and she found this weird bottle. As soon as she opened it she got all crazy and started saying your name.” Draco’s blood turns to ice in his veins as soon as the words leave Blaise’s mouth. You found your memories of him. Draco is trembling as he launches to his feet and nearly stumbles down the stairs. He’s trembling harder than he ever has as he pushes the portrait open, revealing you standing there. Wide eyed and teary as you lock eyes with him. You don’t even say anything, you launch yourself into his arms, crying softly against his shoulder. “Why- why?” You cry, you can barely speak and you’re grabbing him so tightly he’s worried you’ll break his ribs. The amount of relief that Draco feels having you here in his arms is surmountable to anything he’s felt before this, but the dread quickly follows behind.

Draco pulls away from you, but you refuse to let him go. You keep your hands clung tightly to his arms, “Draco why?” You cry, looking up at him with watery eyes. Draco keeps you at arms length from him, how is he going to explain stealing your memories from you? He never thought you’d get them back, he thought they’d sink to the bottom of the Lake... the Lake monster. “I was trying to keep you safe-” Draco began shakily but you quickly shake your head.

“Not that, your arm.” You gasp, looking down at the forearm that had the Dark Mark inked onto it. He fell silent, merely looking down at you, trembling and holding his hands as though he’d disappear if you let go. Suddenly you pressed yourself against him again, your lips finding his with desperate need. “Don’t care, right now I just need you Dray,” You gasped in between kisses. Your lips moved languidly with his and Draco’s arms wound around your waist, feeling as if he was home for the first time in weeks. Nodding quickly, Draco lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you off towards an abandoned classroom by the dungeons. Nobody comes down here, if only he’d discovered this earlier. You wouldn’t have had to have your first time by a Lake.

Draco pushes into the classroom, the door swinging shut behind him as his lips move with yours. Your fingernails bite into his shoulders as you grasp him tightly, gasping when Draco drops you onto a table. He stands in between your legs, his hands reaching up to cup your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. You whined against his lips, wriggling your hips closer to his. “Dray,” You begged, your hand sliding down his front to cup him through his pants. He groaned softly, his shaking hands quickly finding the bottom of your shirt and swiftly removing it. His pupils dilated upon seeing your bare breasts, his hands reaching up to cup the underside of each one. You throw your head back, your back arching into him as his lips wrap around one of your nipples.

Your hand winds into his hair, pulling him more firmly against you. “Fuck baby,” You moaned, grinding your hips into his. Draco works your nipple to a peak before doing the same to the other, and his mouth feels heavenly against you. “I missed you so much,” Draco whispered, pressing kisses in between your breasts. You sighed softly as he kissed down your body, removing each layer of clothing between his mouth and your wonderful heat as he went. Your back ached and you collapsed back against the table when Draco’s lips found your clit and wrapped around it, sucking and biting softly. Your hand curls around his shoulder as he slides two fingers into you, pumping slowly. You feel that coil of pleasure building in your pelvis, winding tighter and tighter. You begin to pant as Draco brings you up to that edge and with one flick of his tongue you’re cumming hard against him.

“Dray, I need you inside me. Now.” You gasp as you calm down, grabbing him to pull him back up to your lips. Draco nods frantically as his lips find yours, and his hands fumble with the button of his pants. Eventually the fabric is pushed down past his hips and Draco is lining himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in. His eyebrows furrow when he notices you’re not as tight as he was expecting, but when you press your lips to his neck he gets lost in your body and begins to thrust into you at a steady pace. Your forehead presses against his, your hands holding his body close to yours as your lips find his once more. You kiss him sloppily, slowly, pouring all the emotion you felt bottled up these last few weeks.

When you cum around him it feels like magic, it feels more perfect then anything else ever has. It feels right.

Draco carries you back to your common room, ignoring snickers from people passing by. He kisses you sweetly, “I love you.” You whisper to him, Draco smiles. “I love you too.” He says, kissing you again and again before finally turning back to his common room. There are tears in his eyes, he had a plan b from the very start. This is going to be harder on you then it will be for him, and honestly he’s scared of the person he’s going to become because of this. It was you that made him a better person, if he never met you he shudders to think the kind of person he’d be today. Guess everyone is going to find out.

Draco kneels in front of his bed, his wand in his hand, and a letter tied to his owls leg. The letter is addressed to you. Draco closes his eyes as he lifts the wand to his temple, and he concentrates on the memories he wants to remove. You underestimate just how far Draco would go to keep you safe, you really do need to stay away from him. Feeling a tear cascade down his cheek Draco takes one last shaky breath, letting himself remember you in a way he knows he never will again.

With another breath, and a tremble in his palm Draco opens his eyes.

“Obliviate.”

*** @justmesadgirl

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco x you #harry potter #harry potter smut #hogwarts #bittersweet smut #happy ending #blaise zabini #blaise x you #plot twist #cliffhanger #sorry not even remotely sorry

501 notes · View notes

narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Return to sender

CW: I’m bad at writing pregnancy stuff,

first part: here

previous part: here

Before you knew it, you'd been on your own for almost four months. God, it's been so long. You thought with a bit of fear as you drove home from the store in the swiftly waning light of evening, glancing at the passengers seat where bags of all of the supplies you had looked up for having a home birth. Which wasn't going to be fun, but going to a hospital meant paperwork and being kept in one place for an unknown amount of time, easily trackable, not to mention the hospital birth records would be perfectly accessible to the Zoldycks, meaning they could track down your baby. So, you were just going to bite the bullet and do it yourself. On the bright side, I have about 2 months to prepare and learn, so things will go great. You told yourself, sending a quick prayer to any god listening that you didn't face any complications, because you'd only gone to one doctor's appointment for the baby, and while it didn't show any bad omens for the birth, that had been ages ago, so you weren't really sure of how healthy your baby currently was. Though, some of that anxiety was more-so from the small changes you'd begun to notice in these last few weeks. It wasn't anything major, mostly cramping, more backpain, and exhaustion, but good ol' google had told you these may be signs of pregnancy. Hence the evening trip to the store for all of the things you lacked at home for a home birth. You hoped you were just being overly cautious, but you couldn't be too sure. Despite that though, you did your best to stay positive and just went about collecting your shopping as carefully as you could and waddling up to your nasty little apartment. You were pretty happy at the bottom of the stairs, on edge, as always when the place you lived had so many sketchy people that their aura seemed as engrained in the carpet as the mystery stains on your bedroom floor, but your mood instantly fell when you got to the top of the stairs. You stood there, heart racing, (e/c) eyes wide and frantically searching for any reason as to why you were suddenly so nervous. After all, you'd worked through this level of anxiety in your first month there, you should have a better handle on it than this, but then it clicked. It's too quiet. You realized, putting a hand on the banister to steady yourself as the dread hit you. Your apartment building was still bustling with noise, from neighbors having sex loudly, to someone's kids getting into a shrieking match, those noises were pretty mundane to you now, but something still felt too calm. Like that moment in movies right before the murderer attacks. Calm down, everything's fine. You told yourself, taking a deep breath or two to try and wait for the wave of paranoia to ebb. One of the neighbors probably just has some sort of guest over. Or maybe some strong nen user passed by, I'm sure it has a reasonable explanation. You continued to reassure yourself, but the feeling didn't pass. Some voice inside of you just kept screaming about something being way too off, maybe it was your survival instincts, maybe it was simply your paranoia acting up, either way you decided to trust your gut. So, you compromised with yourself. You gathered your bags and unlocked your apartment to place them in, ensuring they'd be safe when you returned tomorrow, than you made your way back down to the foyer as swiftly as you could manage while heavily pregnant.

"Are you alright, miss?" A man suddenly asked, making you yelp, but when you looked over, it was just some dark haired man with a cross-shaped tattoo of sorts on his forehead sitting at the guard's seat. You'd never seen him before, but you tried your best to not be impolite. At worst, he was some sort of spy for Illumi, but if he wasn't and he was just one of the many sketchy guards that worked for the apartment building, you still didn't want to offend him. So, you laughed a bit, clasping your hands over your stomach to hide how badly you were shaking, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized I'd forgotten something in my car, don't want it stolen." you said in a shakey but kind voice, which made the man snort a bit, "Would you like me to go out there for it? I promise not to steal anything," he offered, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief while he was oddly amused by his own words, but you shook your head, brushing any stray strands of (h/l), (h/c) hair from your face as you spoke, "No thank you, but I a-appreciate your offer." with that, you made a beeline for the door, swiftly stepping outside and taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. All at once, your anxiety began to wane, which you were immensely thankful for. Slowly, you let out a breath and waddled over to your car, ignoring the pinching cramping sensation that had plagued you for about a week now and just deciding to sit outside in your car for a while and maybe sleep there for the night since the upstairs of your building felt so weird. However, when you got to the vehicle, you pulled at the handle and nothing happened. When you tried a second time, the same thing happened, the door didn't budge. To make thing worse, you couldn't seem to find your keys when you checked your pockets. "Of course, it'd be just my luck that I'd lose my damned keys and lock myself out of my car." you muttered, leaning against the car and resting your head against the window, trying your best to think up a second alternative to going back inside when you heard it. The single voice you wanted to never hear again, "I must admit, you're a lot more resilient than I first thought." Illumi hummed, and before you could even think to react, he trapped you against the car, slamming his hands into the window so hard you heard it begin to crack. You shrieked and pressed your back against the car, less scared of getting cut on the glass than you were of Illumi, but instead of getting killed with his aura, or manhandled into some unmarked van, or hell, even being yelled at like you'd expected, you simply felt him brush a stray tear you didn't realize you'd shed from your (s/c) cheek, and when he did speak, he was as calm and unreadable as ever, "You had me highly worried these past few months," he said, pushing himself off of your car and looking you over, keeping one of his hands on you in some fashion the whole time, just in case you tried to bolt or fight him off, but you never did, you'd frozen in a mix of terror, defeat, and a dizzying sense of warped relief that nearly made you nauseous. "Now, you're coming home and we are going to have a nice, calm, talk about your mistake and how you can fix it." he said, grabbing you by the wrist to lead you away. However, when his words finally sunk in, you were filled with another sense of frantic determination, refusing to move as best you could while your (e/c) eyes welled with tears again, though that was more from the pain of Illumi tightening his grip on your poor captive wrist when you resisted. "No!" It came out a lot more forceful than you expected, "No! I don't want to go back a-and subject any child to whatever torture created you!" Finally, it was your words that earned a pause, and when you looked up to his face you saw a mixture of hurt, annoyance, and a shred of understanding flit across his doll-like facial feature ever so slightly. "(y/n), you need to calm down. You're growing hysterical and you're going to hurt yourself trying to fight me. Just relax and come home." He ordered, but you shook your head and continued to resist as best you could, which thankfully worked since the assassin didn't want to purposely hurt you "No! Just let me go, please! K-kill me if you must, but I don't want to go back!" you cried, and in a frantic attempt to get away, you pulled at your wrist as hard as you could, and by sheer luck, actually slipped through Illumi's grip. Sadly, your luck was spent with that last trick, so your attempts to get into the apartment building and maybe get help from the guard were quickly thwarted. Some part of you thought that maybe you could get away from Illumi Zoldyck again, but failed to realize he was a lot faster than you, even if you weren't about-to-burst pregnant. In a hope-crushing flash, he'd grabbed you again, wrapping his arms around your torso to yank you back against him and holding you there with one arm while his free hand captured your wrists to stop you from frantically flailing. "(y/n), if you do not calm down right now, I will get the doctor to use sedatives on you." he warned, his voice low and dripping with foreboding, which, if you had any fight left in you, washed it away like he had the first day of your escape. However, you'd gone still for another reason. "I-Illumi, let me go," you squeaked, your heart pounding so hard you didn't think you'd be able to hear his reply, "Absolutely not." He then tried to lift you up a bit so he could move you, but you wriggled "No! P-please listen, Illumi!" You plead, "I-I think my water just broke!"

#illumi x reader #sequel #x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #illumi zoldyck #outrunning obessessions #fanfiction #quotev #sequelette

52 notes · View notes

bellygunnr · 3 years

Text

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer.

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand.

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,” Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire.

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so...

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish.

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there.

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

#halo #sarah palmer #thomas lasky #roland the ai #palmsky

55 notes · View notes

delaber · 3 years

Text

Late

Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: this is my first time writing a fluffy fic. Also my first time writing about pregnancy. I usually stay the hell away from both but this request was just too sweet. Thank you @lonelydance. Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: pregnancy fic obviously.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand

It had started out innocently; you had only taken a small handful of the mozzarella cheese and it was just to get your screaming appetite to calm down, but before you had really had time to stop yourself, you had snacked the entire bag.

"Woops," you mumbled to yourself as you realised that you were standing with an empty bag in hand, still chewing on the last bit of cheese. Frantically, you searched the fridge, but quickly remembered that you had only bought one bag and that there was nothing to put on top of the homemade pizzas you had promised Rafa. You cast a sidelong glance towards the sofa where your boyfriend was breathing heavily in his sleep. He had been stressed from work all week and you hated that you had to wake him up and send him to the store for more cheese for the third night in a row - but he had been the one to insist on only buying one bag at a time after all.

As silently as possible, you tiptoed over to him, careful not to wake up Mía who was snoring beside you on the kitchen floor. She had been following you around all day - for some reason highly alert - without straying further away from you than a couple of feet. Although she was very cute, she had also been very annoying. Luckily, you managed to tiptoe your way out of the kitchen and into the living room without waking her.

You sat down next to Rafa on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, "Wake up, love," you kissed his forehead.

He shuffled a little, his eyes fluttering briefly before his eyelids fell back down, "five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily, "I just need to wake up. I'm so tired..."

"I know love," you ran your fingers through his hair one more time.

"Come here," he said and pulled you down to him, nuzzling against your neck, "mmmmh you smell so nice..."

You kissed his knuckles and pushed your backside up against his chest as you enjoyed the heat radiating off him. His lips quickly found your shoulder and he kissed you softly before he slipped a hand under your shirt and gently cupped your breast.

You yelped loudly at his touch and pulled away from him, apparently waking up Mía in the process. She came running into the living room, immediately by your side with a small growl.

"Am I not allowed to touch you anymore?" Rafa mumbled and kissed your neck, while Mía was snarling slightly on the floor in front of you.

"Of course you are. I'm just really sore today," you whispered and let Mía lick your arm to try and calm her down, "I don't know if I bruised a nipple or something."

"Oh, I'd love to give you an examination," Rafa smirked against your neck, "but in the meantime I'll just enjoy my other friend," his fingers pinched your other nipple.

"Aw fuck, Rafa! That's really sore too!" You said loudly, making Mía bark.

Rafa sat up straight and looked down at you, "babe, are you okay?" he asked, concern flooding his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just really sore," you said, carefully examining your breast with one hand while using the other to nuzzle Mía behind her ear to get her to stop barking.

"Do you need me to get you something?" Rafa asked, ignoring Mía completely.

"No I'm fine -" you hesitated but was reminded of your snacking problem, "actually... We kinda might've run out of cheese for the pizzas."

"I bought an entire bag yesterday," he arched an eyebrow at you.

"I - uhm - I accidentally ate it all."

"You ate it all?" He chuckled, "babe, I don't mind your snacking but you're eating all of our groceries these days. What's going on with you?"

"I guess I'm just really snack-ish," you laughed and got up from the sofa, determined to finish prepping for the pizzas. Mía was silently following close by.

"Alright, I'll run to the store," Rafa said as he walked over to the closet in the hallway and pulled on a pair of sneakers and his jacket. He took a look at Mía and decided to pull out her leash too.

"Mía," he whistled and waited patiently.

Mía was sitting on the floor beside you, and when she heard Rafa call her name, she turned her head slightly, shot him a lazy look but otherwise didn't move a muscle.

"Mía!" Rafa tried one more time, and even pulled out a small treat for her, but she didn't budge.

"What's the matter with you, girl," Rafa walked to her and put her on the leash, slightly tugging her towards the front door. Mía started barking like crazy and didn't move her legs at all, causing Rafa to accidentally pull her across the floor as she slid on her paws, "what the hell is the matter with you?!" He exclaimed, "you love going outside!"

He let go of the leash, and watched Mía take a few fast-paced strides back towards the kitchen, wagging her tail vigorously when she resumed her position next to you.

"Aw, boo," you said and petted her, "you don't want to leave me, do you?"

"She's been acting crazy all week," Rafa ran a hand through his beard, "did you notice? She stays close to you and she'll barely let me touch you."

"No," you laughed, "are you sure you're not just making this up because you're jealous that your two girls are getting along so well?"

"No, I'm serious," he said and took a step closer to you, "come here, I'll show you," he said and put his hands on your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

At the touch, Mía started barking once more but stopped as soon as Rafa stepped away from you.

"Look," he said and repeated his movements while Mía resumed her barking whenever he put his hands on you.

"What's up with you, girl?" Rafa said and petted Mía behind her ear, "you're being crazy. I can touch you but I can't touch my girlfriend? Are you jealous or something?" He mumbled.

He picked up the leash, stood up straight and started tugging on Mía once more. Still, her legs didn't budge.

"Here, let me try," you said and took the leash from Rafa's hands. "Come Mía," you said softly, and started walking towards the front door with Mía trodding loyally along beside you.

"Crazy dog," Rafa mumbled behind you.

"Aw boo," you laughed when you turned around and saw Rafa's crestfallen face, "are you sad you're not the alpha anymore?"

"No, I'm wondering if I should take her to the vet. Could you keep an eye on her while I run to the store? I'm not going to force her to come along, but if she's still weird when I come home later, I'm acting on it," he said and walked over to you with intentions of giving you a goodbye kiss.

Mía started snarling the minute he was within a two-foot radius from you.

"Okay Mía, you ass," he mumbled in defeat as he stepped away from you and out the door.

"You're being silly," you petted Mía when you were finally alone and went back into the kitchen to make your famous pizza sauce.

You were opening a can of tomatoes when a horrible stench hit you like a truck. Something in the kitchen was smelling all sweet and warm and for some reason, it made you nauseous. Had the can of tomatoes gone bad? Anxiously, you inched your face closer to the open can and gave it a small sniff. Without warning you felt the heartburn, the taste of sour stomach acid thick in your mouth. It was disgusting and you had to leave the kitchen to get away from the stench of the tomatoes. Mía followed you to the bathroom were you retched and emptied the contents of your stomach. You coughed a few times and noticed Mía whimpering beside you. You petted her while whispering, "I'm okay, love. I'm good."

Desperate to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth, you opened the cabinet to fetch the toothpaste that was located next to the tampons ...speaking of tampons - weren't you supposed to be using one right now? You looked at your watch to check the date; it was the 20th.

You were four days late.

And you were never late. Fuck!

You were staring at yourself in the mirror when it all fell into place; the excessive snacking, your sore nipples, Mia being overprotective, the nausea...

...It couldn't be because...

...Could it?

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. Were you imagining a slight bump? No, you couldn't be...

Slightly panicked, you knew you wouldn't be able to think of anything else before you'd made sure, so you pulled out your phone from your back pocket, and dialled up Rafa while your pulse was quickening with each passing second.

When he finally answered his phone he sounded cheerful, "don't worry! I bought two bags," he chuckled, "snack away, my love."

"No, Rafa, I need you to get me something else," you said nervously.

"Yeah? What's up?" he asked quietly, "is everything okay?"

"Could you grab me a - uh - a pregnancy test...?" you mumbled and buried your face in your hands without really knowing why.

Rafa went completely silent on the other end, "...what do you need a pregnancy test for?" He said slowly.

"Are you serious?"

"No - uhm - just a little surprised," it sounded as if he was giving himself a mental shake, "are you sure you're...?" His voice trailed off.

"That's what the test is for, love," you said quietly.

"Of course. Of course. I'll - uhm - I'll grab you one. ...Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Just hurry back here..." you whispered.

"I'll be as fast as I can," he mumbled before he hung up.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to imagine yourself pregnant. Carrying Rafa's child. Your future together. You hadn't been together that long. What if he didn't want this? What if you didn't want this?

How long you stood there, looking at yourself in the mirror while stroking your belly you had no idea but suddenly, you heard Rafa call for you from the hallway.

"Babe?" He sounded concerned, "where are you?"

"Bathroom," you called out to him and immediately, he came running.

"Are you - are you okay?" He panted.

You nodded, "yes. Are you?"

"A little surprised. We were so careful," he mumbled, "well apart from..."

"My birthday. I know," you sent him a look.

"Shit," he ran a hand through his hair, looking positively panicked.

"Rafa, are you okay?" You asked him carefully.

"Yes. I just don't know if I'm supposed to laugh or cry."

"Me neither," you said quietly, "I have no idea what I'm hoping for."

"We - we can talk about that later. Just... take the test," he handed you a small box.

"Now?"

"Yes," he nodded, "we have to know, right?"

"Okay," you said nervously. Of course you knew you needed to take it asap. You were just nervous about the result, "do you think you could give me some privacy?"

"I'm not leaving you," Rafa shook his head, "no chance."

"Well, if you want to strip away the very last piece of privacy between us," you said as you pulled down your shorts and sat down on the toilet.

"If you're pregnant, there are not going to be any secrets between your body and me anyway," he said slowly.

You pulled off the cap on the test and pulled it between your legs so you could pee on it.

"What do we do if it's positive?" You looked up at him as you flushed the toilet after you.

"We take it one step at a time," he nodded slowly.

"Okay," you whispered, still in a state of shock. Your heart was beating fast in your chest as you glanced at your watch, watching the seconds slowly tick by. "It's been a minute. We should check it," you picked up the test without looking at the result, "here, you do it..."

"Me? Are you sure?" He stammered.

"Yes, please Rafa. I can't do it," you whispered.

Rafa took the pregnancy test from you with a gulp and shot you a doe-eyed look before he turned his attention to the stick in his hand. Slowly, he turned it over so he could read the test result. At first, he was staring at the result with huge eyes, but slowly, his hand went to his lips and his eyes started watering.

"What does it say?" You said in a raspy voice even though you already knew.

Rafa looked up a you with a tender expression on his face, his eyes all soft and wetted with tears, "baby, you're pregnant..." he said quietly with the biggest smile on his face.

"We're having a baby?" You blinked a few times, your hands flying to your stomach. A weird bubbly feeling creeping up through your body.

"We're having a baby," he laughed and pulled you in for a bear hug, "oh my god, we're having a baby!"

And you immediately knew; this was happiness in its purest form.

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys #pregnancy fic

131 notes · View notes

dlwritings · 4 years

Text

Help in Three Phases | Tom Holland

masterlist found here

pairing - roommate!Tom x reader word count - 4,359 warnings - language, period talk, masturbation (f), use of vibrator, oral (f receiving), m/f sex A/N - idk I’m pmsing pretty bad and this is how I’m feeling so here we are

summary - Your period hits you in three phases, and after living with Tom for six months, he finally starts to catch on to what you need during each one.

You had been living with Tom for a long time, and you loved it. You got along really well and made the perfect pair of roommates. Growing up, the two of you had been best friends. When you wanted to move out of your parents’ house but couldn’t afford to live on your own yet, Tom felt it was only natural to offer up his spare bedroom. You’d only have to pay half the rent, and if you missed a month, Tom would have no difficulty covering for you.

There was only one problem that came from being so close to Tom, and that was your dating life. For years, guys wouldn’t approach you because they assumed you were with Tom. And when they found out you weren’t, they were scared away by the fact that you lived with him. It was completely infuriating. Yes, you had, from time to time, wondered what it might be like to cross that line with him, but you were just best friends, and you hated how much that hindered any option you had in the dating world. It grew especially frustrating during one specific time of the month.

You were two things when you were PMSing: irritable and clingy. Not a period cycle went by where you didn’t wish you were the weepy girl on her period. No. You were the pissy girl. You got mad at everything, and you knew you were the worst to be around. All of the problems started about three days before your period actually hit and didn’t end until three days later. So while most girls dealt with seven days of a period, you basically dealt with seven days of bleeding and six days of side effects. Thus, your period came in three phases.

Phase one.

The days before your period, you had cravings and mood swings. The first day you felt it coming this time around, you and Tom had just finished dinner, and you were eagerly anticipating digging into your ice cream that was waiting for you in the freezer. Only it wasn’t there. You felt your jaw and your fists clench in anger. “Thomas,” you started, “where’s my ice cream?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed from where he was loading the dishwasher.

“Where’s my ice cream?” you repeated, turning on your heel to face him. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You finished it two days ago,” he said.

“No I fucking did not,” you said. “I was specifically saving it for today.”

“Right,” Tom said slowly, “but then two nights ago, you got drunk and said to me, I was going to save this, but I’m gonna eat it now because -and I quote- fuck self control.”

“And you let me?” you snapped.

Tom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to argue with drunk (Y/N) about whether or not she should eat her ice cream.” You groaned dramatically, slammed the freezer door shut, and stormed off to your room.

The next day, you were having a saltier craving. You were sitting in bed, watching an episode of New Girl, when you suddenly started to crave nachos. You pushed yourself out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, getting a plate from the cupboard and opening a bag of tortilla chips. When you opened the fridge to get some shredded cheese, you could feel your face grow hot in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled to yourself. “This is easily the most frustrating fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“What’s going on?” Tom asked from his spot on the couch.

“We don’t have any fucking shredded cheese!” you huffed. “How do we not have shredded fucking cheese?”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckled.

“You’re going to wish Jesus Christ was here if we don’t get some shredded cheese in this house soon.”

The next day, on your way home from work, you stopped at the store to pick up some panty liners and chocolate. When you got home, you set the bag on the counter, the sound of rustling plastic peaking Tom’s interest. “What’d you get from the store?” he asked.

“Chocolate,” you said.

“Chocolate?” Tom repeated.

“For me,” you emphasized.

“Don’t you know sharing is caring?” he asked.

“Right,” you said. “Well, when you develop a uterus, consider my stash your stash.”

Phase two.

The next day, like clockwork, you woke up with an aching back, a nauseous stomach, and an immediate need to use the bathroom. This was the first part of the phase where your lack of significant other really put a damper on things. You were crabby, and all you wanted was to be held and cared for.

And after six months of living together, Tom finally started to notice your shift in mood during phase two. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you were on your period, and he wasn’t oblivious to the cranky stage that came before this one. But now, he was starting to realize just how upset you got during your period. Yes, you were still cranky, but you were also just down in the dumps. He never saw you cry, but then again, he never really saw you. You rarely left your room, but when you did, you had a permanent frown etched on your face.

Tom didn’t have any sisters, and none of his relationships had ever been serious enough that he saw a girlfriend through her periods. So, when it came to handling a girl when she was menstruating, he took advice from Harrison. After all, he had a sister. And Harrison told Tom to steer clear of you and give you space. So for that week each month, that’s what Tom did. But you were Tom’s best friend, and he loved you. Seeing you so upset and sitting back like it wasn’t happening was too difficult.

So this time around, Tom decided to change up the routine. You hadn’t come out for your ice cream yet, so he went to the freezer, got out your unopened pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon, and made his way to your room. He knocked on the door, waited for your words of permission, and walked in. You had all the lights off and the shades drawn, so you were only illuminated by the TV screen where New Girl was playing. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Is my TV too loud?”

“No,” Tom said with a shake of his head. “No, I, uh, I brought you your ice cream.”

“Oh,” you said, surprise in your voice. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he said, walking over to your bed to hand it to you. “Do you want some company or anything?” Your eyebrows raised.

“Seriously?” you asked. The tips of Tom’s ears turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to bug you. I just thought-“

“No, no,” you said quickly. “I’m just surprised. You usually avoid me like the plague during this week.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I thought I was supposed to.”

“Let me guess,” you said with a grin. “Harrison?” Tom just smiled, so you patted the bed next to you, and he came to sit down, pulling the covers over his legs. You adjusted the hot pad on your back and relaxed again against the pillows. There was an awkward space between you and Tom, mostly because Tom didn’t want to overstep. It wasn’t that you guys didn’t cuddle, but he honest to god didn’t know how to approach you when you were on your period. What if he touched you and you just snapped?

But then he noticed how wiggly you were getting and opened his arms up. “Wanna cuddle?” he offered. You smiled gratefully and nodded, adjusting yourself again and cuddling up to his side.

“Sorry if my hot pad gets too warm,” you said.

“No worries,” he said, pulling you close to his side. “Whatever makes you feel better.” You nodded and nuzzled your cheek against his chest. Tom knew what kind of touches you liked best, so he moved his hand to the top of your head and started massaging your scalp and running your fingers through your hair. You hummed contently which made his heart feel warm.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you muttered. “I really needed this.”

“Of course, darling,” he whispered. “All you had to do was ask, and I’d be here.”

That was how you spent the rest of your free time during the week: cuddled up in bed with Tom watching New Girl. He made you dinner most days, and when he didn’t, it was because he ordered take out. 98-percent of you was thrilled, but then there were the other two. Being this close to Tom was fulfilling that desire you had for a significant other to be there for you, and it was messing with your head. You had been harboring a crush for Tom for as long as you had known him, but you had always been able to keep a lid on it. With him doing this for you, it was hard to stop yourself from bursting.

Phase three.

Your period was in the rear view mirror, but now came arguably the worst part. Because after your period, you were insanely horny. This time around, it was even worse. For that, you blamed Tom. And he may’ve been able to help during phase two, but no way were you going to ask him to help during phase three. No matter how badly you wanted to.

You got out of the shower and dried off, settling into clean sheets without putting on your pajamas. You kept the sheets off of you as you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled out your vibrator. It buzzed to life when you pressed the button, and you brought it straight to your nipples, running it over each of them until they were both hard. Then you trailed it down your stomach before pausing at your core. It was a rabbit, so it was made to stimulate your clit and your pussy at the same time. You were already clenching in anticipation as you teased yourself, letting the vibrator dance across your outer lips. Your thighs were slick with your juices, and you were able to slide the toy inside you with no problem.

Normally, you weren’t loud when you masturbated, but it took a lot to silence yourself. You often had your face buried in your pillow or your teeth biting harshly into your lower lip. That night, you were so far gone, keeping your moans quiet wasn’t exactly in the forefront of your mind. Your pussy was clenching the vibrator so tightly, and the vibrations were making your head hazy.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. Every time you used the toy after a week of PMSing, you felt like you were in heaven. Sure, it was nothing compared to a real dick, but it sure did a damn good job at satisfying you.

You were sure Tom’s dick would be more satisfying though.

Then, you were picturing him railing into you, your face pressed against the mattress and his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about him while pleasuring yourself, but it was the first time his name left your lips while doing it.

“Tom,” you moaned. It wasn’t too loud, but you still forced your teeth to sink into your lower lip to stop it from happening again.

But the damage had already been done, because Tom walked right by your door when you said his name. He didn’t think anything of it, just assuming you heard him walking by and needed him for something. His light knock on the door caused your heart to race against your chest. You fumbled to get the covers over yourself but didn’t have time to turn off the vibrator before he came in. You gripped the sheets close to your chest and ignored the vibrator buzzing on the bed between your thighs. It was no longer inside you, but it was so close to your core that you were still feeling the shocks.

“What’s up?” you asked, praying you sounded chill.

“You called my name,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. You shook your head and frowned.

“No I didn’t,” you said. You knew you didn’t sound convincing. Tom furrowed his eyebrows but seemed amused.

“I swear you did,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it again when he heard something. “Is your phone going off?”

“What?” you said, feeling panic settling in your chest. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he said, patting his own pants pockets. “I hear something vibrating.”

“Nope,” you said, then laughed awkwardly. “You must be hearing things, Holland.”

Tom could tell you were hiding something, and he liked how flustered you seemed. It was funny to him. He took a few steps closer to you, and your body froze. “What are you doing?” you asked, hoping he didn’t notice your voice shake.

He laughed. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. “Can’t you just go?”

“You’re hiding something,” he said. “And I only know one way to get you to spill.”

Your eyes grew wide at what he was insinuating. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, Tom, don’t.” He ignored you and jumped on the bed, gripping your hips over the sheets and tickling you. “Tom!” you said, trying to wiggle away from him while still keeping your body covered.

And then, he felt it.

The vibrator buzzed against his knee causing him to stop his actions in their tracks. You were mortified. Tom didn’t look at you. Instead, he looked down at his knee as if trying to stare through the sheet to see the toy in question. You didn’t know what to say. You were busted. There was no way around it. How were you going to talk your way out of this one?

What you hadn’t expected was for Tom to grab your sheet and pull it off your body. You were frozen in shock as you watched him. His eyes were still fixated on the vibrator, now noticing that it was covered in your slick. When he finally looked at you, you realized his pupils were so blown that his eyes looked black. You were waiting for him to say something or even leave the room in disgust. Instead, Tom picked up your vibrator and turned it over in his hands, not at all seeming to mind that it was wet.

“Do you think of me a lot when you do this?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, and Tom surprised you by pressing the vibrator against your clit. A choked out moan passed your lips and your hips lifted. “Answer me,” he said.

“Yes,” you cried. “Yes, I do, Tom.” He pulled the vibrator away, and you whined at the feeling. He looked up at you again, and you felt embarrassed tears come to your eyes as you closed your legs and covered your chest with your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “Please, please just go, and I’ll never-“

“Open your legs.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to process what he said. You looked at him and saw he was staring at your body.

“What?” you said. Tom lifted his head to look in your eyes, and his expression softened.

“You tell me you don’t want my help,” he said, “and I’ll go. But-“ He cut himself off, needing to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking. “-fuck, let me help you.”

Instead of answering him with words, you moved your hands from your chest and spread your legs apart. Tom wasted no time situating himself between your legs, your vibrator still in his hand. He licked his lips before bringing the toy to your cunt, pushing it inside you inch by inch. His mouth watered at how eager your pussy was to take the vibrator, and he imagined how tightly you’d squeeze his cock.

The smaller part of the vibrator pressed against your clit every time Tom pushed the toy inside you. He worked it slowly, and you were writhing on the bed above him. You both jumped when his finger hit one of the buttons, and the vibration setting changed. “How many different vibrations are there?” he asked you, not taking his eyes off your cunt.

“Uh, huh, 30,” you stuttered.

“30,” Tom repeated, like he was testing the number on his lips. “‘S a lot.”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“You use them all?” he asked.

“Not all the time,” you managed to say. He pulled the toy out of you until just the tip was inside. You whined and tried to lift your hips, but he put his arm across your stomach to stop you. He pressed the button again, trying out another vibration. He kept clicking until he stopped on one whose pattern and intensity intrigued him.

“You like this one?” he asked. He sounded genuinely curious, but you were too focused on the fact that Tom was holding a vibrator against your cunt to answer him in any significant way.

“I like them all,” you said. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see the smirk that danced across Tom’s lips. He thrust the toy inside you causing you to cry out in pleasure. Every time he pulled it away and the small part left your clit, you wanted to beg him to put it back. He always did. His thrusts were slow but rough, pounding the toy inside you so it hit the right spots each time.

When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you bit your lip to stop yourself from saying something you might regret. Tom noticed.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he muttered, pulling the toy away from where you wanted it most. You forced your eyes open to see Tom was biting his lower lip. His pupils were still blown, but his expression was soft, almost vulnerable. How was he the vulnerable one right then?

You knew what he wanted, and when he pushed the toy back inside you, his name fell from your lips. With a few more thrusts, you were cumming. You grabbed Tom’s hand and forced him to keep the toy in place, the vibrations destroying your clit in the best way possible. Your moans were so wrecked, and the way you called Tom’s name like a prayer made his already hard dick throb in his sweats.

When he pulled the toy out of you, he noticed the way your pussy clenched around nothing. He shut the toy off, and you kept your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath. You were so focused on coming down from your high that you shrieked when you felt Tom’s mouth on your core. “Tommy,” you moaned, gripping his hair in your hands. He lapped up your cunt, savoring each drop of your cum like he wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. He could tell by how you wanted him to use the toy that you needed clit stimulation, so he gave you that. He rolled your clit with his tongue, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure. Your thighs started squeezing his head, but he held them apart, growling in warning against your cunt. You cried out, begging him for something you couldn’t quite word. Whatever it was, he somehow knew, because he had you cumming again in just the right number of minutes. He let you savor it; he didn’t rush it.

You looked down at him when he pulled away, and you noticed his lips were coated in your orgasm. You smiled in embarrassment as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He surprised you when he started kissing up your body. His lips stopped at your jaw, and he pulled back to look in your eyes. You stared at each other for a few moments before you both moved a fraction closer to each other to close the space between you in a kiss. It wasn’t as desperate and needy as you expected it to be, and you hoped and prayed that this meant something to Tom like it did to you. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. “You say the word and I’m done,” he said. “No pressure. No obligation. No-“

You cut him off. “Fuck me, Tom.” The corner of his lip raised into his cheeky smirk, and he kissed you again. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised by the affectionate action, but you loved it. You kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your core against the bulge in his pants. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists and tugged it up his body until he pulled away and yanked it over his head, tossing it to the side. He sat back on his heels and tugged his sweats and boxers down at the same time, moving around to take them off completely. His dick was even better than you imagined it might be. He was the perfect length, and he was thick, the tip red and already leaking precum.

“Shit,” Tom muttered. “Do you have a condom?”

You sighed. “No.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ve got some in my room.”

“Mm, okay,” you hummed, pressing your thighs together. “Hurry back.” You moved your hand slowly down your stomach, then traced up and down your thighs. You swore you’d never seen someone move as quickly as Tom did then, jumping off your bed and rushing out the door. When he came back, he already had the condom packet open, which made you giggle. He grinned and got back on the bed, rolling the condom on his length with a satisfied sigh. You thought he would push into you right away, but instead, he brought his lips down to yours again. He didn’t quite let them press together, just hovered over your lips before kissing across your cheek and to your ear.

“Tell me, love,” he said. “What do you think about when you think of me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he lined himself up, letting the tip of his cock brush against your clit. “Ah, fuck,” you breathed out. “Hard and fast. Choking me. Pulling my hair. Fuck-” Tom thrust into you without warning, giving you no time to adjust before pounding into you. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth gaped open. Your head almost hit the headboard with the force he was fucking you, and the room was full of your moans and slapping skin.

Tom surprised you when he pulled out of you so he could turn you over and slam into you from behind. He pulled you up by your hair so your back was arched, and you cried out in pleasure. “Yes,” you screamed. “Just like that, Tom. Fuck!” He pulled you up even more so your back was flush to his chest, and he moved his hand from your hair to your throat.

Again, better than you imagined.

He cut off your airflow just enough to make your head feel hazy. “You like that?” he muttered in your ear. “Fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so tight, you must love it.”

“Tom,” you gasped out.

“You gonna cum for me, darling?” he asked. You nodded as much as you could, and Tom pressed a little tighter against your neck. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” You moaned, your voice cracking as you did so. “Fuck, yes,” Tom said as you milked his cock. “‘M gonna cum. Oh fuck.” With a few more thrusts, Tom spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering as he finished. He pulled out of you as you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. You laid in bed, your eyes closed, as Tom fell beside you. He took off the condom and tied it off before throwing it in the trash beside your bed. You were both breathing heavily, and neither of you knew what to say or who should speak first.

“Wow,” you finally said.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.” You turned your head to look at him, and he did the same. Tom licked his lips and darted his eyes between yours. “So, what, um-” He hesitated. “What do we do now?” You swallowed thickly and stared up at the ceiling again. This was it. This was when you had to lie and say it was just sex, because you were sure that was what he would want.

Tom seemed to read your mind. “Maybe this isn’t the right time to say this,” he said, “but I really like you, (Y/N).” You looked at him again and saw how small and nervous his smile was. “You’re my best friend, but, but I’ve felt more than best friend feelings for you for a long time now.” You turned on your side and faced him.

“Really?” you asked, reaching over to stroke his cheek with the back of your hand.

He chuckled and mirrored your position. “Yeah, love. Really.” You smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were still smiling.

“I feel the same,” you said. He smiled and turned you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you again. He peppered kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess under him. “You’re so weird,” you said. “How can you go from choking me to this in a matter of minutes?” Tom’s expression shifted a bit, and he brushed his fingers lightly across your neck.

“That was okay?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “More than okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him close to you again. “Just so you’re prepared, my sex drive after shark week is always crazy high. And choking-” You brushed your lips across his. “-that’s just the beginning of what I’m into.”

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

add yourself to my TAGLIST

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #smut #marvel

902 notes · View notes

fandom-doppelgangers · 3 years

Text

Ice Cream Chills

Your eyes lifted from the sundae which your fingertips were pressed around. “Honestly, dude, I think it’s time you stopped acting like such a- a wimp!” Kawakami hissed irritably through his fanged teeth. Frustrated heat radiated off his body, his radiant orange eyes glowering in the nicely-lit ice cream parlor. It was Wednesday- the middle of the evening - with the setting sun highlighting the sky bright red and pinks. You frowned, glancing between the group of boys sitting at your booth. Kawakami’s statement earned a few uncomfortable glances, but no one looked as awkward as the boy being addressed. Tamaki Amajiki. You easily sympathized with his awkwardness, and sometimes your empathy led you to pitying him. But never felt as bad as you did now, cushioned in the corner of the plastic dinning booth, crammed between your male classmates. Your (E/C) orbs trailed around the parlor. It wasn’t much. Sleek white tile floors, white luminescent lights dotting the ceilings; against the left wall were several red cushioned diner booths, with old-fashioned metallic tables and stiff, straight backs. Of course there was a counter where you could not only order your desired ice cream, but also eye the delicious dessert as it slowly melted away, creamy liquid dripping down the sides of the containers, oozing into the stained serving space. The entire place smelled heavily of dairy products, chocolate, and underripe cherries. You surveyed the room for two people. Maybe Togata Mirio… or Nejire Hado. A muscular blonde boy, with pretty blue eyes and a warm smile, and a tall girl with bell-blue eyes and long luscious periwinkle hair. The trio, Amajiki, Mirio, and Hado, make up the big three. The three of them were more advanced than the rest of you hero-course third years. They excel above you all. Were you another of their admirers? No. But inwardly, you had to admit, the trio could be pretty cool. Amajiki looked up from his own bowl of ice cream, avoiding Kawakami’s judgmental glare. He seemed at loss for words; not knowing how to reply and obviously feeling the pressure of Kawakami’s words on his shoulders. “I- try not to be but it just… I can’t-“

“You can’t what? Help it? Honestly Suneater, I’m kinda growing tired of hearing that same excuse over and over again. You’re supposed to be better than us, right?” You let your eyes wander again, scanning anxiously for the other two members of the Big Three. Your nerves were twisting your gut, and your stomach felt empty with anxiety. You didn’t like where this was going. Once again, Amajiki seemed to have trouble coming up with a response. He kept his mouth shut, lowering his gaze. “Cool down, Kawakami… you can quit badgering him,“ one of the older boys, Hirano piped in. He looked half-serious with his playful pink eyes and ginger hair. Much to your dismay, Kawakami ignored this interruption.

“If you’re supposed to be better, than start… acting like it! Honestly, you’re acting like a freaking four year old! Get a grip! It’s embarrassing...”

As the only girl sitting at the booth, you began to feel even more uncomfortable. You tucked a stray strand of your (H/C) hair behind your ear, sucking in a breath. All the guys sitting with you had their gazes locked on Amajiki’s rigid figure. Amajiki’s indigo eyes, a perfect reflection of the night sky, stared down hard at his lap. From what you gathered… Mirio and Hado weren’t in the parlor with you guys. You could only assume they had gone to the café next door, sitting over steaming caffeinated drinks, holding the warm cups in between their cold and rosy hands. The group lapsed in uncomfortable silence for a while. No one moved, with the exception of the occasional shake or jerk from Amajiki. You chewed the inside of your lip, your blood boiling and anger swelling.

Popping your cherry in your mouth, you pushed out of your seat, and in a not-so-lady-like fashion jumped out of your seat by climbing over your booth. No way you were sliding your arse over your classmates legs. You stood off the the side from the table, stiff as a board. There was absolutely no reason for Kawakami to start on like that, right? You furrowed your brows in an angry, frustrated downward angle. Stuffing your hands in your hoodie pockets, turning your shadowed face to your male classmates, you scowled. “Not everyone is the same, Kawakami. I’d say he has a better grip on a lot of things than you do,” you said lowly, like a deep rumble of thunder emerged from your throat. You strode past the diner, tapping Amajiki’s shoulder gently. You weren’t going to wait for him, because thinking logically it might just damage his fragile nerves even more. You walked out of the parlor, through the wired-bell door with ease and into the chilly streets of Japan. The suburbs were lit with soft yellows and blinding white lights. You cuddled further into your soft hoodie, pulling at the collar to shield your chin from the wind. You narrowed your eyes, squeezing your hand into a fist. You dug your nails onto the palm of your hand, squeezing harder and harder until it stung too much. At the sound of a “ding”, you whirled around to face the door of the ice cream shop. Amajiki was stooped over, his usual slouched posture. His hands were in his pockets, and he seemed to be back to his normal, pessimistic self. You inwardly frowned at his behavior, but nonetheless bore a soft smile as he sluggishly approached you. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “Normally I don’t deal with that sort of thing… and when I do, Mirio always steps in.” You nodded slowly, ”I just hate that I had to ‘step in’ at all,” you replied. ”Speaking of Mirio, where is he?“

Amajiki lifted his gaze, making direct eye contact with you. It was for the first time, in that fleeting moment, that you got to appreciate the way the light shone across his dark indigo eyes. Never before had you seen such eyes… like dark pools of stars.

”He and Hado went off with the rest of the class. I have no idea where they are,” Amajiki replied. He averted his gaze to the ground, and you could visibly see the flushed expression spreading onto his teenage features. You shrugged, tentatively letting your smile broaden. “I guess we could find them together than? I might as well, uh,” your eyes scanned your foreign surroundings, “look around?” Amajiki didn’t oppose, he merely slouched ahead. You couldn’t recall a time you felt more eager to find your classmates. It was cold, and you struggled to keep up with Amajiki- surprisingly. He kept up a shockingly quick pace, which you were somewhat grateful for… you needed the exercise after that sundae. The two of you didn’t talk much. You just walked. He seemed to feel very awkward about walking alongside a female other than Nejire, so I guess you felt a bit flattered. “Manifest?” It was just a random thing you blurted out.

”Y-Yeah… it’s not the most convenient quirk.” You looked startled, instantly correcting yourself, “No, no! I think your quirk is really… cool. It’s convenient for hero work,” you stared down at your hands. “You have such great control of it, too. I just wish I could get a grip on myself and master my quirk the way you do.“

He peered over at you inquiringly. “You have a good grasp on your quirk just fine… you handle situations much better than I do. Just the thought of- speaking to someone so harshly, like you did…-“

You stopped hearing his footsteps echoing behind you, and you waited for him to finish his hanging sentence.

When you turned, he was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing at his stomach. “-It makes me nauseous.” You blinked. “Well, er, thank you?“ You smiled gently at him, striding over and patting his back awkwardly. He didn’t seem to like it, so you stopped.

”Maybe you just need someone to teach you. Like toughness lessons or something?” “Mirio and Hado have already tried. Nothing really works. The anxiety just gets to me-“

You folded your arms against the sweeping breeze. It was colder than you had anticipated. Amaniki just sat there, hunched in the middle of the sidewalk. The streets were so empty tonight, anyway, that no one seemed to care. You chewed your cheek, sneaking your way behind your classmate. He didn’t notice you, so you stopped down, bending over him with a gentle smile.

”How long are you gonna sit there?” You inquired. The dark-haired boy didn’t reply, instead lowering his gaze even more. “Mph,” he groaned. You grinned teasingly, poking at his back. “Come on, big guy! We gotta get back to the dorms whether you like it or not,“ you stated firmly, although there was a softer hint in your tone. Amajiki glanced up at you. His dark purple eyes glowed innocently in the dim light of the moon. He didn’t say a word, just gazed mutely into your eyes. “I’ll carry you if I absolutely have to, but don’t make me,” you warned, stuffing your rosy hands into your pockets. Tamaki smiled slowly at you, tentatively. But it was natural. He stood up.

#Amajiki being awkward #Amajiki x reader #MHA #BNHA #bnha amajiki #fluff #Imagine?#Angst?#Angst #mha tamaki #tamaki amakiji #amajiki tamaki #yn

31 notes · View notes

hercleverboy · 4 years

Text

turning page

spencer reid x reader

genre > fluff

wc > 1.6k

spencer has loved the reader for as long as could remember. when they meet again years later by chance, will everything fall back into place?

Spencer had loved Y/N for as long as he could remember.

He recalled how they’d met when they started school together. She was his only real friend, his best friend. They walked to and from school together, he taught her how to play chess, and sometimes even let her win. She always defended him from the bullies who relentlessly tormented him. He’d never forget that she was the one who’d untied him from the goal post his tormenters had strapped him to humiliate him. How she’d offered him her jacket, walked him home. She’d even offered to let him stay the night at her house, aware of his mother’s condition. He’d politely refused, but was also so grateful that she’d bothered to ask. They were young, but he knew he loved her.

When he moved away for college, it was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make, leaving her behind. He wanted to ask her to come with him but he knew she couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. She had family and commitments she had to uphold. (”I can’t just drop everything and go, Spence. But if I could I’d be with you in a heartbeat.”) The last time he hugged her, he relished in the feeling of his skin on hers, tried desperately not to think about how this may be the last time he’s fortunate enough to hold her in his arms. They loved one another, that much was certain.

but it went unspoken, the fear of rejection, the innate human need to protect themselves from being hurt.

So he’d said goodbye to her, and for years after he wished he’d told her he loved her before he left. She lingered in the back of his mind as he grew up, still evading his thoughts from time to time. His heart would still race at the thought of her, at the crystal clear memories he still held so close to him.

It was four years after joining the BAU that he met her again. Completely by chance, in a random coffee shop a block from his apartment. Initially, he couldn’t believe it was her. She still had the same smile, the one he could still remember as if he last saw it yesterday. She was still so beautiful, in fact, her beauty almost put his memory to shame. Eidetic or not, it couldn’t possibly encompass her beauty. It radiated from her like the sun, and he just knew he had to talk to her again.

“Y/N?” He’d asked, the nerves creeping up his throat and making him nauseous.

She turned around, her confused gaze leaving her features and being replaced with one of shock as the realisation hit her. “Spencer?”

He nodded with a timid grin, and she smiled. “I’m so glad to see you! It’s been so long, how are you?”

And they talked for hours, just as they had all them years ago. They chatted and laughed as if not a day had passed since they’d last spoken. As though they’d simply picked up where they left off.

It didn’t take Spencer long to realise that now she was back in his life, he wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

It only took him two months to ask her out.

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

After an entire year together, Spencer still couldn’t seem to comprehend just how lucky he was. Every morning he got to wake up beside her, his girl, he thanked every star for giving him a woman so incredible, so loving and compassionate.

It was a privilege to love her, and to receive her love in return.

Whenever he woke up early on days that he knew were going to be hectic, he liked to take a moment to watch her as she slept. Her head would rest on his chest, soft snores leaving her slightly parted lips. He’d noticed how the early morning sunlight that streamed through a gap in the curtains seemed to perfectly frame her natural beauty. He let his eyes travel over her face, remembering the place of every freckle, how her eyelashes brushed so delicately against her cheeks. He buried the memories deep in the crevices of his mind, hoping he’d never have to face a day where he couldn’t remember those details. The details he treasured so greatly.

On days like that, he would think back to all those years he’d lived without her (and he couldn’t understand how he’d managed it, now his life would be so empty and incomplete without her warmth). He would think back to the late nights that he stared up at the ceiling, recalling conversations they’d had many years before, analysing them, berating himself for letting her go.

He recalled how he’d cried one night, when it finally seemed to hit him just how much he missed her, and how the chances of finding her when he had no idea where to start were astronomically small. He was so sure he’d missed his shot with her, that he’d had his chance already, that he wasn’t lucky enough to be given a second one.

Luckily for Spencer, the universe had other plans. (It does work in mysterious ways, you see.)

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

Spencer learned to indulge himself in every moment they shared. To really take in how her lips felt against his, how they made him feel so safe and happy and home.

He thinks he would kiss her forever if he could.

When a case was rough and he just needed her to hold him, to press light kisses to his forehead and assure him that everything was okay.

He truly treasured every touch, no matter how small, every kiss, no matter how quick. In his line of work, the little things are what mattered at the end of the day.

She was what mattered.

Y/N was everything to Spencer. His only constant, the one who held him through pain and anger and upset and never questioned or ridiculed him. He knew how important his job was, and he knew that every day he went to work he was making someone’s life better, he knew that his work mattered.

But he also knew that jobs would come and go, that he could easily find another job elsewhere, it would be no hassle at all. He would never find another her, however. She was it for him. He’d seen relationships crumble because of the job, he’d watched Hotch lose his wife because of the job and he knew he never wanted to lose Y/N to the job either.

He’d quit the BAU tomorrow if she asked.

(But she would never ask.)

I surrender who I've been for who you are

For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

On the really bad days when all he needed was her arms around him, for her soothing voice to fill his ears, he realised exactly what he’d give up for her. For the love of his life, he not sure there’s anything he wouldn’t do. For her.

He recognised how his heart swelled with true happiness whenever he was with her. He recalled the time they decorated their apartment together for Halloween, Y/N had been hanging decorations from the ceiling when Spencer had spooked her. She’d squealed and given him a death glare that was soon broken by a fit of giggles as he swarmed her with tickles and kisses. (She could never stay mad at him, and Spencer was sure that her laughter could cure any illness and right any wrongs.)

He found strength in her. In how she would gently place her hand over his when they were in loud public places and he began to get anxious. In how she would send him reassuring smiles from across the room whenever she watched him give a guest lecture to a room full of aspiring agents, which would immediately soothe his nerves. In how she’d let him rest his head on her chest on the nights where he needed immediate reassurance that she was safe in the form of her heartbeat.

He always worried that he wasn’t as good of a boyfriend as she deserved, as she always seemed to do more for him than he did for her.

(She’d shut that down quickly by shaking her head and whispering, “Spence, you do enough by just being here with me. I’ll never ask for anything more from you.”)

Spencer guessed he was just lucky like that.

Although Spencer had never been a lucky man, he didn’t even really believe in luck. To Spencer, everything could be explained scientifically. He didn’t like to think that things in his life were a result of luck, a result of pure chance. He didn’t believe in such a factor until he met Y/N.

Because how else could he explain how someone like her wanted, loved, someone like him?

If it wasn’t luck, he didn’t know what it was.

But he’d like to think that him and Y/N had come together on their own. That there was no luck or change involved, no will of the universe wanting them together.

No. He chose to believe that they were simply meant to be. That their love could withstand the weight of the world and not crumble.

And for Spencer, that was more than enough.

Though we're tethered to the story we must tell

When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well

With a whisper we will tame the vicious seas

Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #turning page

244 notes · View notes