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hoshinasblade · 3 months

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second best |1| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

DISCLAIMER: this fic has a detail that hasn't been mentioned in the anime yet. it isn't a big give-away but if you are sensitive about that kind of thing, please do not proceed. pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 3K trigger warnings: author's note: this fic has two parts - part 2 will be posted a week from today :) likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated but please do not repost or steal my writings. this is quite long, but i gotta make you guys work for it. i have also set up a taglist for the second part and the other fics or drabbles, please sign up if you wanna be tagged! as always, feel free to let me know what you think or give me a prompt by sending me an ask here!

hoshina soshiro can claim with extreme conviction that he rarely regrets the decisions he has made so far in his life.

from the time he has set his sights on taking the aptitude exam necessary to be recruited in the anti-kaiju defense force, to following captain ashiro mina to support her as the vice-captain of the third division, to religiously adhering to his daily routine of working out even during his off days so he can stay in peak condition - everything he's done is driven by soshiro's lone motivation: to rise and come on top.

unfortunately, as he sees you walking in the hallway of the training building with his brother, soshiro realises that this is one of those rare occurrences where he hopes he gets a do-over.

it was barely 6 in the afternoon so there was still light from outside; the rays of the setting sun penetrating the transparent windowpanes cast an orange glow to the furniture in soshiro's office. it made him remember how he used to always be assigned as the student to clean the classroom back in junior high school: he would sweep first then rearrange the chairs before closing the windows and drawing down the curtains. he would rush up to the rooftop, in time to watch the sun dip below the horizon. he would stay for a few precious minutes, dreaming of a chance to get out of their town. he was fifteen then.

soshiro shook his head a bit. he decided that today - of all days - will not be when he will have a trip down memory lane. yes, despite the number of times he would get reminded of his past today, he refuses to get sidetracked.

the floor is eerily silent, save for the momentary opening and closing of doors; soshiro is aware that almost everyone has left, flocking to the local izakaya not too far from the base to celebrate. he had half the mind to prompt himself to hurry up in order to make it to the get-together on time. the long and gruelling application process took three months before the vetting could begin, but finally, the third division of japan anti-kaiju defense force honoured its new officers that morning. as the nominated head of the selection committee, he oversaw the entire thing, and at the end, he could not help but to feel confident that their force would become stronger from here - this year their roster of applicants boasts high-profile names like that of the very daughter of jakdf's director general and the young master of the prestigious izumo family.

okonogi, sitting in front of him at his office, was sorting the personal forms of the recruits, a big stapler in her right hand. "i can take care of this, vice-captain", she said to him, "they cannot miss you there."

soshiro smupled to his swivel chair, obviously fatigued by the task he and okonogi had been trying to finish for half an hour already. fighting and defeating kaiju is the main part of the job, but handling the paperwork proves to be as challenging. "right, make sure the headquarters get this by the morning along with the report of all their numbers -" the sound of footsteps nearby interrupted soshiro's train of thought.

there were three loud knocks and the door opened, a man with the same eyes as soshiro peeping inside. even okonogi glanced over her shoulder to identify who the intruder is. soshiro stood up.

"just wanted ta drop by before i head back ta himeji", hoshina soichiro's undeniable accent dripped. spotting the huge pile of forms littering the desk, he commented, "seems like ya are a little preoccupied though."

"hoshina fuku taichou, good evening." your voice was firm yet jovial as you greeted him, the kansai inflection rolling off your tongue. you appeared beside soshiro's brother, still wearing the same standard-issue uniform you wore during the event several hours ago when you were sworn in as a new defense force officer. the outfit is snug on you - soshiro had noticed at the ceremony earlier, but up close the top looked almost skintight, the skirt coming up a little above your knees. soshiro can be a high-ranking official within the force, but he is also a man. if only briefly, he stared. "aren't ya going ta the party?"

taken aback that you would drop by his office, it was out of his mouth too fast he couldn't stop it - "how about ya? what are you still doing here with him?" soshiro responded pointedly at you, throwing you the same query but not answering what you asked him. it was too late to take it back; he sounded like he was interrogating you about your presence with the captain of the sixth division. soichiro winced; soshiro pretended not to see. "i- i was just thinking ya went with the officers on the way there", he added, calmer this time.

"oh, i was just catching up with hoshina-kun", you replied without missing a beat. soshiro doesn't know if the accidental force in his question just seconds prior did not intimidate you at all or you simply ignored his tone. "i mean with soichiro-kun. considering ya are hoshina too", you chuckled. soshiro stole a glance at the man at your side while maintaining an empty expression. he found his brother smirking at him; soshiro willed himself not to picture soichiro as an ugly kaiju with a butt for a face.

okonogi who is now attentively eavesdropping on your conversation caught your attention. "pardon for the bother, hoshina-san. we'll be off now."

for an instant, it looked like you were waiting for soshiro to say something in response. to say what, he doesn't know. the eye contact between you and him held up for a moment but broke as quick as it began. tension prickled in the air briefly then ebbed as you turned away from soshiro. "i'll see ya at the party, vice-captain", you gave him a bow before exiting the room. soshiro wanted to stop you; he didn't.

soichiro sighed. "it was nice seeing ya, 'lil bro", he addressed soshiro, his hand patting the latter's shoulder once, twice. "i have paperwork ta worry about too so as much as i'd like to, i won't be able ta attend your division's party. just in case ya want ta know." soshiro didn't look like he had a crumb of interest to know about his brother's occupational responsibilities; he shrugged soichiro's hand off.

soshiro saw you standing outside, leaning on the wall, when he ushered his brother out. "i'll be driving her to the izakaya though", soichiro informed him. "ya should visit our folks when ya have the time. ya should come home sometimes", soichiro continued, a hint of concern evident in his voice. when soshiro did not respond, surprisingly the older hoshina did not look a tiny bit disappointed. instead, soichiro put on a charming smile and waved at okonogi. "okonogi-chan, see ya around!" he tossed a playful wink at her.

soshiro merely watched as you and soichiro walked together, your pace matching his. a few meters away, he saw you listening intently to something soichiro was saying - he is too close - and although he is not within earshot to hear what is being said anymore, he knows it is another one of his brother's bad jokes. it looks like you were trying to suppress it, but a smile was about to dawn on your lips. soshiro felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

the party was already in full swing when soshiro arrived - everyone is hungrily feasting on the expensive wagyu beef, drinks flowing endlessly from the bar. everyone is enjoying themselves; even captain ashiro mina can be seen having small talk with the newly sworn-in officers who were eagerly taking notes from her.

you had easily made friends with the other rookies who are now sitting next to you; it was thanks to your group that this event was planned - after enduring long sessions of strenuous physical training every day of every week, you all deserved a night of everyone just gathering to have a good time. soshiro seems to be exempt from the festive atmosphere though.

he picked the seat next to his captain, who greeted him with a curt nod. he proceeded to grab the mug of beer served to him; the first sip registered a sharp bitterness through his mouth but soshiro relished on the flavor as it overtook his senses.

"everything alright?" captain ashiro from his side asked without lifting her gaze from her own drink. "you are being -" she paused, carefully searching to find the right words, “uncharacteristically quiet.”

soshiro picked the glass of beer again, and when he was about to put the lid on his lips, he could sense someone’s intense stare locked on him. years of being the vice-captain gifted him with equal parts instinct and paranoia so he could not help but scan the room, only to find you, sitting across the room, watching him with a curious expression.

a rowdy group of rookies surrounds you; they are high-fiving each other, laughing at their silly pranks, not minding that all of you are squeezed together at a crowded circle. soft music in the background swelled as everyone cheered and clinked glasses.

soshiro's eyes remained fixed on yours, lasting for what he felt like forever. the buzz of chatter dulled to a distant hum, fading into an almost white noise. his heart raced as he felt his breath catch and his mouth go dry. the corner of your lips curved into a smile and maybe it is the alcohol in his system, but he is certain his cheeks are flushed now.

"huh", captain ashiro lowly exclaimed. soshiro quickly snapped a glance at her. "you talked to her yet?" she asked him. ah, she caught his little moment with you.

soshiro was on the verge of playing it cool and putting on an act; he was about to outright lie to his captain by saying "talk to who?" as if he had no idea what she was referring to. he settled with silence. he was grateful his non-response only earned him a sigh from the captain who did not press the topic any further.

"to you newbies, congratulations!" captain ashiro raised her glass, still half-filled with alcohol. her voice rang out over the place, everyone's conversations immediately falling quiet. "may the third division always be victorious in our battles to come", she recapped her speech.

the party showed no signs of slowing down. hibino kafka, a recruit in his thirties has been the centre of intrigue that has spanned for weeks now. hibino ossan - as what the others nicknamed him - had revealed in a bathroom conversation with other male rookies that he grew up with captain ashiro. ashiro mina likes dried squid; ashiro mina used to raise pets in grade school - everyone consumed any and every tidbit of trivia hibino disclosed about the usually stoic and serious third division commander. soshiro was among those invested in the rumor and you knew why. for a while, you also wondered how he would react once the rest of the troops learned about your own past with their vice-captain. would he deny it? or would he brush off any potential gossip that may arise from the revelation? if everyone discovered your shared history with hoshina soshiro, would it make him want to reconnect with you?

“you lot will start duty monday next week, but tomorrow will just be another workday for vice-captain hoshina and i”, captain ashiro said, having stood up from her seat, preparing to take off. “no, you can stay”, she said to some of the newbies who have started to get up too.

“nah, captain, why don’t we bring them along to help us file all the tedious paperwork?”, soshiro interjected in his familiar upbeat tone. the crew bursted into snickers; captain ashiro gave soshiro a perplexed look, obviously puzzled about the sudden shift in his mood. testing her theory, she looked at your direction.

captain ashiro couldn't make out why, but you were giggling at whatever your seatmate had said, elegant hand covering your mouth, eyes crinkled. she understood soshiro then - she was not foreign to feeling uneasy inside when she sees someone so physically near someone she cares about after all. "let's go, hoshina", she tucked her pity for the vice-captain away.

"do you guys think they are dating?" a particularly tactless rookie sitting at your table had asked immediately after captain ashiro and hoshina were out the sliding doors.

"i bet they're not", you blurted out a little too soon, a little too sure. you did not mind clipping your accent, your kansai-ben thick and heavy. your fellow officers looked at you, expecting an explanation for your outburst. "i mean -" you stuttered, "that would be awkward, i guess."

"you know to think of it, you're from himeji too, right?" a few more recruits have started to listen in on the exchange. these people can smell the truth off me, you thought. you wanted to smack yourself in the face.

"we went ta the same high school together, that's all", you admitted, feeling backed in a corner. tomorrow when you get questioned for this imprudent behavior, you can probably blame it all on the alcohol. "and grade school", you continued, loose-lipped now.

you still liked wearing pink bows in your hair when you met him. an only child of kind parents, you never experienced having to ask for something you like; you were doted on and spoiled so you were reasonably upset when a young hoshina soshiro did not give you the time of his day. your family has just moved to hyogo shortly before that, and you were anxious to make friends; since your early age, you had made it your mission to make soshiro acknowledge you.

"you dun wanna play with me, because ya are stupid", you told soshiro-kun once. "oka-san said all boys are stupid", you had the nerve to elaborate after he pouted at you, his unkempt bangs sticking on his sweaty forehead, his clothes dirty from training all day.

"yer pretty", he responded and you felt the blush crept up on your cheeks. "pretty annoying."

"come on, spill some tea!" someone's palm connected with the table, jolting you out of your trance. "we have another hibino-senpai situation on our hands!" they declared, grabbing you by the arm and shaking you a bit. if it was meant to encourage you to tell more childhood tales between you and the vice-captain, it worked really, really well.

"he's always had that haircut even as a kid", you said, misinterpreting the kind of story your companions wanted you to tell, judging by their disappointed looks. “i- i don’t know what else to tell you guys”, you held up your hand in surrender.

“do you have a crush on him?” you choked on your drink, caught off guard.

vexed at his absent-mindedness, soshiro was walking back to the izakaya place alone when he heard the commotion. he is going straight to bed once he gets back to the base, but he would have to retrieve his uniform jacket first from his seat earlier.

“you totally do, don’t you!” it stopped sounding like a question and more of an accusation you could not deny. “you like hoshina-san!”

“i -i do, yes... but what of it, huh?" he couldn’t see you but he would recognize the soft timbre of your voice anywhere. soshiro felt like a victorian gentleman getting a glimpse of a woman’s ankle for the first time listening in on the uproar of cheers after your confession.

“the three of us attended the same high school, soichiro-kun was a grade ahead”, you said. soshiro froze. you are talking about his brother. “he has always been good at everything, t'was hard not ta like him.”

soshiro closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. he always had his suspicions - for the ceremony earlier his brother even took a day off his busy schedule as the commander of the sixth division to attend as a guest. he should have known.

last year, soshiro’s squad fought a lizard-type kaiju with a fortitude of above 8. like the reptile, a cut made on any of its limbs was useless due to advanced regeneration. a fractured rib, extremely bruised arms, and a dislocated shoulder were what it costed soshiro to win against the monster. his bitterness threatening to consume him, he cannot believe that you confirming his worst fears would hurt more than that fatal experience.

of course, he said to himself. it’s not like he can fault you for liking soichiro - everyone did. as the firstborn son, their father always had favored him. soichiro has been the more skilled swordsman between them; he was the golden child, charismatic and talented with an effortless charm - like moths to a flame he would attract people, and even in his silence he would overshadow soshiro.

soshiro didn’t stand a chance against his own flesh and blood.

he was a teenager when he dreamed of running away from the constant but inevitable competition he had with his brother. scouted for the third division, he relished on the freedom. but how do you escape the reality of the one you love loving the one person you could never measure up to?

#hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #kaijuu 8 gou #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 x reader #kaiju #hoshina #dont worry guys #i will make them kiss in the end #hoshina soshiro fic

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ahqkas · 4 months

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♯ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE ; mattheo riddle

❛ when you cycled by

here began all my dreams ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! the countless nights he spends fighting over any sized inconveniences were getting to him. he didn’t even think about visiting the professional medic to patch his wounds, not when he had you (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.9k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fighting, blood, angst + fluff, kissing, violence, rage filled + soft mattheo, slytherin reader, friends to lovers, lovesick idiots

NOTES! my man my man my man

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

TO MATTHEO RIDDLE, FIGHTING FELT LIKE A SECOND HOME. He could insert all of his rage and anger into the punches and kicks because it was required to do so. You wouldn't throw a good punch if you didn't put your emotions into the action and so that's exactly what he did. Fought with his emotions.

The courtyard was a peaceful place for the students of Hogwarts to relax for once, bringing a sense of peacefulness with its stone pathways and patches of greenery. The yard was often filled with laughter and conversations for everyone to hear. But on some days, you could hear more than the good nature of people. Curse words and spells casted at another, yells and shouts of anger. The same goes for violent actions. The sickening snaps of bones and emotional sounds from the audience that gathered around the ongoing fight was heard for miles away.

The same goes for today.

The joyful laughter quickly turned into terrifying shouts when a nearby fight broke out among the students in green robes. Slytherins fought the most. Mattheo Riddle fought the most.

A small group of onlookers had gathered around him and another boy, his robes the same green color to match Mattheo's. Their hushed whispers and excited yells were echoing through the halls, bringing even more attention to the crowd. Just exactly what they needed.

The other boy, Aaron Banks, stood with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face, his arms crossed as he stood chest to chest with Mattheo. A dangerous combination, considering that Mattheo's bad temper could handle only this much and Aaron's instincts for his own life weren't working like they should. This situation screamed trouble.

"You really think you're something special, don't you, Riddle?" Aaron sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Just because of your name, you think you can walk around like you own the place."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed into a glare. If one looked deeply into his eyes, they would be able to see the dark storm brewing in their depths. "You don't know what you're talking about, Banks. Why don't you keep your mouth shut before you say something you'll regret?"

A mocking laugh escaped the other boy's throat, the sound harsh. "Oh, I think everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about. A Riddle will always be a Riddle. Trying to pretend you're better than the rest of us won't change that."

The crowd murmured among themselves, little jabs and comments about the two boys escaping from their lips. Bets were already in the making, money being thrown around like it meant nothing.

"Last warning, Banks. Walk away now," his jaw tightened, a muscle tickling in his cheek. He looked tense and if you looked close enough, you'd see his nails digging into the heel of his palm, trying to control his temper. He had promised to someone to do so.

"Or what? You'll run crying to daddy? Oh wait, you can't, can you?"

That was it. In an instant, all of the restraints Mattheo was trying to gain snapped away and he launched himself at Aaron Banks, who had a death wish in his eyes.

Mattheo's fist connected with Aaron's jaw in a bone-crushing punch. The audience could hear the sickening snap of a breaking bone and let out an empathic 'Oooh'. The boy's fate had already been written and no one would dare to stop the writer from his art work. They'd have a death wish as well. Aaron staggered back, more shocked than hurt at first, before he quickly recovered and his fists were flying toward another face.

The courtyard erupted into chaos of excitement and shouts of frustration as the two boys collided in a flurry of punches and shoves. Mattheo landed another hit to the boy's ribs, making him grunt in pain, which Aaron rewarded him with a swift uppercut that snapped Mattheo back.

Blood trickled from Mattheo's split lip, but he barely seemed to notice. With a snarl, he drove his shoulder to Aaron's chest, knocking them both to the ground. The two of them hit the floor hard and rolled across the cobblestones and grass.

"Fight! Fight!" some of the onlookers chanted, probably the ones who placed their money into a bet, their voices holding an edge of excitement as they watched the fight like muggleborns watched soccer matches on TV. Others tried calling for help, but their calls got lost in waves of noise.

Aaron managed to get on top, his fists raining down on Mattheo. A brutal punch on his cheek sent blood spraying on both his face and the ground beneath them, painting the green grass scarlet. With a burst of strength, Mattheo twisted around and reversed their positions, pinning Aaron beneath him. The Slytherin boy started landing a series of blows, each one hitting the blond harder and harder, with such a force it almost made his face look unrecognizable.

Aaron's nose finally cracked from the pressure Mattheo was punching with and blood gushed around his fingers as he tried to block the violence and shield his face. It didn't work.

"Had enough?"

"Stop! Both of you, stop this instant!" a voice boomed across the courtyard and the audience of students departed to make a way for the owner to walk through.

Professor McGonagall strode into the circle with her wand raised and eyes blazing with authority. The witch flickered her wand, and the boys were magically separated, levitating a few feet apart and struggling against the invisible force that held them. Mattheo was still seeping with rage, his eyes showing exactly what he wanted to do to the other boy.

"This is disgraceful!" her voice trembled with fury. "Both of you, to my office, now!"

Mattheo could see the few students that placed a bet on his behalf collecting galleons with a satisfied expressions on their faces.

The silence in Professor McGonagall's office was thick and oppressive, broken only by the ticking of an ancient clock on the wall. The room, usually a place quiet authority, now felt dangerous, like the eye of a storm. Mattheo Riddle and Aaron Banks stood before her desk, their faces bruised and swollen, their uniforms disheveled and splattered with blood.

Minerva McGonagall stood behind her desk, her expression a mask of controlled fury. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving, darted between the two boys, assessing the damage and the simmering rage that still radiated from them.

"What, precisely, did you hope to achieve with this barbaric display?" McGonagall's voice was icy, each word clipped with disapproval. "Explain yourselves."

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, wiping at the blood still trickling from his nose before he spoke up first. "He started it, Professor," he muttered like a child, casting a resentful glance at Mattheo. "He couldn't handle a bit of teasing."

"A bit of teasing?" McGonagall's voice rose, incredulous. "You think this is acceptable behavior in response to teasing? Violence is never the answer, Mr. Banks. And you, Mr. Riddle, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Mattheo's jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on a point just above McGonagall's head. He refused to look at Aaron. "He insulted my family," he said quietly, but with a hard edge to his voice. "He went too far."

McGonagall's eyes softened, just a fraction, but her voice remained stern. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even herself, but the woman had a soft spot for the boy. "And you thought physical violence was the appropriate response? You are both old enough to know better. This kind of behavior is not tolerated at Hogwarts. We are a respected school, and such actions undermine everything we stand for."

She paused, letting her words sink in. The boys remained silent, their hostility now mingled with the sting of reprimand.

"What makes this even more disgraceful is that you're both members of Slytherin. Slytherin house values ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. This situation not only reflects poorly on you but also on your house. You should be allies, supporting each other in your ambitions, not tearing each other down."

"You will both serve detention for the next month," McGonagall continued, her tone brooking no argument. "Every evening after classes, you will report to Mr. Filch. And you will write a letter of apology to each other. Not just a few lines, but a sincere apology. This kind of conduct must be addressed not just with punishment, but with understanding and reconciliation."

Aaron's face twisted in disgust, but he nodded. Mattheo, though still simmering with anger, gave a curt nod as well.

"Furthermore," McGonagall added, her eyes narrowing, "you will each receive fifty points deducted from your respective house. I hope this serves as a reminder of the consequences of your actions."

The silence that followed was heavy, both boys digesting the severity of their punishment. McGonagall's gaze softened slightly as she looked at them. "I understand that emotions can run high, especially with matters as personal as family. But you must learn to control yourselves, to find better ways to resolve conflicts. Violence only begets more violence."

The witch walked around her desk, standing closer to them. "You are both capable of better than this. I expect to see you prove that in the coming weeks."

With a final, stern look, she dismissed them. "You may go. Reflect on your actions and do better. Dismissed."

Mattheo and Aaron walked out of her office, the tension between them still palpable but now mingled with a grudging acknowledgment of the consequences they faced. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving McGonagall in the quiet of her office, the ticking of the clock the only sound as she sighed, returning to her desk with the hope that the punishment would lead to some measure of understanding between the two boys.

Ignoring the sting of his split lip and the throbbing on his bruised jawline, Mattheo headed down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the destination clear in his mind. The logical choice would have been the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey would undoubtedly patch him up with expert care, even if it meant hearing the scolding she'd have prepared. But Mattheo wanted something different - someone different. He needed to see you.

Mattheo wouldn't call himself desperate but he wasn't far from being just that if it involved you.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual, the murmur of hushed conversations about today's fight between their two housemates barely audible over the crackling fire. Mattheo slipped past the few students lounging on the green leather couches, their eyes following him with curiosity and whispers trailing after his steps. He ignored them like always, his focus solely on reaching your dormitory.

Reaching the door to the girls' dormitory, he hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly. His bloody knuckles rapped on the wood of the door, each tap sounding more quiet. What was the worst that could happen? The door creaked open to reveal you, your eyes widening as you took in his battered appearance.

"Mattheo, what happened to you?" you whispered urgently, taking in the bruises and cuts marring his face.

"I got into a bit of a disagreement," he said, downplaying the severity of the fight because he knows how much you worry about him. Which he doesn't deserve, he thinks silently.

Your eyes narrowed, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across your face at his behavior. Mattheo Riddle stood at the entrance of your dorm, bloodied and visibly in pain. "You should be in the infirmary," you exclaimed, the tone of your voice firm but gentle.

The dark haired Slytherin shook his head. "I'd rather you patched me up," he admitted, his tone softening. "Please."

Sighing, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "Alright, come in," you immediately went to help him in, taking most of his weight with the way you slung his arm around your shoulders, closing the door quietly behind him. Your dormitory was cozy, the dim light from a few enchanted candles casting a warm glow over the room.

"Sit," you ordered, pointing to a bed that probably belonged to you. The giveaway was the single snake plush he gave you for Christmas in the third year. Mattheo obeyed with a pleasant feeling spreading across his chest, sinking into the bed with a groan as the adrenaline from the fight wore off, leaving him acutely aware of the pain coursing through his body like a lightning.

You rummaged through a small trunk at the foot of your bed, pulling out a vial of healing potion and some clean cloths. Dipping a cloth in the potion and gently dabbing at the cut on his lip, your touch was both tender and precise as your palm met the side of his face that wasn't hurt that badly.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"I've been told," he replied with a smirk, though it quickly faded into a wince. "But Banks had it coming."

"Even so, you need to control your temper," your fingers working deftly to clean the blood from his face. "You're better than this."

Mattheo's lips stretched into a grin despite the pain, causing you to wince at the new blood that started to ooze out of a cut on his bottom lip. Without another word, you took his jaw into your hand and angled his face so you could examine and attend to his injuries better. Your thumb brushed against the forming bruise in a comforting manner as your eyes locked. Your irises, a shade of [colour], met the brown of his ones. The dim lighting of the lamp cast a glow on your face and Mattheo could see the highlighted concern etched into your brows.

You have never looked so beautiful in his eyes. He felt a warmth spread through him, the sight of you dulled the pain more effectively than any potion could.

"There," you said finally, stepping back to examine your work. "That should hold you until you can see Pomfrey."

His hand, almost of its own accord, moved to the small of your back to keep you close to him. The warmth of your skin under his fingertips was electrifying, the soft fabric of your shirt having ridden up slightly. Mattheo caressed the bare skin there, his touch both gentle and hesitant, as if afraid to break the spell between you. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, your eyes widening just a fraction, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your own hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

He could be tough and rough around the edges, but he found himself melting in your presence.

The proximity was intoxicating. Mattheo could see the faint freckles across your nose, the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks. He could feel your warmth seeping into him, a contrast to the cold reality of the world that brewed outside this moment. The world was dark out there, but he felt safe in your arms.

"[Name]," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed, even in your presence. Your name felt like a plea, a confession, and a promise all at once.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips for just a moment before meeting his eyes again. The tension between you was palpable, a taut string that could snap at any moment. His thumb traced small circles on your back, the simple motion sending shivers down your spine as he gazed up at you with those big brown eyes of his, his breath intertwining with yours. Mere inches kept you apart and he looked at you as if you've hung the moon on the dark sky and brought the stars with your heavenly beauty.

"Mattheo," you whispered back, voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name on your lips sent a jolt of desire through him, making it even harder to think clearly. Although, he couldn't think straight already.

Your breaths mingled in the small space that separated you, and Mattheo felt a pull, an almost irresistible urge to close the distance, to bridge the gap that had always seemed so close yet so far away. And so he did.

His hands, resting on the small of your back, pressed into you, urging you even nearer until you stood flushed between his legs.

Your hands, previously light on his chest, tightened their grip as you felt the heat radiating from his body. Your fingers trailed up to his face, where you angled his head slightly, silently urging him to meet your lips. Mattheo obliged, his heart pounding in both nervousness and excitement. Lord knows how long he wanted to do this.

With a surge of courage, Mattheo closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss. It was like a spark igniting between you, a rush of emotions and longing finally being released. The kiss deepened, fueled by years of unspoken feelings and the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's hands, now fully embracing you, held you close as if afraid you might slip away once he let go. You responded in kind, fingers tangling in his dark curl, anchoring him to you as he touched you nothing but love and passion.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world around you fading into insignificance. In that moment, there was only Mattheo and you, nothing mattered anymore. Not any stupid fight. Not any family problems. Just you two.

For in each other's arms, you had found love, love that would carry you through the darkest of times and cherish the brightest of eternity.

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hereforthehitsbaby · 1 month

Text

Good to be Back | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Synopsis: You have lived across from the Adams' for what feels like ever, since you started your bachelor's degree. You notice Rachel's car peeling out of the driveway with such force it causing the ground to shake. Before you could escape back into your home, your eyes connect with Cooper's. "Care for a drink?"

Warnings: Language, Infidelity, Rough Sex, Bondage, Oral F!Receiving, Oral M! Receiving, PIV sex, Implied Age Gap (legal), Mention of Disappearances, Spanking, Choking, Daddy Kink (Heavy), F!Reader, Mentions of The Butcher

Rating: M

Author's Note: Fandom hopper oh my god...but I cannot stop thinking about Cooper Adams!!

Word Count: 5K

Tagging Moots: @rubyfruitjungle @babygorewhore @cherryinterlude @vamplreslayer (If you do want to be tagged going forth, please let me know! If not, I can remove you! (: )

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

Invisible. The notion itself holds mystery. One not being seen by the world, but observing all of the tactics. It's the equivalent of being a ghost, or a fly on the wall; taking in every moment, every conversation. It can be useful, but also can be deadly. One small slip up and it was forever embedded in the air. There was no way to escape the truth when it slipped through intoxicated mouths - or fake bodies. But there is a perk to knowing everyone's dirt. Easy to manipulate, and easy to interject.

That is how your next door neighbor is, but you have no idea.

It has been so long since you were last home, God it must have been an eternity. After graduation you wanted - no needed - to get away. Something about being stuck in Philly made you ill. When the opportunity arose to get the fuck out you hopped ship faster than you were brought into this world. The freedom, independence; sights to see and a life of adventure to live. You thought that is how it would be, you were wrong.

College life wasn't as everyone made it out to be. You should've known it was bullshit from when you first stepped on campus, your roommate fucking some random on your bed. It set the entire tone, first it was your bed getting defiled, then it was your desk. Before you could even process what was happening, your life took a complete turn. That one frat party.

That's a moment you hate remembering. It was fun but the aftermath was scary enough. You were always warned about frat parties, what could arise. But being a young, naïve student you had everything stacked against you. This didn't even happen in your freshman year, but your senior. Every time these guys were throwing a shindig you found yourself buried in schoolwork - wanting nothing more than to let these dude’s fuck off. With your final year coming into play you wanted to branch out, though you wished you hadn't.

The party was fuzzy, all you remember was what you were told. But it happened so quickly - one day you're a wallflower and the next, the talk of campus. Eyes burned holes into your soul with every step you took, every glance was directed at you. You couldn't handle it. Something needed to happen, you begged to whoever was listening to give these guys the revenge they deserved. The things that they did, what was said - someone needed to take them down. In fact it only took a week, and your prayers were answered.

It was freeing, hearing around campus how those four dude’s just disappeared. Poof, out of existence. The matter was dropped; life was normal again. Curiosity got the best of you when you heard their names, exactly who did you wish to for this to happen? Like everything else in life it all slips away, becoming of the past. Life ticked on with its duties - you couldn't let go. From the beginning to the end everything went by quickly; a college graduate and ready to take on the world.

Graduating was suppose to mean getting your dream job, working in the field that you loved - but everything took time. As you packed up your car with the memories of the last four years, you couldn't help but reminisce. Four years worth of memories and mistakes, tucked away in the cheapest cardboard boxes. Why did life have to change so much when you were just getting comfortable again? Although you will miss college it was a good riddance, now you could prep yourself for the world.

It wasn't ideal to head back to your hometown but, it was needed. Your family hasn’t seen you in a while, plus job searching is better when you don't have to pay for room and board, especially in this economy. The four hour drive felt like an hour, tunes blasting through the car as you head back into the vortex. Your hometown felt like it was a time warp, one giant forcefield keeping everyone and everything in. Breaching that meant coming to terms that you, as well, might be stuck. Only for a few months, that's it.

As you turned down your old street, it felt like something straight out of a movie - it looked fake. Perfect houses with perfect families, this was some Truman show shit if you have ever seen it. Before you could get wrapped up in conspiracies, you saw your home - smiling softly as you rounded the corner. Pulling into the driveway there was a heavy shroud on your chest - things were out of place. Fixating on the note from the garage door you saw only a glimmer of what it said:

Going to be out of town for a month for our retirement trip. Love you, be safe!

“Great”, you thought. Just when you wanted to see your family they were gone. There was something naughty about having the house all to yourself, not worrying about anyone barging in. A smirk spread across your lips whilst shutting your car off, wrapping your lanyard in your palm. Breaking you out of your thoughts was the door slamming, screaming followed behind. It was instinctual to not be nosy, but let's face it. As you slid out of the driver's seat, you slowly reached for the backdoor - peering over to see who exactly was yelling. For a split second you caught the image of a man and woman yelling at one another while a boy and a girl sat in the backseat. Cocking an eyebrow, you leaned forward a bit more to peer out your back window.

Cooper Adams and his wife Rachel were exchanging some very colorful words, your eyes shot wide open at their argument. It felt wrong to listen in, but they didn't have to know. You bit your top lip in anticipation of what he would say next, but before the argument could officially commence, Rachel was slamming the driver’s door - and speeding so fast out of the driveway it left marks across yours. Seeing how close the car got to you made you jump, smacking your head against the roof of the car. Backing out you rubbed the swollen top, holding back tears.

Peering across the street, Cooper ran his hands through his brown locks - tugging hard. There was something sexy about how mad he was, frustrated even - but it hurt your heart. You've known Cooper since you were in college, considering that's when he moved here. All you knew was that he was a firefighter - nothing more and nothing less. There were a few occasions when you found yourself looking for the fire department’s calendars – for research purposes. Mr. October happened to be your favorite. Cooper’s gaze caught yours, showing a bit of embarrassment. He didn't think anyone was around to see what happened. Giving him a sweet wave, you smiled small in condolence at what you witnessed. He didn't return your gesture, remained at the end of your driveway - his hands fixated on his hips. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

His words pierced deep, something about the low tone sent sparks through your body. The way his broad shoulders squared up to yours. His fucking stance in itself made you want to drop. Those impure thoughts flew through your mind as he stared at the ground, awaiting your response. Catching on you shook your head, leaning back against your car. "Don't be sorry, are you okay?" Cooper saw this as an invitation to move forward, his hands in his front pockets. When he was in front of you, he couldn't look in your eyes - instead focusing on his home. The way he held himself was strict, he was so tense all the time. It was understandable with the line of work he did but this was different, he was frustrated. "I'll be okay - back from school so soon?"

He changed the subject as fast as he sauntered over to you, not wanting to focus on the negative. You shot Cooper a smile as you held your house key from your lanyard, motioning to your car filled with boxes. "I'm officially done, graduated last week." This was the first time you saw Cooper smile since you've been home - heat rushing to your cheeks. In a way you felt as if he was reading you, browsing through your entire life story off of one sentence. Lost in your own train of thought you didn't realize how close he got, his shoulders parallel to yours - boxing you in. His right hand placed on top of the roof, dangerously close to your head. Swallowing down every ounce of dignity you had. His russet brown eyes poured over every inch of you, tracing you through the clothing.

"Congratulations, I hope you got spoiled for that big accomplishment." Honey, that was the best way to describe his tone. Molasses and honey flowing in a splendid river, drowning you with every syllable. His musk - fennel and pine radiating off of him made your stomach flip, muscles contracting. You had no control over your body anymore, it was like a flip was switched. You watched as Cooper trailed his left hand over your arm, dragging his nails against the grain. His right hand fell to your neck, fingers resting at the base whilst his thumb rubbing circles by your throat. With a hard grasp, he pulled you forward - inches away from your face. "Did you get spoiled, sweetheart?”

Words could not form, no matter how hard you tried to muster them out. All you could do was shake your head as a form of no. Both of your hands fell slack to your sides, growing clammy by the second. Cooper was not happy with your answer, pouting playfully as he dug his thumb harder against your neck, causing your breath to hitch. It was a huge accomplishment, but you didn't want people to go out of their way to celebrate it. So, after you went to commencement you had a small lunch with your close family, then went back to your off campus apartment. Nothing too out there, enough to satisfy you. "Will you let me spoil you, and be a good girl?" His words made you weaker, slumping slightly into his touch. You couldn't shake the fight you saw earlier, how angry they both were. This was proof Cooper needed to blow off steam but, you felt guilty. A married man, father of two - you didn't want to intervene. "Baby, I'm getting divorced - that's what the fight was about."

That was enough for you to lean up to his lips, pressing your body flush against his. There was something about being out in the open for everyone to see that made your body burn hotter. There was a chance you could be caught by anyone. Cooper felt it too, but it was too good to stop, you were too intoxicating. His large, calloused hands slid across your lower back to drape around your ass, cupping it like it was the last thing his hands would ever do. Entangled in the pleasure you let a hearty moan slip from your mouth to his, the bulge pressing harder against your thigh. Delicate hands laced their way to the back of Cooper’s neck, scratching over the tender skin. He licked at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. Obeying his silent command you parted your lips, bringing your left leg up higher to lace around his waist.

The taste of whipped cream on his breath drove you mad, his scent lingering in your nostrils as he passionately kissed you - growing harder with each motion. You couldn't handle it anymore as you grinded down against his bulge, lightning shooting through your core. Cooper’s hand slid from your throat to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your soft strands. With a single twist of his hand, he yanked your hair back - making you gaze into his eyes. A devilish smirk rested upon his lips, swollen from how hard he made out with you. A small whimper left your mouth, tiny enough to show you turned on you were by his actions. The hand that was once secured to your side pulled your keys out, waving the lanyard in your face. "Lead the way." He smirked, draping the lanyard down the valley of your breast - watching your shudder at the feeling.

You reached up to snatch your keys away, swaying your hips as you headed for the front door. Cooper sat back to watch how your ass shook with every step, wanting to take you right then and there on the lawn. Bringing his hand down he began to palm himself, trying to relieve some of the tension his cock was holding. Out of the corner of your eye you could see it too - causing your core to ignite. To tease him further you arched your back - pushing your ass out enough to wiggle it as you slid your key in. When you least expected it, the hard crack of Cooper’s hand came down across your backside; you swore it echoed through the neighborhood.

The yelp that left your mouth was masked with Cooper’s hand, gripping at your face so hard you felt it against your teeth. Without any more effort you spun the doorknob to the left, kicking it open. Cooper ushered you inside with haste, the hard oak door slamming into its respected slot. You have never seen a man be this passionate, this rough - it made you ache all over. Standing in the foyer of your home, you gulped as you watched Cooper’s eyes blacken. There wasn't an immediate danger lurking between you both, but it felt like it - he looked as if he was going to snap. Biting hard on your first finger, you tried to jet away towards your room - to not avail. It was like Cooper read your mind - knowing exactly what you were going to do. "Now princess, where the hell do you think you're going?"

His large, calloused hand came down on your right wrist - yanking it behind your body as you pushed you into the wall separating the kitchen from the dining room. You could hear the metallic clank of his belt coming undone, groaning at the sound. Prepping yourself for the feeling of his hardened cock against your thigh, you slid your ass out a bit more - only to earn a hearty smack to the reddened flesh. "Fucking Christ, you enjoy being a brat?" The sinister smirk on his lips sent sparkles through your eyes, hearing just how lust filled he was becoming. The cold, smooth leather of his belt slid against your wrist. With a rough tug, Cooper slid your left wrist into the makeshift cuffs - cranking the end of the belt back so your hands were snug. As his fingers left your leather-clad wrists, Cooper came up to lace his fingers through your hair - ever so gently pulling you back to his mouth. His musk invaded your senses as his free hand trailed down your front - paying the softest attention to your throat. You couldn't help but slide your eyes closed at the feeling, wanting more.

Taking you out of your moment was your body being forced away from the wall, pushing you along until you were face to face with the marble countertop. This was new, must have been one of the new renovations. There was a second where Cooper completely let go of you, watching as you stood eyes forward - not daring to look back. The anticipating was killing you; you needed his touch. Sweat slid down your brow as you tried to shake your hair out of your face, letting your heart calm for a minute. The warm grasp of Cooper Adams returned but, in a harsher way. He didn't warn you when he yanked your shorts down, pooling them around your ankles. Without being told you kicked them off, wanting them far away. The cold air of your home ran through the heat produced between your legs, never realizing your panties were discarded as well.

Lost in the thought of how your core ached, Cooper had the advantage - tossing you up onto the new countertop, legs spread wide open. "Is my good girl aching for me?" You couldn't help but chew on your lip at his words, the praise shocking your cunt. Nodding gently, you batted your eyelashes in his direction - watching as his drank up your appearance. His fingertips returned to your thighs, pushing hard into the skin - knowing it was going to bruise tomorrow. Slowly he massaged his fingers upwards, draping them over your inner thighs - ghosting over your hot cunt. It was driving you mad, you needed - wanted his touch, his mouth, his everything.

The bucking of your hips into his hand only caused the fury to set itself onto Cooper, his eyes narrowing to your face. Slamming his right hand onto the countertop next to your thigh, he reached forward with his left to grip at your neck, pulling you fast towards him. "Words, use your words." Your pupils were blown out, no color except black showed. The way your expression held lust only made Cooper grow harder - wanting you more than anything. "Y-yes, Daddy." The name came out with a smirk, eyeing him up and down. Cooper’s grip on your neck got tighter, pressing his plump lips flush against yours. The heat of the kiss made you moan into his mouth, wanting him to know what effect he had on you. As the kiss got deeper he slid his hands away, unbuckling the cuffs on his shirt as he dragged the long sleeve's back, exposing his forearms. Cooper trailed his hands down to his slacks, pulling them off with ease - brief's following right behind. The slap of his erect cock against his stomach made you moan, eyes widening at his size.

"Daddy, y-you're so big..." You couldn't help but stare at his length, the wetness of your core seeping down to the counter. He would break you, split you in half - he will be the biggest cock you have ever taken. There was something ignited in Cooper when your eyes cascaded over his length, his ego growing - knowing he was big. Hearing you say it only made him ache harder. Licking his lips as he pulls back from your mouth, he pulled your ass to the edge of the counter - leaving sloppy kisses on your inner thighs, red marks littering the soft skin. With your hands pressing into your back, all you could do was whimper to Cooper - puppy dog eyes boring into his. "I need you to be loud for Daddy, okay? Don't hold back."

Obeying Cooper’s command, you braced yourself as his hot tongue slid up your seam - flat against your slit. The feeling in itself made you want to jump, stuttering your hips into his mouth. Cooper did not like that, pinning your hips down to the counter with his massive hands. He made sure to never leave your eyes, especially as he bit right where the crease of your pelvis met your thigh - tugging at the skin. You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he dove back into your steaming cunt, lapping at your arousal. Cooper was a pussy eating champ, you fucking knew it just by how he sucked your clit - rolling it in between his teeth and lips. The attention he was paying your nerve bundle made your whole body flop. You couldn't moan, no - screams were leaving your throat. Each swipe of his long tongue had you falling apart - enough to where Cooper slammed you back down onto the counter. The grunt he let out into your cunt made your orgasm approach quickly. Bucking your hips up, you let a string of whimpers slide out, signaling how close you were. "C-Coop… I-I-I'm gonna...."

"What did you just call me?" Cooper pulled his head back from your thighs, your essence glistening upon his lips. One of his eyebrows cocked in your direction, rubbing little circles into your hips. It was painful how fast your orgasm approached, but not letting it burst. The torture Cooper was pushing onto you made you want to cry. You could help but grind your hips against the air - hoping to at least reach that point you once were at. "Brats don't get to come." He tsked into your ear, biting on your lobe. You couldn't help but pout as you strained yourself, wanting something to help take you to the brink. "D-Daddy please...I-I need your mouth."

Cooper pulled you off of the counter, shaking his head at you. The tears swelling in the corner of your eyes made him soften for a moment, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Even though he was dominating you in everyway you needed, he didn't want to push you into something you may not have wanted. With a stray tear that fell, he made sure to kiss it away - peppering sweet kisses all over your face. Rubbing into his lips, you licked yours - lowering yourself to your knees. Lurching forward you returned his kisses to his hips, thighs and lower stomach - making sure to never break eye contact. "L-Let me make it up to you, Daddy."

Before you could let Cooper respond, you licked one singular line up his shaft - watching at his thick length twitched against your lips. As you came to the top you let your tongue swirl over his swollen tip - lapping up his precum. Cooper couldn't help but slam his eyes shut - wrapping his fingers in your hair to make a ponytail. Opening your mouth all the way, you let Cooper position your mouth over his tip. Nodding in anticipation, Cooper slammed your mouth down onto him - taking him fully in. It was way too much for your to grasp - choking slightly on the girth of him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks out - suctioning tightly around him. "Oh fuck, princess..." He tossed his head back as he moaned out, jetting his hips back into your face.

This was a new sensation for you, never ever being face fucked. With Cooper it felt so natural, your undying hunger strengthened with every thrust. The way his tip slid against the back of your throat made the butterflies in your stomach erupt. You couldn't handle it anymore, feeling your wetness sliding down your weakened thighs. With every bob of your head against Cooper’s cock it shot electricity through your nerves, wanting him more than anything. Through tearful eyes you watched his expression - how his forehead scrunched up, his bottom lip pulled taut between his teeth. He was trying so hard to suppress his moans for you, but it was sexier hearing them. Lightly you dragged your teeth up his shaft, causing him to pan his eyes back down at you. Cooper humped himself into your face with such aggression it made you gag more, spit dripping from your mouth over your clothed chest. As you clamped your eyes shut to breathe through your nose, you felt how his hips stuttered - shooting his creamy rope right down your throat. With weakened thrusts, he slowly started to ease out of you, rubbing his thumb over your wet chin. "Such a good little princess for Daddy, you did a great job." He cooed, placing a kiss to your forehead. The praise shot right into your cunt.

"Now it's Daddy's turn - I want you to cum on my cock. Can princess do that for me?" The eagerness to your nod made Cooper laugh at how adorable it was, helping you up to your feet. As he spun you around like the princess you are, he pressed your face into the cold countertop - it felt so good on your warm cheeks. The feeling of his toned legs kicking your open made you squirm, arching your back ever so slightly for him. Cooper leaned forward, pressing his lips to your shoulder as his cock slides between your folds, gathering your wetness on his shaft. The way he pressed his tip into your clit had you moaning out ripples, it couldn't - no - wouldn't stop. Each slow thrust of his hips caused your body to jolt, not even fully given in yet. Just then, with a snap of his hips - he sheathed his thick cock inside your wet heat. The scream you let out was enough to break the wine glasses sitting on the countertop - it felt so fucking good!

"I bet those college boys couldn't fuck you like Daddy can. Am I right princess?" He didn't give you time to adjust as he plowed into you from behind, scratching his way to your shoulder and back. The pain mixing with pleasure made you rock your entire body against him - wanting to hold and caress his form. Your wrists writhed against the leather belt, still bound from earlier. Cooper saw you struggling - taking that as his cue to release your hands. The way they flopped to your side felt unreal as he demolished your pussy. Gaining your strength back, you pressed against the countertop, pushing your hips back to meet Cooper’s thrust. "N-never, y-y-you fuck me way better, Daddy. I-I can't get enough of your b-big cock!"

Your words had Cooper laughing sinisterly - lust lacing his tone. It became too much to deal with, his dirty words flowing through your brain as his cock hit that spongy spot within you. From the way you were angled you could feel everything. The way his tip punched your cervix without a care, how your walls tightened around his girthy shaft. How with every thrust you felt your entire body come undone. Nothing in life brought you as much bliss as Cooper was, this was your whole world. You have been fantasizing about Mr. Adams ever since you first laid your eyes upon him. Now you had him where you needed, and you were never going to lay off. "Princess, I-I'm gonna-" Before Cooper could finish his sentence, he was coming undone within you. Ropes of his sweet seed painting your walls - this is when you were thankful for having an implanted contraceptive. Feeling his seed shooting in you was enough for your orgasm to spray - drenching his cock with so much force. The moans, groans and whimpers slipping from yourself and Cooper echoed throughout your vacant home - this was the best day of your life.

Cooper pulled out of you with ease, rubbing his gentle fingers across your behind. Every stroke made you weak, feeling like jelly under his grasp. Pulling you upwards to his chest, he swept you up bridal style as he made his way to your living room, seeing the new conversation pit your parents had installed. It was essentially like a giant bed with seats, causing you to laugh lightly into Cooper’s chest. As he stepped down the stairs, he pulled blanket from one of the seats over you both, pulling you closer to him. Turning around to face him, you wrapped your left leg over his, rubbing small circles into the stubble lining his chin. The moment was perfect, too perfect. The way Cooper looked at you with so much admiration and love, made your entire soul flutter. "It was me." He mumbled out, looking at you with no emotion to his words. It was like his body was taken over by an unseen force, his hand going ridged against your side. "What was you?"

He let out a gentle sigh, chewing on the inside of his cheek, never leaving your gaze. He was debating heavily if he should tell you, or leave it alone. But it felt wrong to not let you know. He slid his hand to cup your cheek, kissing you as soft as silk - lingering over your swollen lips. His large hand cupping your back as well, drawing patterns with his thumb as he let those forbidden words out; "Those guys at the frat party, I made them disappear." His words make you go stiff, eyes widening as you realize what he did. The ones who hurt you, who humiliated you earlier last year - Cooper disposed of them. Your breath grew more erratic as you realized what was going on, there was only one question flowing through your brain. "Did you...did you kill them?" It was weird, you should've felt afraid - but you felt the opposite, safe and sound within Cooper Adams’ arms.

"Yes, for you. They were going to get away with what they did to you, and I didn't want that to happen. I wanted them to feel the fear you did. I wanted them to feel the way they made you feel, I only want to protect you from the evil this world holds." Little did you know, Cooper was the evil this world held. He was after all, The Butcher.

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

Text

But... We Lost...

SUMMARY: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against RSA! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. But... the villains always lose in the end... They were all so angry and you went to comfort your crush.

CHARACTERS: Basketball Club 🏀 (Ace, Floyd & Jamil)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader, Kiss, Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 560 words per character.

COMMENTS: If you're interested, I've also written a version where the reader is already in a relationship with one of them and appears in the game dressed in cheerleading attire. It was a request.

👉 Cheering for Him

I hope you enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against Royal Sword Academy! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. The game was extremely close. Everyone could feel the tension and anxiety in the air. And in the final moment, with our hearts in our hands, and like in any D. movie... the villains lose.

You saw Ace suffering during the game. He wanted to win so badly. After all, it was the final and you were watching. And worse, rooting for him.

As soon as they lost, he turned his back on the audience where you were. And you saw him put his hands on his head and wave his arms in frustration. You see him walk angrily towards the players' entrance/exit. Then you see Jamil stopping him and talking to him. Then the two return to the field. Each shaken in their own way. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too.

After the players have retired to the changing rooms, you went outside. You go to a place where you knew the players would pass by.

It was already dark, but you still managed to see him leave alone, without his basketball clothes on and his sports bag hanging over his shoulder. He seems to have seen you from afar too, but then he looked away as if he hadn't seen you and started walking another path, as if he were avoiding you.

You run to him and reach him in a place where the two of you are completely alone. You call his name, he stops

"What?" he says as he turns sharply back to you. “We lost. I know. I don't need your pity, kay?”

You say you don't feel sorry for him. That you're also upset that they lost. That your school lost. But just as you don't feel sorry for them, you don't blame them either. You saw how he and the others were doing their best. How important this game was. And that's why, as his friend, you just want to support him. Maybe even share your frustrations.

“Thanks. But I'm fine. I just want to go to my dorm. Kay?” He tells you. You say that you understand and that if he wanted you could talk tomorrow, or not. just hang out maybe?

He turns and starts walking again, walking away from you. Until he slows down and stops again. He turns around and sees that you didn't go anywhere, that you just stood there. He sighs and walks back to you.

He doesn't say anything, just drops the bag on the floor as he walks over and hugs you. “I'm sorry.” he says in a slightly pouty voice. “I didn't want you to see me lose.” You tell him that it doesn't matter, that you've seen him win so many times. And, mainly, that you've already seen him score and point at you as if he dedicated that to you. And as you showed how happy you were whenever he did that, you heard him mumble something like he was flattered by that.

“Dummy” You hear him murmur. You reply with "You too" and say NRC is going to kick RSA’s butts next time, both with hope and with a little desire for revenge in your voice.

And while you show this slight resentment towards RSA, he pulls away a little and kisses you. Like a thank you for being by my side kiss.

To make matters worse, Floyd had been kicked out of the game earlier. He was getting so frustrated that they were losing the game that he ended up committing several fouls. And as soon as he saw that NRC had lost, he simply left the field.

Jamil sees him leaving and no one having the courage to stop him. Then he seems to look for someone in the audience and you realize he was looking for you when he spots you and starts running towards you. He perches on the bars and asks you to come closer to him.

He asks you to see if you can calm Floyd down, because they still need to do that thing of saying goodbye to the opponents saying it was a good game. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too. And he tells you to look for him on the terrace.

You hurriedly leave and go to the terrace. You find Floyd lying on the floor with his hands behind his head, looking up at the dark sky. You walk calmly until your feet are behind his head. He doesn't move. As if you didn't bother him in the slightest.

“Floyd?” you say cautiously “hum... they still need you to finish the game. You know, the... hum... Good Game thing.”

“I don't want to.” he replied in a monotone.

“I know.” You sigh and kneel down next to him. “Is there anything I can do? You just need to say goodbye to the other players and then you can leave.”

“You can stop annoying me.” he gives you one of those serious, scary looks of his before turning around with his back to you.

You remain silent for a moment, thinking carefully about what to say and what words to use. “How about a deal? I'll leave you alone if you go back and close the game.”

“That's not what I want.” He says, still facing away from you.

“Then, what do you want?”

He lifts his torso and sits down “I wanted to win!” he turns back to you, with his scary face, taller than you. “I wish I had stayed until the end of the game. And I wanted you to see me finish RSA off. If I go back down there, I'm going to squeeze them one by one. Is that what you want?”

You explode saying you just want him to get it over with. You just want him to end that game, vent his frustrations as he sees fit later, and preferably with people other than RSA students. And that you just want to be able to know how to help him. Sometimes it's frustrating just wanting to help him, but having to walk on eggshells to avoid the risk of unintentionally irritating him.

He sees you getting all upset with him in silence and kind of surprised. And that makes him... laugh? And... hug you? “I like seeing you this upset. It's kinda cute.” and then he whispers in your ear: “and hot~” He breaks the hug, and you're all flattered, which makes him laugh again.

“HA HA HA! Well, you did it. I'm back in the good mood. I will end this game. But I want to see you later, do you hear?” He kisses you. And before getting up he says, with your faces very close to each other, and a big smirk on his face: "You better be waiting for me when I get out, Koebi-chan~”

Jamil is not the type to show his feelings a lot. Especially in these situations, he will hide them perfectly. Then you see him acting like everything is fine. You see him calming down some of his teammates like Ace and Floyd and ending the game with good terms with RSA.

Or at least that's what it appears. Keeping his feelings to himself the way he does, especially these kinds of feelings, is not good for him. That's why you are a little worried.

You wait for him at the exit. It's already night, but you see him leaving alone. He has his hood on, but you'd recognize him no matter what. You run to him and call him. He looks up at you, almost surprised.

“Hi, (Y/N).” he had that light, polite smile he wears regularly. “I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with our defeat. I'm sorry.”

You say you're not disappointed. Of course you're upset that they lost, but not because of them. It happens. But, knowing Jamil, he's probably more upset than you. So you ask him to go with you to a more secluded place. You say you know he's upset and he's just hiding it like he always does. And remembering that Kalim will most likely talk to him about the game when he returns to Scarabia, perhaps it would be better to release his frustrations now.

He remains silent for a moment, as if trying to find a way to say that everything was okay. But you're right. And he trusts you. So, little by little, he explodes.

He starts by saying that of course he is upset, they lost, and worse, against RSA. Then he starts to compare the training they had, how tough they were, compared to what he knew the RSA training was like, as if they were training for a children's game and still won. But the worst of all was when he had to say goodbye to them and the RSA team captain said that "he was glad everyone had fun. After all, the important thing is not winning, but team spirit and bla bla bla..." Do you have any idea how difficult it was to calm down the other NRC players? Make sure Floyd didn't break anyone's bones? Jamil almost punched the wall while venting.

You didn't interfere while he vented, you just listened to him. When he finishes and begins to calm down by taking deep breaths, you speak again. You say that you are also upset, that you really wanted them to win because you saw them playing and they deserved to win. You are frustrated along with them. And then you ask if Jamil feels a little better.

He takes a deep breath "Yes. I'm sorry you saw this, but you were the one who asked." His back was to you. And you say you don't regret it. You never regret it when he's real with you, even if it's showing how frustrated he is.

He turns to you. “Well, in that case, you don't deserve to only see my true side when I'm angry.” There was a smirk on his lips, but his eyes were more tender. He gets closer to you and gently holds you by the waist. He kisses your cheek. “Thank you, I needed that.” And if you allow it, he will kiss your lips afterwards.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Ace Trappola #Ace Trappola x Reader #Ace x Reader #Floyd Leech #Floyd Leech x Reader #Floyd x Reader #Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper x Reader #Jamil x Reader

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lilac-5ky · 1 year

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Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

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httpscomexe · 2 months

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Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

#marvel #marvel smut #smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #wolverine #logan #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan x reader

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c4qwp · 8 months

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felix catton x fem!reader

| he falls hard for you

📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned

📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜

📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.

you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.

it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.

"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.

the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.

"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.

as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.

"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.

"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.

"hey sor-"

and you were gone.

felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.

a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.

"oh hey arent you the new student?"

felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.

"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.

"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.

"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.

"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.

"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.

"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.

"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.

while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.

"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.

"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.

"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.

it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.

one day.

one fucking day.

you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.

even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.

you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.

‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.

03:17PM

"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.

you'd laugh, he'd watch.

he'd talk, you'd listen.

"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.

‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton x y/n #saltburn #saltburn x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #fluff #felix catton fluff #fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #one shot

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emberfrostlovesloki · 3 months

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Kintsugi 金繕い [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer, have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive.

Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending]

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know.

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

y/c/h = your color hair

y/l/n = your last name

t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda

y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place.

The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself.

It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit.

They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough.

As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn.

Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.”

Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location.

As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once.

Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.”

y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated.

The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.”

y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit.

At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude.

y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts.

The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more.

y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again.

With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest.

The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now.

Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically.

It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room.

After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body.

Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do.

After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read:

I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge.

It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better.

Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage.

After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense.

Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n. I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them.

y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person.

It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her.

Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements, not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes, tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist.

The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear.

y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.”

y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well: Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t.

M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment.

The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.”

Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by.

When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them.

This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body”

The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?”

Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation.

Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable.

Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.

y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer.

The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her.

y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”

The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this.

By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.

y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n’s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.”

While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?” Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.”

Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit.

Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.”

Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.”

The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?” Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.”

Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.”

y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.

y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.

Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind.

“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him, and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept.

The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do.

Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned.

When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her.

Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there.

It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”

Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under.

The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life.

But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.”

y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.”

Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.

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kishibe-kisser · 1 year

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Hello! May I ask for a situation where the reader invite student classmate Mahito to her home to do a Biology group project together but then they get distracted and things get smutty?

Oh I love this!!!

Okay, okay! I hope you enjoy it. I really liked writing this and because there wasn't all too much direction I kind of free handed it.

The class should see this (Mahito/nsfw)

tags: pervy student Mahito x fem! reader, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), biting, cumming inside (wrap it up kids), hickies

Word count: 2044 words

There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach the whole time as you tried to take notes, your hand shaking slightly with each stroke of your pen. His gaze was unsettling, making you so incredibly nervous you couldn't even put down a coherent sentence without scribbling through it. "You seem nervous. What's on your mind?" His tone was condescending, a laugh being evident in his voice. It was even worse because he knew exactly why you were nervous.

Mahito thrived off the fact that he made you uncomfortable, even though you had never spoken before this project. His presence was simply like a black shadow in the corner of every room, watching everyone and everything but especially you. What made it even better was that you noticed. You noticed his dark gaze following everyone, following you. You even noticed the way his tongue peeked out over his lips as he watched you during classes. He made you uncomfortable in the worst ways, yet you couldn't ever bring yourself to look away and he loved it.

It tickled him pink to see your name next to his in the biology partner list. It tickled him to know you were screaming on the inside at having to be this close to him.

"Nothing's on my mind. I just want to do well on this project." You lied through your teeth, knowing that he knew. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction of saying it. Your words weren't an entire lie, Mahito knew you wanted good grades and that was the whole reason you even invited him to your house to work on the project. You let him into your private space and he was going to take advantage of it.

"What's on your mind Mahito?" You asked, finally looking up from your work and at his face. He was sat across from you at your coffee table, his blue and silver eyes trained on you as you put your pen down. His unique features made him impossible to hate, his crooked smirk, mismatched eyes and all around gorgeous face making him the most stunning thing you had ever seen. A part of you was angry at yourself for finding him attractive and liking the way he watched you at school.

"I don't think you want to know." He smiled and you felt goosebumps coat your skin. "You know what I think you might be right." You said and picked up your pen again. You listened to his laugh, watching from your peripheral vision as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours as you looked up at him. "Though since you're so persistant." He tipped your chin up to make sure you looked at him, his pale hand holding your chin so that you couldn't look away. "I was thinking about how nice you'd look spread out on this table. Your cute skirt all hiked up to show me those pretty pink panties I know you're wearing underneath."

Your heart pounded in your ears and you couldn't help but wonder how he knew the color of your underwear. Squeezing your thighs together, a whimper escaped your lips despite your best efforts to keep it in. "Hmmm, sounds like you don't mind the sound of that." He teased further, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker. He was humiliating him and you were letting him, even worse you were enjoying it.

It took him no time to throw both of your school work off of the table, coaxing you to sit on top of it with your legs spread. Mahito's fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt and danced over the skin of your thighs with surprisingly gentle touches. His eyes looking up at you as he continued to grin. You kept your hands planted on the table for stability, not knowing what to expect with him. His gentle touches disappeared nearly instantly, hiking your skirt up roughly so that he could get a good look at the wet patch forming in your panties.

He leaned down suddenly, making you gasp as his fingers ghosted over your core. He wanted a closer look, he wanted to touch, feel and explore every inch of you and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Never thought you'd let me do this, did you?" He asked, pulling your panties to the side causing goosebumps to coat your skin. "Your pussy is so pretty, so wet for me." He licked over his lips at the sight and you fought the urge to close your legs. His fingers dug into your thighs as he wrapped his arms around them, pulling you closer to the edge of the table before diving into your core.

You had never experienced anything like it, the way his tongue prodded at your entrance, the way he gripped your thighs and the way he inhaled you. It was different from your past sexual endeavors, Mahito was eating you out because he wanted to, for his pleasure. His nose grazed your clit as his tongue continued to fuck into you and your nails scratched at the wood of the coffee table. "Mahito-" You cried out, not being able to hold it back any more. You felt dirty and it felt so fucking good.

"Play with your tits while I tongue fuck your cunt. Come on pretty girl, you can do it." He commanded, fingers rubbing harsh circles over your clit as he watched you. You lifted your hands of the table and pulled your top off over your head, hesitating for a moment before unclasping your bra. He watched your every move like a starved man and to make sure you listened to his orders.

Your hands found your chest, massaging your breasts and shutting your eyes. Mahito hummed in approval before continuing his assault on your clit and swirling his tongue over the sensitive nub as his fingers dipped into your pussy. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew he was watching you and making sure you were still touching yourself as he made you shake. You were so close, so incredibly close, the walls of your cunt squeezing his fingers as he continued curling them.

"I'm gonna cum." You choked out, tears brimming your eyes as you finally opened them again to look down at him. His eyes nearly rolled back at your words, feeling so much pleasure in the way you cried out. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly as his fingers pumped a little faster, not slowing down at all as your legs tried clamping around his head. You didn't mean to let out a scream as you came but it couldn't be helped. You were certain your thighs would be bruised from the way he held them open, not slowing down the assault on your pussy until he felt your legs shaking and screams of his name turned into incoherent babble.

"I wonder what our class would think if they saw this. Their beloved friend cumming on the tongue of the class perv. I think they'd have some pretty interesting things to say." He remarked, looking at the way your chest heaved as he slowed down the pace of his fingers before pulling them out of you. "Lean down." He added on, watching you shakily move forward to get closer to him. "Open your mouth." He continued, enjoying the way you hardly hesitated at his commands anymore. He placed his fingers in your mouth, watching as your tongue cleaned your cum off of his fingers without command. "See, you're even starting to enjoy this." Mahito made sure his eyes were locked with yours, taking in your fucked out expression as you cleaned off his fingers. This was everything he had always imagined and more.

He pulled you off of the table, sitting you in his lap before laying you down on the ground and hovering over you. Mahito's hands moved back to your underwear and roughly pulled them down your legs before stuffing them in his pocket. "Making sure I don't forget my souvenir." He smiled, sitting back on his heels as his thighs spread your legs further. He pulled off his shirt and showcased his lean yet muscular body, watching as you reached forward to touch him. He let you, your fingers tracing over the lines of his abs before dipping down to the waist band of his pants.

Looking over you laid out for him, wanting him, made his cock ache. Feeling your fingers wanting to touch him, greedy for more even. He was now even more than eager to split you open on his cock.

He pulled his pants down quickly, wasting no more time before lifting your hips to meet his. You already knew from his attitude that he wasn't going to take it slow, blunt nails digging into your hips. His cock slipped into you, stretching you out and making you mewl as you tried to find something to hold onto. Sinking all the way into you, Mahito threw his head back and let out a laugh.

"God, you're sucking me in. Your pussy feels even better than i thought it would." You whined at his words, still adjusting to the stretch of him. He pulled you onto him, thrusting his hips at the same time. His cock hit that sweet spot in you harshly and making you cry out as he repeated the action. It felt so good it almost hurt, making it feel even better. The angle he had your hips raised at made it impossible for him to miss your sweet spot, hitting it repeatedly as you tried to hold onto something.

Mahito watched your tits bounce with each thrust, face contorting as you moaned, tears streaming down your face at how good it all felt. He hovered over you, placing a hand by your head to steady himself. Looking into your eyes, taking in your fucked out expression, he kissed you. Lips sloppily pressing into yours as he surpressed your noises, tongue snaking into your mouth to taste every inch of you. He could feel you tightening around his cock, walls squeezing him, milking him for everything he was worth and he pulled away from your lips. Not leaving them before biting your bottom lip first.

"I can feel you're close, pretty girl." He groaned into your skin, kissing his way down your neck. "God it feels so good." You cried, wrapping your arms around his neck to tug on his hair. He continued his way down your chest, leaving marks down your neck before sinking his teeth into your breast. You let out a scream as you came around his cock, the bite only triggering your orgasm.

You could feel yourself spasming around his cock, his pace speeding up as he chased his own high. Mahito continued biting over your chest, tongue swirling over nipples to overstimulate you more. You were a babbling mess as he kept going, marking you as his before halting all movements with a moan. You could feel him cumming inside of you, painting your walls with him as he caught his breath over you.

Mahito sat back up, looking at the piece of art he had created. His marks over your chest, hickies and bite marks on display. He pulled his cock out you, smiling at the whimper that came out of before looking at your wrecked cunt. His cum slowly dripping out of you.

You felt absolutely violated, trying to shield your body from him despite letting him wreck you no 2 minutes earlier. However Mahito was faster, holding your arms away from your body before holding onto your chin again to force you to look at him. "You know you can't hide from me." He said and you found your cheeks heating up. You couldn't move even if you wanted too, your body to sore to leave his touch and gaze.

"You better wear these on display tomorrow." Mahito continued, his finger dipping down to trace over the hickies and bite marks on your chest.

"I want our whole class to see our biology project on display."

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #mahito #mahito smut #mahito x reader

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tainsan · 1 year

Text

misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

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-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

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warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.

word count: 6.2k

“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.

“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?”

Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer.

“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”

You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.

“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.

“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”

“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.”

“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.

“Touché Lee.”

Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.

“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”

“Why would that alarm me?”

Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs.

“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.

“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no.

You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.

“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk.

“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.

“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him.

‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.

“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand.

“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life?

“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.

“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.”

You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.

“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.

“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face.

“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.

“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed.

“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.”

“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male.

“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise.

“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.

“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”

“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.”

His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?

“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.

“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”

“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be.

“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.

“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.”

Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.

“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?”

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching. Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.

Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.

“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions.

“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.

What the fuck?

----

Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.

‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’

Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji.

‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’

Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning.

Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.

----

Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?

Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.

“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.

“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.

“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.

“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.

“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man.

“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.

“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.

“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”

You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs.

“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.

“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer.

“No drink?” he asks one more time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.

“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.

“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”

“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.

Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.”

“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,”

Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.”

“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.

“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.

Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.

“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself.

“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.

“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.

“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.

“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill.

“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.

“So do you want to see around?”

“I’d love to.”

They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet.

“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.

“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.

“How about you show your room too then?”

Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.

“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.

“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape.

“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.

“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”

You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.

“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes.

Peering around the room, turning in a circle

“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”

Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.

“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.

You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

871 notes · View notes

yayakoishii · 3 months

Text

Childish Mistake | Kalego x Reader

Fandom: Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

Pairing: Naberius Kalego x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre/Tags: Fluff, Married Relationship, Memory Loss + Deaging Potion Accident

Summary: You have an accident and end up losing your memory and reverting into your teenage self.

A/n: I'm starting to think that all my fics for this fandom will be spur of the moment, I-got-possessed type of fics lol. I read the Kalego Gaiden and caught up to the manga so, I obviously had to write for him~ I really want to write a teenage Kalego or Balam fic tho! so much fun to write about their Babyls days...

also available on ao3!

"Sensei!!" A shout had you pausing in your steps. You turned around to find a student running to you with a desperate expression and your admonition about running in the hallways died on your lips.

"Is everything okay?" You asked in concern. He stopped just short of bumping into you and panted.

"There's been some disturbance at the Magic Development battler!" He said immediately. "I think one of the potions leaked and students have become all aggressive. Fights are breaking out!"

"Oh no," you muttered under your breath and immediately dashed to the battler's room. You could make out some of the abnormal class students trying to subdue the aggressive ones; Jazz must have called for help. "Alright, break it off!"

You immediately cast spells to get everyone distanced as you joined the fray. With a snap of your finger, you bound up the students who were trying to lunge at the others again. There was still chaos and shouting and you turned to see the Magic Development battler wailing and getting angry– a lot of the potions and gadgets were now broken and spilled over the floor. You carefully tried to walk around them to where the battler head was but accidentally bumped into a shelf where only one bottle was remaining.

Your eyes widened as you watched the contents spill on top of you in slow motion, your reflexes only fast enough to close your eyes in time so that it wouldn't blind you.

Excruciating pain ripped through your body and you couldn't help but let out a bloodcurdling scream. It felt like your blood was on fire and like your skin was being stretched taut. You crumpled into yourself, balling up on the floor, too overwhelmed by the pain to heed the concerned shouts of your students as you passed out.

•

Kalego was walking down the hallways to the staff room when he heard the commotion coming from the Magic Development battler. A scream he had never heard before pierced the corridors and he immediately rushed over; he had never heard it before but it still sounded familiar. There were students shouting and he parted them with a wave of his hand, trying to get to the centre of the commotion.

The purple haired teacher was shocked to find you lying on the floor. Well… ‘you’ was a bit of a stretch. Because the one lying unconscious on the floor was not the you he talked to, but the you from your teenage, when you both attended Babyls as students. You had somehow reverted to that age and Kalego was glaring at the students in a silent question.

Everyone seemed relieved that he was here (a first, he mused) but it took a few minutes for them to properly tell him what the hell had happened. Kalego sighed and immediately called for more teachers to take care of the affected and bound students. He himself made his way over to your unconscious body and started to pick you up so he could take you to the infirmary but the moment he touched you, you woke up with a loud gasp.

Kalego froze and looked at you, finding it strange to look at your younger self. Your wide eyes were still the same and yet, teenage you somehow seemed more brighter and innocent. Like you had yet to see the horrors of the world.

"What's your name?" Kalego asked immediately in lieu of checking your memory after he had helped you sit up. You cocked your head at him, staring unblinkingly. He waited for a few seconds but you didn't respond. "Can you hear me? Can you talk?"

"Uh, yeah," you nodded and blinked, cheeks flushing. It did not go amiss by Kalego, who only now remembered something you had told him a long, long time ago. "I'm (y/n). What's, what's your name, mister?"

Kalego could feel the silent stares from the students all around him and decided that he needed them gone.

"Alright, get out of here," he shot everyone a glare and most of them scampered off, not wanting to bring on the wrath of the guard dog of Babyls. The Abnormal class stayed behind but Kalego glared at them too. "You won't get a special warning. Leave."

They were hesitant but agreed to leave only after Iruma asked, "Will she be fine? Can you fix this?" and Kalego had answered an unwilling "Yes." It appeased them for now and they left him alone with you, who were looking at everything in curiosity.

"List everything you can remember and are aware of," Kalego said immediately, not bothering to get up from where he was crouched next to you. You immediately straightened up at his commanding tone.

"My name is (l/n) (y/n), 16 years old, student at Babyls," you said quickly, eyes flashing over your surroundings. "You are… Naberius Kalego. Last thing I remember is watching my juniors' Harvest Festival before going to sleep. Judging by my surroundings, I'm guessing I am currently at Babyls but… this is an unfamiliar Babyls. I have probably lost a lot of my memory if I'm correct in my assumption."

"Yeah, it's a lot," Kalego sighed and stood up, offering his hand to you. Your eyes flicked to the hand and you blushed even more furiously. Now was not the time but Kalego couldn't help but be pleased at how flustered you were getting around him. You had told him long back when you got together that you had had a crush on him since your school days. He had only nodded and moved on but now. Now he could see its effect in action.

"Thank you," you took the hand and stood up. You followed him and Kalego could see you glancing at him with awestruck eyes as you walked.

"Is there something on my face, (l/n)?" He asked calmly, enjoying this. It had been years since he had called you by that name. It wasn't even your name anymore.

Your excited smile dropped immediately at his question and you looked heartbroken. It made him pause. Kalego hadn't noticed you in school days much. In fact, when you joined as a teacher, he just remembered you by virtue of you being one of the top scorers during your years. He hadn't got to see your younger face much and unexpectedly, he had the chance now– yet he had somehow made you sad.

"What's wrong?" He asked, failing to hide his concern. He wouldn't let it slip to anyone but you… you were different. He could let it slip because you would never tease him. You huffed and looked away, pouting.

"I don't know, Naberius," you bit back. Kalego had to bite down a smile threatening to pop up on his face. If only you knew that you were Naberius too. "I'm not stupid. I can tell that you're all grown up. You look pretty much the same. I can hazard a guess that I probably fulfilled my dream of becoming a teacher at Babyls too."

"What's the problem then?" He asked as the two of you started walking again. The infirmary was close now.

"I don't know," you said quietly, looking sad. "I thought… I thought we'd be closer now, I guess. I want to befriend you, you know? Ah, I mean, for you, it's probably in the past. I guess I'm just sad that I failed to do it."

"Who says we're not closer?" Kalego asked as he opened the door for you and gestured for you to go in. You went in and shot him another tiny glare. It really was cute.

"You're calling me by my surname," you pointed out. "Not even a bit different from my memories."

"I did that to suit your memories," Kalego answered, moving to the shelf to bring out certain ingredients. A quick and easy recipe to fix the problem at hand. "If you wanted me to call you by your new surname, you could have said that outright."

There was silence in the room as Kalego quietly worked on mixing the antidote. He waited a few minutes but with no response from you, he had to look up. You were staring at the ground in horror, looking absolutely terrified with tears in your eyes. Internally, he wondered how much he had fucked up to see you cry.

You never cried because of him. The only times he saw you crying was during the days leading up to your rare evil cycle. Even when he was mean to you, glared at you, or accidentally said anything hurtful, you had never cried because of him. You had looked sad and always talked it out like a mature adult but, he had forgotten that right now, you were just a teenager.

He was your husband but… he actually had no idea how to comfort you when you were crying. Kalego ditched the antidote to make his way to where you were sitting. He kneeled in front of you and took your hands in his own.

The action startled you and you stared at his hands in amazement.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. A genuine apology was always a good start whenever he upset you. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just wanted to tease you a little."

"Telling a 16 year old they're married to someone is cruel, Kalego," you huffed. He raised an eyebrow at the usage of his first name. You looked away, face flushed again. "What? Do I not call you that? What do I call you then? Darling? Love? Here, doggy doggy?"

Kalego's face scrunched up at that last remark and you burst out laughing. He let your hands go but you grabbed his, looking pleased.

"So I was right," you breathed out, looking a little amazed. You could tell from the way he was acting around you, concerned and teasing like he was very familiar with you. "You really… married me?"

"Yes, I had a lapse of judgement five years ago," Kalego stood up but didn't try to get his hands back from you. You tugged him to sit next to you on the bed, eyes still glimmering with excitement. You clearly didn't read into his attempt at seeming nonchalant.

"Shut up!" You beamed, eyes raking over his entire body. "I can't believe I convinced you to marry me. Good job, future me!"

Kalego didn't tell you that you had hardly needed to do any convincing. He was unfortunately quite in love with you. He was the one who had to do the convincing, actually. You had insisted on a romantic proposal and refused him three times before you finally deemed his proposal worthy.

"I can't believe I'm really living my dream life," you couldn't stop smiling, looking absolutely giddy. You had dropped his hands to cup your own face. "I'm sure I tell you this all the time but, you look very hot in your teacher uniform, Kalego."

"You sure got used to saying my first name quickly," he said dryly, trying to switch the topic. It was one thing when you said it to him before dragging him to bed. It was another if you said it in your teenage body with none of your memories. You grinned at his remark.

"I've been preparing for this ever since I met you," you said, a little shy at the sudden confession. Kalego felt like his heart was going to burst if you kept making new admissions to his face. He would never show it to anyone because showing he cared was showing weakness, but damn if he did not love you with every inch of his body. "I… I'm sure the me of your present is living a very happy and satisfied life."

"You are," Kalego smiled softly. You froze at the sight, body shaking in shock at the fact that this older Kalego had just smiled at you. Right. 16 year old you had never been on the receiving end of one of his smiles, right? "I try my best to ensure that."

"I- I see!" You squeaked, face fully red as you tried to hide it. Kalego got up and went back to finish making the antidote. There was silence again for a while before you spoke up. "Are… Are you happy too, Naberius?"

You had switched back to his surname in your nervousness but hearing you say it made him smile. It really had been so long since you had called him by his surname.

"The happiest," he confirmed as he finished making the potion to fix you. He non-verbally cast the spell on it and walked over to you. "I… don't know if I'm doing a good job but, I really try my best to keep you happy."

"You're silly," you smiled at him as you took the potion from him. You smiled down at it, more to yourself than him. "I may not have my memories, but I know I am the happiest too."

With that, you downed the potion in one go. Kalego immediately caught you in his arms as you dropped unconscious and started morphing back to your actual age. In a strange way, today's events had let him meet the you of so many years ago– a side of you he never had the chance to meet.

Even back then, when he hadn't noticed you, you were brilliant, smart and quick to understand your surroundings and yourself. Kalego smiled at the top of your head as he gently picked you up and placed you flat on the infirmary bed.

Today's mistake was unlike you but… that was okay. You weren't perfect and that was fine. As your husband, it was Kalego's job to ensure that you were okay even when you end up accidentally dousing yourself in age-reverting memory potions. Seeing you knocked out like this, trusting him fully, Kalego couldn't help but think. He was the guard dog of Babyls; that was his destined duty from the moment he was born.

But being your protector, your lover, the one who stood by your side– that was his choice.

A duty he was just as happy to fulfil.

°•❀•°

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

#mairimashita! iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun fanfic #welcome to demon school iruma kun #fanfic #fanfiction #naberius kalego x reader #naberius kalego x you #kalego x reader #kalego x you #kalego sensei #naberius kalego #female reader #fluff #married relationship

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

Note

Hi!! i was wondering if you would take requests for first years in twisted. Something like their reaction to them arguing and the reader being like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad” during it. if not it’s perfectly fine!! thank you in advance if you do!

COMMENTS: I had some troubles with this one because I didn't quite understand what you were asking me. 😅 I asked a friend who consumes more romantic content than I do (which is practically none) and she told me about characters who don't know how to express their feelings so they annoy their romantic interest. Which I think would be out of character for everyone but Ace and even him I don't believe he gets to such an irritating point.

But what I understood could be that they were arguing because they were jealous but didn't want to admit it and so MC says something like that. So I went with that one. I hope it's good enough.

I hope you and all enjoy 😉

PS: I would have liked to have written some of Epel's lines in his dialect, but English is not my first language so I didn't know how to do it.

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel & Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

CONTEXT: He heard a rumor that you were seeing a dorm-mate of his that he doesn't like. He thought you would talk about it with him someday, but you never did. And the final straw was when he heard someone comment that you two had started dating. He goes to Ramshackle Dorm to clarify the matter.

The truth is: you were seeing this guy, yes, but only because he was one of, if not the worst student in the dorm and the Housewarden or Vice Housewarden asked you if you could help him study. And they promised you a reward if you could get him to improve his grades.

That student you started helping with his studies had a crush on you and he was the one who started the rumor that you two started dating.

You hear Ace knocking on your door like he usually does. When he doesn't walk right in without knocking as if this was his second dorm. You open the door and he looks sulky.

“So you weren't going to tell your best friend the news?” he asks you with a smirk.

What news? Did the Headmage give you more work without you knowing? Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like seeing you `play dumb´. He enters and closes the door behind him. He takes your hand and leads you to the common room.

“Spit it out! What's the thing between you and that dude?” You don't really know who he's talking about until he says his name. You tell him about helping him study. “Study? That excuse is old. Even I already used that one.”

You tell him he can even ask Riddle and Trey, they're the ones who asked you for that favor. But he doesn't seem to believe you.

“Just tell me if you guys are dating or not!”

You sound almost disgusted telling him no, you're not dating that guy. And then you say: “And why are you so angry? Would you like to be the one dating me instead?”

He would have blushed if he hadn't been so caught up in the argument. He smirks at you again. “Well I would be much better than him, that's for sure.”

“Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?”

“And I can! I could take you on the best date you've ever had!”

“So tomorrow at eight is fine with you?”

“More than fine! You will see! I... wait... WHAT?!” Now yes, he blushed completely. You chuckle. “O-OI! This is foul play!”

“You mean you don't want to go on a date with me then?”

“T-that's not what I meant. But... ha... ha ha HA HA HA... You know what? Well played!

You hear a knock on the door, louder than normal. You open the door and see Deuce catching his breath, as if he had run to your door. You tell him to go inside and get some rest in the common room.

“I need to talk to you.” You say you can talk when he catches his breath and you pull him into the common room.

“That guy you started seeing.” he says, after resting for a moment. He says his name. “Is it true that you two are dating?” You sometimes forget that he is the sincere and straight to the point type.

You tell him no. Of course not. You were just helping him study. Riddle and Trey asked you for this favor.

“Really? You can tell me if you're dating.” he tells you that with a slightly sad expression that he can't hide. You say it's true. That you don't even know why he would think you and that guy were dating.

He explains to you how he heard about that rumor. And as you reveal each other's point of view some dots are connected and you come to the conclusion that it could have been that same guy who started the rumour. And Deuce get pissed!

You calm him down and say that if you tell Riddle, it will be off with that guy’s head for sure. And while you calm him down, you end up holding his hands, that at that moment were fists. But he was still irritated.

“The nerve of that guy! As if you would ever settle for someone like that.”

“Do you think I would be better with you?”

“Of course! You deserve the best anyone can have! Not a jerk like that! I would treat you so much better! I would-” and then he realizes what he was saying. He gets all red and covers his face with his hands.

You hear a firm knock on the door. When you open it, you see Jack in a quite serious posture. “Hi (Y/N). I need to speak with you.” You let him in and the two of you go sit on the couch in the common room.

“What is your relationship with that guy you started seeing?” he says his name. And you say you're just helping him study because Leona asked you to. Something about him being an embarrassment to Savanaclaw and Leona not having the patience to deal with it. That you were better at that sort of thing.

He is silent for a moment. His expression impenetrable, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Pondering something. You ask what's going on and he opens his eyes and looks at you: “Are you two dating?”

What? Of course not! Why was he asking that?

“Tell me the truth! If you are then you made a really bad choice. That guy is one of those unruly punks of our dorm. You shouldn't be with him. That guy don't deserve you. You deserve better. Way better.”

“Better? Like you, perhaps?” you startle him. And he looked like he was blushing.

“I-I didn't... I mean... I like to think that I would be better than him, sure. But...” he rubs the back of his head. And you see his ears are back, like he's scared. Of your reaction maybe?

You hear a knock on the door. You open the door and Epel greets you sulkily. You greet him and ask what's wrong. “You! Something is wrong with you.” is what he answers you. “May I come in?”

You let him in. He closes the door behind him and takes your hand to lead you to the common room with him. “What's your thing with that guy?” You ask who, and he says the name of the student you were helping. You say you're only helping him study because Vil asked you to.

“Oh yeah? What are you helping him study? And why you?” he then says a few phrases in his dialect that you don't understand, but he looks upset. You tell him the truth and ask why he is questioning you.

He first answers you in his dialect and you don't understand, he then goes back to saying it in a way you understand: “Because I know you're dating him!” You look confused and start arguing with him about it not being true. And you can't argue anymore when he goes back to talking in a way you don't understand.

“If you are so pissed off because you wanted to be the one dating me then just admit it!” You yell at him, irritated.

“AND WHAT IF I AM?...” and he shuts up for a second because he realized what he just said. He looks down at the floor, lowers his voice, and clenches his fists at his side. “What if I am... I know I'm not that strong or tall, but it's not fair...”

You calmly place your hands on his face and make him look at you again. It's up to you to reassure him now.

You hear a knock on the door so loud it seems like the person on the other side is going to break it down. And then, in Sebek’s thunderous voice you hear: “HUMAN! YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY AND LET ME IN!” You open the door and see him with his usual angry face staring at you.

“May I came in?” It's kind of funny that he asks permission like that despite how rushed he is. You let him in and he talks to you right there at the entrance. It's up to you to close the door.

“Report me about your relationship with the student you started seeing. Why did these meetings start and what is the status?” You try to hide your laughter by the way he's talking, like you're some secret agent on a mission. “Why are you laughing? This is a matter of the highest importance!” The fact that you don't even know why that questionnaire just makes the scene funnier.

After he tells you the name of the "subject" you tell him, still trying not to laugh, that Lilia asked you if you could help that student with his studies.

“Quite a coherent answer. But there is a logical flaw in his narrative. How could you, a human without magic, help a student from Diasomnia with his studies?”

You might not have magic, but that doesn't mean you don't know good study methods, which is why Lilia asked for your help. Sebek believes in you, but he's still dissatisfied.

“Very well. I won't doubt Lilia-sama's plans. But you still haven't told me what your recurring status with him is.” Recurring status? What was he talking about? “I WANT TO KNOW IF IT'S TRUE THAT THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!” What? Of course not! Where did he get that idea?

“Then what are the origins of your romance rumor?” What? Well, you don't know how it came about, but it's just that, a rumor and a lie. “Are you completely sure of that?” Of course you are!

If he really likes you, then it's because one of the things he believes you are is a person of integrity. So, he fully believes your word. You see him calm down and ponder for a few seconds.

“In that case...” and then he explodes “SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DEFAME YOUR NAME! Start a rumor about you having such a fool and weak partner. HA! I knew you would recognize your own worth not to settle for such a commoner.”

“So who do you think I should settle for?”

“NOBODY. You shouldn't just settle for anything or anyone. You should get what you deserve. And you certainly deserve much more than that worm.”

“Someone like you, perhaps?”

“Well, honestly, someone like you is even worthy of someone like my liege. But if you deem me worthy, THEN YES! I shall be the one you deserve!” he won't even try to hide it, he's too proud of himself and you.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Text

All Mine

Summary: Tup returns home after a long day of training with one thing on his mind, you.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x F!Reader

Word Count: 2380

Warnings: Smut, this is pure filth everyone. Also, reader is a pole dancing instructor

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This is spite smut. I said I was going to do it, and I did. So here it is.

“Hey, Tup!” Tup grimaces as Fives flings his arm over his shoulder, “We’re hitting up 79s now that the task master has freed us-”

“-just for that, Fives, I should make you run more laps,” Rex says as he walks past them, though it’s clear that he has no intention of following through on that threat.

Fives ignores Rex, “Anyway, wanna join us?”

“Who’s us?” Tup asks, as though he’s seriously considering it.

“Me and Echo,” Tup rolls his eyes, “Jesse, Kix, Hardcase. Oh, we got Dogma to agree-”

“You got Dogma to agree?”

“Boy needs to either get drunk or get laid.” Fives says dramatically, “And yes, he agreed. So, are you in?”

“Mm…pass.”

“What! Why?”

“I have plans.”

“Better plans than watching Dogma get totally plastered or watching him try to fumble through flirting with someone?” Fives asks, sounding aghast.

“Okay, rude. He wouldn’t fumble that badly. And also, yes.”

“Like what?” Fives demands.

“I’m going home. To my girl.”

Fives blinks at him, “You have a girl? You?”

“I think I’m insulted.” Tup mutters, “But yes, I do and she’s amazing, so I’m going home. To her.”

“Well, what does she do? What’s she like?” Fives asks.

Tup twists his lips, “She’s a dancer, and she’s amazing and that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

Fives releases him, “Fine. I don’t actually believe that she exists, but since I’m an amazing big brother, I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

“How magnanimous of you.” Tup lifts his bag higher on his shoulder, “Have fun getting drunk. Try not to get arrested. I’ll see you in a week.”

“Yeah, yeah. Later, Tup’ika!” Fives calls as he turns his attention on Dogma, who looks so very resigned.

Tup almost feels bad.

Almost.

And not nearly almost enough to put his plans on hold.

So he throws a wave over his shoulder, and then hurries out of the barracks before anyone else can stop him.

His mind is already firmly locked on his cyare, and all of his plans for the evening.

Tup is lucky that his cyare lives close enough that he’s able to walk to her apartment.

He walks through the familiar streets, until he reaches her dance studio, and he keys in his personal code to the door. Her studio is a special one, all of the windows have been coated so that the people outside can’t see the dancers inside.

Which is a good thing, since his perfect cyare teaches pole dancing.

Loud music thrums through the building as he pokes his head into the lesson room to see what’s going on. She’s mid-lesson still, clad in that dark blue and white leotard set that he loves so much. Her legs and feet are both bare, and she doesn’t seem to notice him.

He watches her for a moment, leaning against the door frame, before one of the students notices him, “Ah! Hi Tup!” She shouts, “Are you joining us today?”

His cyare turns her head at the call of his name, and she favors him with a blinding smile, “Tup!” He drops his bag on the floor to catch her as she flings herself into his arms, “Welcome home!”

“Mm, this is a very nice welcome.” He drops a kiss to her lips, “But don’t let me interrupt your class, love.”

“You can join us. There’s an open pole,” She offers, very temptingly.

Tup laughs, “Maybe later this week. Rex put me through the wringer today.” He drops one more kiss to her lips, and sets her back on her feet, before he lowers his head to press his lips against her ear, “I’m going to shower, if you finish up in time, feel free to join me.”

“And if class doesn’t end in time?” She asks lightly.

“Then we’ll just have to shower again later.” He says with a wink.

She grins, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tup kisses her one more time, and then grabs his bag back off the floor and heads towards the stairs that lead to the apartment above the studio. The music is much quieter up here, though that’s 100% because the entire building was soundproofed when she bought it.

He tosses his bag next to the laundry and heads through the apartment to the fresher, intent on taking a very long, very hot shower. He doesn’t expect his cyare to join him anytime soon, though.

Pity.

Oh well, it just means that he’ll have to have his fun when she finishes with work. All this means is that he has time to plan.

Finally the lesson is over.

It’s been nearly an hour since Tup returned home, and you know that he’s already finished his shower.

You firmly, yet politely, usher your students out of the studio and lock the door behind your last student, before you turn the music off and look around the studio. You need to clean up before your next lesson.

But your next lesson is in several days, which means the mess will hold.

You hurry up the stairs and into your apartment, a broad grin crossing your face when you see Tup heading towards you. “Sorry that took so long,” You say brightly as you fling yourself into his arms.

He catches you effortlessly and lifts you to hook your legs around his waist, “No harm done. I figured you’d be a while.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead against his, “I should probably shower. I’m covered in sweat and-” You’re cut off when his lips catch yours in a deep kiss.

“Don’t care. You’re just going to get even more sweaty.” Tup adjusts his grip on you and uses his free hand to remove the top part of your leotard, tossing it to the side to be dealt with later. “Mm, someday I’m going to convince you to let me take you down in your studio.” He mumbles against your lips.

Your face heats at the thought, though you’re not opposed to the idea. Instead of answering, though, you grind yourself against his erection, pulling a moan from his lips, “You’re already hard,” You note.

“I’ve been wanting to bury myself in you since I got here. That's why I turned down the dance lesson.” His lips move to your throat, and he quickly sucks a mark onto the tender skin there.

You release a breathless laugh, before you press your hands through his hair, “Tup,” You coo his name.

“Hm?” He doesn’t pull himself away from your throat.

You comb your fingers through his curls, “Let’s go downstairs.” You offer.

Tup stops moving for a moment, before he pulls back and blinks at you, “Downstairs?”

“Into the studio.” You confirm, you wiggle against him and he groans again, though you're not sure if it’s because of the wiggling or because of the offer. Or maybe a mix of both.

Slowly he sets you to your feet, “Okay.” Tup says as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “Downstairs.”

You take a half step back from him and then giggle as he pulls you back against him, his hands moving to your hips, “Tup!”

His warm hands ease the bottom part of your leotard down your legs, and tosses them to the side, “Better to remove these here, I think.”

“I think you just want to stare at my ass,” You tease.

“Mm,” Tup’s hands slide across your ass and he squeezes roughly enough that you squeak, “You do have an amazing ass.” He agrees. And then he lightly pats your hip, “Alright, let’s go.”

“What about you?” You ask lightly.

Tup chuckles and kicks off his sleep pants, tossing them to the side as well. “There. Now we’re both naked.” He crowds into your personal space before you can get more than a glimpse of his cock, which was intentional, you’re sure. “Downstairs, cyare.”

You let him usher you down the stairs and into the studio.

It’s a lot cooler down here than in the apartment, and you can’t help but notice how Tup is eyeing the wall of mirrors with a small grin on his lips. You’re not sure what he’s thinking, but you are sure that he won’t leave you guessing for long.

And you’re right.

He presses into your personal space, his warm hands caressing your exposed skin, banishing the chill with ease. His lips find purchase on your shoulder, biting and sucking marks into your skin, pulling pleasure filled moans and gasps from your lips.

“Listen to you,” Tup coos against your throat, “Singing for me already, and we haven’t even started yet.” His hands slide to your hips and he squeezes tightly, before he spins you around so you’re facing the mirrors.

There’s no hiding the pout on your face, “I can’t touch you like this, Tup.” You whine.

He chuckles in your ear, and you shiver at the sound. “Oh, kitten, you weren’t going to be touching me anyway.” His hands slide down your arms comfortingly, and guide your hands to the pole in front of you. He presses a kiss right under your ear, “Some day, beautiful, you’re going to give me a show. But I need you too much for that right now.”

He easily manipulates your body so that you’re bent at the waist, your hands wrapped firmly around the pole, and your legs spread for him. It’s a very exposed position, and you can’t help but squirm when you feel his hands massaging your ass and hips.

“You look amazing like this,” Tup praises quietly, “All spread out and eager for me. And only me.” There’s something like smug satisfaction in his voice, though you don’t question it.

This is the only time he shows any possessive qualities, and you find it unbearably hot.

“Tup-” You whine his name when he goes longer without touching you than you would prefer.

“I’m here, cyare.” His hand slides up your spine, and then back down again, “I’m right here. Kriff, look at how wet you are.” One of his fingers teases your entrance, and you release a keening noise, as you try to rock back onto his fingers. “You’re so needy, cyare.”

“Please, Tup-”

Slowly he eases his finger inside you, and thrusts a couple of times, “Cyare, you don’t even need any prep,” Tup teases, “You’re already so aroused. Maybe I should have you like this more often.”

You whine as you rock back against his fingers, and that whine turns into a noise of displeasure as he pulls his finger out of you. “Tup-”

“Shh, I have you.” Tup settles himself behind you and rocks his cock against your slit, the head of his cock nudging your clit just enough that you whimper for him.

And then, finally, he thrusts into you with a low groan.

In spite of how needy he is, and he is needy, he moves slow. Taking his sweet time until he’s completely bottomed out inside you. He tightly grips your hip with one hand, while the other reaches up to wrap around your hands on the pole.

Tup remains still, raining feather light kisses against the back of your neck and shoulders, until you’re squirming against him. And then, and only then, does he pull out until only the head of his cock remains.

When he thrusts in this time, it’s a lot faster and harder than originally, and a pleasure filled moan falls from your lips as you rock back to meet his thrusts.

“There we go,” Tup gasps out, his grip tightening, “Kriff, you take me so good, cyare. Like your pretty pussy was made for my cock.” His hand leaves your hip to slide up your body and caress your breasts, “Like you were made for me.”

His name tumbles off your lips like a prayer, and he chuckles as he presses a kiss under your ear, “Beautiful. You’re perfect,” He praises, “I love you so much.” He nips your earlobe gently, and then sucks another mark high on your neck.

“Are you going to fall apart for me, cyar’ika?” He coos in your ear, “Are you going to cream all over my cock?”

“Yyes…please, Tup-” You’re not quite sure what you’re begging for, but he seems to know, as his free hand drags down your body and presses against your clit. Not roughly, but hard enough that you whimper and fall apart around his cock. Only able to stay on your feet by virtue of his arm wrapped tightly around you.

His thrusts become shallower as he fucks you through your orgasm, and it’s only when he’s sure that you’ve recovered enough, that he pulls out and flips you so that you’re facing him.

Your hair is sticking to your face, and you’re breathing hard, and Tup is looking at you like he’s never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

“You did so good for me,” He praises, “Can you give me another one? Just one more?”

Your arms slide around his neck, and you nod mutely. “Can. Will.”

He chuckles, and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist against, his hard cock sliding deep within you, and brushing against the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

Tup presses your back against the pole and he guides your hands so that they’re clinging to the pole over your head, “There you go, just like that.” Tup whispers, “So good for me, cyare. Doing so good.”

You smile at him, it’s hard to focus with his buried so deep inside you, but you can focus enough. “Always good for Tup. Because I belong to Tup.”

He releases a shuddering groan and leans in, “Damn right you do.” Tup kisses you deeply, “And I belong to you.” He pulls away just long enough to check to make sure that you were comfortable, before he restarts the same rapid pace from earlier.

You’re definitely not going to be able to walk, or do anything, tomorrow. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he looks at you like you’re the most important person in the galaxy.

It tracks…after all, he’s the most important person in the galaxy to you too.

#star wars #tcw #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #18+ fic #clone thirsting #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #nsft

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shadowbriar · 1 year

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Fred Weasley - Would've, Could've, Should've

Pairing : Fred Weasley x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3.3k Warning : Implication of alcohol. War. Some foul words. Italics for past events (ew). Fluff. Let me know if I missed anything. Not proofread. Synopsis : The three times Fred Weasley should've professed his feelings and the one time he finally did. Notes : I intended this piece to be an angst ending but I supposed Fred fluff is due. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Fred Weasley's Masterlist click here.

Fred Weasley finds it hard to find comfort on his old squeaky bed. It has been weeks since Harry, Ron and Hermione fled the wedding. There have been no words, no owls. Supposedly that means that they’re still in hiding. No news means no harm done. There’s no way Voldemort would have kept silent had he and his followers found Harry.

Fred hates it. Not knowing what to do nor what to expect next. The uncertainty is driving him mad. One of these days the war will happen and until then, Fred is left with nothing but the empty void he’s been trapped in for days.

He’s prepared himself well. Practising his spells and curses in the morning and at nights, before and after he busied himself with the joke shop. Her words ring in his head, like an infinite loop of heavenly melodic song. A pleasant earworm that he never wished to evict from his mind. The only thing keeping him afloat was her smile, her scent, her voice.

Her.

Perhaps it is what fueled his pestered mind. The fact that he hasn’t been able to be honest with his feelings to her, to gather the courage and be bold as he’s always tried to be in front of others. Everyone knows about his deep devotion for her. That stupid truth or dare game Hermione introduced them back in Hogwarts had to be the ugliest way of a confession and it couldn’t even be counted as one. It was simply an honest answer.

“Don’t fight it Freddie, it’ll only hurt you.” Hermione says with a teasing smile.

The veritaserum is certainly doing its job. Fred winches as he feels his skin stabbed with a thousand needles, trying his best to fight the honesty banging to be let out.

“Come on, Fred, answer the question!” Harry said, pushing him “Who is it that you fancy? Angelina? Alicia? Go on, spill it!”

Fred bites his lower lip hard, not caring the bitter taste of blood as it starts to rip.

He turns to see her, the girl who anticipates his answer just like the rest of the group. Her eyes were twinkling, smile spreading beautifully. The light from the fireside reflects on her, making her look ethereal. His cheeks were burning, unable to contain the emotions any longer as he finally blurted her name.

She blinks, looking surprised.

The rest of the students were stunned too for a brief moment, before exchanging their expressions into a playful one, smirking and nudging her. She let out a shy smile, not daring to see Fred’s gaze as her cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“I mean, it’s just a silly crush.” Fred says fast, afraid she might feel uncomfortable at his unplanned confession. But the lie hurt him worse and made him spill more truth “No— I lied. I love her. Shit, this thing hurts like unicorn balls.”

Her giggles echo through the common room. Fred finds himself smiling a little at her reaction, thankful that she didn’t find it baffling of him to fancy her. Though he’s sure she’s only showing modesty. She’s always been good at keeping his feelings after all.

Fred sighs as he rests his arm on top of his eyes. He should’ve done something then, after unintentionally uttering his feelings, perhaps he should’ve approached her and handled it better. Come with better words, ask her for a proper date, anything but to shrug the incident away. Just like what he did.

Don’t ask him what it is that makes it so hard to gather the gut and confess. He’s been trying to find the one reason for years now. Perhaps he was just insecure, feeling like he is less deserving of her affection. Or maybe he fears ruining the friendship they’ve nurtured over the years. It’s not everyday you can be close with your love interest, afterall. Most of the time it would only create misunderstanding and awkwardness, but with her, he finds support and comfort instead.

But that one game wasn’t the only time he could’ve made his move. If anything, it was only the beginning of more chances he had missed. That game happened when he was in fifth year. There have been plenty other opportunities for him to seize and be true to his feelings, yet he didn’t.

Fred stares at the seated girl from the corner of the room. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her. The stunning decorations of the Ball was nothing compared to her beauty tonight. How her hair was styled, the simple yet enchanting dress that fits her like a glove, everything about her was lovely to say the least.

His date, Angelina, has been long gone with her friends. She might have noticed Fred’s lack of enthusiasm for the dance and decided to ditch him. He feels rather guilty for not making Angie’s night, but it’s hard to try and please other people when your heart is locked on another.

She was escorted by some Slytherin git who defeated him on his race with time. Fred curses himself for taking too much time on thinking of clever lines instead of actually approaching her and asking her to be his date. He thought that people would know better than to ask her. They’ve been close for years, surely others could understand that they’re unspokenly an item. These other lads could’ve taken literally any other girl than her.

As George would nag him, he snoozes, he loses.

But after lurking at her like the creep he is for quite some time, Fred comes to the understanding that she too has been ditched by his date. A voice in his head wants to give this bloke a taste of his knuckles for leaving her alone like this, but a bigger part in him was thankful that she could now be rescued by him.

“Fancy a dance?” Fred asks, putting his hand out for her to reach.

She raises her brows, smiling in confusion, “Where’s your date?”

“Gone.” He shrugs, not paying much mind to her question “So.. Dance?”

She scrunches her nose. A habit she does whenever she’s embarrassed to do something. Her growing grin and suppressed giggle was pumping Fred’s vein with bliss. He caresses the back of her hand that was covered in white satin glove as they walk to the middle of the floor.

“I have to warn you, I might not have the best foot at dancing.”

Fred smiles at her, winking, “Well then, let me lead.”

Even as she bit her lips, the happy grin was still blooming on her face. They were dancing with whatever move Fred wanted to do, not caring that they are so out of rhyme than the rest of the other couples. He lifts her up, twirls her, before doing the same motions on himself, making her burst into fits of laughter.

Their eyes were locked on each other, completely captivated as they felt the world around them melt away. In that very moment, Fred, who thought that he couldn’t have fallen for her harder than he already is, was proven to be yet again mistaken. He could always and will always fall for her harder than he already did before.

She places her hands on his shoulders. Their height difference made it hard for her to cling on his neck, so resting them on his shoulders should do. Her smile was muted down but still radiates the very same joy. Fred would certainly argue that at this very moment, she is the most beautiful woman in his life.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes widened at the sudden burst of questions.

“I mean on the forehead, of course.” Fred said fast, trying to save the moment before he ruins it completely. His heart was beating fast, afraid she might let go and walk away “Completely platonic. You’re my best friend, after all.”

She pursed her lips. A slight disappointment was visible in her eyes but as quick as it came, the expression disappeared and changed into another lovely one, “Of course, Fred.”

“Bloody hell.” Fred groans to himself as the memory hits him like a tidal wave “Really? A kiss on the forehead? Fucking bell-end you are, Fred Weasley.”

He takes the pillow that was resting on his side to cover his face, screaming on it to let out some fumes. He really needs to get his head sorted. It’s fascinating how she’s still sticking around and having the very same lovely attitude towards him after all the baffling actions and mortifying words he’s uttered.

Even when he told her he was leaving, she was still his number one supporter.

Fred fidgets with his fingers as he waits for her by the oak tree. He’s asked Seamus to give her the word that he’s waiting for her, at the very moment he knew she’d finished her transfiguration class. His palms were flimsy, nervous of her reaction later after he finally spilled the bean. Would she still be there for him, cheering and patting him on the shoulder after this?

“Fred,” she calls, a curious smile plastered on her confused face “You wanted to see me?”

He chews the inner side of his cheek, responding in a nod.

“Okay..” She scrunches her nose, cheeks are highlighted in a strawberry colour as she takes closer steps “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something.”

She nods, eyes full of anticipation, “Go on.”

“I’m leaving.”

The glimmer in her eyes dim down as the words enter her ears. Her excited face was soon exchanged to a disappointed and puzzled one. It was as if she expected him to tell her something else.

“We have enough money now to open the shop and I don’t think we should wait any longer. Not even until graduation.” Fred continues to explain, eyes filled with uncertainty “Me and George are planning to leave by the end of this week.”

“This week?” She asks, surprised “That’s— That’s very sudden.”

Fred nods, “I know, but this is the very time for us to flee Umbridge, don’t you think? If we were to leave now, we could have more products prepared for the next school term, so students can get their pranking supplies from us.”

She remains quiet, not looking like she was even half listening.

“And we heard that there’s a shop for rent in Diagon Alley. We’re thinking of buying it and renovating it. We ought to start early before the market is full, otherwise we wouldn’t get customers.”

“You’re leaving.” She says in a soft whisper, still trying to comprehend his words. She licks her lip, forcing a smile as she places her hands on his shoulders “I am so very proud of you Fred. Of you and George, both. I’m sure the business will thrive. You two are gifted for it.”

Fred nods, breathing uneven as he debates if he should put a line here and end the conversation. They would still see each other later on, so perhaps he could postpone his confession a little longer. But he would certainly be busy with the shop later, should the business actually thrive as she said, and might not have time to utter his feelings. And that’s not considering the competition he might have now that she’s older and has certainly grown into a mesmerising woman.

“Would that be all, Fred?” She asks as if hoping that there is more from him.

Fred clears his throat, “Uh, yes. Yes, that would be all.”

She nods, smiling genuinely as she takes closer steps and reaches for his cheek, planting a small kiss on it, “I’m so proud of you, Fred. Good luck.”

Fred turns his gaze to his bedside table. There, lies the one photograph he holds very dearly. Its edges were slightly ripped from constant touch he’s done. They were smiling there. His arm resting on her shoulder as he ruffled her hair, resulting in an irritated glare as she pushed him off of her.

He missed her. It has been months since he last saw her. He’s been diligent on reading the papers, making sure that her name wasn’t listed as one of the victims through the chaos ensued. She’s always been someone with a brilliant moral compass and determination, and though it is one of the many things he loved most about her, Fred couldn’t help but to feel worried that it might cause her troubles.

“Fred, are you asleep?” George says as he barges in his room, breaking his train of thoughts “We’ve just received a message from Aberforth— Harry’s at Hogwarts. The Order will rendezvous there, we must go.”

—-

The ringing in his ears was becoming louder. His eyes were watering from the debris, chest tight from the dust and smoke of explosions. Fred was in loss of direction, though there isn’t anyone who’d know the castle better than him, he couldn’t make sense of where to go, only trusting his burning legs to carry him elsewhere. Somewhere the Death Eaters couldn’t find him.

Somewhere between the Astronomy Tower and here, he’d separated with George. He could only hope that his twin is in a better situation than him, found shelter or help to punch the Death Eaters away.

“Expulso!”

Fred’s speed finally decreases as an explosion happens behind him, blasting the Death Eaters that were chasing him away. He stares at the now ruined hallway, panting as he tries to rest his legs and catch a breath.

“Are you alright?” A girl says with worry, placing her hands to his cheeks and analysing his condition “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Fred pants, unable to utter any word. His vision was still blurred. He wasn’t sure he was still alive. Maybe the blast hit him, or he was buried under the ruins of the crumbling hallway, either way would be a better explanation to the sight he’s seeing right now. He could feel her hands scanning his body, trying to see if he was injured anywhere as the lack of words clearly didn’t provide any ease for her.

“Good God, say something, Fred!” She yells, frustrated before turning her heels and pulling his arm to the hallway “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Now the two of them are running, climbing down the many stairs of The Grand Staircase. They were cornered. More Death Eaters were waiting for them downstairs, still unaware of their upcoming presence. Before they could take their turn and descend further, Fred pulled her away to the smaller corridor and opened a secret passage.

The channel was cramped. Stone walls lit by torches that magically set ablaze as they came in. The tunnel didn’t give her any sense of comfort, noting the eerie air it has and how quiet it is compared to the turmoil happening outside. It was as if they were sucked into a different dimension now.

“We have to get back,” She says with audible pants “We have to help the others.”

“Just give me a second to breathe, Love.” Fred says with a pathetic chuckle, trying to gather his energy back “There were Death Eaters waiting for us down there, we have to go the other way.”

She nods in understanding, finally leaning to the stone walls and letting her guards down for a minute.

Fred stares at her, still slightly crunching down with his hands on his knees. He knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about her this way, given the grave situation they are currently in, but he couldn’t help but to think of just how blessed he is to be graced with her presence. Her cheeks were flushed, skin laced with sweat that made it seem as if she was glowing. Her hair was unkempt from all the running. She gave a whole new meaning to the word beautiful in his book.

“Quit staring.” She mutters, a little smile tugging on her lips “We don’t have time for an awkward reunion right now.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “I don’t know whether to be happy or mad.”

“Why would you be mad? I saved your arse just now.”

“I know,” He nods in acknowledgement “I just didn’t exactly have this in mind, Death Eaters and deathly jinx, when I finally meet you again.”

She smiles, finding the situation to be rather ironic also.

She wipes the sweat on her forehead with her sleeves. Her breathing has become steadier, taking out her wand again as if she’s ready to face whatever fight to come. That look of determination is back on her face. Fred could never recall any other time when she looked more courageous than this, but before she went to find the exit to this tunnel, he took her wrist and made her pause on her feet.

“Wait,” He says. Fred’s eyes were filled with uncertainty now. A silent battle is happening in his mind, whether or not he should come clean to her now. The setting was unideal, certainly far from the romantic scenarios he’s planned in his head for years, but there was no guarantee that either of them could come out of this alive and he knew he’d kill himself if he died without telling her how he feels “I need to tell you something.”

Her brows furrow a little, looking at his body to scan for injuries he might not have mentioned before, “Are you hurt?”

“No, no I’m not hurt.” Fred answers fast “It’s about something else. About what I’m feeling– What I have been feeling.. For you.”

“Fred,” She calls softly, taking his hands to hers and squeezing it gently with a smile “I appreciate the sentiment, truly, but you can be really daft sometimes. We have no time for this now.”

He frowns, slightly taken aback at her blunt words.

“I’ve waited years for you to muster up the courage, I deserve a proper confession, don’t you think? Not one done in some dark rotten tunnel like this.” She says with a chuckle. She places a small kiss to his cheek, still smiling warmly at him “Tell me whatever it is you want to tell me once this is all done, alright? I expect some sappy speech and flowers at disposal.”

“I’ll redo this once we’re out but I just have to get the words out now. I need to.” He states firmly “Voldy could wait for another minute, I’m sure the fight would still be there when we get out of this hole.”

Hesitation was still evident in her eyes but she nodded in defeat, staring right back at him with full attention, “Alright.”

“I love you,” Fred starts head on “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, perhaps longer cause I know I’ve been staring at you from afar since the first time I laid eyes on you. My heart is yours, always. And I just— I— Oh, fuck this.”

The lack of words were so frustrating that he caved in to adrenaline and kissed her instead, hoping that the gesture could convey the message better than his rambling. He kissed her desperately, as if he feared he could never do it again. His hands cupped her cheeks, slightly crouching down so she doesn’t have to be on her tippy toes for too long. He kissed her with all the pent up emotions he bottled all these years. Letting it all burst into fireworks that set every inch of his skin ablaze.

They were panting once again as they pulled away. Chest heaving from all the intense emotions. His nose was brushing into hers, forehead touching as they savoured every ticking second. None of them wanted to leave.

“I love you.” He whispered once more “I am utterly, unequivocally, desperately in love with you.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” She replies with a smile “That better not be the last time I hear it.”

Fred chuckles, planting a kiss to her forehead, “Trust me, you’ll tire hearing it once we get out of this.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.”

She smiles wide, satisfied that all these times spent waiting for him to confess finally comes to an end.

“I’ll find better words to say later.” Fred says tenderly.

“Don’t forget the flowers.”

He chuckles, nodding, “And flowers.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley scenario #fred weasley scenarios #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc

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hippiegoth97 · 3 months

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 12

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 11

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, smut, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, crying, angst, anger, violence, blood, mentions of domestic violence, anxiety, mentions of vomit, fear, crying, mentions of drugs

Word Count: 14.4k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 12.1: Twist of Fate

Monday, April 10th, 1989

"Good luck on your exam, my love." Eddie says, walking you to the front door of his trailer in the morning. He seems much better than yesterday, well-rested for once since you were at his side all night. He even woke you up to some spontaneous fingering to repay you for his bath. It goes without saying, you definitely needed it.

"Thank you, Eddie. I'll be back after my test, but I promised Mom I'd be home tonight." You exchange a goodbye kiss, trying not to linger too long. You've got a decent-sized ride ahead of you, and you cannot be late. You pull away, letting Eddie open the door for you and stepping into the warm April air. You hop down the steps, feeling on top of the world as you pick up your bike and straddle the seat. "Bye, darling!" You wave at him, which he kindly returns.

"Bye, princess. I'll see you later." He smiles, already missing you. You start pedaling, making your way out of Forest Hills. You ride at a steady pace, forcing yourself not to rush. You have more than enough time to get to the college, taking a deep breath at every intersection. Your nerves send a shock through you the closer you get, but you know everything will be okay. You've studied your ass off, and you're gonna make this exam your bitch.

You lock your bicycle up to the rack in the parking lot, taking one last deep breath before heading inside with the other students. It's your Biology final today, your easiest subject. You make your way down the hall, locating your assigned exam room. Your professor stands at the desk at the head of the room, handing out scantron sheets and test booklets to everyone as they come in. You take yours, exchanging a smile with him before taking your seat. You're one of his top students, sure to knock this out of the park. You sling your bag over the back of your chair, digging out your pencil pouch to set on your desk.

"Alright, everyone. We're about to begin the exam. You have exactly two and a half hours to complete it. Please remember to fill in your answers clearly, and fully erase any mistakes. If not..." You listen keenly to his instructions, your knee bouncing in anticipation of the go-ahead to open your test booklet. "...and once you've completed the exam, you'll hand in your test book and scantron sheet and be dismissed. Good luck, and I hope you all enjoy your summer." He finishes speaking, which ensues a cacophony of students ripping the seals off their booklets. You follow suit, slowly ripping the stickers that withhold the questions you need to answer.

You put your name and the date at the top of your answer sheet, taking a second to calm your pounding heart before starting your test. You've got this, bookworm. You smile at Eddie's voice speaking softly inside your head, flipping open the first page. A quick glance over every question tells you you've got this in the bag. The anxiety melts away like snow in the spring, and you gleefully fill in each bubble with the exact right answer. Mom will be so proud of you, as will Eddie.

Would Dad have been proud too? The unwelcome thought shoves itself to the forefront of your mind. You shake your head, pushing it away. Why would you care what that fucker thinks of you? He's dead as a doornail, end of story. You continue bubbling in the correct A's, B's and C's, steadily working your way through every page. That odd thought still sits in an awkward place inside your brain, waiting to creep its way into view again. But it won't here, not right now.

About halfway through the test time, you finish before everybody else. You gather your things, bringing your papers to the professor. "Have a great summer, Y/N." He smiles at you, you suppose he's proud too. You just nod, quietly thanking him and excusing yourself. Your body relaxes once you leave the room, it's like you can truly breathe again. You play the thought of your father over and over as you head back outside. You're meant to be going back to Eddie's, but you need a minute to think.

You fish out your cigarettes, putting one to your lips as you sit on the curb beside the bike rack. Eddie will smell the smoke on you and claim it's unfair, but you don’t give a fuck right now. You light up, taking a well-earned drag nice and deep within your lungs. The nicotine makes your skull buzz, and you just barely hold back a satisfied sigh. You take a few more drags, reexamining what popped up unexpectedly during the test. Why is the bastard even being considered in the list of people who would congratulate you on passing junior year of college? Sure, you still have four courses left to test for, but they’ll be just as much of a breeze as Bio. Still, he was never around for your other milestones. Why would his opinion matter now? You decide he's only come up because of the funeral. That must be it, nothing more. "Fuck you, George." You spit to nobody in particular, it's more just thinking out loud. You take the last puff from your cig, stomping out the spent butt and biking back home to your boyfriend.

"You're back earlier than I expected. How'd it go, bookworm?" Eddie asks as you step into his embrace. He notices you smell like cigarettes, automatically annoyed that he can't partake himself. You're not one to smoke if he doesn't, so there must be a good reason.

"It went great. I finished before everyone else, easy as pie!" You chirp, heading to the fridge to pull out a can of Coke. But that stupid thought keeps bubbling back up again, and Eddie can read it on your face.

"There's something else though, isn't there?" He prods, leaning against the kitchen counter beside you. He takes your hand, kissing the back of your palm. You nod, sighing as you try to fight back tears. You really don't wanna talk about it, which means you definitely need to.

"I was taking the test, everything was fine. I knew every answer, no problem. I was thinking about how you and Mom would be proud of me. And then he popped in there." You pound your fist against the counter, gritting your teeth as you continue. "It's totally fucking stupid, but I wondered if Dad would be proud, too." You feel a tear shed itself of its own volition, running down your cheek in a salty trail. You look at Eddie, unable to stop your lip from trembling. He sighs, this was supposed to be a happy day for you. And yet, this bastard he's never met has managed to ruin it posthumously.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He pulls you into his chest, holding you close as your arms wrap around his waist. You can't help yourself, this idea has shaken you to your very core. For years, he never crossed your mind at all, and now he's making unwanted appearances during a very crucial time in your life. You sob uncontrollably, though you're not sure why. You're not sad, not really. More like...frustrated. It's like you're not in control, and you hate that more than the man unworthy of calling himself your father. "It's okay, love." Eddie coos, trying his best to support you. He really wishes George was still alive, so he could sock that fucker right in the jaw.

You manage to settle down after a few minutes, letting him lead you to sit down. You sink into the couch, sipping your soda while Eddie orders some pizza for lunch. "You seem to be doing a lot better, baby." You say to him once he hangs up the phone, giving him a small smile.

"I'm still a little achy, but I'm almost good as new. I'll be blowing your back out in no time, princess." He chuckles, plopping down beside you with his own drink. You manage to giggle too, thanking the universe for Eddie's killer sense of humor. "I think I'll be back to normal tomorrow. I can drive you to your next exam, if you want." He kisses your cheek, eager to be your personal driver once again.

"I'd love that, baby. I've missed riding with you." You shuffle onto his lap, wanting him to hold you close. Your head lays on his chest, knees tented as your feet sit beside his thigh. You loop your arms around his neck like a koala, lacing your fingers together.

"I'm sure you have, sweetheart." He smirks, noticing your intentional phrasing. He speaks as close to your ear as he can, craning his neck awkwardly. "I'm very proud of you, by the way. I didn't get a chance to say that yet. I knew you'd kick that test's ass. My sexy little genius." His words make you light up, drawing you further away from your previous sour mood.

"Thanks, Eds. It means so much to hear that from you." You nuzzle his neck, planting a loving kiss there in gratitude. You hum pleasantly, returning to your original position. With Eddie by your side, perhaps this week won't be so terrible after all.

Later in the afternoon, when all the pizza is gone and you're nearly bursting with pepperoni and mushrooms, you say goodbye to Eddie for the day. You exchange a heated kiss, holding his stubbled face in your hands as you don't wanna go home just yet. You eventually pull away, hopping back on your bicycle for the third time today. When you get home, it's the same spiel of 'how was the test' with your mother. You don't tell her about the upsetting thought, though. It's not like you want to hide it from her, but you already talked it through with Eddie. It doesn't feel necessary to do it all over again.

"I'm so proud of you, sugarpuff!" Mom cheers, pulling you in for a bear hug.

"Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that." You reply, happily reciprocating her affection. "I've still got four more. And easy as Bio was, it still fried my brain."

"I’m sure you're gonna do just fine. You’re incredibly smart, Y/N." She reassures you, not used to hearing you cast even the slightest doubt on your performance during testing. There must be something wrong, but given your demeanor, you don't want to talk about it just yet. You've got enough stress this week, what with the funeral and all. The last thing she wants to do is send you spiraling. She only hopes you'll talk to Eddie about whatever is bothering you. "Are you hungry, Y/N? I picked up some subs from that yummy sandwich place. I got your favorite!"

"Oh, I already ate at Eddie's. He ordered pizza. I’ll eat it later." You feel bad for spoiling her way of rewarding you. The tradition hadn't crossed your mind today, that she always gets your favorite sub during finals week.

"That's okay. I'll keep it in the fridge for you." Her face falls slightly. You never forget your special sandwich. "Are you doing okay?" She asks. Not this again.

"Yes, Mom. I'm fine. I'm just tired. I didn't mean to forget our little tradition. This week is just...a lot." It's not exactly a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. I'll tell her later, you promise yourself. You've already done the whole angry crying routine, you're over it for the day. You lean forward against the kitchen island, elbows resting on its smooth surface.

She sighs, opening the fridge to put your sub away. "I'm sorry, sugarpuff. I wish this whole funeral business wasn't happening during your exams. I don't exactly have control over what Angie wants." Resignation taints her voice, this week is probably just as hard for her.

"No, I know. I can't imagine you're having the best time, either."

"Not really, but I've got my special kiddos to help me through it. It's just a few days, it'll be over before we know it." You can tell by the way she speaks that she also counts Eddie as one of those 'kiddos'. The sentiment makes you smile brightly. You and him are so lucky that both your families love seeing you together, it's so fuckin' perfect. "How's Eddie doing?" She asks, curious to hear about your handsome loverboy.

"He's much better now. He's actually gonna drive me to my exam tomorrow." You reply happily, already counting down the minutes.

"Oh, good! And he'll be coming to dinner on Wednesday, right?" She perks up.

"Yeah, he offered before I had the chance to ask. Hopefully he’ll keep me from going apeshit." You joke, though Mom doesn't find it particularly funny.

"So do I. Oh, Angie mentioned on the phone that she wants to talk to you specifically about something. She wouldn't say what, but it seems important." She bites her lip, worried about sending you into another angry fit.

You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the hell that slut could possibly have to say to you. "Okay? I'm guessing I have no choice but to hear her out, correct?" You dull the attitude to the best of your ability, holding your eyes still so they don't roll into your skull.

"I'm not gonna force you to be alone with her, Y/N. You're a grown woman now, that's your choice. But, I think it would be helpful to everyone involved if you just do this for her, and for yourself." Mom implores you to play nice, it's the one thing she's asking of you.

"Alright, I'll do it. But not alone, Eddie can hear whatever the hell she has to say. I'm not gonna be one on one with her, not for a single second." You reply firmly, drawing a line in the sand..

She nods agreeably, your terms are fair enough in her eyes. "Thank you, sugarpuff. I really appreciate it." She gives you a half-smile, praying nothing goes wrong this week.

You spend the rest of the day in your room, reviewing flashcards for your next exam one last time. You pop out for your sandwich around dinner time, and give Eddie a call to tell him that Angie wants to talk to you. He agrees to stay by your side no matter what, you need him more than ever through all of this. You miss him so much, you're tempted to go back to the trailer. But he'll be here in the morning to take you to school, and you'll get exactly what you've been craving after your test.

You say goodnight to Eddie, letting him get some much-needed rest so he'll be fresh tomorrow. Mom's doing dishes in the kitchen, and Dustin is watching TV. They seem a little glum, though you’re guessing you don't look much better. That's just the nature of handling death, all you can do is grin and bear it until the pain fades away. "Goodnight, Dusty, Mom." You say to them, heading back to your room for the night. They parrot your words back to you in unison, too focused on their activities to look your way. You shut your bedroom door, changing into Eddie's shirt before climbing into bed.

Sleep. It's such a simple word, and an even simpler concept. You lay down, close your eyes, and BAM! Sleep. Tonight, this simple idea appears to be more elusive to you than ever before. You toss and turn in your bed, trying to get comfortable. You attempt to count sheep, solve complex math equations, and recite state capitals. Nothing is working. You look at the clock. Midnight, and there's no slumber in sight. Maybe another smoke will relax you. You hop out of bed with an aggravated sigh, digging around in your bag for your cigarettes. You light up whilst hanging outside your window like always, staring up at the moon.

You can't help wondering what Eddie's up to, picturing his handsome face. You hope he's able to sleep at least, but a feeling in your gut says he's just as restless as you are. He's probably laid up in bed or on the couch, worrying about you and what the remainder of this week holds. Maybe you should call him. You finish your cig, flicking the butt away before closing the window. You creep out of your room and down the hall. All the lights are off, and everything is deathly quiet. You tiptoe to the phone, quietly picking up the receiver. The dial tone rings in your ear as you punch in Eddie's number. You hope you won't disturb him, your gut has a habit of being wrong at times. It rings once, before he picks up. "Y/N?" He asks, not a fleck of sleep staining his voice. You were right.

"Yeah, it's me. I hope I didn't wake you, love. I just...can't sleep." You speak softly, not wanting to be too loud.

"Yeah, I can't either. I thought about calling you, actually. I didn't wanna wake the whole house." You picture how he looks right now, leaning against the wall in the same pajamas you saw him in earlier today. His hair tousled about from running his hands through it while thinking about you. Fuck, you wish you were over there with him right now.

"I miss you, Eds. I know I spent most of today with you. But it's never enough." You say, knowing he feels exactly the same. The two of you are so in sync now, it's almost scary.

"I know, baby. I always wanna be with you, too." His tone is desperate, like he's a junkie and you're his fix. Is it wrong that it's kinda turning you on?

"Ugh, can it be tomorrow already? I need you." You almost whine, which makes Eddie's breath hitch on the other end.

"Fuck, always a tease, aren't you?" He speaks darkly, and you can practically hear his eyes widening with lust. You sit in the chair beside the phone, settling into it as you might be here a while. "What are you wearing, doll?" He asks, which makes you smirk. This could be fun.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" You say lowly, toying with him. He groans in annoyance, and you roll your eyes before truly answering him. "I'm just in your Hellfire shirt and some panties. What about you?" You bite your lip, waiting for him to respond.

"Wish I could see you for myself, I bet you look gorgeous. But I'm just in my boxers, baby. You know I run hot at night." He says with a chuckle, and you can feel yourself getting wet at the image of him standing at the phone in his underwear.

"What would you do if you were here, Eds? Tell me." You say breathily, your heart beginning to race as the words leave your lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He teases you back, making you giggle. Eddie thinks for a moment, before speaking again. "Well, first I'd lay you down on your bed. And I'd kiss you, slipping my tongue into your mouth." You gasp at his words, picturing his actions perfectly in your mind. "Then, I'd kiss your neck, and mark you as mine. I know you like that, sweetheart." He chuckles.

"I really do. What else?" Your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling a bit harder than normal. Your hand mirrors his actions as best it can, stroking your neck as you wait for his next move.

"Then, I'd take your shirt off, and grab those beautiful tits of yours in my hands...Can you touch them for me, angel?" Eddie asks, blushing at the request. He wishes he could do it himself, but his imagination will have to do. His hand lowers from his hip to his crotch, lightly groping himself through the thin fabric of his underwear.

"Uh-huh." You do as he asks, squeezing the supple flesh in your palm over your shirt. You moan quietly at the feeling, your nipples hardening from the contact. "Fuck, Eddie." You sigh to him through the phone, and the sound makes his cock twitch.

"Does that feel good, princess?" He purrs. You just hum as an answer, wanting him to keep going. "Good. Next, I'd kiss your chest, every last inch of it. And then I'd take your nipple in my mouth, biting just the way you like." Eddie strokes his dick over his underwear, taking his time before fully touching himself.

You mimic what he's saying, reaching beneath your shirt to pinch your nipple between your fingers. "It feels so good, baby." You moan to him, forcing yourself to keep the volume down. You're so unbelievably wet, eager to feel your slick folds with your fingers and pretend that they're Eddie's instead.

"Glad to hear it, darling. Do you want more?" He asks, but he already knows what you're gonna say.

"Yes, please." You beg, your insides set ablaze by this interaction. You've never had phone sex before, and you'd like to think Eddie hasn't either. Although, it seems to come very easy to him.

"That's my good girl. Next thing I'd do is lower my hand real slow, dragging my fingers down your body until I reach your panties." Your own hand follows his path perfectly, hesitating at your waistband. "And then I'd slip inside, feeling how wet you are for me. Can you do that, Y/N? Tell me how wet you are?" Eddie's words come out harsher now, ragged. He's breathing heavily, you swear you can feel it fanning over your flesh in hot waves.

You obey his request, reaching under the fabric with two fingers. You gasp as the tips of them brush against your clit, and you can feel how absolutely drenched you are. "I'm soaked for you, baby. I want you inside me so bad." You hold your fingers still, waiting for him to tell you when you can rub yourself.

Eddie lets himself grip his cock in his hand, stroking it lazily under his boxers. "Such a dirty little slut for me. Begging me to touch you, and fuck you. Rub your clit for me, love." His eyes slip closed as you pant on the other end.

Your fingers swirl around the bundle of nerves in slow circles, and you can't help moaning a little louder this time. It's still subdued, but you want Eddie to hear how much you need him. "Are you touching yourself too, Eds?" You ask, dying to know if this is just as hot for him.

"Yeah, sweetheart. But I wish it was your mouth instead, or your perfect little pussy." He groans, picking up the pace slightly. His words spur you on, and you rub your clit faster.

"So do I. Tell me more." You whine, a familiar pressure building inside your belly.

"Why don't you take a turn, baby? I'm havin’ a hard time focusing at the moment." Eddie replies, hoping you'll play along. He would love to hear you say all the dirty things you want him to do to you.

"Okay." You take a moment to think, though it's difficult to concentrate when you keep stroking yourself. "I'd flip us over so I'm laying on top of you. And I'd kiss your chest, down to your stomach, until I reach your dick. Then I'd lick the tip, before taking all of you in my mouth."

He moans into your ear, you'll never get enough of that sound. "Fuck, that’s perfect. Keep goin’." Eddie encourages you, he can tell you're nervous about doing as well as he did. He pumps himself faster, getting close to the end.

"I'd suck your cock for a while, winding you up with my tongue. But then I'd stop, and take you in my hand. I'd rub you against my pussy, fuck一" You can't believe the things you're saying, but this moment with Eddie is so fucking hot.

"What else?" He needs to know what you're seeing inside your head.

"And then I'd sink down onto your cock, letting you fill me up perfectly like you always do." You finally slip your fingers inside your dripping cunt, moaning again at the sensation. "Oh, Eddie." You whimper, struggling to hold back the obscene noises you want to make.

"More, darling. Be a good girl for me." He almost growls, ordering you to make the two of you cum from your words. You nod, but quickly realize he can't see it.

"I'd start riding you, feel you hit my g-spot over and over. And I'd moan and call your name again and again." The pressure grows higher and higher, you're getting very close. You pump your fingers in and out, in and out. You thrust as fast as you can, a muted stream of moans and curses flowing from your lips. You can't keep this up much longer, the pleasure becoming unbearable. "I'm so close, love." You confess, wondering if he's in the same boat.

"Me too, angel. Tell me you want me." He's jerking himself rapidly in his grip, his orgasm quickly approaching.

"I want you, Eds. More than anything in the world. I want you to kiss me, touch me, fuck me until I can't walk. You always feel so good, you make me cum harder and better than anyone else. I love you so fucking much, baby." Your mouth spews filthy sentences haphazardly, your brain is in overdrive. You pump your digits harder, faster as you chase your high.

"I love you, too, babydoll. You're so fuckin' perfect, and sexy. I always wanna be near you, making you happy. I can't get enough of you, especially when you're making those beautiful noises." He matches your energy, you always rev each other up like nothing else on earth. His breath is stuttering, his release imminent. "You gonna cum for me, princess?" He asks, unable to hold himself back any longer. "Fuck, Y/N." He grunts, his load emptying into his boxers and making a mess on his hand.

Hearing Eddie lose control is what finally pulls the pin on your own high. "Oh, god!" You moan one last time, waves of ecstasy crashing into you. Your legs shake, and your walls pulse around your fingers. Arousal pools in your palm, spilling to soak through your panties. Your body washes over in a light sheen of sweat, and you gulp in air as your orgasm subsides. You fall limp against the chair, gripping the phone tightly in your hand. You both breathe heavily in each other's ears, trying to calm down. You slowly pull your fingers out of your aching hole, whimpering at how sensitive you are.

"You okay, baby?" Eddie asks, catching his breath.

"Yeah, more than okay. Have you ever done this before?" You can't help your curiosity getting the best of you. You like to think most things you and Eddie do together are things neither of you have done with anyone else. At the end of the day, you suppose it doesn't matter. But you want to know, for some strange reason, it feels important.

"Nope. Only with you, my love." He says with a smirk, which makes your heart melt.

"Well, you're very good at it." You reply, failing to repress a yawn. You're extremely relaxed now, in utter bliss.

"Aw, are you all tuckered out now, sweetheart?" He coos, remembering how late it is. "You should probably get to bed. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"I know, I will. You should, too. You are my ride, after all." You say just as lovingly.

He scoffs in offense. "Is that all I am to you? A set of wheels to cart you around?" You know he's far from serious, always a smartass.

"No." You say simply, biting your lip as you contemplate whether or not to say what you're thinking. "You've also got an amazing cock." You laugh, prompting him to as well.

"Jesus, Y/N! I'm gonna have to punish you if you keep it up." His tongue pokes into his cheek, relishing how perfectly vulgar you are.

"You better, or else I'll be extremely disappointed." You just can't help yourself, you love pushing his buttons. But you're finding it hard to keep your eyes open, so you decide to wrap this up and finally get some sleep. "I should head to bed, though, Eds. I love you, and I'll see you in the morning."

"I love you too, angel. I'll be there bright and early for ya." You both hesitate to hang up, it's always hard to say goodbye. "Sweet dreams, Y/N." Eddie breaks the silence, forcing you to let go.

"Goodnight, Eddie." And with that, you hang up at the same time. You return to your room, tossing your underwear into the hamper before slipping under the covers once more. Your head hits the pillow like a brick, and you're out like a light.

Tuesday, April 11th,1989

Today goes about the same as yesterday. Eddie drives you to school, and you kick ass at the exam. Dad doesn't make an appearance this time, which you're highly grateful for. And once you've finished, you return to the parking lot where your handsome boyfriend awaits you. You and Eddie share a smoke, and he drives you somewhere semi-secluded. It's just some random alley downtown, you're both too impatient to go all the way to the lake or the woods. The two of you scramble to the back clumsily, and proceed to fuck like your lives depend on it.

It's hot, messy, and wild. Bites and scratches quickly litter your bodies, desperately attempting to squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of each other. The van rocks on its wheels, and you're doing nothing to conceal any noise. Part of you wants the whole damn town 一or the world, for that matter一 to hear how deep and intense your love is. You're essentially tumbling around, repeatedly switching positions and going multiple rounds with an occasional smoke break. You're sweating more than you ever thought possible, constantly panting and moaning as you keep it up. Your hair is soaked through, clinging to your face and neck. The windows have all fogged to hell, nobody can see in even if they wanted to. When you've had your fifth orgasm, you have to tap out. You collapse onto the blankets, reaching for another cigarette.

"Jesus christ. That. Was. Amazing." Eddie says between deep breaths, taking the pack from you to get a smoke of his own. He lights yours up before his own, and you simultaneously inhale very long drags as the cherry on top of a perfect afternoon.

"Fuckin' fantastic." You reply with a chuckle, completely exhausted. You gaze up at him from the floor, seeing him glisten as he leans against the side of the van. He smiles at you, blowing rings of smoke into the air. His knee is propped up, his free arm resting over it. He's so sexy without even trying, unintentionally posing like a goddamn Greek statue or something.

"What?" Eddie asks, noticing your eyes lingering as you take in his form.

"You're just gorgeous, baby. Truly a work of art." You say earnestly. His eyes widen at the sentiment, and his cheeks turn rosy.

"Um...thank you. You're not so bad yourself,sweetheart." He smiles uncontrollably, hiding his face with his hair.

You can't help giggling at his reaction, he has no idea how to take a compliment. He'll happily shower you with them, but he gets all flustered once the tables are turned. "God, you're adorable." You groan as you get up, shuffling over to sit beside him. You lay your head on his naked shoulder, and he places his head on top just so. You stay like this for a while, smoking and keeping light conversation. Your stomach growls loudly, which makes Eddie laugh.

"You hungry? I think we've worked up quite an appetite." He nuzzles against you, kissing your damp hair.

"Starving. I would kill for some diner food right now." Your mouth salivates at the thought of a burger and fries, or some waffles. Maybe both, even better.

"You got it, babe." Eddie reaches for his boxers, struggling to slip them on his drenched skin. He makes an odd face, uncomfortable with redressing when he's covered in sweat. "You think we could run to the trailer for a quick shower first?" He suggests.

"That's fine. It's probably best to hose off so we don't scare the tight-asses with the stench of sex." You poke fun, but you're not feeling particularly clean at the moment, either. Luckily, you brought some extra clothes since you plan to stay the night at Eddie's place.

The two of you redress and head over to his place to freshen up. You tiptoe down the hall so as not to wake Wayne up, he worked another extra shift yesterday and needs his rest. You keep the shower brief, resisting the urge to heat things up again as your stomach continues to growl louder and louder. Eddie's joins in on the song of hunger, which kicks him into high gear to get to the diner ASAP.

A perky waitress named Darlene escorts you to a booth in the corner of the Denny's once you walk in the door. "And what can I get y'all to drink?" She speaks with a slight twang. She looks to you and Eddie expectantly, her bright blue eyes sparkling with customer service.

"I'll have a water, and an Orange juice, please." You say to her. She asks Eddie what he wants, and he gets the same.

"Alrighty, then! I'll be back with your drinks in a bit." Darlene replies, turning on her modest heels to retrieve your beverages.

"She's bubbly." You comment to Eddie, unable to hide a smirk. He mirrors you, opening up the sticky menu the waitress put on the table.

"What were you thinking, love?" He asks, unsure himself what he wants. Everything sounds pretty damn good right about now.

"Hmm, it's hard to decide. A burger and fries sounds good, but so do the strawberry waffles." You bite your lip, unable to choose. Eddie chuckles, closing the menu back up.

"We can get both and split 'em, if you want. You're practically drooling." You gaze at him bashfully, and he reaches a hand across the table to hold yours. Your fingers interlace in reflex, an action you've done at least a hundred times. "It's alright, baby. I love how insatiable you are, remember?"

"I know. You're just so sweet, and giving. I doubt those are what you'd pick."

"How do you know? You didn't ask." He smiles kindly at you, but the words sting you a little. You know he didn't mean it as a slight, but maybe it should be.

"What were you thinking of getting?" You ask, wanting to right the selfishness you feel you've displayed.

"You won't believe me if I tell you." He says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek playfully. But you insist, giving him a serious look to get him to answer your question. "I was thinking the same, angel. We're eerily alike, ya know."

"You're right, I absolutely do not believe you. But I'll take it, if it makes me look like less of an asshole." You chuckle, just as Darlene returns with your drinks. She sets them on the table, and you notice just how low-cut her uniform is as she bends over. Your eyes snap to Eddie, who is purposely avoiding her chest. You giggle at his eyes drifting to the ceiling, seemingly finding something very interesting up there.

"Are y'all ready to order?" Darlene asks sweetly, pen and pad in hand as she stands upright. Eddie relays the order to her, and she smiles wider than before as he speaks. Once she's written it all out, she almost skips back to the kitchen to put the ticket in.

"I saw that, Eds." You comment, and his eyes go wide as he meets your gaze. "Relax, babe. I appreciate you doing your best not to stare at Darlene's tits. I'd be lying if I said you weren't missing out." You joke, making him scoff slightly.

"Pardon me for trying to be a gentleman, Y/N. But it’s interesting to know you look at other women that way." He says cheekily.

"Don't get any ideas, Munson. I'm able to appreciate the female form. Sounds like someone might be a little jealous, though." You're playing with fire, Eddie’s definitely the protective type. He's never said anything, but he notices how other guys look at you when you're out on the town with him or walking to his van in the college parking lot. Whenever it happens, his grip on your hand tightens slightly, or he'll kiss you a little harder than usual. You don't mind it, it's actually kinda hot that he finds you so desirable to others. You've never seen yourself that way, but Eddie clearly does.

"No way. The farmer's daughter is totally not your type. Now, maybe Nancy Wheeler, or even Robin would suit you..." He realizes what he's saying, probably sounding like a chauvinistic jerk by picturing you with other women. He sighs, shaking the train of thought away. "Sorry, I dunno why this matters. But I'm not jealous, because I know you only want me." He says matter-of-factly.

"You're damn right I do. I was mainly joking, you know. I just can't resist messing with you sometimes." You snort, reaching for your juice. A little later, Darlene brings out the burger and waffles.

"Here we go! Is there anythin' else I can get for ya?" She asks, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. You've got to be kidding me. Your eyes flare in sudden anger, but you resist stabbing her with your fork. He gently shrugs her off, letting her know you won't be needing anything else besides the check when you're finished. Darlene gives you an odd look, startled by your glare. She scurries away, retreating to the hostess station.

"Whore." You mutter as Eddie cuts the burger in half with the steak knife. His hand stutters at your envy, causing the blade to squeak against the plate.

"Now who's jealous?" He remarks, half-joking. He can tell you're in no mood for it. It's one thing for her to essentially flash him. But to put her hand on your man? Absolutely not.

"You're damn right I'm jealous! Who does she think she is, touching you like that? Fuckin' bitch, she knows I'm sitting right here." You grumble. You don't blame Eddie one bit, he was visibly uncomfortable with Darlene groping him like that.

"Baby, relax. She's probably trying to get a bigger tip. She won't, though. I don't like being touched by strangers." He reassures you, pushing the plate your way so you can enjoy your half of the burger while he attacks the waffles for a bit. You nod, still vibrating with anger. Luckily your appetite is still intact, and you harshly bite into the juicy beef patty. You moan at the greasy goodness as it touches your tastebuds, eyes closing as you calm yourself further. You definitely needed this. "Better?" Eddie asks, mouth half-full of sweet, strawberry delight.

"Much." You answer flatly, focusing on putting food in your stomach. You quickly polish off the burger, and a few fries. You wipe your face, before swapping plates to enjoy some of the waffles. Eddie watches you carefully, observing as the fattening food gradually brings your anger levels down. You really are a loose cannon sometimes. He can be, too, if the circumstances are right. But lately you've been quick to fly off the handle, ready to start swinging instead of talking yourself down. You take one last bite of waffle, sliding the plate back over to let Eddie finish the rest. You're very full, and much happier than you were when Darlene last left the table. "Fuck, that was good." You let out a satisfied sigh, watching the little slut come by with the check. She sets it down without a word, quickly walking away while avoiding eye contact with either of you. That's right, keep walking, bitch. You smirk to yourself, glad you’ve scared her away.

Eddie finishes up, leaving cash on the table to pay the bill and leading you back out to the van. "Are you alright, love? You had me worried in there." He asks, stopping off to the side of the entrance to have a smoke. He offers you one, which you happily take.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I'm a little more possessive than I thought." You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs completely. Eddie wraps his arm around you, holding you closer to him.

"I know what the waitress did was wrong, sweetheart. But you got really angry, really fast in there. Kinda freaked me out." He speaks honestly, hoping it's not gonna hurt your feelings.

You sigh, taking a moment to absorb what he's saying. He's right, you've been a ticking time bomb lately. It's so annoying, really. You don't wanna be like this, but everything is feeling a thousand times stronger than it actually is these last few days. "I'm sorry. It's like I'm dialed up to eleven lately. The highs are ridiculously high, and the lows are painfully low. I feel like I'm going crazy." You chuckle wryly, continuing to smoke in his comforting hold.

"You're not crazy, love. I just wanted to know what's goin' on with you. This week in particular isn't proving to be as easy as we were hoping. But I'm gonna be with you through all of it. I promise." He turns you to face him, looking deep into your eyes. His arm lowers to your waist to bring your chest flush to his, and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. You melt into it, the ash on your cigarette growing rather long as you neglect it.

"MUNSON!" You hear an angry voice shout from across the parking lot. You break away from the kiss, looking to find Jason Carver stomping over to you. Shit, this can't be good. You think back to your dream, quickly checking to see if Jason has a gun in his hands. But no, he's just got his fists balled at his sides. He's wearing a tacky business suit, and his face burns bright red in contrast to his slicked blonde hair. "Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?" He shouts again, stopping about six feet away from you.

"I dunno what you're talking about, dude. I'm just here havin' lunch with my beautiful girlfriend." Eddie winks at you, not at all concerned.

"Bullshit! You know exactly what I'm talking about! Chrissy told me everything, about how you were gonna take her away from me!" He gets closer to Eddie, almost spitting in his face as he speaks angrily. His eyes flick to you. "And you. You're the one who put this silly idea in her head to leave in the first place! You should know to stay in your lane, metalmouth!" He screams at you, making you flinch. You haven't heard that awful nickname in years. You wish you could say it doesn't hurt as bad as it did back in the day.

"Leave her alone, jerkoff. It's not our fault you beat your wife, like the lowlife you are." Eddie retorts, which earns him a firm punch in the nose from Jason. He shouts in pain, his nostrils gushing blood.

"Oh my god!" You scream, trying to inspect his injury. He brushes you off, sniffing harshly before standing his ground. Blood drips onto his shirt, but he's more than willing to kick Jason's ass if he needs to.

"Still a little bitch, I see. Lemme guess, you beat the truth out of Chrissy, right? She was gonna leave your sorry ass, and take your son somewhere far away. Correct?" You wish Eddie would shut up for his own sake, but he just won't.

"Eddie, please. Let's just go, I don't want you to get hurt." You try to pull him away, but Jason interjects.

"Stay outta this, Y/N! This is between me and him." Jason pokes Eddie's chest harshly, pushing him further.

"Get your fuckin' hand off of me, Carver." Eddie warns, his eyes turning angry with a dark intensity.

"What are you gonna do about it, Munson?" Jason taunts, shoving Eddie backwards into the wall of the restaurant.

"God, you sound like we're still in high school. Peaked early, did you? How predictable." Eddie continues to taunt. Why the hell is Eddie egging him on like this? He's gonna get hurt, or worse.

"Fuck you!" Jason screams, landing another punch. It knocks Eddie's face to the side, getting him right in the left eye. "At least I have a job!" Another punch, this time to the jaw which makes him spit out blood. "And a house!" Another blow, to his stomach this time. "And a family!" A second punch to the jaw. "And you have nothing!" Eddie grunts in pain with every hit, letting himself get beaten to a pulp. He refuses to fight back, and you can't figure out why. You keep screaming at Jason to stop, but he refuses. You don't know what to do. You can't take Jason out, there's no convenient statues lying around to knock him in the head with. A few other patrons have stepped outside to see what the ruckus is about, along with a couple waitresses. You look at them, tears streaming down your face.

"Call the police!" You beg, and a waitress runs back inside to get to the phone. "Jason, stop it! It was Chrissy's choice to leave! We just wanted to help her." You try to reason with him, sobbing as he continues to hurt Eddie.

"You don't know what you're talking about! Chrissy is mine, and she's not going anywhere." You hear the vile smugness in his voice. He likes hurting her. He thinks he owns her.

"Chrissy is NOT your property!" You scream. You're once again overcome with rage, pushing yourself between Jason and Eddie. You kick Jason in the crotch as hard as you can, making him crumble to the ground. "Come on, Eds. Get back inside while we wait for the cops. Please." Your voice trembles, you cannot believe you just did that. But you can't bear to hear Jason speak like that about Chrissy and mercilessly kick Eddie's ass. You both turn to go back in, when Jason grabs you by the back of your shirt. He tugs you out of Eddie's grip, slamming you down onto the asphalt with a hard smack.

"You're not going anywhere, bitch! You messed with the wrong man, and now you're gonna fucking pay!" He stands over you, your head throbbing painfully from the impact. You feel sick, you might have a concussion. You can't say anything, the pain is too much. "Just like old times, huh? The geek and the freak. But you can bet your ass I won't lose this time." He smirks sickeningly, and you're annoyed that he doesn't have a scratch on him. Suddenly, Eddie tackles Jason to the ground.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Eddie yells, and you watch him pin Jason down, before absolutely wailing on him. He lands punch after punch, grunting as he swings his fists down onto Jason's face as hard as he can. You can't stand up, everything is spinning. It looks like you're watching three Eddies on top of three Jasons. "You bastard! You don't hurt her! You piece of shit! You're a fucking bully, and that's all you'll ever be!"

The world is slowly fading to black, just as you hear the police sirens approaching the diner. You pass out, the unfocused image of Eddie defending your honor being the last thing you see.

Part 12.2: Mad World

You slowly regain consciousness, hearing the beep of a heart rate monitor as your eyes flutter open. You groan at the harsh lights in your eyes, looking side to side to see where the hell you are. "Oh my god, sugarpuff!" You hear Mom's voice, she's sitting in a chair beside your hospital bed. She rushes to your side, taking hold of your hand.

"What the hell happened?" You ask, trying to remember how you got here. You think back, gluing the shattered pieces of what happened today back together. You recall the exam, lots of sex, greasy food, and一 "Where's Eddie?" You ask in a panic, picturing Jason beating the shit out of him before the tables turned.

"Shh, Y/N. He's okay. Well, he's got a broken nose and some cuts and bruises. He's down at the police station for questioning. What the hell were you two doing getting in a fight with that awful Carver boy?" She interrogates, needing you to clear things up. You try to sit up, but you're feeling extremely woozy. Mom notices you gagging, reaching for the bucket the nurse left in your room for you to puke into. There goes lunch, and it certainly doesn't taste as good coming back up. You keep the bucket on your lap in case you need it again. There's a horrible, radiating pain in the back of your head. You're about to reach behind and touch it, when Mom swats your hand. "Don't touch the stitches! You'll get them infected!" She's definitely pissed at you, and scared. You've never been one to get in trouble like this, you've always been a good egg.

"Stitches?" You ask dumbly, realizing you probably split your head open when Jason pulled you down. You inhale sharply, realizing just how serious the situation is. "Okay, um. I know this looks bad, but it's not what it seems." You say as you look at her angry face. You've never seen her so upset at you before. You can probably kiss that six-month promise goodbye.

"Then please, tell me what the hell is going on. And don't leave anything out!" She barks, and you let her know about everything. Jason abusing Chrissy, you and Eddie trying to help her leave, Jason confronting you. Her face softens as you clear the cloud of confusion for her, the anger slowly dissipating with it. "Why didn't you come to me, Y/N? I could've helped you go to the police."

"There was no guarantee going to the cops would've done anything, Mom. We were waiting for Chrissy to have a plan before getting her out of there. If there was even a chance of Jason knowing what she was up to, it would've made things worse." But you suppose they are either way now. "Is Jason at the station, too?" You ask, wondering if he’s managed to weasel his way out of responsibility for his end of the fight.

"Yes. The police need to speak to you as well. Obviously, they've had to wait for you to be conscious again, but they said to bring you once the doctor clears you." Mom answers, regaining some of her terseness.

“Shit, Mom! Get them in here. I need to go right now. I have to tell them everything, and help Eddie get out." You speak in a mania, trying to rip out your IV and locate your clothes. You remove the heart rate monitor, and it starts acting as if you've died, making obnoxious noises.

"Y/N, slow down! You have to wait for the doctor!" Mom tries to stop you, keep you from hurting yourself. But you're too high on adrenaline to let anyone get in your way. You need to be with Eddie, now.

"Mom, please! I have to tell them it's not Eddie's fault! I don't want him to be punished for something he didn't even start." You manage to stand up, pushing past her to dig around in the plastic bag containing your personal effects. You don't even care about the curtains being open, you're getting dressed come hell or high water.

The doctors come rushing in, attempting to force you back into bed. But you scream bloody murder, telling them you need to leave right now. You back yourself into a corner, flailing your limbs when they attempt to get close to you. One of them calms you enough to ask you the typical concussion questions. Who is the president? What year is it? What is your address? You answer every single one without hesitation, continuing to strip off your hospital gown and put your clothes back on in their full view. Embarrassment and modesty have flown out the window, the need to help your boyfriend has overridden everything else. "Can I fucking go now!?" You shout once you've fully dressed, and the doctors begrudgingly let Mom take you out of here. They give you some pain meds, and tell you to take it easy as you storm out the door barefoot.

"Y/N, slow down! You can't get there on foot!" Mom yells, calling to Dustin who was on his way back from the vending machines. He runs over, wondering what's going on. He sees you booking it for the car, cursing under his breath. He can't see your face, but he already knows you're determined to go to the damn police station right this second. Nothing and no one will stop you. You reach the car, clutching your bag which holds your purse and shoes and the little paper bag the doctor gave you. You yank on the door, it doesn't budge. Of course, it's locked at the worst possible time.

"Hurry up! I need to clear everything up for these assholes!" You can't stop yelling, it's your default volume at this point. Mom hurries to the driver's side, fumbling with the keys to unlock the car. The three of you hop in, seatbelts and all. You put your shoes on while Mom drives, luckily the station isn't far from here. Your knee bobs up and down, anxiously waiting for the building to come into view. Before Mom can stop the car fully in a parking space, you open your door and run inside to find Eddie.

"Y/N!" They both call after you, running to catch up once the car is parked. You go to the front desk, finding a rather disinterested secretary sitting behind it.

"I'm here to give a statement about the fight at the Denny's." You say simply, hoping she knows what you're talking about. She looks you over suspiciously through her thick glasses, noticing the tape from the IV still sticking to your arm.

"Uh...yes, just let me check with Chief Powell." She says, standing up to leave you at reception. You pound your hand on the desk, needing her to listen.

"Please, it's urgent! My boyfriend is in there!" You beg, it's a wonder you haven't turned into a puddle of tears yet. She nods when she figures out who you're referring to and leads you down the hall. You turn the corner, finding Eddie cuffed to a chair. "Oh my god, Eddie!" He looks up at you, and you see the awful state he's in. His lip is busted, and there's a cast on his nose. His left eye is swollen shut, an uneasy shade of purple. And there's thick gauze wrapped around his knuckles. "Shit, Eds. You look terrible." You coo at him, kneeling at his side.

"You should see the other guy." He chuckles, before remembering where he last saw you. "What the fuck are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the hospital!" He says, concern tainting his voice. But you just shake your head rapidly. It makes you nauseous again, which isn't helping. You choke the bile back down, speaking shakily.

"I couldn't stay there. I'm all stitched up, I'm fine. I had to come and be here for you. Did they talk to you already?" You want to take his hands in yours, but you don't want to hurt him. They're stuck together at his side, the link of the cuffs trapped under the armrest so he won't run off.

"Yeah, Jason, too. And some others from the restaurant. They're bringing Chrissy in as well. But so far, it's not looking great for me. The pigs tackled my ass when they got there, assuming I started it. Hopefully some of the other people there didn't fuck me over. And having you talk to them should help. Just一 don't tell them anything about the drugs. Please." He warns, and you nod in agreement. You're sure Chrissy will know to leave that little detail out as well. It would only get her and Eddie into more trouble.

"Y/N Henderson? Come with us, please." You hear Chief Powell speak behind you, and you turn to look at him. His expression tells you he's none too pleased with having to handle a fucking fight taking place in a Denny's parking lot on a Tuesday afternoon. You stand, quickly walking into the interrogation room to answer their questions. You share one last look with Eddie, trying your best to give him a smile. Though it probably comes out more like a grimace. You take a seat, and Powell and another officer sit across from you. "Alright, let's get started." Powell says, clasping his hands together on the table. "So, tell us in your own words what happened this afternoon."

You swallow hard, cops always make you nervous. "Well, um, me and Eddie had gone to the Denny's to have lunch. When we were leaving, we had a smoke in the parking lot. That's when Jason showed up." You stop to breathe, Powell's eyes staying on you. You continue. "He was angry at us, Eddie in particular."

"And why was that?" The Chief interjects.

"Because we had seen Chrissy a few weeks ago in passing, I don't remember where. But she had bruises on her arms, and when we talked to her about Jason and their marriage, it seemed like she was being abused." You answer apprehensively.

"By Jason?" He says to keep the flow of questioning going.

You nod. "Yes. She did get angry and deny it. But a few days later, she found my number in the phone book. She asked us to help her once she had a plan of escape."

"And up until now, Jason had no idea about this?" He asks, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

"No." You shake your head. "She even said not to call the house in case he picked up. She knew he'd do something really bad if he found out."

"Did she say what that would be?"

"I dunno, hurt her again? Kill her, maybe? Does it really matter?" You don't mean to catch an attitude, but you wish these officers were taking this a little more seriously. It's almost like they're trying to justify Jason coming after Eddie.

"We just want to get the facts straight." Powell says with a warning tone. You nod like a scolded child, trying not to blush in embarrassment. "Now, what happened after Jason showed up?"

"He was yelling, saying we were taking Chrissy away from him. Eddie wasn't taking his shit seriously, and Jason hit him. First in the nose, then the jaw, and stomach. Jason landed a few more punches, I think. I dunno, it all happened so fast." You pause again, gauging their reaction. But their faces don't show much emotion at all. "And then Jason was talking like he owned Chrissy, and that made me angry. And I wanted him to stop hurting Eddie. So I got between them, and kicked Jason in the balls." The other officer in the room, whose name tag reads 'Callahan', bursts out laughing. You suppose it's amusing to him that a little thing like yourself would be so bold to kick a large man in the nuts. Powell shoots him a disapproving look, which stills the laughter immediately. Callahan clears his throat, regaining focus.

"And then what happened?" Powell asks, easing you along to the end of the story.

"Me and Eddie tried to go back inside, I'd had one of the waitresses call you guys before I did what I did. But Jason grabbed me by my shirt, and slammed me to the ground. He split my head open, by the way. I've got stitches and everything." You turn your head to let them see, which makes them audibly wince. You can't imagine it looks pretty, and you sense small chunks of hair are missing. Hopefully a trip to the salon to even it out will help.

"And then?"

"And then Eddie tackled him, and started punching him over and over. He got so angry, and I couldn't move because I got a concussion. The world was spinning, and I blacked out." You finish painting your version of the picture for them, but at the end of it you can't tell if they’ve actually listened. "I promise, this isn't Eddie's fault. He was just trying to protect me. He didn't throw a single hit until after I got hurt."

"Do you want to press charges against Mr. Carver?" Powell asks, trying his best to appear stoic yet sympathetic. He truly feels for you. But given Jason's affluent status in the community, he worries Eddie might pay a hefty cost.

"Um, I dunno. Is he gonna get in trouble for abusing Chrissy?" You ask, watching their faces closely to see any indication of such a thing coming to fruition.

"Well, we can't say much about that. We haven't even talked to her yet. But if she does corroborate what you've said, then, yes, he will be arrested and charged for assault and domestic abuse. Your boyfriend, on the other hand..." The Chief's words stop, he can't help wanting to let Eddie go when he sees the desperate look on your face. You don't want Eddie to be in trouble, it's not even his fault. He was just defending you, that shouldn't be a crime. "Mr. Carver wants to press charges against him." You scoff at the thought. Of course he does. He puts a hand up to reassure you, giving a small smile. "However, given the fact that Mr. Carver started the fight, I doubt it'll hold up in court or even make it to trial."

You nod, taking this all in. You hope Chrissy comes through for you. You imagine she's not looking too pretty herself at the moment. "Okay. Is there anything else you need from me? Can me and Eddie go home now?" You ask, pleading with your eyes to appeal to Powell's softer side.

"You're free to go, for now. I suggest the two of you stay outta trouble if you know what's good for you. Munson is very lucky he has you to plead his case." Powell says with a small smile. He leads the way back to Eddie, and lets him free of the handcuffs.

"Thanks. I typically only use those in the bedroom." Eddie jokes while rubbing his bruised wrists. The Chief doesn't find it amusing, scoffing before he leaves the two of you alone.

"Thank fuck." You sigh in relief, and Eddie quickly captures you in a suffocating hug. You squeeze him just as hard, not wanting to let go. Those tears you've been saving up finally come out to play. You sob long and hard against his chest, soaking through his bloodied shirt. This whole week has just been blow after blow, literally. You swear you can't take much more of this, or you're gonna snap. Eddie holds you close, rocking you back and forth to try and calm you down.

"Let's go home, okay?" He whispers, and you nod as you continue to let everything out on him. He leads the way, despite his impaired vision. Wayne pulls into the parking lot just as you step outside, rushing to get out of his truck.

"Lord, almighty! What the fuck have you got yourself into, Edward?" He asks, just as bemused as everyone else has been today. "And fuckin' A, you look like you got your ass handed to ya." His eyes flick to you, and he stops himself from blowing up when he sees just how hard you're crying. He sighs, wiping his calloused hands down his face. His tone relaxes, saving the questions and lecture for later. "Jesus christ. Just get in the truck, dipshit. You too, Y/N."

"I gotta let Mom know where I'm going." You say flatly, not really sure what the plan is. You have your next test tomorrow, and the pre-funeral dinner. Eddie's van is still at the diner, and neither of you can drive it anywhere. The two men nod, letting you have a moment with Mom and Dustin.

"You okay, sugarpuff?" Mom asks, and you can't manage to do much besides shake your head. You wish none of this had happened, everything's all fucked up. You keep the tears at bay for now, wanting to calm down. Your nerves are absolutely frayed, sending random signals of panic to your brain.

"Are you gonna go with Eddie?" Dustin asks, his worried expression making your heart sink.

"Yeah. We're gonna figure out our plan for tomorrow. His van is stuck at the restaurant, and clearly we aren't in any condition to drive." You chuckle dryly, though you don't find your words funny whatsoever.

"Well, if you two come home tonight, I can drive you to your test tomorrow. And then I can bring you back and we'll all pile in the car for dinner later on. Sound good?" Mom suggests, and you thank her for the simple solution.

"That'll be perfect, Mom. I don't wanna be away from him right now, but Wayne's schedule doesn't help me get to school on time. We'll be over later, just put my stuff in my room for now." You reply, giving them both a big hug before getting into Wayne's truck with Eddie sandwiching you in the middle.

You tell Wayne the plan as he drives you all back to the trailer, and he's more than happy to drive you to your house on his way to work tonight. Eddie takes hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly despite his injuries. You put your head on his shoulder, mimicking your position from earlier today. You can't help crying again, you feel so fucking tired as the adrenaline that’s shocked your system wears off completely. Eddie whispers sweet nothings in your ear, doing everything he can to console you.

The three of you walk through the door, and Wayne asks you both to sit down and explain to him why in the hell the cops called him in the middle of his sleep. You lay out the situation for the third time today, utterly sick of repeating the same fucking words. But just like the other two audiences you've had, Wayne is easily sympathetic as opposed to angry. He lets you and Eddie retreat to his room, and you're helping pack some clothes for him for the next few days. "I didn't ask before, but what were you trying to do, Eds?" You ask as you pull out some shirts and boxers from his dresser and put them into a duffle bag.

"Well, I was trying to let Jason throw all the punches so he would be the one in the handcuffs. I had no intention of hitting him at all, until he hurt you. All I could see was red after that." He explains, sitting on the edge of his bed as you gather his things.

"Well, it was really stupid. Sweet, but stupid." You reply, trying to ignore the pounding in your head.

"How are your stitches?" He asks, and you show your back to him so he can get a good look. "Jesus, the asshole really did a number on you." His tone is heartbroken, he hates that you ended up getting hurt in all this.

"I'm guessing it's a good thing I can't see them, huh? Everyone keeps making weird sounds or comments about it. I'll need a haircut when they heal up." You don't mean to sound so annoyed, but you're exhausted and in pain. This day started out so sweet, and ended up a bloodbath. "How are you feeling? Mom said you've got a broken nose."

"Well, my face hurts a lot, and my hands. And I gotta keep this cast on my nose for a week, so that's fun." Eddie's just as done with today as you are, all he wants is to sleep with you in his arms. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know Jason started it, but now I've gotten us tangled up in all this mess." His voice breaks, and you realize he's the one crying now. You stop packing, sitting beside him on the edge of the mattress.

"Baby, it's okay. You were just looking out for me. And technically I got us into this when I convinced Chrissy to try to leave him." You cup his cheek, wiping the tears away from his good eye.

Eddie's body shudders as he's falling to pieces before you. "But you got hurt, and it's all my fault!" He insists, you've never seen him like this before. He's so upset with himself, it's his job to look out for you. To protect you. And he failed. He's becoming inconsolable, wailing and sobbing like a lost child. You're sure he'd be holding his face in his hands if it wasn't so messed up.

You have to calm him down, he'll make himself sick if he keeps going like this. "It's not your fault, love. Let's lay down, okay?" You speak softly to him, taking his wrists to lead him further onto the bed. He lets you maneuver him, laying his head on the pillows as he continues to sob. You lie down behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Usually this goes the other way around, but Eddie needs you to hold him. He's always taken care of you when you're sad or ill, and it's your turn now. Your hands rest on his chest, stroking him over his shirt to soothe him. Your leg lays over his, trying to cover him with your warmth. "It's okay, Eds. Everything's gonna be okay." You coo in his ear, nuzzling his neck with your chin.

The two of you lay like this for what feels like hours. You repeat your words over and over, your hands continuously caressing his trembling body. Eddie stopped sobbing a while ago, but he's shaking uncontrollably. He's far from cold, he's full of fear and anxiety now. What kind of man is he if he can't even keep you safe from an asshole like Jason? What if whatever Chrissy has to say isn't enough? And Jason is free to come find you again and do something much worse? That thought scares the living hell out of him. "I'm sorry." He whispers in a hoarse voice, his throat hurts from crying so much.

"You don't have to apologize. I promise, it's not your fault. Just relax, darling. We've both had a long day." Your heart aches for him, you wish he wouldn't blame himself.

Wayne knocks on the door. "Hey kiddos, be ready in five." You plant a gentle kiss on the back of Eddie's neck before getting out of bed to finish getting his things ready. Eddie rolls over to look at you, his lip still quivering.

"Do you still love me, Y/N?" He asks, which takes you aback. Why would he ask such a thing?

"Of course I do! You really think I'm gonna stop loving you over something like this?" You're genuinely curious where his head's at, this whole ordeal has rocked him to his core.

"I dunno. Maybe you should." His gaze shifts away from yours, and you take a moment to figure out how to respond. You zip up his bag, kneeling at the side of the bed to force him to meet your eyes.

"Eddie. I love you more than anything in the world, okay? I'm not going anywhere, except with you to my house. I've told you before, there's nothing you could do to scare me away, and I mean that with all my heart. C'mon, Wayne's waiting." You lean forward to kiss his forehead, the rest of his face is inaccessible at the moment.

"Okay." He sounds unconvinced, but you don't have the energy to go back and forth on this with him. You just wanna go home, eat some food and take your meds, and then pass out in bed with Eddie. You've got too big of a day ahead of you tomorrow, and this week can't possibly get any worse. You help him stand up, his feet scuffing against the floor as you pull him along. He slings his bag over his shoulder, letting you drag him outside to the truck.

The ride to your house is silent, but there's unspoken tension hanging in the air. It could be Wayne's disappointment, or Eddie's melancholy. You can't quite place it, though it's unsettling to say the least. To be honest, you don't care to find out what it is. You can barely keep your eyes open at this point, your metaphorical tank is reading at a big, blinking 'E'. You'll have to puzzle it all out tomorrow. "Here ya go, kiddos. Please, don't get into any more trouble?" Wayne implores, taking hold of your hand while giving you a serious look. He's asking you to keep an eye on Eddie, make sure he doesn't do anything else stupid. You nod, and he lets you two go inside.

"Hey, sugarpuff! I left your stuff in your room like you asked." Mom announces as you walk through the door. She's making chicken alfredo for dinner, stirring her homemade sauce at the stove top.

"Thanks, Mom. We'll be in there until dinner's ready." You give her a weak smile as you pass by, holding Eddie's hand as you mindlessly pull him down the hall. He hasn't said another word, not even acknowledging Mom or Dustin when he walked inside with you. He's taking today really hard, and you don't know how to snap him out of it. You don't want him to pretend to be okay if he's not, but you feel like he's being too hard on himself. You shut your bedroom door, gently moving Eddie to sit down on your bed.

You kneel before him, slipping off his shoes. "What are you doing?" He asks, staring down at you with no clear expression on his face. It's more like he's looking through you, like you're not really here. His voice is monotone, which you've never heard out of him before.

"I'm helping you get into something more comfortable, love. I doubt you want to stay in bloody clothes all night." You remove his socks, putting them in your hamper. You do the same with his shirt, carefully positioning his arms to pull it over his head.

"Okay." He replies, allowing you to manipulate his body like a mannequin. You pull off his jeans, which are covered in dirt from the parking lot. You retrieve some cozy pajamas from his bag, dressing him back up. When you're finished, you sit beside him.

"There. All better." You try to smile, lighten the mood. But he stays the same, almost catatonic. "Eddie?" You ask, wanting him to look at you. He turns his head in your direction.

"Yes?" He says flatly, which is really freaking you out now.

"Is there anything I can do, love?" You desperately search for something, anything to indicate emotion in him.

"No." You know it shouldn't, but that singular word feels like a slap in the face.

"Do you want to be here?" You put a hand on his knee, and this question appears to chip through the layer of ice he's put up.

"Yes." His own hand lays over yours. Finally, a sign of life.

"Okay. Can you stop shutting me out, then?" You ask, coming off a little more annoyed than you mean to. But he nods, forcing himself to soften up a little.

"Sorry, I'm not meaning to. I'm just having a hard time today." His voice catches, he really doesn't want to cry anymore.

"I know, darling. That's what I'm here for. We work through things together, remember?" You squeeze his leg gently, and he nods again.

"Yeah, I do." Eddie gives his best attempt at a smile, pulling you into him so he can wrap his arms over you. "I love you, Y/N." He says, choking back more tears.

"I love you too, Eddie." You let him cling to you for as long as he wants, settling into his warm embrace. You know he needs you, more than ever right now. He needs to know you still want him, still find him worthy of your love. And you have every intention of leaving no room for confusion.

A little later, Eddie lets you go so you can change out of your grungy clothes. You slip into some lounging shorts and a tank top, when you realize the necklace he gave you isn't around your neck. They must have taken it off at the hospital. You dig around in your belongings, finding the necklace at the bottom of the plastic bag. The chain is broken, and there's some blood on it. But the engraved pick is still intact without a scratch. Eddie noticed you weren't wearing it hours ago, thinking you did it on purpose. But seeing you excavating your jewelry box to find a new chain tells him you just got caught up in the moment. Your only concern after waking up was getting to him, making sure he was okay. "Good to know you didn't actually take it off." Eddie pipes up, startling you after being quiet for so long.

"Yeah. I had no intention of doing so. Jason must have snapped the chain when he pulled me down. I'm glad whoever took me to the hospital didn't leave it behind, that would've broken my heart." You find the perfect replacement, a simple gold chain from an old charm necklace set you used to wear years ago. The charms are long gone, they were childish things like unicorns and butterflies. But the chain was sturdy, pretty. You kept it in case you found a new pendant worthy of it. And what better one than the guitar pick labeling you as 'Eddie's girl'? You slip the pendant on, and clasp the chain around your neck. "There, good as new." You admire it in the mirror for a moment, catching Eddie's gaze in the reflection. "I'm always gonna be your girl, Eds." You say with a smile, his own lips twitching upwards briefly.

"And I'll always be your guy, sweetheart." He holds out a bandaged hand, beckoning you to him. You walk over to him, taking a sideways seat on his lap. His arm wraps around your waist, keeping you in his grasp. "God, I wish I could kiss you right now." He says, biting the part of his lip that isn't split open.

"Me too, love. Doesn't mean I can't kiss you,though." You say slyly, leaning your head down to place your mouth on his throat. He hums softly, he loves it when you kiss his neck. Or any part of him, really. Your lips are so plush, and you put just the right amount of pressure to make him putty in your hands. You keep the contact brief, you've both had enough excitement for one day.

"Remind me to pay you back double for every time you do that. Once I'm able to, of course." Eddie smiles, slowly slinking out of the pit of despair he’s been occupying.

"You got it, baby." You give him another kiss, eager to rack up a stockpile of his affection. He chuckles, realizing his mistake. You're gonna be all over him now, giving him sexy little pecks every chance you get. He's not complaining, but it's gonna make him go insane.

"Y/N? Dinner's ready, honey." Mom says on the other side of your door.

"Okay, Mom. We'll be right there!" You call to her, and you hear her footsteps receding back to the kitchen. "C'mon, bruiser." You say with a laugh, taking Eddie's wrists to lead him to the dining room. Dinner is surprisingly light, Dustin asks Eddie lots of questions about the fight, wanting to know just how badly he beat Jason's sorry ass. Eddie answers them, even after Mom tries to get your brother to cut it out. You ask Dustin about his own finals to change the subject. You know Eddie's not really in a mood to act like he's some badass for today's events.

Dustin fills you in, eyes sparkling as he fantasizes about finally walking that graduation stage next week. You're so proud of him, he's even smarter than you are. He got early admission to multiple Ivy Leagues, offering scholarships left and right to draw the little genius into various science programs. You swear it was just yesterday that he joined Hawkins Middle A.V. Club, running around with his squad of friends on make-believe adventures. Their little band of misfits has only expanded these last few years, and you're happy he's been able to form strong bonds with so many people. It's one of many things you envy about Dustin, friendship comes so easily to him.

You help Mom clear the table after dinner, and Dustin sits with Eddie on the couch to discuss the next D&D campaign. There isn't a set date for said game just yet, but you're very excited about it. You listen to their conversation as you dry each dish Mom hands to you after she washes them. Things seem to be at least slightly back to normal, when the phone rings. It startles everyone, and your eyes lock onto Eddie's. You go over to pick it up, wondering who's on the other end. It could be the police, or Angie, or一

"Y/N?" It's Chrissy.

"Hey, Chrissy." You say, loud enough for everyone to hear. The room goes silent. Mom shuts off the faucet, and Dustin clicks the remote to the TV.

"Are you and Eddie alright? I just got back from the station. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want to tell him anything, but he found out about my plan to go to my aunt's..." She pauses for a moment, her breath shuddering. You can tell she's been crying. "...he一 He threatened to hurt JJ." Your jaw drops. That's a new low, even for Jason.

"Chrissy, don't apologize. We're okay, well, mostly. We wanted to help, and we knew something like this could happen. Are you alright?" You hope Jason wasn't too rough with her, or the baby.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Jason's been arrested, waiting for charges. And my aunt is coming tomorrow to help me pack up what we need. I'll be living with her until I can get a job and a place of my own." Her tone brightens, she sounds so relieved.

"That's great! I'm glad you're finally getting out, going somewhere safe. And hey, when all this shit blows over we should hang out." You smile, glad at least one good thing has come out of this dumpster fire.

"I'd love that! Well, I'll let you go for now. I'm sure you two have been through a lot today. And thank you for helping me. I'll never be able to repay you for that." You hear her getting a little teary again, which makes your heart swell.

"It's no problem at all. Just doing what's right. Goodnight, Chrissy. We'll see you around."

"Goodnight." She hangs up, and you set the phone back in its cradle.

"Is she alright?" Mom asks, turning to wash up the last couple dishes.

"Yeah. Jason's awaiting charges, and Chrissy is moving in with her aunt. So, our injuries aren't for nothing." You joke, drawing nervous giggles from everyone. "I dunno about you guys, but I'm fuckin' exhausted. You wanna go to bed, Eds?" You gaze at him sleepily, reaching your hand out..

"Sure thing, baby. Night, Dustin, Ms. Henderson." He stands up to join you, just as tired as you are

"Night, guys." Dustin says, turning the TV back on for a while.

"Goodnight, kiddos. Sleep well, we've got a big day tomorrow." Mom says, hoping you two are able to rest properly when you're all battered and bruised. You travel back down the hall, stopping at the bathroom.

"I'm gonna take my pain meds real quick before bed, love. You wanna warm up the bed for me?" You poke his chest playfully.

"Yes, ma'am!" He salutes you, making you laugh.

"Ew, don't ever call me that again." You scrunch your nose, that term makes you feel old. He smirks at you, before turning away to go lie down. You open the bottle of pills at the sink, taking the recommended dose with a handful of water from the faucet. You go to your room, finding Eddie already passed out on his back.

He's snoring lightly, the poor guy must have conked out as soon as he hit the pillow. You flick off the light, and set your alarm for the morning. You quietly climb in beside your love, laying your head on his chest. His arms bring you closer out of instinct, but you can tell he's still asleep. "Goodnight, baby. I love you so much." You whisper, shifting slightly to get comfortable. He probably can't hear you, but you never go a single night without saying you love him. You slowly drift off, the comforting beat of his heart lulling you to sleep.

To be continued...

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