#hold him tight okay he has a tendency to fall apart

[n4rval]

i love the way you draw gaster, hes so shaped and huggable

How To Care For A Human

Chapter 1 - Humans are obsessed with anything soft. To lure in a human, find a really big teddy bear or a warm blanket and place it in a safe, secluded area.

[functionofjules]

At Last

Pairing: Five Hargreeves X (She/her) Synopsis: (Taking place at the start of Season 2) Y/n finds herself alone in the sixties. Just as she begins to give up hope of ever getting home to her husband, Five, she’s pleasantly surprised. A/N: Reader has healing powers which lead to enhanced abilities like endurance and strength. Aged up Five in my interpretation. Feeling nostalgic after the series finale.

I slam to the ground with a force that could rival an elephant cracking my spine. Luckily enough, I have a tendency to avoid the repercussions from a fall of such heights. I can practically feel my cells regenerating already.

My tattered Umbrella Academy uniform that I borrowed from Allison’s closet upon Five and I’s arrival is reeking of the events of the last week. I’m not particularly fond of it and due to my lack of personal hygiene lately, I think I may be due for an outfit change.

I observe my surroundings. It seems I’m far away from home. By that I mean directly next to a dumpster.

I cautiously make my way into the street and take note of the vintage style of clothing. This indicates I’ve been dropped somewhere between the 50s-60s. This is confirmed when I steal a glance at a newspaper dated March 5th, 1960. At this point I feel myself begin to hyperventilate. Not necessarily because of the date but because I can’t seem to find a single Hargreeves sibling, most importantly my husband, Number Five.

I stagger backward until my back hits a wall that I slide down. Just as the tears begin to pour, a figure casts a shadow over my hunched position. I look up in hopes of a familiar face but am only met with a stranger. She has soft blonde hair framing her face which honestly reminds me of that actress, Florence Pugh, from the only film Five and I had time to see.

In pitying tone accompanied by her southern drawl she asks “You okay, Pumpkin? What’s the matter? You look like you ain’t doing too hot.”

I let a shaky breath escape and contemplate how much information I should give this woman. There’s no way in hell I’m explaining how my husband and I just attempted to stop the end of the world only the end up being separated from him and the rest of his family. So I settle for the next best thing.

“I’m a little lost,” I admit “My family and I got separated and I have nowhere to go.”

“Aw you poor thing!” She exclaims, bending down to my level and taking my hand “You want to come with me? I can getcha something to eat and figure things out from there.”

I nod, standing to my feet.

“That sounds nice. Thank you…” I falter realizing we hadn’t properly introduced ourselves.

She takes both my hands in hers and says “Charlotte, but you can call me Lottie.”

“I’m Y/n,” I say, offering my first smile since getting thrown out of that portal “Y/n Hargeeves.”

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

It’s been three years since I was dropped in Dallas and a lot has changed.

Lottie and I live together I her two bedroom loft apartment and work together everyday at the local diner. It was quite different from my work at the Commission but not to brag, I’ve developed a very impressive coffee pouring time.

I haven’t heard anything from Five. At first I figured he’d come along right after me but he never did. A part of me holds out hope he got dropped somewhere further ahead in the timeline then me or got caught up with someone putting out a hit on him but I’m losing that hope. But I’m okay here with Lottie. I’ve built myself a nice life in Dallas.

I had just expected it to be another normal day at the diner. I tied my apron in a tight knot around my waist, told Lottie to hurry up, and we began to rush down the street together.

I had told Lottie a little about Five. How we were in love and we always protected each other. She knows better than anyone how much I miss him.

We rush into the diner with the ring of the bell behind us and ran to the back to put away our bags. Just as we’re about to head through the door my manager calls, “Y/n! I need you to give one of the chefs a hand with the pantry inventory.”

I shrug “Okay boss!”

A shoot Lottie a wave and run back to help our chef, Dave, count various condiments.

I was still in there after about fifteen minutes when Lottie ran back with a strange look in her eye. She slammed the door with such force I almost slipped off the stool I was balanced on.

“Sorry!” She apologizes, but I can tell she can’t contain herself for long “There’s a guy asking for you.”

I raise a brow “Asking for me? Is it that Harry guy again? Because he gives me the creeps, I’m really not in the mood to-“

She shushes me

“No it’s not Charlie! I really think you ought to get out there. I’ll finish up back here for ya!” She cuts me off, practically shoving me out the door.

“Okay, okay!” I say, chuckling at her intensity “I’ll go! Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

I think nothing of what could be on the other side of that door cause I know it’ll be the same thing everyday. I snatch my notepad out of my apron and the pen from behind my ear.

“Welcome in! What can I do for you today?” I say. I was about to list off the specials until I look up and see Luther Hargreeves sat next to…”Five?”

He blinks behind the counter saying “Hello Darling-“

I don’t let him get to far before a tackle him with kisses. Every inch of his face is smeared in my burgundy lipstick and it takes everything in me to stop there. I let him stand to his feet as tears spring to my eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe-“ And then the anger sets in “I can’t believe you!”

His brown furrows as I begin to land strikes to his chest.

“You left me! You abandoned me for three years! I was terrified I was never going to see you again! How could you do something so reckless!” I tell. There’s a large part of me that knows it isn’t actually his fault but I choose to neglect that right now. My hits become harder and it’s only then he gently grasps my wrists and lays his forehead against mine.

Throughout my whole fit, he is shushing me and whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love. I didn’t want to. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

I finally cease my attacks and begin to breathe easily again. Once I’m calm I turn back towards my brother in law.

“Hi Luther.”

“Oh,” he says with an awkward attempt at a smile “Hello!”

Just then, Lottie reveals herself from behind the kitchen doors and walks over. She scans the scene and smirks at me, saying “Hey pumpkin! Care to introduce your friends?”

I chuckle introducing everyone “Lottie, this is my husband, Five Hargreeves. And this is my brother in law, Luther.”

“Alright!” She replies with a smile “Who wants coffee?”

[luveline]

more mean eddie if u feel inclined he’s delicious ❤️🫶❤️🫶 a punishment perhaps? or just normal teasing

MDNI 18+ (cw smut, p in v, mean dom!eddie, punishment, overstim, stoplight system, all consensual roleplay, maybe dacryphilia, little bit of aftercare/checking in) ♡ fem!reader | 1.3k words

You look really fucking cute in handcuffs. Not that Eddie would tell you that now when he's pretending to be mad at you, not when you're looking up at him all glassy-eyes and resentful.

"What, baby?" he asks softly, hand curving down your cheek until his fingertips are under your chin. His voice hardens into something cruel. "Something to say?" 

"I'm sorry," you say for the tenth time in as many minutes. 

"I know. I just don't care, s'all," he says without any inflection. 

He pushes his hips in closer, cock pushing into resistance, your cunt a vice around him. He assesses your face carefully and decides that you're fine – the vibe always tenses you up. Your hips are locked, thighs tight to his sides. 

"I can't," you mumble tearfully. 

He pushes the vibrator up into the hood of your clit and grins at the hitch in your breath, knowing you're close to another climax. The first had been easy on you but it was also why you'd ended up in this situation. You'd cum without asking, and now you have to be punished. He's rock hard and aching inside you, desperate to fuck you silly but not wanting to overwhelm you anymore than he is. 

He watches your face crumple up. You look like you might burst into tears, and then you're glaring at him. 

"Oh, is that how it is?" he asks, beginning to roll his hips, adding to the wave of stimuli you're under. If you're gonna be a brat, he's not gonna go easy on you.

You reach down to try and push him away but the handcuffs have made your hands useless. 

"Sorry," you say. Sob, more accurately. 

He pulls the vibrator off of your clit. When your hips move up, searching for it, he lets you have it again. He's reluctant to ask for your colour because the scene has been going so well, but he always worries when you start to cry. 

He trusts you to tell him if it's too much. He continues. After all, you look really fucking pretty with tears running down your face.

"Why couldn't you just ask me, huh? Why can't you be good?" 

"I am good," you protest tearfully, eyes closing tight as he pushes circles into your soft clit. He hisses as you clench down, as you bring your hands up up your chest and your lips part. You struggle to continue for a second, and then you say, "I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm sorry, you just- you were going so fast, I didn't-" 

"So it's my fault?" he asks. 

"No!" 

He rolls his eyes and bites back a smile. Your chest heaves rapidly. Your every breath is affected, an amorous twist to each one, pretty little moans that are starting to drag.

He spreads your cunt open with his thumb and frowns sympathetically at your swollen clit. You can't hide how much you like the contact. Eddie knows you're hungry for both his cruelty and his affection. He spits on your clit and spreads it around with the vibrator, totally enamoured by how pretty your cunt looks like this, puffy and wet. 

He knows you're close to cumming and winds down the scene. "I'll forgive you." 

"Thank you," you say, relieved. 

"If," he continues, hand spreading across your abdomen gently, palm pouring comfort, "you make a really pretty sound when you cum."

All your sounds are pretty but you have a tendency to hold your breath when it gets too much. He wants to hear you.

"I want to hear you fall apart," he furthers, holding your gaze. "Okay? Is that fair?" 

"Yes," you say weakly. You'd agree to anything at this point. 

He starts to fuck into you steadily, searching for that sweet spot that's gonna get you to your climax. One hand holds the vibrator and pushes in until you're panting, the other hooks under your knee to hold up your thigh and it's not long before he's fucking in as deep as he can, biting his cheek to stop from showering you in praises. 

A second before you shatter he leans down to kiss your trembling hands. The handcuffs clink as you try to cup his face. Fuck, he loves you. 

You cum and make the prettiest moan he's ever heard, clamping down so hard that he has to pull out. 

"Eddie, Eddie please," you say, though he's not sure what you want. He holds the vibrator in place until fat tears are rolling down both cheeks and you're squirming away from him, turning it off and tossing it to the side with little care. 

You gasp for air. He lets your thigh fall back over his own and rubs down the lengths of your restrained arms lovingly, your skin damp and hot under his palms. 

"What colour?" he asks. 

"Yellow. Maybe blue," you say. He waits patiently for you to decide, leaning down for another kiss, this one against your hip. Yellow means you want to slow down, blue means you want to keep going but without any pretend games. 

You look unsure. Eddie senses a red stoplight on the horizon and leans over you to pick up the handcuff key from the nightstand. 

"It's okay if you want to stop," he says gently, clicking open your handcuffs to reveal your sore wrists. He leans down to kiss them, too. 

"I just need a minute," you say decidedly. 

"You want a hug?" 

Your lip wobbles as you open your arms. Shit, he thinks. 

He lets his weight fall onto you and tucks his head into your neck. You wrap your arms around his back, trembling, hugging him so tightly that he thinks he might get fingertip bruises over his ribs. 

"Did I do something you didn't like?" he asks carefully. You shake your head. "Did you want to use your safe word?" 

"No… sorry, I'm okay. Don't worry. I'm okay." You dip your chin to your neck and press a dainty kiss into his bangs. "Just dropped, I think." 

That makes sense. It was an intense shift from one emotion into another.

Eddie pushes up to look at you, bringing one of his hands to your neck. "You did really well. You did. And I'm not mad at you for anything, okay? It was all part of the game." 

"I know." 

"Good. Good girl," he says, stroking his thumb over your throat. He can feel your heartbeat under his touch, slowing back to normal. 

You stare at each other for a little while. Both smiling, talking without talking. 

"I'm okay," you say again. 

The tension eases from between his shoulders. He leans down to kiss the sweet corner of your mouth. "You're more than okay. Fucking beautiful. You sound-" He squeezes your neck very mildly, "so fucking insane when you cum like that." 

You giggle as you say, "I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. What the fuck do they put in those batteries? Uranium?" 

He chuckles and ducks down to plant kisses all over your face. "Normal batteries. You're just sensitive," he teases between them.

You bury your hands in his hair and angle his face for a regular kiss. Your lips brush together chastely. He closes his eyes and all he can feel is you. Your nose slides against his. 

"Do you want to keep going?" you ask him quietly, guiding his head back. Your eyes are lit up. 

"Is that okay? How are you feeling?" 

"I'm feeling like you need some taking care of. Can I take care of you?" 

Eddie, as cliche as it is, would let you do whatever it is you wanted to do. He beams at you and struggles backwards onto his haunches, pulling you up with him as he goes, careful of your poor wrists. "Do your worst, sweetheart," he encourages. 

You grin like that's exactly what you'd been planning.

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[15-dogs]

hugger |n.s.|

pairing: newt scamander x reader

summary: you begin to develop feelings for newt, your employer, and accidentally do the one thing he hates: hugs (super super fluffy! pining, friends to lovers, takes place in between fbawtft and fb:tcog)

warnings: extremely minimal swearing, getting injured (nothing serious!), a niffler giving birth (?)

guide: (Y/N) = your name, italics = flashback

word count: 2.1K

a/n: this was supposed to be a blurb LMAO i rewatched fantastic beasts and unearthed my 8th grade crush on him which gave me this as a product! i hope you like it!!

“Denied again?” you asked Newt. He gave you a curt nod as he paced towards the Kelpie pool. 

You frowned; he always seemed to get quieter after he returned from the Ministry. It had been his third attempt to regain his international passport and, of course, his third run in with his brother, Theseus. And you knew how complicated their relationship was. Newt never really talked about Theseus, except for the offhand comments he would make about him.

So far, all you had gathered about the mysterious Scamander was that he was tall, an Auror, and quite the hugger. You nearly burst out laughing when Newt had mentioned that last little fact about his brother as if it were reason enough to dislike him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Scamander, but that just doesn’t seem like something to hate a person over.”

Newt exhaled in quiet laughter as he pet a Mooncalf, grabbing some treats from the bucket he held. He flashed a kind smile at the Mooncalf before turning off and dropping the bucket to the ground, staring you down from across his basement.

“You haven’t met Theseus, then.”

Newt refused to meet your eyes as he joined you in caring for the Leucrotta. You chewed your lip— perhaps you were making a mistake, talking to him so plainly. He was your employer, after all. You weren’t there to help him make nice with his older brother.

Yet, you continued to speak as if you were a personal acquaintance of his. “What I’m trying to say is you’re an incredibly kind, sweet person, Mr. Scamander.” 

That got his attention. His head slowly raised to meet yours, and when he saw you were already looking at him, he looked away. But that did not deter you. 

“You refer to yourself as these creatures’ mother!” you announced with playful exasperation. That got to him, a soft, harmonic chuckle escaping his lips. “You have such a big heart. I suppose I’m just a little shocked that hugging is the disqualifier.”

Newt’s smile faded as he processed your words. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, thick with emotion. He then shook his head as if it would drive the feelings away, pointing you off towards another creature in need of care.

“Well, what are you going to do?” you prodded, making your way beside him. “Try again?”

“Yes,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug, “that’s exactly what I plan on doing. And I’ll keep at it until I get that ban lifted.”

You snorted. “I can see why you were a Hufflepuff— dedication like no other, Mr. Scamander.” 

Newt glanced up at you with a lopsided grin that had your stomach flipping for a moment. The tips of your ears began to heat up and you prayed to Merlin that your hair covered them.

You had known for a while that you had feelings for Newt. It started cultivating inside you with every adoring smile, every impassioned statement, every quiet appraisal. It had soon grown too big to go unnoticed and you knew you were in far too deep.

“Quiet now, quiet now,” Newt whispered to the little Bowtruckle, “mum’s here.”

You were padding down the steps from his apartment, reading the instructions on the back of a potion vile. He had advised you to get it from his medicine cabinet for your headache but you weren’t entirely sure that you picked up the right one.

“Mr. Scamander…” your voice trailed off at the sight of his maternal tendencies.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, “but change can be a good thing. On you hop.” He continued to pet the small and pouty thing before placing it into the makeshift nest he had created, where it was welcomed by the rest of its friends.

That small moment, seemingly insignificant, had caused you to completely fall for Newt. His soft, green eyes fell upon you with a gentle, questioning look at the potion you held. You nodded, answering his silent question without actually telling the truth because, if Newt could be as seemingly perfect as he was day in and day out, you could suffer with a headache for one day.

“Prepare the ointment, please.”

You raised the large container of ointment that you had mixed together in preparation for Newt’s return. “Don’t have to ask me twice, Mr. Scamander.”

He nodded his head towards a desk where you placed the container down. 

Newt began to take off his trademark royal blue coat, flinging it onto a desk as he conversed with you about your work. “How has Molly been?”

You eyed the pregnant Niffler which was milling about in its cage. “Quite well, actually. She’s due any day now.”

“And the other Nifflers?”

“Niffler-y, as always,” you joked, earning a smile from the sandy haired man before you.

“Lovely.” Newt finally turned around, examining your state. “You’ll join me, won’t you? Kelpie’s are easier with two people.”

“Right, yes, of course.”

“Brilliant.”

You undid the buttons on your blouse with haste so that you stood in your pants and camisole, pulling your hair from your eyes as you prepared to hop into the pool. It wasn’t like it was the first time you’d done this, but each time had your nerves thrumming with anxieties that something would go wrong.

You spun around as you took a step towards the edge of the pool, standing shoulder to shoulder with Newt. He extended his hand without looking down, taking yours in his perfectly rough ones, your mouth instantly going dry. Newt looked over at you, so incredibly close that your noses nearly brushed against one another. He nodded and so did you, both hopping backwards into the pool.

Your camisole popped up from the sudden force and Newt quickly looked away as you tucked it back in to the best of your ability. As soon as you were done, you splashed some water his way, striking him in the chest. His eyes went wide with amusement as he did the same to you, hitting you square in the face.

A small wave knocked the two of you back under, the Kelpie swimming its way towards you. You and Newt managed to grab a hold of it, barely staying on as it bucked you two up and down. 

After about the third time the Kelpie lept from the water, you cemented your grip. You let out a loud whoop as the cold air kissed your wet skin, Newt also cheering beside you. The Kelpie dove deep under the water, preparing to rocket you two up. As it breached the water, Newt sent you a disarming smile that had your hands subconsciously loosening. As the Kelpie snapped back under the water, you were thrown off, your body just narrowly missing the stone columns of the pool and splashing with a loud crack in the water.

“(Y/N)!” Newt cried out. His voice was drowned out by the water and by the fact that the pain from the fall had you slipping in and out of consciousness. It was the last thing you heard before you passed out, deep under the water.

You awoke to smell of a savory broth soup flooding in from the room over. You looked around the familiar space, soon realizing that you were sat on Newt’s couch, a blanket tucked firmly up to your chin. Your cheeks grew warm as you inhaled the scent that was distinctly him, scolding yourself for the childish crush you had developed.

You adjusted yourself, sitting up to see a tray of tinctures on the table beside you with a note that read, “Please take these when you wake! Newt.” You followed his orders, slugging them back with a wince at each unpleasant taste.

But then you heard a strange noise from the basement. It was a mix between a squeak and a whine, concerning enough to pull you from your cozy spot on Newt’s couch. You stood up and peered around the corner, hearing a soft, offkey hum ringing from the kitchen where Newt most likely was cooking his dinner. The sound of his voice warmed your heart and you almost, almost, got up to speak with him but you figured you had caused him enough trouble for the day. So instead, you headed into the basement by yourself.

You gripped the railings on the stairs with immense force, hoping not to fall over. Your body felt sore which you could only attribute to your accident earlier. You stopped at the bottom of the steps, peering around when you were met with a pained cry from the Niffler cage. You ran up to it to see Molly the pregnant Niffler whimpering in pain as another Niffler nudged at her stomach.

“Oh, Merlin,” you muttered, “you’re about to give birth, aren’t you, Molls?”

As if Molly could understand you, she let out a loud squeal.

“Oh, Merlin. Time to put that Hogwarts education to the test, I suppose,” you mumbled to yourself to give yourself the confidence you needed to deliver the little Niffler babies.

You snatched the pair of gloves from beside the cage and tugged them on tight, casting a spell so they’d perfectly fit your hands. You unlocked the cage to take Molly out, moving her into a small tray with bedding in it.

“Okay, Molls, you got this. Mum’s here.” 

You rubbed her stomach in small circles, feeling the baby— no, babies— squirm around. One thing was for certain: you needed Newt.

“Mr. Scamander!” you called upstairs. No response. “Mr. Scamander, please!” Still no response. “Merlin’s beard, Newt! Get down here!”

No later did you hear heavy steps growing louder behind you. “(Y/N)! You’re awake! Are you okay-”

You didn’t have time for his rambling. You sent a panicked look over your shoulder, meeting his wide eyes. “Molly is giving birth. Triplets.”

“Merlin’s beard.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in contemplation. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s a fighter, I’ll tell you that.”

“What can I do to help you?”

You whipped around. Apparently you’d be delivering the babies. You took in a sobering breath, steadying your shaking hands.

“Something shiny, some snacks, and a towel.”

Newt scrambled around the workspace as fast as he could, dropping the items in front of you. You laid out the towel and snacks beside Molly, massaging her stomach as you felt the babies start to move more than before. It was time. You pulled the shiny object out from behind your back, dangling it above Molly’s head as she delivered three adorable Niffler babies, so distracted by the object that she didn’t realize that she’d given birth. You escorted the babies onto the towel, allowing them to nibble on the snacks as you stripped the gloves off.

“Merlin,” you murmured to yourself in astonishment, “Merlin! I just…”

Newt’s smile was so big it nearly split his face. He nodded, sharing in your excitement. “You did,” he assured.

Completely forgetting about professionalism, you hopped onto him, engulfing him in a tight hug while you laughed melodically. Newt’s thin frame stiffened in your grasp. You gasped, jumping off of him with your hands up.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Scamander. No hugs, I forgot.”

Newt simply stared at you, searching your eyes. You gulped as he took a step closer to you.

“Theseus tends to believe that a hug is just as useful as an apology, so I don’t quite like hugs for that reason.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say.

The corner of Newt’s lips twitched upwards, looking around before meeting your gaze. He took another step forward before taking you in his arms. You began to wonder if he could feel your heart pounding in your chest, whether he assumed it was from adrenaline or knew that it was him that drove you mad.

“You should be proud of yourself!” He pulled away to look in your eyes, his arms slinking downwards to rest around your waist. “And, please, (Y/N), no more with the Mr. Scamander business. I’d like to think that we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Newt.”

If professionalism was damned before, it was most certainly damned now.

Merlin, he was so close, you couldn’t help yourself. With your arms wrapped behind his neck, you pulled him into a long overdue kiss. Your heart thundered in your chest but you were too focused on the way his lips melted perfectly into yours, the way he kissed you back with such hunger and vigor that you had to hold onto him tighter, the way you began to smile as he attempted to figure out where to place his hands. 

You pulled away a moment later, Newt following your lips with unpleasant surprise. All you could do was let out a soft chuckle as your cheeks turned pink.

A teasing grin grew on his lips that had your stomach flipping. “I’m positive now that we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Newt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

general taglist:  @pandaxnienke @lunalovecroft

[nincompoopydoo]

Can I request a Fred Weasley oneshot with the promts "you don't love him", and "love is supposed to be good". Thanks 😊

GOOD, PURE, AND BEAUTIFUL

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k (about 1000 words my ass) SUMMARY: The Leaky Cauldron serves as a sanctuary to drink your problems away for the night but a certain ginger always seems to find his way to you. Possible part 2? A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had to rewrite the hold dang thing and I know I said I would write around 1000 words but looks like i can’t help but be long-winded. WARNINGS: Angst. Mentions of getting drunk. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

You find solace in the pint of butterbeer, sitting at a table for two, tucked by the corner and under the archways of the Leaky Cauldron. The passing wizards in sleek venerable trench coats and witches with an odd taste in hats only act as an activity of sightseeing in keeping yourself awake, hypothesizing strangers’ lives and whether they might have gnomes lurking in their gardens or have gardens in the first place.

You are drawn to the drifting scent of butterscotch—the tankard of butterbeer sits glumly in your grasp as it has lost all its foam. You take a sip, more of a gulp, feeling the gas building up in your abdomen, and the sweetness to it almost feels sickening at this point.

Belly full yet feeling extremely empty.

The days leading up to you, being here at the Leaky Cauldron, and playing the part of the drunken witch very well weren't exactly pleasant. Flourish and Blotts seem to lose its shine in fulfilling your love for books and organization with every passing day and your relationship with the boy you met and fell madly in love with during your sixth year don’t seem to hold the same spark as before. Walter was a Ravenclaw—handsome, diligent, and incredibly smart. You and him dating had been an on-and-off situation because the one thing you two share in common is the lack of decisiveness.

Today, tonight, you and Walter are finally resolute. The true end where second, third, or fourth chances will never cease to exist from now on. With the new offer for a job in America, you and he both know drifting apart seems to be the only reasonable solution to the whole mess of what you assumed was love.

He spoke the words in this very spot, sat in the chair across from you. You had been watching the way his thumb would caress the back of his other hand and you knew, the night was bound to end in a disastrous way. An unfortunate turn of events for the witch who doesn’t truly know if she ever loved another or was ever loved.

Yet, you sit here, eyes completely dry. Far from crestfallen, far from regret. Only filled with the dread of not feeling the sadness you’re supposed to be feeling. You ignore how your shoulders feel lighter and how the tightness in your chest seems to have miraculously disappeared as soon as you watched Walter walk out of the Leaky Cauldron.

Are the butterbeers celebratory or depressing? You’re not sure.

You rest your chin on your palm, feeling like you’re in a daze. Butterbeer isn’t necessarily the type of drink to get you intoxicated but noting the rate you’re consuming each mug, it’s no surprise that you’re just a little tipsy.

Then, you see a certain ginger twin emerge from the entrance of the pub like some divine intervention. He seems to spot you from afar, waving in your direction. You lift your hand weakly in the midst of trying to figure out which of the twins you are particularly waving at. It’s Fred Weasley as it turns out, you recognize the certain strides with every step taken towards you that differs him from George. As he nears you, there’s an assurance that it’s certainly Fred with the sight of a mark on the bridge of his nose—an indicator and a technique to tell the twins apart you used when you were younger.

Fred halts by the empty seat diagonally to your left, hands shoved in the pockets.

“I have never seen you here at this hour—are you okay?” Fred cuts himself short, brows turning into a frown when he notices the unusual mess in your hair. If he knows you any better, well-kept and neat hair was all you cared about after the number of times you have furiously whined about the frizz in your hair during the summertime.

It isn’t summer now, well into the end of November. The days are colder and he remembers how your hair would especially shine in the gloom of Autumn.

“Not really.” is all you manage to say before taking the hundredth swig from your nearly empty butterbeer. You inspect the mug with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “I swear this was full the last time I looked...”

Before you know it, he’s snatching the mug away from you, dragging it across the table as he settles into the empty chair. He stares at you with a beckoning brow, expression mixed with disappointment, disapproval, and worry.

“Hey! That’s my butterbeer, Weasley!” you whine, trying to reach for it but Fred pushes it further, hand securing around it. Without hesitation, you smack him in the arm. “Stop being a complete arse, Fred. What are you even doing here and where’s George anyway?”

Fred winces in pretense pain, dramatically rubbing the side of his arm as he tries to suppress his laughter from your sudden burst of violence. “George is back at the shop going over numbers and as far as I’m concerned, I can be anywhere I want to be. You clearly had too much to drink.”

“But it's butterbeer!”

“That is exactly my point.”

You let out a huff, leaning into your seat and running your fingers through your hair. After a moment’s silence with Fred still staring you down in the effort of getting you to talk, you finally give in. He knows you too well for you to hide anything from him.

“Walter and I broke it off.”

Fred blinks, trying to hide his wide-eyed gaze. “For good?”

You finally turn to him, nodding slowly. “For good.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft when in reality he’s trying to hide his relief in hearing that things between you and Walter have finally come to a resolution because falling in and out of a relationship was driving you mad. He cares for you and always has since the very beginning and a part of him wishes for those feelings of infatuation between two melancholic teenagers will emerge back from what he assumed was already dead.

He watches you lean your head back onto your palm, seemingly sinking deeper towards the table as you try to wrap your head around the situation to form proper words with your lips. “You know what’s the worst part of it all?” Fred shakes his head, eyes never breaking contact with your own. “I don’t even feel that sad about it. Like all those years were...nothing.” Your laugh comes out as a puff of air. It’s cynical rather than finding the humor in it. For the first time, he doesn’t laugh when you do.

Another beat of silence and Fred is contemplating whether his next words that beg to be freed from his mind are appropriate in a time like this. Although he knows how he tends to speak his mind without thinking of the consequences, he knows to tread lightly around you from the times when his words nearly tore your friendship apart.

Still, he knows to be honest with you.

Through the chatter of the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron whilst a few men by the other corner of the pub begin to break into singing a drinking song, Fred’s voice comes off as a whisper, barely audible. “You don’t love him, don’t you?”

Your gaze had initially drifted to the bunch of rowdy men, rendering verses about magical whisky and beer. Yet, they now return to hold a certain ginger’s gaze. You want to be offended by his question because of how it supposedly hurts the raw wound of feeling sorry for yourself. Your love life hasn’t been the best and your tendency to jump to your own defense about it is a clear note to everyone that it simply shouldn’t be questioned.

But it’s Fred. The one who has constantly looked out for you when other boys and men seem to take advantage of your hopeless romantic side. The one who would pull a prank on George just to see you smile. The one who ended up taking you to the Yule Ball as his date because Walter, at the time, rejected you like you were nothing. You should have known that it was never meant to be.

You know to be honest with Fred Weasley.

“I don’t think I ever did.”

He doesn’t say anything, wanting to listen as he waits for you to conceive the proper words to finally speak your mind. It is clear you want to let it out and let off of the burden that has trapped you under its knees, constantly looming over your shoulders and causing dread and fear of losing so much in such a short time. The band of merry men as the whole pub begins to join the group in singing about the joys of alcohol, life, and love in the tune of a traditional Scottish muggle song.

You wonder how can these people be so happy in a time of an impending war. Maybe, it's temporary, meant to drown the hurt and sorrows for tonight and when morning comes, they'll return to opening the stitches of their wounds. When morning comes, you will either wake up at this very table or in an empty bed. Either way, you’ll be alone.

Now, all you want to do is get all your worries and troubles off your chest, not wanting to feel so empty and suffocated. “Love,” you pause, inhaling deeply. ”Love is supposed to be good and pure and beautiful. Love was what I thought I had and right now, I don’t know what to make of it, Fred...I thought I was going to marry him someday.” You find yourself sighing once more, already feeling the lightness in your chest. Running your fingers along your cheek, you close your eyes to help yourself focus through your rapid thoughts and your dazed mind. “Everything is going wrong. I hate my job. I hate my bed. I’m drunk on butterbeer for Merlin’s sake. I feel so, so alone—”

“Ah, and that’s where you are wrong.”

Your eyes are open now, narrowed from adjusting to the sudden brightness of the candlelit place. They drift to Fred who seems very content. He then places his hand on yours and you realize you had been fiddling with your fingers for the last minute. His hand is warm on yours and the heat gradually travels to your chest, heartbeat now slightly picking up in speed. If you listen close enough, you would be able to hear it.

“You are never alone. Not when I’m around and you know I will always be around.”

His words tug at the side of your lips, now widening into a faint smile. It’s small but it’s the kind that reaches your eyes and raises your cheeks. “Thank you, Freddie.”

Then, you watch him abruptly come to a stand, chair screeching. He tugs on the lapels of his coat, adjusting it with the roll of his shoulders. He grabs the back of his chair, and leans forward, towards you. “George and I are visiting the Burrow for the weekend. I’m sure mum won’t mind you staying over.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape at his offer. “I don’t want to trouble anybody—”

“Don’t be silly. Mum loves you more than George and I combined. And she loves us a lot!”

You laugh and it’s genuine this time, knowing how Molly will be always whispering to you about what makes Fred a good husband in the kitchen when you’re washing up the plates and how she will never let you go to bed hungry.

The burrow is like your second home and right now, home is all you want and need.

“Alright, then.”

[tommybaholland]

what they’re insecure about in the relationship

featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, shinso, amajiki and dabi

all these boys deserve love no matter what!! some fluff, some angst, some possible (dabi) manga spoilers..

midoriya is afraid that he’s not good enough for you. it’s that simple. he wants to be strong and the best hero he can be, as there was a time when he felt helpless and weak. it comes at a cost though when he puts himself through too much and ends up damaging himself more than he’s helped. his self-sacrificing tendencies are hard to give up, but he wants to focus more on you. he can’t stand seeing you cry when he’s hurt. it only makes him feel helpless all over again or like he’s the reason for your pain. but he doesn’t want to lie to you and promise that he’ll hold back next time. you have to hold him tight and make sure he knows that you appreciate everything he does for you or for others but it’s okay to slow down sometimes. he can still give everything even when it’s not 100 percent. nothing he does is without effort and that’s more than you could ever ask for. 

bakugo’s tough and prideful exterior never ceases, but he worries that he can be too rough with you sometimes. he feels like he should be treating you differently than he does others, like not yell as much. his biggest fear involves you leaving him for someone who’s more gentle but can still protect you, like kirishima. he’s not used to having so many feelings for someone. you drive him crazy in both the best and worst ways but he wouldn’t trade any of that for anything. he likes to surprise you with cuddles, just holding you peacefully while occasionally pressing kisses to your head. he makes you smile more than he thinks, so you try to return the favor. you always strive to beat him to the ‘i love you’ so he knows and can make damn sure that he doesn’t have to worry. 

todoroki isn’t overtly insecure, but the gears in his head really turn when he hears that he’s deemed ‘class 1A’s pretty boy.’ he doesn’t understand what makes him so special, especially in terms of physical appearance. he doesn’t like to feel insecure about his scar but it only reminds him of his strife and trauma. forget about being ‘pretty,’ how could you deal with someone who once held so much anger in their heart? you’re so wonderful to him but he never wants to take advantage of your kindness and worries that it’ll all be too much to handle one day. it hurts to hear how much his past tortures him so you invite him to get comfy in his favorite spot, with his head on your shoulder. you stroke his hair and rub his back as you remind him that he is more than his past; that he’s funny, kind, caring, beautiful. you will never have a reason to let him go because he’s everything you ever wanted. 

kirishima is always confident in himself and knows how to turn things around into the positives, so you’re shocked when he admits that he’s surprised that you’re still with him. he wants to be a better boyfriend to you because sometimes he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. sure, he’s manly but there’s always someone better, like bakugo: smarter, can use their quirk better, maybe even all around more manly. it breaks your heart to hear him have doubts because it’s totally the opposite so you like to tell him how wonderful he is to you. he gives you all his attention when he’s with you and makes you feel nothing but loved. you could never match it but you try to love on him with as many kisses and cuddles as he wishes. and he couldn’t ask for anyone better (or cuter) than you. you love spending time with him and would be happy to give him more if he wanted. 

kaminari feels he’s nothing special to you, especially when it comes to how much smarter you are than him. he’s at the bottom of the class, can’t use his quirk too much without frying his brain and therefore he just doesn’t deserve to be with someone as great as you. he’s afraid that you’ll grow so far apart that one day, you’ll be gone. he doesn’t want to drag you down. little does he know, you don’t care about how smart or dumb he is. he never ever fails to make you smile, even when you’re in the corner of your room crying your eyes out. he dotes on you, shows you so much love, like no one else has. you tell him you don’t want anyone else and he is more deserving of your love than anyone else. you actually like when he short circuits, because that’s your chance to take care of him and show him just how much he means to you. 

shinso questions your trust in him but then again, he’s never been in good standing with his own trust in others. they were almost afraid of him or avoided him because of his ‘villainous’ quirk. it’s not that he has doubts about you, but rather that he fears that he’ll do something that will scare or hurt you. loving him is different and while he loves your affections, you have to come at this with a different approach. you offer to let him brainwash you to show how much you trust him. he swore he would never do that to you but you reiterate that you know he’s not going to do anything he’d regret. you love him too much to watch him suffer in his head. afterwards you seal it with a kiss, printing all the love and passion you can convey with your lips on him. you physically feel him release all the tension, gifting you with a smile. shall i expand on this??

amajiki doesn’t strive to be manly like kirishima but he doesn’t want you to think that he’s a nervous, anxiety-ridden mess all the time. he wants to be cool and show you that he can protect you just as much as any ‘manly’ person out there. he knows you’re fine all on your own and that you can handle yourself. what worries him the most is that you’ll figure out that you don’t need him; he’s only a burden to you. but he’s so sweet that you can’t bare to watch him put so much pressure on himself. sure, he’s not always bold but he still has an amazing amount of courage when it comes down to protecting people. he truly amazes you every single day. although you love how shy he can be, that one day he kissed you on the lips, holding you impossibly close without any hesitation had your head spinning. you remind him that it’s moments like those that make you never want to let him go.

dabi just doesn’t understand your appeal to him, period. his burnt skin has to be held together by force, he coughs a lot and just generally looks weak. he can’t protect you without burning up inside, literally. looks aside, he’s done horrible things. he can’t rationalize how anyone could love him even after all the turmoil and destruction he’s caused. sometimes it makes him angry when he can’t figure out why you’re still there yet, he doesn’t want to let you go. he worries he’ll scare you off with his self-deprecation. he can’t fight how you feel for him and neither can you. yes, he has issues as result of a damning past but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worthy of love. he lets you hold him close to your chest as you tell him that you’re not afraid of him or anything that happens to him or you. he falls asleep to the sound of your heartbeat as you make sure he knows his persistence makes him strong, even when he feels weak. 

*present mic voice* YEEEEEEAAAHHH ITS BNHA NIGHT!! send requests so we can keep the fun going

[seiijohhh]

the slow demise [2/?]

summary: He’d found you coated in blood, surrounded by death, and decided then and there, you were perfect. pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!gojo!reader a/n: this has been reposted from my original account @justauthoring - so, if you recognize it, that’s why. im also tagging those who originally requested to be tagged in it, so they know where to find future parts. tags: @thatprofessionalfangirl - @sugarandsoft - @honeyy-honeyy-sweets - @strawberryflavoredjeans - @flowersbloominthedark - @juliajempire​ - @princess-bumblebee - @sageandberries-png - @yue-caelum - @a–nonymousse - @aryksworld - @godsentkita​ - @kat-su-ki

part one - part two - part three - part four

“How is there only four first years? Isn’t that too few?”

“Well, have you ever met anyone who can see curses before?”

Pausing in thought, the tip of Itadori’s popsicle remains in his mouth, before he tips it towards Fushiguro; “nope.”

“That just proves how small a minority jujutsu sorcerers are.”

Leaning against the railing beside Itadori, you glance away from him and Megumi, taking a moment to gather your surroundings. Gojo has left waiting here for quite a while, and honestly, you were getting bored.

“Also,” Itadori speaks up, pulling your attention back on him. “Didn’t you say I was the fourth?”

“Their entry was decided a while ago.” Fushiguro explains, nonchalant as ever, “you know what our school is like. Everyone has unique circumstances.”

Leaning towards Itadori with a mischievous grin, you hold your hand up to give the impression of telling a secret but don’t bother to lower your voice. “They were trying to find a replacement for me,” you grin, bright eyed at the dull look Fushiguro sends you.

“You were the one who said you’d never been apart of our school in the first place,” he quirks a brow, “how could we replace you, then?”

Blinking at his quip, you’re mainly surprised he’s able to come up with one.

“Moo,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “No fun.”

“Sorry for the wait.”

Blinking at the new voice, your straighten out at the sight of Gojo waving at the three of you. He makes his way steadily over, before pausing, head tilting in curiosity, lips parting; “oh? Your uniforms made it in time, I see.” Then, his eyes drift to you, meeting your gaze. “Though, I’ve had yours waiting in my closet for a while.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you pull at the jacket, eyeing it curiously. The outfit was the same colour as Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s, as expected, a deep, dark purple. Yours was slightly different then your male counterparts however, and you’d found a pair of tight fitting dress pants, a white button up, and a cropped jacket with a high collar at your door this morning.

“Yeah,” Itadori grins, sending him a thumbs up. “It’s a perfect fit. Though it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s,” he pulls at the material, “it has a hood, for one.”

“That’s because the uniforms can be customized upon request.”

“Huh? But I never put in any requests.”

With a sigh, you cross your arms over your chest, nudging Itadori lightly; “that’s because he did.” And when he turns to look at you, you shrug. “I didn’t put in a request for mine either. Though, I’m pleasantly surprised that mine came with pants.”

Utterly and entirely too proud of himself, Gojo grins at you brightly, sending you a thumbs up; “I thought you’d appreciate not having a skirt.”

And honestly, you can’t argue with that.

“Whatever, I guess,” Itadori shrugs.

“Be careful,” Fushiguro calls out, “Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that.”

“More importantly,” you speak up, raising your head as you poke your head out. “Why are we meeting up in Harajuku?” Just as you finish speaking, Itadori moves to a stand beside you, pulling your eyes on him briefly before blinking back over at Gojo.

“Because it’s what she asked for.”

“Hey!” Jumping at the sudden pike of excitement in Itadori’s voice, you turn to him as he grins excitedly at you. “Popcorn! I want some!” Without any real warning, he grabs you by the wrist, grip gentle but firm, and pulls you along, whilst you stutter in surprise.

“H-Hey! I never said I wanted some–!”

–

“Um… P-Pardon me?”

It takes you half a second to realize that the older man stood in front of you, is talking to you. His lips are curved into a hopeful, somewhat hesitant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he regards you. “Are you on the clock right now?”

Your lips part, surprised flooding your features. You take a glance back at Itadori, Fushiguro and embarrassingly enough, Gojo, stood a little ways back from you as they watch on with varying expressions of interests. Itadori just looks curious, maybe even a little lost (and honestly, it’s a little endearing), Fushiguro seems rather annoyed and Gojo? Well, you have no idea.

Despite knowing the man for so many years now, you still can’t really gauge what half of his mischievous looks are about.

“Uh, no, I’m not,” you answer, turning back to the man, before raising your hand with a soft shake of your head. “But I’m not–”

“You see,” he cuts in, plainly ignoring what you’d had to say. So much for being hesitant. “I’m looking for potential models.” You take a quick glance at yourself – what about you currently screams model right now? “This is who I am,” he continues, thrusting a card in your face. “Would you be interested?”

You miss the pair of keen and careful eyes that watch you.

“Sorry,” you bow gently, feeling suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m not really interested–”

“Oh! Just hear me out–!”

“Hey, you.”

A new voice calls, and your eyes land on a hand that’s latched itself to the man’s shoulders before glancing upwards. You’re surprised to see a girl, your age, in a similar school uniform to your own, instead hers consists of a pencil skirt.

The man turns to her with a startle.

“What about me?”

You blink at her boldness, unable to stop the grin that grows on your face.

“For the modeling gig, dug,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m asking what you think about me.”

“Oh, um! I’m in a hurry at the moment!” He offers a small smile, a nod your way, before moving to walk off.

She doesn’t let him off that easily.

Tugging him back by the collar of his jacket, she growls; “don’t run from me! Come out and say it!”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“Um,” stepping forward, you try to placate the girl in letting the man go, offering a nervous smile. “Maybe you should–”

“Hey!”

Sighing in relief at Gojo’s voice, you move to rush over to him and the boys, falling next to Itadori, and spinning to face the girl with a grin.

-

“Okay, once again.”

Gojo gestures to the new student, and with ease, she moves to introduce herself. “Kugisaki Nobara,” she introduces herself, hand on her hip. “Be happy, boys. There’s now two girls in your group.”

Head tilting, you let out a laugh at the expressions on Itadori’s and Fushiguro’s faces.

A moment of silence passes, Nobara simply just stares at the three of you, though you notice her eyes are solely on Itadori and Fushiguro.

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” Itadori grins, leaning forward as he gestures to himself. “I’m from Sendai.”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

She stares. Then, huffing: “I always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances.”

“She took one look and sighed,” Itadori deadpans.

“Well,” moving so you’re slightly in front of Itadori, you grin brightly at Nobara. You don’t have many friends, and even less of them are female, so you’re hoping that she won’t have the same reaction towards you. Especially with what happened earlier. “I’m Y/N Gojo, yes, as in Gojo-sensei,” you thumb at Gojo, “but we’re not related by blood, I only took his name–”

“–Hey, how come you didn’t tell me that right away!”

Sticking your hand out, you meet her eyes; “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She stares, and you feel your chest tighten in worry. But then, her eyes are brightening and the brightest (and maybe only) smile you’ve seen on the girl since meeting her curls onto her lips as she eagerly takes your hand. “I’m relieved to not be the only girl!”

And it’s like a weight of your shoulder.

“Hey!” Itadori calls, pouting, “how come you don’t like me!”

“Are we going somewhere?” Fushiguro cuts in, clearly tired of the conversation.

Gojo lets out a mischievous laugh; “we do have all four of you together.” He nods to himself. “Not to mention, two of you are from the countryside. So, of course we’re going on a tour of Tokyo!”

Almost immediately, as if on cue, Nobara, Itadori and Gojo all jump together, bright grins and sparkling eyes as they chant; “Tokyo! Tokyo! Tokyo!” Before, Nobara and Itadori move to stand beside each other, hands clasped with sparkling delight. “We love Tokyo.”

Shoving your hands into your pockets, you watch on with a tilt of your head.

“TDL!” Nobara cries, Itadori latching onto Gojo; “I want to go to TDL!”

“Idiot!” Itadori turns to her, “TDL’s in Chiba! Let’s go to Chinatown, Sensei!”

“Chinatown’s in Yokohama!”

“Yokohama’s part of Tokyo! Don’t you know that? Look at a map!”

Nudging Fushiguro lightly, you turn to whisper to him; “he’s not taking them on a tour, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fushiguro nods, watching the two with disdain on his face. “Without a doubt.”

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo calls, silencing Itadori and Nobara almost instantly.

“Roppongi!”

Turning to each other, you swear you actually see stars in their eyes; “Roppongi?!”

“I almost feel bad,” you mumble, unable to tear your eyes away.

“Don’t,” Fushiguro mumbles, “they’re idiots.”

-

Staring you at the building that looks quite frankly haunted, you bite your lips.

“There’s a curse here.”

“You liar!”

“You were toying with us country folk!”

With an everlasting grin on his face, Gojo adds; “there’s a bit cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse.”

With a pat on the back of sympathy for Nobara, who continues to grovel in disappointment, clearly pissed off, you listen in as Itadori speaks up – surprisingly, he doesn’t seem all that upset about the whole lying thing anymore.

“So they really do pop up more often around graves?”

“The issues isn’t the cemetery itself,” Fushiguro explains, “it’s the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear.”

“Oh,” his eyes brighten in understanding. “It was the same for schools, too, wasn’t it?”

“Hold up!” Nobara calls, finally straightening out, “he didn’t even know that yet?”

Scratching at your chin, you let out a nervous laugh; “well…”

“He swallowed a special-grade cursed object?!” She all but screeches as you explain, instantly creating a distance between her and Itadori, disgust clear on her facial expression. “Gross! Unbelievable! That’s so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way!”

“What?”

“I agree with her.” Fushiguro cuts in.

“Y/L/N!”

You bite your lips as his eyes fall on you, clasping your hands behind your back while you rock on the heels of your feet nervously. “Um…” You start, voice drifting, “it was kinda disgusting.”

“What?!”

“I want to know what all of you are capable of,” Gojo cuts in, hands in his pockets as he regards the abandoned building. “Just think of this as a field test. Nobara, Yuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building.”

Brows furrowing, you turn to Gojo. Why was he..?

“Huh?” Itadori mumbles, “but I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right? I can’t use any jujutsu yet.”

Gojo turns to Itadori; “you’re basically half a curse already,” he reminds. “There’s cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn’t something you can learn overnight, so use this.” Your eyes widen at the familiar looking weapon, if you remembered correctly that belonged to a second year. “It’s the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It’s a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It’ll work on curses, too.”

Pulling the cover off the weapon, Itadori eyes it gleaning eyes.

“Lame,” Nobara scoffs, pulling your attention on her as she moves towards the building, pulling a pouncing around the belt hoops of her skirt.

Itadori moves to follow her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Gojo calls, “don’t let Sukuna out. If you use him, you’ll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you’ll also drag everyone around into it.”

“Got it!” Itadori grins, sending Gojo a thumbs up, “I won’t let Sukuna out.”

“Hurry up now!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Go on, now!”

-

“Man, I finally join the school like you’ve always wanted me to, and you kick me out of my first official mission.”

Letting out a laugh, Gojo sits down beside Fushiguro as you frown down at him. Leaning back, he glances up at you; “sorry,” he grins.

“I still think I should go, though,” you mumble, glancing back in the direction of the building, eyeing it with worry. Biting your lip, you frown; “I mean, Itadori’s still new and everything. And Nobara’s never been in the city…”

There’s an echo of silence, before Fushiguro adds; “I think I’ll go too.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Gojo calls, “either of you. You’re still recovering.”

Huffing, you nudge Fushiguro’s foot lightly, signaling him to scoot over which he does without complain. Falling into seat beside him, your shoulder lightly touches his own, an action that completely misses you, but Fushiguro however does not. And fighting back the faint blush that threatens to grow on his cheeks, Fushiguro distracts himself by turning back to Gojo.

“Y/N’s right,” he mumbles, “someone should keep an eye on them, especially Itadori.”

“True,” Gojo nods, “but the one we’re testing this time is Nobara.”

Complying, you let out a sigh, leaning back on the palms of your hands, tilting your head up to glance at the curse practically oozing from the building.

As you do, you miss the way Fushiguro keeps eyeing you.

“That Yuji…he’s missing a few up here,” he taps his head for emphasis. “He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these things that take the form of living creatures, albeit bizarre-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it’s not like he’s been familiar with curses for a long time, like the both of you.”

You glance at Gojo, meeting his already awaiting gaze.

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“Yes, darling, but… but you’re scaring me… you’re scaring us!”

Shaking your head, a wave of heat rolls off of you, almost pulsating, and it causes those around you to flinch in fear, pushing away from you. You don’t understand, no one will listen to you – they don’t understand. They won’t understand…

You’re not trying to scare them.

“Mama, please, just–”

She holds a hand to you, stopping you from approaching – it feels like your heart might just break.

“Papa,” you turn, swiftly, desperately, but he looks at you with those same eyes. Those same fearful, disgusted eyes and you can feel the tears welling, your sight blurring. “P-Please…” You cry.

“You have to stay away, Y/N. It’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not safe!”

The words leave your voice in a screech, and you hate the way everyone backs away. This is your family, your mother and father, and your older brother and they’re all avoiding you because they’re afraid of you. They won’t listen to reason. It’s not your fault, you’re not trying to scare them – you’re scared…

You’re terrified.

But they don’t care.

“They won’t leave me! They just follow me! I’m not… please, listen to me! Mama, papa, onii-chan!”

It’s useless. They won’t listen.

They’re too scared.

You feel your heart swelling, anger flooding your senses, and the only thing in your head is; they need to understand.

In a second there’s screams. Your eyes snap open to find red, just… red. There’s so much of it, the smell of it floods your senses and makes you feel sick. The monsters that haunt your dreams, that never leave you no matter how hard you try to make them, fly past you in blurs; the red coats them.

The screams never leave your mind.

They never will.

And in the sea of red, amidst your own sobbing, you see a glow of white, and it shines so brightly you think;

that must be my saviour.

The one you’ve been waiting for.

“Yo!”

He pulls his blindfold back, and the sea of blue you see is just so beautiful, your young heart soars.

“So little to be covered in so much blood.”

“–This is a boy who used to live a normal high school life.”

Blinking at the sound of Gojo’s voice, you’re pulled from your thoughts with a startle. Ignoring the pang in your chest and the way it sits uncomfortably heavy, you ignore the sidewise glance Fushiguro sends you, placing your focus back on what Gojo has to say.

“You’ve both seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, haven’t you?”

You glance at Fushiguro, and the answer is obvious.

“So today I want to confirm how crazy she is.”

“But Kugisaki has experience, right? Little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Curses are born from human minds,” Gojo reminds, “so their strength and numbers grow in proportion to the population. Meaning…”

“Is Nobara aware that curses in Tokyo are on a different level than those in the countryside,” you finish with a nod, leaning forward to eye Gojo. Honestly, despite being an annoyance most of the time, Gojo was good at bringing the best out of his students – so you shouldn’t be all that surprised by his tendency to search for the best either.

Still, it shocks you.

“And when I say ‘level’, I don’t just mean the amount of cursed energy they have,” Gojo continues, “it’s their cunning. Monsters that have gained wisdom often force cruel choices upon you…–”

“It’s just a kid… right?”

“–with the weight of human lives in the balance.”

Gojo’s words hang in the air, and, with a frown, you glance over at Fushiguro, only for his eyes to already be on your own.

Without having to ask, you already know why.

“Megumi–”

You’re cut off by the sound of glass breaking, your eyes snapping up towards the building, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of a curse.

Fushiguro shifts beside you; “I’ll exorcise it.”

“Hold on.” Gojo halts,

And Fushiguro almost looks appalled, stood, waiting, a second later you feel the same – only for spikes to appear through the curses body, it’s eyes bulging, and in the next second for it to simply dissolve.

“Nice,” Gojo grins, and honestly, you have to agree. That was impressive.

“She’s crazy, all right.”

-

“I live over there! Thanks again!”

You watch the kid Itadori and Nobara had rescued for a moment longer, even as Fushiguro and Gojo move to walk off. Peeking your head around the corner, a fond, soft smile curls onto your lips at the mother who opens the door. Obviously relieved that he sons okay, she doesn’t waste another second quickly wrapping the small boy up in her arms and practically pulling him off his feet.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt a mother’s love.

“Y/N?”

Blinking at the sound of Fushiguro’s voice, you turn around, eyes wide at having gotten lost in your own thoughts.

“You coming?” Shoving a hand in his pocket, he tilts his head curiously at you.

“Yup!” You call, popping the ‘p’ as you push back your thoughts. Running to catch up to him, you fall in step with him, bumping his shoulder lightly with a grin to which he turns away, a light dust coating his cheeks, causing you to giggle. He was too easy to tease.

“Good Joseph!” Gojo calls to Itadori and Nobara, who decided to wait on some steps. “We made sure the kid got home.”

Almost instantly, the two stand.

“Now, shall we go grab some food?”

“Steak!” Itadori cries.

“Sushi!” Noabara follows.

With two thumbs up, Gojo grins; “leave it all to me! And, you two?”

You glance over at Fushiguro, rolling your eyes when you notice he’s on his phone, not paying attention. Shrugging, you decide to join in on the fun, pumping your first in the air; “you can’t forget about desert!”

“Of course not!”

“Y/N!” Itadori leans towards you, and you blink at the tears in his eyes.

“You finally understand!” Your eyes widen when Nobara follows him, leaning towards you with an almost proud look.

Tilting your head, your lips part; “huh?”

“Last call, Megumi!”

He continues to ignore Gojo.

“He’s just cranky he didn’t get to do anything today,” you whisper to Itadori and Nobara, giggling when he sends you a glare.

“Well,” Gojo says, voice sickly sweet, “let’s go.” And he simply tugs the three of you along, ignoring Fushiguro, who almost immediately perks up when he notices he’s being left behind.

You let out a laugh as he rushes to join.

“Oh,” Nobara calls, “I forgot about my biggest haul today. You,” she sharply points at Itadori, “go fetch my things.”

“Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even.”

“We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?”

“What about my raw strength?”

“Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?”

“It’s not just that,” Itadori cries, “right, Fushiguro, Y/N?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” you snort.

He just pouts. “Fushiguro?”

There’s no response.

“Huh? What’s the matter, Fushiguro?”

“Nothing–”

“Y/N said it right,” Gojo laughs, “he’s pouting because he didn’t get to join in.”

Letting out a laugh, you nod; “totally is!”

“Puh, puh,” Nobara giggles, a hand to her mouth, “what a child.”

Megumi lets out a grunt, hiding his face behind his collar as the rest of you collectively let out a laugh. And as you share in the moment, glancing around, you’re starting to forget why you were so adamant on spending life alone.

[andvys]

Home

Warnings: angst, fluff, homophobia, homophobic brother, mention of abuse

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

You and Ellie have been best friends from the start. You were the first to befriend her when she came to Jackson, you were nice to her and you always took care of the girl. You introduced her to your little friend group, that she became a part of right away. Ellie couldn’t help but crush on you.

You were her light in the darkness and you made her world a better place. She trusted you and she cherished the friendship. The way you cared about her and would always be there for her when she wasn’t feeling well. You were her angel.

She wished it was more than friendship though and she tried to discreetly make moves on you.

Ellie knew you felt different about her than how you felt about Dina or Jesse. Sure you cared about them, they were your best friends after all and you’d do anything for them but you were more of a sarcastic, funny person with them, one that would tease her friends and make fun of them. Typical friendships.

But with Ellie you were sweet and caring, you’d share everything with her and you gave her all the love. Jesse and Dina would tease her for it, they knew about her crush on you and they’d always encourage her to finally ask you out. But Ellie wasn’t brave enough for that, not yet.

It was clear that you had feelings for her. You shared your first kiss with her and you even made out just for “practice purposes”.

It would always go down the same, you’d come over to her house and you guys would listen to music together and just talk and one of you would pull in for a kiss that would end up in a hot make out session. It went on like that for a while until one day you were at your place instead of hers.

You were making out on your bed, just when you were going to pull away, your brother walked in.

Ellie never liked him, he was obvious about his distaste for the girl and he was pretty open about how homophobic he was.

Him walking in on his younger sister kissing a girl was definitely not something he was prepared for or fond of. He walked out without saying anything and that scared you, you knew the conversation you were about to have with him would end bad and Ellie was worried for you, she offered to stay with you while you were talking to him but you declined saying you’d have to do it alone.

This was the last day you and Ellie hung out together. She didn’t see you for a whole week after that day, she tried to go see you but your brother wouldn’t even let her in and none of your friends have heard anything from you.

She was relieved to see you again but you avoided her, trying to ignore her as much as you could. It hurt you, avoiding the girl you loved so much but your brother threatened to hurt her if you kept seeing her. You knew he was cruel, you’ve seen him do unspeakable things to people that crossed his path when you were still out there and you feared that he would actually hurt Ellie. You hated him, you never got along with him he even had the tendency to be mentally abusive towards you, sometimes even hurting you physically on “accident”. You could bare it though but him pulling you away from Ellie? Yeah you couldn’t bare this but in order to protect her you’d have to let her go.

You cried yourself to sleep every night, all you wanted to do was be with Ellie, be in her arms and tell her how sorry you are but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t risk having her hurt because of your feelings.

That was one year ago. You were still in the same friend group but you always acted like she wasn’t even there. Ellie was heartbroken, she tried talking to you multiple times but she would only get short replies and you wouldn’t even look at her. She knew from Dina that it had something to do with your brother, she knew you wouldn’t just ignore her like that, you would never hurt her like this.

But your brother died a few months ago while he was on patrol and you had plenty of chances to finally go see and talk to her but you didn’t. You felt guilty about pushing her out of your life without any explanation, you felt like you didn’t deserve having her back in your life, so you kept avoiding her.

Ellie wouldn’t have that though, she wanted to give you time after your brother died. Sure he was a homophobic piece of shit but he was still your big brother. She wanted you back in her life, the past year has been miserable for her, not having you by her side was the worst. She was determined on having you back. And she would fight for you.

Your friends decided to have a bonfire night. You were excited since you haven’t seen them in a while, you knew Ellie would be there though and it made you nervous. Nevertheless you were going to have a good time.

And you did have a great time, Jesse brought drinks and Dina made sure you had enough snacks. Ellie brought her guitar and played some songs, reminding you of how she would always play and sing for you.

A few hours into the night. You suddenly heard the familiar tune of ‘take on me’, she knew it was your favorite song and you know it was meant for you. You looked up only to find her looking at you already. Usually you would look away whenever you would find her stare at you but you wouldn’t look a way this time, you couldn’t. Not when she looked this beautiful, her face illuminated by the light of the campfire. She looked so pretty, she always looked pretty but something about that moment was different, the way her eyes were shining and focused just on you, the way she was looking at you. There was no hate in her eyes, you assumed she must hate you by now because of the way she was pushed out of your life and how you avoided her. You hated yourself for it so why didn’t she hate you?

Ellie could never hate you, she adored you so much, she was in love with you and she’d wait a hundred years for you if she had to. She was so happy having you finally look at her, but the look on your face was sad, you looked at her with teary eyes, trying to hold back your tears when she sang for you, not looking away once.

You both were so focused on each other you didn’t even see Dina and Jesse leave. The two of them decided to step away, leaving this moment only for the two of you.

Ellie put the guitar down once she was finished with the song. She looked at you waiting for you to say something first. You got up, Ellie being scared that you were going to leave but you walked towards her and sat down her beside her. She turned to you and looked at you with hope in her eyes.

You sighed, a tear slipping down your face.

“I am so sorry Ellie.” You broke down crying.

“Oh (y/n)”. Ellie immediately scooting closer to you and pulling you into her arms. She was holding you so tight, scared that you’d disappear if she let you go. You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of being in the arms of the girl you love so dearly.

You pulled away from the girl and looked at her. “Ellie I’m so sorry about everything, I understand if you don’t want me in your life anymore.” You started tearing up again, looking down you were scared about what she was going to say.

Ellie not understanding why you were saying that, how could she ever hate you? She loved you so much, you had her heart. She grabbed your face, making you look at her. “(Y/n), I could never hate you, even if you would continue avoiding me for the rest of your life, I wouldn’t hate you. I love you (y/n), I’ll wait for you as long as I have to, you mean everything to me.”

You felt so loved in this moment, your heart was about to burst. Tears continued to fall down your face, Ellie wiped them away and kissed your cheek. “I don’t deserve you Ellie”.

“Yes you do, I know you did what you did to protect me. Dina told me about your brother. It’s okay (y/n), it’s not your fault. I would’ve done the same thing if I were you. If anything, this showed me how much you care about me and like I said, I’d wait forever for you.” Ellie was not going to lose you because you felt like you don’t deserve her, she’d have to reassure you that, all of this wasn’t your fault.

“I love you so much, Ellie. You have no idea how much I wanted to come see you and tell you how sorry I am.” She looked at you, with a sad smile on her beautiful face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I got you back now don’t I? You are worth waiting for (y/n)”. She stroked your cheek and kissed your cheek again.

“I’ll never leave you again, Ellie. I can’t even begin to describe how I felt without having you by my side. I.. don’t ever want to lose you again. Forgive me Ellie.”

She gave you a sad smile, “there’s nothing to forgive babe.” She pulled you into her again, hugging you.

The both of you being so happy again, having each other back, finally being able to hold each other again after so long. The love you felt for each other could never be replaced by anything in this world.

Ellie pulled away from the hug and grabbed your face instead, kissing your lips softly. You put your arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer to you, kissing her back. This kiss was sweet and full of love, you could stay like this forever. Pulling away from each other you were breathless. “Wow” you sighed.

Ellie laughed shyly and put her forehead against yours and closed her eyes, you doing the same. Enjoying this moment, she pulled you in for another kiss.

No matter what, you would always have each other. Nothing could pull you apart. You are meant for each other, you’d always find your way back home.

Home that’s what Ellie is to you and that’s what you are to her. You’re each other’s safe haven and no one and nothing could ever come in between your love.

[otptings]

Flowers

☽ Requested; Yes

☽ Idol; Jungwon

☽Word Count; 3.3k+

☽ Genre; Hanahaki (lots of mentions for it) Friends to Lovers, slight Angst

☽ Warnings; Self deprecating thoughts, mentions of hanahaki disease, slight blood, lots of cringe flower metaphors

☽ Synopsis; Date night has been a monthly tradition since before Jungwon debuted in Enhypen. This is your first day out in months with Jungwon, but somethings different about this one. Is it the fact that he's an idol now, and all of your activities happen in empty establishments that have been bought out by his management, or is it your newly returning feelings for Jungwon that threatened to choke you out, causing dark violet flowers to spew out of your mouth at every interaction with him?

☽ A/n; The zoo I am describing for this is the Honolulu Zoo because that is the last one that I've been to, so if some of the animals aren't in Seoul than I apologize for that. Hope you enjoy this and sorry for taking so long on this request I had so many ideas of how to pull off the dates

You trusted Jungwon. It came easily like breathing, only a natural side effect developed effortlessly over 5 years of friendship. Days spent laughing and telling jokes, venting to each other about worries and stresses, studying for hours the night before tests. With someone as generous, and lovable as him it was easy to trust him with your life. He has also used this to his advantage, convincing you to do questionable things with a flash of his dimples. Like now, allowing him to lead you down the streets of Seoul while blindfolded. Completely at his mercy.

"Are we close? My feet are starting to hurt. We've been walking for hours." You whined as Jungwon pulled you around another corner. You've lost your sense of direction 4 turns ago, and he seemed to keep on going. "Why couldn't your manager just drive us the whole way? You had to have him stop super far from wherever you're taking me?" Jungwon just let out a laugh and gently squeezed your wrist. . His hand surrounding your wrist was comforting and grounding, a reminder that you were safe with him.

"We're almost there I promise. And if I would've done that it wouldn't have been a surprise now would it." You humphed knowing that Jungwon was stubborn when it came to things like this.

"You always do this. It's not fair, your ideas are always so much fancier than mine." Jungwon let out another laugh, and you didn't have to see him to know his expression. Eyes probably scrunched up, his dimples greeting the world as he laughed at my pain.

"It's not my fault that I love you so much. Plus I always want to do something special with you." Confusion flooded your mind while your heart skipped multiple beats at his words.

In the same sense of truth, feelings were natural too. Flowering in your chest with every sweet action he did, never wanting a reward for it just doing them because that's the kind of person he is. Packing extra food in his lunch box knowing your tendency to forget your own. Cupping your cheeks while he wiped away your tears, listening to you rant about your sorrows or broken hearts. Pulling you close to his chest afterwards, massaging the back of your head knowing how bad your headaches get after crying. Arms wrapped securely around you as he whispered calming words into your ear, a sense of security and comfort blanketing you while listening to his heart beat. Every gentle, caring and loving action made the flowers grow.

When Jungwon told you about his plan to audition for Be-Lift one part of you was selfish. You wanted him to stay, turn down the biggest opportunity of his lifetime, continue being only your Jungwon. That part was tiny however; and you squashed down those bitter feelings. You were absolutely ecstatic for him, having been the one to even push him towards the auditions. Stayed up hours at night to watch him practice, seeing his confidence grow tremendously the weeks leading to that fateful day.

When he got accepted you both celebrated the great news. His parents held a dinner in his honor, and his family sat around the table, congratulating him and his accomplishment. At first you were happy for him, overflowing with joy that your best friend had passed the biggest audition of his life. But as the day got closer you had to hide your heart break, smiling despite the tears you shed at night. Knowing that he was going to leave you soon.

The night before he left for I-Land was the hardest one, cuddling into his side while you laid in his bed. The last time in a while you would be in his room like this, only the two of you and the quiet of the night. You didn't sleep the whole night, only savoring the feeling of Jungwon holding you tightly, the last night of him being yours. Your best friend. Your first love.

Your Jungwon.

For the first time in 5 years you were apart for longer than a couple weeks. During this time the flowers started to wilt. You were grateful, ecstatic. Of course you missed Jungwon terribly, tuning in every Friday to support him. Eyes watering every time you watched him perform , pride prevailing over any negative emotions you could have as he confidently took the stage. When it was revealed he had made the debut team you had wailed, preening at your best friend's accomplishment knowing that his hard work paid off.

When Jungwon came home to visit your feelings were gone. You didn't feel the twisting in your chest when you hugged him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you both cried. Pulling away to look him in the face your heart didn't flutter at his smile, you only relished in the feeling that your best friend was back.

You thought your feelings had wilted into piles of dust and blown away. Not having seen him for months of course that'd be normal. You had thought your feelings were gone for good when you started to see him more frequently and they still hadn't returned.

You were wrong.

"Are you okay bugs?" Snapping out of your daze you realized that Jungwon was standing directly in front of you, one hand cupping your face and concern in his eyes. You nodded your head, cursing yourself for being getting so distracted.

"I'm fine bunny." His eyes scanned your face once before he leaned back, letting his hand linger.

"You know I just worry about you sometimes." Dropping his hand to his side he turned dramatically, switching the topic and gesturing at the box office in front of us. His manager was there waiting for us, underneath the gigantic sign for the zoo. "But I knew that you missed the zoo since we haven't gone in a long time. So I actually convinced management to rent it out for us for 2 hours."

Practically leaping into his arms you wrapped your arms around his neck, a huge smile spreading across your face. "Thank you thank you thank you!" Pulling away you saw his facial expression mimicking yours, dimples proudly on display and bunny teeth prominent.

"Come on, let's go." You giggled as you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the gate. After getting your wrist bands - just for the experience - you downloaded the digital map and headed into the zoo ecstatic for your day with Jungwon.

♤♠︎♤

"Come on bugs, just look at the snake." You shook your head vehemently, trying to yank your hand free. His fingers only tightened around you wrist as he attempted to convince you to look at the giant snake in the glass enclosure merely 3 feet away from where you stood.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Jungwon." You whined out his name, refusing his outrageous request.

Snakes were definitely a no for you. Especially a boa constrictor that can grow up to 13 ft long. The one they held in the exhibit was only 5 ft, but it could always become bigger. What would even need to get that big? Any animal that needs to be 5+ ft is a menace to society, and only here for evil. You'd already catered to Jungwon enough in this godforsaken reptile and amphibian section. The frogs were cute, absolutely adorable with their big glassy eyes, hanging on to the glass. Lizards weren't a big deal either, some of them over 3 ft long, lazing about their enclosure, enjoying the surprisingly warm Seoul day.

"Isn't this supposed to be a special day for me? Why would you make me see a stupid snake? They don't even have arms, that's so weird and creepy." Jungwon let out a laugh before pulling you over to him, a squeal leaving your lips as your back met his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. At the slightest display of affection you stopped fighting him, feeling the vines squeezing around your heart painfully, before he started to walk forward and you remembered where you were. Fighting for your life.

You tried to plant your feet in the ground to prevent Jungwon from forcing you to see the snake, but he only lifted your feet from the ground as you cursed the stupid Be:Lift gyms. His manager stared in amusement from the corner, his phone out to record the two of you and undoubtably show it to the rest of the members.

Another loud squeal left your mouth as Jungwon brought you right in front of the glass enclosure, the snake was sitting in the corner but slowly started moving towards the two of you, as if you had fascinated it. You turned your head, placing it in the crook of Jungwon's neck as you squeezed your eyes tight. Ignoring the fear that coursed through your body knowing that the snake was only separated by a thin layer of plexiglass.

"Bugs just look." You only shook your head, "I promise the snake won't hurt you as long as I'm here okay? You know I'll always protect you." Jungwon's soft voice cut through the fear, and you sighed knowing that you were falling into another one of his traps. You turned your head while taking a deep breath before opening your eyes, being met with the face of the snake.

With Jungwon's constant flow of reassurance in your ear you took a good look at the snake. The snake was against the glass, falling back down before slithering up again. Its eyes were wide open and almost looked like doe eyes, black and glassy as it stared at you. The scales were a pretty pastel yellow, mixed with white, resembling a banana cow. You were so distracted admiring the snake that you both jumped when his manager suggested you should get along, and walk further into the park. You felt your heart clench painfully as Jungwon stepped away from you, a blush running up his neck and spreading over his cheeks as he quickly walked to the next exhibit not bothering to wait for you.

♤♠︎♤

"I think this is the best friend date we've ever had." Jungwon spoke happily as you two walked out of the zoo gift shop, a red fox panda stuffed animal tucked safely in your arms. His treat since he refused to let you pull out your wallet and purchase it for yourself. You chose to ignore the flutter of your heart and rush of heat at the thought of this being a true date, your mind decidedly ignoring the word 'friend'. Your cheeks ached as you smiled. They've started to hurt after the amount of time spent joking and laughing while visiting the animals.

"It was. I really appreciated it. I've missed you, it's been so long since we've been able to hang out like this." Jungwon nodded in agreement, an uncharacteristically shy smile spreading across your face.

"Come on. The nights still not over, I have one more surprise for you." Jungwon tossed his arm over your shoulder as he led you to the car, excitement and surprise as you thought about what he could potentially still have planned.

Being ever the gentleman he opened the door for you, waiting until you were safely inside to close it and join you. His manager turned on the radio as he drove you two to the next destination.

"Don't tell me we're going to have to walk again? My feet are still dying from the zoo." Jungwon let out a laugh as he grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he intertwined your fingers.

"We won't have to walk too much I promise. Just sit back and relax, it shouldn't take too long to get there." You nodded your head before quickly looking out of the window, no longer able to ignore it.

The vines grew in your chest, clenching painfully around your heart, writhing and squeezing like a boa constrictor trying to capture its prey, crawling up your throat making you resist the urge to gag. Lungs filling with petals that swirled and fluttered around with every breath until there were too many, leaving no room to move around, just clumping together as breathes became sickly. Until you could no longer resist the urge to cough.

The sound of you hacking and gagging, the sight of a worried Jungwon when the first petal comes out. Dark violet petals fluttering out with every spasm of your lungs, some full flowers with stems still attacked, coated with a thin layer of maroon liquid, staining the pretty petals and tinging your pink sweater with spots of red, the bitter taste of the flowers mixing with copper. Your throat sore as the taste of bile rose alongside the rest of the petals, finally emptying your lungs. Filling the car until there was no room to hide from it, hide from your feelings. Hide from the predicament that you were in, feelings for you best friend, the rookie idol.

How could you be so stupid to believe that you could hide it? You were always so easily exposed to Jungwon. He knew you better than you knew yourself. What if he already knew and was just biding his time before he left you, the thought of your feelings disgusting him, being too much for him? He could surely find another best friend, one who wouldn't fall for him.

But could that ever happen? Someone not falling for him. It's easy to fall for his eyes, chocolate eyes that always saw right through you. That knew when you weren't feeling good and were trying to hide it. Dark unruly hair, never easily tamed but was so silky when you ran your fingers through it. Despite being called bunny he practically purred whenever you did it, causing your face to burn at the feelings that always resurfaced. Caring nature that assured he'd become the leader of his group, always wanting to care for everyone around him and make sure that they were happy.

You don't think it'd ever be possible for someone to not fall for him.

"Are you okay bugs?" You blinked realizing that the car door was open, Jungwon standing in front of you with the same concerned look that made you feel ashamed, and yet warmed.

Glancing around you realized you had imagined the coughing fit, drowning in the sea of your own emotions and being buried under a mountain of petals. It was all in your imagination, hanahaki didn't exist. How could it? If it existed you would surely be dead.

Shaking your head you waved off the question, unbuckling your seatbelt and quickly hoping out of the van.

"Of course. I'm perfectly fine, just feeling a little tired I guess. Must've gotten lost in my thoughts. Anyway, where are we?" Jungwon raised a brow at your rambling, knowing you only did it when you were nervous before choosing to ignore it and grabbing your hand again. You hoped he couldn't feel how sweaty your palms were, nerves taking over you at the realization your feelings and thoughts had run away from you again.

"Well I wanted to do something really special for you," You shook your head before cutting Jungwon off.

"The zoo was perfect Jungwon, you don't have to do anything else. Today was perfect already." Jungwon shushed you as he led you into the building, his manager staying behind. Leading you to the elevators he pressed a button before getting on, waiting for the doors to close behind the both of you before he continued to speak.

"You've supported me throughout this whole journey. Pushing me to audition when I was too nervous, and didn't think that I would make it. When I got accepted into I-Land you supported me even when I was leaving you in the middle of the school year, texted me every night to let me know that you were watching and were always rooting for me. Knowing how proud I was making you when the thought of me debuting wasn't official helped me work harder, and continue to push myself," He got cut off as the elevator dinged, signaling that you were at your floor. Jungwon pulled you off the elevator towards a set of stairs that led to a door labeled roof. Jungwon turned towards you, his face deathly serious causing you to get a lot nervous at the sudden sober move.

"Before we go out there I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful that you are in my life. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, constantly supporting me throughout everything. You are what has pushed me this far bugs, and I love you. You're my best friend and I owe you so much for constantly being there." You smiled, ignoring the pain in your chest. Of course he'd only think of you as his best friend, there's no way he'd see you as anything else.

"Of course Jungwon. You can't put it all on me, you worked hard to get to where you are. I'm proud of you because you constantly push yourself, not because you've been successful. You'll always be my Jungwon even if you wouldn't debuted with Enhypen, and I would've always been proud of you." Red dusted over Jungwon's cheeks as he smiled shyly, before opening the roof door and pushing you in front of him.

You were left speechless at the sight in front of you. Blankets laid out over the ground, picnic baskets placed in the middle to prevent the wind from blowing them away. Pastel pink flowers spread out being blown lightly by the wind but not leaving the roof. Fairy lights spread out emitting a soft golden glow barely recognizable under the setting sun. Clouds flitting over the pink, and orange sky. Adding on to the beautiful aesthetic of the set up.

What truly had your attention was the rest of his members standing around the blankets, signs being held out at arm's length. Their various expressions showed excitement, minus Niki who tried to look emotionally detached from the situation but was bouncing on his toes, practically jumping.

From tomorrow,

I'll protect you

All Day and Night

Now Lean on Me

Will you go out with me Bugs?

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, a thick lump in your throat growing. All of their expressions morphed into worry, Niki had even stopped bouncing on his toes, Heeseung glanced at Jungwon slight panic evident in his face. A loud sob left your mouth as you turned around and threw yourself onto Jungwon, tossing your arms around his neck. A nervous laugh left his mouth as he slid his around your waist, holding you almost protectively.

Jungwon pulled away from you, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks, attempting to wipe the river of tears away.

"These are happy tears right?" A weak smile spread across your lips, nodding slowly at him. Seeing his smile come back full force, dimples showing happily. Vines loosening around your heart for the first time in months, falling away as they disintegrated. Petals evaporating leaving behind only fresh air in your lungs, breathes flowing freely as you stared at Jungwon. Boba eyes staring back at you, only showing love. His thumbs stopped wiping as he leaned forward barely, glancing at your lips briefly.

"Can I kiss you?" You eagerly hummed, a soft yes being your answer.

Jungwon leaned forward, leaving space for you to back out if you were too overwhelmed. You met his lips, inciting cheers and groans from the members present, seeing their leader kissing his best friend. Your lips moved in sync, one more thing you guys did perfect together. You must admit, the taste of salt from your cheers, along with the dramatic cheers from his members did not make for the best first kiss experience. Especially for a first kiss that you had fantasized and imagined about for years.

Knowing that was only the first of many however, made it all the sweeter.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

dedicated to @quicksilver-ships <3 SPN 15x18 coda, tfw 2.0 angst.

Jack's waiting in the corridor when Dean exits room 7B, followed by an exhausted looking Sam. Dean knows he looks like shit too — and it's confirmed when Jack's face falls even harder on seeing him.

"Dean."

He sounds terrified.

"Hey, kid." Dean's mouth twists in a grimace. He's about to excuse himself — or try to anyways, since Sam probably wouldn't take too kindly to Dean fleeing to the undeniable loneliness of their whiskey cabinet after about an hour of intermittent crying, and a lot of it into his brother's stupid shirt too (Dean's not proud of it either) as he told him about Cas. He'd probably try to force some grub down Dean's throat instead. Hell, maybe even let go of his shiny, new hippie handbook and fry Dean some real fucking grief bacon.

And it wouldn't really work to go against his brother at times like these. Sam always ends up (wordlessly) in charge when they lose family, and fuck, have they lost family today.

Fuck, has Dean lost everything.

"Dean, I —" Jack exchanges a look with Sam, eyes flitting up and back to Dean's, nervous as though for affirmation, and then he's stepping forward, head bowed, eyebrows netted, and he's hugging Dean.

Dean stiffens, but feels Jack's resolution crumble almost immediately, and puts his hand on the kid's back.

"It's okay." He hears himself mutter.

"I'm sorry." Jack finishes, not letting go. He's shorter, so it's not like hugging the others. It's almost like being held on to, and Jack's fists curl desperately in Dean's jacket, and his heart thuds against Dean's ribs, evoking a fierce protectiveness in the mess of bleeding fragments that once made up Dean's heart — he's his kid, and Cas's kid, and Dean's got to take care of him like he's taken care of Sammy, of course he does — and it's really, really nothing like hugging anyone else.

Dean holds him tight, closes his eyes, and lets out a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" Dean asks blankly, the answer hitting him a fraction of a second after he hears his own words.

The blood in his veins freezes.

"You knew?"

"I'm sorry," Jack repeats, choked. He pulls away, takes a step back, and doesn't meet Dean's eyes. "I did. Castiel told me, and I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you, he made me promise, and he told me I didn't need to worry, and I —" His voice breaks. "I believed him. I'm sorry."

Dean thinks he's supposed to feel anger, but when he looks inside, all he finds is a blunt numbness. "You believed him."

"I'm really sorry." Jack cries, and Dean notices Sam's arm reaching to comfort the kid, but he stops him.

"Wait." Dean tells his brother, and turns to Jack. He knows he's wearing his iciest face, the glint in his eyes the most detached, and it's not like he means to, but he can see it scares Jack. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Jack falters.

"What is it?" Dean demands, and finally, as if in response, his anger flares. Cas is gone — gone forever — and the kid had known.

They could have fucking saved him.

"What's the real reason, Jack?" Dean shouts, and his gut screams at him to do something harsher. He has to know why Jack wouldn't tell them. The kid's hiding something even now. "I know you didn't trust shit. Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you fucking tell —"

"Dean." Sam warns, sounding pissed.

Dean couldn't care less.

"Answer me, or I fucking swear." Dean grits his teeth. "Why didn't you tell us, Jack —"

"Dean!" Sam growls, cutting him off, and angrily pushing past to get to Jack. Dean jolts back to his senses when Sam rams into his side, and stares in shock at a red-faced Jack falling to his knees, crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jack begs, shaking uncontrollably as Sam tries to compose him, glaring furiously at Dean as he rubs Jack's back. "I didn't believe him, no, but I — I just didn't want —"

Dean stays rooted to the spot, his face flushed as he violently blinks back a tear.

"I didn't want you to think Castiel wasn't happy with you." Jack says, sobbing with every syllable in Sam's arms. Sonuvabitch, Dean was a horrible person. "Because you were, and I was, and he was supposed to be, and I think he pretended sometimes, and that's hurtful, and I didn't want you to feel deceived or betrayed, or hurt like I did, when I realized he was never happy with us."

If Sam's as flummoxed as Dean is, it doesn't show on his face. (How does he keep it in, Dean wonders belatedly, vexed with admiration.)

"I know you — you thought he was family, and I know you were both happy, and I just didn't want you to hurt —" Jack's voice cracks, and Sam squeezes him worriedly, at which he moves to bury himself in Sam's chest.

Dean doesn't realize when he fell to his knees either, staring at his brother and son.

Jack's words got to him — his way of seeing this, the innocence, and the childlike fear in his voice pierces through Dean's armor of rage and asshole-parenting-tendencies, and he breaks. He breaks, and he spills, and Dean finds himself guiltily eyeing his brother and the sobbing child in his arms from eye-level, before he knows what to make of it.

"I knew it was my fault," Jack's still mumbling, dazed, between loud breaths. "My fault he wasn't happy — I wasn't enough — never good enough, strong enough — he wouldn't say it, wouldn't ever say it — but he could never be happy because of me —"

"It's not you, Jack." Sam promises, wringing himself dry of sincerity in saying it. "Never been you."

"S'not you." Dean adds, voice trembling, and Sam looks up with red-rimmed eyes from a couple feet away, smile one of the saddest Dean's ever seen on him, and he gestures him closer.

Dean blinks, but he goes.

He's done being destructive, he's fucking tired of causing pain to the people he loves, and he trusts Sam — trusts him to be right, trusts him to be in control, and Sam's asking him to come closer and hug Jack, so it must help in making things right.

Dean drags himself to them, ashamed of himself.

"Cas loved you, Jack." Sam swears, steady and true, speaking over Jack's agitated muttering, and finally, Jack stops.

"He loved you very much." Sam says again, promises it, and Jack curls into himself again, crying more quietly now. Dean can't take it, and he puts his own hand on the kid's shoulder — uncertain, but braving past it when Jack flinches, and Dean exchanges a mildly reassuring glance with Sam before hugging Jack too.

Sam's voice quivers the third time he says it. "He loved all of us."

And Dean reaches for his little brother, his brave, brave little brother, and pulls him into the hug too. A tear rolls down Sam's cheek as he does the same, Jack remaining hugged between them — slowly shifting so he holds onto them both.

Sam's words ring in Dean's ears as the three of them stay, wrapped in each other's arms and safety as they mourn Castiel, Angel of the Lord, hero, and a Winchester forever. Family, until the end of time.

They echo in his hollow chest until he comes apart again.

Cas loved you. He loved you very much.

[keeper0fthestars]

midnight cravings and other starry-eyed confessions

Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: Frankie trusts you enough to let his guard down, to be vulnerable with you. Love languages and the messy emotions that go along with that, fluff, cheesy self-indulgence. this started out as a series of soft h/c and I have no idea what happened.  3K words later, here we are. A few of you have touched on domestic Frankie in the kitchen and it turns out i'm a sucker for the ‘slow dancing in the kitchen’ trope too. 

warnings: mentions of anxiety/PTSD, a tiny bit of smut 

~~ 

Francisco Morales is a man who notices everything. He tucks a blanket around you when you've fallen asleep on the couch. If you're outside together and if he sees goosebumps on your arms, he’ll drape his jacket around your shoulders before you even realize you're cold.

He notices when you're exhausted after a long day and he’ll be there to wrap his arms around you as if it’s what he’s been waiting for all day long. He makes you laugh when you need it most.

He notices when you're too tired to shower sometimes and he says, ‘babe, let me help you,’ and he gets in the shower with you and if you want him to, he'll wash your hair because he knows how. 

His tendency to do little things for you plays into one of his love languages. He notices when the fuel gauge on your car is low and he'll fill it up for you without saying anything. Not that you can't do it yourself, he knows you can, but the next time you get into your car, you'll try unsuccessfully to hide your smile when you discover he did it for you.

Frankie is a man who finds comfort in your nearness. 

If he finds you in the kitchen making coffee, two broad arms will wrap around you from behind. If he’s walking through a crowd with you, his hand will rest on the small of your back. If he's sitting beside you at a restaurant, if you're in the car with him, anywhere within arms reach, soft fingertips rest on the inside of your knee, his thumb moving back and forth. In the mornings, there are warm lips on your shoulder and ‘c’ mere baby’ as he folds you closer to that sleepy thick voice.

He'll drive across town on his day off to bring your favourite treat at work because he knows you have a stressful day ahead. 

If he's away for the week, he’ll stash away little notes for you to find. He'll surprise you with tickets to see your favourite singer.  When you’re under the weather, he'll show up on your doorstep after work with hot soup and honey ginger tea.  

He also knows he can count on you. 

It’s getting a single text at the end of the day with the words ‘I need you’  

It's the brittle sound of his voice against your neck in the middle of the night. You hold him and talk him down and fight his demons with him when it becomes too hard to do on his own. You never force him to talk about it. When he's ready, he'll tell you and right now, the way his fingers are absently tracing patterns on your bare arm tells you that his guard is down, in the darkness he trusts you. 

He’s getting used to the safety of your arms. He's slowly getting used to the way you pay attention; the way you listen, and actually hear what he's saying. He notices you're not just lying there, waiting to jump in and interrupt the moment he stumbles and falters. He's glad you can't see his eyes right now in the darkness of your bedroom, but at least his voice no longer shakes.

You've made a safe space for him inside your arms and underneath the blankets, he confides in you. He tells you that his neighbours think he’s lazy because he lets his front yard grow out of control when in reality, the smell of fresh-cut grass triggers his PTSD and that’s why he doesn't use the lawnmower as often as he should.

Two days later, he would come home from work to find it all done for him and it sends his heart reeling so hard he thinks he might collapse right there on the driveway.

No one's done anything like this for him before. The fact that you’d done that for him. The fact that you did that. For him.

You’ve just piled a week’s worth of freshly laundered clothes into a basket to be folded when there’s a knock on your door. Resting the basket on one hip, you swing the door open and see him standing there, still dressed in work clothes, sleeves rolled up, and hands in his pockets. He lifts the brim of his hat to reveal a pair of piercing eyes brimming with some desperate emotion you have no name for, his mouth parted slightly, chest caving in like the wind’s been knocked out of him. 

“Francisc-,” is all you manage before he wordlessly barrels in, capturing your waist in one arm so fast your stomach lurches. His other hand gently curves around the back of your neck, his thumb on your jaw, tenderly seizing your lips in a blinding kiss, smothering you, engulfing you with those broad shoulders. The basket of clothes tumbles to the tile floor in your tiny foyer, forgotten. Warm hands cover the expanse of your back as he holds onto you, your spine bending with the force of him. You hear his hat softly hit the floor as he inhales shakily against your neck like his throat is clogged.

Judging by how hard he’s struggling to control his breathing, you might be able to guess why he hasn’t let go of you yet. Melting into his embrace, you breathe him in, combing your fingers through his tousled hair. You smile against the swell of emotion stinging behind your eyelids. Struggling with a hitch in your own throat, your voice shrinks to nothing but a hoarse whisper, "you never have to do it again, okay."

“Thank you,” he manages in a watery voice, pushing his face into the bottom of your neck. Words fail him but not because he can't talk about his feelings, but because words are too simple to express the depth of emotion he has for you. When you're inside his arms, cradled against his chest, with his lips against your temple, you hear all the things he doesn't say out loud. 

**

His love language is handing you a bowl with two scoops of ice cream when you’d only asked for one. He rolls his eyes and kisses the corner of your mouth, ‘you never only want one’

It's tickle fights and sappy old movies and saving all the red m&m’s for you because those are your favourite. 

He's the man all your friends wish they had.

He's also the man that will casually rest his hand on your thigh under Santiago's crowded dinner table and secretly start tracing letters on your jeans, slowly spelling out what he wants to do to you afterwards. He is enjoying the fact that you're too distracted to finish eating now, and if you so much as look at him, he’ll stop. 

His love language is being in the kitchen late at night, dancing to an old playlist, your soft curves fitted into his solid frame. One of you had a craving for cookies and someone left them in the oven a bit too long and now they're a little too brown. But it’s not his fault that Andy Kim started singing from the tiny speaker on the table and Frankie needed every inch of you pressed against him and it still wasn’t enough. 

Maybe his jaw accidentally, on purpose, brushed the spot at the bottom of your neck that made goosebumps shiver down your arms. Maybe his mouth lingered on the skin behind your ear and trailed up across your cheekbone, nudging your face upward, his breath mingling with yours.

Maybe his mouth still tasted like the sweet ache of your first orgasm from earlier that evening when you’d left Santiago's place and Frankie couldn't unlock the door of his truck fast enough to nudge you back across the seat, his eyes all dark and hungry like he'd had this on his mind all day. And maybe he did. Maybe he'd parked here at the far end of the block on purpose knowing this dead-end would be dark and quiet at this time of night. His door swung wide, he’d stood between your legs on the broken pavement, using two fingers and a thumb to loosen the button on your jeans, a gruff edge to his voice, 'Lay down for me, baby.’

His mouth was slow and lazy but his hands were greedy, tugging your jeans down just to your knees, trapping your legs together and lifting them, bending his head underneath your knees, leaving just enough space between your legs for his mouth. 

When you finally do make it to his place, maybe you end up on the couch straddling his lap. 

The only thing better than the slide of your tongue in his mouth is the sweet stretch of you around his cock. He’s fairly certain nothing will ever exist beyond the flare in your eyes when he twitches inside you and he feels every snug inch of you clench tight and wet.  

‘...so fucking good for me’

You are unable to move beneath the solid weight of his hands on your hips, his grip on your supple thighs, where they press and dig and tease. He likes it when your fingers are lost in his overgrown curls. 

Something deep in his stomach blazes white and hot when you tell him how fucking good he makes you feel. Seated as deep as he can go, he rocks, fucking into you that much further, giving you the friction you need. He likes to bunch the thin fabric of your t-shirt in one fist, yanking it just high enough so he can see how hard your nipples are. 

He wants to chase the deafening arousal in his stomach when you beg him to ‘just please fuck you already.’ 

He grins, his breath hot, his voice like gravel right above your ear, 'gimme one more first'  

The sound of your muffled whimper against his mouth nearly sends him over the edge so he slips his thumb down, circling once, twice.  Your sharp gasp pulls all the air out of his mouth. He likes the sight of you falling apart; he doesn't even wait for you to come down this time because his favourite thing to do is fuck you through it. One solid hand anchoring your hip firmly in place, the other arm caged across your back, gripping the top of your shoulder for leverage, he finally gives you what you want. 

Eventually, you make it to the bed; his bare legs tangled with yours, his ear resting on your chest. The soothing echo of your heartbeat combined with your fingers sifting through his hair soothes every frayed edge inside his mind. 

He wants your scent in his bed forever. He wants to come home from work to see your car in his driveway; he wants your toothbrush next to his, he wants to go grocery shopping with you, he wants to fall asleep with you curled into him, he wants to wake up every morning and reach for your warmth and leave kisses on your shoulder not wanting to get out of bed. 

“Frankie,” you whisper. 

“Hmm?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

A soft puff of air escapes his nose, you see his sheepish smile as he nuzzles his face into your t-shirt, tracing his nose along your exposed clavicle. “Is that so?” 

"You can tell me," you offer.

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow. He’s been laying on you so long that his hair is flattened on one side; there is a crease on his cheek from a seam on your t-shirt. 

He dips his head, craving the softness of your lips; not letting you read what’s on his glass face. In a slow succession of kisses one after another, I don’t want to live without you, he pours forever into your lungs, you’re everything.

His mouth is unhurried, his stubble tickling softly, and it sends you into a hazy half-awake state where breathing no longer matters. You are nothing without the weight of his body beside you, without the sweet warmth of his mouth, without the backs of his fingers tracing the bare skin at your waist.  How could you ever define the way you bloom under his touch? An entire lifetime could go by inside this moment, clinging to his ribs, with your hand against the rough side of his jaw, his forehead pressed against yours, and you’d happily allow it. 

All too soon he pulls away. It’s no small feat to open your eyes again but when you do, he’s watching you, his head slanted, one side of his mouth tilting upwards, the curve of it reaching his eye, making it crease. The look in his eyes makes your heart twist.  

“What was all that?” you stutter, surprised your voice even works after that.

His words are right there, taking up space in his mouth, he’s never been surer of anything in his life. Move in with me.

“Let's make cookies,” comes out instead.

Your eyes widen because you know he’s not joking. “NOW?” 

“You’re gonna say no to chocolate chip cookies,” he nips at your neck, unable to hide a smile, “really?”

“I don’t think you realize, my legs stopped working like two hours ago.”

“We don’t even have to bake them,” he sits up, throwing his t-shirt over his head, pulling his jeans over his bare ass. He bends down to kiss you again, that boyish grin working its magic. “We can just eat it outta the bowl with a spoon.”

“Fine, but I am not putting pants on.”  

“Even better.” 

He’s managed to keep his hands off you long enough to measure the butter and sugar and flour, and when he’s done mixing, you reach into the bowl for a taste, he tries to swat your hand away. But you're faster. 

Barely. 

"Wanna lick," teasing him, you twist away with a mouthful of cookie dough. There’s a high-pitched squeal as he snares your waist, pulling you back with frightening speed. 

The hand around your waist playfully digging while you squirm, the devious crinkle around his eyes a reminder that you are powerless against his quiet strength. The single thought sends a low tingle of arousal down your spine. 

With his free hand, he calmly reaches for the bowl on the counter.

"You were saying?" his voice like velvet, low and playful, one eyebrow quirked up, two of his fingers armed with playful retaliation and now you’re laughing so hard no sound is coming out.

"Hey…" you manage, between breathless giggles, ‘be nice,' struggling to hold his wrist away with both hands, trying to anticipate his next move, the wicked glint in his eyes sends another deep shiver down your back. 

"Ohhh," he hums, "I’ll be nice alrigh-," 

But you don’t give him a chance to finish the thought, distracting him with a wet swipe of your mouth along his bottom lip. 

He melts like a sugar cube on your tongue. 

Taking full advantage of the golden lapse where his brain stutters and stops before he chases your mouth, you pull his fingers into your mouth sucking every bit of sweetness onto your tongue. 

His gaze falls to your mouth, to his fingers buried to the first knuckle. 

Somewhere between his ‘fuck, you’re such a tease,’ and your ‘two can play this game, sweetheart,’ the walls of his tiny kitchen echo with laughter. At some point, he finally manages to cage you against the counter.

"Mm," he growls against your lips, "you taste like chocolate and sex." 

You very nearly lose yourself in the dark heat of his eyes.  "No babe, that’s you." 

Surprisingly enough, there's enough cookie dough left for a single pan. The light dusting of cocoa powder on his cheek currently matches the state of your kitchen and now you have twelve minutes to kill before you can take them out of the oven. Leaving the bowls in the sink, he pulls you against him again. 

'C’mere, it’s a good song, dance with me’ and well, you're now occupied with the lingering taste of his tongue inside your mouth and you, just, sort of, forget to set the oven timer.

At some point, the small of your back bumps against the wall, your hands tracing the smooth length of his back underneath his t-shirt, slipping down into the back pockets of his jeans, a brand new ache already throbbing where the bulge of his zipper pins you in place, his soft little moan, hotter than sin. You feel him twitch against the seam of your panties, his fingers blindly finding the warm skin under your shirt, cupping the weight of bare breasts, thumbs scraping, teasing. The whole world fades away when his eyes darken like this. 

The digital clock on the coffee machine blinks into single digits and you find yourselves sitting on the floor, backs against the cupboards, catching your breath. At some point, the oven was shut off, oven mitts were involved, and you'll never be able to look at double chocolate chip cookies the same way again. Leaning heavily on his shoulder, one bare leg still splayed over his, it takes considerable effort to keep your eyes open. When you look up, there is a tender ache in your chest at the sight of Frankie's mussed hair and permanently flushed cheeks, his eyes drowsy and sweet, shining with a gentleness that takes your breath away. 

He lifts your hand, bringing your knuckles to his warm lips, before ducking down and capturing your mouth with his.  Your throat fills with a fierce rush of pastel pink words. Foolish words like always and forever, sugary blossoms that dissolve on your tongue, permeating your bloodstream, swapping your heart for a glowing blissful mess. You want to tell him. You want to tell him you cannot live without him. 

Holding a glass of milk, he assures you around a mouthful of cookie still warm from the baking pan, "if you dunk the cookie in the milk long enough, you can barely tell they’re burnt."

And it's fucking perfect.

~~ 

[suddenlysackler]

Limelight

Adam Sackler x Reader

TW: N/A (maybe a lil smidge of angst but nothing major)

A/N: This has been on the back burner for quite a bit and it’s a tad messy but I wanted to put it out for you all because I miss you and I miss my goblin bf and, ya know, Cannes 2021. Thank you for reading, I’m hopeful that I’ll be back more frequently in the coming weeks!

...

Adam Sackler had ascertained very quickly that he did not care for red carpets in the slightest. 

Given what he had found himself struggling through his late teens and seemingly all of his twenties, the relief of finally, finally, finally achieving some sort of steady stream of work and establishing himself as a serious actor provided relief that he could not be more grateful for. 

He liked being able to turn down the $800 a month from his grandmother and moving out of his apartment for good this time, trading up for some swanky new town house in upper Manhattan. He liked being able to afford to be choosy about what jobs he took and he liked that he was able to split his time between stage and screen. Hell, he’d even tried his hand at directing some dumb indie film that landed him right smack dab in the middle of Sundance.

Which is when he found out he hated red carpets.

He absolutely hated the insincerity of all of it — the rushed interviews, the posing for what seemed like hours on end for photographs that he’d probably never even see and he wasn’t allowed to smile for exactly like he’d want to. He hated answering the same questions over and over again and rubbing elbows with reporters from tabloids asking about off screen romances and making it blatantly clear to him that they weren’t interested in the art he had just helped create.

Along the way, maybe five red carpet events into his career, he met you. To his surprise, he didn’t meet you through a mutual friend or at a party or by yelling at you to stop taking food from open containers in the store he was working in. He met you because he accidentally took your coffee on a Wednesday morning before you could grab it and you promptly chased him down 45th street and cussed him out by using every single insult you could manage.

And that’s when things just clicked for him.

Everything fell into place after you came into his life and suddenly he felt even more fulfilled than he originally figured was even possible. He liked coming home to you after long days on set or at the theater. He liked bringing you to see different projects he was working on during production or bringing you to advanced screenings or dress rehearsals. Whenever he got a script, you were the first one he talked to about whether or not to even try for the role. He never wanted to object you to the horror that was a red carpet.

Not until now, anyway.

It was the first time that you had happened to be available for one and, yeah, he had invited you to all of the ones he had been to since you had been together but he didn’t necessarily want to take you. Of all of the things in his world that he wanted to show you, premiere events were the one thing he wanted to shelter you from. You knew about the drinking, the philandering of his early to mid twenties, the string of psycho ex girlfriends who he swore might show up at your shared doorstep at any given time to rip him a new one. Despite all of that shit, you’d some how managed to still like him, love him even. He didn’t want to chase you away with the bullshit that came with his career.

Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back?

You’d said yes without hesitation and his stomach dropped. He knew you never turned down an excuse to dress up, to impress him and make him feel proud of the fact that you were his girl, just his. So, on the night of the Tony Awards, he sat in the hotel room his manager had reserved for the two of you to get ready with the help of a team of aestheticians and hair dressers and tailors watching you twirl in what was probably the most expensive ball gown you would ever wear in childlike delight. Music of your choice played softly on someone’s phone and you could hardly stay still enough for the finishing touches that were being pushed into your face. You looked and felt like a million bucks and Adam knew that, but how was he supposed to enjoy it? He was too preoccupied with figuring out what he would do if you freaked out on him, threatened to leave him or some shit, after the circus act you were about to parade through in order to get to your final destination of the night.

“You look handsome.” You called from the chair you had been forced into, eyes opened wide for quick swipes of mascara.

Adam was so far gone, lost in his thoughts and strapped with worry. He didn’t hear you compliment him. He didn’t see you get up and he felt as though the force of you slotting yourself between his slightly parted legs was a ghost of a touch. “Hey, doll.” He mumbled when he finally did notice you.

One of your eyebrows quirked up. “You good, Adam?” 

He sensed some wavering in your voices, maybe some concern. Maybe some doubt? “I’m okay, just hate this shit.”

The other eyebrow followed the first. “What do you mean you hate this shit?” You ask as his publicist swept into the room and began to shoo the two of you out the door and down to stand for pictures and questions. 

He held your hand tightly as you weaved down the hall and into the elevator. “I just don’t like this part.” He shrugged and you squeeze his hand as you listen. “Worried it’ll bug you as much as it bugs me.”

“I mean, I’d walk over hot coals to see you in a tux.” You teased, eyes bright. When he doesn’t shoot back with a response characteristic of his normally playful bravado, some of that brightness leaves your expression. “You know I’m just happy to be with you, right? I’m proud of you.”

Adam hummed in response and squeezed your hand back. “I know.”

You weren’t having his clipped answers. “I don’t care that there are going to be pictures or tons of people watching. You know that shit won’t make me think differently of you.”

He remained quiet after giving you another shrug, still completely scared out of his mind that your words were just that, words. That you’d hit the ground running and never look back as soon as you realized just what supporting him at these things entailed.

The silence lasted for the rest of the elevator ride, through the lobby, and in the limousine and in the little holding room they put you in that is riddled with all of the snacks he would tease you for indulging in had the circumstances been different. He was tense, his muscles tight, tight, tight from his jaw to his calves, knee bouncing and free hand clenching and unclenching right until the moment his name was called. 

The moment wasn’t awful to begin with. It’s mostly pausing and stopping a lot of times for Adam to take pictures while you watch from the sidelines and, every so often, he pulls you in for a few. He doesn’t tell you that, in the moments he doesn’t have his arm around you, that isn’t kissing your cheek chastely and holding your hand, that he feels like he’s drowning. 

It didn’t phase you as you listened to reporters hound him about his female costar and whether or not they were seeing each other. It really didn’t even phase you when one man asked you to “step aside” and referred to you as Adam’s friend, despite his tight grip on your waist and the tender glances his stole every twenty seconds or so. And honestly, you didn’t really care that you might have gotten jostled up a little bit by photographers and other reporters as you stepped aside, more than happy to speed up the process for Adam.

But Adam would not have that, not at all.

“We’re fuckin’ done.” Adam growled, his eyes locking on your face as soon as he noticed you stumble a bit. He left without another word to any of the reporters and looked for his publicist, who was beyond livid at the fact that Adam was blowing off his responsibilities without much of an explanation. Before he went up to him, he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him, not saying another word.

After a hushed but tense back and forth between the two men, the three of you stepped out of the view of the public and quickly found one of the many green rooms for invited guests to cool down and touch up hair and make up before heading into the venue. 

He paced and paced and paced for a long moment, leaving you to sit on the couch and watch with bated breath, praying that his older destructive tendencies didn’t suddenly find their way back to the surface of his psyche. 

After a long while, you finally spoke. “Can you come here?” You whispered, eyes round and, to be frank, a bit desperate. 

Adam came to you without a moment’s hesitation and knelt in front of you, placing his head in your lap and putting your hands in his hair. “Are you going to leave me tonight?” He mumbled into the tulle of your dress.

A soft smile crossed your lips and you shook your head, then moved to cup his cheeks and lift his face up to look at your own. “Now why would I even consider doing that?” You hummed. 

“After that shit show? Any sane person would leave.”

“Whoever said I was sane? Isn’t that why you like me?” 

He chuckled at that and nodded, biting back a comment about how anyone would have to be insane to want to stay with him for as long as you had. “That was just some totally bullshit and you know it, doll.”

You shrugged and shook your head once more. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had my fair share of total bullshit with old haunts showing up on our doorstep, huh?” You made sure to keep your tone teasing, not wanting him to feel as though he needed to shoulder any of the blame for the situation.

Adam laughed again and relaxed visibly for the first time all night. “Do you want to even stay?” He asked, his own voice a bit more reassured. 

“Of course I want to stay, you’re up for an award, dummy.” You giggle, letting your head fall back as he moved up to pepper your exposed neck with kisses and playful bites. “And there’s the after party — I heard there’s going to be some damn good desserts and music.”

He flashed you a smirk when he pulled back and stood, then offered his hand to you. “What is it you always say when I ask to eat out on the way home from shit?” He proposed.

You stood and took his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing before walking toward the door. “What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Adam’s smirk only widened as he held the door open for you and smacked your ass before letting you go. “We have dessert at home.”

[sukiglycerin]

13 minutes || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero (therefore aged up)!katsuki bakugou x fem manager!reader

* genre: pro-hero!au, smut, this is the longest warning section i’ve ever written, mainly pwp, fluff at the end :>

* words: 2,266 of all this fiLTH

* warnings: AGED UP KATSUKI, ugh tumblr deleted my super long tags so now i must redo them, this is very long & filthy, whew let's go, dom!katsuki, sub!reader, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, office sex, reader is bent over the desk ofc, master/sir kink, a little pet play (he calls reader pet/kitten), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, breast/nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm denial (how contradicting), cunnilingus (f receiving), cum eating (both ends), talks of safeword/colour system but no actual usage, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!!), creampie, reader is kinda masochistic, pussy slapping, crying sex (no angst here tho), hair-pulling (m receiving if it matters), implied subspace, aftercare !! the best part !!

* a/n: so tumblr messed up sO much while i tried to post this, so i hope you like this! ty @toishi for sticking with me and all of my ramblings while writing this! (and ofc @dylanxmin for her lovely support!!) this is a VERY spicy thing, and almost had actual plot before i cut it out. if you like this, i may do a fluffier pt 2!! enjoy!

being a pro-hero's manager has its perks. the pay's good, the coworkers are pleasant, and travelling is pretty fun. to you, the best part is that you get to see your boyfriend of three years every day.

you've been dating pro-hero ground zero secretly, and you happen to be his manager. honestly, the latter came first in chronological order, but that doesn't matter anyway.

you first encountered ground zero (or as he was called back then, katsuki bakugou) during your time in the business course at ua. he bumped into you quite ungracefully, cursed at you, pushed past you, then let a startled but apologetic kirishima to apologize. it was fate, in kirishima's words. 

such fate led you to manage ground zero five years ago, after slowly climbing your way up from managing smaller heroes to finally reaching the popular ones. bakugou had been the only popular hero with a manager opening; you learned why soon after being hired.

the spiky haired hero had a short fuse and a tendency to cuss. he was picky, indecent, and often reckless with his public image; the calmest you'd ever seen him was when he blew up villains and screaming "die."

however, things change - things change a lot. five years later, you're here: katsuki mumbling sweet things into the crook of your neck as his hands tease the waistband of your pencil skirt.

"katsuki, we can't- you have a meeting in fift- hng-!"

his lips find yours quickly, effectively quieting you down. you're sitting on katsuki's desk - a polished cherry wood thing that took too many weeks to find - as he towers above you, pinning you to your spot.

katsuki pauses, and pulls back, licking his lips. "sounds like a you problem."

"we really can't, this meeting is really important-" bakugou's fingers nimbly find their way under your skirt, deadly close to your panties. he really isn’t paying attention to you.

"and i'm the star of the show, the number one pro-hero-" if he hears you mutter 'that's midoriya,' he ignores you and continues, "-aren't i the most important one here?" his fingers rub your clothed clit, smirking at your audible gasp.

"k-katsuki, no-" you know he can feel the wet patch growing on your panties; from the way his determined eyes lock on yours, you know he won't be finished until you are too.

"how long do we have now, love?”

"thirteen minutes, but-"

"you're going to cum for me three times in the thirteen minutes we have."

it's not a question; it's a fact. you are going to cum three times in the next fifteen minutes.

“once on my fingers,” he puts a finger up, “once on my tongue,” another finger, “and once on my cock. the only thing you have to worry your pretty head about-“ he leans in close to your ear, voice dropping a couple octaves, “-is keeping quiet enough.”

his fingers push your panties to the side with ease and play teasingly with your wet folds. he circles your clit with his middle finger slowly, dragging out each languid movement with a smirk on his face. you flush at the lewd, wet noises he elicits from your pussy. you know that his fingers are coated in your arousal.

you look down in embarrassment, gripping the edge of the desk, and stare at the cotton material of your pencil skirt.

"slut." the word is spat from katsuki's mouth. his hand holds your chin; his touch barely ghosts your skin, but the command still exudes dominance. he tips his hand up, so you're looking into his intense eyes.

"look at me, slut." the word is emphasized by the plunging of three fingers in your wet core. you whine, unprepared by the sudden intrusion. your legs move uncomfortably against the fabric of your skirt, which restricts you from spreading open your legs wider. you want to clamp down on katsuki's hand, but you know that that won't end well.

"patience, kitten." either by intuition or his own frustration, he speaks up gruffly. "all in due time." his thumb starts to knead your aching bud as he thrusts in and out, knuckle deep in your pussy. glancing at the clock, he grows impatient, quickly attempting to unbutton your blouse before ripping off the rest entirely. you'd normally protest - you liked that blouse - but you find yourself falling short of words at the pressure on your pussy. katsuki goes at a more rigorous pace, thrusting fast and deep while his free hand snakes itself under your bra to play with your nipple. the added stimulation has you keening to his touch, suddenly aware of his every touch. he pulls your bra cup down, freeing your breast and bending down to to encapsulate the hardened bud in his mouth. his tongue circles your areola and flicks your nipple; meanwhile, his pace on your pussy hasn't relented. 

soon, you feel the telltale feelings of pleasure bubbling through your body.  you tense against him, gasping out his name and clawing at his back. your knees buckle as your climax washes over you, making your body go limp in his hand. bakugou lets go of your nipple with a popping noise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his other hand pulls out, and he outstretches three cum-soaked fingers to you, an unspoken code for "suck." you open your mouth obediently, sucking your salty juices off his slim digits. 

"fuck," he cusses, eyes blown out wide in lust. "so fuckin' obedient for me, hm? such a fuckin' whore for your master."

you let go of the fingers in your mouth and nod. 

his non-wet fingers grip the bottom of your skirt. "off. now." 

"yes, master." you feel his eyes pierce you, watching you unzip your skirt and panties and let them pool around your legs. he holds you steady as you step out of the garments and toss them to the side. 

"sit up." he taps the desk lightly.

"it'll get w-w-" 

"did i stutter?"

"n-no, master."

he hums while you acquaint your bottom with the cold, hard wood of his desk.

"colour system, love?" his voice gets soft and he breaks the hard persona. his eyes are gentle, searching yours for any speck nervousness or hesitancy.

"green for 'i'm good, keep going,' yellow for 'slow down,' and red for 'stop.'"

"and if you can't speak?"

"three taps for red, two for yellow."

"what's your colour right now?"

"green, master."

his face hardens at the title. "always a good pet for me, aren't you?"

you nod. "yessir."

he spares another glance at the clock on the wall. "you're going to be a fucking good slut for master in the next 7 minutes, understand?"

"y-yessir."

"what was that, pet?"

"yessir."

"better be. spread." his fingers gesture to your legs.

he kneels before you, your drenched core spread out and on display for him at eye-level.

"so wet," he marvels, making your face heat up. like this, you're completely exposed to him; your breasts free from your bra, nipples hard against the cool air, and your pussy glistening under the light of his office.

he licks a long stripe up your folds, testing the waters. by now, the original intensity of your previous orgasm had worn off; despite this, when his tongue met your clit, you found yourself reaching for his hair, gripping it tightly. he groans into your pussy, poking his appendage through your folds and administrating kitten licks up and down your inner lips to slurp up whatever juices were left. the teasing doesn't last for long, however. he starts to suck harshly on your clit, making you buck into his face in overstimulation and surprise. you cry out at his unceasing ministrations, tugging on his hair and your toes curling. the overstimulation is too much; pain mixed with white hot pleasure blinds you. the lips closed against your clit go hard; you're not even sure how katsuki can breathe going at such a pace. the pain starts to blend into pure pleasure. you throw your arm over your mouth in attempt to stifle your noises, eyes shut tight. you feel tears line your eyes as you cum again, katsuki's tongue pressed flat against your pussy. the pleasure is five times more intense now; you cry out, sure anyone standing outside heard, and clutch katsuki's hair as you recover from your orgasm. your pussy convulses violently, and you pant in a similar manner.

"k-katsuki- master- i-" you breathe hard.

"one more for me, okay?" he rasps into your ear. "i know you can take it, kitten. so good for me..." his chin and lips shine with your essence.

you nod, spreading your sore legs further apart.

"colour?" he checks, hands starting to reach for his belt.

"green."

he nods and unbuckles, pulling his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock. katsuki leans in, hot breath fanning against you as he peppers kisses on your clavicle.

"you're gonna be a good cocksleeve for master, yeah? gonna be all fuckin' tight and wet for me?"

you whimper a shaky "yes," the head of his cock nudging your folds.

he eases his full length into you, the stretch always being something you always need to get used to. katsuki's not particularly girthy, but for what he lacks in girth he makes up in sheer length. he pushes in gently; it's clear on his face he wants nothing more than to ravage you, but he understands your needs.

"f-fuck," you gasps as he bottoms out. 

"ring ring ring," the tone of katsuki's phone rings through the room.

you lean over the desk, reading the caller id.

"it's horikoshi corp?" you say to katsuki.

"pick it up." there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but there's no time to dwell on it before you pick up the call.

"is this the office of ground zero?" a male voice asks through the line.

"yessir-" katsuki starts moving inside you, to which you bite your lip. "h-how can i help you?"

"this is regarding the meeting scheduled for today?"

"y-yes?" you gasp, flinging a hand over your mouth as bakugou starts thrusting into your core roughly.

"i'm terribly sorry to say this, but it appears that our boss has come down with food poisoning from lunch."

"don't- don't worry about it-" your knuckles are white gripping the edge of the desk, and you're slightly bent over it.

katsuki continues to hammer into you, speed increasing quickly.

"could we reschedule to friday, at 1:30pm?"

your mind skims through katsuki's friday schedule. "u-um... y-yes-! that can be arranged..." you're not sure if he can hear the wet slapping noises coming from your end of the line - but the thought of him knowing your dirty deeds with katsuki made you even wetter.

"alright, thank you!" the man sounds relieved. "goodbye."

"bye!" you half slam the phone down on the receiver, chest heaving.

"it's your lucky day, huh, kitten?" katsuki purrs smoothly. 

you nod, pressing yourself onto his desk so you're bent over it for him.

"such a fucking slut," you can hear the pride in his voice. "you like that, yeah? i can feel you clenching all around me. you're my fuckin' cockslut, right?"

your head bobs rapidly up and down. "yes, master- i'm-" you feel the familiar heat start to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growls in your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

he presses you even harder into the desk, your breasts pushed up against the cold wood. 

"k-katsuki...!”

"my little pain slut, isn't that right?" 

"y-yes-! f-fuck, master-" 

he slaps your clit, making a loud, wet sound resound through the room.

it almost sends you over the edge. almost.

"don't- cum-" katsuki grunts in between thrusts.

you're so close it almost hurts. the pleasure overwhelms you; you shut your eyes tight to distract yourself, but you can only hear the sound of katsuki's heavy breaths and his cock slamming into you.

"katsuki- master- please, i can't-" tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. the pleasure is just too much, beating into you incessantly.

"you can, and you will," he orders, voice firm.

"k-ka- ka-" you blubber, tears dropping from your cheeks. you know you won't be able to hold it much longer; your pussy aches in need of release. "pl- pl, ka-"

"cum." it was the only word you needed to find yourself toppling off the edge, euphoria rippling over you violently.  tears stream down your cheeks, cum gushing from your heat. you're as limp as a doll in katsuki's arms, slumped against his desk. your pussy throbs, contracting violently - somewhere amidst your orgasm, katsuki had finished as well. your cheeks are wet, blouse thrown somewhere on the ground. your breathing is shaky as katsuki picks you up, stroking your hair delicately.

"hey, honey," he kisses your forehead softly.

you mumble incoherently, eyes drooping shut.

"you did so well for me... i didn't hurt you, did i?"

"no, 'suki.... 's good.... i liked it a lot..." you nuzzle into him, his body warmth comforting. katsuki smells of vanilla and caramel, a sweet combination that feels undeniably like home. 

you don't remember many of the next events well; everything blurs into a haze. you feel him gently thumbing your tears away, slipping your skirt and panties on and buttoning up one of his extra dress shirts on you.

the last thing you hear is a gentle "i love you," and before you know it, you're drifting asleep.

[rivers-rambles21]

The one where Y/n’s a tease

Part 4 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from  a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different  point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cockwarming (later chapters)

Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters

Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

I now realise the general theme is Y/n not being able to find her keys.

Whoever invented sundresses either needed a medal or slap. Bucky was in agony. The city was in the middle of a heat wave and neither of you could get comfy. You’d taken to dressing in sundresses every day, the soft fabric having a tendency to rise higher and higher up your legs throughout the day. There was something about the way they hung on every curve, how they framed your chest and revealed inch upon inch of tanned skin. 

You’d met one another in Central Park, intending on grabbing an ice cream and relaxing in the sun after a challenging day at work.

“He’s such a dick, I can’t see how they can make it compulsory to attend but won’t pay over time!”

Bucky merely nodded in response; he’d quickly learnt you’d rather he listen to your rants than fix your issues. 

“If I could change jobs I’d do it in a heartbeat” You continued as you reached the front of the icecream queue. 

“Hi, one strawberry and one mint choc chip please - oh and make the mint one two scoops” Bucky dug around in his back pocket before pulling out his wallet, handing over a few bills to the server. “Thank you.” He took both cones and handed you your favourite. 

“I’ll get the next one” You promised. Without thinking, you took a long lick of your icecream, moaning as the coldness hit your tongue. 

Bucky choked. 

“C’mon lets get somewhere cooler, you look hot” Your eyes bugged out as you realised what you’d said. “I mean you look warm! With your long sleeves and gloves!” You were quick to correct yourself which earnt a chuckle from the man besides you.

It didn’t take long for you both to reach a quiet vacant area which offered a gratuitous amount of privacy. Dropping down onto the grass, you stretched your legs out as you continued eating your icecream. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked, holding out his cone. You took it from him as he peeled his gloves off, sighing as the gentle breeze hit his fingers. He then began trying to roll up the sleeves on his henley, grunting in frustration as it got caught on his forearm. 

You glanced around double checking there was no one in sight before offering a solution. “You could just take it off, would do your skin some good, getting a bit of colour” 

Taking another lick of your icecream you attempted to look indifferent on the matter. 

Bucky took a hold of the bottom of his shirt before pausing. 

“What’s up?” You asked, taking another bite from your ice cream. 

“The scar isn’t the prettiest to look at.” He confessed, his head bowed in embarrassment. 

Your elbow jutted out and nudged him, forcing him to look back at you “Hey… it’s only me” You smiled back at him, trying to reassure him how little you cared about the scar.

He smiled back before taking the plunge and lifted the shirt over his head. You tried, you really did but you couldn’t help but stare at his chest. To say he was ripped would be an understatement. You weren’t overly bothered when it came to body types but fuckkk his was doing something to you. 

Snapping yourself out of your trance you noticed how his shoulders hunched over, as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“Trust me when I say this Buck, no one will be looking at your scar.” You laughed, fanning yourself in an attempt to boost his confidence and take the edge off. 

He chuckled in response and visibly relaxed, the pink in his cheeks growing from not only the heat. 

You handed him his ice-cream back and returned to your earlier conversation. Your prick of a boss had reiterated today how important it was you attended the charity gala that night, some bullshit about being a team player. 

In the midst of yet another rant, Bucky hadn’t been able to take your eyes off you. You looked radiant in the sun, a single bead of sweat every now and again trailed from your neck, down into the valley of your breasts. It took all his self discipline to not reach over and have a taste. And then there was the damned ice cream. He shouldn’t have ordered you two scoops as you took your sweet time licking and sucking on it, completely oblivious to the show you were putting on for him. What he’d do to replace that ice-cream with - no he couldn’t let his mind wander there. He felt his cock twitch as he watched you swallow the cream, your throat bobbing with the motion. 

“I reckon if I implement the Jim Halbert approach I’ll be home by ten” 

“The what now?”

“Jim? From The Office?” 

“You’ve lost me doll. I don’t remember you mentioning Jim before? Is he in Legal?”

“It’s a TV show, he basically said you should have a memorable moment with the host and take a photo to prove you were there. Once that’s done you can leave without it being questioned.” You handed Bucky your empty cone without question, it had become somewhat of a habit. You ordered two scoops and he finished off your cone. 

He took it from you and finished it in a couple of bites. 

“Well if you make it through and get home early enough I’ll order us some pizza and we’ll spend the rest of the night watching The Office, deal?”

“Deal”

_______________________________________________

You made it back in record time. You laughed, even danced with a few people, took a couple of photos and was there for when your boss got slapped by one of the waiting staff much to your delight. In and out in under 2 hours! 

“Hey Buck! Have you ordered yet?” You yelled as you knocked on his apartment door, looking for your keys with your other hand. “C’mon where are you” You muttered.

Bucky's door swung open and was instantly stunned at your appearance. He hadn’t seen you before you left for the evening and he was glad he hadn’t as he was sure he would’ve crossed a line. Your dress was strapless and fell to the floor, hugging every curve you had. The black velvet looked soft to touch and flattered your chest.

“Wow” 

Your head snapped up and looked back at the man in front of you. His eyes trailed up from your legs, over your stomach and to your chest before meeting your eyes. 

“How do I scrub up?” You joked, giving him a twirl. 

“Beautiful doll” Your cheeks flushed at his compliment and you looked back into your purse, struggling to locate your keys. 

“Can I come in?” 

He stepped to the side and gestured you in. Once in his kitchen you turned your purse upside down, realising your worst fear. “Oh god, this can’t be happening.” 

“Whats up?” Bucky decided to torture himself and stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I’ve left my key in my apartment” Not realising how close he was, you leant forward, your head falling into your hands as your elbows rested on the counter. Unintentionally, your ass had stuck out, pressing back into Bucky's crotch. The super soldier couldn’t believe his eyes, it was as though the very fantasy he’d played out in his head countless times was finally coming true. From this angle he couldn't help but imagine gripping your hair as he pounded into your tight pussy, filling his apartment with your screams as you milked his cock for all its worth. 

Before he could get away from himself he took a step backwards, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him not to. 

He wasn’t the only one affected as butterflies exploded in your stomach, your core aching with the possibilities of what lied beneath his jeans. But, before you had a moment to enjoy it, the moment was over and Bucky, ever the gentleman, had stepped aside. 

“I’ll call the super” You grumbled. 

“I’ll order the pizza” He replied all too quickly.

20 minutes later and you were at your wits end. It took forever to get through to the super and when you eventually did, you were hardly reassured by his response. He’d advised he would try and get to you within the next two hours but he wasn’t making any promises - so much for looking after your tenants. 

“Am I okay to hang out here with you until he arrives?” 

Bucky simply raised his eyebrow, finding it amusing you’d even have to ask. 

“Thanks Buck” Lifting your hands to your hair, you started removing the pins, letting your head relax. Whilst putting your hair down you couldn't hide your discomfort in your dress as it restricted your movement. 

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?”

“That would be amazing” 

You watched as he went off into his bedroom - could you even call it that considering there wasn’t a bed? You sighed in relief as you ran your fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, welcoming the relief.

“I’ve left them in the bathroom for you” 

“Thanks Buck” You flicked your heels off your tired feet before padding into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you. It didn’t take long for you to change into the sleep shorts and t-shirt he’d given you. Using your hair tie, you tightened the pants to stop them from falling down. Rolling your bra into your dress, you returned from the bathroom feeling far better than you did when you entered. 

“Better?” He asked, pizza box in hand as he pulled two plates from the cupboard

“Much” You replied, sitting down on one of the dining chairs. 

An hour later and you were both stuffed and the effect of the beers you’d been stealing from Buckys fridge were starting to have an effect. 

“C’monnnn it will be fun!” You whined as you tried your best to tuck your toes under Buckys leg in an attempt to warm them up.

With a sigh he lifted your feet from under him and stood from his seated position, heading back towards his bedroom. Returning a moment later, he resumed his original position and started slowly slipping socks onto your cold toes. 

“I’m waiting doll” 

His voice snapped you out of your trance - you’d been watching his every movement, how he gently cradled your feet as he slid a sock onto each one before squeezing them gently.

“Okay, I’m going to fire these over to you quickly so just respond with whatever comes to mind okay?” 

He nodded in response.

You scrolled through the list on your phone before settling on a set of questions.

“Favourite snack?”

“Cashews”

“Favourite Avenger?”

“Cap”

“Least favourite Avenger?”

“Hawkeye”

“Huh wow didn’t - anyway! Age you had your first kiss?”

“12”

“Age you lost your virginity?”

“17”

“Favourite place?”

“Wakanda”

“Any secret talents?”

“I can play the piano”

“Really?”

Bucky nodded in response, taking another swig of his beer.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats”

“Favourite neighbour?”

“Y/N” 

You smiled at that one before becoming a little bit braver. 

“Favourite position” You asked, mumbling your words as you quickly took a sip of your drink. 

“What was that?”

“Favourite...position” You repeated, meeting his eyes.

Bucky gulped, his eyes not moving from yours. “Cow girl when I’m generous, missionary when I’m in control” 

You blinked a couple of times, your mind racing as you processed his words. 

“Good..too...uh… know” You gulped before racing to the next question, trying your best to not think about just what he meant by generous and in control. “City or country?”

“Country” 

“Bike or car?” 

Before he could respond your phone chirped, signalling a notification. Glancing down, you read the message - Won’t be able to make it tonight, will try and get there in the morning

“Fuck.” You muttered, clearing the notification from your screen. 

“What’s up?”

“I won’t be getting into my apartment until tomorrow, do you mind if I stay here?” 

Bucky looked towards his bedroom, his heart sinking when he remembered he didn’t have a bed. Reading his expression, you began “The floor is fine, I don’t mind-” 

“No” he replied, cutting you off. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Bucky thought it was bad enough you had to hang out in his sorry excuse for an apartment but hell would freeze over before he allowed you to sleep on the hard floor. “I’ve got an idea.” 

You watched as Bucky opened his door and walked out into the hallway. He started fiddling with the window which filled the back wall between your two apartments; the lock snapping under his strength. Lifting it up, he swung his leg over the ledge, landing on the fire escape. 

“Buck, what are you doing?” You whispered, conscious of your neighbours and the late hour. 

He took a step backwards and leant down, his face visible through the window as he stared at you, his eyebrow raised slightly as though he was wondering if you really just asked that. 

“Just… be careful okay?” 

He nodded in response and went back to the task at hand. 

A few seconds later you heard another snap and the sound of your window opening. Moments later your apartment door swung open with a smug Bucky on the other side. 

“My hero” You beamed up at him, your appreciation evident on your face. 

You quickly went back into his apartment, gathering your things in your arms. 

“I’ve wedged the window shut so you’re safe for the night, I’ll get you a replacement lock in the morning.” 

Returning to your apartment, you dumped your belongings on the side table, turning back to Bucky. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You confessed, overcome with admiration. Before you lost your nerve, you pressed your body against his, your arms looping around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You held in a sigh as you felt his arms respond and wrap around your waist, returning your embrace. Rather reluctantly, you pulled back as did Bucky, his arms returning back to his sides. 

“Goodnight doll” 

“Night Bucky” 

You slowly closed your door and smiled to yourself. Tugging his sleep pants down your legs, you folded them up and left them on top of your discarded dress. After completing your nightly routine, you sank into your soft bed sheets, inhaling Bucky’s scent left behind on his tshirt, silently wishing it was himself wrapped around your naked body and not his top. 

[spencers-renaissance]

let him be soft (and let him be mine) p2

Summary: After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel

or; Derek's self-sacrificing tendencies meet Spencer's abandonment issues. It gets messy before it gets better

Tags: hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

TW: abadonment issues, allusions to grief/loss, some religious imagery (a catholic church and a priest have a small role in the plot)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k Total Word Count: 4.5k

Part One // Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Emily's Edit 1 2 3

Emily (@criminalmindsvibez) and I have worked together on a project based on this poem. Her edits and my fic go hand in hand, so go and check hers out! She posted part two yesterday and just posted part three! It's been so fun to work together, so please go and reblog her beautiful edit <3

Spencer smiles, feeling a little bit lighter after getting everything off his chest. “Thank you.”

As he watches the priest walk out of the nave and into what Spencer suspects is the Sanctuary, he hears something that simultaneously warms his heart and twists his stomach in anxiety.

Derek, calling his name.

“Oh, God,” Derek cries as soon as he’s rushed over to sit next to Spencer, wrapping him up in a tight hug, “baby, I was so worried. I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt and let you come back to me but I just couldn’t do it. I had to get Pen to track your phone in the end.”

“I’m sorry, Der,” Spencer says, pulling away and blinking tearily at the anxiety mixed with relief written across his boyfriend’s face. Guilt floods his stomach as he thinks about the terror he’s just put Derek through: the exact same feeling he’s been lamenting over Derek inflicting upon him. How is he any better? If anything, he’s only worse; Derek does what he does to serve others, Spencer’s been nothing but selfish all evening.

“No, baby,” Derek protests, lifting a hand to his face and brushing away a falling tear, “you don’t need to apologise, just… talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Spencer doesn’t waste any time in agreeing. It’s the least his boyfriend deserves. “Can we go home? I want to eat that Thai food in bed while I tell you. I’ve already cried one too many times in a church for the day”

Derek chuckles at that. “Of course, pretty boy. Come on. Let’s get you home.” He takes Spencer’s hand gently and leads him towards the exit, and when Spencer turns back briefly before walking out of the building, he doesn’t miss the smiling priest lingering near the altar.

⭐️

Derek doesn’t let go of his hand the whole drive home, clinging tightly even on the elevator up to their apartment, and it only serves to make Spencer feel guiltier. How had this not clicked earlier? He never stopped to think about the worry his boyfriend was going through back home, only prioritising himself and his own selfish feelings.

He starts to wonder whether he should actually tell Derek after all. His boyfriend is so endlessly kind and selfless and wonderful and Spencer wants to point out his one flaw? After he’s left him panicked and concerned for his well being all evening?

He anxiously gnaws on his bottom lip as Derek tucks him into bed, seemingly oblivious to his distress as he kisses his head gently before making light work of reheating the take out he’d ordered earlier. Spencer’s stomach spins and turns with anxiety as he burrows himself under the covers, desperate to hide from all that’s to come, unable to escape the helter-skelter of emotions consuming his mind.

Soon enough, Derek makes his way into the bedroom, turning off the main light in favour of their various cosy lamps and flicks on the TV, setting it on reruns of Fawlty Towers with the volume turned down before arranging the takeout on trays before finally slipping under the duvet himself.

“Baby, I know that for whatever reason you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on,” Derek says softly, turning Spencer’s chin to face him and gazing imploringly into his eyes, “that poor lip of yours will be bitten off by the morning. But I want you to know you can trust me with whatever this is. I promise that there is no problem, no issue, no stressor that we couldn’t overcome together. Me and you, we’re a dream team, aren’t we? We can solve this, but not if you’re not completely honest with me.”

Damn it, now Spencer’s going to feel guilty no matter what path he chooses. He either lies and breaks Derek’s trust, or he tells the truth and breaks his heart.

But the priest’s words from earlier flash through his mind, and he takes a deep breath, knowing what he has to do. “I’m scared,” he admits, tentatively. It feels like a good place to start.

“Okay,” Derek replies soothingly, eyebrows knitted in concern as his thumb traces the side of Spencer’s face. “What are you scared of, Spence?”

“I’m scared… I’m scared of losing you,” he whispers, casting his eyes downward.

He feels Derek tense next to him, but he doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s confused or something worse. “Baby boy, you have to understand that you’re it for me, I’m never going anywhere—”

“No,” Spencer interrupts, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes again, “not like that. I know you love me, I’ve never doubted that for a second. I’m scared of losing you to something worse than another person. I’m scared of losing you to a gunshot, a stab wound, a bomb blast. I’m scared of losing you to the job, Derek.”

“Oh.” His thumb falters in its soothing movements against Spencer’s cheek before it retracts completely.

“You’re a hero, Der,” he says tearily, not bothering to try and fight them this time, “you’re an inspiration. You’re strong and powerful and the kindest, most selfless man I’ve ever met, but I— I’m gonna need you to start being a little more selfish.”

“I don’t… What do you mean?”

“Remember back in 2007 when that woman was trapped in her car with a bomb under her seat? You stayed right next to her the whole time, even though you knew that if that bomb went off, it was taking you with it. Because in that moment, looking after that woman was all that mattered.”

Derek nods hesitantly, his brows knit even tighter.

“Well, I could deal with that. I accepted it. We were newly in a relationship, and I knew the kind of man you were when I started dating you. I didn’t think you’d give that up for me so soon. But, Derek, it’s been seven years now. We’ve been together for almost a decade, and you’re still the same man. You run headlong into danger with no regard for how it will affect you. And I love your selflessness and generosity, I really do, but I need you to know how that makes me feel.

“It makes me feel like I’m not important to you, Der.”

“Oh, baby, no,” Derek says, distraught as he wraps Spencer in a tight, urgent hug, hand flying to run his fingers through his curls.

“But, no, it does, Derek. Because it feels like one of these days, you won’t be as lucky as you always have been, and I’ll be alone again. You’re all I have, and I can’t lose you, I just can’t.” The tears are joined by heaving, desperate sobs as he cries into Derek’s shoulder, both of them holding onto one another with clawing fingers, impossibly close as emotions fill the room.

When Spencer finally calms down enough, he pulls away to find Derek’s eyes red and his cheeks wet, too. “I— I had no idea you felt like this, baby boy,” he says earnestly, looking deeply into his eyes as his devastated emotions play across his open expression. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like you were anything less than the most important person in the whole world to me, because you are, Spencer.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers sadly. “You didn’t know.”

“No, but I do now. I never stopped to think how this was affecting you, and I’m so deeply sorry for that.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence as they fall against one another, both accepting that the Thai is going to go cold again and they’ll probably end up with a greasy 2am pizza instead.

“It’s because of my dad,” Derek admits eventually, breaking the silence. “When I watched him bleed out in front of me, I swore I would never let that happen to another person. I would never let another person die on my watch, not unless I was going down with them. And that was an easy principle to live by when I was a cop, it translated well to the FBI, and it worked great when I was single. But now… I have you. And you’re more important than a promise I made to myself when I was ten.

“The thing is, though, that I don’t know how to override an instinct that I’ve built and enforced for my entire career. Spencer, you’re everything to me, and you’re more important than this, but I… I don’t know how to change.”

Another tear slides down Spencer’s tired, puffy face at Derek’s words, mostly because they were exactly what he was expecting. The only reason he’s kept this to himself for so long is because he knew that no possible resolution could make this okay.

“It’s okay, Der,” he says sadly, “I get it—”

“I think I should leave the BAU.”

Spencer sits bolt upright at that, turning to his boyfriend with shock written in every line of his face. “What?”

“Listen, I’m 43. I’ve been on the job for twenty-one years, and I’m getting tired, Spencer. I was planning to bring this up at a much better moment, but I’ve just finished that house on the Mount Pleasant border, and I think we should move in there. I’m ready for a quieter life, Spencer. I want to do things that make me happy, focus on the future of our family, me, you, and Clooney — kids, too, if we decide that’s the way we want to go — and leave this life revolving around death and crime and the bad in the world behind.”

“You’re serious?” Spencer asks, completely in disbelief as he stares at Derek like he’s grown an extra head. This was never a possibility he considered. Not even a little bit.

“I am,” Derek promises. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and this just seals the deal, really. I don’t want you to be feeling this scared all the time, especially not if it’s set off even by a couple of bruised ribs. Diving in front of a bullet when wearing a vest is hardly the most dangerous thing I’ve done.”

Derek chuckles but Spencer just smiles sadly at just how true that statement is. “No, it isn’t.”

“I’d love to focus on the property business full time, renovate more houses and really make a career out of it. Build a proper business, live in the suburbs, be happy and safe and alive with the love of my life for as long as possible,” Derek says, eyes warm and serious as he brushes his hand against Spencer’s face again. “I’m so in love with you it hurts.”

Spencer’s heart melts and he presses into Derek’s side, burying in as close as he can get. The tears that leak from his eyes this time are at least happy ones. “If you leave,” he says, after considering it for a moment, “I think I want to leave, too.”

“Really? You don’t have to, Spencer. You can stay at the BAU if you want to.”

“I know. But I’ve given over a third of my life to this job, and it’s given me all it can, I think. Before Gideon recruited me, I always thought I’d end up teaching, and I always knew I’d love it. Researching and teaching others what I’ve found out for a living sounds like a dream, and the thought of coming home to you, knowing that you’re safe every night as we sit down for dinner and chat about our normal, civilian lives… well, it’s everything I didn’t know I’d been longing for.”

A kind of peace that Spencer hasn’t felt in years settles over his chest as he basks in the thought of a safe and happy future with Derek, one not plagued by the trauma they’ve faced willingly for far too vast proportions of their lives, and he knows it’s the right decision.

“Wow,” Derek says, and woven in with the shock in his voice is relief, clear as day, “we’re leaving the BAU.”

“We’re leaving the BAU.”

Spencer eventually packs the Thai away and orders an extra large pepperoni pizza for delivery, letting Derek rest in bed as he takes over the beavering around. Fawlty Towers continues to play across the TV screen throughout the course of the night, Spencer resting his head on the top of Derek’s chest, careful to avoid his injuries. In that moment, with his favourite TV show playing, and an empty pizza box on the floor of their bedroom, cuddled up safely with the man he knows he’s going to spend forever with, Spencer thanks a God he’s not sure he believes in that Derek, right now, is soft, happy, and most importantly, his.

Let him be soft, and let him be mine.

— Please, let him be happy.

If you haven't already - check out Emily's post, and give some love to the original poem source here!

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