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#pausing the birthday bash hours
kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months
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Do you think König would watch corn/look at or think about other women if together? Maybe if he was deployed for a long time? 😪
I just meant to answer this ask with a few sentences on how König gives up porn after meeting you but... things got out of hand (again)
CW: Um. Toxic König being shameless with pictures of you. Reader leaves a paused porn stream lying around to teach König a lesson (and suffers the consequences.) Dirty talk & fluffy smut.
Our toxic King has watched porn, yes. He actually had a crippling porn addiction during his late teenage years. He was a bit of a loner due to bullying, found the internet, and the rest is history (this giant’s hormones were through the roof.)
And you know how it is when there’s a lot of spare time in the army... Even now when he’s older and working for KorTac, there are moments of dullness and boredom at the base, moments when nothing else helps to relieve the tension and anxiety.
But... after he met you, König started to get this odd feeling everytime he opened the stream. He feels a bit dirty, almost like he’s…. cheating on you. He can’t quite bring himself to watch it, let alone enjoy it, and so he closes the tab and has a frustrated fap with no other stimulation but his thoughts.
He thinks about the last time you two met and especially the blowjob you gave him. It's actually even better, remembering how you kneeled in front of him, watching up with compliance and slight terror in your big, wet, shy eyes. You always have that look when you take him in... It's enough to make his cock wet even know.
He especially replays the moment when he came in your mouth and how demurely you swallowed every last drop, how bashful and happy you looked when he praised you about it right after. Of course he wants to make sure you do such things to him again, even if it is a bit cruel of him to have his lady on her knees. It sends a distant sting to his heart to remember how you took both the king-sized cock and the generous load in your warm little mouth... And it also sends him to another thigh-ripping, heart-pounding orgasm just to recall your helpless little whimpers and eager tries to please him.
At some point, he starts to use pictures of you as fapping material, whether it be pics you’ve sent him, pics he’s taken of you, pics on your social media… And you would think it’s your bikini pics this guy is after, but no. Mostly, it’s the decent pictures, the ones where you're smiling and looking at the camera with innocent, bright eyes, the ones where you're clearly having fun with a friend or smiling on the brink of happy tears while petting a kitten. Your old thirst trap selfies from a birthday party are his favourite porn from now on. He's been a fool, not realizing you had tons of pictures online... He could've treated himself to them before he even picked you flowers.
You of course have no idea that he’s doing dirty things like that. Neither do you know König has stopped watching porn because pictures of you being cute get him off just as well or even better than pornography.
But things get interesting when you find some old files on his computer. And who cares if you’re snooping around a little bit: König is always snooping around your stuff, the little – big – gremlin. To your shock, you find hours and hours of material, neatly organized into folders labeled in German. They’re from a time before streaming services were a thing, but still, you’re feeling so very hurt.
Annoyed, you want to give him a lesson and deliberately leave a tab open on your own laptop one day, knowing he will come home soon. It’s just to make him realize how it makes you feel that he watches porn (well, he hasn’t watched those videos since he was a young pup, but you don’t know that).
When König comes home, you act like you’re busy in the kitchen. The paused video of a cute girl getting some attention from two muscular men is waiting for him, still on the screen of your laptop left purposely sitting on the table, as if forgotten.
König is quite loud when he comes in, almost barges in, takes off his shoes as quickly as he can, gives you a pitched yell that he’s home… Your heart is hammering in your chest, the heavy footsteps announce that König is eager to see you, but they end in an abrupt silence when he's stopped by the sight of what’s on your screen.
One, two, three…
You count the seconds in your head before König storms in the kitchen.
To your anxious thrill, the uproar is even worse than you thought. He marches to you, visibly shocked, demanding to know what it is on your screen.
You’ve been watching two naked men while he's been away?
Why...? Why would you even want to watch something like that?? The material is nasty, this sweet girl looks like she's being bullied by two rather big men! He didn’t even know you watched… watched porn.
The argument is quite brief in the end. You throw the accusations right back at him, and he just blinks. It turns out König hasn’t watched porn since he met you (other than those few times during which he got oddly uncomfortable), and he hasn’t watched those old videos in over ten years.
He never answers your questions on why does he want to watch all those "sweet girls" being bullied by "dirty men". He simply marches to his computer and deletes everything while you watch and bite your lip in silence.
Then he goes to your laptop and sets all kinds of sites on block. Huffing and puffing as he does that, you can see how frustrated he is that you’ve watched other men and their cocks.
The rest of the evening König looks at you like he doesn’t even know you anymore, both intrigued and suspicious. You know you’ve insulted his tender masculine sensibilities. But come evening, he teases you about it in bed, asking if one big man is not enough for you. That he didn’t even know his girl was so naughty and needy.
Don't you know that his cock alone could break you? A sweet girl like you could never handle two men... let alone two big cocks.
König has never talked so dirty, and you’re left hot and sweaty and embarrassed, thinking how stupid it is that porn is ruining your already red flagged relationship while also giving you the hottest sex yet. How stupid it is, considering neither of you have even watched those videos in reality.
And it’s not enough for König to ban websites and ensure his "naughty girl" doesn't come across any disturbing material.
You now have to repay him by sending some cute pictures of you wearing nothing but your underwear. Actually, he would prefer it that you wore nothing but your smile.
You will send the pictures to him at certain times of the day when he’s away, no exceptions. He will give you further insturctions on the dates. And you better be smiling on those pictures – one of those smiles you have when you see a cute stray cat or when it's your birthday.
Oh, and by the way: you really should change your social media accounts to private. Any pervert could be going through your photos at any given time.
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Fringe Benefits
Part of my Birthday Bash!
Request: “you’re spending more time at my desk than at your own” for Roy
Roy Kent x Reader 0.7k words Warnings: Language
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“Well, well, well, what have we here?”
You turned around, smiling at Roy as he strolled into his office. He raised his thick eyebrows at you, nodding a greeting. You wondered if he could see the way your eyes flickered down his figure, checking him out, the way you could never resist doing when you saw him.
You’d been working at A.F.C. Richmond for about three months now, having been hired by Keeley Jones to manage their PR. It was a fun job and, if you were being honest, the sight of Roy Kent in those track pants was definitely a perk.
“Hey,” you hummed. “I was just leaving you a note.” You nodded at the sticky note you’d begun to write on before the sound of his growling voice interrupted you. “Got those concert tickets for you and Pheebs for Friday. But make sure you post on your Instagram, alright?” You gave his arm a playful smack. “Or I’m never doing you a favor ever again.”
A smile broke out across that handsome face. “Fuck, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.” He paused, gazing at you thoughtfully. “This is what, the third time today you’ve been down here?” He narrowed his playful eyes at you. “I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at your own. What, you using me to get your fucking steps in?”
You rolled your eyes. Okay, maybe your crush on Roy Kent was obvious to everyone at Nelson Road. Keeley teased you about it nonstop. The players, especially Jamie Tartt, often gave you sly, knowing smiles when they saw you make your familiar way to Roy’s office. Even little Phoebe had asked you if you were her Uncle Roy’s girlfriend when she met you at a Greyhounds match- a question she repeated every time you saw her, actually.
“Come on Kent, you know I just come visit you for the snacks.” To punctuate your point, you opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a sweet. With a wink, you popped the treat into your mouth.
Now Roy rolled his eyes at you as he approached you, standing a smidge too close, the way he’d been doing almost since the day you started working at Nelson Road. “And here I thought you came all the way down here for the pleasure of my company.”
Another sweet found its way into your mouth. “Ah, that’s just a fridge benefit, Coach.”
“Fringe benefit, eh?” Roy snorted, his cheeks tinging pink as he glanced down at the floor. Fuck, he looked adorable like this. How could a man look bashful and confident at once? And how could he look so damn good at the same time? “So, you’re basically using me to manage your sweets cravings, then?”
“Afraid so, Kent.”
He nodded as he glanced at you through his lashes. “Then maybe you let me buy you some kind of fruity drink after work today. For your cravings.” He smirked. “And the fridge benefit of my company.”
Could he see the way the color rushed to your cheeks? “O-oh. Yeah. That would be nice.” You took a step back towards the door, needing to run back to your office and call Keeley to squeal- and maybe ask her to come drop off a change of clothes. “I’ll see you after work then.” As you turned, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you suddenly felt, Roy cleared his throat.
“Oi.” You glanced over your shoulder, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his cocky grin. “And see if you can get one more ticket for that concert. You don’t have plans Friday, do you?”
Oh hell. If your smile got any bigger, your cheeks would probably crack. “I’m free,” you managed. “And I’d love to go to the concert with you guys.”
Roy nodded, looking nothing short of pleased. “Right. I should let you go back to your work, then.” His expression became teasing again. “I’m sure you’ll be back down here in an hour or so. I’ll have some snacks waiting for you.”
A giggle tumbled out of your mouth as you shook your head at Roy. “I’m sure you will.” With a little wave, you strolled away, already coming up with another excuse to come back downstairs to visit Roy Kent.
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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 months
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I need you now - Modern!Tommy Shelby Imagine
Part 3 of Before he cheats - Based off of I Need You Now by Lady Antebellum
Requested - kinda - @jadesjam sent this as an idea for part 2 but I flipped and made it the third and final part of before he cheats! It hasn't been proofread so beware!
Enjoy! 🥰
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"No." I sighed for the upteenth time.
"Oh come on y/n, it's been weeks since all that shit with Tommy, it's about time you come and find yourself a rebound!" My longest friend Leah practically begged down the phone, her birthday was coming up and she'd been trying for the last hour to get me to go out for her pre-birthday bash.
"Le, you know I love you but I'm really not in the mood tonight, we'll do something in a couple days, okay?" I sighed, trying to find some middle ground so the conversation could end.
"Okay fine, but I'll hold you to that! Love you girl!" She cheered happily through the phone, my answer enough to stop the pestering, for now.
"Have fun babe, love you too!" I smiled before hanging up, the smile dropping from my face as soon as the beep sounds. "Guess it's just you and me." I whispered as I looked down at the shoebox in my lap.
Checking the time I couldn't help but laugh slightly at how the time had managed to get away from me, with the clock reading 1:04am I couldn't help but laugh slightly as I looked over the piles of photographs that were covering the floor. "Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor, reaching for the phone cause I can't fight it anymore." I sighed, picking one up and focusing on the smiling faces beaming back at me, it was from my 21st birthday around ten minutes after Tommy had officially asked me to be his. We were so happy, everyone was so happy that night, laughing and singing being the only thing to be heard throughout Small Heath that night as everybody celebrated their king finding his queen.
Putting the picture down I reached up to wipe the line tear that has slid down my cheek, sniffing quietly before I picked up another, this one of me and all of the Shelby siblings, Ada and John on one side with Tommy and Arthur the other, even at 16 years old and apparently seeing Greta, Tommy still has his arm round my shoulders, my head resting on his arm. Throwing the picture to the side I huffed as I rubbed my hands over my face, the thought of Greta leading me down a rabbit hole.
"I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time." I spoke to myself, "Probably not, you've probably had a whole queue of women waiting for this to happen." My voice cracked as I said what I'd been thinking out loud for the first time. "Maybe I should just send a quick text..." I whispered, picking up my phone, opening Tommys contact I paused before starting to type.
It's 1am, I'm all alone and I need you now, I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now.
Shaking my head I quickly deleted the message and locked my phone, throwing it onto the floor besides me. "Don't give him the satisfaction." I reminded myself with a sigh.
The loud shrill of phone made me shriek, my hand flying to my chest to try and soothe my racing heart. "Motherfuck." I breathed out, reaching over and seeing it's Leah calling.
"Hey Le, what's up?" I asked worried, knowing that she never called when she was out, unless there was a problem.
"Baaaaabe! You'll never guess where we are!" Her cheery voice burst through the phone making me wince slightly. "The garrison!" She squealed without waiting for an answer.
"That's great Leah, but I'm still not coming out tonight." I sighed, not understanding where she was going with this.
"Yeah, yeah, -- all depressed, I know, but I also know that lover -- is just as bad as -- are, if -- worse." She laughed through the phone, the music and voices in the background muffling half of her sentence.
"I can't hear you properly Le." I smiled slightly, her giggles infectious. "Le?" The beep of the phone indicated that she'd hung up. "What the hell was that about?" I muttered, my question answered two seconds later as my phone buzzed again.
I said that lover boy is even worse than you!
A message from Leah with an image of Tommy attached, say at the corner of the bar in the Garrison alone, his head in his hand as his other holds onto a glass of whisky - probably. Just from the zoomed out picture I could see his hair had been left to grow out and his shirt had been left untucked, something that had never happened before, in public anyway.
"Oh baby." I couldn't help but sigh, my heart breaking all over again at the picture.
---
Keeping my eyes down I swigged the last dribble of amber liquid from the glass raising it high before rapping it in the bar a couple times, a sign for the bartender to refill. Feeling the glass being moved from my fingertips I looked up, giving the bartender a nod of thanks as he slid the bow full glass back to me.
Another shot of whisky, can't stop staring at the door, wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. Rubbing my hand over my face I clenched my eyes as I thought of her, the reason I'd been sat here for the past few weeks doing nothing but drinking whisky after whisky and chain smoking till my chest hurt. Looking over at her door I couldn't help but think back to y/n's 21st birthday, the day we became official, she had come barreling into the garrison with her windswept hair and rosy cheeks absolutely fuming because she thought that everyone had forgot her birthday before the shout of surprise had her forgetting she was ever mad. Shaking my head I couldn't help but wonder if I ever cross her mind, for me it happens all the time, every little thing reminding me of her.
"Fuck sake." I growled to myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. "Quarter past fucking one and I'm sat drinking by myself, again, Thomas Shelby the king of fucking Small Heath aye." I chuckled ironically. Not like I hadn't had plenty of offers during my evenings rotting away at my own bar, but none of them were her, none of them were my y/n.
My heart started to race slightly as I noticed the missed call notification only to drop again as Arthur's name came into view. She said she didn't want to hear from me but surely one text won't hurt, right?
It's 1:15 I'm a little drunk and I need you now, I said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now, and I don't know how I can do without - I just need you now
I'll be at the Garrison - T x
"Fucking pathetic Tom." I shook my head before locking the phone, not realising my thumb had already hit send.
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1:17, it had taken all of 3 minutes to reach the Garrison, shoving my hands into my pocket so said as I stared up at the gold sign above the door, a door that I'd walked through so may times before but never feeling like this. I jumped slightly as my phone buzzed at the same time as a group of girls can tumbling out the door, laughing and stumbling down the road as they held onto each other for support, I couldn't help but laugh slightly before pushing open the doors.
Stepping through the doorways Leah and the girls immediately caught my eye, giving me a quick wave she grinned before pointing over to the bar my eyes immediately landing on the mop top of black hair and slumped shoulders in the corner. Sending her a quick smile I slowly made my way over to Tommy, hesitantly taking a seat on the stool next to him.
"Not interested." He muttered making me jump slightly.
"Meh, I like your brother more anyway." I shrugged, giggling slightly as his head shot up, eyes wide as he stared at me.
"Y/n.." He breathed out, reaching his hand out he placed his palm on my cheek almost as though he was checking I was really there. "Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." He muttered, pulling me forwards slightly and resting his forehead against mine.
"Tommy I-" I took a breath, struggling to think clearly being this close to him after so much time, the longest we'd been apart since we'd met some ten years ago now. "I'm sorry too, I should've let you explain, should've listened to you." My voice wobbled slightly, pulling away I used my sleeve to wipe away the tears that had started to fall before resting my hand on his.
"I figured it would be easier to just finish things, after hearing about you and Gracie I just couldn't think of anything else... And I just lost it.. I dunno Tom. I guess I just, I guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all." I whispered, knowing that over the past few weeks that's exactly how I'd felt, nothing.
"Hey, don't you dare apologise, these past few weeks have been nothing but my fault, and I promise you y/n with everything I have and will ever have, I will spend every day of our future making it up to you. If you'll let me, just one last chance, please." He trailed off, his eyes on mine the whole time.
"One chance Tommy, that's all we have left." I whispered, my grip tightening around his wrist slightly.
"That's all I need." He smirked standing up and pulling me along with him, his arms wrapping around my waist and mine came up around his neck, playing with the longer hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling me in he placed his lips on mine, moving in sync I couldn't help but smile, the Tommy shaped hole in my heart slowly shrinking.
"I missed you so much." He mumbled after we pulled away, resting his chin on the the top of my head as he pulled me into a hug, completely ignoring the looks he was getting from the punters who had never even seen him smile before.
"I missed you too Tommy." I sighed happily, resting my head on his chest, sending a quick wink to Leah as she caught my eye, making her erupt into screams, much to the confusion of everyone else.
"So that's how you found me aye?" Tommy chuckled, the sound echoing through his chest.
"She helped yeah, but there was also the text you sent." I giggled slightly, as I head the faint 'shit' leave his lips. "It's okay Tommy, I love it when you're cheesy." I grinned, patting his chest as I looked up at him.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He chuckled as he shook his head. "I love you." He whispered, eyes locked onto mine.
"I love you too." I smiled, placing a quick peck to his lips before resting my head back against his chest. "Oh and Tom?" I muttered without looking up, only the slight hum letting me know he heard.
"I'm sorry about your car."
----
And there we have it! I know it's slightly shorter and I personally don't feel like this part is even nearly as good as the previous two, but hey, we move on!
Thank you for reading and I do hope you've enjoyed! 🥰❤️
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pompadourpink · 2 years
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Hi mom I'm going to spend three weeks in France in a few months and I was wondering what things I should know so I don't upset anyone lol thanks for all you do
Hello dear,
Exciting!
We are attached to politeness. Say hello when you start a conversation with anyone (including salespeople), enter any type of professional place (bakery, small store, waiting room) and to the bus driver. Walking up to a stranger and immediately asking a question is extremely rude and we will be rude back (which explains our reputation - tourists were unknowingly crass first).
When talking to strangers/salespeople: the right question is something like Bonjour (pause until they make eye contact and say it back), excusez-moi de vous déranger, je ne trouve pas le sucre/je cherche la rue Victor Hugo/---, est-ce que vous pouvez m'aider? (...). Merci beaucoup, bonne journée, au revoir.
If you don't speak French, learn how to pronounce Bonjour, excusez-moi de vous déranger, est-ce que vous parlez anglais? (and after a possible no: C'est pas grave, merci quand même, au revoir) so you don't look like a donkey.
Blend in. Don't be loud, respect people's space (and escalator/pavement laws), avoid intrusive questions, bashing the country + money talk. No PJs at the store. You are trying to befriend cats; "my way or the highway" is not going to work.
Use the right pronouns. Level 1: say Vous to any professional, older strangers (including people's relatives, who will say Tu back), and Tu to friends, their friends, any kid or teen. Level 2: most likely say Tu to people your age, unless their energy calls for something else. Level 3: say Tu in non-formal places (bar, tattoo parlour) regardless of age. Cheat code: avoid making a choice by saying things like Comment ça va? instead of Comment tu vas?
Random tourist advice:
In cafés/restaurants: we don't really tip, cooks aren't used to personalised orders, and waiters will leave you alone (no refills, small talk, pet names) unless you lift your hand, make eye contact and mouth "Excusez-moi". You can pay with cash or a debit card but I wouldn't recommend checks.
Other cities are fine but if you are using public transportation in Paris, take notes or download la RATP's app beforehand: you'll often need to take two or three subways to get somewhere and there is no info inside the station.
Travel light and pick trusty trainers, cobblestone doesn't like heels. Watch your step. Men pee outside a lot and people don't pick up dog poo.
Be aware of pickpockets. Zip your pockets, keep your bag on the side or the front, avoid flaunting luxury items or looking/dressing/acting like a professional tourist, and for the love of God, don't go to the Champs Elysées at night.
Catcalling and street harassment are unfortunately common. Feel free to hook up, condoms shouldn't be a problem but don't expect to find a husband, your typical French Tinder match isn't looking for love.
If you're into skincare, pharmacies are your wet dream.
If you want to travel, take a TGV (very fast train, to book preferably weeks to months before) to get to other cities in 1-5h. London via the Eurostar is 2h30 away and many capitals are a 2h cheap flight away. Going to Disneyland takes about an hour from downtown Paris to Marne-La-Vallée.
If you need medical assistance, call the 112 (European emergency number) or the 18 (fire brigade, good eggs) and the police, the 17 (take forever to answer).
At the moment, there's a weird thing happening in France where young people (mostly girls) get spiked with needles in nightclubs. Keep yourself safe.
Many museums are free/stores offer discounts if you're under 25 and you get a free ride on a bateau-mouche if your birthday is the same week.
Carry an umbrella and sunglasses regardless of the season.
More: restaurant guide, why won't the French let me practice my French, list of Parisian museums + Planétarium + movie theatres.
Hope this helps! x
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captaingrebelguf · 4 months
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Yule Tidings
Okey dokey, well I found myself with some time on my hands this weekend unexpectedly. So what else does a few glasses of wine lead to? 🍷
It leads to me slamming out a Christmas story for my ghestie, @copiousloverofcopia. Because she's a delight and she makes my life better. ❤️
🎄 Merry Ghristmas, girlfriend.🎄
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Sister Alessandra and her and Terzo's brood borrowed from Prime Mover Ren and her series, Tied as One Eternally. Please read it. Multiple times. Or read ANYTHING she makes. It'll warm your dark lil soul. 💜
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So. A few weeks back, the night before Luciana was born…
...
Terzo’s hands hovered protectively around over his daughter’s as she used a wooden match to light the long, pale candles driven into the oak log. 
“Ben fatto, mia figlia. Brava!” Terzo smiled, blowing out the match before kissing Mena’s cheek. 
The family’s yule log was now lit and seated in front of a frosted window. The glow of the festive stump and their newly-decorated Yule tree illuminated the Papal suite. 
Terzo promised to give his wife a day to herself and he had made good on his word. He woke, fed, and dressed the two kids and whisked them outside on an adventure with Zio ‘Peemo’. They had scavenged the forest to gather foragable materials to decorate an altar. Alessandra tiredly beamed at her family from the couch. Her “quiet” day had consisted of a nap, an overdue date with a few hours of Hulu, and indulging in the many holiday treats Primo was handing off to his dear, exhausted cognata daily. Frank Sinatra droned on in the background. The fireplace crackled and a simmer pot courtesy of Primo was bubbling on the stove; the smell of clove and bergamot wafted through the flat. A plate of frosted cookies remained half eaten on the coffee table. 
Primo suggested frosting cookies as a way to entertain the children to give Alé some much-needed alone time. Copia tagged along once he had gotten wind of cookies being mentioned. He and Terzo had been more than happy to help frost their own versions of cookies. Primo helped his brother’s children decorate trees adorned with pentagrams and demon-esque snowmen. Alessandra was less than amused to find the cookies her husband made specifically for her were just well-endowed gingerbread people with very poorly done corpse paint to resemble his own.
Mena jumped up onto the couch and threw her arms around her mom’s neck. Dante yawned as he snuggled closer to his mother; the excitement of the day beginning to wear on the interim youngest Emeritus. Mena sunk down to be at eye level with Alé’s bump.
“Okay, Luci, we have everything decorated for you. So we’re ready for you now!” Mena pleaded with her unborn sibling.
“Sadly, it doesn’t quite work that way,” Alessandra lamented giving her stomach a gentle rub, pulling her oldest daughter in for a hug.
“Well, she’ll be here sooner or later,” Terzo chimed in, pouring himself a refill of the leftover vin brulé he had pilfered from Primo’s quarters. Terzo sipped on his drink before turning back to his family, “Or else she’s going to share a birthday with a certain leper-groping, carpenter hippie.”
“Uh, we’re getting into overtime as it is here,” Alessandra interrupted, “She better be out well before the 25th…”
“I mean, Alé, unless you could try to keep her in until the, eh, 25th? We could use her as an anti-Christ figure against the Church!” Terzo rambled on. Alé shook her head, refusing to participate in her husband’s chaos.
“Luci is not going to be the anti-Christ,” Mena stated matter of factly. Alé’s eyebrows shot up as she turned to look at their oldest.
Terzo paused and raised his eyebrow at his daughter. He hesitated, but he had to know, “What makes you say that, topolina?”
Mena coyly smiled at her father and buried her face into his mother’s side, becoming bashful all of a sudden. Terzo’s expression pulled into a frown as he shook his head at his daughter, muttering to himself, “Stregallina pazza..”
“It’s getting pretty late, little ones,” Alé pointed out, kissing the top of her daughter’s head, motioning to the clock above the fireplace. Alé leaned back and peered over to Dante. The young boy had been watching the candle flames bounce from the adorned yule log, but as soon as he caught his mother’s gaze, he clamped his eyelids shut. Alessandra chuckled and gave him a gentle shake, “Dante, are you already asleep?”
“Yes,” Dante insisted, without opening his eyes as he fought off a smile. He rolled away from his mother as she began to tousle his hair up; he buried his face into the couch cushions. 
Terzo smirked as he snatched the pillow up from under his son’s head and gently bopped him in the back with the decorative cushion, “You sleep talk now, too, eh? Piccolo bugiardo.”
Dante giggled as he attempted to protect himself from the leisurely blows Terzo continued to pelt him with as he sipped away at his drink. Terzo finished his drink and set the glass back down on the table as he took the pillow and lovingly squished it against Dante’s face one more time. He clicked his tongue at his offspring, motioning between them both, “You heard your mama. Bed time.”
“I’m not tired,” Mena replied, suppressing a yawn. Dante had quieted down again, breathing softly, still buried beneath the throw pillow.
“Yes, I know. It’s amazing how you’re never tired,” Terzo admitted defeatedly as he shifted his weight to his hip, placing his hands on his waist. He furrowed his brow as he looked at Mena; his daughter maintained unbreaking, pleading eye contact. Terzo couldn’t help but cave. If anyone else said it, he’d beat their ass; but he was without question, a complete pushover for his precious daughter. 
“Ay, fine, why not go find the new book Zio Copia got for you and show your fratellino before bed?” Terzo suggested. He heard his wife cough and pat at her throat.
“ahHEM--weak--hhem.”
Terzo snapped his attention to glare daggers at his wife. Alé chewed on her lips to keep from laughing-- hoping to not pee herself. Before he could start his thought, his daughter’s cries interrupted him. 
“Yes!” Mena screeched enthusiastically as she leapt up from the couch, jostling Dante awake again, “And then after we read the book maybe we can get a rat for Yule, Papa??”
“No rats!” Terzo exclaimed, wide-eyed, putting his hands up to silence his daughter as she began to ramble to her father at a mile a minute. Damn his fratellino; filling his children’s minds with ratto thoughts.
“Papa!” Mena pleaded, her expression mimicking her father’s pout. Terzo felt his eyelid twitch.
“No. Rats.” Terzo insisted as he pointed towards Mena’s bedroom, “Sbrigati.”
Mena let out a heavy sigh as she marched towards her room, Dante quietly slid off the couch and bobbled after his sister. The two shuffled to the older one’s room where they could talk about maybe having Zio talk to their papa about a new pet.
“Why are you so opposed to this? Didn’t you boys have pets growing up?” Alessandra pried as she dropped her hands behind her in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure from her back. The ache today was no joke and she couldn’t wait to be done with this whole pregnancy.
Terzo huffed as he sunk down into the couch next to his partner, “Well yes, occasionally, the ones we’d find outside… the snakes.. The lizard.. The frogs.. but Primo always made us return them. But I also didn’t find myself with a wife and three children back then. Back then I had time for additional commitments! I refuse to take care of anything else at this time. Do you want to do it? Manage all of us plus a furry stronzo?!”
Alessandra smirked, choosing not to answer her husband. She adjusted herself to rest her head against his chest; Terzo gathered her legs and dropped them over his lap so he could massage her swollen calves. Alessandra moaned a little louder than she had planned as her head lolled back against the couch’s armrest.
“Prometto, when they’re out of my home, they can have as many disease-ridden burdens as they can handle,” Terzo clucked his tongue as he mimed circles around his head, “I have enough disease-ridden, snot burdens as it is.”
She frowned as she held out the back of her palm in an attempt to touch his forehead. Terzo awkwardly strained over for his wife to feel his skin. Most things ended up being a group effort for the past few weeks, “You do feel warm. Maybe you have thee crud.”
“Are you surprised? Alé, I feel like it's every other two weeks one of us is sick because of the two mostriciattoli,” Terzo stared incredulously at his wife as he continued .
Alé rolled her eyes as she let herself sink further into the couch. She winced as she felt the dull cramping in her back again. 
“Are you alright, amore?” Terzo questioned. Alessandra let out a sharp breath, holding her side.
“She’s definitely down in the right spot, that’s for sure,” Alé wrinkled her nose, clenching her jaw. Terzo’s mouth formed a tight line as he reached a hand over to place against her firm stomach.  He paused for a moment, considering his words before continuing.
“Well after the week you’ve had on your hands and knees begging for my cock, I had hoped that would help get something moving,” his concerned expression turning into a mischievous grin, gently patting her belly.
“Get your hands off me,” Alessandra hissed at him, batting his hands away from her. She attempted to pull her legs away, but Terzo held on, keeping her in place.
“I can bring a lot to the table, dolce,” Terzo purred, capturing her hand. He gently lifted her fingers and brought them to his lips; placing a chaste kiss. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, eliciting a giggle in response.
“Yes, Terzo, believe me, I’m very aware. Sometimes too much,” she laughed motioning with her free hand to her stomach. He smirked before leaning forward to kiss her belly. Alé cupped his cheek and gave him a content smile. Terzo softened his gaze as he locked eyes with her. Alé’s breath hitched as she suddenly felt her husband crush his lips against hers. Alé let out a soft moan as she felt her husband’s hands wriggle down the front of her robe and cup at her enlarged breast. Terzo continued to nip and bite at her neck as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. Alé wanted this so badly, but the kids were too close and knew a book wouldn’t keep them busy long enough.
“Hey!” Alé interjected against her husband’s fervent kisses, she gently placed her palm against his chest to snap him out of this state, “Hey, keep it in your pants, Papa! This one would be hard to play off in front of them.”
Terzo blinked back, trying to change gears wasn’t so easy when his Prime Mover looked like this. He felt slightly light-headed as he sat back against the couch with his cock straining against the confines of his slacks. He willed the blood to continue to circulate to other parts of his body. 
“Mi dispiace…” he cleared his throat and let out a long, frustrated sigh, “Alé, when you are like this, something takes over my mind, and I can’t think straight around you.”
“Well, I am flattered, but I’m also exhausted and like you said, you already had a good run this week.”
Terzo sighed, trying to focus on anything other than her breasts, his eyes flitted to the side table momentarily before changing his tone, “You know… I was only trying to add on a second early yule gift for my bellissima Prime Mover.”
Alé glowered at him. The emotional whiplash this man gave her sometimes made her question if it was worth it, “Second gift what!? Terzo, we said no gifts for each other this year. PERIOD.”
“It’s not a gift, per se!” Terzo argued, backsliding. 
“Listen to me, I have very little patience right now for you. You bring me cookies with massive, very graphic dicks on them. You massage my legs to just cop a feel--”
“I most certai--”
“Ah!” Alessandra cut him off and continued, “You beat our son!”
Terzo broke out into a shit-eating grin and laughed boisterously, “Please, like you wouldn’t smack the shit out of that little cattivello with a pillow if you had the chance!”
Alé’s serious face broke and she giggled, giving her husband a gentle shove, “You know what Primo told me? Dante pulls the same shit you and Secondo put that poor man through! So this IS actually all your fault that he’s like this. This is just generational karma!”
“That chiacchierone is nothing but a gossip! Stop talking about me behind my back with my fratello!” Terzo scoffed, waving his wife off, still chuckling to himself.
“You know I only agreed to marry you because it would get me closer to Primo,” Alé teased, scratching her nails down Terzo’s arm, Terzo rolling his eyes at her comment. The two lovers sat in comfortable silence taking in the disarray of their festively decorated home. This many years later, neither of them could still fathom this is where their path would take them.
“Eh, so, I did get you… a something,” Terzo finally admitted, fiddling around with his golden wedding ring, avoiding his wife’s accusatory gaze. Alé softly, but deliberately, punched him square in the shoulder.
“God. Damn. You,” Alessandra’s stare could have turned her husband into a Medusa-esque statue, “And I mean that, Terzo! We said no gifts! You make me look bad because I am capable of following rules!”
Terzo winked at her, rubbing his shoulder, as he leaned back behind the couch, snagging a small black box from the side table she hadn’t noticed before. He held the gift out to her; it was adorned with a dried orange and a cinnamon stick
“You bastard,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. Terzo placed the small box on top of her stomach. Alessandra huffed, jiggling the box.
“Consider our daughter in there your gift to me,” Terzo added, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.
“Oh you’re damn right she is!” Alé interjected as she felt their unborn child wedge her foot into her ribcage. The more she thought about it, the less bad she felt. Terzo wasn’t the one who was going to have to push another one of his big-headed children out from his crotch in the upcoming days. This was the least he could do for her. She lifted the giftbox and removed the ribbon fastening on the lid. Alessandra lifted the lid to reveal a delicate, gold, three moon pendant with a sizeable amethyst affixed to it. Her jaw dropped as she gaped at the necklace.
“Jesus Christ.”
“He had nothing to do with this one either, my love,” Terzo chuckled. He brushed a strand of Alé’s beautiful hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Alessandra stared at the jewelry, feeling every emotion all at once. Terzo continued, “I felt this was only fitting. Something nice for the woman who is graciously making me a father for the third time. Grazie, mia dea oscura. Grazie di tutto.”
“Oh Terzo,” Alé sniffed, “This is too much…”
“It is just barely the start, amore,” Terzo hummed, “After all you’ve done for me; with me. You deserve the world, vita mia. Thank you doesn’t seem to cut it.”
Alessandra chuckled as she handed her husband the jewelry to safely place on the table next to his crude gingerbread persons, “Alright, help me up. I’m going to start a bath, you get the kids into bed, then meet me back at the tub. I think you’ve earned one more round to really get something moving here.”
Terzo stared wide-eyed at his wife, in complete disbelief his plan had worked, “Ave Satanas.”
“Come on, cowboy,” Alé rubbed her hand against the length of his hardening cock, she leaned over to him as she pointed a stern finger in his face, as she mocked, “Sbrigati, eh?”
Terzo sucked his teeth, ignoring the piss poor imitation of himself his wife had just pulled on him, as he quickly sprung to his feet to assist Alé. As he helped her up, he pulled her straight into his embrace. He began planting small kisses over her face and neck, “Grazie mille. You will not regret this, Sorella!”
“Last chance, though, mister,” Alé warned him as she pulled away from his arms. Terzo hurriedly began snuffing out candles and grabbing dishes to leave in the kitchenette for later. She winked at him as she waddled down to their bathroom to go make good on her proposition. 
Translations: 
Ben fatto, mia figlia -- Well done, my girl
Stregallina pazza -- Crazy little witch
Piccolo bugiardo -- Little liar
Sbrigati -- Hurry up
Mostriciattoli -- Little monsters
Cattivello -- trouble-maker
Chiacchierone -- Chatterbox
Grazie, mia dea oscura -- Thank you, my dark goddess
Grazie di tutto -- Thank you for everything
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snooze button
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ amy’s birthday ficlet series ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
jessica jones x reader
prompt: sleep in
(tags beneath the cut)
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You groaned lightly as you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, pushing hair out of your eyes. It had been another late night, but you still couldn’t turn off your internal alarm clock long enough to actually sleep in. The clock on your phone screen read 7:03, and you cursed under your breath. Three and half hours sleep.
“Where’re you going?”
You paused at the sound of her mumbled words, turning to smile down at the woman in your bed. “To the coffee maker?”
“No…” Jessica groaned, rolling petulantly onto her side to press her face further into the pillow, her eyes still closed. The blankets tangled further around her, her hand fisting in the covers.
“You’ve got a meeting with a client in a couple of hours,” you reminded her, a humoured smile on your lips as you watched her brow furrow. “…At your place.”
“Fuck off,” she mumbled, folding the pillow over her head.
“Love you, too, Jess.” you replied, amused. “I’ll leave the pot on the burner.”
“Not yet…” she grumbled; eyes still closed as she reached out to blindly clutch at your wrist. You laughed as she pulled you back down onto the bed beside her, settling on your side as she buried her face in your back. “Why is your bed always so… nice…”
“Clean sheets,” you replied teasingly, and she groaned against your shoulder. Her fingers curled in your shirt, and you smiled as you covered her hand with yours. “Five minutes, Jess.”
Jessica shook her head against your shoulder, her hand slipping under your shirt to spread over your ribs, warm and soft. She moved to press her lips to the curve of your neck, her hair tickling your cheek. “Fifteen.”
You chuckled, rolling onto your back. Jess moved with you, her lips brushing over your jaw. You kissed her forehead as she settled against your chest, an almost bashful smile playing on her lips as she wrapped her arm around your hips. “Ten… and then we shower.”
Jessica breathed a quiet laugh, tucking her head under your chin. “Maybe.”
tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @startrekkingaroundasgard @imapotatao @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
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A and 1 for Billy please! 🥹
Here you go, anon. Since you asked so nicely :)
When I first saw this combination, I thought angst, but instead it turned out really sappy. Hope you enjoy.
A. Drunk Reader 1. 'Please don't leave.'
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‘You’re so good to me,’ you drawled, leaning into Billy’s side. Your arm was around his shoulders and both of his were around your waist, but still he struggled to keep you steady.
You were very drunk.
But you were also very adorable, so Billy didn’t mind helping you home after your big birthday bash. After all, what else were best friends for?
‘Yeah, I’m a saint,’ he chuckled as he finally managed to manoeuvre you so that he could lock your front door behind him. ‘Come on, let’s get you to bed.’
‘Mr Russo, are you trying to seduce me?’ You made a poor attempt at waggling your eyebrows before letting out a loud cackle, obviously thinking you were very funny.
Billy resisted the temptation to tell you he had been trying to seduce you for months now, and instead just smiled fondly.
After a couple of false starts, he got you into your bed and under the covers. He made sure you had water and painkillers next to your bed and then made to leave.
‘Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty,’ he chuckled.
He barely made it two steps to the door before you were beckoning him back. ‘Please don’t leeeave,’ you whined. He turned to see you pouting at him with your best puppy dog eyes.
‘I’ll just be on the couch,’ he said, half soothing, half amused.
‘The couch is too small for you.’ It was the most sober thing you had said in the last hour, and it had Billy pausing. You patted the bed next to you. ‘Plenty of room.’ You smiled, the mischievous glint back in your eyes. ‘Promise I won’t bite.’
Billy rolled his eyes even as his lips twitched. After a moment or two consideration, he bent down and took off his shoes and socks. It wasn’t the first time you had both shared a bed, so he didn’t think you’d freak out when you woke up. He’d just have to resist temptation and keep his hands to himself during the night.
Your happy smile when he lifted the covers and got in beside you was worth the effort.
He had just gotten comfortable on his back when you threw your arm over his body and rested your head on his chest. ‘Night,’ you mumbled, and a few seconds later, you were snoring softly.
So much for resisting temptation, but he figured one night of cuddling couldn’t hurt.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Billy Russo never cuddled. But with you, he had to admit it was a nice feeling; one that he yearned to repeat when you were sober. Frequently.
But that was a discussion for another night. One where he wasn’t such a coward and you hadn’t taken five shots of tequila. For now, he was just happy to hold you and dream about falling asleep like this every night.
'Goodnight, princess.'
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koalasandcats · 4 months
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Hey everyone! This is my first time sharing my work online! A little nervous but anyway-
CC's weekend Birthday Bash: @and-stir-the-stars
Prompt: Nightmare
Evan’s soft footsteps padded down the hallway, careful not to hit the squeaky floorboards of their family home. He held his breath creeping as still as a shadow, or a ghost in the night.
The 7-year old clutched his yellow bear tightly, stopping in front of a white door with flowers dotted on it’s painted wood. He cast a glance behind his back, but the only thing to greet him was the red wallpaper of his home and the grandfather clock at the end of the hall.
He raised his pale fist against the door, letting it tap. But he barely heard a rustle in the air. He took a deep inhale in, as he lowered his hand to the handle creaking the door open.
“Liz?” He whispered. He paused at the doorway peeking in and looking at the sleeping ginger-haired girl in bed. “Liz?” Evan said a little louder, watching the girl stir, blinking up at him.
“Ev? It’s way too early to be up…what’s wrong?” Elizabeth yawned, casting her glance to her alarm clock, at the ungodly hour of 3:00am. Elizabeth turned on her bedside lamp, illuminating her room in a warm yellow light.
“I had a nightmare…” Evan whispered, pulling Fredbear up to mask his red cheeks. Father said big kids didn’t cry. Mikey said only babies get scared by nightmares.
Lizzie sighed pressing her fingers to her temples. Evan instinctively was about to trudge back to his room before she held a hand-up.
“No Ev, you can stay. Just don’t expect this every night.” She shifted to the side of her bed, as Evan took a step forward. His shoulders were tense as he lowered himself to Lizzie’s mattress, but the expected push never came. His back pressed against her mattress, as she stared at him with pressing green eyes.
“Why don’t you go wake up daddy? Why come to me?” Liz asked sounding a little exasperated. Evan hugged Fredbear tighter, as he stumbled over his words.
“He…doesn’t like me bothering him. Big kids don’t have nightmares.” Evan stuttered, his brown eyes not meeting Elizabeth’s green. Elizabeth snorted letting out a small chuckle, putting her hand on Evan's shoulder.
“Sure they do. I still have them. And I’m sure Mikey has them as well.” Lizzie put her mouth close to Evan’s ear as if telling a secret. “Daddy probably has them too.” Lizzie chuckled softly to herself, but Evan could only give a small smile. How could his father have nightmares? He seemed like some dominant force, unmovable, unbreakable. Elizabeth never cried after her nightmares, or beg to sleep with someone and neither did Mikey. He was the crybaby of the family, the odd-one out.
“And nightmares can't hurt you.” Elizabeth said, squeezing her brother's hand. Evan remained quiet. He knew that, of course he did! What really hurt him was the vividness of monsters pounding on his door, the noises of the hall. His own sister didn't understand it, nobody did.
Elizabeth gave Evan a pat on the head before turning back to face the wall.
“Get to sleep Evan, and if you have any nightmares wake me up.” Elizabeth said softly, pulling the covers over her and her brother. Evan felt like protesting, but his weary eyes soon drooped. His monsters could wait for another day. Trusting in his sister to keep him safe, he shut his eyes.
Tomorrow is another day
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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year
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Fortuitous: second and end
Rating: Mature Length: ~1k words Genre: Modern!AU, slice of (married) life, (mild) smut Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot)  x  OC (named Marjorie Reiss) Notes: Continuation of the first part, foodplay towards the end, also this is my first time writing something smutty smutty /srs, may contain inaccuracies, quick proofread so sorry for some errors!
“We’re home!”
A soft chunk of void welcomed the couple. “Kyaah~! Did you wait for us, Jiji?” Marjorie knelt down and gently scratched his chin. And out of sudden, Sebastian delicately scratched her head, “shower first, Gremlin.”
“Unless you make osmanthus tea.”
“Deal.”
She rose and went for a shower. He sneered as he smelt his fingers that touched her head. It’ll be an hour at the minimum, he thought. An hour was sufficient for feeding their cats, showering, shaving, brewing tea, and looking for any candle left in the kitchen drawer. Even he could finish it all in half an hour. But why did he need candles?  
―――――
A lavender bathrobe wrapped around her damp body. The hair towel was worn like a nun’s veil. Those slippers squeaked a bit as she strutted her way to the dining room. There, she was stunned by the table setting. It was simple yet neat. The red velvet cake from the pastel pink box was on the right side. The frosting was slightly off, perhaps from her tight grip on her way to the station. Four birthday candles adorned the cake as if it was a substitute for cherries. The plates, cups, and cutlery were on each side like the wings. And the big cat was seen near the sink, cutting the roses’ stems. 
“You don’t have to arrange it this nice, Bash,” she pulled the chair and calmly sat down. 
“And,” she chortled while taking off her hair towel, “what’s with the candles? Nobody in this house was born on this day.”
“Why not?” He put the vase filled with roses in the middle of the table before he sat next to her.
She lit the candles, “shall we sing too?”
“You said none of us celebrate birthdays today. So let’s just make a wish.”
“Alright,” she intertwined her hands and closed her eyes. He followed her soon after.
They blew the candles together. 
“Oh, I almost forgot your tea,” he got up to fetch the kettle.
Immediately, she removed the candles and scooped a big bite to her mouth.
“Starving much?” He poured the hot tea into the cups. 
She only nodded, still relishing herself over a medium treat. Then she sipped the tea slowly to let her throat warm up. There was a few seconds pause before she took another bite.  
But his focus shifted from his slice to her lips. Traces of the cream cheese frosting were all over that plumpy flesh. Now, it was a battle between him and her tongue.
Unfortunately, her tongue was quicker than his senses. She licked clean that sweet cream from her lips. Ahm-m! A spoonful of cake went to her mouth again. Still, a messy gourmand like Marjorie would never eat spotlessly. 
This time, Sebastian won over her. By the time her mouth opened slightly, he leaned on and managed to seize it. However, she didn’t resist that sudden attack at all. She allowed him to press his lips onto hers, softly sucking the leftover cream on her lips. Her blood rushed to her head although all her nerves went numb. It was an equilibrium between saccharine and tobacco. It should be a perfect mix of fuel for them. 
As he tried tilting his head to deepen the kiss, she tugged at his hair. He slowly released the kiss with a look of pain and confusion. 
“Marje?” He furrowed his brows. That pair of dark jade stared at her. 
“It’s corny,” she sneered in a muffled tone. 
“Huh?”
“It’s co-” his finger was faster than her mouth. The sweet frosting was smeared on her lips. And his bittersweet lips caught it again. It was deeper than the first time. Even their noses were pressed onto each other’s skin. Even until her glasses were shoved closer to her eyes.
He drew her chair towards him; but unexpectedly, when he moved the chair for a centimeter, she pushed him and straddled his lap. He was absolutely taken aback by her reaction. And now they were facing each other. 
She took off her glasses then flaunted it at him, “my… can’t you see that?” The lenses were clouded with her sebum and scratches of water from his damp hair. 
Irritated like a true bespectacled, she swiftly tossed her glasses to the table and grabbed a handful of cake. Then, she spread that lump on his lips as if to shut him first before he apologised. But she didn’t stop there. She trailed her greasy hand to his cheek, sensually down to his neck, to his bare hunky chest underneath the loosened white bathrobe…
He clasped her wrist in a flash and scoffed, “not that fast, Little Slut.”
The temperature surrounding them escalated like the summer sun had risen. Their eyes were full of lust yet both of them hesitated to assert dominance. They had a war in their own minds whether they should step up first or stay, to which it was ironic since making love wasn’t a new thing for them. 
But Marjorie and Sebastian tended to mirror each other. Or, in this time, their hormones were in charge? They moved their heads recklessly that instead of exchanging an erotic and passionate kiss, they accidentally bumped their teeth onto each other. 
She buried her face on the crook of his neck and whimpered. He sighed while rubbing his forefinger on his upper lips, trying to soothe the pain. Then, a chuckle followed simultaneously before it grew to a guffaw. 
“But, Marje,” he said while holding his laughter.
“Hm?”
“I think we should.”
“We…” she wrinkled her brows. Her ebony brown irises wandered around. Her lower lips protruded into a pout. Her mind attempted to decipher his words, “...should?”
His brawny arm picked her up as he rose from the chair. Meanwhile, his other hand took the remaining cake. 
“I bet you didn’t realise that you’d been sitting on my cigar, Mrs. Reiss.”
And thus, the two cats headed to their nest. 
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seijorhi · 3 years
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Inexorable ♕
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My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh
Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader
tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?
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He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.
Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.
Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.
Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.
You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 
And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.
Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 
No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.
The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 
Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha
Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.
Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.
Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.
Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.
They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.
You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.
It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?
You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.
Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.
The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.
“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”
He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”
And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 
But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.
“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 
You couldn’t care less.
Kazuma was in your apartment.
Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 
And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.
It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.
Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 
Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 
With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 
A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–
Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.
You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.
So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.
There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.
And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.
Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.
Silence greets you. 
You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–
Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.
This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.
“I-I need a gun.”
To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”
They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 
Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.
You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 
“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”
“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”
Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.
Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”
Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 
The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”
It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”
Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”
You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.
You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 
“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”
Wordlessly, you comply.
“Look at me.”
Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 
He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”
Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”
“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.
Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?
“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 
“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.
Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.
And the other part of you revels in it.
“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.
He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 
He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 
“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”
Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 
Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 
In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.
His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 
You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.
The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 
At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.
You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 
“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 
Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 
Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.
You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.
And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 
“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.
Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.
You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 
Do you actually want to?
“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 
He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.
And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.
You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.
The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.
“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–
Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 
It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.
Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 
And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 
Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 
“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.
He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.
“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”
Weakly, you nod.
“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.
And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.
There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 
Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.
And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.
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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years
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No Returns or Exchanges - Fred Weasley
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Title: No Returns or Exchanges Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N get to start their happily ever after A/N: this is for @mrs-fredweasley​. I usually do my requests in the order I receive them, but she asked for some fluff with Fred and the reader getting married and having kids for her birthday, and since she’s my birthday twin I couldn’t resist! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open!
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“There you are, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred greets as he sneaks up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist.
“I’m not Mrs. Weasley quite yet, Freddie,” Y/N teases as she turns around in his embrace. Her arms wind around Fred’s neck and she pulls him in for a brief kiss. “You’re about twelve hours too early.”
Fred starts to slowly sway them back and forth, humming quietly to the music drifting through the air from the large tent behind them. Fred and Y/N aren’t getting married until tomorrow, but Ginny, Y/N’s maid of honor, insisted on mixing some muggle wedding traditions in alongside the regular wizard ones. Tonight, had been what Ginny referred to as the rehearsal dinner, where the wedding party and their close family went through the ceremony that will take place tomorrow, before having a mini celebration together.
“Do I really have to go home without you?” Fred pouts. Another muggle tradition Ginny insisted on was that Y/N and Fred would not be allowed to see each other until Y/N was heading down the aisle towards him.
Y/N giggles and kisses Fred’s pout away. “I think it’ll be romantic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that what they say?” Y/N rolls her eyes playfully when Fred frowns at her. “Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s only one night apart.”
“When’s the last time we spent more than 1 hour apart outside of work?” Fred ask, looking down at Y/N expectantly. When she doesn’t answer he smiles. “Exactly. One night is going to feel like an eternity.”
“Okay so maybe it’ll be a bit hard,” Y/N concedes. “But after tomorrow we’ll get to spend every day for the rest of eternity together, that’s gotta be worth it, isn’t it? And have you forgotten that we’ll be spending the next two weeks completely alone together in a cabin in the woods.”
“How can I forget about that?” Fred muses. “Just me, you, and as little clothing as possible for two weeks straight. That’s the only kind of honeymoon I want.” Most of their friends and family were surprised that Fred and Y/N didn’t want to go on some adventurous honeymoon but wanted to just relax together in some secluded forest. But for them that seemed like the only option. It’s only been 13 months since the war ended, and after Fred’s near-death experience he and Y/N decided to take life slow for a bit.
“So that’s why you wanted to go somewhere secluded,” Y/N says, realization washing over her.
Fred laughs. “I may have had ulterior motives when I convinced you to book the cabin in the woods over the beach house.”
Y/N shakes her head fondly. “You’re a bit of a menace, you know that?”
“Yeah but I’m your menace. And you’re way past the return or exchange date so you’re stuck with me,” he jokes, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.
“Oi, lover boy!” George calls from behind them. Y/N and Fred break apart so they can look at him. “Ginny says it’s time to go, and she’s already wacked me over the head once so get your arse over here before she does it again.”
“See you tomorrow?” Fred asks as he leans down to kiss Y/N briefly.
“Meet you at the altar,” she confirms with a smile.
-
“You sure you wanna marry my brother?” Ginny teases as they get ready to walk down the aisle. “Because I could cause a distraction if you wanna slip out the front door and run away.”
Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet Ginny hands her.  “Ha, ha. Very funny, Gin.”
Ginny beams at her before taking her place in line. Y/N takes a deep breath as the music starts, silently regretting that she chose to not have her dad walk her down the aisle. A few months ago, she had bashed the archaic notion of someone giving her away to Fred as if she were a piece of property, but as nerves start to bubble in her stomach she wishes she had someone by her side to calm her down. Everyone in front of her starts to slowly head towards the alter, and she fixes her dress one last time before she follows behind Ginny.
“Holy shit, Y/N,” Fred whispers as she takes his hands at the altar. There are tears in his eyes, and a few leak down his cheeks. “You’re absolutely stunning.”
Y/N blushes, trying to blink away her own tears as to not ruin her makeup. “You clean up quite nice as well, Freddie.”
Fred smiles down at her, maintaining eye contact as the official from the ministry starts the ceremony. Fred squeezes Y/N’s hands tightly as he talks, only half paying attention to what he’s saying. His thoughts are completely consumed with Y/N and how breathtakingly beautiful she is. The dress she picked out compliments all of her best features, and the veil cascading down her shoulders makes her look like a goddess. Fred has imagined this day over a dozen times since he proposed last year, but everything he thought of pales in comparison to how beautiful Y/N looks right now.
“Can I have the rings?” the officiant asks, pulling Fred’s thoughts fully to the ceremony. George digs around in his pocket for a moment before handing the delicate silver rings to the man. He hands the smaller one to Fred. “Now it’s my understanding that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows?” When Fred and Y/N nod, he smiles and motions for Fred to start.
“Y/N, I’ve been enamored with you since I was 11 years old, when you made your cauldron blow up and covered Snape head to toe in the worst smelling goo I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying something,” Fred pauses as everyone chuckles, and he starts to slide the ring down Y/N’s finger. “When you agreed to accompany me to Hogsmeade during third year I felt like the luckiest guy in the world and I still do. I was so nervous, I had no idea how I managed to convince the pretties girl in school to go out with me, and all these years later I have no idea how I convinced you to marry me. But like I said last night, there’s no returns or exchanges you’re stuck with me for good now.”
Fred slides the ring down Y/N’s finger until it meets her engagement ring. “You’ve stuck by me through every risk I’ve taken and every dumb idea that’s popped into my mind. You were one of the first people to support my dream of opening the joke shop with George, and you were there to support me every step of the way. Every late-night George and I had planning things out or developing products you were right there with me, usually you were asleep, but it was still nice to have you there. You were always the first person to volunteer to test out a product and you were always there for me to vent to when something didn’t work out. You pushed me to leave school early with George, and once you moved in with us you were always there to snuggle with me after a long day.”
Fred takes a deep breath and brings one of his hands up to wipe away the tears Y/N has started to shed. “You gave up so much of your life to be there for me after I was crushed by that wall. No matter how hard I tried to get you to go back to work or just leave the house in general. You’ve always shown me unconditional love and support, and that’s what I’m promising to show you for the rest of our lives. No matter how crazy or hard or scary life gets, I’ll be there by your side, loving you and helping you through it.”
By the time the officiant is pronouncing them husband and wife, both Fred and Y/N are openly crying, but as they share their first kiss as husband and wife, neither of them really cares.
-
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Fred greets with a smile as Y/N pushes the door to his office open. He pushes away from his desk slightly and pats his lap.
“Me too, I hate throwing up,” Y/N responds, taking a seat on Fred’s lap. She settles in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “How’s work going today, husband?” she asks with a giggle. They’ve been married for just over two months, and it still gives Y/N butterflies every time she refers to Fred as her husband.
Fred rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s face so he can press a kiss to her lips. “It’s been quite busy today wife. The restock of the new whizbang line already sold out.” Fred settles his hands on Y/N’s hips and kisses her again. “What about you? What have you been getting up to on your day off?”
“I had breakfast with Ginny and Hermione. Did some shopping,” she says casually pointing towards the bags she dropped near the door. “Nothing too crazy or exciting.”
Fred’s eyes light up at the sight of the bags. “Shopping, hm? Did you happen to pick up a present for your lovely, adorable, adoring husband while you were out?” he asks hopefully.
“Maybe,” Y/N muses with a wink. “You’ll have to wait until after work to find out.” Y/N giggles as Fred frowns and she kisses him one last time before standing up.
“You’re such a tease,” he scolds as Y/N gathers the bags in her hand.
“I know.” She waves at Fred and blows him a kiss before heading back into the joke shop and upstairs to their flat. They’re still living with George for the time being as they save up for a house, and as Y/N places her shopping bags on the bed she starts to wonder if they’ll have to start looking for one sooner rather than later.
Y/N sticks her hand in one of the bags and fumbles around a bit, humming as her hands closes around a rectangular cardboard box. Her hand shakes slightly as she pulls the pregnancy test out and starts to familiarize herself with the instructions. While her and Fred have already come to the conclusion that they both want a house full of children someday, she never imagined that they may be starting their family so soon after their wedding.
“Now or never,” Y/N mutters to herself as she heads towards the bathroom. Y/N thought they had been careful while on their honeymoon, she knows there were a few times they had forgotten to use the contraceptive charm in the heat of the moment, but she figured it would be okay. However, when her period never came she began to suspect that they weren’t in fact okay, and the random nausea spells she’s been having for the past week seemed to only solidify that fact.
After she’s closed and locked the door behind her, Y/N does what she needs to do and sets the pregnancy test on the counter face down. “Who knew three minutes could feel like a lifetime?” she asks to no one as she watches the time go by on her watch. When the three minutes is finally up Y/N’s hand starts to shake again as she reaches for the stick. She shuts her eyes tightly as she flips it over, and after a few deep breaths she finally takes a peek.
Pregnant.
Y/N starts to cry as a whirlwind of emotions flow through her. On one hand she’s so overwhelmingly happy, being a mother is something she’s always wanted and to be doing it with Fred makes her heart burst with joy. But she can’t help but also feel an intense bout of worry flowing through her. She and Fred are only 21, and they haven’t even been married six months yet. Y/N knows that Fred wants to be a dad, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll think this is a bad thing and that it’s far too soon for them to become parents.
“Hey, love. You left one of your bags downstairs,” Fred calls out as he walks through the door.
Y/N furiously wipes away her tears and sticks the pregnancy test in the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door, jumping slightly when she sees Fred. “You scared me, Freddie. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”
Fred frowns at her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” When Y/N nods he gives her a look. “Were you throwing up again? You’re all pale, love. Are you sure we shouldn’t go see a muggle doctor or a healer or something?”
“I’m fine, love,” Y/N reassures, pushing past Fred. She starts to head down the hall when she feels Fred’s hand brush her ass. “What are you- oh,” she gasps, turning around to face Fred. He’s staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “Fred,” Y/N starts, not really sure what to say.
“Is this what I think it is?��� Fred murmurs, looking up at Y/N. He grips the test in his hand tightly, tears starting to form in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”
Y/N nods slowly as she bites her lip. “Yeah, I am.” Fred falls to his knees and brings Y/N close to him, shoving her shirt up a little. He starts to pepper kisses all over her warm skin, laughing as Y/N starts to giggle and squirm. “Fred! Fred stop that tickles!”
Fred presses one final kiss to her stomach before he stands up and kisses Y/N passionately. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby.” Fred lets go of Y/N and starts to head towards the door. “I have to go tell George.”
“Freddie, wait,” Y/N calls with a laugh, chasing after him. She closes her hand around his wrist and pulls him back towards her. “You’re not mad? Or upset?”
Fred gives Y/N a look like she’s crazy. “Upset? Mad? Why would I be any of those things? You know I want to be a dad, love. We’ve talked about this before.”
“I dunno,” Y/N shrugs. “We’re young and we haven’t been married for that long. I just thought you wouldn’t think it’s the right time.”
Fred sighs and comes back towards Y/N, wrapping her up in a hug. “Love I don’t care about any of that. So, what we’ve only been married for two months? We’ve been as good as married since we were 18 when you first moved in here.” Fred presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Besides if we’re gonna have enough kids to fill a quidditch team we need to have them young, I can’t be an old man teaching my kids how to fly,” he jokes with a laugh.
“A whole quidditch team?” Y/N asks. When Fred gives her a wink Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you Fred Weasley.”
-
“Fred what are you doing?” Y/N murmurs around a yawn. She started to wake up after a warm heavy weight rested on her stomach, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw Fred half hanging off the bed as he laid on his front. He’d pushed her shirt up and his head is hovering over the swell of her stomach while his hand strokes it lightly.
“Talking to the baby,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious.
Y/N shifts so she’s laying on her elbows so that she can look down at him properly. “At 2 am?”
Fred nods, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I couldn’t sleep. And I read in that muggle book Hermione gave us last week that the baby can hear things now, so I figured I’d try it out.”
Y/N chuckles brings a hand up to rub her stomach. “Well I think the baby likes the sound of your voice, they’ve been moving like crazy.” Early last week Y/N had started to feel the baby move around inside of her. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of her, but now she’s started to miss it when the baby is still.
“Really?” Fred asks, his eyes lighting up. The movements Y/N has been feeling are still far too light for Fred to feel from the outside, but every night he spends hours rubbing her bump to try and feel something.
“Yeah, really. My ribs have become a punching bag.” Y/N smiles as the baby lands a few kicks to her stomach. “Here, gimme your hand.
Fred gives Y/N the hand that isn’t already on her stomach, watching as she places it on the side of her bump. She presses his hand into her skin, and he holds his breath, hoping to feel something. “Holy shit,” he gasps as the skin beneath his hand moves ever so slightly. Fred watches his hand in awe, smiling as it moves lightly with each movement. “That’s so cool.”
Y/N laughs and lets go of Fred’s hand so she can run her hand through his hair. “Innit? Though it does feel kinda weird that it’s like, coming from inside of me. But it’s nice. Like I’m never alone.”
“Hey little one,” Fred coos against Y/N’s skin, pressing down against her stomach as he feels the baby kick him in response. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.” Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s skin and tears form in his eyes when he feels a small movement against his mouth. “I know your Mummy is doing such an amazing job of growing you in there but hurry up and get out of there so I can hold you and play with you and kiss you and cuddle you.” Fred tears his eyes away from Y/N’s bump so he can wink at his wife. “Plus, the sooner you get out of there the sooner Daddy can give you a sibling.”
Y/N scoffs and flicks Fred on the forehead. “Can we finish making this one before you start planning the next?”
“What? There’s no harm in planning ahead,” he teases, crawling up the bed to kiss Y/N sweetly.
-
“Hi there little bug,” Fred coos, gently rocking his newborn daughter. She’s only a few hours old, and her big eyes are bright as she blinks up at Fred. “I’m your Daddy and I love you so much Miss Ellie belly.”  Her actual name is Electra, but Fred has settled on calling her Ellie. Y/N had found her name in a baby book Hermione dropped off, and they both instantly fell in love with it. It means bright one, and after the dark times Fred and Y/N had survived in order to bring her into the world it seemed like the perfect fit.
Fred presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting as she makes a little noise. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. “Just don’t tell Mummy I said that.”
“Maybe you should check to make sure Mummy is asleep before you start spilling your secrets,” Y/N responds with a laugh.
Fred turns around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, love. I figured you’d be a goner after the past few days you’ve had.”
Y/N moves over to make room for Fred and pats the space next to her. “I was only in labor for what 36 hours? That’s nothing,” she says with a laugh.
Fred comes over and sits next to Y/N, cradling Ellie tightly against his chest. “Don’t downplay yourself, love. You’re an absolute superhero.” He begrudgingly passes the baby back to Y/N and wraps an arm around her, his other hand coming up to grab Ellie’s foot through the blanket she’s wrapped up in. “We wouldn’t have our perfect little angel without you.”
Y/N blushes, looking over at Fred. “You helped a little bit. And I did nearly break your hand while I was pushing.”
“Aw, Y/N. You flatter me,” Fred teases. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes a moment to just watch as Y/N cuddles Ellie close. “I didn’t know I could love something this much,” Fred says quietly, crying slightly for the second time that day. The first had been when the doctor placed Ellie in his arms for the first time. “But every time I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst from how much love is in it.”
“I know, right? Every time I look at her I feel like crying. She’s just so tiny and perfect and ours.” Y/N leans down and presses a kiss to Ellie’s forehead. “I almost can’t believe that we made her. I don’t know how you and I could make something so beautiful.”
Fred gently grabs Y/N’s chin and turns her head so he can kiss her passionately. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is no surprise that our daughter is the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly, before letting go of her chin so he can stroke Ellie’s cheek. “How are you feeling, love? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m alright, Freddie, thank you,” Y/N says softly, looking back down at their daughter. “I actually feel really good. To be honest your Mum scared me a bit, I thought it would be way worse.”
Fred chuckles, melting as Ellie’s eyes flutter closed. “I think Healers have revolutionized childbirth in the twenty years it’s been since she had a baby.” He bites his lip, nudging Y/N so she’ll look at him. “So now that this one’s out, when can we start trying for number 2?”
-
“Y/N love, I’m home!” Fred calls, stepping out of their fireplace and into the living room. He dusts the ashes from his suit, frowning when his wife doesn’t answer him immediately. But it turns into a smile when he spots his daughter peering at him over top of her play pen.
“Ellie,” he coos, heading over to her. “Look at you, standing up on your own!” he praises, lifting her out and up into the air. He tosses her up gently, laughing as she giggles madly at him. “Where’s your Mummy?” he asks, settling the infant on his hip. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his stomach turning to mush when she cuddles into his chest. “Let’s go find her then, hm?”
Fred starts to explore the house, grinning as Ellie babbles baby nonsense into his skin. He can’t believe how fast the past 8 months have gone, and while he loves watching Ellie grow and learn new things, he misses the baby stage already. “What do you think Mummy’s doing?” he asks, nodding along to her babbles as if she’s actually answering him. “I think she might be hiding to scare Daddy. What do you think?”
After checking their downstairs Fred starts to head up the stairs, his fingers lightly digging into Ellie’s belly to tickle her. She shrieks with laughter, and it sounds like music in Fred’s ears. “Daddy misses you while he’s at work, Miss Ellie belly. I think I should take you with me tomorrow. What do you think? Do you wanna spend the day with Daddy and Uncle George at the joke shop?”
Fred peppers kisses to Ellie’s head as he walks down the hallway. The door to his and Y/N’s room is shut and as he goes to grab the doorknob it swings open and Y/N practically runs into him.
“Oh, Fred,” she gasps, holding something to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in, love.” Fred eyes her wearily as Y/N leans forward to tickle Ellie’s stomach with her free hand and press kisses to her chubby cheeks. “Is your Daddy home, Miss Ellie? Did Daddy finally come home to see you?” she asks, laughing as Ellie giggles at her.
“What’s in your hand?” Fred asks.
Y/N looks up at him, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Nothing,” she responds, showing him the hand that was on Ellie’s stomach.
Fred rolls his eyes playfully. “The other one, gorgeous.”
“Oh, um,” Y/N blushes and looks away from Fred as she takes her hand from her chest and opens her palm. A positive pregnancy test is laying in her hand, staring up at Fred.
Fred gasps. “Another one?”
Y/N nods and snuggles into Fred’s chest as he pulls her into a hug with his free hand. “Dunno why you’re so surprised, you’ve been trying to get me pregnant since Ellie was born.”
Fred laughs and leans down to kiss Y/N deeply. “Guess it’s time to start thinking about the next one then,” he teases.
Y/N glares at Fred. “Are you sure it’s not too late to return or exchange you?”
“Sorry love, I burned the receipt long ago,” Fred responds with a laugh, kissing Y/N again.
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tangerinemoon · 3 years
Text
Something Wonderful
A/N: I wrote a self indulgent fic based on a musical because I have no self control. This is also the 3rd time I've attempted to write a fic like this, and this is the first time I've actually enjoyed it! 18+ DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!
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warnings: angst, smut, more angst, language, blatant references to the last five years
word count: 2860
Part of the Bakguo Birthday Bash server collab hosted by  @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe and @ramen-rambles 
Event Masterlist Here
-----
Five Years
The door slammed shut, a loud bag echoing throughout the apartment. Pictures on the wall shaking from the force of it, one of them crashing to the ground, the glass of the frame cracking. Emotions swelled up inside of you, threatening to spill over, to crack as well. 
You had told yourself in the beginning that a relationship with a Pro Hero would be hard, especially with someone considered the number two hero. He had assured you that you’d be fine, that the two of you could do it. Somewhere down the line you’d realized he’d been wrong, that you were both lying to yourselves. A fleeting thought in your mind wondering if you chased after him, would it magically make everything back to the way it was? Maybe if you tried more. Maybe if he communicated better.
“Maybe” doesn’t change a thing. It doesn’t turn back time to allow for do-overs. It doesn’t take back the words you said and the actions he made.
“You walk out that door, Katsuki, you’re walking out on us, so don’t bother coming back.”
A sob racked through your chest, as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You’d given him the invitation to leave and he took it. The truth was, it had been over long before that door slammed, before the argument that led to it. Both of you knew it, but only now you could admit it to yourself. You couldn’t paint your life with lies because you wanted it to work so badly. 
It started it out with small arguments. Frustrations bubbling over and spilling out. While Bakugo’s Pro Hero career had taken off, landing him quickly in the Number Two spot. Your career seemed to fall deeper and deeper into the cracks. It wasn’t that you were mad at Bakugo for saving lives and helping people. No, you were so unbelievably proud of him. That didn’t stop anxiety and self doubt creeping in after every failed audition as you watched the world fall more and more in love with him. There was no comparing your work to Bakugo’s. There was no comparing hero work to acting. They were two different worlds. In the beginning you were both so supportive of each other, but as time went on, Bakugo was coming home less and less. Which should be fine, he’s out saving the world. It’d be selfish to be upset over that. But hero work wasn’t just saving the city and catching villains. It was public events, parties, galas, meet and greets. Things you weren’t always invited to. Things he started picking over you. It was part of the sacrifice. He wanted to be the best, and the things apparently helped him become the best. But did that mean you had to be left behind? The last event you accompanied him to, he had been swept up by a swarm of people, leaving you alone at a table the whole night. With every time he was gone, self doubt would crawl into your mind and you couldn’t help but really wonder if you were still a part of his life. 
Tonight was no different. Another event, another party, another time to get dressed up and sit alone in the corner all night. Watching as reporters, heroes, and fans alike fawned over him. You had told him that you wanted to stay in, he told you that he had to go. 
“It’s not even your party, Katsuki!” you had said, “can’t we just stay in? Your whole pro hero career isn’t going to fall apart because you bailed one party. I don’t want to go, please. ” 
One thing led to another, and soon you were in a full blown screaming match in the main room as he continued to get ready. It seemed like all you did was fight now when you saw each other. About his job, about your job, about nothing, until finally one of you cracked. 
“Although you’ve made it clear that you’re not going, I’m still going, okay?” he clenched his fists, back turned to you as he spoke, “I’m not going to pause my career because yours is failing!” 
With that you told him to leave. After everything was said and done: Bakugo left. 
The life you’d built together was done. It felt like all you could do now was cry. Cry until you could pick yourself back up and try to put yourself back together. Sitting alone in the apartment that served as nothing but a bombshell of your five year relationship. 
You don’t know how long you were sitting there. It felt like maybe hours had gone by. Every time you thought you were done crying, a new fresher wave of tears came barrelling down your cheeks. It was starting to feel cathartic, to release every emotion that’d been stirring up inside of you. Eventually you pulled yourself up off the floor. Walking around the apartment now felt like walking in a stranger's home. You made your way to the bedroom, the room that once felt like a safe haven for the two of you, but now served as a cruel reminder by how empty it’d felt. Empty long before he walked out that door. 
You sat down at the edge of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. In a few moments you would clean out your things from the closet and dresser. Taking any and all that you could with you, before calling a friend and seeing if you could stay with them. For now you’ll let the weight of the situation sink in just a little longer.
Your relationship was over. Gone. Somewhere along the way, something wonderful died. 
First Year
You’d met at a bar. He was out celebrating his birthday with some friends, while you had been dragged out by your roommate and their friends. It seemed like neither one of you wanted to be there, and by chance you both ended up sitting next to each other at the bar top avoiding your respected friend groups. He was hard not to notice, tall with messy blonde hair and bright vermillion, his arms flexing under his tight black shirt. You hit it off surprisingly well.
“I’m Bakugo Katsuki.” 
His name came out more like a grunt than an introduction, but you smiled nonetheless. You introduced yourself, and soon you found  yourselves spending most of the night together. He told you that he was a hero, on his way to becoming the best pro hero in japan. You told him you were an actress, and though you didn’t know if you were going to be the best, you just wanted to be good.
“You’re gonna be the best damn actress. Number One.”
His bluntness wasn’t something you were used to. He wasn’t trying to smooze up to you, buy you a drink and try and get into your pants with stupid one liners. Sure he was a little gruff but that’s what kind of made him so nice to talk to. At the end of the night you still went home with him…
The bedroom door shot open, Bakugo using one hand to keep you pressed against him while the other reached out behind him to slam it shut. Your shirt was long gone left somewhere between his front door and the hallway, along with his shirt and jeans. Bakugo pushed you down onto the bed, pullining is lips from yours. He stared down at you, placing a hand softly on your cheek, a stark contrast to the rough feverish kisses you had been sharing only moments ago. You nipped playfully at his thumb then lightly bated his hand away. You pulled him towards you by his, coming face to face with the prominent bulge in is black boxer briefs. You tugged them down, his cock springing free from the confines. He was big, very. Not too long but incredibly thick, with two prominent veins running along the shaft. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, your thighs clenching. 
Bakugo let out a quiet grunt, placing a hand at the back of your head. He didn’t push, waiting for you to move first. You took him in your hand, giving his cock a few firm strokes before leaning down and tentatively giving the head a lick. His hand tightened around the back of your head, a deep groan coming from the back of his throat. You took that as the go ahead, guiding him into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the tip, your hand continuing to stroke what wasn’t in your mouth. You took him further into your mouth, sinking in about halfway before pulling back and sinking back down again. Bakugo’s hand guided you in a steady rhythm, cursing everytime you would take him fully in. 
“Ah, fuck baby. Yeah that’s it, fuck...just like that.” jis eyes fluttered shut, his head rolling back on his shoulders. 
You pulled back, wrapping your lips around the head and giving a firm suck, then pulling off completely. You sat back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and staring up at Bakugo. He stared back down at you, chest heaving and face flushed. 
Then he was on you in an instant, lips crashing against yours as he pushed you back onto the center of his bed. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs, finding their way around you back to the clasp of your bra. His hands fumbled only for a moment before you felt the cups loosen around your chest. You helped him pull it off, you skirt following soon after. His hands found their way to your chest, giving your breasts a firm squeeze. You moaned against his lips as he continued to massage your boobs, as he pulled away from your mouth, continuing his assault down your neck. He nipped at your pulse point, at the same time he flicked thumb against your right nipple, causing your eyes to roll sut with a soft moan. 
“Bakugo..” you whined. 
“Katsuki.” he whispered gruffly in your ear. 
“Hm?” you pulled back slightly, catching his gaze. 
“Call me Katsuki.” he spoke quietly, almost like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. You nodded, pulling him back in for another kiss. 
You stayed like that for a moment, just kissing and holding each other, Eventually, Bakugo’s hands started moving again. The tips of his finger grazed the hem of your panties, dipping in before pulling back. You whined, hips rolling into his touch, desperate for some kind of friction. He chuckled, fingers tracing along the sides of your hips then wrapping around the elastic and tugging them down in one swift movement. The fabric pooled around your ankles and you kicked them off, your panties landing somewhere off the side of the bed. Bakugo shifted his weight onto one hand, the other drifting to the space between your legs. The pads of his fingers were rough and calloused, different from his surprisingly soft touch. He traced down your slit circling arond yor entrance then grazing backup. His middle finger brushed against your clit and you let out a high pitched moan. He smirked , tapping his finger against the swollen nub. He began to rub firm circles against your clit and his lips slowly made their way down your chest. His lips latched onto your nipple as his fingers picked up speed. Your stomach tightened, you were panting and your skin felt so hot, Your senses were overwhelmed, the only thing keeping you grounded was him. He pulled off your chest, his lips continuing their trail down your torso. He nipped at your hip bones His tongue tracing along the skin in a pattern you could only assume was his name. It was all too much, yet not enough. You threaded your fingers in his hair, bringing him back up to meet your gaze.
“I need you insead me, now.” you panted,
Bakugo chuckled, “Easy there, princess.”
He reached over to the drawer in his nightstand, fumbling around until he pulled out a foil packet. He tore it open with his teeth, tossing the wrapper on his nightstand to be dealt with later. He pinched the tip of the condom, rolling it onto his length. Once the condom was secure, he settled back between your thighs, lifting one of your legs to rest on his hip. 
“You still good?”  he asked. You smiled up at him, nodding your head. Bakugo nodded in return then slowly pushed himself inside. He went slowly, stopping once he was in to let you adjust. You wrapped your other leg around his waist, giving him the ok to move. 
He didn’t hold back, pulling out and thrusting back in hard. His pace was unrelenting, in the absolute best way. He had your back arching and toe curling. Your nails raked down his back, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons in their wake.
“God, yes Katsuki! Don’t stop!” you cried out. You didn’t care if his neighbors heard. Afterall it was technically his birthday and he deserved to know if he was doing a good job. 
“That’s it princess, say my name. Let everyone in the building now whose fuking you this good” Bakugo groaned. He shifted up onto his knees, holding your thighs even tighter around his waist. The new angle allowing him to thrust in even deeper into you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot everytime. You threw your head back, a load gasp falling from your lips.His hand snaked up your thigh to your clit, resuming rubbing harsh circles against it. Your abdomen tightening, you were close, and he knew it.
“Fuck  baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock. You’re close aren’t you? Come on princess, come all over my cock. Be a good girl and come for me.” 
Like his words held some kind of magic, you wall clenched around him and you came. Crying his name out. With a few more harsh thrusts, Bakugo followed soon after. His head thrown back as he came with a loud groan, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Not that you cared. If he could make you come like that he could mark up your entire body if he wanted to. 
You both stayed there for a moment, the room quiet except for the sounds of panting. After a minute, Bakugo pulled out with a sharp hiss. Your legs fell limply at his sides as he got up to dispose of the condom in a trash can under the desk in the corner. You sat up, looking around for your bra and panties.
“Here” Bakugo grunted, tossing something onto the bed next to you. You looked down to see it was a grey t-shirt, his shirt. 
“Bathroom is the first door on the left,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards the door. 
You were shocked for a moment, fully ready to call a cab and do the walk of shame home. Not expecting him to ask you to spend the night. You slipped the shirt over your head, thanking him before slipping out the door. You didn’t spend long in there, cleaning up and then heading back to the bedroom. When you walked back in, Bakugo was already in bed with the bedside light on. One arm propped behind his head while he scrolled through his phone with the other. When he heard you come in, he looked up, quickly setting the phone down. 
“Hey.” you greeted, making your way over to the otherside of the bed, crawling under the covers. Bakugo didn’t say anything at first, almost as if he was trying to rack his brain for what he wanted to say next. 
“You like breakfast, right?”
You were taken aback slightly by his tone, he seemed almost nervous. Was this the same Bakugo who just fucked your brains out?
“Yeah, I like breakfast.”
Bakugo nodded at your answer, that being enough for him. Reaching over to the nightstand to turn the light off. 
“Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight, Katsuki.”
You settled into the covers, almost a little unsure of yourself. You were about to turn over, when you felt Bakugo lightly grab your arm. He pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around you and laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, curling into him and getting comfortable, bidding him goodnight one more time. 
True to his word, Bakugo took you out for breakfast the next day. After which he asked for your number. And when you kissed him goodbye in his car after he dropped you off at your place you couldn’t help but think that every moment spent with him was something wonderful.
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incomingalbatross · 3 years
Text
GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)
Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.
When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.
“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.
“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”
“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”
“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”
“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”
Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.
“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”
“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”
“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”
“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.
“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”
“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”
“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”
Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”
“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”
“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”
“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”
“You too.”
The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.
Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.
Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.
Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???
Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/
IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains
Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?
Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems
It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...
Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?
Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.
Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(
Same, same. TTYL :)
Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.
It was having a birthday without Mabel.
Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.
This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.
But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.
He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.
The ceiling didn’t answer.
---
Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).
Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.
“Happy birthday, Dipper!”
He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”
“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”
He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”
“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”
Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—
Wait, what?
The knocking repeated. On both their doors.
“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.
“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.
Dipper’s jaw dropped.
“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”
Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”
“But—what—”
“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”
“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”
“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”
With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?
Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”
“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.
“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”
“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”
“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”
“Are we!” Mabel crowed.
Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”
Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”
“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.
Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”
“YES!” Mabel shouted.
Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”
And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”
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jungshookz · 3 years
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miss cee pd i have a request!!!! how about e2l tae x y/n but they're in law school and they're always arguing and debating inside and outside of the classroom and tae being a little shit is like "you wanna kiss me so bad" and they both don't realise that there's mistletoe above them which jimin put because he was tired of watching them constantly argue and wanted to fiZzle the tension hehe and then they KITH,, i hope this isn't too long aha
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➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader
➺ genre; sfw!! enemies to lovers!! everyone’s in law school!! mostly y/n and taehyung bickering with each other and wanting to jump each other’s bones at the same time
➺ wordcount; 4.3k
➺ what to expect; “don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.”
                                     »»————- ❄ ————-««
“-now, the particular case study that was assigned to our group involves a civil action for medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter, which means that there are seven elements that we need to hit when we’re acting out our simulation next class,” you explain, flipping to the next page of your notebook with a flick of your wrist, “firstly, the client - jimin - must be interviewed so that we may determine the facts that surround the claim/prosecution. secondly, we need to draft witness statements - from hoseok and namjoon - and assess the legal efficacy of said statements. thirdly, we must assess the propriety of police interrogation from officer jungkook of the defend-”
you pause when a crumpled piece of paper lands by your left foot and you clear your throat quietly before stepping over it and continuing to pace back and forth at the front of the classroom
your eyes skim over your scribbled words as you try to relocate your place
ah!
here we are
“-ant, seokjin, through all transcripts along with the custody record. fourthly, we move on to assessing the reports that have been produced by the forensic experts-”
another balled-up piece of paper hits your foot and your head immediately snaps upwards from your book before you twist around to face the room
“would you cut that out, please?” you snap, already feeling your blood pressure starting to rise from a single glance at taehyung’s smug face
“what? i didn’t know how else to get your attention!” he hums, his arm dangling in the air with a floppy wrist, “my arm’s been up for the past three minutes, and you would’ve known that if you didn’t have your nose buried deep in your book.”
the reminder that you wouldn’t last a day in prison keeps you from lunging forward to wrap your hands around taehyung’s neck and you press your lips together to stop yourself from saying anything too crass
the last thing you need is for some professor to walk past the classroom while you’re cussing up a storm
your self-control has really been put to the test ever since you met taehyung
after all this time, you still don’t know what the guy’s deal is
he’s been a pain in your ass since day one
and for what??
for WHAT?!
at first you just thought that being a complete prick was just his weird version of being charismatic, but then you realised that he wasn’t being charming at all and he was really, truly, genuinely being a straight-up asshole
and, for the record, you’ve tried several times in the past to try to make things better but nothing’s worked
you said that he looked nice in his suit = he told you to stop looking at him like a piece of meat
you asked him how he did on the midterm exam = he told you that it was his right to keep that piece of information private and that you were being a snake by even asking about it
you said happy birthday to him = he said, and you quote, “yeah. it was until you got here.”
the point is, you’ve waved many white flags of surrender and extended many, many olive branches to no avail
at this point you’re pretty sure taehyung just gets off on being a jerk to you
and it’s not fair because it’s literally just you that he picks on constantly
at first you thought that maybe he was just threatened by your presence because you made it pretty clear from day one that you weren’t here to play around
powerful women are intimidating!
you totally get it.
…but then you overheard him offering rosé some studying tips and you even saw him help wendy carry her books for her and everyone knows that rosé and wendy are two of the smartest girls in the class, so why wasn’t he threatened by them?
...
the point is, he doesn’t treat anyone else in the class like this except for you and you can’t seem to figure out why!
what makes it even more frustrating is the fact that his stupid face is very nice to look at, so whenever he’s being mean to you, your dumb girl hormones drown out the sound of his rich, honey-like voice and place floating pink hearts around his head instead
“i’m so sorry i wasn’t paying attention to you, mr. kim.” you force out before gesturing to the notebook cradled in the crook of your arm, “see, all my notes are in here and i’m just trying to make sure that i don’t miss out on any details,” you point out, “and… i thought i said to save your questions for the end, did i not?”
“did you? i guess i wasn’t listening. sorry, sweetheart.” taehyung chirps, folding his arms and leaning forward on his desk, “anyway- don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you get to play the hotshot lawyer in this simulation?”
“everyone gets a turn to be the lawyer - last week, it was jungkook. this week, it’s me. everyone gets a shot to play the hotshot lawyer because our roles rotate.” you shake your head in disagreement, “how am i being unfair?”
“you assigned yourself, like, the coolest case study.” taehyung scoffs, leaning back against his seat and crossing his arms, “i mean… medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter?” his left brow arches before he turns his head slightly, “jungkook, what was your case study on again?”
“my client parked in a no-parking zone!” jungkook beams, nodding to himself, “i didn’t mind getting that case, though. it was actually pretty fu-”
“you hear that, y/n?” taehyung turns his head back to face you before gesturing behind him, “jungkook also thinks his case was boring as hell- his client parked in a no-parking zone and you get to deal with corrupt doctors and accidentally-but-not-really-accidentally-run-over-by-a-car pedestrians.”
your jaw clenches in frustration and you resist the urge to take a heel off and bash taehyung’s skull in with it
being forced to wear nice shoes to school would be so much better if you were allowed to commit cold-blooded murder with them
“well, that was last week’s case, so even if jungkook thought it was boring…” you pause, turning to set your notebook down on the front desk before twisting back around, “he’s already had his turn. and now it’s my turn!”
“you could’ve given me this case.”
“oh, please.” you snort, rolling your eyes before leaning against the front desk, “you wouldn’t have been able to handle a case this big. this has my name written all over it.”
taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes, “the only reason why it has your name written all over it was because you grabbed it with your grubby little raccoon hands before anyone else had the chance to-”
“i-!” you pinch the bridge of your nose before letting out a laugh of disbelief, “oh my god, i refuse to have this conversation with you again, taehyung- for the last time, it was a first-come-first-serve situation, and you probably could’ve gotten this case if you weren’t so busy watching netflix in class-”
“you guys-” namjoon clears his throat, his shoulders drooping when the two of you ignore him, “…never mind.”
this always happens
you guys somehow always find something to argue about no matter what
in fact, namjoon’s convinced that you guys could sit in complete and utter silence and still find something to fight over
“how long do you think the argument will last this time?” yoongi leans over, “i bet you ten bucks it’ll last longer than last week’s fight.”
“no way! last week’s fight was half an hour long-” hoseok chimes in, “…they can’t possibly argue for longer than thirty minutes… can they?”
“remember that time they fought over a sandwich?” jungkook sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist, “that was a forty minute argument.”
“they fought over a sandwich?” jimin frowns, turning to glance towards the front, “what was there to even argue about??”
“y/n said that the spread was dijon mustard and taehyung said it was horseradish mustard,” seokjin purses his lips, “…i actually ordered the same sandwich and i’m pretty sure it was just regular ol’ yellow mustard… but i’m too afraid to tell either of them they’re wrong about it.”
“oh my god-” jimin scoffs, “forty minutes arguing about mustard?? really??”
“yep! i even recorded the whole thing just because it’s actually pretty interesting listening to two people scream about mustard so passionately for so long,” jungkook pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the rest of the boys scooting in closer to his desk, “by the time we finish watching the video, they’ll… probably be done arguing with each other. maybe.”
“-ow thick is your skull, taehyung? were you dropped on your head as a baby??” you scowl, “if i was a teacher’s pet like you say i am, then i would’ve sweet-talked my way out of being in a group with you. also, you know what? i wasn’t going to bring this up, but the only reason why we’re here during christmas break is because it was your idea to practice during the holidays-”
“yeah! you get to practice your big show in a huge, empty classroom without getting nervous about someone overhearing you practice speaking in your dumb, professional lawyer voice-” taehyung gestures around at the spacious atmosphere, “if this is your way of being thankful to me, you have an awfully funny way of showing it-”
“do you know what i could be doing right now if i wasn’t here?” you scowl, placing your hands on your hips as you glare at taehyung
“hm, let me think…” he hums, leaning back against his chair before kicking his legs up onto his desk, “bending over and trying desperately to pull the fat stick out of your ass?”
jimin sits up a little straighter as he peers over the top of namjoon and seokjin’s heads to check and see if you and taehyung are done arguing yet
your ears are turning red and there’s an animalistic, frenzied look behind your eyes, so... nope. definitely not done yet.
after all this time, he still doesn’t know why you guys fight the way that you do
it’s like you enjoy pushing each other’s buttons and irritating each other until one of you inevitably snaps (you’re usually the first one to fall off the rocker because taehyung is alarmingly good at being irritating)
“ooh, hold on-” jungkook grins, pointing to the screen before whacking jimin’s arm in rapid smacks, “my favourite part is coming up, you have to pay attention-”
jimin looks away from you two and back down at the screen
“-the low acidity liquid gives dijon mustard that intensified heat and the classic pungent flavour which is very obvious in this sandwich!” you exclaim, peeling the top slice of bread off to reveal the inside, “and look at that colour! that is literally dijon mustard-”
“okay, fine! it’s dijon mustard.” taehyung responds while inspecting his nail beds
“no, you’re not listening to- wait… did you just agree with me?”
“yeah!” he sighs, crossing his arms, “the mustard used in your sandwich is dijon mustard. and also, the sky is green-”
“oh my god, you piece of-!”
jimin looks up again when he hears your voice rise a couple of octaves
this is the part of the argument when your ‘i’m-fine-don’t-touch-me-I’M-FINE’ voice comes out
“wow! you are-” you laugh, shaking your head as you lean down and place your hands flat on the surface of taehyung’s desk “you really are something else, kim taehyung. i-!”
you let out a yelp of surprise when taehyung suddenly reaches over and yanks at a section of your hair
“ow!” you whack his hand away before flicking your hair over your shoulder, “wha- what the hell was that for?!”
taehyung doesn’t flinch at your aggressive tone and he looks up at you, completely unfazed, before giving a half-hearted shrug
“it was hanging, like, right in front of me. i couldn’t not pull on it.”
“well, your tie is right there but you don’t see me reaching over and pulling on it to strangle you because it’s right in front of me-”
“oh, threatening to choke me, are we?” taehyung hums, “i’m suddenly feeling very unsafe. should i get one of the guys to call campus security for my protection, miss y/n?”
“do you guys think we should break things off?” seokjin glances over his shoulder at the escalating scene, “ideally, i’d like for this to not turn into a how to get away with murder scenario…”
jimin narrows his eyes slightly as the gears click-click-click away in his head, leaning back against his seat and reaching up to tap at his chin
there’s something about this situation that’s reminding him of something but he can’t quite put his finger on it
“oh my god, you are such a child-!”
jimin’s eyes suddenly widen in realization, a lightbulb appearing at the top of his head
!
does taehyung like y/n?
...
oh, wow
taehyung has a full-blown crush on you!
how could he not have noticed this before?!
taehyung is literally the bratty little boy pulling on your pigtails because he doesn’t know how else to get your attention on this playground!
a comment from a former conversation with you briefly flits through jimin’s mind as he continues staring at the two of you in awe
he doesn’t remember how exactly you guys started talking about it, but he does remember you saying these words to him:
“i mean… yeah. of course i think taehyung’s attractive. maybe in another universe where he’s not bullying me 24/7, i would be more open to admitting to myself that i might have a slight crush- i-i mean, i- what did we say we were going to get for lunch today?? sandwiches?? we should get sandwiches, the place is right here-”
how could he have forgotten you said that to him?!
it’s like he finally has his hands on the missing puzzle piece... and it’s up to him to finish this puzzle!
“i have a plan.” jimin whispers to himself before reaching over to grab onto jungkook’s wrist, “i know what i have to do!”
“huh?” jungkook frowns in confusion, pausing the video before looking over at him, “what are you talking about?”
“just-” jimin gets up from his seat quickly, the chair screeching against the floor, “just make sure they don’t stop arguing with each other while i’m gone because i might take a while to find what i need-”
“you know, i don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” yoongi snorts, everyone looking towards the front to see you glaring at taehyung like you want to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it raw, “check out that throbbing vein in y/n’s forehead.”
“forget about her forehead vein-” jungkook shakes his head, “has no one else noticed how tightly taehyung clenches his asscheeks whenever he’s pissed? those trousers do not hide anything.”
everyone’s eyes immediately gravitate down to taehyung’s ass, hoseok and seokjin bursting into giggles at the sight
“what the fuck is your problem?!” you scream, taehyung’s eyes widening at your sudden outburst, “you’ve treated me like shit from day one and i’ve literally done nothing wrong!”
“okay! i think we should all just take a step back and take a deep breath…” namjoon gets up from his seat slowly, “it’s getting a little intense-“
“nothing wrong?! oh yeah, because you’re little miss perfect-” taehyung spits out, “don’t play dumb, you know exactly what you did!”
“what did i-!” you throw your hands up into the air, “please, i am begging you to tell me what the horrible thing is that i did that made you decide i was public enemy number one-”
“i heard you talking shit about me at the very beginning of the semester when you didn’t even know me! we’d never met and you didn’t even bother trying to get to know me before you formed your own opinion of me based on the way i looked-” taehyung snaps, “you said that i looked like an entitled, obnoxious frat-boy who didn’t even know left from right and only made it to law school because his daddy gave the school a generous donation- so if we’re really going to talk about who the real asshole is in this room, i would suggest re-evaluating-”
you feel the blood drain from your face at the reminder of what you said about taehyung on the first day of class
...oh.
...
okay, yeah, you... might have said that stuff, but it was only because the other people you were sitting with at the time said stuff like that and... and you were so desperate to find a group of cool law-school friends that you were totally willing to say and do anything they wanted you to do or say!
it obviously didn’t work because you don’t sit with them anymore, so...
yeah, it was a bad move to talk shit about taehyung like that without even having spoken one word to him, but if this proves anything... it’s that peer pressure is dangerous!
“well, why didn’t you just-” you stammer, feeling your face starting to heat up from embarrassment, “why didn’t you just tell me about this earlier? we could’ve nipped it right in the bud-”
“i much prefer the bullying because the feeling i get after seeing the defeat in your eyes is equivalent to a full-body orgasm-”
“oh my god, you sick freak-”
“uh, you guys-” namjoon cuts in again, holding his finger up, “can i just s-”
“okay, fine!” you raise your hands in surrender, “i’m sorry, alright? i’m really sorry. what i said about you was shitty, but i don’t see how bullying me for months on end was a good solution-”
“can you two shut u-”
“oh, i never said it was a good solution, y/n,” taehyung purses his lips, “like i said - i just did it because it was fun-”
“guys, if i could just get one word in-”
“do you even realize how psychotic you sound right no-”
“HEY!” namjoon suddenly bellows, you and taehyung jumping and clamming up immediately in alarm
“what??” the two of you ask at the same time, pausing to glare at each other for a split second before looking back over at namjoon
“i…” he trails off, his eyes flickering upwards, “…know this is kind of awkward timing, but…”
you and taehyung look up simultaneously, your eyes widening to see a dinky little shrub of... mistletoe? taped at the end of a meter stick
oh no 
oh hell no
“kiss first, and then you can apologise for what was obviously a huge misunderstanding and you can apologise for being a huge prick later - pucker up, lovebirds!” jimin chirps, waving the stick a little and watching your eyes go side to side like a ping-pong ball, “don’t be shy! also, i know the mistletoe looks like a clump of grass that i tied a red ribbon around- just don’t look too closely at it-”
“ha!” you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, “no way! i don’t know what you people think is going on here, but it’s certainly not that- you can’t just dangle a plant over my head and force me to kiss him-”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” taehyung scoffs in offence, tilting his head upwards slightly, “anyone would be honoured to be under the mistletoe with me!”
“yeah. anyone out of their mind.”
“aw, c’mon, you guys…” hoseok pushes his bottom lip out in a pout before clasping his hands together, “kiss and make up! we all know that’s how it works. let the christmas spirit take over your bodies and fuel your weird hate-love for each othe-”
“the sooner you two kiss and make out, the sooner i can get the hell out of here,” yoongi interrupts, snapping his fingers, “c’mon! plant a fat one on each other!”
“the only reason why y/n’s getting whiney about it because she knows she’ll fall in love with me the moment she kisses me.” taehyung suddenly speaks up and you immediately look back down at him with a glare
fall in love????
with him????
it’s not going to take a single kiss to fall in love with taehyung - it’s going to take intensive exposure therapy to fall in love with him!
“don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.” you growl, smacking your hands down on taehyung’s desk so violently that it rattles beneath you
“now, now. there’s no need to lie…” taehyung chuckles lightly as he pushes his seat back slightly and rises to his feet
“i’m not lying! i don’t want to kiss you!”
“do too!”
“do not!”
“do TOO!”
“do NOT!”
“you know, you just sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t want to kiss me-”
“you’re the one who keeps pushing it-” you jab a finger into his chest, “maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me!”
“you think i wanna kiss you?!” taehyung laughs, flicking your hand away from him, “now look who the delusional one is!”
“i thought this was supposed to fix the arguing?” seokjin mutters under his breath, jungkook offering him a shrug while keeping his eyes glued on you and taehyung
he was running out of things to watch on netflix and this makes far better entertainment
the only thing that would make this better was if you and taehyung had at it in a grimy boxing ring half-naked
“i can’t be the only one thinking that all of this could be easily fixed if they just boned each other.” jungkook snorts, the other boys turning to look at him, “…what??”
“i wouldn’t kiss you even if you were the last man on earth.” you snarl, your voice wavering slightly
“you really expect me to believe that?” taehyung tilts his head, “don’t think i didn’t catch the way your eyes just flickered down to my lips, y/n...”
you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest when he places his hands flat on the desk as well, the tips of his fingers brushing over yours
at this proximity, the little voice in the back of your head can’t help but point out how pretty taehyung’s eyes are... and how nice he smells... and how soft his lips look...
...do you wanna kiss him?
oh, god
do you wanna kiss kim taehyung?!
no, you don’t
yes, you do
what??
WHAT?? 
“you wanna kiss me so bad, and you know it, y/l/n.” taehyung taunts, leaning forward just a little more
at this point, your faces are merely an inch away from each other’s and it wouldn’t take much effort to just lean in and… you know.
“i hate you.”
“if you hated me so much, then you wouldn’t be making such a big deal over silly little mistletoe now, would you?” taehyung smirks, pulling away before making his way around the desk so that he can get closer to you, “you like me but you’re too much of a wimp to admit it!”
“i like you?!” you gawk, “more like you like me!”
“okay-” jimin huffs, lowering the stick before taking a step back, “i really thought this was going to work, but my arms are getting tired, so if you two aren’t going to kiss, then i- oh-” his eyes widen in surprise when you and taehyung are suddenly lunging at each other not a second later, your hands cupping his cheeks and his hands gripping your waist as you kiss far more feverishly than he thought you two would
oh
oh my
“see, what’d i say? sexual tension!” jungkook kisses his teeth, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms, “all that pent-up energy from arguing has led to this beautiful moment-”
“you’re an- mm- you’re an awful kisser, by the way-” taehyung mutters against your mouth, lips turning up in a boyish grin when you retaliate by shoving at his chest
“so are you!” you pull away only for taehyung to pull you right back in to press his mouth against yours again, “’m hating ehvery minute of this-”
“ah… isn’t young love sweet?” hoseok coos, jumping in his seat when taehyung suddenly shoves you up against the front desk with a thud, “so passionate!”
“okay, we’re just going to-” namjoon gets up from his seat gesturing for the boys to get up as well, “we’re happy to see that the argument has been settled!”
he hurries everyone to the front door and turns to glance over his shoulder, “when you guys are done, just… let us know! we’re going to pop over to starbucks for some hot chocolate. so... text one of us. or call! or you could use snapchat- it’s up to you, really-!”
namjoon doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before yoongi’s yanking his arm and pulling him backwards, reaching over to slam the door shut
a moment of silence goes by in which everyone takes a second to process what exactly just happened
“take your shirt off-”
“you take yours off first!”
“i... can’t tell if my plan was a success or a failure.” jimin mutters to himself, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck
“hey, if it makes you feel any better, at least they aren’t arguing with each other anymore!” jungkook cheers, clapping his hands quietly, “it’s a christmas miracle!”
❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄
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koalasandcats · 4 months
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CC's Weekend Bash Day 3:
For some reason was having trouble writing this one, but was able to pick it up to submit it on time! I don't see this as canon in the games yet I had fun writing it
Prompt: Betrayal
TW: Child Murder (Had to include it someday), Emotional Abuse, Blood, Knife...{Feel free to tell me if I missed some!}
(Yeah this one is darker than the ones I've made before. I wanted to try out writing murder for funsies! )
@and-stir-the-stars
(
Betrayal
Evan Afton looked out the window as big, fat raindrops poured down. He was strapped tightly in his car seat as he clutched fredbear in his arms. The stench of whiskey filled the car from his father making Evan’s nose wrinkle.
“How was Charlotte’s birthday Evan?” William pressed looking up from behind the wheel for a minute glancing at his youngest son. Evan’s father’s eyes seemed inquisitive, as if genuinely curious. 
“It was okay…” Evan started confused on his father’s sudden curiosity on the party. William hated birthday parties only seeing them as ‘good business’. Evan and his siblings had never been allowed to attend one before today, but he guessed Charlie and Sammy’s birthday was special. “Charlie was going taking out the trash though, I wish I got to say goodbye.”  Evan finished
Evan paused as they drove up the  dark, damp alley to the back of Fredbear’s diner, clutching his plush closer. Mikey and his friends had locked him out the back like this before, and he never wanted to come back here again
“I thought we were going-”
“Quiet, I have business to do.” William snapped, opening the door carrying something with him. Evan pressed his nose against the car’s glass watching his father go to the back door. 
Charlie Emily was there, dressed in her green party dress drenched in the rain. Fresh  tears fell from her face as she glanced up in hope.
“Uncle Will!” She cheered as Evan let out a sigh of relief. His father was just going to help Charlie out. Evan unbuckled his seatbelt opening the door to wave out to Charlie. 
His father blocked his view of friend though, pulling a thin, sharp blade out of his pocket, like the ones he used to cut vegetables.
Evan closed his eyes, terrified from the piercing scream that followed. The scream reminded him of the slasher movies Mikey loved watching when he thought no one was watching. Or the screams of other kids being spooked on Halloween. Except this one felt more authentic, and more fleshed out. 
The next few moments for Evan were a blur of red and white. His friend’s green dress turned crimson in the rain, and the blade grew slicker with red. His father’s shirt was stained, like in the early days of Freddy’s when he and Henry made the pizza by hand. 
His friend’s glossy eyes looked over at him, as if pleading for his help. Crimson liquid dripped out of a part of Charlie’s dress, the same dress she was dancing in just an hour ago. Evan froze feeling bile rise up into his throat. 
“Charlie?” He whispered to the wind. 
William turned to look at his son, trudging back to the car with bloodied hands. Evan paused at the car door, looking at Charlotte Emily. 
“Get back in.” William snapped at his son, pointing a reddened finger at him. Evan felt his heart sink as he climbed back into his seat buckling in. He stared at his father with wide gaping eyes, hearing his heart pound in his ears. William entered the driver’s seat putting a hand through his hair before turning back to Evan.
“You will tell nobody. You hear me!?! You’re just as bad as me. You watched her die, you didn’t even try to help.” William snickered, clutching onto the wheel before pressing down on the pedal.
“If you tell anybody, they’ll blame you as well. The baby who sat and watched,” William continued. Evan felt hot tears stream down his face as he held Fredbear tighter.
“Okay…” He mumbled back. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll be good,” He stuttered. William only glanced back from the wheel. 
“Good Evan. I’m glad we’re on the same foot.” William replied coldly driving through the whipping rain. Evan felt a heavy feeling rest in his gut. His friend was dead, and all he did was help. 
A twinge of guilt filled Evan’s mind as a dark understanding filled his body. He betrayed her, and was no better than his own father.
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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6
Positive
Cult girl and Hannibal find a way to turn a life-altering mistake to their favor.
@wisesandwichshark
Trigger warnings: accidental pregnancy, discussion of abortion, adoption, slight emetophobia
Another week passed and the 'hangover' didn't subside. Then a third week passed, so you had to give up the façade and just admit you were sick. Hannibal was smugly concerned, but not alarmed. It paid to have a doctor for a fiancé. Studying could be done from bed and you needed to be in perfect working order to burn down your grandmother's country club and fully enjoy it.
Hannibal wasn't so much of a hypochondriac that he denied you affection while bed-ridden. That, or he didn't believe what you had was contagious. Whatever it was.
It wasn't until you woke up late, just days before the start of the new semester, that you discovered. You hobbled blindly to the bathroom to take your medicine. You were fully prepared to drop to your knees and vomit in the toilet and you wanted nothing more than to return to bed and slip back into sweet unconsciousness. Not even microdosing meth could keep you awake.
You slid your birth control packet out of its sleeve. You were halfway through the green placebo pills, so you were sure that didn't help how miserable you felt. This period sure had a hell of a build-up.
That's when a number caught your eye.
It was a number you weren't even previously aware existed. A date on your birth control packet. Dated three months prior.
You weren't lucid enough to comprehend what it meant, but once it hit you, you spit the pill into the sink.
Expired. You thought. How the fuck do pills expire?
No. No. No. No.
"[F/N]?" Hannibal said. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." You called back. "I... just need to take a shower."
You turned the faucet on. It was a bad lie and he would figure it out eventually, but you couldn't involve him. Not yet. You needed a minute alone to think.
You found the pregnancy test you stashed under the sink all those years ago. You double-checked the lock, then began the test. There was no romantic or even palatable way to describe the process of peeing on a stick, quietly as possible, to avoid your frankly terrifying fiancé's notice. Once it was done, you wrapped the still-loading test in toilet paper and shoved it back under the sink.
You had no idea how long it would take to give you a result. Or if waiting four years to use it would give you a false result. There was so much you didn't know.
You jumped into the shower and washed up, trying to push all thoughts of panic out of your head. It didn't work. You went right into bury-the-body mode. A fall down the stairs could best pass for an accident, but had the unintended consequences of severe bodily harm. You wondered if those special herbal teas actually worked and where you'd find one. Or, instead of investing in gimmicky, pseudo-scientific abortion teas or throwing yourself down a flight of stairs, you could just talk to him.
You sat on the bathroom floor in a towel for what felt like hours, holding the mummified pregnancy test between your fingers. It took all your strength to rip through the tissue paper and confirm what you already knew.
A big, obnoxious pink plus sign. Almost like it was rubbing it in.
Your head was screaming just talk to him. He was your goddamn fiancé. The man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. But you couldn't tell him. Not after what he said at the country club.
"Hannibal?" You called out, voice weak. "Can you come here, please?"
He opened the bathroom door to find you huddled against the sink wearing nothing but a towel. It was a sight that would make anyone freak out.
"My god, [F/N]." He took a knee beside you. "Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?"
You gestured to the pregnancy test at your side. You hugged your knees into your chest and waited for him to process everything.
He looked at you with an unreadable expression. "I thought you were on birth control?"
You covered your face with your hands. "I did too. Nobody told me that the pills actually expire."
Then came the question that you were dreading.
"What do you want to do?"
That was why you were hesitant to tell him. Not because he would try to make a decision for you, but because he wouldn't.
"I don't know." You blurted out. "What do you want to do?"
Hannibal raised his eyebrows. "You know I can't tell you that. You need to decide for yourself."
"That's what I was afraid you were going to say." You threw your head back in exasperation. "I'm just asking for a little direction. You said you definitely wanted to have kids-"
"Not like this." He cut you off. "Not when it would derail your entire career.” 
“Look, you know I was on the fence about having kids at all.” You rambled, just trying to collect your thoughts. “But then you described what you wanted for us and it just sounded so nice.” 
“Darling, I am begging you,” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Please, decide for yourself and only yourself.” 
“I’m trying!” You objected. “I just need a second to think.” 
“Don’t think, just answer.” He implored. “What do you want to do?” 
“I want to get an abortion.” You blurted out before slapping your hand over your mouth. 
“Was that really so hard to say?” Hannibal asked, voice broken with relief. Relief of what, you couldn’t place. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him. “It was, a little.” 
“Why?” He tilted his head curiously. “And please don’t say it was because of me.” 
“I don’t know.” You shrugged, hiding your face again. “I just learned I was pregnant, like, five minutes ago. I shouldn’t be expected to make a choice this massive without at least ten minutes to think about it.” 
“Do you really want to get an abortion?” He asked. 
Your voice wobbled with uncertainty. “No... yes?” 
“I see.” He said, as if this were just a point of academic curiosity that didn’t involve him whatsoever. “Is there a part of you, no matter how small, that wants to see the pregnancy to term?” 
“Well, yeah. Thus the basis of my uncertainty.” You threw your hands up. “But I also know it’s insanely unrealistic to think I could just speedrun my last two years of school and however long it takes to establish a career just to get to the domestic bliss.”
“You would do good to not expect motherhood to be a blissful retirement plan, love." Hannibal gently scorned. "Parenting takes just as much commitment as your studies. Likely more."
"I know." You bashed your palms against your forehead. "I said it was unrealistic, didn't I? Look, I just don't foresee any worthwhile outcomes if I carry this pregnancy to term. Even to put it up for adoption just seems selfish. Why bring a kid into the world just to set them up for a shitty life?"
Hannibal paused, and looked off into the distance pensively.
"If you could forgive me a hypothetical," He began. "What if we could guarantee them a wonderful life?"
"Are we talking philosophy, or do you have an actual suggestion?" You probed.
"A bit of both, depending on where your mind takes you." He smirked as if he were about to say something very clever. "What if Beatrice [L/N]'s estate made sure our child had a safe, comfortable upbringing? With a weighty college trust fund in their name, naturally."
You couldn't tell if this was brilliant or insane. It all depended on how 'hypothetical' the whole situation really was. Either way, you were interested.
"Go on." You urged, letting the idea slither into your mind.
"There's nothing in the will that specifically states we must raise the child ourselves." He recounted. "Only that it must be of blood descent."
You hadn't considered that, but it made sense once you heard it out loud. Your grandmother had many skills to make her a sharp manipulator, but her inattention to detail was always her downfall.
“Forty-five million extra dollars in the bank would be nice.” You said. You were humoring him at first, but when you said it out loud, it rang true. 
“Forty-five is drops in the bucket compared to what we can get from her property.” He added. “The house and the golf course.” 
You put your hand on your chin, actually, seriously considering it. You were on the precipice of inheriting more money than you could possibly spend in one lifetime. Money that could make so many problems go away overnight. Money you could hand out to anyone you wanted to, just to make their lives a little easier. You pictured yourself giving waitstaff six-figure tips, or handing a hundred dollar bill to someone asking for change on the street. You could erase your best friend's college debt as a birthday present. Get Hannibal a proper gift. All with money you bled out of your abusers.
It was divine justice. All at the price of nine months of your life.
"So..." Your voice trailed off. "We just need to keep this thing alive for the next nine months..."
"We can find an adoptive family in that time." Hannibal nodded along. "And we can set up a college fund for the child to be given to them on their 18th birthday."
"And we could make the adoption open, in case the child ever wants to meet us." You said.
"Right." He agreed. "Allowing the option for an adoptee to meet their biological parents is much better for their mental health and adjustment."
You covered your mouth with your hand, only to hide your excitement. "I take it back, I'm starting to see a positive outcome."
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