#sorry for being in such a bad and dark place yesterday

[m00ncrabcrap]

I've only been at work for 2.5 hours and I'm already completely exhausted. Those children with just two educators are too much to handle. It's extremely exhausting, physically and mentally. I've just read her message and it makes me hold my head up higher. I don't really wanna die. It would just be the simplest solution. I know I'm strong. I know I want to be alive. But at the moment... It's just barely possible to stand firm. I know the most draining is my workplace. It's a vicious circle. Because of work, I simply don't have the energy to look for a new job. What should I do? Only the private life alone could take all my energy but I have to work...

[hitomisuzuya]

yandere!hybrid scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. somnophilia. drugging. biting/marking. masturbation/cumming on. desperate scaramouche. this is kinda dark.

here ya go, guys. there will be another part to this. i know i repeat somnophilia here, but this is for build up.

scaramouche is getting desperate. and things have just gotten a whole lot worse for him. times two. yesterday, he started to smell that you are ovulating. it didn't help that always smell so fucking good all the time. now it suffocates him twice as much.

and on top of that, you are going out tomorrow night on a dinner meeting. a dinner meeting that includes two other men coworkers coming. he nearly pitched a fit about it until you told him a pay raise is being discussed.

god, he couldn't fucking stand the thought of you being near two other men. near two other men fucking ovulating. the thought made his blood boil. he even casually mentioned how stupid it for someone to date their coworkers when it was a topic on tv last night, saying it just to bait you into saying whether you would date a coworker or not.

when you said you wouldn't, that wasn't a can of worms that you would ever want, it didn't make him feel better.

scaramouche has to fucking do something before you went to your important dinner meeting tomorrow night. something, anything to mark his territory. even though you have no idea how he felt about you, you are his mate, damn it!

they have to know you belong to him.

you wanted to homemake him something for dinner since you felt bad about leaving him alone. when you went to the store, scaramouche started preparing things. it was easy for him to put a hat over his ears and go into town.

he headed to a more seedier part of town, and it didn't take him long to find someone who could sell him a sedative. now all he has to do is offer to make you a drink, a peace offering for being such a high strung asshole lately. you even told him multiple he is good at mixing drinks for you.

unseen by you, he would slip the sedative into your drink. the fruity tasting alcohol would easily cover up any taste the sedative would leave.

once he handed you your drink, he would lazily lounge around on the couch, being unsuspecting until you felt drowsy enough to go upstairs to bed. he could hear the slur in your words, see the choppiness in your steps as you went upstairs. the sedative is doing its job. you were going to sleep nice and deep all night.

the two hours he waited before going upstairs felt like brutal torture. he could smell you all the way downstairs.

scaramouche has gotten quite good at easing your bedroom door open and closed without a sound. now in his human form, he crawls on your bed. he smirks seeing everything has fallen so easily into place.

all of it, including anticipating that the mix of alcohol and the sedative would make you feel too warm. he knows you hate being too warm. and here you are, sleeping topless and in panties he wants to shred off of you to get at your sweet smelling cunt.

"i hate what you have done to me, you know," he whispers, leaning down to inhale the scent of your soft, pullable looking hair. hair he would like to grab a handful and pull your head back, biting into your neck while he fucks your brains out from behind.

"i am not sorry this time, this is necessary," he moves down to your neck, sighing. "it should be considered a crime for how long i have left this delicate skin unmarked," you are going to look twice as beautiful with his bruise of ownership adoring your neck.

drawing in a shaky breath, your scent overwhelms him as he leans down. his tongue snakes out to lick your pulse, testing how deep you really are sleeping. licking his lips, he scoops a fold of skin into his mouth when you didn't even stir.

he wonders if he can make you squirm, and soak your panties while you slept. his mouth sucks on the fold of skin, that one thought racing in his mind. swallowing a groan, he reaches down between your legs, brushing his knuckles across your clit outside your panties.

after a few long moments, he abruptly lifts his head. he has to stop himself before he bit too terribly hard. his eyes drift down to your breasts. "it's going to be a pleasure to watch your pretty tits bounce while i fuck you," his cock pulses harder swirling his tongue around and around your nipple.

he groans feeling your panties start to dampen under his knuckle. the primal urge to make you wetter consumes him as your scent overwhelms him more. he scoops your nipple into his mouth to suck on.

he is more than happy to indulge you in playing with your nipples.

his tongue tingles as your nipple hardens. "fuck, i love that i am making you wet," he whispers shakily, panting a little as he slowly swirls the tip of his tongue around your nipple.

scaramouche knows he is indulging himself way too much. he is just one step short of pushing your panties aside and just burying his cock inside you right then. your collarbone catches his eye.

"just in case," he murmurs, moving his head up to your collarbone, "they have to know you belong to me. i told you, i am a pretty bad guy," your skin tastes way too good to him, and it makes him suddenly wonder if your blood would taste just as sweet.

"fuck, i can't take it anymore," he groans quietly as he bites down on your collarbone. reluctantly taking his hand off your panties, he hastily reaches down to unbutton his jeans. it's such a relief for him to release his unbearably hard cock from its confines.

his mouth sucks and bites another bruise to blossom your skin, his hand desperately fisting his cock as it throbs. "let me breed you, please," he swallows a quiet, frustrated whimper, "i don't know how much longer i can take this shit."

he releases your skin before he bites too hard, letting out a soft moan as cum spurts onto your chest. he fists his cock until it's empty, admiring the developing bruises.

once he put his cock back in his pants, he grabs a towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before curling up to sleep on your chest in his cat form.

[mariasont]

dangerous currents

sharing a wall with hotch means resorting to a midnight swim, you weren't expecting him to join you

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, midnight swim, reader alluding to some naughty thoughts, hotch accidentally grabs readers ass prompt: here wc: 1.2k

Honestly, you don’t recall consciously deciding to go swimming. One minute you’re wrestling with sheets that somehow manage to be both itchy and disappointingly thin, trapped in the endless loop of your overly chatty brain, and the next you’re thigh-deep in moonlit waves, saltwater lapping around you like a peace offering for your misery.

If you’re being brutally honest (and lately, brutal honesty seems to be your new best friend), your insomnia might have something, just a smidge, to do with Hotch lying just inches away, separated by drywall and what might as well be actual paper for insulation.

Your hearing has leveled up overnight, picking up every breath, every toss and turn from his side. 

It feels wrong, intrusive even, but also exhilaratingly intimate.

Which explains why, at two in the morning, you’re out here, counting on saltwater to settle your overactive mind and extinguish the stubborn heat flooding your face.

You’re mid-float when your instincts snap you upright, adrenaline spiking so fast you almost inhale a lungful of ocean.

There’s a shadow on the shoreline.

But then it steps forward, moonlight carving out the unmistakable angles of a handsome face that sends your stomach tumbling into your feet for a different but no less stressful reason.

Hotch.

You could laugh or cry, but instead, you quietly make your way towards the shore, waves breaking around your ankles.

“You scared me half to death,” you mumble, hugging your arms around your chilled body and feeling every bit like a reckless kid who’s just disappointed the one person she desperately wanted to impress.

“Do you know how unsafe it is to swim alone at night?” His lips press into a straight line. “Anything could’ve happened, and none of us would have any idea.”

“Sorry,” you exhale, sincerity tangled up with humiliation as your gaze flickers upward through wet lashes. 

You mean it. Of course you do — he looks worried, and that worry always seems worse when it’s aimed directly at you.

Hotch studies you for a second, then asks, “Do you plan on coming inside anytime soon?”

Going inside would be simpler. Easier. You could neatly sidestep this entire messy situation.

But the moment you close the door behind you, it’s back to square one — too quiet, too dark, thoughts screaming at you in surround sound.

A single creak of his bed, and suddenly you’re in dangerous territory. What if he sleeps shirtless? Or in boxers? What if that sound he just made is the result of an indecent dream?

And then, somehow, you are the indecent one, palms tingling with a restless need that used to feel rare but lately shows up with frustrating frequency.

All because of him.

“I think I’ll stay out for a little longer,” you say, tossing a forced shrug. “The ocean hasn’t tried to kill me yet, so I figure we’re on decent terms.” 

Hotch arches a brow at that, clearly unamused. He glances at the ocean, then back to you, a silent calculation taking place behind dark eyes.

Then, without warning, he grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, folding it once before tossing it onto the sand.

“What are you doing?”

He gives you a faint, reckless half-smile. “Making a bad decision.”

You laugh, more out of shock than anything else.

He steps toward the water, shirtless, and suddenly every thought you’ve ever had vacates your head.

Sure, yesterday you’d seen him on the beach, but that was distant and crowded, shielded by sunglasses and casual team conversation. 

Here, now, it’s just you, him, and the unsparing glow of moonlight revealing every agonizing thing you absolutely shouldn't notice. Like the dark dusting of chest hair, the disciplined sculpt of muscle across his torso, the line of hair drawing your gaze lower, lower —

You swallow roughly, stepping deeper into the water to physically pull yourself out of danger, but your gaze betrays you once more, darting sideways in helpless fascination.

“How did you know I was out here?”

“You’re not exactly quiet.”

Your blood turns to ice, then instantly flares hot. How did it never occur to you that if you could practically track his breathing patterns, he could easily have heard your shifting, your whispered curses, or worse, that one barely suppressed sigh when your imagination got carried away earlier.

“I guess not,” you mutter, “I didn’t realize you were listening.”

His laugh is quiet but genuine, and you’re surprised to find yourself smiling in return. How bizarre yet wonderful it is to witness the softer version of Hotch, miles away from the person he has to be at Quantico. You suddenly want very much to keep him like this.

“Funny,” he murmurs, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Your face instantly burns, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful for the darkness, although knowing your luck, that probably isn’t really doing you any favors. You force a shaky laugh, pretending you didn’t just hear the tease in his voice, or at least pretending it didn’t affect you.

“You really didn’t have to come out here,” you say, eyes fixed stubbornly on the horizon past his shoulders. “I would’ve been fine, you know.”

The water rises around your collarbones, licking under your chin with every small movement. Hotch stands barely submerged past his chest. Even nature is unreasonably biased toward him.

You dig your toes deeper into the sand, resisting the tide and the impulse that keeps nudging you closer to him.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t drown.” 

You open your mouth — to protest, maybe flirt (wishful thinking, obviously), or perhaps just awkwardly deflect — but before you can embarrass yourself further, a sudden wave crashes forward, knocking you straight into him.

Hotch barely budges, absorbing most of your momentum, but your hands land catastrophically. One lands safely on his chest, but the other falls disproportionately lower, fingers splayed over the enticing line of hair disappearing beneath his waistband. 

Simultaneously, his own hand catches your hip, then slides, firm and unintentional, on your ass.

Both of you freeze. 

“Sorry — I — um, the wave.” As if that clarifies anything at all.

Beneath your hand, his stomach tenses, his chest lifting with increasingly rapid breaths.

Still, Hotch doesn’t move, doesn't shift away. His palm stays exactly where it landed, warm, and surely, he has to know exactly what he’s doing. He has to.

“You’re freezing.”

“I —,” you start but whatever you meant to say disappears before it finishes forming. 

He slowly, almost reluctantly lifts his hand from you. Your skin sparks at the loss, hypersensitive where he just was.

When you meet his eyes again, something new flickers there — something you’re certain wasn’t present before tonight. 

Want.

It’s a look he’s taught you to recognize — eyes darkening, pupils dilating, respiration just a bit quicker. Except this isn’t an interrogation room, and the person in front of you is not a suspect, he’s Hotch.

And this want feels very, very personal.

But he only nods once, then glances toward the beach house.

“We should get out of the water.” 

You don’t want to get out. Every part of you rebels at the idea of leaving this bubble. This fragile space that’s somehow made everything else feel distant, unreal.

But you can’t deny the truth in what he doesn't say. If this boundary were broken tonight, there’s no going back, no returning to the careful neutrality you’ve both perfected.

So, you nod slowly, forcing acceptance as your heart protests.

He moves first, and you fall into step beside him, close enough that your shadows merge.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

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[mrypotter]

Skin To Skin

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of Draco knowing who his soulmate is, yet he can’t bear to face her.

Warnings: Teasing, Boggarts, mention of fears, mention of the Hospital Wing, the Weasley twins being themselves, etc.

Note: This is Part 2 of “Copy Of A Copy”, so check it out before you read this! (And I’m sorry if this one is bad)

Copy Of A Copy

Masterlist

Request Reauirements

This person believed in me so here you go! : @theomalfoy

Draco wasn’t the want-everything-to-go-back-to-the-way-it-was-after-complaining-about-it-type.

Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But he knew deep down that he did want everything to go back to the way they were, because every time he looked at his hand, that deep red spot of irritated skin was slowly fading away and he wanted to find a reason to create it again.

She’d stopped drawing. And normally Draco would find that a good thing; now he didn’t have to harshly wipe them off and be left an embarrassing red spot on his hand. But he found himself thinking back on how the drawings actually looked good, despite him being annoyed at the fact they repeatedly showed up on his skin, and he wanted them back. Which, of course, sounds ridiculous if you were to look back on how he acted towards the other drawings that previously showed up on his hand.

But he missed it. Missed watching the lines form one by one, letting him know she existed. He even couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind, ever since he saw her in Care of Magical Creatures. He couldn’t help but think she was decently pretty.

Draco’s hand has unwanted sweat on it so he harshly wiped it on his robes, a disgusted expression lying on his lips. He knew the reason for the sweat though, his quill once again hovering over his skin, the same skin he used to aggressively rub almost everyday as his soulmate drew mindless doodles on her hand.

He dipped the quill tip in the ink, the noises of everyone scattering about being the last thing on his mind, in fact the occasional “SHH!” from Madam Irma Prince was quite helpful to encourage him to focus once the students followed her orders.

He sighed softly, taking a deep breath while staring stupidly at his pale skin he was about to ruin.

He leaned down, the quill tip making contact with his hand two times, forming two dots. Those were eyes, he decided, and drew a straight line below them, making a face that represented him at the moment. His eyes were full yet his lips held uncertainty, hesitant to do this.

Once it was over it didn’t seem so bad anymore, as long as he could manage to hide it from Crabbe and Goyle. The thought of them teasing him about it, teasing him about actually writing back on his skin was unbearable. He could only hope that they don’t stare at his hand.

“Don’t be scared now, it’s just a Boggart.” Professor Lupin explained, his wand held with two hands, a grip on each end.

“Now, Boggarts like tight dark places, and I found this one in the wardrobe yesterday. I asked Dumbledore if we could use it for the lesson and thankfully he said yes. Now, does anyone know what a Boggart looks like?”

The usual hand of Hermione Granger was shot up at the speed of lightning, and once she was called on, she answered not only the right answer but was awarded points for her House.

“No one knows, sir. It takes form of the deepest fear of whomever it faces.”

“Correct, Ms. Granger.” Lupin said, smiling while Granger went slightly pink.

Draco rolled his eyes, irritation seeming to be boiling within them.

“But, everyone, we have an advantage against this creature. And that is?”

“There’s so many of us, it doesn’t know what to turn into?” Potter answered, and Lupin replied with a smile, and awarded more points to Gryiffindor.

“Exactly!” Lupin exclaimed. “Now, though, there is a way to get past a Boggart. And that spell is Riddikulus!” Lupin said, doing the hand movement with the one that possessed his wand. “Say it with me now…”

“Riddikulus!” The class said together.

“This class is ridiculous.” Draco mutters under his breath, Crabbe nodding in agreement beside him while he heard a snuffled laugh somewhere near. His head swerved and he spotted the same girl he saw in Hagrid’s class, trying not to smirk at his joke. He found a smirk coming to his own lips, proud of himself.

“They feed on fear, so think of what you fear the most, and turn it into something funny.” Lupin once again explained, and brought up Neville as a demonstration. “Now, Neville, tell me, what do you fear the most?”

“P-professor Snape.” the boy mumbled, having to repeat the same thing again but a little louder since the Professor didn’t hear him.

“Ahh.” Lupin said amusingly once the name was repeated. “I suppose he does intimidate us all in some way.”

There was a pause before Lupin continued to project to the class, for he was having a quiet conversation with the student before him. “Now Neville, I want you to think of your Grandmother’s clothes very clearly in your mind, can you do that?”

Neville nodded, shaking in his shoes. The door opened and Snape stepped out, looking normal as ever like you’d see him everyday but Neville was scared.

“Wand at the ready!” Lupin reminded, Neville held his wand up and squeaked, “Riddikulus!”

Snape seemed to spin around and he soon found himself in Neville Longbottom’s Grandmother’s clothes, a red handbag on his right arm.

The class laughed, Neville’s face slowly turned into an expression of relief.

Draco scoffed basically the whole time, not ending up actually facing the Boggart but watching as his peers did.

Weasley was practically having a seizure as he faced the spider, helplessly whimpering the spell causing the spider to have roller skates, legs swinging everywhere.

Draco couldn’t help but be curious on what the girl’s fear was, but she didn’t end up facing it just like him.

There was an exited buzz in the air as the students left class, each of them wanting recognition for how brave they were while facing their biggest fears.

“-did you see how I faced that snake-”

“-just said the spell and it went, pop!-”

“-the spider was huge!-”

“-never seen that kind of creature before-”

Draco grumbled angrily, grabbing Crabbe and Goyle’s arms and leading them out to the courtyard in front of the Black Lake.

“That was stupid. Why did he let us do that anyway, and for Dumbledore to give permission…wait til by father hears of this.” He mumbled, looking down and adjusting his arm bandages, thinking back when he insulted the Hippogriff. (He still didn’t regret it, the creature did look kinda ugly to him.)

“Right. We should owl him right away.” Crabbe suggested.

Draco looked up from his arm, eyes flaring. “‘We?!’ I’ll do it. It’s my father after all.”

His friends nodded, Crabbe going pink in the ears.

Goyle’s eyes then shot to Draco’s hand. “Ha! What’s that, Malfoy?”

Draco acted confused, and looking down, acted like he’d seen it for the first time. He pretended to look disgusted. “Gross I tell you, I’ll wash it off later.” He said, looking back at them. Both pair of eyes were still on him.

“Well? What are you looking at?” He snarled, and that seemed to do the trick, both heads bending down as they suddenly found interest in the grass.

“Do this Potion before you leave class, and then a portion of it on my desk with your name on it.”

Snake’s sharp voice echoed through the dark classroom, his gaze seeming to meet all of their eyes before he turned around, adding one last part of his instructions in the black board and heading to his desk, long nose lurking over the surface covered in parchment.

The girl sighed, opening the book to the page instructed and starting to chop the first ingredient. She liked to think of herself good at Potions, but sometimes little things like the reactants would mix up in her mind. But nonetheless if she focused hard enough and followed each step carefully, than she was proud to say that she could do it almost perfectly.

It was only then that she noticed the black markings on the back of her hand, and, looking more closely by bringing up her hand to her face, saw it was a smiley face. It looked smeared a little and the lines were wobbly, but she liked it since she wasn’t the one to draw it.

Scurrying through her bag pretending she was looking for something important, grabbed a quill and dipped it in another student’s ink when they weren’t looking. Then, turning back to her hand and covering it behind her cauldron so the nosy Professor wouldn’t see, drew two eyes next to his, a soft smile beneath it to show her gratitude. He didn’t do much, just too dots and a line, but the reason was all that mattered to her.

She just knew that he missed her somewhat forms of affection, so he acted upon himself to continue it.

“Ridiculous, I tell you, why’d he look at me like that? The audacity of some peop-”

“Sorry.”

Draco didn’t realize he ran into someone else, too busy rambling to himself about an annoying First Year who glared at him out of nowhere to notice his body ran into another. It ended up being a Third Year Hufflepuff, quickly scurrying around the corner to avoid the Slytherin.

Draco rolled his eyes, turning back to the direction he was going and continuing to walk to the Common Room. He muttered the password, climbing into the space full of couches and chairs, all in front of a burning fire, flames high and bright, full of color.

He sat down on one of the chairs, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle to get back from the Hospital Wing; the Weasley twins caught them in the hallway, convinced them to eat some candy, and now their faces were covered in red dots that got bigger by the second. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes at the news when Madame told him before making his way to the room.

He currently sat with a Potions book in his hands, long fingers running across the pages that helped his eyes read it better.

He turned the page, but the page he turned got caught on his robes, and, using his left hand, went to fix it before he froze. On his left wrist, he had another smile face beside the one he drew, this one with an actual smile this time not a straight line like his.

He fought a grin that was threatening to pull the corners of his lips, reaching over to pull his robe sleeve over it so no one could see.

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy!

Person I think would like this: @dunningz :)

[gggukniverse]

take me down slow | jjk

title: take me down slow

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: m, smut, established relationship au

summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.

warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.

wordcount: 2.2k

note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷

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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.

jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.

he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.

but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.

you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.

you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.

a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.

“baby.” you whisper in his ear.

“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.

“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.

that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.

“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.

“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.

“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.

“kook.. so horny..”

“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.

“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.

“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.

“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.

“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.

“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”

“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.

“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.

“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.

you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”

“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.

“i love you.”

“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.

you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.

“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.

“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.

“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”

you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.

“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”

“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.

“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.

“yes, need your cock baby.”

“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.

“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.

“so wet.” he mumbles.

you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.

“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.

“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”

you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.

“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.

“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.

“mh... yeah?” asshole.

“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.

“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”

but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.

“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.

you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.

hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.

“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.

“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”

“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.

“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”

“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.

“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.

“that’s not my name, babe.”

oh fuck.

“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.

“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.

“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”

“gonna cum?” he hums.

“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.

“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”

“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.

“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.

“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”

“cum for me, baby.”

your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.

“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.

“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.

“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.

“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.

“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.

you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.

“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.

“missed your taste.”

“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.

“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.

“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”

“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.

“baby.”

you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”

you smile. “i missed you too.”

—

–

-

–

—

A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐

[kingnlionhearts]

✧ exile (what a ghostly scene)

. *. ⋆ Anakin / Vader x Reader

summary: you were bail organa’s ward, raised on alderaan with your younger sister. in the twilight of the clone war, you and anakin fell in love. when the war died, it dragged you and anakin to early graves with it — leaving only darth vader behind. even after years without you, he still wants you back. and there is nothing he would not do to bring you back to him. . .

tags: angst, tragic romance, suitless vader, no y/n, gn reader, inspired by the 2020 vader comics & vader immortal, past major character death, mourning, vader needs a hug, resurrection

note: my first reader/second person fic — i’m sorry if the tense is bad ajsjwjwjqjq. i’ve had this in my drafts for soooo long and i finally decided to finish it 🫶

word count: 1k

part 1 of 4

The stars have died, fizzling out into oblivion. All that remains is a charcoal heart that once belonged to Anakin Skywalker.

The boy from Tatooine is unreachable now, trapped inside the twisted soul of Darth Vader. The galaxy’s beloved Hero With No Fear is gone. With the rise of the Empire, the Jedi and their sympathisers will be erased from memory. A clean slate to start a new era.

Three years after the creation of the Empire, Darth Vader stands alone. His tower on Mustafar is isolating; its strategic position is a constant reminder of that day. His injuries still hurt sometimes: phantom itches on his now metal legs; scars from his burns that did not fully heal. The medical droids say he is lucky — the fire could have done more serious damage, and he could have been forced to rely on a suit keeping him alive for the rest of his days. Instead, the ebony coloured mask and suit he wears are to conceal his identity. A precaution so that Anakin Skywalker can fade from people’s tongues and memory, leaving the tyranny of Darth Vader in its place.

The weight of his failures is not the heaviest burden. Darth Vader drowns in his anger and grief. He was not strong enough to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was not strong enough to save you.

(All things die. Even stars burn out.)

You were the stars in his sky, his light in the dark, the silvery moon to his blazing sun. So tender and kind. Perhaps your heart was too good for this world. Perhaps, it was your weakness all along. (How could peace ever love a dragon?)

Since you met, you had been Anakin’s sun. You anchored him; guided him home. You were his destiny. And, without you, the galaxy had turned cold. The fiery world outside, all hot air and lava fields, only stood as a reminder of his failure. He’d lost you. After everything Anakin had tried — surrendering himself to the dark side, betraying the light — he could not save you. Time had not quelled the pain.

Vader wonders if you would still recognise him. His copper hair has grown longer (he remembers how you used to cut it for him after he returned from another mission, and you’d giggle as you braided thin locks together), but his face hides behind an obsidian mask. You always loved the blue of Anakin’s eyes, but now they are blazing amber.

Mornings are the only time Vader allows himself to dwell on the past. It is when he finds himself alone and does not have to hide.

Vader recalls how you arrived on Mustafar like it was yesterday. (You haunt him every waking moment.) He could sense your conflicted emotions as soon as you disembarked your ship. Vader wasted no time approaching you, drawing you into his arms (where you belonged; where you were safe). His lips reconnected with yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces as he kissed you hungrily, his hands settled on your hips to keep you close.

You and Anakin had met after turning nineteen. He and Obi-Wan were called to Alderaan to protect the Queen and Viceroy from an assassination attempt. Being their ward, you had been there the whole time and quickly formed a connection with the young padawan — your relationship had blossomed during the Clone Wars.

He rested his forehead against yours as you spoke. “I heard terrible things. Tell me none of it is true.”

Vader hadn’t replied immediately and instead drew his head back to look at you. He would tell you any sweet lie if he needed to as he fought to quell the anger flaring in his eyes. “What have you been told?”

“Obi-Wan told me—”

Vader’s grasp around you tightened protectively. “Obi-Wan is alive?”

“He said you’d killed Jedi. Killed younglings.”

“You must not believe him, my love. He’s a traitor.”

It wasn’t the answer you sought, and you took a step backwards out of your husband’s grasp. “What have you done?”

“I did this for you. To save you.” He cupped your chin in his flesh hand and whispered your name. “I love you.”

Your eyes trained into his. There was no denial, no remorse in his stature; his only regret was letting Obi-Wan tell you anything.

He repeated his words. “I did this for you.”

From the shadows of your cloak, you drew a blaster. Only a small, weak thing. Vader watched your hands tremble. He did admire your courage. “Fix this,” you demanded. “Please,” you begged.

Anger flickered in Vader’s eyes. He had never seen you unimpressed with him. With an easy glide of his hand, Vader used the Force to knock the blaster out of your grip and pin your arms by your sides

“I am stronger than the Chancellor now,” he explained desperately, drawing you to his side. “I can overthrow him. Then you and I can be together; we can run away — just like you always wanted to.”

(But you didn’t. He lost you. Some might call you a traitor — Vader maintains that you were misguided.)

Three years later, regret still festers inside Vader’s hollow soul. There must have been a way to save you.

He misses you endlessly: craving your touch and the sound of your voice. (There is nothing Vader desires more than to have you back in his arms.)

Part of him wants to forget. To cast his memories of you into an abyss; to put the past behind him. But it is an impossible task. You are too well tangled into his soul. You haunt him. (And you’ll haunt him until his death.)

Today, there is no time to focus on you. A new morning brings meetings and training. You were Anakin’s Achilles Heel — but Darth Vader shows no such weakness. As Vader sits on his throne, reading over mission logs and other updates from the spread of the Empire across the galaxy, he receives a message: he must make his return to Coruscant immediately. (Your memory pulls him under the ocean again until he can no longer breathe.)

[sugusearrings]

( ' summertime sadness ' ) oh my god, i feel it in the air telephone wires above are sizzlin' like a snare honey, i'm on fire, i feel it everywhere nothing scares me anymore. kiss me hard before you go summertime sadness i just wanted you to know, that, baby, you the best.

— summary: it's been a hard summer for suguru geto to adjust and deal with his emotions. while his best friend satoru gojo has been on a lot of solo missions lately, he's been spending a lot of time with you (fem!reader). — genre: smut ending with fluff — playing: summertime sadness by lana del rey — note(s): this is my first writing smut in a real long time. it won't be my last but i'm sorry if it wasn't spicy enough. i'm kind of rusty i sorry :( hints of virginity lost but not necessarily. — word count: 3k

— warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving ), missionary, doggy, mating press, cumshot, squirting, and finger sucking

Maybe it was the heat wave.

Maybe it was the curse he digested not too long ago.

But Suguru was throwing up more than he usually does.

His eyes closed tightly as he felt everything come rushing out of his mouth to pour into the toilet bowl. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach to puke, his body kept going.

But you were behind him holding onto his dark silky locks so they wouldn’t get in the way or inside of the murky water. Despite him being in the middle of throwing up his insides, he was embarrassed to do this in front of you.

“It’s okay, Sugu..” you reassured him like you knew what he was thinking of. You rubbed his back gently with your free hand. His eyes glanced over his shoulder to you, he saw the small smile on your lips. He looked over back to the toilet seeing everything he’s eaten today. Maybe even yesterday too.

When he was finished, you reached over to flush it down. You went to get him a bottle of water while he washed his face. His face was flushed and hot. His throat was aching along with his stomach feeling hollow.

After drying it away with the spare wash cloth you had just for him, he took his extra toothbrush you bought him. As he brushed his teeth his amethyst color hues stared back at him. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. His dark circles were so noticeable these days. He knew you must have noticed them too. But you didn’t say anything, you have some of your own if you didn’t cover yours with makeup.

Your dorm had the biggest windows and nobody knew exactly why. But it came handy when it was the summer. Winter not so much. Suguru sat on the windowsill with the window wide open. There was barely a breeze and when there was one, it was a warm one.

He had a cigarette in the middle of his lips. It was quiet today. Satoru must still be away on his mission. He wasn’t exactly sure where Shoko was. So that just left you and him. It’s been like that for the past few weeks.

He could hear your gentle voice singing softly as you showered. As much as you whined about the brutal cold, you hated the warm weather. You didn’t like to sweat. Suguru couldn’t blame you for that. The smoke slowly blew out of Suguru’s thin lips as he just zoned out.

“Shoko’s bad habit is rubbing off on you.”

His eyes averted to you once he heard your voice. You wore an oversized shirt (his shirt that went missing a week ago) with nothing but your nude panties underneath. When you stretched the shirt rode up exposing the fabric that barely covered your rear. He couldn’t help but to stare. The amount of time you two spent together comfortability was formed. There was times you would change clothes in front of him and he would do the same. You never caught him staring but that’s because he knew how not to get caught.

“You see a flaw in Shoko?” Suguru teased you then took another pull. You smiled to yourself, placing your dirty uniform in the hamper.

“Cigarettes don't have a better taste, y’know?” You reminded him. He knew you were concerned about his health. You were always concerned about him. Suguru was hard to read for others but when it came to you. It was like you saw what he was thinking like it was written on his forehead. Suguru swore you had some kind of unique curse technique but you just reassured him you’re very observant. He still doesn’t believe that till this day.

“You don’t know what those curses taste like.”

Suguru put out the cigarette then flicked it away. He took his bottle of water.

“True but I could tell they’re bitter.”

You sat down on the edge of your bed. Your hair was still damp from the shower reaching past your shoulders now. He noticed how fast it was growing. He also noticed the dark circles of your own now. It wasn’t as dark as his but close enough. You looked so much younger without the makeup. He didn’t mind either but you not wearing makeup might be his favorite.

“What gave you that clue?”

He tilted his head to the side with a sly smirk. You both chuckled at the same time. A comfortable silence came afterwards. The breeze was cool now thanks to your shower. You glanced down at your bare feet.

“So they don’t come in different flavors?”

“Why the sudden interest in this again?”

Suguru never really recalled you or anyone really asking him about the taste. You shrugged your shoulders crossing your legs over the other. His eyes sneaked down to look at your bare legs. He could tell without even touching them they were so smooth. He quickly looked back up at you before you noticed.

“I’m just asking, Sug. I just wish,” you let out a soft sigh, “I just wish I knew how to consume them so you wouldn’t have too.”

A light blush crept on Suguru’s cheeks.

“Name…even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.” He smiled. “But thank you.”

“Anytime.” You smiled back. You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. The heat started to slowly kick in. By the end of the night you knew you were going to take another shower.

“I bet your flavor is sweet.”

Suguru’s honey-like voice broke your thoughts. Your body shot up, feeling your eyes widened. Then you looked across to your friend who hasn’t moved from his spot. You blinked a few times before clearing your throat.

“H-huh?”

“You’ve been eating a lot of fruit lately. Especially cherries.” He told you nonchalantly with a shrug. You bit down on your bottom lip feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You thought about the times you would eat your cherries after training because you would get hungry. You didn’t want a big meal to sit in your stomach plus cherries were in season.

Suguru would watch you bite down into the dark red fruit being careful not to bite into the seed. You would suck the remains on the seed before you placed them back into your container not wanting to throw them onto the ground. Your lips would a faint red after eating them all.

“T-they’re my favorite.” You mumbled shyly shifting a bit in your seat now. Suguru chuckled lightly.

“Am I making you nervous, name?”

“N-No!” You quickly answered. He let out a laugh, you haven’t heard him laugh like that in weeks. You didn't realize how much you missed the sound of his beautiful laughter.

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“You think you’re the only one who can be observant?” He countered. You part your lips but close them making a thin line. He smirked knowing he used your own words against you.

Sure Suguru would flirt with you but so would Satoru. It didn’t mean anything, right?

But Suguru didn’t speak to Shoko like that and Satoru was just a natural flirt. You slowly shook your head. Suguru stood up from the windowsill. “You’re right, name. Cigarettes don’t taste any better. But I don’t have anything to replace it”

He was walking towards you now. Your breathing picked up but couldn’t be heard. His cat-like eyes stared at you like you were his prey caught in the corner. “I am very convinced you can help me with that.” He stood in front of you. You bit down on your bottom lip.

“H-how can I do that?” You asked nervously. Suguru smiled at your curiosity.

“Easy,” he sat down next to you to move your hair behind your ear to lean close, “let me taste you.” he whispered in a husky tone. You stiffened up with your face completely flushed and it wasn’t because of the heat. You both just stared at each other for a few moments.

Maybe it was the heat wave or the curse he just ate

Or maybe he was tired of hiding these urges he had whenever you would come around.

The way your skirt would flow when you would run or jump to block attacks. The way you stared up at him with your doe eyes. The way you would brush against him so close he could smell your perfume you would spray on the side of your neck.

But Suguru needed to taste you.

Suguru was down on his knees in front of the edge of the bed. Your leg was draped on his shoulders. Your panties were already on the floor completely forgotten. His eyes were half closed not wanting to miss the pleasure on your face as his tongue swirled inside your gummy walls. His tongue would creep and twirl around your swollen clit. You did your best to keep your moans down, not wanting to be loud. But Suguru was making it so hard.

"F…uck…S-ugu…mmf!” You muffled underneath your hand to contain your volume. Your toes curled behind his shoulders. Suguru wasn’t shy to make any noise. You could hear his tongue moving against your wet core. Whenever you tried to squirm, he would use his hands that were placed on your thigh to give you a tight squeeze as a warning.

He pulled his mouth away and replaced them with his two forefingers. He dragged them slowly up and down your wet slit.

“Just like I said, sweet.” His sultry voice spoke to you. You looked down to meet his gaze. His lips glistened from your wetness and his saliva. He had a smirk. He saw you try to shy away breaking the eye contact you two were sharing. He found it so cute.

“Don’t act all shy now, pretty girl. We’re only getting started.” He slowly pushed his two fingers at once. You could feel the pressure of your wells stretching for his long thick fingers. “You’re so tight, baby.” He groaned, pressing his tongue back inside of you. He was always good at mulit-tasking.

Suguru felt himself feeling a natural high. Maybe it was the heat that spiked this feeling but he was sure it was your pussy. The leftover taste of the curse completely washed away by your juices overflowing his taste buds. Your clit was throbbing against his thumb. You started to feel your lower abdomen tightening now.

“S-Suguru! Please!” You cried out reaching down to grab some of his dark hair. He made loud slurping and sucking sounds. He moaned against you to give vibrations like a tease. He pushed your thighs open as wide as they can be. He glanced up then back down at your pretty puffy lips. He pumped his fingers in and out at a fast pace. Your legs began to fidget.

“Are you going to cum, my pretty girl?” He taunted you. You nodded your head feeling your hips move on their own against his fingers.

“S-so…so bad I-I wanna cum.”

“What’s stopping you?” he smiled.

That’s when you finally lost it and gave in. You loosened your lower body into the pressure. Suguru flattened his tongue feeling a gush of your juices coming down. He moaned how much it was and how sweet it tasted. He didn’t want to waste not one drop. Even on his fingers he sucked down on them. He turned to you laying on your back, trying to gain composure. Your lower body was exposed but you still had his shirt on. He felt the warm breeze brushed against the back of his neck.

He forgot about the window that was still open.

“Take it off.”

He told you as he went back to close the window then pulled the curtains. As much as he didn’t care, he didn’t want someone to see the way you make those cute faces when you receive pleasure. That’s for his eyes only. You slowly sat up feeling your legs stiff and weak. The room was dark now the curtain was closed. He looked over at you still with his shirt on. “You really don’t like to listen do you, hm?”

“I-I -”

He walked back over to you. He started to pull the bottom of the shirt over your body. Your arms automatically rose to help him remove the last bit of clothing you had left. It wasn’t too dark in your room. He could still see your breasts bounce back into place on your chest. He smiled.

“Such a pretty girl.” he purred. He removed his regular white shirt along with his loose joggers. You swallowed and moved to the middle of the bed. Your eyes gazed down at him slipping out of his boxers. He sprung free and you nearly choked. You couldn’t get over how he was just perfect everywhere.

His cock just thick and long. He had a few perfect veins, one vein going up to his tip that was already leaking of pre-cum. Suguru noticed you staring and chuckled lightly.

“We’ll make it fit, pretty girl. I promise.”

“H-how?” You blurted out leaning back on the few pillows you had on your bed.

“I have some kind of experience.” His larger frame hovered over you. You raised your bright brow.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

It shouldn’t have bothered you but it was more of a bit of this new found jealousy. This new feeling. Or maybe you always felt like this and just repressed it. Like that one time you overheard Suguru speaking with Mei Mei. Of course she was flirting with him but he also flirted back. You felt some kind of tightening in your chest. You gave him a whole silent treatment for the rest of the day. He was so clueless why you did. He did apologize.

Suguru could see your puzzled face. He leaned down to press his lips against your own. Your stupid thoughts were pushed to the side once the kiss began to heat up. His tongue claimed dominance you knew you couldn’t fight for. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues massaged against each other.

He aligned himself a bit since he was so much taller than you.

“There’ll be some discomfort.” He mumbled against your lips. You rolled your eyes as you pulled away to scoff.

“I’ve been stabbed and thrown out of a building how many times?”

“Not many because Satoru and I were always there to -”

“Suguru.” You cut him off with a glare. He laughed and gave you another kiss.

He dragged his tip up and down your slit. You let out a shaky breath already making a mess just with that alone. Suguru took note and smirked. “I didn’t even do anything and you’re already a wet mess, pretty girl.” He purred.

“S-shut up and fuck me…” you breathed out. He was amused how eager you were starting to become.

“Hmm…you could say it a lot nicer, name.”

“Suguru I swear I –”

He pushed his tip against you. You gasped then your doe eyes widened. You gazed up at him. He studied your face before pushing further. A strong pressure was being pressed against you. Suguru sucked in a harsh breath. “I need you to relax, name. Be a good girl for me.”

It was like his voice put you under a spell.

You nodded slowly and tried your best to ease your body. He kissed along your neck and shoulder. You felt his hair brushing against your heated cheek. You bit your lip trying to contain a moan from coming out. He nibbled down on your collar bone then began to suck down on it. After he was done he went to breasts and sucked down on your nipple. His tongue swirled around it slowly with his eyes staring up at you.

After a few moments, Suguru pushed the tip inside of you. Another shaky breath escaped your lips.

“You’re doing a good job, baby. Just like that…” he whispered into the crook of your neck. It didn’t take long till he was able to push more of his thick grith inside of your tight core. You felt a sharp discomfort like Suguru warned you. He stood still so your tight warms could adjust for his cock. “You’re okay baby?” You mumbled a mhm and gave him a nod.

This definitely wasn’t like being stabbed or thrown out of a building.

He strokes your cheek and admires your facial features. You were used to him staring at you but not too closely. You tried your best not to break eye contact. But even in the slight darkness, he could see how your cheeks darken. You look beautiful as ever to him.

“Y-you can move, Sugu…” you whispered.

“Are you sure?”

You nod. He gave you another kiss then he began to thrust his hips slowly. The slight discomfort came back but the pleasure started to mask over the pain. You began to pant heavily when Suguru picked up his pace. You were moaning and whining with the movement of your hips trying to follow his rhythm. The jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Since the curtains were closed the room’s temperature began to rise. A light form of sweat formed on your forehead making your hair press against it. Suguru could feel a thin layer of sweat on his back.

“Mmm…fuck…this pussy is so good to me.” He moaned into your ear. His moan alone made you become a sloppier mess. He was able to push deeper inside of your gummy walls. Your walls expand for his cock hitting your spot over and over.

“Suguru…a-ahhh..”

He rolled his hips then began to pound into you. Your nails raked down his lower back then clung into your skin feeling your back being pressed into the mattress. The headboard was banging into the wall behind it. Thankfully you’re not next to anyone.

“Suguru!” You screamed out. Suguru smirked. Sure he didn’t want to get caught but hearing you yell his name out, he was willing to take the risk.

“Squeeze me, name. That’s it. Good girl. Your pretty pussy is hugging my cock so tight.”

“I-I…y-you…Sugu” You couldn’t even form a sentence being a rambling mess at this point. Cock drunk for the first time. Your vision was blurry with tears of pleasure but you could see Suguru’s beautiful face flushed. Your hand reached behind to hold onto the headboard. But he snatched it away and laced your fingers together.

“You’re mine, you hear me, name? All mine.” He breathed into your neck before he licked up your pulse. You nodded rapidly.

“A-all yours, Sugu…” you babbled, feeling his lips leave kisses on your chest down to your neck again. He loved to hear you become so vulnerable to him. "Forgot how to use your words, pretty girl? I thought you were a smart girl." He chuckled pushing your thighs to your chest and your legs against the headboard. You held your breath feeling him slide deeper you swore you could feel him in your guts. "Well look at that, you're completely stuff with me now." His eyes stared down watching your pussy engulfing him whole. He could see himself twitch inside of her. "S-Sugu...p-please..." you whined just aching for him. His eyes moved to your face. He smirked seeing how desperate you were for him. Your eyes barely open and cheeks darkening from the temperature of the room. He started to pound into you feeling every inch of him in this new position. "F-Fuck! Ngh!" You cried out not able to move with him pressing your thighs down on your chest with his board chest against your legs. He was heavily panting onto your face. He pressed his forehead against yours then leaned in for a kiss. It was a sloppy kiss but it made it easier for him to just go as deep as he wanted. You both could hear how wet you were with the loud sounds your pussy made with each time he pounded into you.

He suddenly pulled out of you completely.

You backed away from the kiss, confused and whiny.

“Suguru..” you whined out in the dark.

“Don’t be a brat now, princess,” he chuckled, then moved your body so you can be lying on your stomach, “I think you can handle me like this now, hm?”

His voice was so taunting and sexy at the same time. He could have made you do whatever he wanted. You nodded your head.

“Y-yes! Please just…need your cock back inside of me.”

Your hips moved eagerly. He reached over to grab a pillow and lifted your lower body to put your pillow underneath you.

“Arch your back…such a good girl. Look at you taking orders now.” He placed his hand on the fat of your ass. He lifted it up to see your swollen puffy folds, dripping to your inner thighs. He smiled admiring you. “I can’t believe you were hiding this from me. I’ll remember that for punishment later on.”

Your eyes widen and a faint blush crept on your cheeks.

“Geto…”

“Oh. You’re addressing me like that?”

He placed a smack on your ass cheek. You whined and buried your face back into the pillow, closing your eyes tightly. He squeezed and massaged the fat of your ass before he greeted your slit with his tongue again. Your lips part to let out a faint moan, moving your hips back to him.

Suguru removed his tongue to replace it with his cock. He pushed back into you hearing a small wince for you. He started to slam his hips into your ass. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him tighter than before. One hand tightened on your hip then the other was placed on the back of your neck and squeezed. Your face being pushed into the pillow.

“Fuuuuuck. Name, n-name….”

You nearly came just hearing the way he moaned your name. Suguru felt his cock throbbing. You were babbling, slight drool coming from the corner of your mouth. Tears from the corner of your eyes going down your flushed cheeks. You came for the third time before Suguru gave you one last harsh thrust and release his warm load into you.

Your heavy panting and breathing matched with his. He slowly pulled out watching his load leaking out of you now. He took two of his fingers and coated them with it. He brought them to your lips.

“Suck.”

You lazily leaned over to place your mouth over his fingers and do what you were told. When you finished, he moved your hair out of your face. He leaned down to kiss you and your shoulder over the marks he left.

He wondered how noticeable they were going to be. Suguru got up and went to get your wash cloth then came back to clean you up. After placing the washcloth in the hamper, he laid next to you in the stuffy room rubbing your back. You couldn’t keep your eyes open and went to sleep instantly. He chuckled, kissing your lips then got up to shower.

Suguru felt better after the cool shower he had. He placed your blanket over your naked body as you snored quietly. He grabbed his stolen shirt that was thrown onto the floor and put it on.

He walked over to the window to open the curtain half way. He was greeted by the cool breeze.

He sat on the windowsill and went to light another cigarette but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Hey! Name! Have you seen Suguru? He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts!” Satoru’s voice was heard behind the door as he kept knocking.

Suguru gazed over to you then got up to answer the door. He opened the door enough for him to see Suguru but not enough to see you. Satoru was surprised Suguru answered the door. His eyes were slightly larger but a grin formed on his lips.

“Speak of the devil himself.”

“Didn’t expect you back so soon, Satoru.” Suguru smiled back. Satoru scoffed at his best friend .

“Only the weak would struggle with that kind of mission. Speaking of, where’s name?”

Suguru made a mental note of how often Satoru would come to your room. Alone.

“She’s asleep. The heat made her a bit fatigued.” He answered. Satoru nodded.

“It is fucking hot today.” He began to unbutton a few buttons on his uniform shirt. That’s when his eyes lowered down to Suguru.

“Hey! Suguru, you found your shirt! Where was it?”

“Name stole it.”

Suguru smiled softly. A smile he hasn't had in weeks.

[steddietogo]

Part two of this post on celebrity Steve and oblivious Eddie.

———

Eddie’s met with the first line of defense at Steve’s door. He had expected to at least make it into Steve’s place before being ambushed by Robin but it seems Dustin beat her to it. Eddie would’ve laughed if it was any other day, seeing Dustin guarding Steve’s front door on his bicycle like a mighty knight on his steed.

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Dustin says and Eddie nods slowly.

“I had a campaign with the guys,”

“So it wasn’t because of the pictures?” He has an eyebrow raised skeptically in a move so Steve, Eddie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Listen, Dusty, I love you and I know you love Steve but I’m not talking to you about this before I speak to him okay? It’s just not—” The door swings open halfway through his sentence, which was good because Dustin showed no signs of budging.

Steve’s standing there bundled in a hoodie, and says, “Get out of my doorway Dustin,”

“No,”

“Dustin,” Steve’s tone goes stern but Dustin only relents after a fifteen second stare down during which Eddie is too afraid to move.

“Fine,” He says, tossing Eddie a dark look. “But I’ll be back in an hour,” And then he’s cycling away.

Steve’s unusually quiet and withdrawn all the way to the kitchen and then occupies himself with the coffee machine, facing away from Eddie.

“We need to talk,” Eddie starts then cringes as how bad it sounds.

“Yeah we do,” Steve places two mugs on the island and stays on the other side of it, arms crossed. Eddie hates not being able to read Steve’s face. It’s not the first time they’re having a fight— if this even considered a fight— but he’s never been shut out like this. He prepares to grovel but Steve interrupts him again. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew at first,” Steve sighs heavily. “I thought you just didn’t want to mention it, then you asked what I did for work,”

“And you told me you were in between jobs,” Steve mumbles something that sounds like technically but he still wasn’t looking at Eddie. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to ignore you,”

“Didn’t you though?”

“I was confused, Steve, and overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to say to you even if I answered your calls,”

“Now you do?”

“Yeah, now I do,” Eddie says. “It’s kind of intimidating you know, to find out your only boyfriend is a global superstar—” He takes the win when Steve snorts into his coffee.

“I’m not that famous,” Steve tries to protest but Eddie presses on.

“But I love you—”

“What?”

“And I don’t give a shit what anyone has to say about it—”

“You love me?”

“Have I not told you that before?” Eddie rounds the island to hold Steve face in his hands. “Do you have any idea how easy you are to love, baby?”

Steve blinks fast like he’s blinking away tears. “I can’t promise you it won’t happen again,”

“I know,”

“It might even get worse,”

“I was raised in a small town babe, I don’t mind being called your satanic boy toy once in a while,” Eddie says and Steve laughter rings out much brighter this time. They’re going to be just fine.

———

[writingdevil]

Lovely writing you have here! Can you write something with Contrarian and Cold? They seem like polar opposites but have a common interest in finding interesting things to do (and screwing with the Narrator but he's not around in your ficlets) so seeing them interact with each other would be fun :D

(Yeah! I love them! They're such a funny and chaotic duo and I love seeing anything with them. Anyway, enjoy!)

Although Contrarian welcomed mischief and surprises, he found that it wasn't actually that fun when he wasn't aware of what was happening around him.

Restless wasn't a word that Contrarian ever thought that he'd be associated with, but in the weeks that they've gained their own bodies, he found that he couldn't sit still at all, with no way to satisfy him.

They were all figuring this new situation out, but it felt like everyone was figuring it out much faster than Contrarian. Sure, getting your own freedom was fun and all, but that also meant that they were responsible for themselves now, and Contrarian wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Hero said that he was just overwhelmed with all the new changes, but that couldn't be right. Contrarian didn't get overwhelmed, he got excited at things! It was just a nervous sort of excitement, one where he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Contrarian would walk around their house, trying to find something fun to do, but all he would see were these birds that were actually figuring themselves out, becoming entirely new people that Contrarian was both happy and nervous for.

Yesterday, he walked into a room with Paranoid focused solely on preening Hero's wings, with the other too content and sleepy to notice him. Contrarian's not sure if he's ever seen either of them that happy before.

Then today, he looked out his window to see Smitten and Hunted coming back from a walk, laughing and looking more peaceful and happy than they ever were before.

Everytime he saw it, Contrarian had the urge to walk away, to get away from these weird, domestic scenes that were now taking place.

It wasn't that he wasn't happy for them, it was just-weird to see. It was weird to see voices that he's known forever, suddenly start to change, and not in a bad way.

Change used to be such a bad thing for them back in the cabins-the fear of being faced with something more monstrous than the last. Of course, Contrarian always voiced the opinion of simply walking away from it all, getting as far away from the danger as possible, no matter how fruitless that choice tended to be in the end.

But now they were free, and choices were good again, because there wasn't a horror to run from anymore. That was supposed to be a good thing, but it for some reason filled Contrarian with worry.

So he just kept wandering around, trying to either pass the time or find someone to annoy. But every second that Contrarian was alone, he was accompanied with nothing but silence.

He hated that. He hated silence and boredom and having to actually think about himself for once. So he did what he does best-he ran away from the problem.

He avoided everyone in the house, attempting to find the most secluded and forgotten room to hole up in, until he eventually found the kitchen, finding it empty by some miracle.

He had wanted to try and ignore his problems by eating, but he stopped at the sight of a figure already standing there, large wings wrapped around them.

All Contrarian had to do was shiver at the temperature, and he knew who it was.

"Cold! Sorry! Didn't see you there. What are you-uh-doing?"

Contrarian chuckled nervously to try and fill the awkward silence, and then Cold shifted his wings just enough so that his eyes were shining through the dark feathers, and he did not look pleased.

"I'm trying to avoid people, but that seems like an impossible task," Cold said, and Contrarian couldn't help but giggle at the other in amusement. "Why not just stay in your room, then? Nobody would bother you in there."

Cold rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "Why should I stay in my room? There's nothing interesting in there, and I spend more than enough time sleeping in that room."

Contrarian felt like there was something deeper in Cold's tone, but it was hard to tell with the other.

Contrarian hadn't spent a lot of time with Cold, but he always saw him just popping up here and there, and Contrarian just assumed that he was always coming back from doing some weird shit in the woods.

Cold lowered his wings down past his shoulders once he realised Contrarian wasn't leaving. "I wanted to do something, but I don't know what," Cold said with a sigh, glancing around the kitchen.

Contrarian chuckled, but there was no amusement in the sound. He walked closer to the other and leaned against a counter. "That makes two of us," he mumbled, and Cold arched a brow curiously.

"Oh? Is the clown actually bored? When there's a million ways he could be annoying people?" Contrarian groaned in embarrassment as Cold teased him, tilting his head up to the ceiling as he thought.

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to vent to Cold of all people. He had a pretty good guess as to what Cold would consider 'advice', so instead he threw the question back at him.

"Well why are you bored? Or, at least, being weird in a not-Cold way?" he asked, and watched in surprise as Cold averted his eyes.

"I'm not bored," Cold replied quietly, "everything's just-a lot more than I was expecting, and I don't know where to begin to try and feel something."

"Like the choices are overwhelming you?" Cold shrugged. "It's more like I'm not sure what will truly satisfy me, not like how all the others are figuring it out, seemingly far easier than me." Contrarian could just about sense a hint of bitterness in Cold's voice, and although he said didn't want to vent to the other, it still felt wrong to leave a flockmate feeling lonely and confused.

"I'm kinda confused as well," he said, bouncing up and down on his feet for something to do. He could feel Cold's eyes on him like frost sticking to his skin and turning it blue, but he kept a smile on his face as he said, "This whole freedom and agency thing is hard to wrap my head around."

"Why?" Cold asked, no trace of anything teasing or mocking to be heard, which calmed Contrarian down slightly.

"Because everything's changing, and it's not bad for once, and there's no annoying guy in our head telling us what to do. Sure, those are all good things, but what if-" Contrarian paused, taking a moment to look around the kitchen, until his eyes eventually fell onto a fork on the counter, and he grabbed it, holding it up for Cold to see.

"What if I wanted to try and juggle forks in the air because it could be fun? If we were in the cabin, everyone would tell me 'No Contrarian, that's so dangerous and anyways, we have this big, scary princess to focus on,' so then I have to do it."

"But there's no danger to ignore and no Narrator to defy," Cold said, piecing the dilemma together much quicker than Contrarian would have liked. Cold even sounded intrigued by it.

Contrarian stopped bouncing, and nodded with a bittersweet smile on his face. "The change is good, don't get me wrong. But-" Contrarian stopped, taking a moment to look out the window, hearing some of the others laugh, and just feel how happy they must be now.

"-But it's hard to feel like a contrarian nowadays."

Cold hummed lowly, and then neither of them spoke for the next few minutes, simply sitting in their confusion.

Cold wasn't sure what to try and feel anymore, and Contrarian wasn't sure how to feel like him anymore.

He heard Cold sigh, and when Contrarian looked up, he found the other staring at the fork in his hand curiously.

"Do you think you'd be better at juggling forks with or without your eyesight?" Cold asked, and Contrarian's entire body stopped in that moment, all brainpower focused on processing that question.

"What?" he blurted out with a laugh, noticing how Cold's wings had now completely unwrapped from his body, and he seemed to straighten up to his full height as his attention was solely on the fork.

"I don't think you'd be that good of a juggler to begin with," Cold said, and Contrarian's jaw dropped at the audacity. "You don't strike me as someone with good hand coordination."

"Excuse you, sir!" Contrarian exclaimed in playful outrage, a giddy smile already taking over his face. "I'll have you know that I have excellent hand coordination! You wouldn't be able to throw a blade out of a window as well as I could. In fact-" Contrarian slammed the fork back onto the counter, making sure the pointy ends were dug deep enough into the surface, and then marched off, gesturing for Cold to follow.

"C'mon!" he exclaimed with a newfound determination. "I'll show you how good I am at juggling-with knives, just to prove it to you. Hero tried to hide them all from me, but he can't stop my chaos forever. Let's go!"

Cold followed him without another word, but Contrarian did catch the hint of a smile on his face as they walked off together.

Maybe they don't have to get used to these changes right away or as quickly as the others, but maybe they just need someone else to make the process less daunting, and that was enough for them.

[mrypotter]

Nothing Can Capture The Sting

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Reader tries to replace Harry after they break up, but nothing captures the feeling she has when she’s with him.

Warnings: Angst, crying, mention of break up, brief mention of being tied up (no description), kissing? Cho (is she a warning lol-), let me know if there’s any others!!

Note: I really need to write for Harry more often, he’s my favorite! So here’s to the Harry lovers. ;)

Now Playing: Sailor Song Gigi Perez

Masterlist

Requests closed :)

She stared at the boy across from her, his dimples and fluffy hair showcasing his beauty. He was pretty, in a way, and he was smart too since he was in dark blue robes. But she couldn’t help but doze off while he was telling her something about his Charms essay… or was it Potions? She didn’t quite place the subject, for her mind was thinking of other things.

He looked a lot like Harry, she observed. His hair was similar, fluffy and defiantly not properly taken care of- she wondered if it could resist even the strongest of charms, just like Harry’s? And if she looked harder, she could tell he was basically an off brand of Harry. The two boys had the same eye color, despite Harry’s being brighter to her, and their dimples were oh so noticeable when they smiled.

The main difference between the boys was Harry had glasses, the boy in front of her didn’t. She placed them on him in her mind though, picturing him with the round rimmed lenses around his green eyes, adding an imaginary sparkle to them while she was at it.

She felt bad doing these things, changing the boy’s image in her mind when she was trying to move on. How dare she, changing his face while he was talking to her, smiling like he’s finally met the girl he’s been looking for?

“-did Snape give you detention yesterday too? And he said no, which was okay, but at the same time he did the same thing as me! I swear, Snape hates everyone but the Slytherins-”

Harry didn’t ramble.

He normally just complained and muttered to himself, but never rambled to her. He would most of the time let her ramble to him, yet he spoke openly about not being bothered by it, for he liked the sparkle in her eyes while she talked about something she liked… most likely another romance Muggle novel she read.

She have had finished one recently, not like she had any interest talking to him about it, for she couldn’t help but picture Harry instead.

What would he do if he was here?

If he was here, she was gonna be honest here, if Harry was here (and she pictured it so detailed that it hurt her chest) he could be leaning his head against the table with his arm, glasses crooked as he softly smiled at her, letting her know he was listening, running the tip of his finger around the top of his Butterbeer. The drink would still be around his lips, and every now and then his tongue would stick out and grab little by little before bringing it back into his mouth.

The image was so familiar to her, so comforting, that her brain stuck to it for the rest of the time the boy- was his name Robert?- told his story about how unfair Snape treated other Houses besides Slytherin. But who knows, though, had he moved onto another subject, or was he still rambling on about the same thing?

And, as she was walking back to the castle with his cold hand in hers, she couldn’t help but feel Harry’s splintered hands instead, imagining his thumb running over her skin in the most comforting way.

Yet Robert had no idea. How could he?

“I had fun today,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts once again. “Care to do this again?”

She looked at him, matching his smile but the only difference was that his wasn’t forced. The eye contact she made with him was the first time she looked at him properly, taking in his genuine smile and how he seemed to actually like hanging out with her.

“Sorry, I don’t think it will work out,” she whispered, surprised he heard her with all the snow blowing around them. His curved up lips turned into a frown fairy quickly, reaching up to scratch his head in confusion.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I understand,” he said, a slight hint of disapointment waved in his voice. “See you around?”

The tone in his voice, whatever it was, she didn’t catch it but at that moment it didn’t matter to her, for she already gazed off, thinking of another while Robert walked away, the frown on his lips still present.

“You know, my father says that sadness isn’t permanent, that it is like life testing us before it gives us good things.”

The girl was sitting on a tree branch outside of Hogwarts, the breeze going through her knotty hair. Luna was next to her, drawing silly doodles in her notebook with colored markers piled in her robes. Blue was smeared all over the side of her palm, for she accidentally touched the marker’s ink before it dried. Luna had a fancy towards Muggle art supplies, and the girl was more than glad to lend her friend her things, for it was all worth seeing the glee sparkling in Luna’s eyes.

The girl had told Lina about her precious date and how it went terribly wrong for her (yet again) and amazing for him, only for her to say it wouldn’t work out.

The girl hummed at the saying her father once said, looking over at Luna and giving her a grateful smile. “Thanks Luna, but I’m not sad… well, I can’t lie to you. I’m nothing without him.”

Luna hummed right back, glancing upwards for a spit second before turning back to her drawing. It was of those creatures she often spoke of, the animal the you can only see if you’ve seen someone die. The girl couldn’t remember the name, for Luna has only said it once or twice, too busy saying fun facts about them that the girl couldn’t have time to slip in the question of their title.

“I miss Harry too, he avoids me in the corridors. The only time I get to see him is if I’m looking for my shoes that people hide. Which is often,” Luna mutters, voice almost blending in with the wind as it blows past them both. The girl swings her legs, feeling the prickly bark beneath her calves. She was weirdly grateful for the feeling, for it gave her something to bring her back to earth when her mind wondered off with thoughts of Harry and his bright green eyes she missed looking into.

“Do you think I’ll ever get him back?” The girl wondered suddenly, looking over at the Quidditch Pitch, seeing maroon robes flying around on brooms as they practiced. Normally, she would wait in the Gryfindoor Common Room for Harry, reading a Muggle book she was recently gifted or an old classic she loved re-reading, all until a certain Raven-haired boy entered the room. No matter how tired she would be, she would sit down on the couch and await his return.

Her body soon missed that, for now as she lays in bed wide awake for about an hour, awaiting for sleep to take her away.

It’s because Harry was such a big part of her life, her routine, that once he left it was like someone took the middle piece of her puzzle, ruining the big picture because of the obvious space there.

“Maybe, who knows,” Luna murmured back, reaching over and grabbing her friend’s hand for support. “Sometimes the universe gifts us people to hang onto, then takes them away. It may feel like torture, but it’s all for a reason. I know you’re probably used to hearing those words, and before you ask I don’t know the reason, but I do know that in the end all the tears will be worth it.” Luna was practically whispering, like the words she was saying were a secret only them two could witness, yet the soft hushed tone from Luna was comforting towards the girl, and she was forever grateful for her friend just then.

She responded with a gratitude- filled smile, squeezing Luna’s hand right back. “Thanks, Luna.”

Luna smiled at her, this one bigger than the previous one she expressed. “Anytime.” Then the sympathetic glint in her eyes turned to a teasing glitter. “Now, let me get back to my drawing, I haven’t finished it yet!”

She leaned her big book against the orange juice jug, already moving her eyes along the pages first thing in the morning. She liked to start her morning with some calm reading, ignoring the chatter of students around her. Her breakfast laid perfectly on her plate, for she had previously served herself, yet she knew that she wasn’t going to eat much anyway.

Normally, Harry’s glittering green eyes would peak in front of her hair that was hanging in her face from beside her, wiggling his eyebrows as he tried to crack a smile on her grumpy morning face. It would always work, yet sometimes now in the present she could find her brain tricking herself into thinking Harry was back next to her, forcing her to turn her head sideways only to find an empty bench seat.

She would do this every couple minutes, even though she knew it would be a trick, yet her heart hoped that he would magically be there for real that time.

Maybe one more glance, she asked herself, and he will be there? Maybe the flickering lights of the Great Hall won’t trick me this time?

But it all ended the same, for Harry didn’t sit next to her anymore but instead next to Ron and Hermonie on the other side of the Gyrfinndor table; it’s like he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

She found herself staring longer than she should’ve, getting lost in the beauty of his profile and how he smiled while talking to Ron…probably about something stupid like Quidditch.

“They say it takes more muscles to frown than it takes to smile.”

She turns, facing two copy and pasted red haired Weasleys, both with matching grins that automatically made her day a little brighter (she still didn’t know how they did it).

Her frown deepened. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Fred- no George- shrugged with one shoulder. “Who said we were ‘they’?”

She felt her frown turn upwards a tiny bit, and the twins took it as a victory, for their grins widened.

“There it is, George, our job here is done.”

George smiled wide in response and turned at the same time as Fred to leave, both bodies spinning on their bottoms.

The girl reached for Fred’s forearm, —ignoring the dangerous wobble of the orange juice in the jug—gripping the robes that covered it. “Wait.”

Both twins shared a look before glancing back at her, settling back down in their seats (the hesitation before doing so didn’t go unnoticed by her).

“H-” she sputtered. “Has Harry said anything to you two? You know, since what happened?”

She found herself digging her fingernails into her wrists out of nervousness after she retracted her hand once she knew they weren’t going to leave.

They sighed in unison, leaning forward and lowering their voices.

“-I heard Lupin talking to Harry-”

“-wasn’t sure what about though-”

“-obviously about her what are you on about-”

“-you never know-”

“-ignore him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Lupin was talking to Harry about how he seems off lately-”

“-lost his good luck charm I presume-?”

“-no that wasn’t it-”

“-oh I know what it is go and tell her, Fred-”

“-Harry seems to be doing…better than usual-”

“-first to give Slughorn his potion-”

“-first to show up at Quidditch practice, besides Wood of course-”

“-has caught the Snitch at every single one I must tell you-”

“-and, surprisingly, I heard that he’s asked Cho to-”

The girl felt her guts twist into an uncomfortable knot. “Well it seems like he’s doing just fine without me,” she interrupted, legs wobbly as she stood up from the bench, grabbing her book and bag with shaky hands.

Fred and George didn’t seem to notice her exit after the statement, for they soon got into a mini argument about which is better: the lemon tarts or the apple pie.

Tears pricked her eyes as she left the Great Hall.

Of course Harry had moved on already. It was no surprise, since he broke up with her and seemed to run off as quickly as he could, almost like while they were dating she had him tied up.

Frustratingly wiping the on-coming tears, she hurried to Defense Against The Dark Arts, a class she shared with Harry (both fortunately and unfortunately).

She entered the classroom, the heavy feeling still present in her chest.

She tried to ignore her brain repeating the twins’ words about Harry- how did they put it?- “doing better than usual”.

Sitting down, she took her quill, parchment, and ink out only to discover something was missing in her bag. Her book was missing. She must have left leaning on the orange juice jug.

“Merlin help me,” she mumbled, groaning softly to herself and brain already coming up with a plan to retrieve it. She’ll have to get it on her way to Divinations, even though it’s all the way in the tower at the top of the school.

She was focusing on unrolling her parchment for notes when she heard someone clear their throat beside her, and, looking up, she saw the brightest green eyes she had ever seen.

Her breath caught in her throat, heart stumbling on it’s beats. He had an interesting expression on his face, an awkward smile upon his lips.

His hands held up her thick book, holding out to her as if he was afraid of its touch. “Um.. you left this.”

“Oh,” she breathed stupidly, reaching out and grabbing the book from him, painfully noticing how he was avoiding any accidental contact of their hands. “Thank you, Harry.” His name fell out of her lips far too easily, and it tasted so familiar on her tongue that it hurt.

His lips didn’t waver, nor did they widen, still nor did they part to speak. He walked away fairly quickly, and the way her vision blurred, the colors of his robes and dark hair blurring together in her eyes didn’t go ignored.

Something rushed through her, a hot, embarrassed flush rising to her cheeks and washing all over her body.

It felt unnecessary to cry, for he was doing a nice deed, but maybe it was the fact he didn’t say anything, avoiding any additional second of interaction so he could get away faster. It hurt to think back on how fast he was to leave; it was a shame on how she kept purposely thinking about it. His facial expressions. His hands avoiding contact.

It was like she was a disease he didn’t want to catch.

She ignored her wet eyes for the rest of the lesson, scrubbing notes down on how Mars is helpful for discovering what the future holds.

That night she had a strange dream. It had her rolling around, sleeping body confused on what her brain was doing to her, yet if one would see the soft smile on her lips they would then know it wasn’t a nightmare.

Her dream self was walking in the corridors with no shoes on, her socked feet quiet on the ground. It was strangely cold yet she was wearing short sleeves, her hands rubbing her arms to keep them warm. She didn’t know where she was going, at least she sleeping self didn’t, but her dream self did.

She travelled to an empty classroom, turning the dust covered doorknob and the space so dusty that not only was it imbedded it the corners of the walls, but it was also floating in the air, yet she didn’t cough.

In front of her was a mirror, and the only reasons she noticed it was because of the moonlight shining on its reflective surface as well as it being the cleanest item in the room; its shiny surface standing out generously.

Her dream self furrowed her eyebrows, and if one would look at her awake self they would see her actual brows furrowed, almost like she was having a bad dream.

Yet it was only out of confusion and curiosity, for she was wondering why the mirror was there.

She walked over to it, planning on touching the surface to see if it was as smooth as it looked. It didn’t have a single fingerprint on it.

As she reached out though, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and, looking up, met her own eyes.

She stared for a couple seconds before someone came up behind her, smiling as they made eye contact.

It was Harry.

Standing right there, holding her hand in his, the grip so genuine it made her want to smile.

She whipped her head around, begging for it to be true. “Harry-”

No one was there.

Just dust floating in the moonlight, and somehow the sight made her chest squeeze.

It looked so clear. So real. Like just looking at his hand holding hers made it feel like his skin was actually touching her. Why could she see him in the mirror, yet not beside her?

“Ahh, you saw Harry?”

This time there was someone there, Albus Dumbledore in all his silver beard glory, light blue robes on his body and sparkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles.

“Professor Dumbledore.”

He smiled at her in greeting, walking towards her slightly, leaning against the wall closest to her and slowly sitting down, crossing his legs like a preschooler sitting on the carpet, waiting to hear the teacher’s story. He didn’t say anything, just patted the floor beside him as an invitation.

Though hesitant, she moved away, away from the view of Harry in the mirror, and sat down next to him, reflecting his pose.

It was silent for a couple beats before Dumbledore’s soft voice broke it. He turned to her, smiling. “I see you’ve found the Mirror of Erised.”

Her head perked up, eyebrows raised. “What does it do?” She wondered, already thinking of possible reasons she saw Harry of all people in it.

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask,” Dumbledore said sarcastically, folding his hands in his lap. “When one looks into the mirror or Erised, they see their deepest and most secret desire.”

“So you’re saying that Harry is my deepest desire?” She asked, and her heart beat quickened when Dumbledore’s smile turned into a soft grin.

“I didn’t say that,” he reminded quietly, his voice smooth and gentle. “But it is you that has implied it.”

“I-” she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should tell him her dilemma. “Me and Harry broke up, Professor. And I… I guess I miss him.”

The confession was both a little embarrassing and reviving the finally tell. The words felt stupid, yet she was relived that she could finally discuss with someone about it.

Dumbledore eased her embarrassment instantly when his lips stretched into an understanding smile. “Ah, young love, do they call it?” He asked, making her smile softly at him. “But you and I both know that deep down you can’t stay in sorrow forever, you must act upon it, take courage and do what you feel is right. You are in Gryffindor for a reason,” he explained. And the way he spoke, the way he put words together to comfort her, was enough to warm her insides.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, getting up to leave, and he stood up as well, looking down at her gently smiling.

“Of course,” he almost whispered. “Now off to bed, little one, you don’t want Prefects discovering you were here.”

She bid him goodnight as well, turning to leave, before she turned back, eyes with a hint of curiousity. “Professor?”

He turned to her, smiling as a signal for her to continue.

“Is this real?” She asked. “Is this a dream? Is it happening inside my head?”

His smile didn’t waver as he smoothed out his robe sleeves, as they were rolling up naturally. “Of course it’s happening inside your head. Why should that mean that it’s not real?”

The girl woke up in a strange daze, mind fuzzy and she tried to recall the dream she had. It felt real, yet she had this distinct feeling it was all a dream, despite what Dumbledore said.

Yet, as she looked at her fingertips, she still had a hint of dust coating them from the dusty doorhandles of the classroom.

Ever since she woke up that day, she’d been thinking about Dumbledore’s words, advising her to do the thing she thought was right.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint which other she should take, since she had many options what she could do. Well, at least many options on how she should chase Harry down and force him to talk to her. At least then he could say how he was really feeling, good or bad.

1. Tell Hermonie that a friend of his said to meet him in the library, yet it is her.

2. March across the table and grab him by the ear. (Lower on the list but still an option)

3. Walk up behind him and whack him in the head with the very book he returned to her

At the end of her list, she decided that all of them were complete rubbish and she should properly offer him a chat between them.

So, when she left the Great Hall that morning, (glancing at Harry as often as possible, just as usual but this time felt different) she chose to chase him down in the corridors. They had a free period in the morning, which was rare, but nice and the perfect time to talk to Harry; no excuses about having to be in class.

And Dumbledore was right, she thought as she marched towards the dark haired boy and his friend with the reddest hair imaginable. She was in Gryffindor for a reason. She could do this, right?

Just as she was about to quit, she realized she was already so close to them so why not go with it?

Grabbing his robe sleeve, she yanked the boy outside in the courtyard onto the grass away from Ron. His protests were ignored as they moved further away from him, and he didn’t bother to interupt their upcoming conversation.

“Wha-”

His voice cut off as she led him to the boys dormitories, practically dragging the poor boy up the stairs and opening his door, closing it once they both entered.

She placed him in front of her, making eye contact for the first time of their interaction.

“Harry, I need to talk to you, if you will,” she requested, keeping her voice steady. She then realized she was still holding onto his robes, and, with a soft stroke to ease the possible wrinkles, she took her hand away, cheeks slightly flushed.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, hands fidgeting by his sides. “Okay.”

She was a little surprised that he wasn’t arguing against her, just standing there shrugging like it was no big deal (then again he could’ve fought back the whole journey to his dorm but he let himself be dragged). Was the girl that he broke up with talking to him not meaning anything to him? Was he that over her that he could look at her and not feel anything?

The thought made her chest squeeze, yet she stood her ground and made eye contact with him once again. “I-”

She hesitated, fidgeting with her fingers just like he was. She was going to be honest, she had the confidence to walk up to him and take him to a private place, yet now that she thought about it, she never planned out what she was going to say.

He raised his eyebrows questionably, waiting her to say something.

She gave him a nervous smile, wiping her now sweaty palms on her robes. “I’ve…..missed you.”

Harry took a sharp intake of air, licking his lips and looking away from her quickly. He practically looked anywhere but her.

“You shouldn’t,” he said simply, leaning his weight on one leg to the other.

She suddenly felt tears arise in her eyes but she blinked them away, looking at the sky for a moment to keep them held at bay. Maybe it was what he said that brought the unwanted tears, yet she deep down knew it was because he couldn’t relate to her feelings. He didn’t miss her like she missed him, and what he said showed that.

“I know,” she almost whispered, voice so quiet like it always was when she wanted to cry.

“Good,” Harry murmured, and he started to walk around her towards the door, ready to turn the handle, giving flashbacks to her dream, grabbing the dusty doorknob-

“Wait, Harry,” she said, reaching out against her own accord, gripping his robe sleeve so hard he must have felt like he was being yanked then being held back.

He looked over his shoulder at her, slowly turning to face her yet her hand still stayed on his sleeve. He was met with her blurry eyes, tears streaming down her face silently. Her lips were parted, almost like she was gasping for air.

“I can’t help but miss you because there’s no-one like you, Harry,” she started. “I’ve tried to date other people, going on dates, sitting across from them but I’m only picturing your face instead of theirs. I- I love you, Harry. And there’s no one out there that I will love the same way I love you.”

Harry stood there, his robes still in her hand and his own wrapped around the door handle. His fingers left the object slowly, stepping forward making her arm not have to reach over so much to keep him from leaving.

His lips adjusted themselves, then parted while he figured out what to say. “I..I can’t be with you,” he spoke, almost whispering, and the sentence both broke and healed her at the same time.

“Yet Cho can be with you?” She couldn’t help but snap back, and tried to ignore the way he stepped back, a surprised look on his face.

“Cho? What does she have to do with this?”

“Fred and George told me you asked her to the Yule Ball, so don’t ask other girls out to dance with you if you say right now that you can’t be with me. It’s hypocritical.”

The anger in her voice was obvious, tear streaks still sticky on her cheeks yet her eyes weren’t as wet as they were previously. Now her eyebrows were bent in frustration towards him, all the unanswered questions piling up.

“You want to know why I asked her? It was because all I could think about was you. Every morning when I wake up and before I close my eyes to sleep at night, every thought is overturned by you. And I’ve tried to distract myself with school work, and you may have noticed, but nothing works. Even Cho can’t replace you,” Harry huffed out, shoulders going up and down slowly as he took in breaths.

“Then why did you break things off? It seems like we both feel the same way,” she pointed out, her heart sputtering at the thought of him thinking about her all the time, yet why did he break her heart if that was the case?

Harry took a deep breath, walking up to her and grabbing her hands, bring them up to his lips as he gently kissed her knuckles. She felt like she was a flower and he was trying not to wrinkle her bloomed petals.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt, I am the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, and everyone is siding with Cedric, meaning that everyone hates me. I didn’t want to hate to aim towards you, so to protect you I broke us apart,” Harry whispered, looking into her eyes and trying to find a speck understanding, a spark of hope brewing in his chest, hoping that she would now see the reason he left her and take it as a valid one.

She did understand, but confused at the same time on why he didn’t choose to communicate. “Harry, in a relationship there is two sides, you and me. When there’s an issue on one side they discuss the issue with the other person, as you should with me. And I understand if you want to protect me, for I want you to be protected more than anything else, Harry, but we have to talk to each other,” She explained gently, and she was running her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. His eyes behind his glasses were closed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every stroke she made with her hand.

“I…I didn’t want to lose you- you mean everything to me,” Harry whispered, his green eyes opening as he said this, glittery eyes looking at her making his statement much more meaningful than it already was.

Her heart must of stopped, a pause of nothing that she could feel expect pure love towards the boy in front of her. Messy hair and all, she loved every part of him.

“You won’t lose me,” she whispered. She then smiled softly, moving her hands from his hair to his collar of his shirt, pulling him in by it, and kissed him. His lips tasted just like she remembered, and it felt like water finally reaching through the dam, a mix of emotions her heart could nearly handle. His lips were soft and gentle against hers, pressing back with as much love he could muster. Her heart felt like a blooming flower, Harry being her sunlight that was needed for her petals to expand.

She pulled away, his head almost instantly dipping into her neck to kiss the skin there with soft touches. “I love you, you know that right? I’m sorry I hurt you; it was the last thing I ever wanted.”

Each word was murmured into her hair, the strands preventing his voice to be fully heard, yet she could tell- feel- that he meant every word.

She turned her head and gave him a long kiss on the cheek, feeling his skin tingle under her lips.

“I know, Harry. Im just glad we worked it out.”

And she was, that was for sure, for now she had Harry back.

Her Harry.

[thursdayinspace]

fic master post

wild side - G, 1,205 words (AO3 link)

“Hey, Scully?” “Yeah?” “What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” Or: sometimes being stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night with your work partner of five-plus years is the best possible version of events.

in conclusion - T, 3,370 words (AO3 link)

It's the middle of the night in a freezing cold motel room and they both haven't slept. The best time and place to figure out how relationships work -- theirs in particular.

time and space - M, 2,604 words (AO3 link)

Sometimes he wonders if it would be easier if she'd be gone from his life completely. Then he reminds himself: if she moved to the ends of the earth he would still want to follow her. And when she calls, he always answers the phone. Set during the revival era. They always find their way back to each other.

five ways to says "I love you" (and one with words) - T, 4,501 words (AO3 link)

Just because something is unspoken, it isn't always unsaid. You just have to know what to look for.

sanctuary - T, 1,550 words (AO3 link)

In a world full of lies and fear and darkness, they have each other to be the light and shelter that they need. That's something to hold onto. They watch each other sleep and consider everything that means.

pick up the pieces - Explicit, 1,641 words (AO3 link)

There is nowhere she would rather be than here, with him, making the biggest mistake of her life and enjoying every second of it. Every mistake made with him is greater than every win, every success, every moment of perfect joy she has ever experienced. She’ll break herself for him as he does for her. -- Set in early season 2, right after Scully's return.

travel in style - G, 1,401 words (AO3 link)

“I can’t believe there wasn’t a single room available anywhere,” Scully says, snuggling deeper under the jacket she’s using as a blanket, already sounding half asleep as she tilts the driver’s seat back into a reclined position. “Three motels and not one single bed to be found.” Mulder shifts in the passenger seat – which she had insisted he should take because of the leg room – and desperately tries to get comfortable. “That has literally never happened before,” he agrees, sliding the seat back as far as it will go. It’s still too cramped. “God, Scully, how can you ever sleep in the car? You always make it look so easy.”

from this morning forward - Explicit, 7,233 words (AO3 link)

Moving back in happens slowly. It's not a decision, it's not a plan. They've each battled their own demons, and now that the wounds are starting to heal, she's so tired of pretending that she doesn't miss him every day. After all, through the good times and the bad, it's always been the two of them, together. -- Set during the revival era.

it's the day the world didn't end - Explicit, 1,544 words (AO3 link)

The clock ticks over to the day the world doesn’t end and he kisses her. She kisses him back. It’s not a new year’s kiss, it’s a kiss more than six years in the making. -- Millennium fic.

got you covered - T, 2,419 words (AO3 link)

“Is it a bit cold in here?” He wraps his arms around himself, looking at her in her thick cardigan next to him on the couch. “The heating’s broken,” she says. “I’m sorry, I should have called you before you came over.”

the words behind the meaning - G, 3,175 words (AO3 link)

He tells her he owes her everything and she owes him nothing. She knows that's not true, but she doesn't get to tell him. Life has other plans. But she knows. And once life lets her, she will tell him. -- Post-Fight the Future: they don't kiss in that hallway, but they get there eventually.

tuesday - M, 894 words (AO3 link)

They get married on a Tuesday. It just feels like the time is right. They've waited long enough; it doesn't matter that they're only just beginning to realize that.

yesterday's future - Explicit, 3,189 words (AO3 link)

They deserve to be happy. It's not too much to ask. It's something worth fighting for, something to hold onto; the light at the end of the tunnel. That is the one thing they promise each other above all else: a future where they don't have to run anymore.

spectacular - Explicit, 2,238 words (AO3 link)

They make rules, and they make them for good reasons. No kissing at work. Definitely no sex during work hours. And they would absolutely, definitely, under no circumstances ever break their own rules. (with wonderful art here)

ellipsis - Explicit, 3,758 words (AO3 link)

He's a free man again – it’s what they’d barely dared to dream. Now, she barely dares to ask him what he wants to do with his freedom. He doesn’t know.

beyond a doubt - T, 1,164 words (AO3 link)

Maybe their second meeting will be better than their first. He’s here even though the world has fallen apart. And she’s afraid. What will she do, what can she do if it’s not really him? If they have succeeded at last, destroyed him and left only an empty, Mulder-shaped hull in an awful prison suit. or: the kiss from The Truth, told in 1,000 words.

no longer dreaming - Explicit, 2,626 words (AO3 link)

She refuses to do anything while he still has his arm in a sling. And while his body is straining towards her with every cell, deep down he’s grateful. All these years they’ve waited. He doesn’t want to rush this now. -- Post-millennium, they finally let themselves have what they've both wanted for so long.

home furnishings - Explicit, 5,008 words (AO3 link)

It starts with a sprained ankle and frustration about a broken chair. He knows it’s not IKEA’s fault. He and Scully have gone through a number of chairs over the years. But he thinks a billion-dollar multinational company will survive the scorn of one grumpy customer. (or: Mulder writes reviews. Mulder also loves Scully.)

all after such a desert - Explicit, 31,990 words (AO3 link)

He would rather stick his fingers in a wall socket than hurt or upset her, ever. He keeps waiting for this love to start hurting the way he knows all love hurts at some point down the road. But he’s loved her for years and here they are. Tentatively, timidly, his soul is still reaching for hers, asking it to soothe old hurts and pain. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to be enough, but he’ll try, he’ll try. And hope that eventually, maybe, one day he will deserve her, if he just tries hard enough. In which Mulder learns what it truly means to be a whole person to someone.

every possible way - Explicit, 7,268 words (AO3 link)

There's a first time for everything, but when the thing itself defies explanation, maybe there are more firsts than just the one. Or: five moments and everything between and after.

lucky stars - Mature, 12,212 words (AO3 link)

After the events of Syzygy, Scully feels that things are strained between her and Mulder. She thinks maybe some time away from each other will help, but sometimes things don't quite work out the way you planned them.

unremarkable days - various ratings, ongoing series of standalone ficlets (AO3 link)

A series of ficlets describing days in the life of Mulder and Scully at the Unremarkable House. These will be more or less standalone ficlets, so I'm leaving it as a WIP for as long as I can think of more mundane everyday adventures to add. Ratings will vary from G to Explicit but you can skip parts without losing track of the plot. This will be fluff for the most part, with the occasional sprinkling of angst lite; details will be given in the notes for every chapter. Mainly, this is the two of them learning to stop running.

future imperfect - T, 12,525 words (AO3 link)

Mulder is back from the dead. Scully hoped this would be the end of her grief, that everything would be okay. But nothing is ever quite that simple, and navigating their way into the future is still no easy task. (alternate season 8 fic)

More short ficlets under the cut:

distractions - G, 1,181 words (AO3 link)

He wants to ask if she’s okay, but he knows the answer to that. And she’s told him more than once that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She says she has no memory of what they did to her. Sometimes he’s not sure he believes her.

coffee and pancakes - T, 1,881 words (AO3 link)

It’s amazing, he thinks, how quickly you can get used to things just because they feel right. It’s been no more than a few weeks since they unpacked the last of her boxes; there hadn’t been many to begin with. She had left a lot of stuff behind when she’d moved out and barely acquired new things during the time she’d been away. Everything is back where it belongs now. or: Scully has moved back in and Mulder is realizing that a home is not just four walls and a door.

the ginger invasion - G, 723 words (AO3 link)

Mulder is sick. He never gets sick, and it's awful. It's terrible. Scully will be wondering why he isn't at work. He should call her. He just about manages to lift his head and there she is, Scully, in his bedroom doorway.

starstruck - G, 671 words (AO3 link)

"So, I guess she's sticking around, then?" Frohike asks, and Mulder looks up from . . . whatever it is Byers just put on the screen in front of him and nods. "Seems that way. At least for now." -- Mulder has a crush. The gunmen know it.

how many stars - G, 472 words (AO3 link)

"What are you thinking?" she asks, and he turns his head to the side, looks at her. "The universe," he says.

had you big time - G, 540 words (AO3 link)

"I've thought about our weekend away," he whispers against her lips, before he kisses her again. "I've had the perfect idea."

tasting raindrops - G, 385 words (AO3 link)

She laughs with him and can't look away, raindrops clinging to his lashes, water dripping from his nose -- not kissing him in this moment would defy every law of the universe.

what time do you call this? - G, 495 words (AO3 link)

He stirs as she carefully lowers herself onto the mattress and she pauses, not wanting to wake him. It's way after midnight and it's enough if one of them will be entirely sleep-deprived the next day.

heaven and hell - T, 996 words (AO3 link)

Hell doesn’t burn. There is no pit of fire. Heaven isn’t a green garden under a cloudless sky. Everything is made of moments, and they don't happen on schedule. But often, they happen with his hand in hers.

and assorted ficlets on tumblr that aren't on AO3

[imaginesbymonika]

Tender | Interlude

Pairing: Robbie Williams × Gallagher!sister reader

Plot: There's nothing more heartbreaking than appearing in your (secret) ex-boyfriend's new biopic. Especially when it reveals unknown truths that shift the almost forgotten past into a brand-new light...

Previous Part

A/N: it’s been a while, i’m sorry!!!!!

(2024)

After they got married and went on their honeymoon (somewhere on the coast of Italy in a tiny bungalow with its own private beach), Y/N and Mark moved into two separate places. They both had met their fair share of divorced couples, and those always claimed that if they could have done one thing differently it would have been their living situation.

Over the last twenty years, they have moved approximately seven times. However, they are never too far away from one another. At this moment, they need ten minutes to walk from one place to the other and three if they take their cars.

The woman sighs. Her bedroom is dark and only a bit of light is shining through the (almost closed) blinds into the small space. For some unbeknownst reason, one of the street lamps is right underneath the window. Usually, she doesn’t mind it. After all this time she has gotten somewhat used it being there. Mark hasn't. He always whines about it whenever he sleeps over.

He loves to make witty comments about it too, something along the lines of "one day I’ll fucking toss a stone at it". Y/N would laugh until they fell asleep. Like teenagers, in a way. Yeah, like teenagers.

Right now, however, it doesn’t make it easier for her to fall asleep. It’s almost like it’s her first night trying to ignore it.

They both have their traditions. Like any other couple, she assumes. For example, whenever Mark finishes a Take That Tour he always comes to her apartment first. Always! When the last concert ends, he jumps into the very first plane to return home to her. In some interview, which took place ages ago Gary explained that Mark is almost like a maniac in that way: “He always calls a taxi during the time we prepare for our encore.“ “I have to get back to her.”

He eventually walks through the door, and drops everything he owns, before joining her in bed (considering how he mostly arrives throughout the night). Then Y/N makes a sleepy comment whining about his smell. Tells him to take a shower first. „God, where are your manners? You stink.“ He only laughs and whispers:“ I couldn’t wait…Can you blame me? I have the most beautiful woman in the world waiting for me in our bed… and you’re telling me to take a shower before seeing her? You’re being crazy.” She would giggle like a schoolgirl. Then they’d kiss.

It‘s currently 5 AM. All planes that departed from Brazil yesterday evening should’ve landed in London at around 3 AM. The drive from the airport to her place is 18 to 20 minutes. Mark should be here by now. Next to her. She should have complained about his bad smell two hours ago. Y/N swallows thickly. She feels sick to her stomach.

She wanted to talk to him about it on the phone. About Robbie and the whole movie situation. But Mark didn’t. "I just- I want you to know, that I never cheated on you.“, she explained after a few seconds of suffocating silence:“ Never! I need you to know that. I know this looks bad. But I never did that. The moment we both got together, Rob and… Robbie and I never touched one another again.“ But by the time she finished speaking, he had already hung up on her.

Y/N sighs while slowly sitting up. Something hefty is laying on her heart. It’s been there for a while now. Her eyes shift to her wedding ring, which sits neatly on the small table next to her bed. Mark‘s fingerprint is on the inside of it and the glow from the outside is reflecting on the gold. God, how she misses him.

Suddenly, she hears how someone unlocks the front door and without wasting a second she stands up. Y/N quickly makes her way down the stairs and towards the hallway. And once she gets to the doorframe she makes eye contact with her husband. He puts his suitcase down with peaceful force. The sound of it echoed through the silent apartment. Something is hiding in his gaze; he‘s hurt. There is no denying the truth.

And Y/N comprehends that she is the one to blame for it. They both stare at one another before Mark tosses his keys into a small bowl next to the mirror.

He inspects her features for any other emotion other than remorse, but when he isn’t able to find anything he takes a deep breath:“ The flight got delayed.“ He walks a few steps up to her:“ You were worried, that I wouldn’t come home to you.“ It’s a declaration. He doesn’t have to ask her. After all this time he can read her like an open book. And with one swift movement, he pulls her into his arms:“ Darling, I thought you knew… I always come home to you.“

[sunarots]

so high school ━━━ atsumu miya

39. petty ♡

The sun peaks through Atsumu's curtains, brightening up the darkness behind your eyelids. You groan, rolling over to pull Atsumu closer to you. When you reach out and feel nothing but the bed, you sigh knowing that you should probably get up if even he was awake before you.

You grab one of Atsumu's hoodies from its spot on the floor, giving it a quick sniff before pulling it down over your head. You take a quick glance in his mirror, flattening down your hair in an attempt to look the least bit presentable. You pull the door open, hearing far-off whispers from the kitchen. You try to strain and catch what's being said, assuming Atsumu's telling them about last night's confession, yet you can't hear what anyone's saying.

Rubbing at your eyes to clear the sleep from them, you make your way towards the voices. "Morning!" you call through, the talking stopping.

"Uh- mornin', angel!" Atsumu calls back to you before whispering something else. He steps in front of you before you can enter the room, a sheepish smile on his face. "How'd ya sleep?"

You smile up at him. "Pretty good. I'm starving though, can I get through?"

Atsumu looks behind himself and tightens his grip on the doorframe, pausing before stammering out a reply. "Um, why don't I bring it out to ya? Go back to bed!"

You furrow your eyebrows, trying to see past him. "What are you hiding?"

He shakes his head, tries to assure you it's nothing. "It's okay, angel. I'll take it to ya-"

You manage to get him to move out of the way, revealing to you the kitchen full of your friends. You feel yourself shrink when their eyes all set on you.

Atsumu rests his back against the counter, pulling you towards him and draping his arms around your neck whilst you faced the boys. "Tell her what ya just told me," he says, narrowing his eyes at them all.

"We are all so sorry for how we reacted," Wakatoshi starts, straightening up his posture on the other side of the room. "We acted like children. We should have heard you out."

"We thought you were making up the entire relationship, and you slipped up on the story. And then when you came in still all loving with him, we thought that... We thought so wrong. We were thinking, at least own up to it. But we should have given you the chance to explain yourself at the game. You must have felt so..." Kuroo trails off, eyes settling on the floor.

Kageyama takes a step forward, his hands shoved inside of his pockets. "When Atsumu told us what dicks we were, we snapped back into reality. I- I'm sorry. I am. I was thinking that we'd fought over nothing and I was hurt. I thought you were throwing our friendship away for a fake relationship. I feel like even more of a dick than I was already being."

You press your lips together in a tight line, a futile attempt to stop your tears from falling. You lean back fully against Atsumu and smile a little. "You guys must feel really bad if he's said the words I'm sorry."

Kageyama laughs along with you, removing a hand from his pocket and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "More exhausting than the match yesterday. Can I go lie down?"

You look up at Atsumu and smile. He uses one of his thumbs to wipe away your tears before dropping his arm back in place.

"Right, not to ruin yer moment, but I need to go to practice. Can I trust ya not to turn on y/n before I come back?"

"Depends on how much she talks about you, Tobio needs time to recover from his embarrassing loss yesterday."

Atsumu burts out laughing at Wakatoshi's comment, kissing your cheek before making his way out. Before he leaves, he turns with a wide smile. "Make sure ya talk about me a lot. Ya need revenge on them!"

You roll your eyes at him, pushing yourself to sit up on the kitchen counter. Your eyes drift over everyone, trying to fight your smile.

"So, you love him?" Kenma speaks up for the first time, leaning forward to look past Kuroo.

The smile creeps out despite your attempt to compress it. "I... I'm getting there. I'm almost there," you admit, resting your hands in your lap.

"When I ask this, it's not a dig," Tobio clarifies, clearing his throat. "Does he treat you well? Genuinely?"

You nod your head quickly. "He does. He's the best. He's such a sweetheart, nothing like what everyone says. I can tell that when he says he loves me that he's telling the truth. He shows it all the time, too. I managed to get him to watch horror movies with me. He's agreed to watch the Saw franchise, I don't know how I did that. I'm proud of myself." You turn your attention to Wakatoshi. "I can't believe you took me out of your twitter bio."

He lowers his head, Kuroo dramatising a gasp. "I'm sorry. I feel-"

"I'm only teasing. But still, that was a new level of petty, I love it," you interrupt, waving your hand. "Wakatoshi, you are now officially my number one hype man."

Tobio's jaw drops, turning his head between the pair of you. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't believe how easy you replaced me. I've hardly been gone."

"Hey, be lucky any of you are even in here right now. Atsu was pissed. What did he say to you guys?"

Kenma raises an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

Shaking your head, you look around them all suspiciously. "I didn't even know he spoke to you guys. I thought he just had to do something with his team."

"He pointed out we treated you like shit. He slapped Ushiwaka with his words. He also kept calling you the love of his life," Kenma says, shrugging his shoulders. "It was gross. But he was right. We all feel like shit for what we did."

“As long as next time you guys actually hear me out, then we’re fine,” you joke, lowering yourself off the kitchen counter. “Now, how about we watch a movie? That way, we don’t upset Kags by talking too much about my boyfriend who destroyed his team yesterday?”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.

taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax @giocriedpower @sophosphorescent @gigiiiiislife @zazathezaer @rrosiitas @iaminyourfloors @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sillygooseymood @ellouisa17 @wakashudou @punkhazardlaw @arminswife12 @libbymeows @thomatri @nanamis-right-tiddie @xerophyides @softpia @from-mae @nymphsdomain @eccedentesiast-sapphic @luvly-writer @tojirin @corvid007 @lollbecca @ferntv @mochroialainn

[anystalker707]

A little show

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender-neutral] Reader Kinktober prompt: Obedience Tags: he's so lovely / masturbation / dirty talking (?)

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          You’d been sitting on a wooden box on the top deck during night watch for a few minutes—before that, you were up in the crow’s nest until you started to feel restless, deciding to wander around for a little. Night watches weren’t necessarily the most interesting thing ever, and it’d been a particularly agitated day that now faded into boredom; the crew had just left the last island by the beginning of the night, and most of them went to bed earlier than usual. You were busy observing the stars in the dark sky when footsteps brought you back to reality, but you didn’t look away from the sky. That pattern of steps was familiar.

Sanji soon came into view, holding a plate in hand. He smiled a little bit, eyes averting away once you looked up at him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, we couldn’t spend a lot of time together today. I prepared this for you.”

The plate that Sanji offered you had a small portion of dessert on it—one of your favorites. Your eyebrows raised lightly as you took the plate in hand, humming softly.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You took the spoon in hand, taking a good look at the dessert before you could even try it. Sanji always put such dedication into the dishes’ presentation.

Meanwhile, Sanji looked around, scratching the side of his neck. There was no other box he could place next to yours to sit with you, and sitting on the barrel would leave you two too distant from each other. He also didn’t want to make you sit on the floor. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he knelt down on the ground and sat back down on his legs, kind of sideways so that he could be closer to you. His head rested on the thigh that was in front of him, his cheek pressing to the fabric of your pants. Your fingers ran through his hair, making Sanji let out a soft hum, closing his eyes for a moment.

“This tastes so good,” you said while eating the dessert and wrapping your legs around Sanji, hooking your ankles together. “I mean, of course, it does. No dish of yours is ever bad.”

Sanji felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I bought the ingredients for it while we were on that island. I’m glad you like it,” he mumbled.

“I love it,” you said, tasting until the last bit of it before carefully setting the plate on the barrel nearby. Your eyes fell on Sanji, and your heart fluttered a little at seeing him there, like this. “Missed me that much? We were just apart for a few hours,” you said softly, running your hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips.

“Well, today,” Sanji mumbled. “I was very busy with dinner yesterday, so the most we did was spend time together when you sat at the table while I cooked.”

You thought back to it, slowly nodding. “Yeah, sounds like it.” Silence fell between you as you observed Sanji for a long moment, still running your fingers through his hair, taking in the image of him by your feet like that. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but it still made your chest warm all the same. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his head. “Cutie,” you whispered, and despite only being able to see the back of his head, you could clearly imagine him blushing.

Sanji nuzzled your thigh gently, pressing his face to it. “‘Missed you,” he mumbled with his voice muffled. He turned his head a little, looking up at you through his bangs with such eyes that made something in your chest twist.

“I missed you too,” you whispered with a smile.

He shifted, folding both of his arms over your thighs and resting his chin on them. “Y’know, I really missed you,” he mumbled quietly. Even with limited lighting, you could see the red tone that took over his cheeks.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned forward a little, cupping both of Sanji’s cheeks to caress them briefly before running your fingers through his strands once more. “Yeah? How much?”

Sanji pouted a little bit, his eyes averting away for a moment again. “…I need you,” he whispered quietly. He moved his arms a little so that he could rest his head against your thigh again, pressing a soft kiss to it.

No answer came from you at first; you only observed Sanji, thinking about what you could do for him without spending a lot of your energy. Nami had made you walk quite a lot through the island earlier today.

“Show me how much.” You caught his attention again, his blue eyes observing you for context. “No one else is here. You can show me how I make you feel, or just show me what you do when I’m not around. You think you can do that for me?” Your forehead touched his as you leaned forward, hands on his shoulders.

“Oh,” Sanji muttered as he looked back at you, breath hitching in his throat. Just the thought of it was making him flustered already. “Anything for you.” The idea of putting up a show just for you was exciting, honestly. Just the fact that your eyes were following each of his movements was something meaningful for him, making a shiver run down his spine in anticipation as he leaned back to give himself some space.

You leaned forward with your elbows on your thighs, eyes fixated on him, watching it as he unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled the zipper down. He pushed his pants and underwear down just enough for his cock to be out. It was only half hard, but it wasn’t something that couldn’t be fixed with a few strokes as he hissed, feeling the cold night air.

“Slow down,” you said, noticing the excessive urgency in his movements. Of course, Sanji whined, but he still did as told to. “We have all night long, after all. Give me your hand.”

Sanji pulled his hand away from himself reluctantly. Nonetheless, the frown was replaced by a surprised and flustered expression once he saw you spit on his hand, making it a generous amount. He stared at his own hand for a moment and slowly wrapped it back around his cock when you motioned for him to rush.

It felt better, of course. Sanji’s hand slid against his own cock a little easier, and he knew the eventual pre-cum would add up and make it even better later. He observed himself for a moment before looking up at you, though he couldn’t really hold your gaze—it made his mind rush and his cheeks burn more as his eyes drove away from yours. Sanji’s breath started falling out of pace as he moved his hand faster; his movements faltered when he felt your fingers on his chin to gently turn his head towards you.

“I’d appreciate it if you looked at me,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I want to see your pretty face. You make such cute expressions, did y’know that? That’s why I prefer it when we face each other while fucking. So that I can see your pretty face.”

Sanji’s eyebrows knitted together, and he bit his lip, whining a little as he tightened his hand around himself. You let go of his chin and looked down, watching his hand firmly work around his cock—it was hard in Sanji’s hand, the flushed pink tip sometimes disappearing under his hand.

“That’s it,” you whispered with a smile. The view of Sanji on his knees, sitting back on his feet like that with his cock in hand and whining for you… That was so hot. His other hand clutched on his pants, resting over his thigh. “So good for me,” you said as your eyes met his again.

Sanji nodded, taking a deep breath through his nose and slowly releasing it through his mouth while twisting his hand around himself a little, right at the base. He was starting to leak; the thick fluid already dripping down his tip.

“Why don’t you give more attention to the head, hm?” You made a motion with your hand before you rested your elbow on your thigh and your cheek on your palm. “I know how much you like to be touched there,” you muttered while observing Sanji slowly run his finger over the swollen tip, spreading the pre-cum over it; his thighs quivered. “Your legs always go weak whenever I suck your tip, and you get very loud. It also makes you cum quickly when I lick that spot under your tip, isn’t it?”

Sanji let out a shaky moan, his thumb pressing to his slit to collect the pre-cum that escaped it before he was stroking his cock again. It throbbed in his hand. Quite a sight. He took a while, but he did nod in confirmation to your words.

“Yeah,” you muttered with a soft sigh, trying to take in every single detail of the scene. “Why don’t you give it some attention as well, hm? Come on, touch all the spots you like. Make yourself feel good, sweetheart.”

“Y—Yes,” Sanji said with a soft whine. He had to take a moment, stroking his cock in a slower motion, then he finally let his thumb wander to the sensitive spot under the head. A whimper, and he placed his free hand behind himself to lean back on it, his hips bucking a little into his hand. “Mmph, fuck,” he moaned. The new touch made his cock twitch more in his hand, also leaking more.

“You look so good like this,” you sighed, watching Sanji struggle each time more to keep his hips still.

“Can I—”

“Hold it,” you cut Sanji off immediately, in a way his words lost themselves in a whine while he squirmed, thighs quivering while he held the base of his cock tightly, taking deep breaths. “Are you that easy? Do you really get more sensitive just from having me watch you?” You clicked your tongue, shaking your head as you pretended to be disappointed. It had Sanji’s eyes traveling to the ground as his head fell a little, the way it did whenever he wanted his hair to cover his face. “I already told you, sweetheart,” you said in a partially soft tone, “keep your eyes on me.”

Sanji hummed softly, shaking his head to throw some bangs away from his face. It was basically useless; some strands had stuck to his skin because of the sweat.

“Please,” Sanji whispered as he started slowly moving his hand around his cock, but he kept a certain distance from the tip, focusing on its length.

“You can hold on for a little longer,” you encouraged with a nod.

He groaned in frustration, but he complied. Sanji moved his hand slowly, always careful, enjoying the little break he had without any order aside from not cumming yet. He looked down at himself, pressing his lips together as he traced the veins along the underside of his cock, making it twitch in his hand with how his fingers made their way up.

Sanji inhaled deeply, groaning as he slowly started jerking himself off again, pressing his eyes shut. His hand was all sloppy with his pre-cum already, making it slide just nicely along his cock. It felt even better now.

“Please,” he gasped, opening his eyes again to look at you.

There was no response. Your eyes were on Sanji’s cock, following his hand’s motions, without giving his words a drop of attention. He whined, thrusting into his hand.

“Please, (y/n), please… Love of my life, my sweetheart, my dear, my everything,” Sanji mumbled among moans. Sometimes, the words ran one into the other. How cute. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you hummed with a nod, “you can cum.”

Sanji gasped, letting out a breath he had been holding as he started jerking himself off freely. He bit his lip when he ran his thumb over his tip again, muffling a moan, but it didn’t do much. He wasn’t very good at keeping silent, as much as he tried. As if proving it, Sanji’s mouth fell open with a moan as he furrowed his eyebrows and he was cumming all over his hand and part of the deck, messily moving his hips to meet his hands’ motion.

“Mmph, my love,” Sanji gasped, continuing to stroke himself through his high until his thighs were twitching, edging the overstimulation, but not quite there. He needed a second to recover, resting his head against your thigh again as he tried to catch his breath. He knew how to seek affection.

A smile tugged on your hips, your fingers running through his hair, soothingly. “That’s it,” you whispered, “you did so well, sweetheart.”

Sanji hummed softly in acknowledgment, leaning into your touches. As you cupped his cheek, he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[aviator-at-heart]

London w/ the daggers, day 1

so you might know that I love the daggers and their ✨chaotic shenanigans ✨

heres a fic idea! though im not sure if it qualifies as a fic or a bunch of headcanons or a fic idea

~

so the daggers are on leave (yet again) because the navy cant deal with their shit, also since Maverick kept pissing off admirals he somehow (thanks to his husband Tom) became an admiral himself

-DAGGER GROUP CHAT-

Hangman: hi guys

Coyote: hey

Phoenix: im so bored

Bob: same

Hangman: we need to do something on this leave, ideas?????

Iceman: anyone up for a trip?

Everyone: yes

Bob: to where

Maverick: yesterday me and ice got drunk and we bought 14 plane tickets to London

Iceman: yea what Mav said

Rooster: this isnt gonna go well

Iceman: everyone be at the airport tomorrow at 9 pm ok

Everyone: ok

so they go to London!

everyone preps for the trip while on a facetime call (everyone keeps asking Bob, the only one thats been to London, what to bring)

also everyone asked Hangman to pick them up and bring them to the airport so he reluctantly did (bad idea because everyone was piled up inside his jeep)

he has a membership to a place where you can leave a car when you travel (The Parking Spot ig) and they all unload their baggage from Hangman's car

then they get into one of those shuttle buses and gossip mindlessly

when they get inside the airport Ice and Mav are waiting there (the daggers are 30 minutes late)

Iceman: good thing I told you guys to come an hour early

they check bags in and go through security

Iceman was stopped in security because he had "something mysterious" in his bag

all the daggers side-eye the workers who stopped him and Mav keeps trying to throw hands

Mav: stop patting him down hes mine *they go into his bags* NO THAT STUFF IS HIS-

Rooster: mav stop everyones staring at you and youll be stopped too

*they search through a compartment in Ice's bag that has photos of memories*

Rooster: HEY HE HAS NOTHING TO HIDE STOP LOOKING THERE

Hangman: both of you guys, chill *he grabs both their shoulders*

Iceman was obviously chill as ice (pun intended) during this

Iceman: *sighs and takes out his COMPACFLT navy badge* may I go now

TSA worker: sorry sir, not yet

the daggers side eye more intensely

another TSA worker: sorry sir, you may go. *gesturing to the TSA worker who told Ice he couldn't leave* he's just new

Iceman: its okay *grabs stuff and goes to the daggers who are cheering and chanting "CONNOR" <- the name of the worker who told Ice he could go *

thing is, protocol wouldnt have let Ice go but "CONNOR" wanted to make a good impression

they go and wait for the plane, all the daggers play a game of uno on the floor, Bob wins, Fanboy's the one with the entire deck as his cards, Hangman was second but everyone kept fighting with him because he made up a rule

they board the plane, everyone was fighting over what seat to be in (only three window seats, five middle, and six aisle seats, two seats are in the exit row)

 ↑ I made an entire diagram for this

anyways, Hangman and Rooster were obviously put to sit together by everyone else (sereshaw ship club iykyk)

the daggers were loud af during the flight

but then it started turning dark, the daggers started to be more quiet

Rooster was quietly chatting with someone when he felt something fall on his shoulder (thanks to me its Hangman) Roosters heart flutters, he lets Hangman sleep on him, totally forgets that his entire squadron is with him and if anyone sees them hes cooked

Bob gets up to go to the restroom and sees Jake and Bradley (Bradley fell asleep too)

↓ they fell asleep like this, Jake being marinette and Bradley being adrien (I used to watch this ok)

Bob snaps a photo to send to the sereshaw ship club (again, iykyk)

Bradley wakes up first and quickly gets out of the position he was in with Jake (he still thinks no one knows)

when they land everyone gets handed an airtag by Iceman

Hangman, when he gets the airtag: you dont trust us?

rest of the daggers:...

Rooster: no shit he doesnt trust us, Jake. We're on a trip somewhere we've never been before

Bob, being the only one who didnt get an airtag: ive been here!

Rooster: shut up you arent helping me win my argument

Iceman: *ahem* DO NOT TAKE THESE OFF OKAY?

everyone says yes

they go on another shuttle to a hotel

Maverick, as they were checking in: okay guys, we only got seven rooms

*everyone groans*

Maverick: what did you guys expect?? we were drunk

*all the people in the sereshaw group chat started whispering with each other (you know what theyre planning)*

so everyone starts rapidly picking people they wanna share rooms with - Phoenix and Bob, Payback and Fanboy, Harvard and Yale, Fritz and Halo, Iceman and Maverick, Omaha and Coyote (they dont really know each other but theyre doing it for sereshaw)

then Hangman and Rooster have to share a room

they all go up to their rooms and chill before they go out for nightly sightseeing (i cant do timelines ok)

its freezing outside

after they eat they go to shopping places

Iceman goes to buy Maverick a watch secretly

Maverick goes to buy Iceman a watch secretly

Hangman gets cold, Rooster gives him his jacket (more pictures are taken for the sereshaw gc)

Phoenix goes to a jellycat shop with Bob

idk where else everyone goes but they meet each other again

~

day two will come soon

[bidisasterevankinard]

for the prompts can you do 1 and 8 I feel like they fit so good together

Nonnie, it's a little got way from me (1211 words) because I have strong Tommy feels so. here you are(I know it's not just fluff and I'm so sorry)

Sometimes there are days Tommy just doesn’t want to get up from the bed. It can be simply because he is exhausted after a long and hard shift or because it’s rainy, and cool wind, which walks all around, makes his bones and old wounds ache.  Those days are pretty easy to get through. Just take it easy, take painkillers, make sure you’re warm and watch Love, Actually in bed with cocoa. Simple and comfy.

But they're also days when he can’t get out of bed, not because of a little pain, or at least it’s not because of physical pain. There are days in his life when his head attacks him with memories of the army, or bad calls, or all the years he was looking for someone to love him, and, most importantly, for a reason to love himself. Because there were more than enough days he was rough, rude and just simply awful to himself. And all this darkness around him forever found a place in his heart and head, mainly staying low, being overpowered by his self-growth and reasons he founds to love himself anyway, by hanging outs with Eddie, sometimes with Chim and even Hen, and of course, by dates and smiles of Evan. 

Evan, this adorable dork, found the way to give him the sun to light his life enough that darkness is scared to get out. But it still is waiting for the moment when he will be too distracted and unprotected to hit again. 

Like today.

Yesterday was … a lot. He accidentally met his mother on the market where he went to get some good groceries for the meal he was planning to cook for Evan to make him feel good after the shift. The literal bumping into each other near the vegetables quickly became a screaming match, mostly from his mother’s part, because Tommy way long before stopped to try to to prove that just because he likes men, doesn't mean he's a bad person, or son, or chose the wrong way.  Eventually, he just ran away from there.

Then the dish he tried to make burned because he was too distracted crying in his bathroom. He had to order take out.

And then Evan texted him that he couldn't come tonight because they had a long and hard call, and the only thing he wanted was to fall into his bed.They changed plans from a little dinner together yesterday to spending all day together today. 

Yesterday ended as awful as it was all day. The nightmare of one of his close calls made him sleep badly after, turning half the night in his bed, trying to get the best position for sleeping, but not succeeding for more than two hours. 

So, here he is, miserable and alone in his bed, looking at the clock which shows him that Evan will be here in less than five minutes, but he is still in his bed, in his the most comfy, but really old hoodie and boxers. 

Tommy kind of wishes Evan would text him now and rain check again, not wanting to drag the man into his mess, but of course as he thinks about this, Evan opens the door.

“Hey, sleepy beauty, I brought us coffee and your favorite burgers from this cafe you like so much,” Evan’s voice, as always sunny as his face and smile, spreads throughout the small house.

The sound of the sneakers being taken off, then steps to the, as Tommy suspects kitchen, as next he hears sounds of the plates taken out. Next he hears footsteps again and then his bedroom’s door is open, to reveal his boyfriend in his dark skin jeans and burgundy hoodie, Tommy pretty sure Evan was wearing during the tour. 

“Hey,” Evan smiles at him, putting plates and coffee on his nightstand, and sits down near his face, putting his hand to stroke his hair.

Tommy will never admit he melts into the touch. But he melts and ready to purr like a kitten being pet.

“Are you having a blanket burrito day?”

“Blanket burrito day?”

“Yeah. I call the bad days, when I can’t get out of the bed because of my leg or  because of bad mood, or both,  ‘blanket burrito day’,” Evan kisses his forehead. “Are you having this today or you just want me to jump into your bed?” his boyfriend smirks and winks at him and Tommy smiles a little too.

He knows he can joke about that. Say that yes, it was his way to get Evan into his bed and maybe make out or even something more, but he doesn’t want something like that.

He needs someone to hold him. Just hold him and show him he’s not alone and it will get better.

“Can you hug me?” Tommy doesn't like how small his voice sounds and he hates how quick he folded looking at his boyfriend who with one glance knew he was having a bad day. “If-if it’s ok.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it’s ok. I love cuddles,” Evan smiles at him, taking his jeans off and lying down behind him, putting his hands around his waist.

He makes sure Tommy can feel himself touching every part of Evan’s big body behind him and Tommy wants to cry from the feeling of being safe. Protected. Loved.

They stay like that for half an hour, not talking and Tommy breaks the silence, needing to know.

“You don’t ask questions. Why am I having a bad day? What happened?,” Tommy plays with Evan’s fingers on his waist, “Or you are not even trying to tell me to stop. You aren’t telling me to male up,” he whispers it but in silence and with how close they are he knows Evan hears him.

Hands on his waist only squeeze tighter and then he feels a careful little kiss on his neck.

“We all have bad days. Especially on our job, with everything we saw. It’s normal to have them and you deserve to let yourself be sad if you feel it without trying to move on. You deserve someone to take care of you. And the reason for your bad mood isn’t so important for me to find out, if you don’t want to talk right now. You can do it on your time. Just,” Evan turns them so he can look him in the eyes. Blue to blue. “Don’t push me away. I want to be here, with you not just on good days. I want bad days too. Because you can’t live without them. But,” Evan smiles at him and kisses him so chaste Tommy wants to cry, “you can be not alone. Especially on bad days. You can share the pain with your person, making the burden easy to bear.”

Tommy just nods and lets himself get comfortable in Evan’s hands, feeling how slumber takes over him because the warmth from Evan and his breath lull him into sleep.

“I’ll tell you after the sleep,” Tommy mumbles before falling asleep.

“Take your time, baby,” Tommy feels the kiss on his shoulder, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tommy knows it’s not the promise only about today.

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