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#this is not an all or nothing thing she can do questionable things with her writing as a white woman and that doesnt mean she is a zionist?
luveline · 13 hours
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Hotch’s little sister x Spencer, they gang up on her about her safety or health or something, and she’s like “I’m happy you’re getting along, but don’t love getting ganged up on” 😂
You thought that when things between Spencer and Aaron finally became less awkward again, things would be easier. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them, but perhaps it’s not your fault. 
After all, Spencer’s the one who chose to date his boss’s younger sister. That was his idea. 
Of course, you ate up his flirting and agreed to all your dates, but still. Spencer’s fault for sure. So why are you in trouble? 
“Honey, I’m honestly a little surprised with you.” Aaron takes a deep breath. “It was a completely unnecessary course of action.” 
Surprised with you is more apt than he realises. “Wait a second, what?” You’d known you were in for a scolding from his weird text, but you have no idea what he’s talking about. 
“You went for a walk in the city alone at midnight?” Aaron frowns. “Have you learned nothing from me?” 
“How do you know I went for a walk?” 
Aaron raises his eyebrows. You look out of the window of his office and straight into the guilty face of your boyfriend. He has the decency not to look away, at least. “Spencer told you that?” 
“He did.” 
You meet the big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of your lovely boyfriend and quirk a finger at him for him to join you in the office. 
“Don’t start, honey.” 
“Aaron, I’m allowed to go for a walk.” 
“In the city? In the middle of the night?” Aaron gives you another unimpressed eyebrow raise. You glare at him, not fond of being questioned. 
“I had my phone.” 
He pinches his brow. 
“Aaron, what’s up with you? I’m well within my rights to go for a walk. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t go down any side alleys.” 
“You realise you’re being defensive with me because you know it was a silly thing to do.” 
You bristle. The door opens and honestly seeing Spencer’s little frown makes you more annoyed than you had been. “Spencer, why would you tell him my business?” 
“It came up in conversation?” he tries. 
“Spencer.” 
“I was concerned! You can’t just walk around at night in the city by yourself! Who knows what could’ve happened to you, and Hotch agrees with me, it’s too dangerous…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to tattle, and I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do.” 
“But I can,” Aaron says. “We all know you’re aware of the danger you put yourself in. Please, don’t do it again.” 
“I feel like I just went back in time a hundred years,” you say. 
“It’s an antiquated attitude, but it’s, you know, grounded firmly in reality,” Spencer says, and you’re surprised to find he isn’t shying away from you now. “It’s reckless. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 
“It would destroy me,” Aaron says without preamble. “Honey. Please, you can’t do that again, especially without telling someone where you’re going. What if somebody hurt you?” 
You pause to digest what he’s saying. He’d profiled you correctly before —you’re defensive because you already knew you were taking a risk, and you knew if he found out this is how he would react. You hadn’t suspected Spencer would rat you out, but it’s not like he’d been very happy when he learned about it for the first time either. 
“Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask. “You’re going to gang up on me whenever I do something stupid.” 
Aaron’s smile is forgiving and a little bit sorry, too, “I didn’t say stupid, did I?” 
“Reckless,” Spencer supplies. 
“Well. At least you’re both getting along again.” 
“That’s yet to be seen,” Aaron says quickly. 
You wave a hand at Aaron in the universal sign for shut up and turn your full attention to Spencer where he’s laughing in the doorway. You push him out by the chest, not bothering to wait for the office door to close before you start in on him. “That was confidential information, Spencer Reid, which you were privy to as a boyfriend, and not my brother's colleague and conspirator.” 
“I’m sorry.” He smiles, and he’s sincere. “I just knew you’d listen to him.” 
Ugh. Stupid profilers. “Sure, I’ve listened. Now I’m extremely upset and in need of lunch.” 
“Where do you wanna go? I’ll buy,” Spencer says immediately. 
That’s more like it. 
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distantdarlings · 1 day
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LET ME // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Echo - XANU
- - -
Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.
You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.
The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.
You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.
“Professor, I— you started.”
“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice.
You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…
You glanced back at up—arms crossed and lips poured—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.
“Fuck,” you sighed, pressed an exasperated fist to your forehead.
Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.
Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.
McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.
Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same question over and over again.
Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.
“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.
“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.
You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.
“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.
“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.
“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”
“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”
You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.
“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”
“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.
You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.
Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.
“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.
- - -
By the time your class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.
The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.
It had gotten to a point when he made these comments, that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.
And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.
As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.
You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.
Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.
A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.
That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.
Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.
Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.
“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”
“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.
He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.
“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.
“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”
“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.
Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.
“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.
“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”
“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.
“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”
“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”
As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.
Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your body with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.
When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.
His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.
“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.
When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.
“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.
“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.
“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”
He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.
You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.
“Theo?” you tried again.
“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.
His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.
You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.
By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.
“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.
“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.
“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.
“So, what do you think?” you asked.
“About what?”
“The project idea…”
“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”
“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.
“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”
There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.
“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.
He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.
“Don’t be nervous around me.”
“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”
“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”
“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”
His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.
“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.
Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.
The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.
Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.
“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.
“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”
You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.
“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”
As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.
“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.
He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”
“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.
His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other thigh. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.
You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.
You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”
“What?”
“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”
“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.
“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”
You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.
He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.
The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.
Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.
He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.
The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.
“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.
He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.
“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”
When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.
Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.
Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.
He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.
“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.
Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.
By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.
“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.
You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.
“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.
He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.
“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.
His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers wrapped entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.
He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.
“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”
“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”
“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.
“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.
One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.
“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”
He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.
“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.
Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.
The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting The valley of your breasts.
Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.
At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”
His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.
“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.
He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.
Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.
You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.
He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
Still, you made no sound.
“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”
Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.
At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend mixed with yours dripped down your legs.
Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.
“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.
“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.
“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.
“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.
He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.
“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”
His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.
And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.
“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.
He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.
“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.
Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.
That son of a bitch.
- - -
Tag List:
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stopbeeping · 3 days
Text
Torn - CL & MV
summary: Meeting her soulmate in the middle of the night wasn't part of the plan, but apparently Charles couldn't wait until the next day.
note: soulmate AU
warning: a teensy bit of smuttish sentence if you squint.
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“Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna get another day of community service?” 
She looked over at Max who was leaning against the elevator’s cool metal wall, eyes closed as he thought about the post-qualifying madness. Luring the journalists outside like the Pied Piper, clearly enraging the FIA officials was deliciously petty, and she knew this fixture of pettiness and cockiness would benefit her at the end of the day. But right now, at least until they stepped inside their shared hotel room, the main question was whether or not the FIA would retaliate for this move of his. 
This question wasn’t really a question to be answered, he was just thinking out loud, but she couldn’t help but step in front of him and stand on her toes to kiss his chin. “You heard what Lewis said. You shouldn’t do it, no matter how many days you get. Although, I read some posts in which they suggest a cat shelter for the location,” she added with a wide grin when he opened one eye to look down at her.
With a thoughtful hum, he reached for her hand and glanced over at the panel on the wall across the elevator to see how many floors they had left until they arrived. “A cat shelter is risky. I might end up bringing home a few,” he said with a playful smile. “So, what does it feel like to be the girlfriend of a convicted criminal?”
Rolling her eyes, she moved to stand in the door as the elevator slowed down to come to a halt, but her fingers were still laced with his as he stepped next to her. “You got community service, not a race ban,” she pointed out once the door opened, then began to walk out with her boyfriend right behind. 
“Oh, so if I got a race ban, you would be all over me?” he joked, although she could tell this wasn’t entirely a joke. 
Over the past few months that had passed since they met by total accident in a shop in Monaco, she learned that he could be dead serious about certain things. If it meant that she would love him more, he would probably go out and commit war crimes on the track for her. When she stopped in front of the door, she looked up at him with a sweet smile. “Well, I was planning to be all over you once we stepped inside the room, but if you insist, I can wait until that happens,” she said with a shrug.
Max let out a deep growl as he hurriedly forced his keycard into the slot, then dragged her inside just enough to close the door and push her back against it. His lips crashed into hers without the hint of hesitation, hands moving down her sides to reach under her yellow mini sundress and see if she wanted him just as much as he needed her after today. She moaned into his mouth when he slid his fingers between her wet folds, teasing her just enough to get her to move her hips a little, silently begging for more than that. 
She didn’t have to ask twice, he happily provided his services to satisfy her in every way possible, and she was also keen to make him feel a little better after today’s events. They made a good pair in and out of bed, with him taking his time showing her the things he loved, explaining some things about F1 that she hadn’t known before, and he was overall the sweetest and most honest man she had ever met. 
This was the very first race weekend she attended as his girlfriend, while today was the very first day when she visited the track with him. Their relationship was nothing new, his fans had already seen photos of the two of them together, but there was still something that stirred up her feelings, making her nervous from the pressure of performing well on his side. Could she live up to the expectations? Could she be the perfect girlfriend for him? 
For now, she decided to enjoy every second of this. She tried to close out every doubt, every small voice in the back of her mind telling her she wasn’t good enough. And as they were in bed with Max’s chest pressed to her back, an arm protectively wrapped around her waist, she began to believe that maybe this could be something good. He could become her home eventually. Maybe he could love her the way she always yearned to be loved. 
She woke up at one point in the night, feeling cold from the lack of physical contact. As she opened an eye to see if he was even in bed with her, she noticed a few strange things. Firstly, she didn’t have a comforter covering her. This could be explained, of course, maybe she kicked it off. Secondly, Max wasn’t there and she didn’t hear any movement from around her. Thirdly, this wasn’t their room. It was a hotel room, she could tell, but there were things missing that gave away that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. 
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and took a look around, only to find a figure standing by the window with their back to her. The broad shoulders gave away that it was a man, wearing sweats and a white shirt, although she couldn’t quite make out their face in the dark. Who could it be? She didn’t dare to say a word, not when all she could think about was how she ended up here, how this man could take her from Max’s side without a problem.
Suddenly he let out a long sigh and turned around, looking genuinely surprised to find her there. “Oh, you came!” he exclaimed happily, slowly moving closer to the bed. 
“C–came? I didn’t, you brought me here, I should–Wait,” she suddenly interrupted herself, “Charles?!”
A shy smile appeared on his lips when he turned on the light on the nightstand by her side, then kneeled next to the bed with his forearms resting on the side of the mattress. “You don’t remember, do you?” 
She had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to remember, but… Strangely, she didn’t feel like screaming for help or darting out of the room. If anything, she felt safe, maybe even safer than she did in her boyfriend’s arms. There was something about the way Charles’s green eyes were watching her, full of a level of familiarity that she couldn’t quite place. 
Charles licked his lips, then let out a soft sigh. “I know you can teleport. You know what they say about those who can do it, right?” Of course, she thought, they are the ones who have a soulmate, someone they can meet whenever and wherever they are. “But you never teleported to Max, and he never came to you either, correct?” he voiced her next thought. 
Shaking her head, she pulled up her knees and rested her forehead against them. This was so confusing. Charles said that it was her who came to him, but how could that be possible? As a child, she did have another kid she visited often, someone who also came to see her sometimes, but that was a long time ago and they hadn’t met since then. So, if she had that kid in her life, the one who could just as well be her soulmate, what was she doing here with him?
As if he could sense her turbulent thoughts, Charles gulped loudly, then stood up to sit down next to her, a hand landing on her back to rub it in a soothing manner. “That boy’s name was Marc.” Her gaze landed on him, eyes opened wide from the surprise, but she still managed to nod. Before she could ask how he knew that, he flashed a small smile at her then went, “My full name is Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. I… had a phase at the time when I wanted my friends to call me Marc. Don’t ask why,” he explained with a forced laugh to lighten the mood. 
A mix of strong emotions rushed through her body while her brain tried to process the fact that the boy who was supposedly her soulmate was the same guy who was now staring at her with those familiar green eyes. Because now that she looked into them, taking her time to examine them, she realized that she had seen them before, and not just on a photo or a video. And suddenly, without registering what she was doing, she smacked his head. 
“Ouch! Why did you do that?” he asked as he rubbed the spot where her hand met his skull. 
“If you really are my soulmate as you claim, where the hell have you been all this time?!” she said angrily, eyes narrowed at him. She was mad, yes, because back then she had been certain that boy was special, she could feel it even as a child, but then he stopped coming, and she couldn’t reach him anymore, so she began to assume he was nothing more than an imaginary friend. And now here he was, all those years later, telling her all this when he knew perfectly well she had a boyfriend. “And why now? I’m happy with Max, what do you want from me?”
At first, he was only watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like a puppy that knew they had done something wrong but were now trying to get away with it with that adorable look in their eyes, but she wasn’t having any of it. Charles soon realized that, so he took a deep breath and tousled his already messy hair a bit. “My older brother knew about this… thing that happened to us. He once overheard us talking in my room, and when he peeked inside, he saw you there. He told me about this whole soulmate thing, and… I don’t know, I got scared,” he explained with a guilty look on his face. 
“So why now? If you could stay away from me for so long, why did you have to come forward now?” she tried quietly. 
Charles shrugged. “I saw the photos of you and Max, and… I recognized you right away. You didn’t come to the races, so everything was fine, but seeing you in person yesterday? That was… different. I don’t know about you, but for me there was a spark, a rush of memories in my mind, and I couldn’t ignore it. I just want to talk. If you don’t want to leave him, that’s fine, but I wanted to make sure I have a final answer from you. Say no, and I’ll stay away,” he told her, his voice cracking a little. 
In all honesty, she was way too confused to have a final decision about this. Yes, she was a little angry that he had disappeared for so long, and she did love Max, but missing the chance to be with her soulmate? There had to be a reason why fate brought them together, who was she to resist? Was it even possible to resist this forever? With a groan, she buried her face in her hand and tried to pull herself together. “Can I give you an answer some other time? This is too much, I can’t think straight,” she asked before glancing up at him. 
Nodding, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, but he didn’t pull away, he stayed so close to her that she could feel his hot breath on her chin when he looked her in the eye. “Take your time, mon coeur.”
As she let out a sigh, her brain moved on to an important question. “So… How exactly do I get back to my hotel room?” she wondered out loud. 
“You don’t know?” Without hesitation, she shook her head. Charles reached out to swipe a strand of hair back behind her ear, but his eyes never left hers. “I assume you haven’t done this in a long time. Just relax and think about going back to that place.”
“We haven’t met since we were kids, how can you remember this?” 
With a gulp, he finally moved away. “It doesn’t matter.” She gave him a serious look, one that quickly made him talk. “The fact we didn’t talk doesn’t mean I haven’t… been around. I occasionally checked on you, but I never dared to talk to you. You were happy without me, I didn’t see the point of ruining it for you,” he admitted. 
She let out a long sigh as she thought about this. All the times she felt like someone was watching her, all the times this made her feel good instead of freaked out now seemed to make sense. It was all because of him. He was there for her, even when she didn’t know that. With a nod, she was ready to put this behind her and focus on her breathing with her eyes closed. In and out, over and over again, until her mind was clear enough to take her home to her boyfriend.  
A few seconds later she was back in the familiar room, sitting on the edge of the now empty bed. She looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand to see what time it was, and it was odd that Max wasn’t sleeping. The bathroom was dark, there was no light seeping through the small space under the door, but if he wasn’t there, where the hell could he be? His phone wasn’t there either, so she looked at her own and saw a bunch of missed calls from him. 
Without hesitation, she hit the call button and waited until she heard the familiar voice from the other end of the line. “Schatje, where the hell are you? You weren’t in the room and you didn’t answer your phone,” he said worriedly.
“I’m in our room now,” she replied, her mind in overdrive as she tried to think of an explanation. “Sorry, I think I started sleepwalking again. Haven’t really happened since I was a kid,” she lied, her heart already hurting from the fact she had to be dishonest. Max didn’t deserve this, so fuck, it was hard to keep the truth from him. 
She could hear a sigh of relief from him. “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.” 
While she waited, she had time to think. She loved Max, they were good together, but having a soulmate was rare. Should she really give up the chance to see what it was like to be in a relationship with your own? With someone who loved you unconditionally, someone who could be there anytime you needed them? Yes, her current boyfriend would probably leave everything behind if she needed him, but that was different. It wasn’t meaningless, it was just… not enough. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, to be honest. 
So, before the Dutchman could return, she picked up her phone and looked for Charles’s profile on social media, then sent him a short message. Baby steps. Just to figure out if we could be friends first. Then we’ll see where that leads us. And soon his response arrived. Anything you want. We’ll keep it a secret if you don’t want Max to know.
This was bad on so many levels, she knew she was supposed to tell him the truth about this, but should she really tell him all this before finding out if this could work between Charles and her? It was selfish, she knew, but she didn’t want to be left alone. Letting out a groan, she lay back on the bed with her phone in her stomach. No. She should be honest. Maybe Max would understand. Maybe he would give her the time and space she needed to find out where this could lead with his rival. 
Soon the door opened, and Max kicked off his shoes in record speed to get in bed next to her. “I was so worried about you,” he told her. 
Now that he was here, her previous bravery disappeared. She couldn’t break his heart. Not when he was so dedicated and clearly in love. She would tell Charles to forget about her message. It would be better not to risk a perfectly working relationship. Damn, why did this have to be so hard? Why did that stupid soulmate of hers appear in her life after all that time? 
“What’s on your mind?”
“Do you believe in soulmates? You know, especially that story about how they can teleport to each other?” she asked quietly. At first, he looked a little confused, but then he nodded as his thumb massaged her side. “I read something about it, and it made me think. If your soulmate showed up today, telling you that you belonged together… What would you do?”
“You want to know if I would leave you?” She nodded. “I would like to get to know them first. Why would I leave someone I love when I don’t even know that other person? Yeah, they might be destined to be my soulmate, but I wouldn’t want to force myself into a relationship just because of that. So no, I wouldn’t leave you. I would just spend some time with them to see if there’s any reason to believe the stories,” he replied. When she moved forward to bury her face into his chest, Max began to rub her back and placed a soft kiss on her head. “It’s not an article, is it?”
Looking up, she noticed the realization in his eyes. He knew. He was smart enough to put the pieces together. “He just showed up out of nowhere. I–I didn’t have a choice, I just somehow teleported there. He wants to see what this means, if this thing could even work,” she explained quietly, eyes shiny from the tears. 
It was clear that he wasn’t happy about it, but she could also see that he understood what was happening. “Talk to him. I don’t want to lose you because of something you have no control over. Let’s see what happens. If you want to be with him, I’ll accept it,” he told her. 
“But I don’t want to lose you, Max,” she pointed out. “That’s my biggest problem, because I’m torn between this and the feeling that maybe I shouldn’t miss out on my soulmate.”
He put his palm on her cheek and began to massage her skin as he watched her. “We’ll figure it out. Meet him, get to know him, but the moment there’s something more, something I should know about, tell me. Then we’ll discuss how to move on with this, okay?” 
“Okay. I love you,” she said, her voice laced with the emotions that were still there, and still strong. 
“I love you too,” he replied before giving her a kiss. 
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note: I wasn't entirely sure about this one, but hey, here we are, with my first story. Oops. I hope it's not that bad.
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jihyoruri · 1 day
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ SUPER RICH KIDS kim chaewon x reader
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❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick
↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is back home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, weight mentions
finally.
you’d think after everything that someone has gone through in this house, stepping back through those doors would be the last thing she’d want. but she wasn’t going to lie.
yn felt at peace.
because in the moon mansion, she could be who she truly was and not feel bad about it.
a rich girl.
“lunch will be ready soon,” jia’s voice broke through the peaceful quiet as yn lay sprawled on her pink towel by the pool.
yn let out a contented sigh, lifting her sunglasses and pushing her hair back. “thanks, jia. what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”
“you already attended the press conference with your father, so that’s off your list. your brothers will be going to the one tomorrow, so all you’ve got left is golfing with your members.”
the happy, serene soundtrack in yn’s head came to a screeching halt as she shot up from her towel.
“what?!”
“your mother didn’t tell you? she thought it’d be a good idea for you to invite them, so she reached out while you were out with your father,” jia said, her expression full of concern. she didn’t understand. shouldn’t yn be excited?
“when does she ever tell me anything?” yn grumbled, flopping back down on her towel childishly “jia, during dinner, add a splash of vodka to my mango juice. maybe the alcohol will keep me from flipping the table.”
jia chuckled softly, fondness in her eyes for the girl she’d watched grow up. “when has that ever helped anything? i’ll check on lunch.”
yn groaned as jia walked away. this was supposed to be her escape. chaewon is going to have a field day with this.
it seems like nothing can ever go yn’s way.
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dinner was quiet. but that was hardly unusual. as far back as yn could remember, dinner had never been family bonding time
bonding didn’t even exist in this family.
the unspoken rule was simple: eat in silence, speak only when necessary.
honestly, yn found the quiet pretty peaceful. just eating, no forced conversation.
but it seemed like her mother couldn’t stand seeing her at peace—ever.
maybe that was an exaggeration, but yn firmly believed it.
“you seem tense, yn,” jae said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his drink. “something bothering you? got a problem with someone?”
yn gripped her fork tightly, slowly lifting her gaze from her plate. “i do, actually. and for once, it’s not with you, dickhead.”
“language,” their father muttered, eyes never leaving the documents he’d brought to the table.
“oh really, who’s ahead of me?” jae asked clearly liking the banter him and yn are having at the moment.
“I won’t disclose any details just as yet.”
daeun rolled his eyes at his siblings, then, deciding to break the silence since everyone seemed eager to chat, he asked, “so, mom, how was your day?”
their mother beamed at the question, her smile bright and warm. oh, how she adored her son. yn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“it was amazing, honey. i was just reading an article about your sister’s group.”
“oh, really?” jae responded with mild interest.
“yes! that yunjin member mentioned how she always makes sure the other girls eat and stay healthy. isn’t that wonderful? yn, you have such lovely members.”
as far as yn was concerned, yunjin had never once asked if she was eating properly. but that wasn’t what set her off, she had kazuha who always checked in on her.
it was the nerve her mother had to praise yunjin for something like that—the same person who was the root cause of yn’s so-called “problem.”
“is that why you invited them over tomorrow—without asking me?”
yn hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but her mother’s comment set her off.
her mother furrowed her eyebrows at yn’s tone. “yes, actually. they seem like lovely girls. i was going to suggest you invite those ai girls you’re so fond of, but your judgment isn’t always the best, so i made the decision for you.”
the screech of yn’s chair echoed through the dining room. “i’m not hungry anymore, because clearly no one in this family respects me. may i be excused?”
“sure,” her father said casually, taking a sip of his wine.
“oh, come on, yn! let’s not fall back into those habits,” jae teased.
”fuck you jae!”
“language.”
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“you don’t like them, do you?”
yn lifted her head from her pillow, turning slowly to see daeun standing at her door.
“what?”
“the girls in your group. you don’t like them.”
she watched as he stepped forward and sat at the edge of her fluffy bed. “you wouldn’t have reacted that way if it were the girls from sm.”
yn hated how daeun could always read her. they barely talked nowadays, but he still knew his little sister like the back of his hand.
“it’s not that I don’t like them. they don’t like me. no matter how much I lower myself or how nice i act, it’s like they can’t get over the fact that i’m a moon.”
“you lowered yourself for them?”
yn’s eyes flicked up from her lap to see jae standing at the door, disappointment written across his face.
she nodded, feeling a wave of shame. they were raised to believe they were better than everyone else, and here she was, bending over backward for girls who didn’t even like her.
“well, that was your first mistake,” jae said, shaking his head as daeun nodded in agreement.
“you’re dimming who you are to make them feel comfortable, and they’re taking advantage of that,” daeun added, hitting the nail on the head. yn hated how right he was.
“i know you, yn. you’re a bitch—a real one,” jae said with a smirk, earning an eye roll from her. “just be who you are. that’s how you’ll show them. it seems like they can’t stand the fact that you were always going to be successful, idol or not, and they hate that.”
“woah.” yn blinked in disbelief, looking between her brothers. “for once, you two actually make sense.”
“see? a bitch.”
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yn adjusted the dior sunglasses perched atop her head, then straightened her pink ralph lauren golf dress before turning to jia.
“why are they taking so long? it’s a gated community,” she complained, tapping her foot as she stood in front of her expansive front lawn.
“patience is key, miss moon. the van is pulling up,” jia replied calmly.
yn felt anxiety creep in but quickly reminded herself of her brother's words. this wasn’t the dorms; this was her turf, the place where yn excelled.
the first person to step out of the van was kazuha, who immediately sprinted toward her.
“zuha!”
“you look so cute! i love your dress,” kazuha gushed, her eyes scanning yn’s outfit she couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed yn looked, she was completely in her element.
“thanks! my dad got it. it’s vintage!” yn beamed.
“of course he did.” yn already knew who that could be.
as she looked past kazuha, she noticed the rest of the girls gazing at her house in awe, it was kinda awkward seeing them, especially after the last time, but yn was just gonna pretend like that day never happened.
yunjin nudged chaewon, nodding toward jia, who narrowed her eyes at chaewon, causing the latter's eyes to widen.
chaewon hadn’t realized someone else was there.
yn couldn’t help but smile at that. “this is jia, the help.”
the girls nodded politely, while kazuha waved, causing yn to furrow her brows. “bow?”
the girls’ eyes widened at the unexpected demand but quickly bowed their heads.
“we treat the help with great respect around here,” yn said sternly . “so take note of that for next time.”
kazuha smiled at yn while the others nodded, a mix of confusion and compliance on their faces.
“so, who’s ready to golf?” yn asked, flashing a sweet smile.
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“you guys suck,” yn laughed, watching the girls struggle with their golf swings.
“well, not everyone has been doing this since birth,” chaewon shot back, rolling her eyes.
“you’re so right! it would take a lot to be like me, wouldn’t it?” yn teased, nudging chaewon’s side causing the girl to stumble “your form is horrendous.”
she strolled over to eunchae, adjusting the younger girl’s stance, then moved on to yunjin.
chaewon’s gaze drifted down yn’s body, taking in her outfit of course, she didn’t even know people actually wore dresses like that these days.
she was about to make a snarky comment when a loud shout interrupted her.
“ignore them it’s just the golf boys,” yn said as she corrected sakura’s form.
chaewon rolled her eyes when she heard the boys calling out yn’s name in a flirty tone.
“passed around?”
yn groaned at chaewon’s words. “I’ve only talked to them a handful of times. I barely know them.”
“i talk to the caddy girls a lot, though,” yn added, causing kazuha to laugh while chaewon scrunched her face in distaste.
“do you want my help with your form?” yn asked chaewon, raising an eyebrow.
“definitely not.”
“okay, then continue embarrassing yourself.”
chaewon opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a woman’s voice.
“yn!”
the girls turned to see yn’s mother approaching, and yn groaned, rolling her eyes. “why is she here?” she mumbled to herself.
the girls recognized the woman—it was yn’s mother.
“hey, ladies! I hope you’re having fun and that yn is being a good host,” she said with a bright smile.
the girls greeted yn’s mom with polite smiles, and she continued, “I just wanted to drop off some cute gifts i got for you all. I completely forgot about them! I had to stop the driver we just left from going to lunch.”
“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”
“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”
yn couldn’t remember them ever holding something for her achievements, and she had plenty. “right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”
the girls exchanged awkward glances; they had never seen yn like this before.
“don’t act like that. god, you’re just like your father,” her mother said, brushing off yn's feelings.
yn clenched her jaw. “is that all? you just came by to drop off gifts?”
“yes, and i wanted to check on you. stop being so moody! just like your dad. my boys are more like me,” her mom said with a smile, prompting awkward laughter from the girls.
“you see how she argues with me, such a daddy’s girl, she looks like a girl version of him as well doesn’t she?.” her mother laughs causing yn to look at chaewon who looks at back at her with a blank face.
“how about you go back to your boys? they’re probably waiting for ‘mommy’,” yn snapped, glaring at her mother.
she had never spoken to her mother this way before, but as she got older, her respect for the woman had diminished. she barely considered her mother a mom anymore.
“yes, i have to go. we’re going shopping to pick out suits for your father and brothers.”
yn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. family shopping—without her? everyone knows yn loves shopping.
“did you plan that too?” she shot back.
her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”
the girls’ eyes widened at her mother’s words, but yn remained unfazed on the outside.
inside, however, yn felt the sting. she tried to pretend she didn’t care about her mom’s opinion, but deep down, she knew she’d spend extra time on her diet after that.
“anyway, I have to go. it was nice seeing you girls! i hope you like the gifts,” her mother said before walking away.
the girls turned to yn, who stared at her mother’s retreating figure before turning back to them.
“I just love my perfect life, don’t ’ I chaewon? now let’s work on your imperfect form.”
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kanmom51 · 1 day
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I didn't know this
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*p.s. - She was his gf then and his wife now, why the need to say "his first girlfriend"? First gf we knew about more like it.
OK, so here's the thing... those are JK's eyes, sue me. And the timing of that billboard falling and the keep going..
I have a draft way back from July, me talking about JM's Who MV shoot sketch. I started writing it and found that I couldn't complete it. And now with this - I didn't know this little ever so important piece of information - maybe I can talk about it a little more (bring up some of the things I was thinking about back then).
Basically a few things stood out to me while watching the BTB.
JM being JM as usual. Beautiful, talented, shrewd.
It's quite obvious that JM is involved in the direction of the MV (we were saying...), and this is one thing that stood out to me:
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3 things stood out to me. First was his use of the word people. "...people walk past me...". The second was "for now", as in the MV's "for now". And third was "that's what I'm trying to show". So yes, this was part of JM's vision. The song's meaning chasing that muse, but also the song's MV, which is more about finding that "someone", that "who" in a more understandable language to us, being romantic love.
Song is about the intangible, MV is about corporeal, if you wish.
Watching this had me also go back to the MV itself and notice a few more things I didn't notice first times around, and with that new piece of information about Taeyung and his then girlfriend now wife, and knowing just how huge ENL was back in the day and JM's close friendship now days with Taeyung, well, it just fits so so well.
Just bringing this back for a sec before moving on:
youtube
Back to Who MV and me trying to connect some of the dots.
The scene JM is talking about, with the people, men and women, passing him by and none of them are the person he is looking for, it comes right after this:
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NO QUESTION MARK ON THERE!!!
I also noticed that before this screen falls JM's interactions, the 'people' passing him by are only women, where as after the screen falls and tells him to keep going, well, then it's not only women passing him by. Now he's not limiting himself only to finding "her"? Maybe now he's looking for "him" too? Maybe "him" is the "who" he's looking for and not "her"?
But we know that the billboard has a specific "him" on it. And even though the hers and hims are crossing his path, at this point he isn't interacting with them, they aren't the who he's looking for.
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Another interesting thing I found was that when it comes to those one on one's they are only with women. We have them before the screen falling, and after it fell and he is walking down the street people walking him by, even then, the only ones he interacts with are women. But as he is doing that, this appears on the screen as well:
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This is also right after the huge screen falls from the sky. Is this again someone or something telling him to go back, rewind, that the screen he just walked away from has the answer he's looking for?
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That he missed something, or someone...
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And we know NOTHING is a coincidence when it comes to these two, especially in their artistic decisions.
This either:
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We weren't sure at the time what it all meant.
What was JM hinting to?
What were the editors of AYS hinting to?
I know not everything about their art is about them as a couple. I've said that multiple times. Not every song is about one or the other or them and their love for each other. Not at all.
But...
That doesn't mean we should ALWAYS dismiss the possibility that it may just be about them. That some of their lyrics do have to do with each other, that some of their songs (even if they did not write the lyrics themselves) do have representation of their relationship in them, that some of their artistic decisions are about them showing their true selves and their love for each other.
We have seen songs that we just KNOW are written for the other, about the other, about their love for each other, about a moment they shared with one another, about what the other means to them. And sometimes when the song isn't there are things surrounding them that are. It can be photoshoot concepts or hints within their artistry that pay homage to the other, or that they are agreed upon hints to what they mean to each other. We have seen this with both of them during their solo journey as well.
And now with this new piece of information, which I was not aware of, coming to light I'm thinking that this isn't about a collab or a song (although I would love for there to be a Jikook song). I'm thinking that our first knee jerk reaction to this could have been the right one. That this was all about the Who. That the eyes on that screen, the one JM doesn't get to see in the MV, those are the eyes of his "Who". In the MV, but more so, you know, in real life.
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*Another p.s. - I know I've been silent since the last AYS episode has dropped. It's been a hectic week, but more so it's been hard for me to even try and put into words how I felt coming out (pun most definitley intended) on the other side of this episode. I am working on my post at the moment. The words are not coming easy, I can tell you that much. But it will come. Eventually.💜💜
191 notes · View notes
fartcloudfartcloud · 3 days
Text
Simon Riley x Maid!Reader
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based on this text post
Summary: Simon has a house cleaner come clean once a month. What happens when she goes on vacation, and you're her replacement?
warnings: sfw but theres tension 😋, will make an nsfw part two if you guys want it :), Simon being big and scary and offputting per usual, lots of internal dialogue
a/n: loved this concept, and since I actually worked a door to door cleaning job I thought this fit so well and needed to write it. hope u enjoy :)
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You took a deep breath.
These were the steps you were to take in this job. You had no reason to feel unsafe or in danger of any sort. Yet, the thought of walking up and knocking on this door had your heart in your stomach.
Simon Riley Is what the work order had listed as the clients name. Ex Military. Large German Shepard named Riley. Liked his wooden floors cleaned with vinegar instead of the regular cleaning solution. Nothing too out of the ordinary.
Except for the entry instructions. The small box on the piece of paper that would normally hold a few finely printed words, things such as "Homeowner will be not be home, key is under welcome mat"
or "Homeowner will be home and located in office on second floor, door will be unlocked"
had big, bold font to start. Your manager had to go in and manually change that detail, and knowing her, that must mean this is serious.
The box reads-
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO OPEN DOOR. HOMEOWNER IS EX MILITARY AND EXTREMELY STRICT. RING FRONT DOORBELL ONCE AND WAIT."
Yeah. Very normal and not at all gut-wrenching.
You keep taking deep breaths as you go through your routine. Read the work order thoroughly once more, try not to shit yourself, go and grab your equipment, and follow the instructions.
Easy. Just follow the routine.
Your equipment is as big and clunky as usual. With a vacuum on your back, a bucket full of microfiber towels, a backpack full of chemicals, and knee pads on both knees, you knew for sure you were a sight for sore eyes.
You're not quiet as you walk either, each step making every plastic piece of your puzzle clunk and scrape in a cacophony of reminders of why you were here. You thunk and bang your way up the front porch, eyes everywhere but the front door, still taking deep breaths as you try to just focus on your surroundings, taking note of the nice front garden and walkway as you pass.
You finally settle on the front porch, your arms dropping the bucket and preparing yourself for the big push to start this job.
One ring, you remind yourself. Then wait. Deep breath.
You look up to find the door bell, hand pulling up in a search for the button when you see him.
He must have heard you, you decide as he stands behind the screen door with his arms crossed.
Simon Riley is massive, standing what feels like a clean foot taller than you, big muscled arms bulging from his tight t-shirt. They're as big as your head, his thighs probably twice so. His face was pulled down in a heated gaze, though the bottom half of his face was covered by a black mask. He was scary as he stood there, his aura menacing and doing nothing to sooth your nerves.
Yeah, ex Military makes sense, Jesus christ.
"Ya pissed of my dog, allat noise." You jump, the deep british voice startling you as he begins chastising you. His face frowns down it you, his eyes angry. You're speachless, "Well? Talk."
You stammer as you realize you were just sitting and staring in awe, mind suddenly back on track and then derailing again as you have no idea what to say.
The routine, Jesus christ the routine what's the next step. You scramble for your binder, pulling it open to his work order page and looking up at him as you muster up the courage to speak.
"Um, are you, uh, Simon Riley, sir?" You ask, stuttering and staggering between every word.
He reaches foreword and opens the screen door, getting a good look at you first before he can respond.
"Hm. You the cleaning lady?" He questions, the hand not holding the door open now stuffed in the pocket of his pants.
"Mhm, yeah, im- uh. I'm from Housekeeping Heros, you have an appointment for, um-" you start rustling through more pages of the binder, desperate to find the information, needing to prove to yourself more then him you were in the right place.
"I know i 've an appointment," He holds out his hand and halts your movements. You relax, all the horrible conclusions you were drawing coming to an end. Though, as per usual, they were quickly replaced with new ones, his voice still short and snippy with you.
Deep breaths, girl, we can do this.
He points to your small pile of equipment. "Ya need 'elp?"
You shake your head no, suprised he'd offered. Though he just responds with a head shake, motioning to give it here with his hands. And you do, you don't even second guess it, handing him your bucket and backpack without a second word, something in you submitting to him without a care in the world.
He turns around and walks everything into the kitchen where he gently rests it on the table, softer then you were expecting. You follow him in, feeling like a stray with your legs tucked between your legs as you fet settled. He looks at you expectantly.
Not sure what he's looking for, you start explaining the cleaning process, using your binder as a reference and pointing to each section. He stands behind you, arms crossed again and chin tucked down as he nods along with your words.
He points to the vacuum on your back, "Not round Riley, ya 'ear me?" He scolds. You take note of the large German Shepard snorring lightly on the couch.
"And none o' this shite," He kicks at your knee pads, pointing to a mop he had in the corner. Thank God, cleaning on your knees always sucked, and why your bullshit company made you do it anyways was a marvel.
"Oh, thank you!" You chirped up. He seemed to scowl further when your voice pitched up, so you slink back in on yourself. Understood, point taken, sir.
You still were not feeling great, the pit in your stomach unrelenting as you organize your stuff.
He looms close by. You figured he would, not doubting the "extremely strict" next to "ex military" on your work order at all.
You start with the first step of your process, filling the bucket up in the sink and soaking your towels in the cleaning solution.
"Where's yer boss?" He grumbles from behind you, making you jump.
"Um, Nancy?" Bucket now full, you throw the towels into the warm water with a dash of solution.
"Eh, whatever her name is," He grumbles. How polite.
"Haha, um." You giggle akwardly, "she's with family right now, I think," you stutter, trying to speak loud enough that he could hear you clearly.
He just hmphs in response. As your towels soak in the water, you reach for your extendable feather duster and start wiping the top corners of the room.
"Whats yer name?" He grumbles. It shocks you when he says it. He couldn't seem to care less about the other workers name, but he was interested in yours?
You told him, quiet, "sir," peeping out after. He just hmms again, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed as he watched you work.
It was nerve-wracking, having him over your shoulder. He hadn't said anything yet, but it felt like you could feel the complaints waiting to come. You just kept up the deep breathing, taking the clothes out of the water and dispersing them on the countertops throughout the house.
He had a very large home, no mcmansion that took up half the street, but a pretty place tucked in a nice down town area. Honestly, if the home and neighborhood wasn't so gorgeous, you probably would've turned around and told your supervisor to give the damn house to someone else.
But thankfully, or not, Simon seemed to harbor a certain comfort for his homes presentation. The indoors of his home reflected it as well, the house put together like it was being staged, every inch perfectly in place.
Maybe that's why it's not so surprising when the first complaint does manage to leave his lips in the form of a hiss as you go to open a cabinet door.
"Oi, what do you think yer doing?" He hisses, rushing over to grab your wrist and pull it from the knob. You gasp as he's suddenly in your space and touching you, flinching as he does.
"Um, I just gotta m-make sure the insides don't need to be wiped down, sir," your muscles shake as you speak— him actually coming over and grabbing had you a little shook up.
He waved his hand infront of your face, dismissing whatever you have to say, "None of that. Don't need'a open nothing that ain't yours." you just nod, taking your first breath once he's finally out of your space.
That would've been a very good thing to include in the work order, Nancy.
Well, at least that's a few less things to worry about cleaning, though you may have failed your task of not shitting your pants, because good lord. He's right back to his perch on the wall, observing you carefully now.
You get into your routine, floating room to room and doing each task per the work order. You slowly scrub the slight musky smoke smell that lingers throughout, instead replacing it with the smell of cinnamon and detergent.
He likes watching you work, but he knows he doesn't show it, not a flutter or twitch anywhere to be seen. He growls small, careful, watch it, leave it, keeping you on edge through every movement.
You do move much faster than your college though, much more gracefully. He notices your wandering eyes, lingering on the photos on the wall and the dates on his calender. He let's you get away with it, for now. Figured he'd picked on you enough, should probably just let you finish your work.
That is, until you approach the end of your routine. You'd been scrubbing and whipping and Simon snipping and snyding for almost an hour now, you'd made excellent time and you hope Simon knows that.
It's all you can think about, actually. Him and the way he has you doting on him, some broken part of you combined with the fear his giant stature instills has you easily folding to do whatever he says and respond to his every grunt. It has your mind a little clouded, even more so as you swing through every step of your routine with practiced care.
It was finally time for the last step of the routine, and you shivered out a breath as you unwrapped the vacuum. Simon had sank a little further away, now sitting at the kitchen table with his eyes glued to a newspaper, anxiety settling slightly without his prying eyes.
You get the cord untangled and laid out across the carpet, searching the perimeter of the room for an outlet. You couldn't see any in the open, and not wanting to risk pissing off Simon for moving furniture, you start to round the corner in your search.
Suddenly, you're against the wall, a giant hand against your sternum as the breath is knocked out of your lungs. His face is in yours, eyebrows furrowed and breath hot on your face as he spoke.
"Tha fuck ya think your doin'?" youre confused and breathless, small under him as he leers above.
"I dont- im-" "Been nothing but nice to ya since you clambered yer way up my damn porch, and I gave you one fuckin' rule." His voiced is raised at you now, chastising you in that brazen, gravely tone. "One! and what do you go and try to do?"
You're just confused, what had you done to elicit this response from him? You thought he was complacent and quiet at the table, what of his million little rules could you have broken?
That's when you see it. Her, you should say. Rylie, the big German Shepard he'd warned you to by no means vacuum around, was bundled up on the couch, inches from where you stand.
Fuck. how had you forgotten.
"Sir, i- I didn't realize, I didn't know she was there sir i-" You desperately try to make an excuse for yourself, but he's just shaking his head at you.
"Do ya think flutterin yer eyelashes a little is gonna make everything better?" He mocks you, his big blue eyes locked on you. You shake your head no, half of it to answer him, the other half just you shivering where you stand.
"No sir- I'm sorry sir I didnt- I forgot you told me and-"
He's clicking his tongue at you, a tsk tsk to put you to shame. To your suprise, each click when straight to your core, and suddenly the heat in the room is rising. Your body is flushed and your sure your face matches, if the way his eyes crinkle when he looks up at you says anything.
His hand doesn't leave your sternum, as he speaks, Inches from your face, "too good at this to be forgetting," he shakes his head, the praise a little shocking, and the soft, "too pretty," that follows it hammers the fact.
You breath is caught in your chest again as he leans into your ear, eyes wide and mouth clamped as he murmurs a deep.
"So how do you think I should go bout making sure you remember?"
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lemonlover1110 · 11 hours
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 30] Graduation
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff
*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️
**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”
“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.
“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”
“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.
“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”
“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.
You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.
Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 
The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 
If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.
“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.
“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.
“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.
“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.
You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.
“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”
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“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 
“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 
“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”
“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.
“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”
“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.
“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”
“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 
“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 
“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”
“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.
“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.
“Let’s get going.”
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The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 
Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.
You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.
“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.
“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”
“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”
“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.
You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.
“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.
“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.
“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.
“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.
“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.
“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”
“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 
“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.
“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”
“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.
“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”
“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 
“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.
“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.
“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 
“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.
“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”
“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”
“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,
“Have you seen my mom?”
“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.
Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.
“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”
“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”
“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”
“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.
“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”
“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.
“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”
“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.
“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”
“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.
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“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.
“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”
“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.
“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 
Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.
“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.
“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.
“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.
“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.
You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.
“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”
“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”
“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”
“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”
“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.
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You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.
“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.
You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.
Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 
“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.
“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,
“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.
“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”
“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.
Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.
Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 
You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.
“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.
He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.
You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 
You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 
Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.
“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.
“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.
His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.
“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 
“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 
He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”
You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.
“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.
“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.
“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.
“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 
He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.
“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 
You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.
“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 
He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.
“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”
“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”
“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.
You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 
“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.
“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 
“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”
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yutarot · 12 hours
Text
IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]
twenty-two — i did it for you wc: 0.9k
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there was nothing like the sweet, sweet bliss of fresh air amidst a college party. it was who you found in that fresh air, that made you want to turn around and walk back inside.
a face you haven’t seen for weeks.
the face of the girl who betrayed you.
giselle.
she didn’t see you right away, to engrossed in thought of whatever seemed to be bothering her, hidden behind a tail of cigarette smoke.
it was only after you’d turned your body in preparation to leave that she noticed you, her words stopping you in your tracks.
“you not having fun?” she asks.
you turn back around and she offers you her cigarette, which you politely refuse.
“i am..” you reply, “just needed some air.”
“ah.” she drops the cigarette to the floor, stomping it out with the toe of her heels. “sorry.”
you furrow your brows at her nicety. what’s the point in being nice now, after everything she had done to you?
as if she’s read your mind, she speaks up. “look yn, about Y..”
“you mean jaehyun? you can say his name giselle, i wont start crying.” you snap, and she flinches in shock.
“you know?” she asks, surprised.
but you’re even more surprised at her question. she seems eerily calm about the fact that Y was infact jaehyun. why was she more shocked about the fact that you knew? unless…
“you knew?” you question.
her head hangs in defeat.
she knew the whole time?
“giselle?”
she looks back up at you.
“i knew.” she whispers. “but yn-“
“it’s just one thing after the next with you.” you say, sighing, picking yourself up to go back inside.
but she stops you.
“i did it for you.”
huh..?
“what?”
“sleeping with him. i did it for you.”
you feel the need to bang your head incessantly against a brick wall in attempt to understand what the hell she means.
“oh so you slept with my ex bestfriend behind my back… all for me????” you feign adoration sarcastically, “awww giselle you didn’t have to.”
“yn! i’m serious!”
your smile falters as you notice a change in giselle a demeanour.
she’s telling the truth.
“what do you mean you did it for me?”
“remember when you got that message from Y saying ‘i’m over you.’?” she says.
“yes…”
“that night, i bumped into jaehyun on my way to the bathroom and uh, he looked upset.”
you’re confused.
“upset? what about?”
“you.”
you let her continue. “he was drunk, and so i asked him what was bothering him, not actually caring, just hoping i could yk, find out something interesting. and boy… i did…”
“he told you he was Y, didn’t he.”
“yeah… and look yn, i rlly wanted to go straight to you and tell you. but all i could think about was how you would feel if you found out that the one person in the world you hated the most ended up being Y. i knew that you would feel so embarrassed and hurt and i just really couldn’t stand to let you find out like that, not after everything he did to you and not after everything Y had said to you. i knew you were excited about it, i couldn’t stand to see you be let down.”
your eyes look down to the floor, trying to figure out what she’s trying to say. but she continues.
“so, drunk out of my mind, all i could think about is that he needs to get over you before you find out. i thought i could do something.”
“so you slept with him?”
“so i slept with him.”
wow.
you don’t know how to feel.
you have to admit, giselle’s drunken attempt at being a good friend to you was quite frankly stupid and albeit it insanely dumb, but her intentions shocked you.
“i didn’t think of the repercussions, i didn’t think of how you would feel when you found out about it. but i knew that id rather have you hate me than have your heart broken by the fact that Y was jaehyun. so i let you hate me. i wanted you to hate me, if it made you happy.”
just like how jaehyun did, you think to yourself. she had chosen your own feelings over hers.
“giselle…”
“i don’t expect you to forgive me, what i did was stupid. because you know now anyways.”
you don’t know how to tell giselle that whatever she did, worked. that jaehyun really is now over you, that Y isn’t him anymore. because something makes you reluctant to admit that she ended up being right.
“you really did all that so that jaehyun would get over me before i found out he was Y?”
“yeah, stupid right.”
you laugh, and she laughs too.
she’s right, it was stupid. and to you, her reasoning makes no sense, but to know that she didn’t purposefully betray you makes you feel a little better.
like jaehyun, she let you hate her so that your suspicion wouldn’t falter.
but you really can’t forgive her.
because, unlike jaehyun, she knew it was him she was sleeping with.
you sigh. “it’s too complex.”
she nods. “i’m really sorry.”
you smile, “see you around?”
“see you around.”
but you won’t. not tomorrow, not next year.
not ever.
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mlist — next
notes; sorry to those of u who thought Y 2.0 was giselle 😢😢😢 but i wonder why yn and gigi won’t be friends ever again 🤔🤔🤔🤔 hmmm suspicious 🤔🤔🤔🤔 oh yeah btw tmrs chapter is the big Y 2.0 reveal😁 sleep well!
taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze
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startanewdream · 2 days
Text
I've always wanted to write a scene of mutual agreement and support (friendship is a strong word) between Ginny and Romilda Vane, so here's around 1600 words of something that might have happened during Year 7.
*****
They wait until after dinner to round on her.
Ginny is mildly surprised; she'd guessed they would question her as soon as she got off the train, but perhaps they thought that Snape's speech—not the Headmaster's, she'd never consider him so—might terrify her enough to make her betray everything she has ever believed on. If so, they were very mistaken; seeing Snape in the middle of the staff table, with Death Eaters by his side, only infused her Gryffindor spirit.
"Weasley," calls Alecto Carrow. She has a mind to pretend to ignore her, but the mass of students climbing the stairs seems to freeze with that call, and Ginny has no choice but to answer it, all eyes on her as she walks to Alecto Carrow.
"Yes, Professor." She puts as much spite in that word as she can. Neville and Luna suddenly materialize next to her, and Ginny almost wishes they would stay away, as if there is any protection to be found this year.
Alecto looks her up and down. "That's it?" Her voice is mocking. "That's Potter's girlfriend?"
By her side, Crabble and Goyle nod; their gazes are not as unappreciative as Alecto's. With a shudder, Ginny thinks she will favour disdain any day.
"I thought Potter had better taste."
She buries her nails into her palm. Don't answer, she tells herself, and tries to keep a look of disinterest.
"Where is your boyfriend?"
Her rehearsed answer comes in a bored tone. "I would know if I had any." It feels more than ever that everyone is staring at her.
Alecto doesn't seem convinced, nor do her cronies.
"They were dating," says Goyle, in a whisper that everyone can hear. "Everyone saw it, they were snogging all around the place."
"It's what happens when you are dating someone," snaps Ginny. "We've broken up." She hesitates for a tiny beat. "He dumped me."
This time her rehearsed line doesn't sound credible, despite being the truth. Everyone's gaze seems to burn, evaluating her answer, and, for a moment, Ginny waits for someone to question this, to raise the absurdity of her words: they were in love. As Goyle had noted, anyone could see how they felt about each other; Harry had been beaming the whole time they were together, all those few weeks of sunshine and happiness and hope. Harry wouldn't just dump her—
And then Alecto Carrow laughs.
"I guess Potter already got what he was after, then?" She mocks. "Blood traitors aren't a good value if..."
"Perhaps the girl is lying," another voice pops in, and Ginny turns to see Amycus Carrow joining his sister. His gaze upon her makes Ginny shiver; she remembers all too well duelling him. "Perhaps she knows more than she's letting on—"
"I wouldn't think so," Luna says, her voice as dreaming as ever. "If she knew, she wouldn't be here."
"Harry always kept his secrets," Neville adds, crossing his arms.
Amycus and Alecto share a look before Amycus takes a step forward.
"I will be the judge of that. If we have Potter's precious girlfriend—"
"I am not even his girlfriend anymore!"
It doesn't seem to matter, though. Terror floods her, not so much for herself; there isn't anything that she can share with them, but if somehow Harry finds out that they've got her—their breakup will be for nothing—he is too stupid and too noble to do something reckless—
Amycus grabs her arm; Ginny dives her hand into her pocket, but before she can take out her wand, many things happen. Professor McGonagall appears, Neville points his wand at Amycus, and Romilda Vane laughs nervously.
"Please," she says. "Weasley was his girlfriend, so what?”
That makes everyone draw their eyes to her. Romilda tosses her hair out of her face, seemingly enjoying the attention, but Ginny can see a thin layer of sweat breaking through the girl's careful makeup.
"Harry was always smiling at me, flirting unashamedly, even when he was dating her. I wasn’t the only one either. Everyone knew he wasn't good business. A ladies' man, that one."
Ginny blinks; she is not alone. The year before, when Harry was at the height of his popularity at Hogwarts, everyone's favourite Chosen One, he had drawn many eyes. Ginny had found it bothersome, but she could understand what everyone was seeing: that gorgeous young man with messy dark hair and green eyes, tall and fit, with the added benefit of seeming oblivious to his own charm, almost shy. It had been endearing.
That also was one of the reasons why, when Harry and Ginny started dating, everyone wanted to talk about it. It had been huge news for Hogwarts' standard.
There was no way anyone would believe that Romilda was telling the truth.
"Potter never had any other girlfriend," Crabbe mumbles.
Romilda laughs derisively. "I wasn't his girlfriend, haven't you heard what I just said? He just liked to flirt." She nudges her friend. "Do you remember, Lisa? I told you Harry never took his eyes off me."
Lisa looks terrified, but she nods. "Yes," she confirms in a small voice. "And you—you shared chocolate once."
"Harry dated Cho," someone from the Ravenclaw crowd says, and there's a murmur of agreement.
"I went with Harry to a Christmas party last year," notes Luna. She skips the part where they went as friends.
"I think I saw him snogging a girl behind the greenhouses," Hannah Abbott says.
At her side, a boy nods. "I saw something in the library once."
People start adding comments, their voices mingling in a cacophony. The weirdest part is that Ginny knows no one is lying; people are telling about the times they saw Harry with a girl — only she was this girl, this only girl, but no one specifies that.
"Quiet, quiet!" Alecto sounds annoyed. She looks at Crabbe and Goyle. "Is this true?"
They shrug, lost.
"I saw Potter with Chang at Madam Puddifoot's," Pansy Parkinson confirms, distasteful. "And he went with Loony Lovegood to Slughorn's party."
"That would be Professor Slughorn, Miss Parkinson," chides Professor McGonagall, taking a definite step ahead and placing herself between the Carrows and Ginny. She raises her arm and, almost without a second glance, lowers Neville's still extended arm. "I do not see why a student's romantic life is under scrutiny at this hour of the night, especially a student who is not even here at the moment, but the others have class tomorrow morning."
"This is more important than classes," Amycus spats.
"I remind you this is still a school," Professor McGonagall says coldly.
Amycus' answer is cut by a bored voice. "What is this?" Snape walks, easily opening his way between the students gathered at the door.
"We are trying to interrogate the Weasley girl," Alecto says. "To find out the whereabouts of Potter. She was his girlfriend."
Snape rolls his eyes. "You heard the others. Potter was a lover-boy; that is not surprising considering how his father behaved with his fans." He regards Ginny coldly. "Weasley is not special. I doubted Potter ever shared anything more than a snog with her."
There's an underlying truth in his words that stung her, but before she can react, Snape is already addressing Professor McGonagall.
"Take your students to bed, Minerva. It would not be advisable to be out of the bed at this hour."
Professor McGonagall, who had been frowning at Snape as if trying to figure out something, bristles; there's nothing but repulse in her eyes as she nods.
"Of course, Severus." She turns to Ginny and the others. "Go to the Common Room, now."
And she casts a warning glance at Ginny, who runs to meddle between the other Gryffindor students climbing up the stairs. Her heart doesn't stop beating painfully until she enters the Common Room, and only then she looks back; the Carrows aren't in sight. She doubts this is the last time they will try to question her, but for now, she can breathe easily and give Neville a feeble smile when he looks at her.
"We will watch your back," he whispers.
"It will be fine," she says, with a confidence she doesn't feel. Nothing about her experience at Hogwarts so far gives her any faith that things will turn out well.
And then she catches a mop of black hair.
"Romilda," she calls. Romilda pauses on her way to the stairs.
"Yeah?"
Ginny waits until they are alone to whisper: "Thank you."
Romilda nods. There’s a moment of silence, during which Romilda eyes the stairs as if considering fleeing the scene before she asks: "Did he really break up with you?"
Ginny gulps. "Yeah."
"Oh, I thought—"
"No, it was true."
She waits for some remark; Romilda was truly determined to get Harry the year before, and she had pestered Ginny when she was dating Harry.
"He never actually flirted with me," Romilda says in a rushed whisper. "And you were special to him, I—I spent a lot of time watching him and trying to get his attention, but he never glanced at me... because he was too busy ogling at you."
Warmth spreads inside Ginny; she cannot help her smile. "Harry didn't ogle."
"Yes, all the time. He had it hard for you. Still has, I'd bet." Romilda smiles awkwardly. "Not very womanizer of him."
Ginny's eyes wide. "About that—if anyone finds out that you were exaggerating—"
"I'll talk to my friends. No one is going to say anything."
"I know. I trust you." They look at each other; it suddenly occurs to Ginny that Romilda has no idea, not really, of what could happen if anyone suspects her lie. Romilda never faced a Death Eater. Ginny hopes she never does. "It will be fine."
It's the same thing she told Neville before, but now there's a promise in her voice.
Romilda nods one last time. "Night, Ginny."
"Night, Romilda."
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Text
Mad Season 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker
Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)
Note: happy weekend.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The scalloped collar of your cardigan sticks out like a sore thumb among the tube tops and spaghetti straps. You don’t know how anyone can stand to wear skirts that short with winter looming around the next corner. Even as the dorm is filled with the heat of bodies, an open window lets in a frigid gust that has you shivering. 
It might help if you detach yourself from the wall. That would mean wading into the bodies and god forbid, talking to strangers. You cross your arms and sway as you search the crowded kitchen. There’s more in the front room and the bedrooms. The place is filled to the brim with tipsy co-eds. 
You stand on your toes as you try to spot your host. You haven’t seen Peter since you got there. He disappeared to help with a spill and just never came back. You figured that’s how it would go. You’re boring and it is his party. He can’t just be hanging out with you all night. 
As the voices grow to a furor and your head begins to spin with the wall of bodies, your chest tightens. You sidle along the wall, ducking and dodging away from drunken guests, and find your way to the door. You let yourself into the hall as you shake up your puffer. 
You take a deep inhale and let it out slow. It’s already better. The music and buzz of chatter courses through the wall but it isn’t deafening. You’ll stay out there for a while then find Peter and tell him you’re too tired. 
You pull out your phone to distract yourself. You could try texting. No, he deserves a real goodbye. He invited your after all. 
The door opens again and a couple bursts out, leaving it open in their stead as they hit the wall not a foot away from you. They don’t notice you as they tangle each other up in a sloppy make out sessions. You make a face at them and quickly flit away. You have no other choice but to go back to the party. 
As you weave around the other guests, your mind detaches and wanders back to that dark night on campus. You didn’t really believe Bucky at first but then again, how well do you know Peter? It’s completely likely that he’s brought other girls around. But would it matter? 
Like you told Bucky, you’re just doing a project. 
You hit the wall suddenly as someone collides with you from the side. You let out and oomf and grip your phone tighter. You turn as a splash of cold liquid leaks down your sleeve. The drunken girl doesn’t even apologise as she laughs and follows her friend down to the kitchen. 
You shrink down even further. It’s overcrowded and too loud and too much. Not only that but you plainly don’t belong here. You live in an off-campus property with a shady landlord and questionable roommates; this place is a premium all-inclusive dorm. The type legacies and trust funders live in. 
You manage to squeeze past a group of boys in varsity jackets arguing loudly. You dip into Peter’s room and take a breath. It’s not as bad as the rest of the house but there’s some girls on the bed giggling and talking about things that make you want to blush. 
You search around. Not necessarily for an escape, you’re not desperate enough to hop out the window, but just for anywhere to hide and catch your breath. Literally. You switch your phone for your puffer and put it to your lips. 
You cross to the bathroom and knock. You turn your ear to it and listen for an answer. Nothing. You turn the handle and push inside. 
You stop short. Inside, Peter’s against the wall of the shower, pinned by MJ as she nibbles on his lower lip. You gasp in surprise and gape. Oh gosh. 
You stand dumbly in the door. Move, you idiot. Before you can flee, Peter’s eyes open and he sees you. He winces and grabs MJ’s shoulders, moving her away from him. 
“Hey,” he tries to move past her but she tugs him back. 
You back out, cheeks burning, and spin away without closing the door. It’s not like it’s any of your business, you shouldn’t care, but it’s awkward. You shouldn’t have seen that.  
It’s just like you suspected. You’re crashing Peter’s party. He didn’t actually want to invite you, he was just being nice. Like always. He’s always so nice and patient and you’re so pathetic. 
Maybe Bucky is right. Maybe you’re just another girl. Well, so what? You’re just friends. Just lab partners. You don’t care, do you? 
You barely avoid the elbow of one of the frats slurping on a red cup and another group of girls blindly force their way by without making room. You press against the wall as you try to get free of the bustling space.  
God, why did you even come? You knew this was a bad idea. This is the last time you do anything just to be polite. What good has that ever got you? 
You finally get to the door and stumble out into the hall. You catch yourself against the wall and look over at the couple still grossly sucking down each other’s tongues. You grimace and shake your puffer. You suck on it as you head down the hallway. 
“Hey, wait,” Peter calls your name as the door once more lets out the cacophony of voice, “look, what you saw--” 
“It’s fine, Peter,” you rasp, “really. Parties aren’t really my thing.” 
“No, it’s not fine. I don’t want you to think I just ditched you. It’s just MJ, she was all over me. Really, I was trying to get away--” 
“Peter,” you gulp, “we’re just friends,” you turn to face him and he nearly trips as he skids to a halt. “I don’t care.” 
You smile, or try to. You might be lying. You’re not really sure yourself. 
“You... don’t?” He frowns. 
You stare at him. “Well, should I?” You laugh nervously. 
He deflates and his brows furrow, “I mean... I do. I really care about you and... I was telling MJ and she just jumped on me. She has this thing for taken guys. Kinda why we didn’t work out. But uh, I guess I messed it all up. I invited you because I... well, yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” His shoulders slump and his eyes glisten, “so, just go. I messed it all up. Not like you could ever like me back, right?” 
You stare at him. You open your mouth then shut it. Like him? Like really like him? If that’s what he means... do you? 
💜💜💜
From this point, there will be two paths; both Bucky and Peter will appear in both but each will favour one or the other as end goal. 
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ilovescarymen · 3 days
Text
talk to me: Spencer Reid
You’d never been one for vulnerability. It probably had something to do with how you grew up, an emotionally unavailable mother and a mentally absent father- you were always berated when you cried or showed you were upset so as you got older , you stopped.
You had a boyfriend who made you think you could be soft and vulnerable infront of him but, he ended up using it against you in an argument, after that you swore to never be vulnerable again.
You became a blank canvas that was impossible to read, a smile always plastered on your face, a fake bubbly personality to cover the pain beneath the surface. You’d only cry in the comfort of a bathroom or your home and then smile around others. It always worked. No one ever questioned it, untill now.
Your boyfriend, Spencer Reid is a profiler for the fbi’s behavioral analysis unit. He study’s human behavior for a living, which means he sees right through your little facade.
He never addressed it because he thought that maybe vulnerability would come with time. Maybe you’d stop crying in the bathroom or the shower and instead cry in his arms.
But when he arrives home from a case and you’re not at the door , bouncing around and ecstatic to see him he knows something’s up, he peeks around the corner to your bedroom and sees his sweet girl, crying and hiccuping.
You notice him and quickly wipe your tears , perking up, your stand up off the bed and run to your boyfriend’s arms.
“Hi Spence! Sorry I’m running a bit late on dinner! I’ll go get it started!” You quickly spew out, as you make an attempt to walk away your pulled back by your boyfriend, he gently places his hands on the side of your face and scans your face, before making eye contact with you.
“Honey, slow down, what’s wrong?” He asks genuine concern in his voice
“Nothing! Why would something be wrong Spence?” You put a smile on your face and look up at your boyfriend, his eyebrows are furrowed together and a frown is all over his face.
“Sweetheart, you do know that I study human behavior every day right? I know you’re lying to me, please just talk to me baby. I love you and I care and I want you to feel better”
You shake your head “nothings wrong I’m okay” you release yourself from his grasp and slip past him to the kitchen, you open the fridge and scan it “I have pasta sauce! I can make you-“ you let out a squeak as Spencer picks you up and carries you over to the couch, he sits you in his lap facing him and holds you in place.
“I have let you do this long enough. I let you isolate yourself and pretend you’re okay when you’re not but no more. I want you to come to me, I want to cheer you up honey, I will never judge you, you know that right? I’ll never make you feel stupid for feeling your feelings. I love you I want you to talk to me”
Your lip starts to tremble and tears start falling down your face “she’s- she’s so mean Spence” you hiccup, he pulls you to his chest and hugs you, his arms wrapping around your waist
“Who is? Honey who’s mean?”
“My mother” you sob out, Spencer doesn’t know the horrors of your childhood. All he knows is you grew up in Texas and you left because you wanted a change in scenery, what he doesn’t know is that you actually left for your own safety. Your mother had lost it and you left to avoid another one of her beatings.
“Oh honey” he coos, he kisses the side of your head and rubs your back gently, whispering little “it’s okay”’s and “let it all out”’s in your ear. When your crying calmed down you sat up, looking Spencer in his eyes.
“M’ sorry, I know you got home from a case and this is probably the last thing you wanted to deal with” you breath out as you wipe your eyes
“Hey hey, Nuh uh. Don’t ever apologize for feeling your feelings, I’m more than happy to do this. To be here for you always. I love you, sweetheart “
“I love you too Spence “
“Now, tell me why we hate your mother”
And you did, you told him everything, and when tears fell Spence gently caressed your back and listened intently, showing you that it was okay.
This is what love is.
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clrasecretdiary · 8 hours
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Why does she give a damn about me? | Spencer Reid x Reader
cutesy, cheesy fluff
In wich Spencer thinks reader is out of his league but she could not be more into him.
Content: Garcia is a queen as always, sunshine!reader
Warnings: Maybe some light lack of self steem from spence, but nothing crazy!!
He was used to it at this point. Being the weird kid in high school and college, Spencer never really expected anyone to be into him and, after being rejected a couple of times, he had practically closed himself off in that sense. But then, you came into the picture.
You are one of those girls that everyone seemed to gravitate toward, not only because of your beauty but because of your essence. You were genuinely kind, smart and good with people in a way he wished he was, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you, you had all the qualities he wished he had and being close to you made him feel complete.
Needless to say that he was in love with you, it had started as an admiration and when he realized he was thinking about you all the time, but he was sure you would never be into guys like him, he was sure you’d never see him as more than friends.
You had joined the team a few years ago, you were excited to finally be doing what you really wanted when you joined the BAU, going out in the field and being on cases instead of just working a desk job all the time. When you first met the team, everyone seemed very welcoming but you felt yourself especially drawn to Spencer out of all people, at first he seemed distant but with time you noticed how sweet he was and how much he cared for everyone around him and god that man was so funny, you loved his weird science jokes and his magic tricks. How were you supposed to not fall in love with him? You asked yourself that question every time he brought you coffee in the morning or went on his rambles about some random thing.
After a particularly intense inquiry from a very drunk Garcia in one of the girls' nights she organized at her home, you told her your feelings for Reid and she made you swear you would act on it.
“Garcia, I'm not confessing. He's not into me like that, i’ll just ruin our friendship”
“Oh honey, he practically kisses the floor you walk in, he follows you around the office like a lost puppy and practically kills any officer that dares to be the tiniest bit mean to you. There’s no way he’s not into you, at least try pretty please” She says, doing puppy eyes at you. Garcia took her job as a cupid very seriously and was not going to let this be her first fail.
“Alright, i’ll try but if he ends up hating me you’ll have to bake me cookies everyday until i die” You say rolling your eyes and finishing your glass of wine.
“Ohhh i’ll be cooking cookies for you guys wedding!”
So, here you are holding his favorite order from the local coffee shop and gathering the courage to press the button to the elevator
“Hey are you fine?” A familiar voice calls you, when you turn around its spencer.. Great, guess you’ll have to do this right now
“Oh hi yeah, I was just um… meditating”
“Did you know meditanting has been proven to increase your memory and is also great for reducing anxiety. I really should start doing it, what method do you use?” Spencer says while pressing the button to the elevator
“Ummm breath in, breath out i think” You say, unsure how to respond
“That's actually one of the best ways as it oxygenates your brain and helps it work better, it can also help you feel more calm since deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system that sends a signal to your brain to tell the anxious part that you're safe and don't need to use the fight, flight response” He says, doing the little smile and head nod thing he always does after info dumping.
You smile back at him, as you both enter the elevator and press the button to the BAU floor.
“I brought you something” You say, handing him the coffee shop bag
He opens it and smiles at you “I can’t believe you remembered my favorites, thank you so much” You love that smile so much, all you can think about is how perfect he is and how there’s no way you can continue on without dating this man.
“Actually, I need to tell you something spence… I was thinking, maybe we could go out together as like, a date or something” You say, already blushing from the embarrassment you felt and how scared you were that he did not reciprocate the feelings.
“Really? Of course i want, to be honest i’ve wanted to ask you to be honest but i thought you’d never see me like that”
“Are you kidding me spencer? I’ve had a crush on you since we first meet”
The elevator gets to the office, and you both walk in blushing and joking about how you two were so blind to each other's feelings. As you get in, garcia passes by you two stopping to stare
“There’s something happening here…” She says, pointing between you two and pressing her eyes together as if she’s profiling you two
“I asked him out”
“Oh my god finally, you see? I’m always right, I don’t even need to ask what he said, look at Reid, he’s glowing, ohh i’m so happy” She says, walking out to probably tell the news to everyone on the team.
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a-writing-otter · 18 hours
Text
WIP Wednesday
“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”
Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.
“You can’t believe I what?”
“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”
“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.
“Neither of those things are right!”
Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.
“That’s not what I heard.”
Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.
“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.
“You don’t look it.”
“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.
When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.
…to earth.
Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).
He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.
Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.
She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.
If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.
So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.
At least, until one particular person started staring.
“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”
Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.
“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”
Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.
“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”
Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.
“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”
Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.
…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.
Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.
Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.
They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.
…and then there’s Ford.
They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.
It’s fine.
It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.
Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.
And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.
Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.
Ford bit back.
And Bill argued against.
It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.
It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.
He shouldn’t have done that.
The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.
It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.
After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.
He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—
That’s how Ford found him.
There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.
Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.
They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—
Then they were decidedly not fighting.
“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.
“And who’s telling you this?!”
“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”
Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.
“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”
“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”
Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.
“So did I.”
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liahaslosthermind · 9 hours
Text
~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~
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(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal
Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort
His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.
He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.
"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.
It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.
Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.
It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.
A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.
Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.
"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."
"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.
"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.
The spymaster didn't answer.
"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"
He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.
His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.
Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.
How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.
"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.
"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.
Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.
The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.
"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."
In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.
These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.
Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.
Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.
He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.
Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.
After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.
He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.
He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.
He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.
Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.
The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.
The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.
Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.
It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.
But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.
6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.
This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.
Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.
Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.
On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.
Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?
Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.
The Walking Dead
A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?
The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.
It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.
The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.
A spell.
He almost dropped the book at the realization.
No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.
He knew what he needed to do.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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Hello ! Just so Agatha all along and I have a request if it's ok 😊
How Agatha will convince witch!reader who has a crush on her to join her in the witch road 👉👈
Gn reader if possible
Thank you ! 😁
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Agatha would probably be aware of your feelings in all honesty, and she couldn’t blame you! She’s amazing!
However she’s probably use this infatuation with her to her advantage when her and ‘teen’ come over to your home, following the trail of magic that drew them there. It was noticeable, stronger the other witches she’s recruited but still there was room for growth and new powers.
‘What tricks are we going to have to use to recruit this witch/wiccan?’ Teen asked Agatha as they stood on your doorstep.
‘No tricks, this one’s got a little thing for me, it’s adorable but it means that most of the work in convincing them has been cut out for us.’ Agatha replied as she went to knock on the door, only for it to open on its own to reveal you on the other side.
‘How did?’ Teen questioned.
‘I could sense you the moment you drove into the driveway, your magic is far more potent than others.’ You answered as you stepped to one side with a welcoming smile. ‘Want to step inside and continue this conversation because I don’t think the neighbours will want to hear about the sales pitch you’re bound to give me into joining your cult.’ You add.
‘It’s not a cult it’s a coven.’ Teen interrupts but you weren’t listening when Agatha moved past you, making sure to brush her hand against the back of yours as she does, and immediately you felt your resolve to stand your ground crumble like a deck of cards. It must’ve been obvious as teen only looked at you knowingly as he past into your house and once they were both inside, you shut the door harder then you should’ve but at this point you wanted this to be over with.
‘Go on then, convince me to join you on your journey to the witches’ road.’ You crossed your arms over your chest.
‘I’m assuming you’re more than aware of the fact that if you were to make it to the end of the road, any wish your heart desires can be granted.’ Agatha started.
‘I do know this factoid, yes.’ You said and Agatha crept closer to you until you were a hair’s width away from one another as she now spoke lowly. ‘Then I’m also lead to assume that you know that extends to crushes, infatuations, all that important stuff also.’
‘Yes but I’d much rather the feeling to be mutual without the usage of magic, as ironic as that sounds.’ You replied as you stared deeply into her beautiful eyes.
‘And it can be,’ Agatha whispered as she grasped your hands with her own, intertwining your fingers, ‘I really need you by my side y/n as my moral support, my confidant and my strength during the most difficult situations that we’ll face.’ Agatha could see that you were buying her sales pitch into getting you on the witches road, but knew she couldn’t stop there and decided to make this visit short and sweet she adds.
‘I wouldn’t want anyone else to join me on the witches’ road other then you my dear, you have the potential to be the most powerful witch/wiccan in our coven. All those other witches can barely hold a candle to your fire. I need you.’ She finishes and teen had to give it to Agatha, she was certainly an actress when she needed to be as he watched you both as though he was watching his favourite drama.
You were at war with yourself. You swore that you wouldn’t resort to magic for even the most simplest things, never less the witches’s road, you knew the stories of how dangerous it was but your infatuation with Agatha tended to lead you into doing something stupid; even agreeing to going on the Witches’ road with nothing but the hope that Agatha might actually see you for once.
However before you could reason with yourself, your mouth moved faster then your brain could intervene with logic and common sense. ‘Fine, I’ll join.’
‘Yes!’ Agatha and teen cried as Agatha brought you into her arms, holding you tight so that you didn’t see the smirk across her face, that wasn’t so hard if anything it was barely even took her five minutes to get you to say yes; she didn’t understand why she didn’t come to you first just to get it over and done with, every other witch before you was a tougher nut to crack then the last. You were merely the reward for a hard days work.
‘You won’t regret this darling, that I promise you along with power, love and so much more.’ Agatha tells you as she rubs your back.
You poor, idiotic fool, let’s pray you do survive the road and not die with a broken heart when you realise the truth…
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Text
Pessimism and Pancakes
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Summary: When you wake up feeling off, your girlfriend knows exactly what you need—and she won’t give up easily. Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 1,046 Warnings/Themes: Angst to fluff :)
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Your alarm blares the same obnoxious sound that drills into your head every morning. Quickly reaching to stop the noise, you tuck yourself back under the heavy pile of blankets in a tired haze. With an exasperated sigh, you turn your head to glance at the time. 7:00 am, the same time you wake up every single day.
But this morning is different, like a thick fog has settled over your body, trapping you from doing anything. You’re supposed to train with Wanda like you do every morning, but something in you makes you slowly close your eyes instead. Maybe a few more hours of sleep would cure this hazy feeling.
It feels like barely any time has passed when there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Whoever’s there pauses before walking in, the door closing behind them. You’re too far under the covers to see who it is, let alone care who’s there.
“Are you awake?” A Sokovian accent fills your ears, immediately alerting you to the woman standing next to your bed. None other than Wanda, here to see why you weren’t in the training room. You only groan in response, still half asleep. “Why are you still in bed?” She asks.
A part of you prepares for her to be mad, but the other half still couldn’t care less. Now blinking away the remaining sleepiness, you can’t help but feel fatigued in your awakened state. You simply ignore her, hoping she’ll just go away if you don’t move a muscle. But the bed dips, and you can tell she’s sitting right beside you.
“Are you alright?” Wanda asks, reaching for the top of the blankets. She attempts to pull them down, but finds you tightly holding them above your head. Not only was missing training unlike you, but hiding like this was even more out of character.
“I’m fine.” You voice, the sound muffled. Wanda doesn’t buy it though, trying to pry the blankets down once more. The frustration in you grows, wanting nothing more than to be left alone right now. You feel off kilter—even while laying down, like your mind is unwilling to think without every single thought falling into a hopeless dark depth.
“I said I’m fine Wanda!” You snap, your head popping above the sheets as you pull them tightly to your chest, snatching them from her arms. She raises her eyebrows in surprise, slightly caught off guard by your behavior. You’re never this short with anyone.
“What’s going on? First you miss training, and now this?” She questions, her expression filling with concern. At first she was assuming you missed your alarm, or maybe wanted to sleep in after a long day yesterday, but your actions now prove otherwise.
“Sorry that I don’t want to do the same thing every day. Next time I want to live in a time loop I’ll call Strange.” You jab, huffing as you turn your back to Wanda completely. She pauses for a moment, exhaling as she thinks. You can tell she’s playing with her rings, she always does when she breathes like that.
Maybe a part of you feels bad about how you’re acting, but you don’t have enough energy to care right now. After a minute of sitting in silence, you feel Wanda stand. It isn’t until the bedroom door clicks shut that you know she’s gone.
You inhale deeply, hoping a regulating breath of air will calm this growing pit in your stomach. It doesn’t. It’s not like you have a high-stakes mission coming up, or even a stressful meeting. The feeling just sits inside you and nothing seems to shake it.
The ever-growing pessimistic thoughts pause as you hear the door swing open once more, this time without a knock beforehand. “Alright, I’ve got pancakes with all your favorite toppings. Time to sit up!” Wanda exclaims, placing something on the nightstand before yanking the pillows out from under you.
You groan, but ultimately listen as you know she won’t relent. Wanda sets up the pillows behind you as you lean against the headboard. She presents a tray full of fluffy pancakes, embellished with everything you usually put on them. “Wanda-“ You start, only to get interrupted.
“Nope, don’t talk to me until you’ve eaten. I know how you get when you don’t eat.” She smiles, sitting back down on the side of the bed. You shake your head, attempting to hide the smile on your face as you begin to eat.
“I’m sorry.” You voice through mouthfuls of her delicious home-made recipe. The guilt inside you grows after your bout of frustration directed at Wanda, and here she is making you food in return. She chuckles, shaking her head.
“You don’t need to be sorry, it’s okay to have an off day.” Wanda replies with a shrug. An off day, the kind of thing normal people have after a long week of work or a chaotic night prior. You’re anything from normal, living here in the Avengers Compound. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a rest day every now and again.
There’s been a handful of days when you’ve had to drag yourself out of bed, yet still you carry on with your day like usual. Something about today is different, though. Even though you feel compelled to leave your bed and get on with things, something inside you just physically… can’t.
“What are you thinking about?” The abnormal amount of time you’re stuck staring at your plate leaves Wanda curious. You snap back to reality, putting your fork down.
“I don’t know, I haven’t felt like this before. I just feel really… shitty.” You shrug, looking at Wanda like she has all the answers.
“That’s alright, we don’t have to train today. We don’t have to do anything today, if you don’t want to. All I ask is that you communicate to me where you’re at, so I know how to help you.” She offers with a warm expression. Now it’s your turn to smile at her, nodding as you continue eating your delicious breakfast.
“Thank you,” You add while finishing your last few bites of fluffy pancake. “Could we watch those sitcoms you like?
Wanda grins, “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
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