#you go and do the same thing that hurt us all over again

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄 ! (𝒞𝐻𝒪𝒮𝒪 𝒦𝒜𝑀𝒪)

tutor! choso kamo x bimbo! f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ school au ﾉ nerd x bimbo trope ﾉ size kink ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ reader has a big chest ﾉ riding ﾉ handjob ﾉ creampie ﾉ msub + fdom ﾉ not proofread ! ໒꒰ྀི ˶ .  ̯ . ꒱ྀི১

've been trying 2 get a fic out for da past few days but its been s' difficult 4 nu reason at all ? ! liek i had a satoru fic . . didnt go da way i wanted it 2 go . same thing with a toji fic 'n a few others . . not entirely happi with this 1 either but it is wat is isss . . art credits go to @/yume041624 on twt ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Paper flipped continuously, the rustling sound filling his bedroom, the scratching of pencil on paper accompanying it, the lead scribbling onto the sheet. You sat at the desk, leaning forward, your breasts almost spilling from the tiny outfit, a distinct lack of fabric covering the soft mounds, your cleavage on full display. Choso sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the pencil in his other hand tapping on the notebook. You shifted, leaning back, the chair squeaking, the wood creaking under your weight. Boredom was gnawing at you, the minutes dragging on, the silence stifling. You hated studying, the words making your head hurt, the letters and numbers dancing across the pages, blurring together. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, the soft flesh pressing together, spilling over the sides. Choso's grip on his pencil tightened, his fingers turning white. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his Adam's apple bobbing, sweat beading on his forehead. "Um.. So, question 34, right?" He mumbled, his voice quiet, shaky. You nodded, the movement slow, exaggerated. Your lips turned downwards, your face twisting into a pout. "Mhm, yeah, but 'm boorredd.." You whined, a hint of a whinge in your voice. You shifted again, leaning back, resting your weight on your palms. Choso's gaze was locked on the curve of your back, watching as you arched, your body curving, the fabric stretching, threatening to tear.

"U-um..right.." He muttered, turning his attention back to the notebook. "A-ah, so, um.." He tapped the pencil against the page, his brow furrowed. "So, if we, uh, use this formula, then it would..h-hah.." He trailed off, the sound of his zipper being pulled down reaching his ears, the leather chair squeaking, the wood groaning. You slid onto his lap, a soft rustle sounding when your body perfectly planted itself on him. His jaw dropped, his eyes widening, the pencil falling from his hand, the plastic clattering on the hardwood. Your hands snaked their way around his neck, your nails raking through his hair. "I think we both need a break, don't you?" You murmured, your fingertips digging into his scalp, the slight pain causing him to moan. "We've been at it for an hour, 'nd I've had enough.." A devious glint sparkled in your eyes, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Choso swallowed hard, the sound of his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. Your hips ground down, a soft sigh spilling from you. You could feel the thick length of his cock, the shaft rigid, pulsing against your clothed pussy. "Can't we just take a break?" You asked, feigning innocence, blinking up at him, your eyelashes fluttering. He opened his mouth, his lips parting, the words catching in his throat, a breathy groan escaping him instead. Your hands slid down his neck, his chest, fingers tracing the outline of his pecs. "You don't want me to be all stressed, do you..?"

He shook his head, his mouth agape, his eyes trained on your breasts, watching as the soft mounds bounced with every movement, the skin peeking through the lace. "N-no..no.. Of course not.." He breathed, his Adam's apple bobbing, his lips going dry. You tilted your head, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth, a soft giggle slipping past your glossy lips. "Exactly, 'n what's the best way to relieve stress, hm?" You mused, your voice dripping with honey, the words sticking to him, the saccharine tone making his heart skip a beat. Your hips rolled, the motion smooth, calculated, the pressure on his cock just enough to cause his mind to short circuit. "Uh-h-huh..s-stress relieving.." He murmured, the words a bit slurred, the pleasure from the friction distracting him, making him feel like his brain was melting. "Uhm..I, ah, a-am sure there's other ways, a-ah, I-I mean-" Your hand grabbed his face, fingers digging into his cheeks, nails scraping the skin, forcing him to look at you. "Just oneeee quickie, 'nd I'll study, 'kay? No more distractions.." You cooed, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. "Promise.." You swore, the cutesy doey look in your eyes making him melt, his stomach churning, arousal pooling in the pit of his belly.

The prospect of being inside of you, of feeling your soft, plush cunt squeezing his cock, of burying his face between your tits, was too much to resist, his dick throbbing, begging for attention. He gulped, nodding, his expression eager. "Y-yeah, yeah, o-okay.." He stammered, a blush creeping onto his face, a pink hue staining his pale skin. Your smirk widened, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, drawing his gaze to them. He let out a strangled groan, the muscles in his abdomen clenching. You reached down, sliding the hem of his boxers down, freeing his cock, the length slapping against his belly, precum leaking from the slit. "Oh my, Choso, look at you..how'd you manage to hide this thing?" You teased, the pad of your finger pressing against the head, smearing the pearly fluid. "Not.. many girls want me.." He mumbled, his face burning, humiliation washing over him. You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes. "Their loss.." You whispered, your hand wrapping around his shaft, your fingertips barely touching. He hissed, his teeth gritting, a groan slipping out when your grip tightened. "So big.." You purred, your hand stroking him, the action slow and agonizing. He moaned, his body twitching, his hips bucking into your touch, trying to gain more friction.

Your palm was soft and warm, the contrasting sensations from the delicate texture and the slight squeeze making him shudder. He let out a gasp when your thumb rubbed over his slit, more precum oozing out, the liquid spilling down his shaft, creating a thin sheen on his skin. Your hand jerked him off, the pace steady, the pressure building, a tingling sensation spreading through his abdomen, making his toes curl. You pulled away, the absence of your touch making him whimper, a disappointed sound escaping him. Your hands moved to the hem of your shirt, gripping the fabric, tugging the thin cotton off. The garment was tossed to the floor, the action careless, a sign of your impatience. Choso's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening. Your breasts were even bigger than he had imagined, the perfect shape, the roundness complimenting your body, the mounds looking like two giant marshmallows. "F-fuck.." He breathed, the curse slipping out, his cock twitching. Your eyes were fixed on his, your gaze never leaving his face, a satisfied smirk on your lips. You reached behind you, unclasping your bra, the lace falling off, the fabric sliding down your arms, joining the shirt. "Wanna watch 'em bounce, Cho?" You asked, a giggle leaving you.

He nodded, the action eager, a bit too excited, a bit too quick. You giggled again, his reaction making you feel proud, his excitement and arousal boosting your ego. You reached between your legs, pulling the sticky fabric aside, the soaked cloth clinging to your pussy lips, revealing your hole. Your fingers wrapped around his shaft, the tip of his cock brushing against your pussy, the feeling making you sigh. You shifted, lifting your hips, hovering over him. "Ready, big boy?" You teased, a soft gasp leaving you when the head of his dick slipped into you. You lowered yourself, a strained groan escaping you, your brows knitting, the stretch of his length making your walls strain. "Hah, holy shit.." You breathed, his cock buried deep within you, the girth causing your pussy to throb. Choso let out a low moan, the velvety warmth surrounding his shaft, the tight squeeze making his brain turn to mush. Your thighs shook, the muscles quivering, the discomfort and pleasure mingling, making your vision go blurry. You raised your hips, lifting yourself up, a high pitched whine slipping past your lips, then your ass landed on his lap with a smack, his cock slamming into you, the tip hitting your cervix. A choked sob escaped you, a spark of pain shooting up your spine. Your nails dug into his shoulders, his shirt bunching up in your fists, your knuckles turning white.

"S-shit.." You gasped, the feeling of his cock filling you up making you light headed, your stomach tightening. "F-fuck, y-you're s-so..h-holy sh-it, Cho.." Your words came out as a slur, the syllables and letters tangling together, a bit garbled. He groaned, his head lolling back, his eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't believe this was happening, his wildest dreams finally coming true, his fantasies about you finally becoming a reality. You were just as sexy and soft as he had imagined, every single one of his desires and thoughts materializing. His eyes shot open, a loud yelp leaving him, your hips jerking upwards, then slamming back down, the tip of his cock pounding your cervix. "Hah, fuck, Cho.." You moaned, his hands grabbing your waist, his nails digging into the supple flesh. "Y-yeah, fuck, feels good, huh, babyboy?" You rasped, the corners of your lips turning up, a breathy laugh slipping out. Choso moaned, the sound coming out as a strangled whimper, the feeling of his cock buried deep in your cunt making him go dumb. Your pace was agonizing, the constant stimulation driving him insane, the lack of a break, the relentless grinding and bouncing, was enough to make his mind go blank.

"C'mon, big boy, fuck me.." You whispered, the words coming out as a purr. Choso's grip on your waist tightened, his fingers flexing, his arms trembling. He leaned forward, his face buried in your chest, the softness of your breasts cushioning him, his lips closing around a nipple as he thrusted upwards. He sucked on the stiff bud, his teeth grazing the skin, his tongue lapping at the nub, flicking it. A squeal left you, the sudden burst of pleasure making your hips stutter, the movement jerky. "Ah-ah-hhh, oh god ! Cho, yes, m-mh- mhm, fuck, that's it, baby, suck.. suck m' tits.." You whimpered, his cock rubbing against the most sensitive parts of you, his shaft dragging against your velvety walls. Choso groaned, his hips snapping, his pace fast and hard, his thrusts brutal. You could tell this was the first time he had done something like this, his actions a bit clumsy, his rhythm messy. His movements were rough, a bit sloppy, but that made it better, his enthusiasm and inexperience turning you on even more. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your other hand cupping the back of his neck, your nails raking against his scalp. His lips released the stiff bud with a pop, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple. "Fuck, fuck, you're s-so ti-ha- tight!" He cried, the praise making your pussy flutter, the muscles clenching, squeezing his member. A breathless moan escaped him as he spoke, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His cock twitched, a familiar tension building up in his abdomen, his balls tightening, a pressure building up.

His jaw was slack, his lips parted, drool dripping down his chin, his pace becoming more frantic, his hips bucking, his movements sporadic. The utter debauchery of it all was almost too much to handle, the sounds spilling from him, the lewd noises that filled the room, the soft squelch of his cock plunging into you, the wet slap of skin on skin, the obscene slurping sound as he sucked on your breasts, the salacious display. Your moans mixed with his, the noises mingling, the volume growing, your pitch rising. "Ch-choooo..h-ah- ah-ah, f-fuck, 'm close, Cho, I'm so cl-ohh-o-se.." You whined, the pleasure reaching a boiling point, your orgasm imminent, the coil in your stomach tightening. His lips latched onto your nipple again, the feeling making you cry out, a loud whimper spilling past your lips. Your eyes rolled back, a high pitched wail leaving you, the sound ripping out of you, the tension in your belly snapping. A strangled scream escaped him, the tight squeeze of your cunt triggering his orgasm, the warmth of your cum and the softness of your walls milking his shaft.

Your lips immediately smashed against his as the two of you came, his seed spurting out, painting your insides, a sticky mess. The kiss was sloppy, his teeth scraping against your lips, your tongues twining together. A muffled groan escaped him, his cock pulsing, his cum oozing out, leaking out of your pussy, staining the leather. The two of you broke apart, a string of spit connecting you, a shaky moan leaving him. "Y-you'll study, right..?" He asked, his voice hoarse, the words coming out as a pant. "Mhm, 'm alllll revved up now.." You cooed, the words sticking to him, the sugary sweet tone making his heart flutter. "Just keep me on your cock 'nd I'll get right to work.."

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 7

Read Ding here | ~4.6k words

Warnings: punching, fighting, fixing my cliff hanger from the previous part.

From me: This is the last part, but I tried to keep the ending open a bit so I could come back if you want 💕 thanks for reading this one. Hope you liked it!

Summary: Harry isn't the only one fighting the night of the biggest match of his career.

Three minutes.

Each round was three minutes.

She thought over the last few months of watching Harry train had engraved a three-minute timer into her internal clock. Like her mind was able to simultaneously count out 180 seconds and continue working on whatever project she was tasked with at the time.

The crowd was so loud—just several feet behind a door. She thought about her phone. The one she left with Niall so it wouldn’t get lost while she tried to get towels, food, and use the restroom. Alongside Harry’s phone. Part of her believed even if she could have used it, Niall wouldn’t have heard it anyway. She straightened her back, standing taller and preparing herself. She pulled against his grip on her arm. Her heart was pounding but she felt it in her bones.

She could do this. She had to do this.

She heard Harry’s voice teaching her all the self-defense moves she had practiced for months in the back of her head. She thought about the classes, the training in her living room.

The goal isn’t to win. S’not a boxing match. Want t’minimize you getting hurt. Your only goal is t’get away safely. If y’get away, you’re gonna come find me, Cupcake. M’not gonna let anything happen t’you.

“What’s your problem?” She snapped.

“You told other girls about me?”

“No, I warned them.” He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her.

“You’re a bitch.” She tried to keep the nerves from getting to her.

She could run out the back door and try her best to get to the front again. Harry would understand. It would be better than being the sitting duck she was now. There was the whole no phone thing but at least the security guard would recognize her. He would keep an eye on her. No way he’d be willing to face the wrath of Harry for not doing so.

She pulled on her arm again trying to loosen his grip. She thought about the shower she took after their date. If it could really be called a date. Despite everything happening in the moment she had the intense desire to look up the definition of date because that could nothave been a date. A date had to have some sort of mutual feeling of companionship or amicable emotion. The way his body felt on hers made her skin crawl.

She didn’t want it then and she didn’t want it now.

“Let go,” she ordered.

“You’re—”

“I said let go,” she pulled hard, dragging both of them further back into the room but closer to the backdoor.

“Stop—”

“Let go, or you’ll regret it.”

He chuckled; it sounded sarcastic. Disbelief evident in his tone—even his short laughter. “What are you going to do?” He taunted. Honestly, part of her wanted to know the same thing. What was his plan? Attack her alone in the back of this place? It was obvious. Niall would come looking for her sooner or later. Someone would come back here because they needed towels. It was a matter of when not if. All she needed to do was hold him off.

Fortunately, she had been given all the lessons on how to do just that.

“Let go,” she repeated, feeling stronger than that awful night and more so than she had in the months since. “Harry—”

“Your boyfriend is busy.”

With a deep breath, she realized she had lost count of the seconds. Was the round over? She didn’t know. But she knew Harry was safe. Harry would never fuck around with consent. He said so himself. Harry was going to rip Jack’s arm off. Hell, Harry would rip his own arm off if she asked him to.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Clenched her jaw and yanked on her wrist in his hand again. “If you don’t let go, he’s going to see. Then you’ll wish you never touched me,” she vowed.

He smiled darkly. “He’s not going to see,” he promised.

Despite how much stronger she felt than the day she met him, she was still scared. Her stomach twisted; nausea ensued. There was a genuine fear growing inside her that felt very similar to how it felt right before she thought was going to throw up. The feeling rose to her throat, and it took all her control to swallow it back down. She inhaled deeply through her nose and brought all the steps and moves Harry had taught her in the self-defense classes to the forefront of her mind.

Jack was bigger, stronger, and way more terrifying than she was.

But she was determinedto get away.

“Let. Go.” She ground her teeth together tugging on her arm that she knew was going to bruise.

“Just—”

“I’m going to scream,” she could see the irritation on his face as she continued to interrupt him.

“Don’t you dare you stupid, little—”

She was glad her dominant hand was free and used it smashed her palm into his nose so hard she felt a crunch and was immediately met with a stream of blood. It poured immediately on her hand, and she should have been more grossed out but before she could think about it for long, she bolted back for the main room.

He groaned loudly but chased after her. He reached her at the door, grabbed her arm, and flung her back to the ground. She yelped as her body landed with a thud. Her head hit the ground making her wince involuntarily. She could hear people cheering. No one would hear her if she screamed. He knew that.

Harry wouldn’t get to her.

The mere thought terrified her.

She kicked. Making minimal contact with some part of him but did leave him incapacitated for just a moment—a moment she needed. He cursed lowly under his breath. Her mind was working at the same slow pace she crawled and clawed at the ground, blood dripping on her shirt from his nose as he stood over her clutching his groin. Harry told her the most vulnerable position she could be was defending herself on her back. She was mortified. Her adrenaline screamed through her veins.

The announcer was calling something about Harry and the match. There’s a ding, ding, ding signaling the end of the round or the beginning of the next. She didn’t know anymore. All she knew was she wanted to be in there. She wanted Harry to see her. She was certain he would stop in the middle of a round for her.

“You broke my nose,” He snarled.

It took every ounce of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from saying good with a smug smile. Her heart was in her throat. Clawing uselessly at the floor knowing she wasn’t going to get anywhere at that rate. She kicked again, trying to remember the training and the moves Harry made her practice in her apartment. Her instinct was taking over and arguably making it worse for her just as Harry had warned.

The air suddenly felt so thin. It was difficult for her to keep breathing steady—scared and anxious out of her mind. She could see little black dots in her vision with anxiety taking over. The roar of the crowd made everything she needed to do impossible to focus on.

But the little voice in her head had a nearly melodic British accent now. Slow, steady. Encouraging.

It screamed at her to get up and keep going.

She slammed her foot into his leg, just at his knee, knocking him off balance. He landed just as hard as she did. She knew he was going to get up quick, so she needed to be quicker. She leapt from the floor and burst through the double doors. She sprinted toward the ring. He was hot on her heels she could feel it, but she didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. Not when security shouted at her and not when the attention of people watching finally got them yelling for her.

She told Harry earlier that day she wasn’t lucky. But at that moment she was. Perhaps the luckiest person ever. She felt it in her bones, and she planned to thank every divine spirit in the universe when she reflected on it later. There was the briefest moment in every round right after the bell rang where there was the slightest down pitch in volume as the cheering stopped and people waited to see who would make the first move in the ring.

That moment happened the second she was close enough for her voice to carry the final distance to Harry. “Harry!” Her voice was cracked and broken but she knewhe heard it just because of the volume of her shriek. She believed everyone in the arena heard it.

She wasn’t quiet about it; just like Harry (and Louis) taught her. Her voice was so loud even the referee looked over and watched as the man chasing her grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back to the floor. Her head hit hard against the hardwood. Stars reappeared in her vision, and she wondered if this was what a concussion felt like. For a moment she was stunned. Forgot that she was supposed to be fighting for her safety. Defending herself. The seconds ticked by so slowly, she wondered if she was going to pass out. There was a deafening quiet, muffled shouting; like a scene in a movie where the hero is aware of her surroundings but can’t quite get a grasp on it.

It was weird it was happening to her in real time, and she blinked rapidly trying to get her vision to focus and her hearing to return. But she was able to register in her confused mind that she was in the main arena. Because even if Harry didn’t hear her, she knew that everyone saw him take her down to the floor.

That was the goal. To get away and find a crowd.

She did it.

“You stupid, fucking bit—” the sound came roaring back so loudly it felt like he was shouting right in her ear. But he was standing above her again still dripping blood on her clothing. His face was in her vision for half a second. But that was all he got. Half a second. It wasn’t an exaggeration. Her heart was flying so fast, so she knewhis smug expression was hardly in her scattered vision for a mere fraction of a second. Not even one whole beat thudded against her ribcage and then he was gone.

Once more someone was standing over her, but unlike moments before, she felt so utterly safe.

Harry was there. Like some Greek god scorned. She almost felt bad for Jack. Because the thought of being on the receiving end of the look she could only imagine Harry was giving made her shiver. Half-naked, his black shorts, his black gloves hung at his hips, and she could tell his hands were balled into tight fists inside his gloves. She could see the rise and fall of his shoulders even at her angle. The heaving breaths he was taking.

Briefly, he turned his neck, to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes were furious and wild. There was a cut on his eyebrow again—probably the same one that kept reopening without the proper time to heal. She could see the redness on his ribcage starting where she knew he’d be bruised like a peach in the morning. His jaw was sharp, teeth gnashed together, lip curled in a terrifying snarl.

He turned back to him, on the ground, holding his face with blood still pouring from his nose. “You goddamn piece of fucking shit,” he growled.

The adrenaline in her veins stopped working overtime. With Harry standing over her, his feet shoulder width apart straddled on either side of her legs she felt herself relax. He was ready to fight—of course he was. He was in the ring only moments ago. His stance was itching to punch someone. He had that look in his eye that he had in the first round. But now it could have been the fifth or six round that she had interrupted. She didn’t know because she wasn’t there to see and lost track of counting the seconds. “What did you do to her?” He snarled.

Reason began to return to her mind. Harry was going to kill him—which would really put a damper on their night if he went to jail or something. “Harry,” her voice broke hoping that maybe he’d just let it go. She was safe now.

But she also knew it was well past the point of return for her boyfriend. Someone hurt her. He saw it.

Harry wouldn’t take it lightly. Couldn’t. He promised her dad. He promised her.

“Harry,” Louis hissed sensing the same thing that she did.

“Oh shit,” Niall hurried to her. “Are you alright, Cupcake?” he cooed gently and tugged her from beneath the arms and out from under Harry’s threatening stance. Niall held her the way she wanted Harry to hold her. His hands were on her cheeks, assessing her quickly, searching for a signal that she was okay. “Is this you?” He asked, looking at the blood all over her shirt as he searched for the injury that caused it.

Harry was still heaving, waiting for his opportunity. Her voice was dead in her throat trying to answer Niall but the only word that would leave her mouth was Harry’s name. It made him even angrier; terrified and hurt that she was possibly hurt. So hurt she couldn’t respond to Niall’s question—a question that Harry wanted her to answer just as badly.

“She broke my fucking nose,” he growled, eyes intent on her even though he nearly had to peer around Harry to look at her.

The whole arena froze.

She couldn’t see Harry’s face any longer, but she could sense a pleased smile was on his lips. Niall glanced away from checking her over as the smile passed over his lips as well. Hiding how happy he was that the blood was not hers. Louis, despite how pissed he was at Harry, couldn’t help the little smile that graced his face, either; proud that she used his lessons to help herself.

She swore everyone in that arena was smiling.

Harry turned back to her in Niall’s arms and winked at her. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

In spite of how scared she was, how sad she was, how much her head hurt… nothing but pride filled her body in that moment.

Then Harry lunged for him.

*

It took Niall, Louis, and Harry’s opponent from the ring to pull him away from pummeling him beyond recognition. Niall had nearly dropped her after he lunged. Grabbing his arms before he could do more damage than two punches. Louis suffered at least one punch to the face himself which she was sure was going to be returned in kind during Harry’s next training session. It would probably do Louis wonders to just punch Harry once and for all.

But naturally, it was her that stopped him. Her head ached and she wanted to lie down but she stood anyway. As Harry fought tooth and nail to be released from the hold of his friends and opponent, she stepped in front of him catching his murderous gaze. “Harry please,” she pleaded her eyes watery with all kinds of emotions coursing through her. She was wobbly on her feet, and she felt a little nauseous fearing her head injury was worse than she thought without all the adrenaline flowing through her. She put a hand on her head and winced in pain while trying to keep herself from swaying in front of him.

There were police and security guards and all kinds of shouting. But Harry finally saw her, his breath was shallow, his opponent from the ring was standing in front of him as well; a gloved hand pressed to his chest while Niall and Louis held each arm forcing him back. But it was her voice, her tear-filled eyes, that made him stop. His breathing started to slow. He swallowed hard, glaring at the opponent he wanted more than the one that was in the ring only a few moments earlier.

He gave Louis and Niall a shove. “M’alright,” he snapped and pushed his opponent out of the way. Within two seconds she was in his arms. Feet floating off the ground and he swore he never heard the crowd cheer for him the way they did then.

Harry didn’t even revel in it. He loved boxing. It was cathartic for him. Competitively, he was good at it. But he wanted nothing more than to not be in that arena and never come back. Her body was warm against his skin. He was cool with sweat. “Let’s go, Cupcake,” he murmured in her ear and started back for the locker room.

*

Harry was disqualified from his match. A single “1” in his loss column that upset her more than it did him. He was icing her hand and arm where his fingerprints left bruises. He kept rubbing her shoulders, her temples, and any of her muscles that ached in her back without the hormones that dulled her senses during her own fight. The intensity of it all, all that adrenaline subsided and made her body crash. All her muscles ached with the notion something happened.

And she stopped it.

Harry, despite everything, could not stop smiling as if she had boxed her own match and won. “I’m so proud of you, Cupcake,” he murmured and kissed the back of her achy head. It was sore from where it hit the floor (twice—once harder than the other). Louis deduced she did have a concussion; so, Harry was doting on her as if his life depended on it. Now that they were home in his apartment, he was much calmer—surprisingly. Granted, inside his home was safe. She imagined anywhere in public he was going to turn into a bit of a crazy person when it came to her safety. Honestly, she couldn’t wait to see him in action. She didn’t want him to act insane, but the worry was nice in his own way. (Plus, she was pretty certain she could get him to relax with the promise of kisses.) “When you’re able to, I want to know everything.”

“I don’t like punching,” she told him wrinkling her nose even though he couldn’t see her. He chuckled.

“I know, kitten.” He shifted her in his lap so she was propped against the armrest of his sofa, her legs strewn across his thighs. Now he could see her face. His smile was lazy, adorable, boyish once more. Hard to believe someone so cute could be terrifying when needed.

“I broke his nose,” she reminded him quietly.

“I know, Cupcake,” he answered tiredly. His own body was sore, his mind exhausted. She could see him practically snoring while talking his eyes turning to slits as he tilled his head against the back of the couch. One arm draped over the front of her body protectively. His other hand pulled at her hair gently as possible, massaging her scalp where he knew that horrible, moronic man yanked it hardest when she was running from him. “M’so proud of you,” he murmured.

Her cheeks turned pink under his praise, but she remained silent for a moment. “I’m sorry you were disqualified,” her frown was deep.

“Kitten,” he tutted opening his eyes at the same time, a renewed sense of energy had him looking at her with such disapproval. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Nothing’s important as you,” he promised, a frown touching his lips.

“But you were undefeated, it bothers me.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes again—maybe the smallest part of him feeling bad for himself. “But it doesn’t bother me, Cupcake. I’d rather lose m’undefeated record for this than ever let something happen t’you. Rather have a losing record. Far as m’concerned, m’still undefeated. Honestly, y’should see the other guy,” he smirked ruefully. She watched his gentle breathing, felt the soft pull of her hair on the back of her head, and she bit the inside of her cheek.

“I wish I could’ve—”

“Uh-uh, Cupcake,” he interrupted, his voice quietly on the edge of sleep. His mind reeled with the thoughts from the locker room.

Harry paced, still angry beyond belief. He settled her on the bench that he usually sat on after a fight. His doctor and Louis looked her over. “She hit her head hard on the ground,” Louis murmured looming over the doctor’s shoulder as he examined her eyes. Harry punched the locker nearby creating a dent the size of his glove. She flinched at the sound as he paced. The doctor didn’t move.

“Twice,” she offered weakly.

Twice? He growled low in his throat. Niall was right beside him in case he tried to make a break for it and find him again. Niall planned on tripping Harry worst case scenario to keep him from leaving.

“Twice?” Louis repeated curiously. “Shit, babe,” he frowned. Harry punched the locker two more times, making her flinch again. “Harry, she’s already scared out of her mind,” he snapped angrily. Harry was still pacing. Niall paced alongside him, trying to keep him calm. Her eyes locked on Harry as he paced, and the doctor looked her over. She felt like she was blinking a thousand times per second. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Harry.

“Do you have any other injuries?” The doctor asked. She shook her head.

“Just my head.”

“You’re sure? This is a lot of blood.”

Harry growled again. She glanced at him nervously again. “S’not mine,” she whispered reassuringly.

The doctor smirked, patted her knee as he nodded. “Good girl. Harry, you taught her well,” he assured. “Ice. Harry, I am to presume you’ll be her bedside nurse? Concussion protocol, wake her tonight, every couple hours, and pain meds. Call me if there’s an issue.”

Harry was still fuming. “Can y’drive her car t’my place?” He asked Niall. He nodded solemnly, afraid of angering him further. “Get these off me,” he held out his hands feeling frustrated that Niall didn’t move faster to get them off. He wanted to cradle her face and massage her achy muscles. He wanted to kiss her pain away and hold her until he felt she was better. She was only vaguely aware of his frustration. Louis was tending to her while Niall cut the tape off his wrists, nipping his skin with the scissors because Harry refused to sit still.

“Here you are, love,” Louis was gentle, cupped the side of her head as he sat in front of her and placed an ice pack on the back of her achy skull. She blinked unsurely, eyeing Louis suspiciously.

“Do you hate me?” She asked, tears filled her vision without her realization, and she heard Harry snort.

“Jesus Christ, Cupcake,” she could hear the way his eyes rolled. Niall snorted.

Louis chuckled, shook his head. “Not at all, babe, why?”

“He lost because of me.”

“He could lose a thousand times because of you,” he assured her. “Your safety is most important.”

She took a deep breath and sighed. “He’s late because of me too.”

“He was late before you came along,” he promised. “Also, I like those Oreo brownies you make more than him,” he winked.

Harry smiled as she did. He could see her adding it to her mental list of goodies she would need to make.

“Harry, baby?” She whispered. Pulled him from his thoughts—fortunately so. He didn’t want to think about how much her head hurt.

“What, Cupcake?”

“I love you.” He smiled up at the ceiling, eyes still closed. Like it was new to him to hear her say it and it was just his dream telling him she loved him.

Right as he inhaled to say it back, his phone rang beside him. One eye peeled open and then the other as he looked at the number. “’Lo?” He asked, pressing the speaker button.

“Hey, Harry?” The voice at the other end asked. She didn’t recognize it.

“Speaking...”

“Is your girl okay?” He asked.

Harry looked at the phone curiously, he glanced at her and then back at the phone. “Yeah. She’s fine. Broke his nose.”

“Good girl,” his voice was quiet, but there was an air of pride in it as well. She blushed at the compliment, remaining silent while she listened in.

“Yeah... Listen... s’been a long night. Can y’tell me what y’want? Was it t’gloat?”

Her lips parted, realizing the man at the other end that earned the coveted one in Harry Styles’ loss column. Because of her. (Although she knew Harry would tell her it wasn’t her fault if she said that out loud.) “Right, sure. Sorry. Listen... M’glad she’s alright. Sorry it happened. But... anyone with a brain and two eyeballs knew that wasn’t a fair loss. Anyone would have stopped in the middle of our match. Hell, I almost stopped for her,” Harry waited for the point of saying all this. He squeezed her shoulder and brushed his lips across her cheek. “So... I want a rematch.”

Harry straightened, his hand falling limp behind her back. “A rematch?”

It was quiet. “I want to win the right way.”

Harry smiled; excitement danced in his eyes. Gently, he squeezed her knee. “Y’mean lose the right way,” he taunted.

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “We’ll see, I guess. Yeah?”

Harry hung up. He turned to her, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled. “What do y’say? Y’still want t’be m’good luck charm, Cupcake?” He pulled her into his lap and buried his face into her neck. Like he belonged there.

“You still think I’m a good luck charm? After today? Hell, since the day I met you? I’ve been nothing but a headache. Clay is dented because of me. You had to teach me how to defend myself. I’m whiny and injured and—”

Harry didn’t seem to register anything she said at all. “M’the luckiest man alive t’have you, Cupcake. Will y’be m’good luck charm, still?”

She stopped listing her faults. It didn’t seem worth her time. “Of course, Harry,” she smiled.

“Y’think I can go the distance?” He asked.

Honestly, the thought of Harry getting punched for twelve full rounds still scared her. It was a lot for her to watch him do five or even three. “Maybe not all twelve,” she hedged with a giggle. “Want you in one piece at the end, baby,” she reminded him.

“Ye of little faith,” he frowned, grumbling. She giggled and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her. His lips quirked into a shy grin, and he pressed his face back into the crook of her neck. “Well, one round?” He asked. She swore she heard the bell in his voice as he asked. The start of a new fight, a new set.

“No,” she shook her head, pressed her lips to his hair just next to his ear. The only space she could reach while he was tucked in her neck. “I’ll go the distance with you,” she assured him.

Maybe the concussion was playing tricks on her. But she swore she heard a bell as he smiled against her skin.

Ding.

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[hacked-by-jake]

I'm sitting outside. It's slightly windy. Not much. Perfect amount for me. And it gives fresh and clear air. I have music. And my thoughts are circling about moonvale of course. So I just want to leave a couple of spontaneous words. Just letting out what I think and feel at the moment.

I'm sorry, Everbyte. I'm sorry for all the hate. And I'm sorry for the amount of people being disappointed in your work. Because, well, there's still this little sprikle of hope in me. Of hope and disbelief. I'm thinking about Duskwood and what you created with it. I'm thinking about all the love we felt through Duskwood. You could see the effort you put into it. We saw the improvements and amazing ideas. Good plots over and over again. New ideas every single time. The quality was already amazing, in my eyes. Sure, some little bugs here and there, but nothing huge. Nothing bothering.

But all this. All things we saw in Duskwood. It made us believe you care about the fans. It made us feel like you hear us, as you said once. It made us feel so happy because it looked as if you're really doing this game for us.

And this.. My brain refuses to believe you really just want our money. My brain refuses to believe that you did, what you did in Moonvale, on purpose. My brain wants to believe that you never meant to make us feel this way.

My brain wants to believe that it all made sense to you, and that there was nothing wrong with it, that it was harmless in your eyes. In your world.

And because my head wants to believe in the good, my heart hurts to see how much negativity you get. My heart hurts to see the hate. And the critism.

But sadly, even if it hurts, sadly it's necessary at the moment to share constructive feedback about it.

But even that must be incredibly stressful, because there are thousands, tens of thousands of people who are currently pointing their fingers at you. And that must be hard. Even horrible. Awful.

As I said, my brain refuses to believe all this only happened because you didn't care about your community and you only cared about and wanted our money. I still have hopes.

And I want to belive you had the same love for Moonvale as you had for Duskwood. If I imagine.. You let your new baby out into the world with the hope of making people happy... And as answers there's nothing but negativity in any way. I have no idea how this must be. And I'm incredibly sorry for it.

And even if I'm completely wrong. Even if you really just wanted money, even then I still feel bad for you about the amount of people looking at you. Even then, although you would deserve it in this case, even then I would still feel bad for you. Empathy is an interesting thing. And parasocial "relationships" as well.

We see what we want to see. But I'm sure, in Duskwood, during Duskwood, we saw who you really are. Because there was no hint of what we saw in Moonvale. How could you fake what we saw in Duskwood?

I wish it wouldn't be the case. But you deserve critism for it. Normal criticism, of course. No hate or insultings. But feedback is needed. In our eyes.

And I just hope that there will be a solution. I hope the situation will improve. I hope so, so much.

Duskwood saved me in so many ways. And it's the truth. Not just a saying or anything. It did. And it gave me so much.

Maybe we completely got everything wrong. Maybe we understood some things wrong.

I just hope that a lot of criticism will be noticed and reflected and that you will find a solution. Because I simply think.. I'm sure we all want to play Moonvale. We all want another amazing game from you. Because Duskwood was an incredible game. A game we loved. And we also want to love Moonvale.

In my eyes, there's so much potential. And I really hope in the next episodes we will see more of it. And less worrying about money.

Of course it's your game. Do whatever you want. And if that's the path you want to take, go for it.

But I really want to say, you have an amazing Community behind you. And if there will be improvements and some changes, I'm sure we all will still be by your side. And we all will support you. This time, gladly. And not because we had to in order to play.

I'm sad. I'm desperate. I'm confused and overwhelmed. And..

I'm sorry.

For everyone. For Everbyte. And for all of us.

I'm sorry about this situation...

[blegh-110]

iv. "i've still got you all over me"

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: When you try to get over Sam when you were 14 and he was 16.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.9k

Your winter break was a bad time for you. There was no escape from Sam. 

It seemed like every single day he was over at your house, and what you used to think was a dream come true, it was now a slow torture. You barely saw him during those two weeks, but you heard him. His laugh in the living room, his footsteps walking down the hall, just his very presence, and it killed you for fourteen days straight.

And even when he was gone, he was still on your mind. 

You had more than enough of your own sadness by the time break was over. And after the harsh realization that you can’t live your life staying infatuated with a boy who no longer looked your way, you were ready for the upcoming semester. Your focus and undivided attention would no longer be on Sam, but on yourself because you missed being happy. 

This determination came from a sleepless night a few days before the second semester began. You were up late just reminiscing about him when you saw how truly pathetic you were being; what were you doing helping him cut his classes just so he could stay in your life? You put off so much of your own life just for him, and none of it was worth anything. 

So when school began, you immediately threw yourself back into your academics. That meant no more doing the bare minimum when it came to homework assignments, in class work, tests, quizzes, presentations. You did as much as you could for two reasons: to resort back to your studious self, and to distract yourself from any thoughts of Sam. 

Instead of spending your lunch time in the cafeteria, you either went to the library to do some work or went to your next class and ate there, plus more work. And instead of spending your Friday nights and weekends with or thinking about Sam, it became an opportunity to do any extra credit and to get a head start on any assignments. 

And in the midst of reverting back to your former self, you avoided Sam at all costs. And it wasn’t subtle. 

If you entered the living room and saw him sitting on the couch, you left. If you saw him walking in your direction in the school halls, you turned right around and took the long way to your class. If you saw him in the cafeteria, you would leave and buy a bag of chips and a soda at one of the vending machines instead of waiting in line. 

It was difficult to live this way but not abnormal. Before, you were constantly on the lookout for Sam only hoping to see him. But now, you looked around the room just to make sure he wasn’t there as well. And it made you equally anxious and frustrated. When you were actively looking for him he wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but now that you were avoiding him he seemed to be everywhere. It made respecting his wishes to stay away from him a lot harder. Then it got even worse when he suddenly took a strange interest in you, and it once again felt like all your efforts went to waste. 

The first time was when he knocked on your bedroom door to hand you your book that you’d left in the kitchen. It was an interaction that ended very quickly with you shutting the door in his face as soon as he started talking. You didn’t do it with the intention to hurt him, you were over being angry with him, mostly(if you thought about what happened too much then you’d resort to holding that grudge against him). It was because you weren’t a confrontational person and any conversation with him would only remind you of how you acted when he was with his new friends. 

Then he tried the same thing at school when you were just about to enter the library during lunch when he saw you, but he was stopped by the librarian because the last time he came in he spilled his entire bag of chips on the floor and was being extremely loud. 

“C’mon, it was only one time”

“No it was not, Sam. Now go, you’re not welcome here anymore.” She shooed him away with a scowl on her face. 

“Please, I’ll be gone in like five minutes, I just need to talk to my friend real quick.” And he gestured to you. The title made your breath hitch, his friend. Since he’d met you, he hadn’t referred to you as anything. And really you didn’t either. Even though it was nice to hear and it did give you butterflies,  you just weren’t ready for whatever conversation he wanted to have, so you shook your head before you said “I can’t, I have a test to study for.”

You almost turned back when you saw the disbelief in his face. 

Then there was the time you finally gave in to him, but only because it was pouring rain on your walk back home and you failed to bring an umbrella. 

It was hard to hear at first because it was raining so hard, but you heard the rumble of an engine next to you then saw a slightly beat up, faded red car. You would’ve ran if you hadn’t seen Sam in the driver's seat with the passenger window rolled down, when did he get a car?

“Get in.” Was all he said but you shook your head once again.

“I’m okay, Sam.” You really weren’t. You were freezing cold and your shoes were really wet, and you were pretty sure all the papers in your backpack were soaked. 

“(Y/N), I swear to god, get in the car. I’m not letting you get home like this.” It was a bit aggressive the way he said it, but he looked worried sick. And maybe you shouldn’t have felt this way, but you liked that he was so worried about you. The hope that he still cared about you never died. It was miserable at times, like how you thought he’d magically change his ways last semester and you were continuously let down. But at times like these, there was the smallest amount of faith that barely convinced you that this time would be different. Maybe he still cared about you, just a little bit. And it was that small amount of hope that was enough for you to get in. Then you immediately wished you hadn’t. 

It all would’ve been perfect; him saving you from walking in the rain, the warmth, the softest music playing. But as soon as you got in the car, the tension was there, the hurt was still there, and it stopped you from appreciating it all. 

“How’s school?” He asked and you wanted to die. Is that what you two resorted to? Small talk? Months ago you would’ve told him without him needing to ask because you wanted to. But now you were afraid to tell him anything, the fear of being annoying and a burden took all the words out of your mouth. 

“Good.” You whispered.

“That’s good.” 

It was silent the rest of the ride, which was only a few minutes but felt like an eternity. And you were ready to jump out when he parked in front of your house before he called your name.

“What?” You sighed out, exhausted and ready to forget the last seven minutes. Why wouldn’t he just let you go? Isn’t that what he wanted? You to be gone? Why the sudden change of interest? Did he know this was killing you? You just wanted to be left alone. 

“I’m really sorry,” That surprised you, very much. So much that your growing annoyance simmered away and you were left confused, “for what I said to you, and-and how I treated you.”

“Oh, okay.” You whispered the only words that made sense to say at the moment because you were at a loss for words. 

“I know that I treated you like shit, you helped me cut classes and tried to help me with school and I was acting like an asshole.”

What he said was true, but you still believed that you were bothering him and being obnoxious about it. You also thought how embarrassing it must’ve been for you, a younger girl, to be so concerned with him, an older boy. If there was a younger boy breathing down your neck like it was his job you certainly would’ve told him to go away as well. So you couldn’t really blame him for telling you to leave him alone, but Sam seemed to think the opposite when he saw you shake your head in disagreement.

“(Y/N), stop it. You did nothing wrong, I was doing some shitty things and you were just trying to bring me back. I’d do the same thing if I were you,” You got butterflies from his words, “and I promise, if that happens and you totally fall off the rails, I’ll be even worse.”

Maybe it was because you were the forgiving type, which was very unfortunate at times, and you had too big of a heart to fault anyone, but you hated to hear him talk about himself that way.

“I did those things myself though, you didn’t make me.” 

“But I let you do it fully knowing you didn’t want to,” He paused again, “and I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I thought I could ignore it but… seeing you so upset, I don’t know, I hated it.”

You were weak, or maybe you were just young and still so, so in love with Sam and liked the idea of him fighting for you, but you forgave him at that moment. And it was relieving. No more tip-toeing around him or feeling uncomfortable in your own home when he was over. Honestly, you wanted to have this talk with him, but confronting the person who hurt you is never an easy task. And you didn’t think he’d respond well to it. 

“Besides, I did miss you.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head again, but with a smile. It was a wonderful thing to hear but you didn’t believe him in the slightest. You could take his apology and his admittance to being a jerk, but that was something else. It felt too good to be true.

“No, I really did! I like talking to you. Your brother’s cool and he is my friend, but he’s not the most sympathetic person.” Now that you knew. He simply could not sit and listen for the life of him, anytime you tried to tell him about your day or how you’re feeling, he just wouldn’t care. 

It was silent for a moment after, and you resorted back to that nervousness around him that made your heart pound, but in a good way. 

“I, um, have to go now. I have a test tomorrow.” It was true, but you also needed to get out of the car because now you were starting to take in the cozy, warm atmosphere in the small space. 

“Alright.”

“Bye.”You gave a smile and a small wave when you got out of the car. 

“I’ll see you around, (y/n). Y’better not leave the room if I’m in it, okay? I’ll track you down.” He teased. Or was he being serious?

You giggled at his words, “No, I won’t, I promise.”

And with that, he drove off after you got in the house and you went back to daydreaming about him.

divider by @dollywons , next part may be shorter because this is peak drama in their blooming love story. it's all cute from here. and if you guys want to send any thoughts or anything like that to expand upon, i would love them! these two are my babies rn<333

[penkura]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open!

Would you be alright writing headcanons for a GN!Reader(Fem is fine too if it's a struggle) for Sanji and Zoro with an idiot reader? The type to throw themselves in danger, believe people at face value, able to succeed a mission by failing all the instructions ect.

Im a big fan of idiot readers because I am one myself, if you could add some cuddling in there too I would be so grateful

Take care!

Hi!! Gosh, this was fun to write lol. Sanji and Zoro are my boys, they would both def end up with idiot readers lol. I hope you like it! :)

Sanji

You, an idiot?

His precious, darling beloved?

Never, he’d fight anyone who said you were! He’d never call you that himse—

Oh there you go again, throwing yourself in front of Luffy. Haven’t you learned he’ll be fine?

You do it every time, and even after Sanji and the others tell you to stop being so self sacrificing, they get enough of that with Zoro

Its fine, its fine, Sanji knows you just want to protect your friends

Its even fine when you nearly fall for an obvious scam of some woman needing money to pay off debtors, and it just happened to be the same amount in your hand

Thank goodness he was nearby and able to grab your hand to get you away from that, telling you what was going on

You felt really stupid for that, but it was fine, no problems, Sanji kept you from losing your money, Nami would’ve killed you both if you had

Its not fine when you end up injured this time, jumping in front of him when an enemy throws a spear at him

It barely grazed you when you pushed Sanji out of the way, but he’s still horrified knowing it was because you were protecting him that it happened

No matter how many times Chopper tries to Sanji that you’ll be okay, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he’s still upset with himself for being distracted by another enemy

Sanji wants to distract himself but you won’t let him leave you alone, dragging him into the bed you’re staying in that night and demanding cuddles since you’re hurt (not that hurt but still)

He’s glad to obliged, holding you close and burying his face in your shoulder while you stroke his hair

“Sorry I worried you, Sanji.”

“You’ve got to stop throwing yourself in front of people…”

He just doesn’t want to lose you

Zoro

He’s the one that calls you an idiot the most

In a loving way the majority of the time, but other times he really does mean it

The day you almost got swept away to another crew because on of their members tried to sell you a sob story about needing medicine for a sick kid?

Yeah you were an idiot for that one

The time you run to protect Nami, shoving her out of the way and receiving a deep gash on your abdomen

Zoro knows you want to protect people, to protect your family

But you should let him handle things sometimes!

He was on his way to protect Nami himself, but of course, you being you, ended up jumping ahead and pushing her away from the Marine attacking her

After all the Marines are taken care of, Chopper has you in the infirmary on Sunny immediately to assess your wounds

You got the worst of it, good job!

Zoro hears you got the worst of it, say your prayers because he’s pissed

Not entirely at you, partially at the Marine that got you, but still at you too

“You’re lucky his weapon didn’t have poison on it or somethin’!”

“I don’t think the Marines use poison, Zoro.”

“That’s not the point!”

You let him go off, telling you everything that could’ve gone wrong

It’s rare for even you to see this side of him, but it’s nice to know he cares this much

Eventually Zoro calms down, taking a deep breath before he walks back over and drags you into a hug

“You’re such a damn idiot you know?”

You nod, but smile, “but I’m your idiot, right?”

He rolls his one good eye and nods himself

“Yeah, you’re my idiot.”

He wouldn’t change a thing if it meant you were his and he was yours

Though he would like you be a little more careful in the future

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose II (Sinclair daughter!reader)

Hello everyone, this is the second part of a new Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

This is the direct continuation of this.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings : No proof reading, angst, mentions of a boy groping, touching and wanting to rape reader, killer!reader, violence, blood, anger, manipulation.

Your grandfather and grandmother were killers. 

Your father and uncles were killers. 

Even if you didn’t know about all of this yet, it was written in your blood, in your DNA. You were born to be a killer too. You were born with this rage and with this skill. You were born to be something else than just normal. 

You weren’t a lost little girl anymore.

You were 16. 

You were doing your best to have the life your adoptive parents wanted you to have; you were good at school, you had friends, you were going out to parties. You were mute so things could sometimes be a bit difficult, but you were enjoying watching people in silence. You knew everyone’s secrets and dramas. You knew people’s weaknesses and desires.

So you knew when John came to greet you one morning, he didn’t have good intentions towards you. 

“Hello sweetheart. It’s been a little while since I've noticed you. We’re in the same maths class by the way. You remember me?” he said and you nodded to let him know you did remember him. He brightly smiled “Awesome. So, my friends are organising a party on Friday night and I’d love you to come with me” he offered.

You licked your lips and leaned into your seat, wondering what to do. He was towering over you and everything in his gestures showed he was acting like a predator. He probably thought that since you were mute, you would be a very easy prey.

You weren’t too happy to put yourself into danger, but at the same time you were bored out of your mind and your parents would be happy if you would go out with a boy. It would be another proof that you were settling in your life and that everything was going alright. And as long as you were wearing your sun necklace, you weren’t afraid for yourself. 

You finally nodded again and his smile turned into a smirk.

“Brillant, girl. See you on Friday’s night. I’ll come get you at your place” he said before leaving. 

He really wasn’t interested in you in a good way. 

You neither.

Your mother was really excited for you so she helped you get ready for what she was calling a “date”. You dolled up like you were supposed to before leaving the house without feeling anything. Your parents reminded you to be careful. 

Little did they know that at the instant you got into John’s car, he placed his hand on your thigh and groped you. You softly pushed him and gestured for him to drive to the party, which he finally did.

You were annoyed. 

Once at the party, he quickly greeted the people he knew, keeping you by his side like you keep a pet. You hated it. You started to get angry. It was a quiet anger you knew a little too well. You did everything to keep it manageable inside your heart. You couldn’t have a crisis here, in front of those people you were going to school with. You didn’t want your parents to get you to the doctors again.

You kept a smile on your face, even when he rushed you upstairs and found the closest empty bedroom he could. He hushed you inside, before locking the door behind you two.

“Ah finally alone, baby” he mused

You knew what his intentions toward you were but you weren’t afraid, you were oddly calm as you watched his every move. The fact that someone would want to hurt you and use you was making you burn with anger now. You had never felt so full of rage, and yet it was the cold madness of a killer that was taking possession of you. You knew what was going to happen, but you also knew you weren’t the prey. 

Your father and uncles started to teach you how to take care of yourself, how to kill, even if they never said it was for killing. It was always to protect yourself from “the bad people of this hostile world”. You had continued to learn how to fight without your parents knowing.

And even if you had never shed blood before, you were ready. The rage was too strong to make it stay inside of you. You smiled as the boy came closer to you, clearly not realising he was the mouse, and not the cat. He touched you and you let him do it, at first. 

“I knew you were going to be a good girl” he murmured to you and you hummed in answer. You gently grabbed him by the hair before your grip tightened and without a warning shot you moved to the side and brutally led his head against the wall. You hit him hard and he got disoriented. You continued to hit him over and over again.

You killed him. 

You killed him violently. And you felt good, oh so good. For the first time in years, the anger quieted down and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

You cleaned up the crime scene, your bloody hands and face, and his body before leaving it where it was. Your black dress was hiding the blood stains littering it but you knew you would need to burn it down once you would be back home. You went downstairs to dance with the others, as if nothing had happened. 

The body was found only when everyone thought it was time to go to sleep.

Of course the police interrogated you, but they couldn’t believe that such an innocent looking girl, who went through so much in her life already and was hence very soft, could have killed someone with such hatred. Your parents were so relieved nothing happened to you, not realising you were the danger. 

No one even found out who killed John.

And you found this very exciting.

So you continued to kill.

You realised you were very good at it, as if it was a gift running through your veins. Whenever you felt anger, you left your house at night for a “little walk”. You would easily find a new prey; anyone was good enough for it. It was also why the police couldn’t find you: there was no link between your victims, not even their profile. You killed for the sake of it, for the well being it finally gave you. You were known as the “serial killer of the shadows”. Your parents always worried when you were wandering around at night, not realising you were the danger prowling around the city. 

Killing wasn’t the only joy in your life, even if it was getting a big part of it. Around the same time you murdered John, you asked your parents to take up art classes. You wanted to do sculptures, to build things with your hands. You enjoyed doing pottery a lot. It was appeasing you because you could just focus on your hands and on your art. You were very good at it, mostly because you watched Vincent making art a lot so his gestures were written inside your brain.

You started to work on wax as well. You asked your parents to buy you the materials and they agreed. They were happy you were expressing yourself through art. It was certain you were doing better now. They had no idea that you simply still wanted to be Sinclairs’ heir. You wanted to find them again one day, and to prove to them that you were the only daughter they needed. You wanted to come back home more than anything. You knew your "real" father would understand your anger. You weren’t too sure if he and your uncles were killing the tourists, but you were certain they wouldn’t judge you for your night activities. You would be free in Ambrose… You just needed to find your way back to it.

And one day, it happened.

“So, Y/N, where would you like to go during the holidays this summer?” your adoptive father asked you as you were all having dinner in the living room. You had meant to talk to them about your biological family for a quite a while now and it felt like the perfect moment.

“I want to go in the South of the country” you replied and your parents were surprised you seemed so determined about it

“Why there?” you mother hummed

“Because I come from there… I want to find where I come from. I want to find what happened to my mother… I mean I want to know if she was right about my father”, you explained

“I’m not certain this is a good idea, hon” your mother instantly replied and you pouted, disappointed but ready to fight for it

“Why not?”

“We… We haven’t told you about all the stories we heard about your family. Your mother had the time to say quite a lot about them and the fact you weren’t even officially existing for the State is proving a lot. You were a child so you probably don’t remember or didn’t understand what was going on…” she babbled

“What you mother means is that they are dangerous people and we can’t just go find him” your father added

“This is unfair. I need to know my past. If you were at my place, wouldn’t you want to know the truth?”

The discussion stopped there for the moment but a few days later, your parents offered you a deal. The plan was you would all go to the South of the country for some holidays. You would try to find the region where you came from, but you wouldn’t try to find your father. You agreed. 

The problem was you didn’t know exactly where Ambrose was, but you had found your uncle Lester’s town on a map. At least you thought you remembered it was. Your mother and you found somewhere nice with a cute little hotel around the area you wanted. You hope to find your way back home… and to find your family again. You had changed quite a lot and you weren’t too sure your family would recognise you. However, you were still wearing your sun necklace.

You thought the day of the trip would never come, as you were so excited about it. You could feel in your bones that you were finally coming back home, so many years after having left it. Your parents were a little bit on edge, but they loved you too much to cancel the holidays. Your mother had a very bad feeling about all of it.

However, once on the roads, you couldn’t help but panic when the car went by on the dusty roads without going by the advertisements for the House of Wax. You remembered them by heart as you saw them quite a lot when you were in Lester’s truck. You worried you would come by close to Ambrose but not close enough. You worried you wouldn’t find your family. You worried everything was lost forever. Your adoptive parents noticed how you looked around and they asked you if you were alright.

“I come from here” you admitted to them as you signed. They exchanged a very concerned look at those words.

“Are you sure? You recognised this place? Your mother asked you in a soothing manner

“Not really, but the roads were the same when I was a child. It’s not here, but it must be in this area. My family is so close by now” you replied

“Hon… We are your family” your mother frowned

“You know what I mean… I want to see them, I want to see my dad again” you shyly signed, knowing your adoptive parents wouldn’t be happy about it. They did exchange another look, full of concern.

“We already talked about it… We want you to be safe and… your biological father didn’t seem like a good person. We don’t want you to meet up with him… and certainly not like that” your mother continued as your father stopped the car and parked.

“You don’t know him, we don’t know if my mother said the truth. He never hurt me when I was a child” you said

“You didn't know him either. What your mother did…” she trailed off

“But now we’re here, we can have a look around” your father offered to your mother’s dismay. 

They argued in whispers until you left the car. 

You recognised the violent heat of the sun hitting you, you recognised how silent the road was, you recognised how easy it was to get lost and in need of help here. You had to be close to Ambrose, you could feel it in your heart.

“Let's get back in the car, honey. We’ll go to the hotel we booked and we’ll talk some more about all of this. It’s understandable you want to find your father, even just out of curiosity… But you cannot just come over like that. You don’t know how he would react, what he became after you left… We need to respect a process” your mother rationalised and you were forced to agree with her.

A little voice inside your head wondered what would happen if your family didn’t recognise you? Would they kill you like they probably got rid of the tourists during your childhood?

And yet, you prayed for the car to stop working or for Lester’s truck to appear on the road. Unfortunately, you safely travelled to the hotel. You all ate at a restaurant before deciding to go to sleep and to talk about everything the day after. Your parents thought it was better to rest and have a good night sleep before doing anything. They might hope you would calm down as well.

You didn’t. You talked about finding your dad right at breakfast.

“I could find my father” you said

“It has been said that you didn’t know where you came from exactly and that you didn’t even know your father’s name.” your mother said “Did you lie about all of this? Did you try to protect him somehow?” she continued and you hated to be trapped in your own lie

“I didn’t know back then. But when I saw the roads, I remembered” you replied

“Makes sense,” your father nodded and gently smiled at you.

“I don’t like this,” your mother whined. She had always been very protective of you and she felt something was off.

“Look, darling, we’re going to find a solution for everyone to be happy.” your father continued to smile “The two of you are going to have a nice day out together and I’m going to look for your biological father. If you can just show me on the maps where he used to live… And if I can find him, I’ll talk with him and make sure he is good enough to meet with you. How does it sound?” he offered

“It’s rushed! He was a violent man, how do you know he won’t hurt you, hurt her?” your mother continued 

“If you don’t have news after an hour, you’ll call the police. Y/N needs to realise who her father is to move on in her life. That’s normal. Everyone needs to know and understand where they come from. And even if it’s rushed, even if it doesn’t sound like a good plan, she needs it now. We have to try.” your father replied. 

“This is too risky. We can ask for the administration to help us with this… Especially if he is a bad man. It’s indeed important but we need to take our time.” your mother argued back so you started to cry. 

It was always your most efficient weapon. 

It was settled then.

Your adoptive father would look for Bo Sinclair.

--

Part III

--

Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210

[solargeist]

I love that you went from the watchers being this mildly terrifying force that doesn’t realize they’re terrifying (and traumatizing Grian) side eyeing that one 3L comic you made about the watchers making it a “game” for Grian (still very much thinking about the “yaaaaay you won!”) to now Oh My Gosh A Tiny Being Can We Adopt Him pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

ehehe i was trying to get my footing !! I think I have a grasp now on how I like writing them now ....

However !! The Watchers still very much traumatize Grian, even though they genuinely do love him, I've said that since the beginning, thats their babeyyyyyyyy Watcher, but still a Watcher nonetheless.

Aethers not exactly excused from this either, she loves him and cares abt him, but shes an angel, she just doesn't understand. She has an issue with..... Toxic positivity ? Shes not very confrontational and doesn't want to have hard conversations with him, its easier to hide things or just comfort him by rubbing his back or hair when hes upset. When Grian asks to visit Evo again early on, she already knows all the players have left, but lets him see for himself anyway. Its like when a kid begs to eat something like cocoa powder, not understanding how bitter it is, so you just let them. So its not a big deal to her, but is to Grian, its the horrifying realization that he is completely alone, all of his friends left, he feels abandoned and betrayed. All good things must come to an end though, she says, nothing lasts forever, except us ! haha !

Not to mention the purposeful sleep deprivation and isolation, the full control over what he eats, where he goes, what he does. Its not very fun being a kid, its hard and no one understands.

Aether didn't originally want to be a parent, nor was she exactly ready for that, so she just did a lot of things that were normal to her, what she went through or what other Watchers had told her. But ! She does care abt him, enough to bend the rules just a tinyyy bittttt sometimes bc ~technically shes allowed to since he's her kid, yes he can go home if he has a headache or eat fish if he asks for it wym.

Theres also Flora, his aunt, she has no interest in kids and sees Grian just as a Watcher in training, this means she's a lot harder on him, but bc he's her sister's kid she doesn't act on this all the time. She also projects her own issues on him, how can you survive or do anything in life if you're not strong ? Here fight this phantom creature you've literally never seen before. Thats as far as their relationship goes, she teaches him to fight. She pets his head sometimes anyway. (kind of like how parents will sometimes force their kids to play sports, or take extra classes, or get frustrated with you over math and you cry over disappointing them)

I don't think the Watchers are intentionally evil, but I don't think they're goofy dumb birds with baby fever either, they're complicated !! There something abt how people who love you can hurt you, and religion can try to save you and it'll doom you instead. (ok they can be a little bit dumb birds sometimes, but they're also righteous angels at the same time)

Its also kinda scary being 25 years old, and then being brought to some place you thought you had equal grounds on, but everyone is taller/stronger and treats you like a child or even a pet, that alone would have some side effects, i imagine.

They're very fun to write abt.

Grian also doesn't often get to see the sun.

[james-is-here]

Babes, Okay, Cheat fic idea and guess what....I use my ex's actual name cause he was honestly a jerk on the brink of being a dick.

The plot twist is that this cheat fic is more like a revenge fic in a way cause- Well, just read it, it's better than explaining it 😅 the member I used is also a mystery and I gave Mn arm tats cause it's a weakness of mine.

Specifically for @succubus-hansol because filth. This smut is filthy and messy.

Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk @michelle4eve @dontwannaexsist (Imk if I forgot you or you want to be added.

You were none the wiser about what your boyfriend was doing. You loved Shawn and he loved you, you trusted him and never saw him badly, he was the sweetest.

You didn't suspect the new cologne on him, the new hoodie, bruises, new necklaces, hiding his phone, elated attitude when he visited you, giving you vague answers when you ask where he's going....

Wait...

You didn't give him those things and his recent hiding from you is suspicious. How have you not looked into it sooner? Especially when he use to shrug when you took his phone, now he makes up excuses as to getting it out of your hand.

"Hey, where you going?" "Um...my mom needs my to help in her garden. I'll be back later." Okay, that's suspicious. "Isn't your car with your brother?" "Oh, I'm taking an uber." "Oh, okay. Love you!" You yell but he's already out the door. That's what tipped you off, first he was wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt and loose fitting slacks and boots. Second, he hates getting dirty, he doesn't do anything that gets him or his hands dirty.

When he came home hours later, he was tipsy, swaying everywhere and tripping over his feet before collapsing onto the couch and you watched from the dining table.

His phone ends up on the floor and you take the chance to check it. You two shouldn't hide things from each other but he does and you can't help but to listen to the devil on your shoulder, while your angel is trying to get you to trust Shawn but all you do is block it out.

You pick up his phone and unlock it, surprisingly it's the same passcode as always and yet he keeps it from you. Opening his app history, you see his messages and see that he's texting someone with the cliche contact name of "Doordash". Did he really think that you'd think the app itself was texting him?

Doordash: You just left and I already miss you 🥺

Doordash: When can we meet up again?

Doordash: I'm free tomorrow, wanna meet up at the convenience store next to my place?

Is he...seeing someone behind your back? Clearly this person doesn't know about you like you didn't know about him.

Scrolling through other messages, your chest tightens when you check a chat and realize that's it's yours and he fucking named you "Grubhub".

There's other contacts and fake names that haven't had any interactions in years, you and "Doordash" are the only ones minus his family members.

You pull out your phone and open your uber that you shared with him. Last ride on your account was surprisingly thirty minutes away. Closing out of the app and opening your contacts, you make a new one and save the "Doordash" number before going back to the other persons number.

After forever of texting Shawn, you know how to play the part.

You: Of course ❤️ I'm free as well, what time?

Doordash: Five okay with you? Wanna take you out before taking you to my bed. 😏

Damn, whoever this was is one smooth motherfucker.

You: Oh I can't wait 😩 See you then 😘

You delete the messages on your end then put the phone back with Shawn and leave yourself a reminder of what you just committed to.

What's shocking is you don't really feel hurt that he's been lying to you. Maybe a little but honestly you think you'll survive without Shawn.

When your reminder went off, Shawn was passed out in bed still. He woke up on the couch, hungover and in pain, so he was sleeping the previous night off.

"Mn, where you going?" He mumbled when he heard you digging through your closet. "Boss called me in for a little bit for a staff meeting and I need to pick up my paycheck. Won't be gone long." "Mmm okay." He hums as he stretches before settling and promptly passing out.

Leaving the bedroom with jeans and a grey t-shirt hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, showing the black ink chinese dragon wrapped around your right forearm and ivy vines wrapped around your left.

You grab a white cap and your keys, slipping on your shoes then heading out the door. The drive is short and you have to park across the street but looking around, you don't see anyone possibly looking for someone else until ten minutes after the set time.

A guy wearing all black walked to the door of the convenience store and leaned against the wall next to it, checking his phone and then turning his head back and forth, this has to be him.

Turning off your car, you get out quickly then cross the street, leaning on the other side of the door. You wait a couple minutes, glancing at him a couple times before the bell of the store rings. "Excuse me, you both are loitering. Either come in and get something or leave." The store owner scolds and you went to speak but the other spoke first. "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-" You quickly jump in, knowing she won't take that as an excuse. "No problem, Ma'am, we'll get out of your hair."

You give the other a tight lipped smile and walk over to him. "Sorry, come on." He surprisingly follows you to the side of the shop and you both find a bench. "Um, so why'd you do that? I was actually waiting for someone." "Sorry, again. Who were you waiting for?" "My boyfriend. His name is Shawn. I really should at least go back, at least nearby so he can find me."

He goes to stand but you stop him. "So you're Doordash?" "I- Excuse me?" Sighing, you rub your eyes and lean back. "Uh, okay...Shawn wasn't the one that messaged you to meet him here. It was me. He's also my boyfriend..." "What? No, Shawn wouldn't do that to me." "I thought the same thing. He told me last night he was going to help his mom in the garden." He sat up and looked at you almost in realization. "When he left my place he said he needed to get home to take care of his mom cause she was sick." "He came home tipsy last night." "We...We drank last night, how the fuck didn't I make that connection?" He berates himself and slouches back against the bench.

You both stare at the road ahead of you before you speak up. "Well...I'm Mn. What's your actually name Mister Doordash?" "Doordash?" You snicker at his confused face, thinking about it he is really cute. "Shawn named you Doordash in his phone. I was Grubhub." "That's so dumb." "That's what I said!" You laughed and a small smile graces his face. "I'm Chris or Chan. Guess it's...nice to meet you? I don't know." "I don't know either."

You both stare at the road again but you turn to look at Chan. He really did look cute, you guess Shawn can choose good men. He has a good looking face, fluffy hair peaking out of the beanie he wore, and you couldn't help but take in every detail, including how soft his lips looked, then you realized they were moving.

"Your ink looks cool." "Huh?" You blink, spaced out for a moment. "Your tats, they look really cool." "Oh, thanks." "So...Since we're both currently ghosting Shawn, wanna go get something to eat? It's better than sitting here and honestly I don't want to go home yet." You notice he's looking down at his fidgeting hands and glancing at your arms.

"Yeah, beats failing to try and get back at him and not coming up with anything." Honestly, since looking through his phone, the devil on your shoulder has taken the reins and you honestly wouldn't mind getting back at Shawn by using Chan.

"Can I be straight with you?" "Um, I think that'd still make you gay." You shake your head with a smirk as you laugh, throwing your head back. "Oh, you got jokes, huh?" He lets out a laugh and it's clear that the awkwardness is gone.

"I meant, smartass, can I be honest with you?" He giggles and nods. "Yeah." "We go get food, I pay, and then we get back at Shawn." "We?" You hum and stand up. "Food first, honestly I'm really hungry. I'll tell you then, yeah?" He sits up, looking up at you and then sighing and standing. "Yeah, okay. You will pay, right? Shawn makes me pay." "I always pay." "Okay then."

He actually takes you to Changbin's restaurant, his best friend. A homey bistro Chan helped him make a reality. "Who's this?" Changbin asked when Chan brought you to the bar in front of the open kitchen. "Funny story, actually. Mn, this is Changbin. Changbin, this is Mn, Shawn's boyfriend." Changbin choked on the water he was sipping and almost dropped his cup.

"You're joking." Chan sighs and sits down, you sitting next to him. "Nope. Apparently we were secrets, even in his phone." "Ooh, what were your names?" Changbin has heard of fast food contact names but has never heard it in person so he was eager to hear as he leaned on the bar in front of him. "Doordash." Chan answered and you followed with, "Grubhub."

Changbin grimaces and whistles lowly. "That's sucks. Anyways, whatcha want to eat?" Chan orders his and you get the same thing, not really sure what to get since his friend's menu looked really good.

When he delivered your food, Chan immediately started eating but you messed with your fries. "Hey, daydreamer, you okay?" Changbin teases when he returned from another customer. "Oh, yeah." "Thought you were super stunned by your food but you haven't even eaten anything." "Sorry, just never been cheated on and I feel like I should be upset. I mean I am but I also don't care." "People react differently. Honestly, if I was you I'd get revenge sex." Chan choked on his soda, couching and gasping and you reach over and pat his back.

"Ch-Changbin!" "What? That's just me." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I like you...funnily enough, I've actually been thinking the same thing." "Seriously?" Chan cleans up the soda he spilled and Changbin lowers his hands. "Yeah."

Chan didn't know how to answer, he just looked away and this time it was him staring at his fries. "Well, sleeping with other people wouldn't really be revenge but I guess-" "Dude, of course it's not revenge. I meant you and Mn. I-I mean if you want, y'know." Then he glances at you. "He's not bad looking, if you don't take him I will." You chuckle shyly while finally eating your fries. "Plus, you do have a thing for tat-" "Changbin! Please...I love you, mate, but shut up." "Dude, don't yell at me, you literally look like you brought him on a date."

He suddenly looks around, an older couple in a booth, a younger couple a couple seats down from you at the bar, and a teen on a laptop with headphones on at a table near the window. Looking at you, he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." "It's okay. Also wouldn't mind getting revenge with you." "Really?" "Yeah." You smile, looking down at the counter, glancing at Chan's friend then back to Chan. "Shawn is good a picking the cute ones."

He sighs, a shy grin on his face as he rests his elbows on the counter and covers his face. "He flusters easily, doesn't he?" "He's usually confident and flirty, this is a first." "Oh really?" Changbin snickers when you lean over to Chan and he doesn't notice. "Chan?" He uncovers his face to look at Changbin but jumps when he sees your smirking face, dropping his hands onto the counter with a small slap as he leans away, hiding his smile in his shoulder as he completely blocks the two of you out.

"You both are jerks." You lean back to your seat with a soft chuckle and watch Chan straighten back up. "Are you serious though?" "I'm not usually one to sleep with people I just met but yeah, I am." Suddenly Changbin is harshly setting down his towel on the counter and leaving from behind the bar and coming over to Chan, pushing him out of his chair then pushing you out of yours.

"For two people who just met, there's a lot of tension so go take care of it, lunch is on me, go, go, go." "Wait, I said I'd pay though." "Don't fight with Changbin, if he says it's on him, it's on him, I've tried." Chan answers you as his friend shoves you out.

"Go, forget Shawn, have fun, I don't know." He pushes you out the door and then shrugs at the end of his sentence. "I swear, why am I friends with him?" "I heard that!" He yelled from the other side of the door.

Standing there awkwardly, you put your hands in your pockets and look down at the sidewalk. "Um, we don't have to at this moment...we could just watch a movie if that's okay." Maybe a movie could relax your nerves a little. "Yeah, that's okay." He smiles and steps away with you following, taking you to his place which is surprisingly a block away.

His apartment was cozy, not too many decorations but enough to show his personality and what he likes. "It not much but it's mine." is what he said when the both of you entered. "It's nice." You replied.

Now you sat on his couch, he sat cross legged on one side and you were stretched out on the other, arms crossed lazily on your stomach. It was a bit awkward, just sitting there in silence but it was okay.

Chan suddenly moved to sit closer to you and you glance at him from your peripheral. "How long had you been with Shawn?" "Mmm a year?" "Damn..." "What?" "He was with you before me. Six months." You shake your head, honestly astonished with this information.

Bringing up his knees, you saw his hand reach out to your leg before it stopped and his arm wrapped around his legs. Bringing a knee up, your thigh moved closer to him and you readjust, an arm going over the back of the couch, and he moved slowly to mess with the threads of your ripped jeans, turning his head only slightly but mostly hiding his face in his knees.

He slowly moves from the threads to the edge of the rip and then his fingers slip into the rips, fingers soft on the small exposure of your thigh.

Hesitantly, you take his hand into yours, just holding it but he tightens the hold slightly and pulls it towards him while crossing his legs and holding it in his lap, not even realizing he's practically encased himself with your arms in front of him and behind him.

His fingers are light while tracing over the head of your tattooed dragon, tracing its body and turning your arm to trace the lightning around its body. You stare at the side of his head, watching his eyes take in the details of the ink.

For a moment, you get lost in his beautiful features. You suddenly act on impulse, his hands moving from your arm when you raise your hand to his chin and turned him towards you. "You trapped yourself." You said softly and his eyes move around rapidly and suddenly realize where he is. "O-Oh, sorry." "You really do like people with ink, don't you?" "Yeah. I-I don't know why...just looks cool."

Tilting your head, you move forward and kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and when he doesn't pull away you move under his jaw, your kisses were soft and were barely there.

He inhaled sharply when you pressed your lips under his jaw, specifically under his ear, and you graze your teeth over the spot to get his reaction, a barely audible whine, before biting and sucking. Biting his lip, he lets out a soft moan and automatically tilts his head to give you more room and you move your hand from holding his chin to under the other side of his jaw and hold him where he was.

Attacking more of his neck, his noises were soft and held back as he kept his mouth shut, his hand moving to your knee, nails digging into your knees and causing a dull pain but your jeans lessen it.

Your hand moves to his thigh as you move back on the couch, getting closer and pulling his thigh towards you which makes the male move, uncrossing his legs and moving just as close.

Without thinking, your left hand still on the back of the couch moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair then pull him back. That finally got a noise out of him, his lips parting and letting out a soft moan as he turns his head slightly towards you, lips still parted as his chest heaves out the soft pants he's panting out. His eyes wide and glancing at your lips, shining with spit from your recent attack.

You lean forward slowly, tilting your head and your lips barely touch before one of your phones is ringing. Pulling away, you look towards the sound and find your phone on the coffee table, Shawn's contact on the screen.

Looking back to Chan, he nods his head and you let go of his hair, leaning forward and picking your phone up before answering it bringing it to your ear at the same time Chan sits up, pushing you against the back of the couch and you watch as he throws his leg over your spread legs and sits on your lap.

"Oh-" "Mn? You okay, you've been gone for ages." You put the phone on speaker and hold it away from yourself as Chan places his left hand on your neck and his right on your bicep then leans into your neck, returning the marks that you gave him. "Ah~ Yeah, I'm okay, did you need something?" "No, just miss you. Thought it was just a staff meeting and getting your check?" "I-It was, boss kept me longer. He promoted me." "That's amazing!" That promotion was two weeks ago. "So you'll be home soon?" "Yeah, I should be. M-Mom asked me to stop and pick up dog food for Brexit." "Okay...Well, hurt back, yeah?" "I will." "Okay. See you soon, Mn." "You too, bye Shawn."

You hang up, tossing your phone onto the floor softly before placing your hands on Chan's thighs and turning to the left, laying him down and hovering above him between his legs. "You are braver than you look." "Thank you?" He asks with a laugh which made you smile.

"Now, can I continue what I was doing before I was interrupted?" "Yes. Please." Smiling, you lean down, barely touching his lips before you change your mind and lean up slightly, lifting your hand and thumbing his bottom lip, parting his lips further apart, his eyes locked on yours that are on his lips. "So obedient even though you just met me." His eyes flutter as he whines. You gently push his bottom lip back up so he closes mouth around your thumb and it's like automatic as he start sucking it. "How did Shawn get a hold of you? He hates being dominate."

He moans around your thumb when you push into his tongue then slip your thumb from his lips. "I-I'm m-more of a switch...but I haven't really, um, switched...guess I could only find subs so I never was one." "Well, now you can be."

Finally, you lean down and connect your lips, firm and absolutely certain that this is what you want cause when your lips connected with his full, soft ones and they parted easily for you, you didn't want to stop as you slipped your tongue in and swipe it along his, pulling a proper moan out of him and he sounds so good you can't help but groan in return.

His arms drape around your neck and pull you closer. In return, you act on impulse and lower yourself onto him and he moans again when your pelvis meets his, grinding your clothed growing hard-on into his.

Breaking apart for air, you move to his neck again and his back arches closer to you. "H-Hyung- Fuck, sorry." His hand flys to his mouth as you pick your head up. "So you have a thing for tatted older men?" "Am I wrong? I'm sorry." "I'm two years older than Shawn." "Same age as him..." Smiling, you kiss the corner of his mouth. "Then no, you're not wrong."

You lean back down, pressing your lips firmly to his before a ring tone goes off again. "Are you fucking serious?" You groan as you look up and grab Chan's phone, he takes it and answers but his hips still jolt up to meet yours. "Hey." "Chan! I'm bored~ Can we hang out?" "Um, one sec, can you call me back in a few minutes, I'm busy at the current moment." "Oh, yeah, sure." Chan hangs up, putting his phone on the table and pushing you off him to switch spots with him straddling your lap.

He pushes your shirt out of the way and drags his nails down your toned stomach before he comes to your belt, fingers fiddling with your buckle in fake struggle, fingers nudging into your bulge below the accessory as he pulls it apart, the buckle clinking against itself while he unbuttons your pants then slowly dragging down the zipper.

"Chan...Baby, go faster." You pant out before throwing your head back against the cushion when his hand palms you and opens your pants wider to fully hold you. Hissing at the sensation before huff out a moan and look back down at Chan's movements. "Fuck." "Baby make Hyung feel good?" He asked, his eyes wide and wanting as he bit his lip, humping into his own hand. "Yeah, baby. Shit, making hyung feel so good." His hand squeezes your bulge slightly before he lets go and pulls down your boxers.

Hissing at the cold air, you grip his thighs, attempting to pull him closer. "Hyung so...big...and heavy..." He purposefully lets some of his spit drip onto your tip as he begins to stroke you. "Baby, remember, Shawn's calling you back soon." "I know. You answer when he does and switch it to video call." "You crazy?" "For you? I am now. You think I'd let a guy and dick like you go?"

You chuckle as he scoots back on the couch, pulling your jeans further down to your knees and only pulls your boxers down to mid-thigh. "Gonna suck me off, Baby?"

His answer is taking your tip between his lips, tongue lapping at your pre-cum and swirling around your tip. "Fuck, so good." He takes more of you into his mouth, tongue moving rapidly on the underside of your cock, he moans as he pulls off of you with a 'pop' and exhales heavily as he strokes you, licking the underside of your cock. His actions all messy and sticky with saliva and pre.

His phone goes off again and you look over, grabbing it then looking back down to Chan who nods with a dazed smile and blown pupils. Answering it, you change it to video chat and point it at the ceiling before switching the camera to face the floor. "Chan? Why are you showing your floor, silly?"

He taps your thigh as he takes your cock down his throat and you groan as your head falls back, temporarily distracted as his warm, wet mouth takes you all the way in. "Ooh, you jerking off babe? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

You sigh out a moan, lifting your head then facing the phone towards Chan. "Wha- What the fuck, Chan?! You're cheating on me?!" You groan as he pulls up, his tongue sticking out as he reaches your tip and lets it rest on the pink muscle, his eyes blown wide and crossed slightly as he looks up at you. Your hand brushing through his hair, tangling in the strands and scratching his scalp, his eyes close as he moans. "Wait, Mn?! I recognize that tattoo, what the actual fuck?!"

"You cheated on us first..." Chan closes his mouth and starts bobbing his head, slurping and sucking, completely focused on your cock that he's become drunk on. "So don't go yelling at us." "This isn't fair." "What i-isn't fair is y-you cheating on me s-six months after we got together...a-and ch-cheating on Chan with me after that..." You get out through stuttery breaths as Chan's mouth felt so fucking good.

"W-We also know you were hiding us from each other. Doordash and G-Grubhub, really?" Chan gags on your length and gasps as he pulls back, jerking you off quickly as he rests your tip on his tongue again. "Fuck, Baby, go faster...gonna cum, baby, I'm so close." With your words, a moan, and a quick "Oh fuck!" You cum on his tongue as he keeps stroking you, humming at your release shooting into his mouth and when you finish, panting heavily, he licks your tip with the tip of his tongue before pulling back and shows his tongue mainly to you but Shawn was still yelling at the both of you.

He closes his mouth, swallowing your cum then sticking his tongue out to show you it's gone. You push yourself up, flipping the camera around before kissing Chan messily, tongues tangling together and you taste yourself on his tongue.

"We're done Shawn." You lean away from Chan and look at the phone, the younger male moving to leave marks on your neck as well. "Fuck both of you. This isn't fair." He hangs up and you laugh, tossing the phone away gently.

"Isn't fair, is he for real?" You think aloud before Chan is turning your head and kissing you again, moaning into your mouth as he moves back onto your lap and your hands hold his hips. "Hyung, please fuck me, I need you so bad." "Here or your room?" "Fuck me right here, please." "You can beg better, can't you?" "Hyung, please stuff me full. I-I need your cock, need it so bad, please Hyung, please." His his rut into yours, grinding his clothed erection onto yours, moaning freely.

"Baby so needy for his cunt to be full, huh? Only needy for me, right? You'll be mine from now on, right? Always want my cock stuffing you, keeping you full?" "Fuck, Hyung, please~" His moan morphs into a whine as his hips move faster.

You lay him down, sliding off your pants and boxers before pulling of Chan's sweats, finding him wearing only the sweats as his cock slips from the sweats and lays on his stomach, hard and leaking. "Commando, huh?" "I-I always was when I met up with him...now only for you." "Shit, you're so fucking cute." You toss his sweats next to your jeans before taking off your shirt.

"So hot..." His hands find your body as you hover over him and lick into his mouth. Your hand slips under his hoodie, hands smoothing over his skin and pushing up his hoodie. "W-Wait, I want to k-keep this on." "Okay." Your hand squeezes his peck before you move your fingers to pinch his nipple. "Ah~ Shi- S-Sensitive." He moans, arching his back and throwing his head back.

"I'm not removing it, just lifting it up." You say as you push the hoodie out of the way before leaning down and biting his tit. His hands, now covered by the sleeves of the hoodie, find your hair, gripping it when you move to bite and suck his nipple. His moans were music to your ears as you let go of his nipple and kiss up to his neck, biting and sucking under his ear.

"Hyung, please." He takes your cock into his hand, stroking you lazily. "I need to prep you though." "No, please." "Have you bottomed before?" He nods. "Please, I-I want...I need it, Please. I want the stretch...please, Hyung." He begs and you kiss him, your cock still covered in spit as you prop yourself up next to his hip, his legs folding next to your waist and spreading wider.

"Fuck." He wanted to watch but you are way bigger than he anticipated as you pushed yourself in, moving your hand to the side of his other hip. "Hngh~ Ah fuck~" His voice became higher, whinier as he lets out choked moans. "S'good, S'big. Hyungie s'big, ah~" He whines softly as he brings his hands up, clad with sweater paws as he hides his face.

"Yeah? Baby feel good? I haven't started fucking you and you're cock drunk. Has it been that long since you've been fucked?" "Y-Yes." "Then I will give you all I have." "Please, Hyung." "Don't worry, baby, I will."

You push yourself up, sitting back with your hands on his knees, holding him open. "Fuuuck Channie Baby...." Your left hand slides down his thighs and splayed itself on his toned stomach. "You look so fucking good. Such a good looking body, how did I not find you sooner?" Leaning back more only slightly, you gather quite a bit of saliva and let it fall off your tongue, landing on his hole and your length before you push in more.

Your right hand joins your left before holding his waist tightly and pushing forward at the same time you pull him towards you until you're finally all the way inside him. "Fuck~ S-S'full...S'big, fu-hgnh~" He squirms, body restless as he adjusts and his chest heaving heavily as it felt like the air was punched out of his lungs, his hands wanting to push him up to see but they let him go and his back arches.

You move your hands next to his head, mouth attaching to his and you swallow his moans, licking along his tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth. You claimed his mouth feverishly as you pull your hips back, leaning on your arm without pulling away to bring his leg up to his chest and hook it over your shoulder, leaning onto the other arm and bringing his other leg up and pushing it out.

"Hyung! Fuck, Fuck, right th-there!" "Already?" "Y-Yes, Yes, please move. Please fuck me, fuck...fuck me a-as if w-we d-didn't just meet each other, please." "Shit, you're gonna be the death of me now."

You push back in hard and he yelps, back arching the furthest so far as the moan he lets out is practically pornagrahic, you immediately thrust into him quick and hard, hitting his prostate dead on and drawing a moan with every harsh thrust into him.

"Fuck, you're so tight, Baby. So warm, so good. Such a good boy, practically letting a stranger fuck you." As he looks at you, his mouth is wide open, moans falling past his lips, and his eyes are blown wide and glassy with want, need, and lust. "M-Mn, F-Fu-uck, Hyung-" He gasps at the harsh thrust, your tip punching into his prostate. "I-I..." He whines, closing his eyes and looking away, covering his face with his right hand.

"You what, baby?" "I-I...I-I can't s-say it...just met you..." "We're w-well past that, Baby, just say it." "Fuck, I'm sorry...I-I l-love you, Hyung...I'm sorry." Leaning down, you give him a kiss, biting his bottom lip before letting it go and returning to hover over him. "It's okay, Baby. It's okay. I love you, too. Gonna take you out after this, screw Shawn, your mine n-now. G-Gonna treat you s-so well, g-gonna spoil my baby."

"Hyung, Fuck!" He arches into your chest, head thrown back. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, faster, faster, AH FUCK!" Your hand wraps around his length, helping him closer to his high before he's cumming hard, shooting up to where his hoodie is bunched up on his chest and he squeezes hard around your length.

He whines in overstimulation as you keep thrusting into him. "Just a little longer, s'close, gonna fill you up, fuck it deep into your cunt." He clenches around you, making you moan softly at the feeling. "You like that? Wanna be bred? Want my cum deep inside you, have my babies?" He moans as his dick twitches slightly. "Fuck, gonna cum, fill you full, Shit~" You cum with a moan, groaning a moment later as you thrust into him deeply, barely moving your hips as he moans at the feeling of your warm seed fills him up.

"Don't...Don't pull out..." You chuckle tiredly, collapsing onto him with your face in his neck. "U-Unless you c-can carry me t-to m-my room, we're laying here." You gently let his legs go, moving your own legs in order to sit up and take him with you. He yelps in shock as your dick shifts but still stays inside him.

"Think you can lean back and grab your pants?" "No, I sleep naked." "Okay then." You grab his thighs and stand up, he wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face in the side of your neck and leaving small kisses before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, cuddling into your arms.

"Do you have a plug?" "I'm hugging it." He mutters and you physically have to stop and laugh. "That's not...Really?" He giggles as you enter his room, closing the door behind you then moving to sit on his bed. "No, hold on." He detaches himself from you and leans to his right slightly to the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a plug.

"Want me to put it in?" "Obviously." You take the object from him and he places his hand on your shoulder as yours move to his ass, squeezing the soft skin and spread him before lifting him up, you slip out of him with a slight squelch noise then replace yourself with the toy. "Fuck..." "You okay?" He whines, shifting on your lap as your hands stay on his ass. "S'empty..." You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I'll get you a bigger toy so you'll always be full."

He pulls back, meeting your eyes. "Really? Y-You don't h-have to, I-I was just saying that stuff to...get off." "Were you really? I was serious, going to take you out tomorrow and spoil the hell out of you. Sounded like you were serious too, remember? Can't let a good guy and dick like me go." "I-I did...Shit..."

"Do you want to be something with me?" "I do. You're so much better than everyone else." "Then from now on you're my baby, my sweet baby boy, okay?" He nods shyly, leaning forward to hide his blushing face in your neck. "I'm your baby boy, Hyung. I..." He hesitates and you kiss his shoulder. "I love you, baby." He whines, tightening his hold around your neck. "Mmm...I love you too, Hyung."

Taking him with you, you lay down under his covers before covering you both up, he snuggles under his blankets and closer to you, wrapping his arms around your middle as he tucks himself under your chin, nose nuzzling at your neck and taking in your scent as your arms wrap around his shoulders and hug him close.

"Good night, Channie Baby."

"Good night, Mn-Hyung."

[waterlilyrose]

Hi! I just read What Is Wanting Once Again and adore it 🩷👏🏻 (you will get a lot of notifications from me hahaha)

What is your headcanon for Kanthony's first fight? The one that made Kate use the Viscountess room for the first time? An most important, how did the make up?

Thanks for writing and sharing 🩷

Hi there. Thank you so much and the more the merrier as far as I'm concerned 😊

Ooooh interesting. They are a truly passionate couple so I can imagine now and again they would have some explosive rows that would make the servants hide until it was over and the glass rattle in the window panes.

Maybe it might occur during Kate's pregnancy. Anthony is happy, so unbelievably happy, that she's having his baby. He has so many plans - what games to play with the baby, when to start reading to them, what names he would give them (maybe his father's name for a boy or Kate's mother's name for a girl). Everyone jokes how insufferably eager and protective he will be when he's going to be a dad.

And they are right. He will be. Completely so. And eventually it will start to grate on Kate.

She knows he means well. Of course she does. But pregnancy isn't the same as being mortally ill - you can still do a lot of things as long as amendments are made. And having her freedom curtailed won't go down very well with the fiercely independent Lady Bridgerton.

He tries to stop her riding her horses so much. Far too dangerous - what if she suffered another accident. He'd never forgive himself.

He doesn't like her out in the garden by the flowerbeds. His father died due to a bee - what if she's allergic too?

He removes all the ladders in the library so she can't climb up one to get a book. Meaning she's got to ask a footman to get certain ones down.

It's driving her nuts!

Eventually when she is five months pregnant, she can't take it any more. Anthony tries to get his mother to take over Kate's duties as Viscountess so she can rest. Rest?! She's planning tea parties; not sword fighting with Anthony's brothers!

She demands that he needs to stop and of course Anthony can't believe she's asking him to just not care about her or the baby - what kind of man did she think he was?!

She counters (screams) about what kind of woman did he think she was that she would ever do anything to hurt their child? What about when the baby was born? Was it to be imprisoned in a tower and Kate was forgotten about because she'd done her duty and now had no worth?!

The resulting slamming doors as they stormed apart could be heard at the Featheringtons across the street.

Kate and Anthony stay apart for three days. Anthony takes up residence in the Viscountess rooms so Kate can still have the comfy bed but that doesn't help much as everything reminds her of Anthony and the empty space in her bed reminds her that he's not there. She cries herself to sleep a lot due to remorse, missing him but also stubbornness. Why won't he believe her?

Eventually it is Simon who talks some sense into Anthony (through letter as he is still busy at Clyvedon) and Hyacinth and Gregory who make Kate see why he's being so daft.

Simon explains that he truly gets it - he was insufferable when Augie was born and was shocked at how much so - he never wanted kids at all in the first place. But Kate was one of the strongest and most maternal women he'd ever met. She would protect that baby with her life and Anthony had to learn to trust the depth of her love. "You are used to doing all the worrying on your own - well you aren't on your own now. Kate is there with you. Trust her to be your equal - it's never failed you before."

Hyacinth and Gregory also keep Kate company to try and cheer her up (they can see she's really upset even if she won't admit it) and absentmindedly talk about the times Anthony has annoyed them by being so stubborn. He won't let Gregory join in on fencing practise until he's older and there was the time he paid a doctor three times his salary just to make sure Hyacinth overcame a bad fever.

"He's prone to be a bit stupid sometimes. But I forgive him." Hyacinth declares.

"why is that?" Kate asks quietly.

"Because he's only really silly and fretful when he loves the person. He doesn't like that many people - for him to get so upset... It means he really truly wants you to be happy."

Anthony knocks on the bedroom door that night and asks timidly if he can come back to bed. The big grovelling apology he had planned is forgotten when Kate, intending to be haughty at first, bursts into tears (bloody hormones) and will only calm down when she is held for a full ten minutes.

They are a bit exhausted by the end (emotions are draining) before declaring that compromise had to be made - Anthony had to be less over protective but Kate needed to hear why he was and understand him a bit better. Because the root of it all is actually what it always comes back to - Anthony fears he won't be as good as his own father. He'll never be the father Edmund Bridgerton was - protecting is all he has because he'll never be as gentle, as kind or as fun as his father. Kate tells him the truth - she doesn't give a right royal damn how wonderful Edmund Bridgerton was. She married Anthony Bridgerton. And she loves him. So much it hurts.

This is their preview of parenthood - full of hurdles and emotions but ultimately they would be okay.

[serxinns]

Enemies to Yandere w/ Bakugo (ft Class 1a)

Katsuki Bakugo finally met his match. It’s Y/n Gojo! He got so mad about losing to them, he fell in loooove💕💕💕

He better pray his crazy classmates don’t find out!

At the start of UA bakugo hated your guts and the way he thought of you as a stupid little nuisance a piece of dirt, just any insulting thing he could think of,

When you 1st made it to UA he always had an off feeling about you sure he disliked all the extras but it was you that mostly bothered him the most and what he hated was that you knew he loved winning and you take advantage of that

Whenever you and he would spar you wouldn't give it your all and he ended up winning most of the time he hated it, how dare a lowlife blue-eyed freak who wears a mask over your eyes most of the damn time pity the future number one hero? And the worst part I everyone is always completing how "amazing" and "talented" you are when you were just going easy his blood felt like an erupting volcano

And his classmates hovering all over you trying to get your attention and fighting over you makes him even more pissed, Like how Denkinwould make comments about how hot you are and Mina wondering what your favorite type fashion is and if you like do dance sero memorizing about your pretty blue eyes mumbling sweet things in Spanish and daydreaming and even his own best friend Kirishima is all over you as well always inviting you to their group asking to spare with him and kiri and just talking about how manly you are he couldn't take it anymore that he was unaware that he destroyed his drink with his palms full of a tiny explosions

But for some reason, he couldn't get you out of your head even without his classmates always talking about you whenever he's alone im his room studying or doing homework he would always think about that stupid twisted smile of yours and your adorable annoying giggles it made him warm but frustrated that broke yet another pencil, another time when he was exercising lifting weighting or using his punching bag he remembers the time you pinned him down during training and everyone cheered but for some reason why was he focusing on how soft your hand was?

At 1st these types of events were "rare" but the more your presence was with him the more common it got it was torture to him he couldn't get you out of his head no matter how much he tried avoiding you didn't work just made him more desperate and eager to see you your touch your voice your everything

Your classmates also noticed his strange behavior recently safe to say they weren't happy with it Izuku would glare at Bakugo whenever you let him spar with you Kota would grumble under his breath when Bakugo would interrupt his animal lesson with you your classmates were so jealous and angry about how Akatsuki would have to audacity degrade you for anything you do your quirk, your fighting style, anything but yet you still laughed at with him you still teased him which made him more mad and another reason to be infatuated with you

Your classmates would try and guilt trip you gaslight you to make you avoid him and never talk to them again but whenever they did you told them that you were interested in his firey personality and reassured them that he wasn't hurting you nor he was a pain to you which made them get even more pissed not aware that bakugo was listening which a slight blush and a proud smirk on his face "so they like the firey type huh?"

Meanwhile your classmates expect Bakusquad who was mostly teasing him now were jealous about how much you tease and taut him at times while bakugo either say something back, point up his middle finger or just taut you as well the two of you were like friends lovers and rivals at the same time and they hated every single moment

Bakugo would get threatened by every student against him and Bakusquad would always tease him that he likes you but he didn't deny it or say it but just ignored them instead Jen was focusing on what your weaknesses were to make you a coward in fear and catch you off guard so he can make you be with him~ but his pesky classmates were in the way protecting you.. you may have those obsessed freaks with ya but he swore he was gonna make you submit to him while your classmates swore they were gonna protect you from bBakugo no matter what~

[aperrywilliams]

Has a Nice Ring to It (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

------------------ 

Author Masterlist

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife!BAU!Reader.

Request: Hi, I would like to request one where the reader and Spencer adopt a 4-year-old boy that they rescued in a case.

Summary:  It's pretty much the same as the request says, but focused on how they met with the boy and took the decision to adopt him.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort and angst with a happy ending. CM typical stuff, murder, unsubs, death of relatives, orphancy. Pregnancy and adoption are discussed. I don't know how the adoption system works in the US, so bear with me.

A/N: I loved the request. Dad!Spencer lives rent-free in my mind. Tell me your thoughts.

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

‘(Y/N)? What's your location and status? I repeat, what's your location and status?'

Hotch's voice echoes through your earpiece, but you are not able to speak. Not when the scenario in front of you is so overwhelming.

Although in your eight years working at the BAU, you have seen the most horrendous things one human being can do to another, from time to time, some cases can still paralyze you.

Like now.

As you look around, you can only think of the terrible minutes those who lived in this home must have gone through when the unsub forced its way in.

But something snaps you out of your stupor, and it's not Hotch's voice shouting in your ear; it's the sound of sobs.

The sobs of a child.

You take off your earpiece to get a better notion of where the sound is coming from, and you notice that at the back of the room, there is a closet with its door closed.

You quickly run over there and open the door, only to find a little boy sitting on the floor, hugging his knees and with teary eyes. When he looks at you, you can see the shock and fear in his eyes. The little one must be four years old at most. It breaks your heart to see him like this, but it immediately makes you go into alert mode again. You holster your gun first so as not to scare the kid.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay. My name is (Y/N), and I'm a cop. Everything is okay. You're safe," you tell him with a reassuring voice and kind eyes while you crouch to get to his level.

His hazel orbs are glued to your form as he blinks a few times.

Before you can talk again, he launches to wrap his little arms around one of your legs. With an arm, you hug him back as you block his view of the room with your body. He doesn't need to see the same you did as you got there.

"I've got you, sweetheart. You're okay," you repeat him as you put on your earpiece again. "I'm in the master bedroom. No unsub, but I found the kid," you murmured into the com.

Yet crouched, you lean back to look at the boy. "I'm gonna get you out of here now, okay? But I need you to keep your eyes on me until we get outside. Can you do that for me?"

The kid nods timidly. Removing your FBI jacket, you take him in your arms, covering you both with it as you make your way out. A bunch of agents enter the room at the time, but you keep your eyes on the boy, using your peripheral vision to keep walking and not fall.

Spencer is waiting for you at the base of the stairs. Concern is visible on his face when he sees you coming down with a child. When you reach the first floor, you withdraw the jacket that covers both of you.

"Good job, honey," you say to the boy with a smile. And then you briefly exchange a knowing look with Spencer. He nods, and you continue your way out of the house with the kid in your arms.

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

It turns out the child, named Elliot, is the son of the unsub's two recent victims. Unsub that you have been chasing all over DC for three days now.

You get confirmation of this information from Garcia by phone as the EMTs are checking Elliot in an ambulance parked outside the house where you found him.

It's still unclear what really happened inside. Still, it's likely Elliot's mom hid him in the closet before the unsub got upstairs. You don't know for sure because the little boy hasn't said a word to anyone yet.

And although it's heartbreaking, you know you have to make him talk about what he saw and heard.

Hotch, a few meters apart, beckons you to approach. 

"I'll be right back, okay?" You say to Elliot. But as you're about to step away from him, he starts crying and grabs your sleeve so you don't go. You look at your boss, confused as to what to do, and Hotch nods, showing you his cell phone, a sign that he'll text or call you so you don't have to leave Elliot's side.

A ping of your phone signals a text from Hotch.

'We need to know what he knows. You'll ride with him to the quarters. Spencer is going to drive you.'

You think it's reasonable due to the rapport it seems you already have with the boy.

"It's okay, Elliot. I'm not leaving you. But we need to go to another place now, okay? So we can be more comfortable. It's getting cold here," you point it out as the reason why you need to leave and not because he needs to be questioned. 

A faint 'okay' escape from the boy's lips, and it's the first word you hear him say. And a lump forms in your throat, acknowledging the vulnerability of that little human being.

From the corner of your eye, you see Spencer getting closer, presumably having talked to Hotch.

"Elliot, this is Spencer. He will drive us to a comfy place. He is a good friend and will take care of us," you announce.

"Hi, Elliot," Spencer says as he waves.

"Hi," the child murmurs as he waves back.

The ride to the station starts mostly quiet. You are in the back seat with little Elliot as Spencer drives. From time to time, he looks at you both from the rearview.

Spencer knows you are trying to come up with a strategy to talk to the child, so he takes the lead in doing the small talk to give you some insights.

"So, Elliot. Can I ask you a question?" Spencer starts, and the kid perks his head up and nods, with a 'yes' slipping from his lips.

"What is your favorite food?"

The boy pouts a bit while contemplating his response. "Pizza," he decides. "I like pizza."

"Pizza is cool," Spencer agrees. "Would you like some now? I can stop by and get one," Spencer offers.

"With ham?" Elliot quirks an eyebrow questioningly.

"If you like ham, then ham it is."

"I like ham and tomatoes," he adds. Spencer smiles.

"Did you know pizza with ham and tomatoes is (Y/N) 's favorite?" Elliot's gaze turns to you, asking for confirmation. You nod, backing Spencer's statement. A timid smile crosses Elliot's face, and you could have melted right then and there.

Spencer continues asking the boy little questions; that's how you know he likes airplanes, his favorite color is green, and he prefers Hulk over Ironman.

At the BAU, you head with Elliot to one of the meeting rooms—the most little and cozy so that the boy could settle in a less intimidating environment. Spencer follows you back, stopping by to grab from Garcia the pizza box and drinks he asked her for earlier.

"Here it is. Pizza with ham and tomatoes. I got some drinks, too," Spencer announces, placing everything on the table. He knows you have to talk to Elliot about what happened in the house, so he suspects you need privacy with the kid. He stops at the door and looks at you. You stand to approach him while Elliot is occupied with a slice of pizza.

He grabs your hand and, after kissing it lovingly, gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"You're doing good. It's for the better. He trusts you. We need to catch the guy."

It's just what you need to hear. You're still unsure about the whole situation, and Spencer, as always, can see it. Your husband of two years can read you like a book, and it's not because of his profile skills. You both have been through a lot together in the years of working together, being friends at first and then as a couple.

You nod, and Spencer kisses you on the cheek before letting you alone with Elliot.

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

It's shocking the wretched details that a 4-year-old's mind can retain and still see the world innocently. In some way, you're grateful Elliot can't understand everything that's happening around him.

You pass the information he gives you on to the team to improve the profile and get better clues about how to catch the guy. Spencer was right; Elliot trusts you, and that's why you feel responsible for his well-being. After tiring hours, he falls asleep on the couch, where you tuck him in and watch him sleep.

Spencer peaks into the room. He wants to talk with you.

You leave the little one sleeping while you go out and leave the door half open.

"You need a break. You hadn't eaten or slept in hours."

"I'm okay," you say flatly. Spencer raises an eyebrow. "I can't leave him, Spence. You know that."

"Baby, I know you're worried for him, but you need to take care of yourself too. I can stay with him for a couple of hours."

You know Spencer is right, but you don't want to admit it. Instead, you try to change the subject.

"Did Garcia locate any relatives?"

Spencer sighs. He knows the answer to your question, and it's not a good one.

"There is literally no one in his family except those who were in the house: his parents and an aunt. There is a distant cousin, but she lives in Sweden, and she doesn't even know his existence. And even if she wanted, she could not do the adoption procedures because she lost her American nationality."

That means Elliot will fall into the system, waiting for someone to adopt him. You don't even know how to respond to the news. They are devastating and break your heart.

Spencer looks at you with concern.

"Are you okay?" your husband cautiously asks, although he knows the answer from the look you return to him. It's a look that says, 'I'm not okay, and there is nothing I or you can do about it right now.'

In silence, he envelops you in a tight embrace that you reciprocate, hiding your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," you mumble after some minutes. Spencer leans back to look at you.

"Why are you saying sorry?"

"Because I should be working my ass right now to catch the son of the bitch who did that to his parents," you pause to control the anger that starts bubbling inside of you. "Instead of being a mess and useless here."

Spencer cups your cheeks so you can look at him.

"Hey, don't say that. You are doing even more than it is expected from our job here. You are the only one Elliot has talked to about what happened, and it has given us solid leads. Beyond that, you are helping him, caring about him, and being by his side in this horrible time."

"It's so unfair, Spencer."

He knows what you are talking about and nods in agreement. You continue talking.

"And I know there are so many other children that have to go through something as horrible as this, and they, too, have no one to take care of them. But with Elliot, I - God, I don't know why it feels different with him. The mere idea of him in the system makes me sick."

Spencer feels his chest tight, but he doesn't want to be vulnerable when you're the one who needs to be comforted. He pulls your body towards him again, holding you tight.

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

A whole two days have passed, and after much insistence and even convincing Elliot to tell you not to feel bad about leaving him for a few hours, Spencer gets you to take a break. So you can take a shower, eat and sleep.

The rest of the team works full-time and around the clock to catch the unsub. With the new clues you had him identify, it was only a matter of hours before they could finally get him.

Spencer is with Elliot while he colors with crayons. On the sheet, he is painting the sky blue.

"Do you know why the sky is blue?" Elliot asks Spencer, whose lips quirked up in a smile.

"Well. It's because of something called the scattering of sunlight by the atmosphere." Elliot's eyes widen in confusion.

"Scattering of sunlight? What's that?"

"It's like when you bounce a ball off a wall, but with sunlight and tiny air particles."

Elliot giggles, picturing what Spencer just said.

"So the sun is playing ball with the sky?"

Spencer laughs, amused by the kid's imagination.

"Haha. Well, sort of. You could say that."

An excited Elliot decides what he wants to do next.

"I wanna play ball with the sun too! Can we?" 

Spencer raises an eyebrow, contemplating his response.

"Maybe not with the sun directly, but we can definitely play ball later. How about that?"

"Yes! Can I get my red ball? It's my favorite!" Elliot chirps and Spencer's heart swells.

"Sounds like a plan, buddy."

Spencer's answer seems to satisfy Elliot, who continues coloring.

He doesn't have the heart to tell the kid that maybe he will have to leave soon once a child service professional gets assigned to his case.

After a while, Elliot finishes his drawing and passes it to Spencer, who examines it curiously.

In it, there is something that resembles a woman holding hands with a child. Next to it is a sketch of what appears to be a tall man, and in the blue sky, two winged figures.

Spencer asks him who they are, pointing to the drawing.

"She's (Y/N)," Elliot points to the woman holding hands with the child.

"That's me after she found me," he explains, putting his finger over the drawn kid. "That's you," he continues, indicating to the tall man.

"I look really good here," Spencer jokes. "And these? Spencer now points to the figures in the sky."

"Mom and Dad," Elliot says, and Spencer's breath hitches in his throat. "They are in heaven now and look after me. They sent (Y/N). Mom told me."

Spencer doesn't know how to respond to that, although he's curious about the last thing he said.

"What did your mom tell you?"

"When she left me in the closet. She told me I was going to be fine. That good people would find me and take care of me. And (Y/N) found me. She's good people."

Spencer's heart protrudes with pride and love as he sees how the boy recognizes you as a good person and seems to appreciate you much more than he thought.

"She is," Spencer concedes, with a little tremble in his voice.

"You like her?"

Spencer's cheeks blush. Even a 4-year-old can catch how hooked he is for you.

"What makes you think so?"

"You look at her like dad looks to mom. And my mom told me when people look like that is because they like each other."

"You're a very clever boy, Elliot. And you're right. I like her. We are married, actually. Do you know what is that?"

The kid nods, pointing to the gold band adorning Spencer's ring finger.

"Exactly."

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

After a few hours, you return to the BAU and find Elliot asleep in Spencer's arms, who is lying on the office couch.

A sad smile crosses your face. On the one hand, the image triggers so much sweetness, seeing your husband, the love of your life, taking care of a little one who needs so much love and care. But on the other hand, the certainty that there is nothing you can do to change the destiny of that little boy who, at such a young age, has already experienced such terrible things.

You are so absorbed in the image that you don't hear Garcia until she is next to you.

"This pair hasn't wasted any time. Elliot colored for a long time while he asked Spencer everything he could think of. Of course, Boy Wonder was fascinated to answer all his questions. Afterward, they gave a tour of the floor; they even ran through the hallways. They even went to play football in the parking lot. That's why they are both exhausted."

"My husband running through the hallways and playing football? Who would have thought," You joke. Garcia nods, smiling and placing a hand on your shoulder.

"How do you feel?" She also realizes how difficult this case has been for you.

"More rested, although until this is over, I don't know how I'll really deal with this."

You wouldn't have to wait long to get to that point. Just as the social worker comes to check Elliot's case and, inevitably, takes him away, Garcia gets a call from Hotch saying they have the unsub in custody.

Everything happens too fast to process, and the only thing you manage to do is sit next to Elliot while Spencer talks to Nancy, the social worker, and tells her the details of the case. The kid is awake now and telling you everything about his afternoon with Spencer.

When Nancy and Spencer peek in the door, you know what it's about. Turning to Elliot, you talk to him softly.

"Sweetheart, this is Nancy. She wants to ask you some questions. Is that okay with you?" you probe. The kid lifts his gaze to the woman at the door and frowns.

"About mommy and daddy?"

He's too smart and perceptive for his own good, you tell yourself.

"A few, yes. But you can say only what you are comfortable with, okay?"

Elliot does not look very convinced.

"Can you stay?"

Your eyes soften as you exchange a knowing look with Spencer.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't."

"And Spencer can stay?"

"I can't either. I'm sorry, buddy. But we promise we are going to be right outside," Spencer affirms.

Elliot reluctantly agrees, and you leave him with Nancy. Once you're out of their sight, you feel tears begin to roll down your cheeks. You turn to look at Spencer, and you see his glassy eyes, too.

He takes your hand. "Let's talk in a more private place," he tells you, entering another of the offices nearby.

Closing the door, you give free rein to your emotions and begin to sob. Spencer hugs you tight, and he cries with you. You two know you need to hold each other up right now.

When you feel you have released some of their tension, you both separate from your embrace and sit in the chairs adjacent to each other. Spencer holds your hand.

You still can't believe the little boy is going to get into the system. You bite your lip in pure frustration.

"I know," Spencer says. "I don't like the idea either, but someone has to take care of him. More so now that the case is closed."

"Does the bastard even understand the damage he has caused?"

It is a rhetorical question because even if the answer were positive, it does not change the fate of little Elliot in any way.

Spencer is affected, too. During the time they spent together, he became fond of Elliot and stole his heart in the same way he did with you.

To be honest, in the last few hours, Spencer has been mulling over an idea, but he needs to talk to you first. Although he already guesses what your position could be in the matter.

"Maybe we can do something," Spencer muses, and you look at him baffled.

"We do?" you question. Spencer nods, smiling at you.

You are trying to read your husband, but his warm smile and understanding eyes won't let you anticipate what he will say to you.

With a hand stroking your cheek, he spoke next.

"Well, if you ask me, Elliot Reid has a nice ring to it."

Your eyes widen at his words.

"What? Are you saying that we- Spencer, you are suggesting that we -"

It's not that it hasn't crossed your mind. But you didn't think it was something Spencer might have considered. Although thinking about it and knowing your husband, his heart and kindness have no limits.

"We can do it. I mean, it's not going to be easy, but we could try. I think Elliot is worth it the effort."

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. Shaking your head, you are debating the idea.

"Spencer, if you only are thinking of doing this for me, it's not fair."

This time, he shakes his head before cupping your cheeks with both hands.

"Hey. If I'm suggesting the idea, it is for all of us. Elliot needs who can take care of him. And we talked about having kids a while ago, remember?"

It's true. Before getting married, you talked about it and agreed it was something you both wanted, but not yet. After two years of marriage, you had not discussed the topic again because it was tacit that you both wanted it eventually.

"Yeah, but what we talked about was me getting pregnant. This is different."

Spencer chuckles. You're right about that. But for him, it doesn't change his mind about it.

"The method? Yes. But the outcome is the same. A family. Our family."

"Are you serious about this?" You ask him, locking eyes with him as you hold his hands, pulling them out of your face.

"Absolutely," Spencer replies right away. "Is this something you want too? It won't be easy, though. There will be a lot of paperwork and interviews, and we'll have to make adjustments to our routines. And if everything goes well, we could move to a bigger house, in a neighborhood with good schools. I could lower my workload here and start teaching," he rambles, and you start giggling out of nervousness and excitement.

"I want to try this. And there is no other person more perfect than you, with whom I want to try it. I love you, Spencer Reid."

"And I love you, (Y/N) Reid."

A tender kiss seals the moment, and you're sure you've never felt so confident about doing something like this. Or at least try.

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

Spencer was right. 

It took time and work. 

Months passed before you got the news that you could actually adopt Elliot.

However, while the process was happening, you became Elliot's temporary home.

If Hotch did something to make that happen, nobody mentioned it.

With periodic visits from the social worker, you showed how well cared for he was and how good he adapted to your family.

You stopped working at the BAU and started teaching. Something Spencer had suggested for him, but you decided to give it a try first.

And you never have regretted your decision.

Elliot is now part of your family. The boy you found scared inside a closet can now smile again and feel safe with you and Spencer next to him.

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[fllowered]

feeling so disappointed right now :(

[aingeal98]

Thought about Daisy Johnson too long again. 7 dead 5 injured.

[uncanny-tranny]

Trans people, please don't rely on other people to tell you if your experiences or identity is valid.

It is a very human thing to seek understanding and validation (humans are social creatures and whatnot), but seeking people to tell you that who you are is valid places a ton of power in others. What happens when somebody tells you that they don't think you're valid?

And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if your identity is "valid" or not to other people. What matters is if your identity suits you. You aren't a robot who lives at the behest of others, who can change the core of your being at the drop of a hat. You will continue to exist as you are with or without validation and with or without permission.

[tariah23]

Outside of all of… that happening to Gojo, and finishing Snowfall the other day, eek……..

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up