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queen-haq · 3 years

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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.��

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #a woman scorned

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

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the knife

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Once a week, Bucky cleans and sharpens his knives, but this time, the easy task takes another path.

word count: 1.936 words. (i know, it's long, but it worth it).

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! knife!kink, sir!kink, praising!kink, foreplay (female receiving, use of a knife), language, mention of bodily fluid.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Who in their right mind wouldn’t feel hypnotized by the way Bucky has to dance a knife between his fingers?

Once a week it’s all he does during the day. Clean and sharpen his knives, after spending the whole morning training with them, while you can’t stop looking at him amazed. And horny. You feel like a slut, let’s be clear. You can’t help but imagine how good his hands make you feel whenever he touches you, whenever he grips your throat, whenever he pulls your hair. But, mostly, he’s too stupid to notice it. Even innocent you could say.

So, there you are, sitting on the sofa in front of him pretending to be reading a book, while his fingers grab a cloth with too much care to clean the blade of his favorite one. The one you got him for your first anniversary. A mini-machete with a black leather handle and golden ornaments all around it. When Bucky saw it for the first time, he fell in love.

As soon as he raises his oceanic eyes towards you, yours fall to the pages trying to hide the bunch of emotions within your chest and your lower belly. You can’t help but lick your lips clearing your throat, a gesture that makes him giggle putting down the machete over the table. In complete silence, Bucky stands up to stretch his arms to the ceiling, before leading his steps dangerously closer to you. Pressing your lips to contain a guilty laugh for being caught in action, you look at him through your eyelashes.

“You have something to tell me, doll?”

You shake your head swallowing greedily, about to choke on your own saliva.

“You sure?” He inquires then, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

Fucking grey sweatpants. This time, you nod with your head, whilst he is sitting by your side. Bucky grabs the book between your hands, tossing it above his shoulder to somewhere on the floor, without putting his eyes away from yours. You gulp again, starting to feel some difficulties to breathe staring at him placing his arm made of vibranium over your shoulders. There’s no gesture on his face when he raises his left hand to your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“C'mon... Tell me what you want”.

His lips brush yours, driving you insane and racing your heart, as his firm tone of voice slides itself between them. A shiver runs down your backbone, drying your throat as the heat floods your guts. But you can’t think of a single word to say. Bucky waits patiently a couple of seconds, nodding at the end as —for him— the game has started. He puckers his lips, about to get up from the sofa pulling his hands away from you. And you stop him. Of course you do. As soon as you can react. You grab his cold wrist to push him back, almost falling on top of you.

Bucky’s laugh fills the whole room, getting comfier between your legs while your fingers get tangled in his long brown hair. Using the tip of his tongue, he licks your lips at the same time he crashes his pelvis against your needed core. You can’t hold a loud and pleased moan, closing your eyes and hearing another laugh coming from his mouth.

“Last chance, doll. Do you have something to tell me?” The soldier grunts onto your lips.

“Just… touch me, please”. You’re almost sobbing so anxiously, when Bucky starts to rock his hips between your legs, creating a very satisfying friction.

“No, doll... We’re gonna try something new”.

Your eyes widen in surprise, curiosity, and confusion, touring the length of his metallic arm until reaching the long fingers grabbing the mini-machete you gave him. You gasp uncontrollably, while his other hand snakes up your thigh to find your panties under the baggy shirt you’re wearing. One of the shirts you usually steal from his wardrobe. Bucky brings the blade to his teeth, holding it there to sit up and help you to strip. In less than a blink, you are completely exposed to his attentive and lustful blue eyes.

You spread your legs for him without the needing of being asked for, showing him in all its glory your warm cunt shining in your arousal. Bucky would give his life for digging his hard and twitching dick in your pussy right now, but he has another plan. One that you are going to enjoy anyway. Leaning over you with the machete now back to his hand, his left forefinger goes straight to your folds; wetting it with your sweet juices in a soft stroke.

“Open your mouth”. He demands with such a raspy tone of voice, bringing the handle of his knife to your lips.

You welcome it in silence, delighted, hornier than ever. Twelve inches of leather that you suck and lick pleasantly for him. You cover it with your saliva, swirling your tongue around it as he marks the rhythm inside your mouth. Meanwhile, his index finger helps you to calm your anxiety, giving enough attention to your swollen clit. You can’t think, you can’t moan, you can’t breathe. You two haven’t started and you feel already that you could cum in less than a sigh. Bucky sees it in your eyes, and he can’t hide a petty smile growing on his face. He loves to tease you.

“Have you been feeling like this all day, uh?”

Pulling away the handle from your mouth, he drags it over your skin, down by your collarbone and the small space between your breasts. Slowly, too damn slowly. You don’t know how he can control himself this good when you’re about to cry. You need him so much. All the time. But days like these… You need him twice as much.

“Yes…” You just mumble weakly as the wet handle reaches your abdomen continuing his path down.

“Tell me what you want”.

“Put it inside me, please…”

“Please, what, uh?”

“Please, sir”.

You can see your boyfriend breathing through his parted lips, catching his air at the moment he watches you whimper when the leather slightly touches your clit. You are so beautiful for him —legs opened, hard nipples and begging.

Placing his flesh arm under your waist to raise a little your ass, Bucky plays with the handle up and down your slit, making a pressure that causes you to grunt annoyed. He giggles inevitably, sliding it slowly into your wetness, and you can’t help but arch your back pleased when the knife starts to stretch your walls so torturously and deliciously. When his cool fingers touch you provoking you a soft chill, and you feel it’s completely inside you, Bucky moves back his hand with the same slow pace.

He’s driving you crazy. He knows it pretty well. He doesn’t enjoy anything more than the fact of having you under his control, under his power. Gripping his warm hand around your throat, he makes himself some space by your side on the sofa. Now, his lips can touch yours, drink your delighted sobs, look at your eyes from closer.

“Do you like it, baby doll?”

“Yes… Yes, sir… I li— like it, sir”. You utter with a broken thread of voice, nodding with your head briefly.

“I know. I can feel it. You think I don’t notice…” He whispers in a hum, sticking his forehead to yours, tightening the grip around your neck. “But the truth is… I do it on purpose. I always make sure you look at me. Anyone else, but at me”.

Oh, there it is. These insecurities he always hides masterfully, but the ones that claim your attention the whole time. Bucky needs you too. You were the first person who didn’t treat him like an assassin, nor like a monster. He lives to make you happy. He can’t think about the idea of losing you one day, just because he doesn’t give you enough. But he is. He is more than enough. And you prove him every single day since you met him.

“Please, sir… I wa— want more… faster”. You plea against his lips, placing your arms around his, softly swinging your hips at the rhythm of the knife he’s using to fuck you.

“You want it faster, uh?” He repeats playfully, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek at the end.

“Please…”

And Bucky pleases you. The move of his wrist makes the pace increase a little. The handle goes somewhat deeper, carefully to not hurt you. He twists it making you moan, stir, bite your tongue. Bucky is well-aware of what you like and how you like it. And he wants to make you cream his mini-machete to remember that day whenever he uses it in a mission, far away from you.

A wet, dirty noise starts to make an appearance when the thrusts into your soaked cunt are more constant, just like your satisfied vocals echo the room. Bucky spreads kisses all over your face, keeping his fingers around your neck to keep you close.

“God… you’re such a good girl taking my knife this good”. Your boyfriend can’t help but purr onto your ear, feeling how he could cum in his sweatpants just by looking at you so damn needy for him. “And I swear… it’s not gonna be the only one… I’m gonna make you fuck all my knives, doll”.

Just imagining it, you feel the tickles concentrating in your lower belly. You feel your juices spilling down your buttocks and staining the sofa. This man is going to be the death for you. But if you have to die… Is there any other better way?

“C'mon… do your magic…” He encourages you, getting closer to your lips.

Bucky doesn’t give you the chance to moan in a reply, tucking his tongue into your mouth to devour it. The pushes to your g-spot become eager, harder, and well-aimed; wanting at all cost to make you cum. And as soon as he feels your legs shivering, he goes faster. You can’t control it. The orgasm is growing inside you easily as a forest is set on fire with a match. Crying out with his tongue invading your cavity and dominating yours, you tangle a hand on his hair arching your back as you find a new position that gives you some more pleasure. But you can’t hold it anymore.

Bucky is stealing your air by gripping your throat tighter, kissing you so impatiently, and you can’t hold it anymore.

The soldier swallows the loud howl that borns in the deepest place of your soul, feeling the explosion inside your stomach as you jump inevitably into the abyss of heat. But he doesn’t stop. He continues rocking the knife inside you, wanting to hear you a little more. Wanting to hear his full name mixed with your delighted whining and your growls. It’s never enough for you, nor for him. And now you want him inside you.

“Please… Please…” You cry pushing his metallic hand away from you, making him toss the soaked knife with your juices to the floor. “Please, sir… Fuck me… I beg you… I need your dick”.

“'Course you need it, my little angel… You need it all the damn time, don’t you?” He doesn’t sound angry, but his voice is rougher than ever.

He’s upset because you have forced him to pull out his mini-machete, but soon Bucky forgets it when he is buried deep inside your cunt. His cunt. Only his.

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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one!

Read previous chapters here!

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee

It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave.

“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.”

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”

“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”

You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.

“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you.

You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh.

“Where are you?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

“Off fucking the boss man?”

“Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”

“Fucking slut.”

“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”

“This is ridiculous.’

“So you’re just running away?”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“You are so in for it when you get home.”

“I should have killed you.”

There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant.

“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.”

He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.

You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

“Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.

“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.

“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone.

“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.

“Hotch--”

“Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face.

“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”

“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked

“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”

“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Do I get a say in this at all?”

“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly.

“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted.

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.”

“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion.

“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”

Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall.

“Come in,” you called.

“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little.

“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.

“Hotch…” You responded softly.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.

“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”

“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head.

“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.”

“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.

“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.”

“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.

“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly.

“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.

“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered.

“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up.

“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.

“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded.

“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you.

“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.

“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke.

“Good point.” She chuckled.

“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her.

“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock.

“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU.

“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately.

“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.

“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.

“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him.

“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you.

“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh.

“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs.

“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”

Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.

There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes.

You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again.

“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out.

“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay. Your hand--”

“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen.

“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer.

“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head.

“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it.

“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles.

“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it.

“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you.

“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?”

“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?”

‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly.

“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Hotch, I’m--”

“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?”

“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.”

“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”

“If you’re not up to it, we can--”

“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.”

The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest.

“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”

“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist.

“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up.

“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle.

“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile.

“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.”

Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.

You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment.

“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly.

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk.

“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.

“Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually. At her pace, he reminded himself.

“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats.

“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile.

“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly.

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”

He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”

“Hotch, I’m---”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.”

You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you

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macnevercries · 3 years

Text

All I need is You (Tsukishima x Plus F! Reader)

Warnings- plus sized reader, size kink, established relationship, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, praise

Word count: ~1.5k

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You unlock the door, pushing open the heavy wood and walking into the entryway. Your new favorite thing was coming home from work and being greeted by your new husband in your shared home. The honey moon had been amazing but it’s just so peaceful in everyday life with Tsukishima.

“Kei, I’m home!” you shout down the hall, taking off your coat and hanging it up. A tall blonde head peaked out of a door, a smirk taking over his face as he sauntered over to you. Wrapping his slim arms around your center, enveloping you completely with his frame.

The difference in your guys’s size was laughable. Tsukishima was extremely tall with a lean and muscular build, you were quite a bit shorter than him and curvy. You were complete opposites but that didn’t make Tsukishima love you any less. He absolutely adored the way your body fit into his arms, so soft and comforting to hold. It was so easy to just be to be together, holding each other silently was the most calming thing.

You giggle as you pull out of his embrace, the hesitation in his hands at leaving your side obvious. You turn around to slip your shoes off, Tsukishima taking his place behind you and hugging you from behind, placing his chin on top of your head.

“Did you really miss me that much?” you laugh, your eyes crinkling with a smile and your round cheeks raising up. He grins at your display of joy.

“Yes.” He murmurs. Your breath catches in your chest. Despite knowing him for years, he always surprised you, his never-ending affection becoming an addiction. He chuckles at your reaction, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

He encircles your wrist in his slim fingers, dragging you into the kitchen and sitting you on a stool. He takes his place back where he was in the kitchen, his practiced hands washing and cutting vegetables with precision. His long arms reaching across entire countertops to turn on the rice and retrieve tools he left in the wrong places. Settling in front of stove and sautéing, he managed to make everything so graceful. He was, in words, perfect.

You silently slink out of your chair, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You bury your face in-between his shoulders, tracing up and down his sides. He shudders at your touch. He had always been sensitive to the way he could feel your emotions through your fingertips. Your hands travel downwards, hugging his hips and caressing his v-line that you loved so much.

“Don't start something that you can't finish” he growls, causing you to retract your fingers from the waistline of his pants. Your digits dance back up his torso, the light brushes tickling him. You stand on your tip toes, leaning into his neck.

“Oh, I can finish this.” you purr directly into his ear. Something inside Tsukishima snaps. He switches off the stove, whipping his body around and capturing you in his grasp at lightning speed. You squeal in excitement, amused by his obvious desperation to have his hands on your body. He digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, hoisting you onto his shoulder.

“Kei! Put me down” you shriek, laughing and squirming. You move enough for him to struggle carrying you but not enough for him drop you. He stalks into the bedroom, carefully tossing you on the bed. He cages you in place with his knees by each of your hips and his large palms firmly planted on either side of your head. He meets your eyes and your lust filled gaze seeps through him. He tears his eyes away, looking for shelter from your peering innocent eyes.

“Hey you stopped taking the pill last week right?” he asks, still avoiding eye contact. You laugh at his embarrassment, cupping his cheek and tilting his face to look at you. You smile gently, easing his nerves.

“Yeah I did. Are you sure this is what you want?” you question. You were ready to take the next step but you needed to confirm that Tsukishima was on the same page as you.

“I am so ready. I can't wait to pump you full.” he smirks.

His words send heat pooling between your legs, soaking through your thin panties. You pinch his flushed ears to distract yourself from your own embarrassment.

“Don't be a brat now, you started this.” he snaps, kissing harsh marks into the hollow of your neck, eliciting broken whines from you as his greedy hands grab whatever he can. He pulls you up, tearing off your shirt and skirt. You try to return the favor but apparently its to slow for him, he pushes your hands away, stripping himself. He unclasps your bra before laying you back down, flinging it across the room. He stays on his knees, gazing down at the way your are spread out so deliciously for him. Your cheeks are pink and flushed, chest heaving and tits bouncing slightly with your labored breathing.

“You are so beautiful” he breathes. You would laugh or brush off his compliment but adoration floods his eyes. You are lost in awe with his appreciation for you.

“You are so perfect, you're gonna look so good carrying my kids” he breathes his words into your neck, his cock painfully tight in his boxers. You mewl as he tugs your panties down. He plants kisses across your entire body, collar bones breasts, stomach, hips and ending his train with an open-mouthed kiss on your slit. Your hips jump up towards his face, need seeping out of every part of you.

Crawling back up to meet your face, he kisses you passionately, the taste of you mingling on his lips. You slide down his boxers, freeing his painful and weeping cock. The red tip is leaking a mouth-watering liquid, 3 prominent veins dancing along the underside of his length. You sit up, prepared to take it down your throat but he pushes you back down.

“Not today, all I need is you” he coos. He slides the head of his cock up and down your slit, mixing together your excitement. He makes sure to bump your clit just right with each slip, causing you to jolt. He likes himself up with your drooling entrance, pushing himself in inch by inch.

The lack of preparation makes the stretch burn, but it hurts deliciously. Tsukishima has never had a lot of girth, but his length is nothing short of jaw dropping. Still with a few inches to go, you push on his shoulders, whining at the feeling of being so full.

“ ‘S too much, you’re too big” you cry, the pretty head of his cock already pushing against your cervix.

“Shhh, you can take it, you’re doing so well for me” he hushes your cries, grabbing the underside of your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest. The mating press that he puts you into let’s him slip in the rest of the way, bottoming out inside of you.

He groans at the feeling of being fully enveloped by your velvety walls, twitching and compressing around his dick. He starts sliding in and out of you slowly, grinding his hips in with each thrust, grazing your clit.

“You like it when I breed your pretty pussy like that? Good girl” he moans his words when you clench around him, almost stopping his movement. He speeds up, desperate to see you crying his name, a mess below him.

Your heavy breasts bounce with every thrust, his slender fingers digging into your plush thighs, sure to leave bruises that will last for weeks. Your wails and sobs of pleasure spur him on, making him go quicker which you hadn’t thought was possible. His hips jackhammer to meet yours, bringing you towards a burning white bliss.

The coil inside of you snaps, leaving you uncontrollably shaking, broken sobs leaving your swollen lips. He chases your high, spilling himself inside of you and slowing down but not stopping. He fucks his cum inside of you, making sure it gets deep inside so it will stay. He slips his softening cock out of your twitching cunt, giving you a kiss before getting up to get a warm towel.

He comes back to the room, wiping the sweat off of your body and dressing you in one of his clean t-shirts that dwarfs your body and new underwear. He props your legs up on a pillow, kissing your forehead softly.

“You’re gonna look so good waddling around the house for me, such a good wife” He cuddles up beside you, his limbs wrap around you like a blanket. Nothing makes you happier than coming home to your husband in your new shared home, especially when it ends like this.

#tsukishima x y/n #hq tsukishima #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #x reader #hq x you #hq smut #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukki x reader

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babykatsu · 4 years

Text

PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

WORDCOUNT: 7k

RATING: nsfw ⛈

GENRE: smut!

WARNINGS: slow burn, swearing, kissing, no intercourse, foreplay, car sex, little bit of degradation, a littleeee rough!

⤷ SYNOPSIS:

as though fate had its worst intentions, bakugous car had broken down on the way to your high school reunion with you in the car as well. GREAT! Not only was it getting dark and chilly, you were also in the middle of nowhere... That really didn’t ease the atmosphere, especially when Bakugou was already hesitant on lending you a drive to the reunion. But with the discomfort, there always comes a way to ease it ;)

AUTHORS NOTE:

a special thanks to @laylahoran for not only helping me proof read and pick out the title for this scenario BUT also for just being there to support me through out this whole thing! Literally the purest friend🥺🥺💕💕 ilysmmm!!!

Also, this is my first detailed smut imagine so sorry if it’s a bit sloppy :(

Life after high school proved to be a lot more different than expected. For starters, after having moved to find better work opportunities in the city, you found yourself deprived of nearly all social interaction with your previous friends. Yes, you still caught up over text and call, but it was safe to say it was not quite the same. Not only did the hectic schedule of working for a hero agency clash with your friends’, when you were on your days off all your friends seemed to be busy with their own goals of becoming high ranking heroes. You sort of started living a more solitary lifestyle, a drastic change from your previous one.

So when you flopped down on your couch, your body sluggish and desperate for sleep after a bustling day of work, you felt suddenly energised. Eyes wide as you could just barely believe what you were reading. An email had illuminated on your phone screen, reading the following:

“Greetings class A! It has been nearly a year since we have all graduated and I’m in complete aw as to how far you have all come :) On a more dejected note, however, we have all seemed to grow more distant due to our work. I have missed you all dearly and believe the connections we all formed are amazing experiences we should not forget about! Though we may have kept in contact here and there, it’s evident that we all have been lacking. This is why I have taken it upon myself to set up a reunion party! More information is soon to be delivered in the next email, and I’m super excited to hear from you all. Arrangements with your agencies will take place as soon as confirmations come through. You’re previous classmate, Tenya Iida”

As though your prayers had been answered, you were greeted with that email. Now, this was an offer you couldn’t pass up! Without hesitation, your fingers started typing away at your phone, the pads of your fingers darting across the glass as though they had a mind of their own. You were determined to go, excitement flooding your sense at just the thought of the whole event! As your eager fingers hit send on the email a sudden thought crossed your mind.

Shit...

You hadn’t thought about it previously, mind racing and occupied with the general idea of a reunion, how were you going to get to the location of the party?

As said previously, life was not as expected after graduating, and though heroes lived a life with above-average pay, bathing in luxuries at times, it all took years of experience. No way could you have reached such a high status having worked for less than a year in this field. With the lack of money to your name, there were no chances of you owning a car at this very moment in time. Maybe public transport was a good option? But the delays, need for time arrangements and the entire coordination of your journey was already giving you a headache. The travel aspect was less than fruitful.

But you were going to get there one way or another.

Taking in a deep breath, you gently pressed the off button on your device, sinking your body further into the couch as you allowed your body to finally relax. Your mind pondered of all the different options, from uber’s and cabs to all the different forms of public transport available. But as your unresting thoughts echoed around in your head, you finally concluded. A conclusion that churned your stomach, a fluttery feeling pricking the goosebumps along your chilled skin.

You could ask Bakugou for a lift.

Though this plan seemed faulty, a high chance he would decline the offer to attend the reunion filled with “extras”, you still had your hopes up high.

Out of all the people who could have moved to the same part of town as you, Bakugou was the one. It was pure coincidence that you both had ended up not too far from each other, a block away in fact. Though throughout all three years that you attended u.a you had barely spoken to him. You had your exchange in words here and there, the occasional insult would be thrown your way, but oddly enough out of all people in the class, you received his harsh treatment the least. You just figured, he barley knew you so acknowledging your existence was a waste of his time. Yet his subtle acts of warmth towards you didn’t go unnoticed by your subconscious, a strange feeling invading your body. You developed feelings for the boy.

Shockingly, you found yourself attracted to him, even with the lack of a solid foundation for a proper friendship. You didn’t know what exactly enticed you so much, maybe it was his toned chiselled frame or perhaps his confident exterior. Whatever it was, it had your heart thumping faster at every glance you two shared, and the thoughts that lingered with these unexplainable emotions were even more hectic. It was as though every second you spent alone, confined by the four white walls of your room, you lay wondering of all you wanted him to do to you. A peak of curiosity soon turned into a full-fledged lust for him. The moment you batted your eyelids shut, you’d picture his muscular body towering yours, his hands pinning you down as he’d shamelessly make you a mess under his touch. A thought of him could make your entire body explode. It was all far too complicated for you to process.

That’s why when you moved to a new part of the city, in hopes to start work as well rid yourself of your weird infatuation, you went pale at the sight of him only a couple streets away from where you newly lived. You tried to convince yourself this was indeed a one-time occurrence, yet you’d see him again and again... and again. He most certainly lived near you, it was undeniably true.

Every time you’d return from work, shoes hitting the concrete sidewalk with an echoing tap, you’d always pass him. At first, you shared no words, not a single exchange between you two until one day he randomly spoke up. You remember that moment like the back of your hand, as though it happened just a few minutes ago. Admittedly, the conversation was nothing spectacular, but it still caused a rapid shock to strike through you as the memory of you exchanging numbers with him lurked your brain. The whole event was so bizarre and it still seems unreal now.

Snapping from your daydream, you came to a solid answer. This was probably the best time to put his number to good use. Unlike you, he had a car and could most likely drive you to where ever this reunion will take place... That’s if he decides he is going to attend as well. That’s where your plan seems to not be so successful.

Yet, you had no other choice. He was your best shot at finally getting a break from this borderline isolation.

Nervously, you picked your phone up once more, gently scrolling through your contacts until a familiar name was visible: ‘Katsuki Bakugou’. A nervous feeling burnt at the pit of your stomach as you anxiously went to type out a message. Your shaky fingers tapped the keyboard, with every additional letter that was added to your sentence, your heartbeat sped up even faster until you felt it pound against your ears. Who knew you could feel so nervous about a generic message... It was Bakugou you were texting after all. Not only was he known for being an uncontrollable hothead, but he was also the guy you often fantasied about. You were more than flustered by this point.

Finally, after rereading your message frantically over and over again, you hit send. You felt your heart quickly sink before a chill ran through your entire body. Now you play the waiting game...

On the other end of the line sat a pouting Bakugou. Just like you, he had received the same email, his face crinkled into a frown as he read the disgusting email present on his screen. Like he’d show up to watch a bunch of extras overly excited for no reason. The entire thought of a reunion made his blood boil. At the same time, however, he wouldn’t mind seeing a few faces.

Sure he hated the class, but there was no denying he missed the ‘old days’. He rolled his eyes and let out a huff, in complete annoyance at how soft he’d become. Was he really contemplating going to that shitty reunion? Apparently so, as he decided to type up a quick response to Iida's invite.

A thought he had tried awfully hard to suppress soon made its way to the surface. It was you. Out of all the people he’d want to meet at the reunion, it had to be you. Though he didn’t necessarily have to be at the reunion to view you.

Similarly, he found himself drawn to you for some obscure reason. All throughout high school up until now. During school, he would always gawk at the way your skirt swayed side to side as you walked or even the way you leaned against the desk arching your back most perfectly. It had Bakugous eyes adhered to you. He just wanted to run his hands across your entire body, his lips bequeathing marks on every soft sweet spot on your skin. You’d be his, the deep hickeys that scattered your delicious skin marking his territory. Never had he felt so sexually frustrated, desiring a person so bad it was making him lose his mind. He had better things to worry about, like brining the number 1 hero for starters, but no matter how much he tried denying his deepest desires they just wouldn’t leave.

He tried so hard, he even moved just to get away from you. Of course, that didn’t work, when he saw you strutting down the sidewalk, your clothes hugging all your curves in a way that made his mouth water. He wanted you, and he wanted you bad!

And Bakugou gets, what Bakugou wants.

Just as that memory swirled his mind, a ping came from his phone, the gentle vibration of the device in his palm breaking him from his fantasy. His vermillion eyes went wide as he glanced down at the notification that had just gone off. The name he wanted to see most displayed.

‘Hey! It’s [name], hope I’m not being a bother :) I’m sure you also received the email about the reunion party, I hope to see you there. That’s if I can get there... Maybe you could give me a lift? Don’t worry if you don’t want to, I understand!’

Bakugou bit his bottom lip as he squinted down at the information in front of him. As much as he wanted to agree, his pride didn’t permit him an agreement to your proposal so easily. Rather than cooperating the way he wanted to, he typed out a message juxtaposing his real desire.

And there started your exchange in messages, the back and forth and your “convincing” to give you ride. Though we all know Bakugou was going to give in to it either way.

Weeks had passed since then, the texts that followed after between you two was kept to an evident minimum. The only exchange included a catch up on your plans for the reunion and that was about it. You were more anxious by the day, knowing the reunion date was coming closer to existence.

Next thing you knew, the day had arrived.

You were seated in the passenger seat of Bakugous car. Nervously, you shifted in the leather seat, hand resting on the inner door handle as your eyes followed the passing trees that came in and out of view.

The sky was faintly clouded, a ray of golden sun piercing through parted clouds, dripping a soft sunset hue over the ivy leaves of the trees. You sat inside the car, yet you remembered the faint chilly winds that caressed your skin. Overall, the weather was decent, far from perfect but not awful either.

The tranquillity that filled the car was apparent, the most noise that was present was the hushed sound of the radio playing, the music placid. It only intensified the awkward silence that was held between you both.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you spoke up in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “well, aren’t you the conversationalist” you spoke sarcastically, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Though you spoke suddenly, Bakugou didn’t seem to divert his focus from the road. His face stayed in its usual state, not even a smirk dared to spread across his lips. Clearly, your playfulness was not reciprocated. The silence engulfed you both for a while longer before he finally responded. His reply was less than adequate, a simple hum.

You shifted your attention back onto the view outside, watching as the car drives deeper and deeper into some sort of forest. The trees grew larger, the suns light being swallowed by the towering greenery above. Cars began passing more infrequently until you had not seen one in ages on the road that had become more narrow.

It felt like you had been in this car for an unbearably long amount of time. You couldn’t tell if time was just moving slower than usual at how bored you were at this very moment in time or if your destination was farther than you expected.

Pulling your phone from your bag that rested atop your lap, you checked the time.

‘6:23 pm’

It was confirmed that time was just moving awfully slower than usual. You had only been in the car for a little under 15 minutes. There was still a fair amount of time left until the party started, so there were no worries on being late though you still had quite a few kilometres to cover. Relieved, you placed your phone back into your bag. You slowly let your eyes rest shut, hoping a quick nap would pass time more sufficiently.

And as you had just calmed your nerves enough to sleep, your body suddenly jolted forward. Your seatbelt immediately binding around your chest, pressing your body flush against the seat as you braced the impact of the sudden stop of the car.

“For fuck sake” Bakugou finally spoke up as he kissed his teeth, gripping the steering wheel remarkably tight that his knuckles were becoming white.

“what just happened?”. Out of curiosity, you questioned the man, his face now looking more annoyed than ever. His hand fiddled with the car keys, the engine roaring repeatedly as he tried turning the car on. “What does it fucking look like, dumbass?” he barked at you, still frantically trying to turn the car on. It didn’t help that he had now started slamming the steering wheel between each attempt.

“Are you out of gas?” You spoke up innocently. There was no denying you were now, in fact, feeling less hopeful that you had enough time to make it to the reunion.

For the first time, he finally made eye contact with you. His rose eyes staring at you in frustration, in complete disbelief at how oblivious you were.

“Of course not! You fucking moron, the shitty car just broke down” He barked at you before flinging the car door wide open, slamming it with a harsh bang as he made his dramatic exit.

You watched him pace up and down with distinct stomps, muttering something under his breath while typing away at his phone. Taking the hint, you exit the vehicle as well. “So, what now?” you irritate him further with your persistent queries.

“How the fuck is there no service? HOW AM I MEANT TO GET THIS SHIT FIXED?” his yells echoed through the vast scenery that surrounded you.

With him stressing, you couldn’t help but taste your mouth go dry as panic began settling in as well. It was no use having the two of you in a frenzy. Rationally, you walked over to Bakugou, your phone gripped in your hand as you formed the only logical suggestion. “Try my phone”

He didn’t even question or ridicule your suggestion like he probably desired to, instead yanking the phone out of your hand and attempting to dial-up a number. It didn’t take long until his eyes rolled back in failure and his jaw flexed with gritted teeth. No luck there either clearly.

“Guess we aren’t going to the shitty reunion. You're fucking welcome!” He yells once more, slapping the phone back into your palm. The worst somehow ended up playing out, complete defeat washing over your body.

Resting against the car, you dropped your bottom lip into a slight pout, the chilly air growing cooler.

You were in the middle of nowhere, the only form of transport for miles was now down and to top it off you were getting cold. Your body rapidly began to shiver, goosebumps pricking along your exposed skin.

“Aren’t you fucking smart” Bakugou scoffed as he stared at you, arms crossed over his broad chest. “didn’t even bring a jacket while wearing some stupid dress”

Rather than yelling like he had been doing for the last couple minutes, he was calming his nerves by teasing you. It may have been the adrenaline that made him feel so open to being more playful, or maybe he attempted to distract himself from how much of a loser he currently felt with a broken car. Whatever it was, he was now smirking at the girl in front of him, tantalising her about the cold.

“I didn’t know I’d be stuck outside, did I?” You teased back, rolling your eyes at him. The fact he was being so calm on the outside was making you feel less worried, yet more nervous at his sudden change in mood than anything.

His eyes stared you up and down, analysing your shivering state as the wind began picking up. Another sigh left his parted lips before resuming to speak. "Go sit inside the car. No use shivering like a dumbass if you can't handle a bit of wind" he chuckled slightly as he spoke, as though to assure you his comment was in fact not as rude as he intended it to come out.

Though you obeyed, taking careful steps around the car to sit back in it, you decided to throw your own snarky remark his way. "Not one to talk when you're wearing a jacket". You give him a 'look', before fully submerging yourself in the cars shielded warmth. It may have broken down not too long ago, but it was still well heated. An instant chill rolled down your spine as your body quickly adjusted to the sudden change in temperature.

"Sorry, princess. Didn't realise I had royalty as company". That devious smirk sprawled itself across his tanned face as he followed your move, getting in the car himself. Something about the way he addressed you made you quiver, the innocent word was also oh so seductive. That sudden feeling of arousal pent up inside you, fogging your thinking.

"I- don't get too cocky now". Your reply came out as a jittery stutter, senses overwhelmed by his playful tone that had you heated. Senses scattered, too flustered by his seemingly unintentional words. It's not like he knew about your fantasies of him or how your sinful thoughts begged for him to call you such names. And now as you were in the midst of it all, you couldn't help but lose yourself.

He let out another husky laugh. The way you broke apart at the simplest words only stroked his ego. No denying he purposely chose those specific words to see how you'd react, and to his surprise, it went far better than expected. "Here, have my jacket then if you wanna keep yapping about it"

Speechless, your vision was once again fixated on him. Gawking at the leather jacket that slipped of his physique, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You swallowed the nervous lump in your thought down, butterflies invading your system as you watched.

You expected him to carelessly throw the jacket your way, alternatively he leaned over. His significantly larger body mounted over yours as he placed his jacket over your exposed legs, instant warmth tickling your chilled skin. His hands felt so smooth as they lightly brushed against your thigh, the accidental touch shooting straight to your core. It was humiliating at how quickly you discomposed around him, cheeks red and breath hitched. You just couldn't help it, a presence like his was way too intense. Especially, at this moment.

"U-um, so what are we going to do now?" you try to change topics as you felt your current heated state become far too overwhelming, whole-body hot as your thoughts began drifting to all the wrong places.

He peeped his eyes, as though deep in thought."Wait until someone hopefully passes, I guess?". The uncertainty in his tone had you feeling concerned again. The worry bombarding you, diverting your inner emotions elsewhere. You've wanted to meet your classmates so vigorously for ages, all fired up for weeks as you obsessively counting down the days, only for this to happen. Not a single car had been in view for ages, god knows until the next one would come. That's also assuming that the car would even stop for you two. This was so disappointing, a hollow feeling in your chest as you sulked.

"I guess? For god sake, we aren't even going get to the reunion in time!"

Bakugou had noticed your sudden change in mood. In all honesty, he didn't quite understand why you wanted to see those annoying dickheads anyway, but he felt strangely sympathetic towards you. "Oi, I'm fucking sorry. I'll drive you to see your friends another time".

"What if there isn't another time?" you mope at him, facing your body towards him. He doesn't reply right away, mirroring your actions instead to examine your current behaviour. There was no way he could make this situation better unless the car magically fixed itself. Which to be fair, would never happen. As his eyes scanned you, he noticed the way you were still shivering, the once heated car losing its warmth. It was his best shot at diverting the conversation.

"You're still shivering, dumbass". His red orbs were fixed on you as he reached out his arms towards you. They felt considerably warmer than you as they rested on your shoulders. You followed his gaze that watched his own hands as they rubbed you up and down carefully. The slight friction between his hands and your skin bringing you some heat. It only sunk in then that his large hands were tracing your arms, his warmth transferring to you. Flusters took over your sense again. As much as you wanted to speak up right now, you knew you'd only choke up on your words, far worse than your stutters. As your stomach swirled, you felt ardour rush to your face. A rose haze coated your skin, eyeing the way Bakugou rubbed his hands against you.

"Looks like you've warmed up, that's for sure" he grinned at you, noticing the way your chest began rising and falling, heartbeat thumping rapidly. The way your face flushed scarlet as your eyes danced around your atmosphere, all at his touch. He noticed it all. And boy was it rubbing his ego.

"I-uh, yeah. I mean- no?". Your words came out jumbled, unable to form proper sentences when his ruby eyes finally gazed up at you. The mysterious glint in them made you feel overwhelmed, unaware of what move he would make next.

"So you need to be warmed up a bit more, huh?". His hands swiftly grazed your arms, just about hovering over your soft skin. Careful touches traced it, your words departing from your brain. The entirety of your focus was on the way Bakugou's fingertips tickled you delicately, the electric feeling flowing throw you. "Speak up for me. Do you still need to be warmed?". He snapped you back into reality without warning, only to put you in a trance again. The way he spoke with such dominance, demanding for you to speak, only stirred your imagination further. You had pictured moments like these so many times, him ordering you to do as he says. And as these thoughts rushed to the surface, you started to feel heat build between your thighs.

"Yeah, sorry!". Frantically, you attempt to respond, a nervous giggle followed your sentence as it came out of your mouth. "If that's what you want, princess". He emphasised the nickname, his lips curling into a sneer as his hands began to wander. The soothing touch travelled upwards, his hands gliding over your skin, one resting on your warmed rosy cheek. His sudden action had your breath hitching. You'd portray such touches numerous times yet nothing could have appointed you for this moment as your nerves fell apart.

As you tried to ration the situation out in your mind, his eyes finally locked with yours. The intimate stare had you holding your breath. Gently, he massaged his thumb against your cheek as he slowly moved his hand to the back of your neck, chills dripping down your spine. His eyes flickered between your eyes and mouth, hinting at a kiss. Was he going to kiss you? You must have been dreaming or something. But it was all happening, right now. There was no time to contemplate the event at hand. His face was edging closer to yours only inches apart, his proximity to you titillating. As you waited for his lips to finally come in contact with yours, you began losing patience. It's like he purposely was a millimetre away from your lip just to taunt you. You took in one more breath, easing your nerves before crashing your lips against his.

Your initial cold shivers were a way for Bakugou to change the subject from his broken car, and it all had worked out in his favour. Admittedly, this was not the outcome he was intending for, but he was not complaining either. He was finally able to seel a kiss with a girl that had invaded his thoughts for years. A dream come true if you will.

His tender lips felt so soft against yours, the sweet caramel taste engulfing your senses as they oozed from his lips. The once overwhelming anxiousness that had you falling apart beneath his touch was now easing as you melted into the passionate exchange between the two of you. Bakugou's lips moved in sync with yours, sucking and tugging at your bottom lip hungrily, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His pearly whites sunk into your bottom lip, giving them a smooth tug before sliding his warm tongue in. As he did so, his hand explored your body, slowly descending down the side of your torso, gripping you tightly. His other hand, that had itself placed at the back of your neck, suddenly wrapped around your throat. A rough squeeze was given, encouraging a gasp to erupt from your voicebox. His unforeseen move made you feel sensitive, clenching your thighs together to relieve the desperate ache between your legs. The warm wet muscle that had slipped inside your mouth earlier adventured in your mouth, swirling around your tongue and trailing every inch. It all felt so unreal.

Suddenly, Bakugou pulled away with a string of saliva connecting you both. His hands were still firm on wherever they were on your body. Through parted lips, he panted as his gaze darted. "Fuck, looks like you got me warm as well now". His signature smirk was back, his hand that held you by the neck pulling your face closer to his. Vermillion eyes analysed you, watching the way your face was flushed, lips were wet and lipstick was smudged. Realising he probably had some red on his lips as well from your makeup, he brought one hand to his face, wiping his plump lips with the back of his hand. The image before you only made you wetter, thighs already tightly clutched. And as though he could read your mind, he brought that same hand down to your thigh with a slap. The impact of his hands against you instantly shot to your soaking core, though the actions didn't hurt you much. You felt a tingling sensation to dance across your skin. Rubbing the impacted area, Bakugou continued to look at you, his eyes occasionally diverting to were he was soothing your thigh. His hands began needing your thigh higher and higher until his fingers dipped into the gap where your two thighs made contact. Teasingly, he drove one thigh from another to part them. "And you're definitely warmed up now, baby". His words insinuating how flustered you were.

He brought his lips back to yours as he worked his fingertips up your leg. His touch was so close and you felt so sensitive, you couldn't help but let out a shaky moan into the kiss. You wanted him so bad, craving to feel every inch of him against you. Your hands eager, you brought them up to his shirt. Clenching your hands around the piece of fabric, you tugged him closer to you, the distance between you two unbearable as you sat in separate seats. Your actions brought him to a sudden pause, causing him to pull away. "Are you that desperate for me?". His seductive tone made your face heat up and even more aroused. By now, you sure as hell knew your cunt was drenched. "You want me so fucking bad, don't you?". His hand was back in motion, fingertips almost touching you through your underwear. All you could do was moan in response as you craved his touch. "I can't fucking hear you". He taunted you once again, before his fingertips finally stroked your wet panties, massaging your folds through the cotton. You felt your breath tremble as he applied gentle pressure.

"Y-yes, I've wanted you so bad for a long time". Voice unsteady, you could just barely articulate. You felt the way his fingers caressed you through your underwear, index finger circling your clit so that the fabric would trigger your sensitive bud. Another moan emerged out your lips as you took in a profound breath. "I can tell. Your fucking soaking and it's all for me, babygirl". His cool breath trickled down your ear as he murmured against it.

You couldn't bear it anymore, the distance practically eating away at your patience as sexual frustration overflowed your senses. His fingers continued to shower you in affection but it was no longer enough. You needed more. "Please, Bakugou. I-I want you so bad right now". Hitched breaths and shallow moans rolled off of your tongue as you spoke, Bakugou's eyes sinful as he observed you.

"You'll have to be more specific than that". The same mockeries filled your ears, craving to see you flush as you spoke of all your desires, embarrassed by their explicit nature. As he awaited your response, he slowed his movements down, only teasing you further as it stript you off the pleasure you so desperately yearned for. "Shit, I want to feel you. I want to be closer- please".

The words dripped from your mouth as though it was second nature, the thirst for him more than unambiguous by your needy state. With that, his hands left your core, the cool air surrounding you as his warmth departed. You watched him carefully with longing eyes. The way his cherry centres locked on you as his grip came to your waist. His firm hands grabbed hold of you as he granted your wishes, placing you on his lap.

You sat on top of him, his toned legs holding you up and his hands pursued your body. The way your thighs rested atop his, your sensitive core throbbing against his hardening cock and the way his palms massaged your curves felt all so surreal. Subconsciously grinding against him, you felt his cock brush up against your folds, and with every stroke of your hips, the friction was shooting an electric buzz through you. "Didn't know you were such a needy slut for me". He purred at you with that deriding look in his eyes, smirking smugly. All you did was hum in return to his taunts.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you lingered your fingertips along his neckline, gradually pulling his face in for another kiss. Devouring each other's lips once again, Bakugous hands slipped beneath your dress, lifting it to loosely drape around your waist. Your legs fully displayed, the frigid air hurried to leave goosebumps along your skin. Resuming his excursion, his fingers wandered back to where they seized you previously. As he leaned into the makeout, he rested your back against the steering wheel before tearing away from your mouth. Keen set of eyes watching you."Tell me exactly where you want my hands to go, baby. Your lucky I'm willing to take directions". For a moment you realised the exception he was making.

Bakugou was known for listening to no one but himself. So the fact he considered something like this, even if it was during an odd time, spoke volumes. It only stabilised, if not boosted, the feeling that you harboured for Bakugou. Yet there was no time to ponder over his actions. You hesitated to respond at first, slightly embarrassed to provide him with an answer.

"I want you to touch me". You deeply flushed at your reply but Bakugou only squinted at you. "Babygirl, your such a needy bitch but won't even get into specifics. Come on, you can be open with me". His words only strengthened the blush that overlaid your skin to deepen, if that was even possible. Even in your profoundly flustered disposition, you needed him and retaining your mouth shut was not an option.

"Bakugou, you know what I mean. Here". You childishly whine before grabbing hold of his hand, guiding it to your heat. His firm hand was resting on your bound cunt, not making a single move but rather looking at you intently. "Good enough" was his only response.

Swiftly, his slender fingers submerged under the fabric of your underwear, coming in contact with your wetness. The suddenness of his actions provoked a gasp to emit from your mouth, his fingers already exploring you. The feeling of his warmth travelling tenderly up and down your folds, with the occasional attentiveness to your clit made you squirm as you sucked deep breaths in. Your chest came up and down as air raced to pervade you, your moans getting gradually louder as you rubbed and arched against his touch. His attentive touch began centring more on your delicate bud, picking up his pace as he soaked in the sight of you falling apart atop him. Your heavy breaths and moans that filled the air and the way you desperately moved against every circular motion of his finger. Fuck was the sight something he had dreamt of for so long, and it was far better than he imagined. "You fucking like that huh?" he uttered through gritted teeth as his face crept closer to yours, observing the way you tightly squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropped open.

"Shit, yes. Just like that" your breathy response came out as just above a whisper, too caught up in the pleasure of his touch. And just when you thought it couldn't feel any better, you felt his two fingers slip inside you. Your warm pink walls instantly sucking his fingers in, frantically tightening against them. A lusty moan shot out of your mouth, the overwhelming feeling of him fully submerged within you, pumping in and out. His fingers curled to hit just the right spot before you could fully adjust. The sensation was all too much and you felt the desire consume you. Panting and moaning, you could barely make sense of your surroundings as he didn't hesitate to advance his movements by pumping harder and faster, your wetness trickling down his bronzed palm.

His pace only intensified, his fingers gliding in and out of you, rubbing against your contracting walls that made your stomach burn. Burn in a way that made you almost lose control as it tied knots in your abdomen. Every spot that made your body arch against its will, legs jutting and twitching, he hit it all. And just as you edged nearer to your orgasm, moans building up at the back of your throat, ready for release as your nails dug into Bakugou's forearms. He came to a sudden pause, retreating his fingers, now soaked in your juices. You felt the dissatisfaction of his lack of attention, yearning to be touched again. Thick pants filled the car as Bakugou smirked at you and at the way you couldn't help but grind against him to supply for his loss of attention towards you.

"Princess, you didn't really think you'd get it that easy" he spoke tauntingly, rubbing your thighs as he trailed kisses on your collar bone. He'd wanted to mark up your delicate skin so many times, his presence forever embedded on you. Sinking his teeth on your flesh, he sucked and licked it, earning a soft moan from you against his ear. The tickling sensation of your breath against him accompanied by your lewd noises only hardened his growing erection. The restricting tightness of his trousers becoming infuriating for the boy.

He left mark after mark, immersing in the way you rubbed and groaned into him. "Bakugou... I need you. All of you.". Your words were like music to his ears, a combination of sounds he'd wanted to hear for so long. You begging for him to please you, make you his. It didn't even take him a second thought to know what he wanted to do to you, almost agreeing instantly. "Show me how bad you need me then". The challenging statement made you feel more heated, already in complete aw at the way his lips marked your skin.

You gently pushed him off you, pressing his back into the black leather seat, planting a delicate kiss on his lips before ducking between his legs. The position was cramped, the compact space of being under the steering wheel, legs crossed as you shifted your body further back until you could feel the disengaged pedal of the vehicle.

Bakugou sat with eager eyes on you, waiting for what you'd do next. To be honest, he felt uncomfortable at his lack of control at this very moment, already plotting how he'd regain it once more once he caught onto what your plan was. "Is this your way of proving yourself" he snickered at you, your hands on his belt, the clinking of the metal drowning out his voice. Through the material of his trousers, you could see the outline of his bulge, tight around the fabric restraints.

And just as you went to undo the restraints, unravelling the package that was contained, your head had hit the soft padding of the steering wheel. The sudden beep of the car horn went off, alarming the two of you. "What the fuck," Bakugou spoke up first in confusion. The car had obviously broken down only a few minutes ago yet it had finally decided to cooperate and disturb your guys' self-indulgence.

"Perfect timing" You giggled as you let your hands fall from his belt, slightly disappointed by the interruption. You wanted to continue this fantasy, see where it would take you both but you had other priorities on your mind as well. Like getting to the reunion for starters."Don't look so distressed, baby" Bakugou spoke softly as he lifted your chin, admiring you and the marks he left all over. "We will finish what we started, after all, I've been wanting this for so fucking long" He admitted and you couldn't help but redden at his remark.

You delicately slipped from under the wheel, dragging your dress down to cover your flashed skin. "I'll be looking forward to that then" You fire your own flirt his way, tipping over to leave a gentle peck against his lips before cleaning your lipstick from his face. He responded with a scoff and a rolling of his eyes, diverting his attention to the road to start driving again.

"I would say cover up the hickeys, but I want all those damn extra's to know who you belong to now" He smirked giving you the side-eye. Only then did you notice your wrecked state, desperately trying to fix your appearance in the small overhead mirror.

Bakugou steadily drove to your destination as his large hand rested on your thigh, you both wondering where you'd finish this excursion...

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typewriting101 · 3 years

Text

it’ll be okay.

pairings: draco malfoy x reader

warnings: sad & fluff

word count: 1.5k+

genre: fanfic romance

⟶ summary: reader isolates herself after getting cheated on by her long time boyfriend, and draco comes to her aid

a/n: i got cheated on by my long time boyfriend twice and i definitely needed a draco in my life. writing is a way i heal so i hope if you’re in the same spot this helps.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You decided not to go to your classes today, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You already felt humiliated enough, you didn’t need to increase that on your own will. You had Hermione tell all your professors that you were ‘sick’, but only she knew what was actually going on.

Your longtime boyfriend cheated on you, and your heart was in complete despair. You didn’t get out of bed at all yet today, and it was past lunchtime. You brushed your messy hair out of your eyes that were flooded with your never ending tears. As you brought the duvet covers up to your face, you turned your back to the door, watching the birds fly outside, and you could even make out the Quidditch pitch in the distance.

You heard the door slowly creek open and it quietly closed behind the person entering. “Mione, please. Don’t force me to leave today...please.” Your voice was filled with cracks and sobs, you couldn’t even contain yourself for a regular conversation.

Immediately, was a rushing of a cloak and someone knelt beside your bed and you felt an arm on top of you and another under you, wrapping you into a hug. It struck you, you knew who it was. You burst into tears and felt his head dip into the crook of your neck, his blonde hair coming into your vision, which confirmed your accusation.

Draco Malfoy.

Eventually, you turned to him and his eyes filled with worry at your state. You knew you looked nothing like yourself, and he’d never seen you cry. You always hid the sad parts of you from Draco, he had his own struggles, and you never wanted to burden him with even more.

Sniffling, you slowly sat up, and he quickly sat on your bed to face you. He was never good at emotions but when it came to you, Draco tried harder than ever to express them.

One good look at you now, he knew you were shattered, a fraction of who you used to be, and he hated it. You couldn’t even look at him, your face was red from crying, your cheeks tear stained, and you were hugging yourself as if you wanted to disappear from him, which he would never let happen.

He couldn’t stand seeing you in disarray, he never had before and he wished he didn’t. He grabbed your trembling figure, his hands on your head and back, as you leaned into him, you clung to his arm as if your life depended on it.

“Let it out.” He whispered into you, feeling his warm breath and the vibrations from his voice from the closeness. He knew you would need a push.

His heart shattered when he heard the sound you made. It was the sound of a broken soul, something he never wanted you to feel. He thought he could save you from everything, but life doesn’t give what you demand. He knew that now.

You didn’t realize the cry you made was even a sound you could produce. It was then you truly realize how destroyed you were, how hurt,

How broken.

As you cried into Draco’s arms, he began rubbing circles into your back, rocking you back and forth slightly. He didn’t shush you, he didn’t tell you to stop, and he didn’t even try to talk over your cries. He did not tell you it was okay,

Because this is not okay. None of it is.

He let you be the first to speak, after a long time of tears. “You know?”

His heart dropped into his stomach hearing your voice, it sounded so lost. “Yeah… I do, y/n.”

“How?” You sniffed, head still on his body.

“She told me you were sick, but I didn’t believe it. So, I interrogated your Granger friend, I found her alone in the library.”

He felt you smile for a quick moment. “You’re mean.”

“I know.” He boasted, proudly.

He grabbed you and laid you down, then took off his shoes to get under your covers. “Since school is in session for a few more hours, nobody else will be in here, so I’m staying. If you like it or not, I don't care, I don't want you alone feeling like this.”

You didn’t care, you actually wanted him there, you suspected he knew that, you know he has trouble expressing his feelings. He pulled the covers over the two of you.

“Speaking of mean…” he turned on his side to face you. “Y/n, I wanna hurt this guy. I wanna hurt him so freaking bad for what he did to you, say the word and I will.”

“Nothing you could do would ever even out to my pain, it doesn’t matter.” You whispered, looking away from him. “I just learned the hard way is all.”

“Leard what?” He asked, as he watched you stared endlessly at the ceiling. He saw you opened your mouth a few times, but nothing came out. He saw tears roll down your cheeks, and Draco turned you towards him.

You watched as he sat up on his elbow to wipe your tears. The angle was so beautiful, watching his eyes bore into yours, his blonde hair flowing from his head looking down on you.

“Learned what y/n?” He said again.

“That I don’t deserve to be loved.”

You let more tears fall with a sob and went to turn around, but Draco’s hand grabbed your shoulder flipping you back towards him, causing you to gasp at the harsh movement.

You felt his hand go to your waist gently, and he pulled you into him. You burst into tears yet again, they were uncontrollable at this point, and he knew.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Draco demanded, as he let you cry. “You deserve more than what that bloody git ever had to offer you. I know you loved him, y/n. I saw the way you looked at him. He even looked at you that way too, some people just… lose their minds. It’s not your fault, so please,”

He pulled you off of him and his hand cupped your face, brushing over your cheek to wipe the tears away. “Please don’t ever say you aren’t worth it. You are worth being loved.”

“Are you sure?” You whispered, touching his wrist gently from the hand on your face.

“Positive.” He whispered.

“Will I be okay?” The desperate sound of your voice, killed him inside. He looked down at you, and he realized you were nervous.

You were nervous he would say you would never heal. Which was wrong, but he knew you thought that. He has always known you inside and out.

“It’ll be okay, I promise you.”

All of this was a lot coming from Draco. He wasn’t beating anybody up in the halls. He wasn’t brushing off emotional talk, he was here. He was trying so hard to express everything he could. You could even tell he looked a little drained, as if he was trying so hard he was losing energy.

He really meant this.

Your uncontrollable sobs continued up again, and he pulled you back into his chest. He rubbed your head and let you cry without complaint. You were so grateful for this man, you could never overlook how he was always there. No matter what.

Eventually, you were falling asleep to the smell of Draco Malfoy and the warmth from the two of you under the shared blanket. You felt him kiss your head and you drifted off to sleep.

Draco knew your sleep would be uneasy, so he refused to leave. After all, Draco loved you. He couldn’t tell you like this, because he knew you needed to heal. Otherwise his emotions would get shut down, he wasn’t about to put any pressure on you, or mess up that big moment.

He watched you sleep, with one more tear rolling down your cheek. He rubbed it away and kissed where it had been, rubbing your cheekbone over and over.

Even crying you were beautiful. He wanted to call you his, so, so badly. To take you to the manor and share his giant bedroom, or to take you on long walks. He wanted to buy you everything in Hogsmeade, and do things just to hear that laugh you make. That’s his favorite sound.

You are his favorite everything.

How could someone not see what he does? It took all of his might not to break everything when he saw you with that guy, and after all this time that man didn’t even treat you like you were the world.

He tossed you aside. How dare he?

His heart broke at the thought of you finding out, so he couldn’t imagine what yours felt like, someone you love, just destroying your soul. From this day on, he was going to keep you safe, no matter what became of him. Even if it came at a price, he would.

When the time comes, he will make it memorable, he will prove he has emotions and that he truly cares. You won’t ever have to worry. He’d not just say he’d give you the world.

He’d show you, he’d prove it.

After all,

Words are nothing without taking action.

He can’t wait to tell you, and one day he finally will, but for now, you needed him like this. And right now, Draco wouldn’t have it any other way.

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a/n: wowww. emotional. sorry this is kinda short for me but i hope if you have ever felt the endless sinking hole from something like this, that it heals. stay safe guys. you’re incredibly loved by me <3 my dms are always open!

#fanfic #fanfiction #draco #dracotok #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x depressed!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x reader cheated #draco malfoy x dumped!reader #draco malfoy #slytherin #draco malfoy x gryffindor

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matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.

an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.

everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.

from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.

simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.

the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.

a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.

he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”

those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”

the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.

to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.

“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.

“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.

seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.

through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.

the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.

“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.

“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.

“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.

so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.

arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.

taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.

although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.

with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.

“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.

“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.

“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.

“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”

“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.

“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.

“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.

that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.

all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.

Andy, Andy, Andy

eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.

“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.

“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-

the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.

after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.

dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.

savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.

inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.

“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.

a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.

exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.

the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.

a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.

Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.

“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.

“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.

cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.

it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.

“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.

“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”

Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.

soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.

with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?

it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.

you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.

that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.

the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.

Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.

"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.

if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.

the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.

how could he have been so blind?

rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?

it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.

now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.

joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.

the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.

the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.

of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.

the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.

luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.

holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.

it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.

the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.

green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.

Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.

it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?

the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.

he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.

snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.

"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.

it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.

if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.

"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.

now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.

you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.

this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.

"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.

"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"

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106 notes · View notes

ryushiho · 3 years

Text

dramatic irony

pairing: iwaizumi x fem!reader (oikawa is involved as well)

contains: smut, oral (both giving and receiving) brief mentions of drugs/alcohol, oikawa, angst, angsty sex, brief mentions of non-consensual touching

w.c: 1.6k

a.n: its sad lul! also im working on a long gojou fic nd im gonna divide it into chapters! thats why ive been a lil slow in writing other fics like these haha

His sweatshirt slipped from your shaking hands, the white fabric deflating with a huff as it hit the floor.

Your heart dropped like sacks of wet concrete, anchoring your feet to the club’s alcohol-stained floor.

You knew he was popular with women, that every inch of him radiated sex and a good time. But he’d told you over and over again he was yours, that none of the women who lusted after him could even compare.

So why was his lips mashed against theirs, legs twining as though they were snakes in heat? Why were their fingers twined into his hair, breasts pushed against his naked chest?

Why?

It was the click of the closing door that finally drew his attention away from the women.

It was the sight of his crumpled sweatshirt that finally flushed the force-fed alcohol and drugs from his brain.

It was the teardrop stains patterning his sweatshirt that had him staggering out of the darkly lit room, sprinting across the floor despite his sprained ankle.

It was the music that drowned out Oikawa’s desperate cries of your name, just like it had drowned out his mumbled no’s and stop’s.

Tears blurred your vision as you slammed on the accelerator, raising cacophonies of angry honks and swerving cars in your wake. You didn’t know where you were going, where you were supposed to go.

Home was no longer an option, not when everything in that place reeked of him. No place in this damned city was an option, not when everything reminded you of him.

Fuck, even the stars were a cruel reminder of his eyes—the way they would twinkle when he smiled, when he’d sleepily confess his love for you.

You swerved the car into the nearest street, killing the engine with shaking fingers.

Utter silence filled the small space, crushing your lungs until you were gasping for air. Fingernails dug crescents into your neck as you clawed at the weight, struggling desperately against the incredible pain. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt…

It hurt until it didn’t.

It hurt until a wave of cold apathy flushed your heart: the brain’s attempt to save your sanity.

You stepped out of the stuffy car and into the brisk night, skimming the area. A dry chuckle burst from your lips when you realized where you were.

It was as if the universe loved torturing you.

Before you could even finish knocking, Iwaizumi yanked the door open and pulled you into an embrace.

“Iwa, what the–”

“I heard you cry,” he murmured, stroking your hair. “Come in, it’s cold.”

The door clicked behind you as he drew you inside his house, leading you into the living room. Settling you into the leather couch, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“You’re shivering,” he frowned.

You looked down in surprise. “Huh.”

You hadn’t noticed.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

And it was that one sentence—the warmth of his voice, his arms, his gaze—that had your walls crumbling, raw emotions bursting through you in a wave of desperation and need.

“I need you,” the raspy plea burst from your lips.

Iwaizumi flinched, your voice sending shivers straight down his spine. “Baby, wh–”

Your frenzied kiss cut him off, arms choking his torso as you devoured his lips.

As Iwaizumi returned your fevered kiss, the pieces began to click in his head. Your shrieking cries, the dented and clipped car, the heartbreak in your eyes…

Damn Tooru.

Only a bastard would take advantage of this situation. Only a desperate asshole would let you tug off his shirt and unbutton his jeans. Only a sick fuck would let you spit tear-stained saliva on his cock, let you take him in quivering lips that seemed like they were seconds away from bursting into a sob.

For you, Iwaizumi Hajime was a desperate fucking bastard.

“Fuck,” he couldn’t help but groan as you pumped his cock into your mouth.

For you, Iwaizumi Hajime was a sick fuck—one that had lusted after his best friend’s girlfriend of 6 years, one that had dreamt about your lips, your cunt longer than that fucking Oikawa had dated you.

He screwed his eyes shut, pushing away the guilt from his mind. He knew this chance would never come again. He’d make it last for the rest of his lifetime.

“Look at me, baby,” Iwaizumi hissed, digging his fingers into your hair. “That’s right, just like that.”

You moaned around his girth, his words slicking your cunt.

“Suckin’ my cock so well,” he caressed your hollowed cheeks. “Ah, fuck.” He tipped back his head as you forced yourself down his shaft, his thick head mashing into the back of your throat. “Balls fuckin’ deep, that’s right, my pretty baby,” he sighed.

His seed tasted as salty as your tears.

Iwa’s cum still stained your lips as you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, lips locked with his as you slipped off your panties.

When you finally tore away, gasping for air, he could still see the tears pearling your eyes.

He had time. He could stop you right now. He knew you’d regret this. He knew you’d never look at him the same way again, with the same pure love… the same, platonic fucking love.

Irrational rage filled Iwaizumi—he didn’t know if it was rage for Oikawa, who’d made you like this; rage for you, who’d never looked at him with the same lust, the same love he had for you; rage for himself, who was letting his clearly distressed friend fuck his selfish ass.

Regardless of who the rage was directed towards, Iwaizumi only knew it filled him with a singular purpose.

He’d make you remember this. He’d make you remember this night, make you never be able to look at him again without thinking his cock stretching your little cunny.

He’d make you remember him.

You gasped in surprise when Iwa wrapped his fingers around your neck, the grip almost bruising. “Iwa…?” you strained out, eyes flickering towards his heated snarl.

He gave no response; instead, he pushed you off his thighs and slammed you into the couch. Iwa’s strangling hold on your throat shackled you against the leathery surface, your body left completely vulnerable to his advances.

His lips were hot when they latched onto your clit. Iwa’s tongue lashed harshly against your sopping flesh, the wet muscle fucking your twitching entrance.

It was so different. Oikawa ate you out to bring you pleasure; Iwa ate you out to devour you, to take everything you had to offer and make it his.

You keened as he sucked your clit from its hood, teeth grazing the bundle of nerves. “Iwa!” You writhed in his vice-like grip, trying to alleviate the pleasure. “D-don’t! It’s too much!”

“That’s the fucking point, baby,” he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. He buried his head in your thighs, his lips sucking and slathering all over your throbbing cunt. “Tastiest fuckin’ cunny,” he groaned, each word punctuated by wet slurps of his tongue.

Screams burst from your hoarse throat as you came over his tongue, slick spurting uncontrollably from your cunny.

“Fuck yea, cum all over my tongue,” Iwa growled, gulping down your gushing arousal. “Creamin’ so good,” he moaned happily, his fingers tightening around your already-bruised throat. “You like that?”

You nodded against his grip, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Were you crying from overstimulation, or because Iwaizumi’s words reminded you of Oikawa’s own grunted praises?

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

“Need your cock,” you cried out, hands clawing for his body. “Need you inside me.”

He didn’t even give you time to adjust—and he was big, bigger than Oikawa. No, Iwaizumi wasn’t fucking you to make you feel good; he was fucking you to make you remember him.

And oh, you would. You cried out sputtered moans as he rammed into your cunt, his hips bruising your thighs with every brutal thrust. Animalistic grunts tickled your ears as he plowed into you without restraint, his cock bumping into the hard pucker of your cervix.

It hurt, but the sting of pain was a pleasurable one. His frenzied fingers flicking your clit only intensified the waves of euphoria rushing down your body. You curled your legs around his torso and squeezed, just like your cunt’s choking clamps around his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he growled, dipping his head down to suckle on your breast. “So perfect,” his snarl faltered for a second, but he schooled his expression back into a lust-filled grimace.

You threw your head back and howled, bliss pushing you to that brink. “Gonna cum, Iwa,” you screamed.

So lost were you in your pleasure that you failed to recognize the silhouette in the open window, the familiar red sports car next to your own.

And as you both hurtled into ecstasy, a shadow reeking of club-sweat and alcohol turned away and slid into his car.

Iwaizumi flooded your cunt with ropes of his hot cum, his deep groans drowning out the rumbling engine of Oikawa’s car.

When he slumped against you, spent in his orgasm, he found you sniffling silently, salty tears pearling your swollen eyes.

Sighing softly, he pulled you into his chest and pressed his lips into the crook of your shoulders.

“You still love him,” he remarked.

You nodded against his chest, tears mingling with the sweat on his skin.

“Shh,” he crooned, stroking your hair. “I know.”

Only when you fell asleep did Iwaizumi finally allow himself to cry.

Somewhere outside of Miyagi, Oikawa leans against his car, a cigarette lolling in his fingers. His voice is gritty as he whispers into the phone.

“I’ll take it.”

“You will?”

“Book a flight for Argentina. I’m leaving tonight.”

225 notes · View notes

jawritter · 3 years

Text

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Summary: You and Dean get stranded during the biggest snow story the North East part of America has ever seen and Dean has a pretty great way of warming the two of you up.

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Getting Snowed In

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2058

Warnings: Smut, unprotected smut, oral (female receiving), soft smut, language (I’m sure it’s in there somewhere because it’s me), drinking, cuddling. I think that’s about it.

A/N: This fic was Beta’d by the lovely @deanwanddamons! Thanks again love! Please don’t copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!

**MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

“Dean, are you sure you know where you’re going?” you yell through the howling wind and whirling snow as you track heavily through the gathering white mush and ice that was damn near up to your knees at this point.

“I’m sure sweetheart. It’s just through these trees, we’re almost there I promise.”

You were just about to argue that you felt like you had been trudging through this mess for hours going around in circles, when you saw the very peaks of what you were sure was a chimney tucked deep in the trees.

The deeper you moved into the snow covered forest, the clearer the sight of your salvation against the unforgiving, biting cold came into view. Thank fuck Bobby left these little cabins littering North America. They came in handy in moments like these.

It was supposed to be just a simple salt and burn. A couple of hours drive back to the bunker promised that you and Dean would be home before Christmas morning. What neither of you anticipated was the arctic blast that had struck out of nowhere, quickly rendering the road impossible, and bridges completely wiped out. Dean pulled Baby into the safety of the trees where he could find her once this was all over, about three miles down a dirt and mud covered road, and the two of you had set off on foot in search of shelter.

Thanks to Bobby, it looks like the two of you won't be freezing to death tonight, but you also won't be getting home anytime soon thanks to dangerous roads and blinding snow.

The heavy clunk of your boats as the pair of you stepped onto the old weather worn porch were drowned out by another blast of icy wind that you swore had grown invisible teeth, and was nipping at the exposed skin of your face. You shivered hard as Dean forced the heavy door open, and the two of you beat it inside the dark old cabin as another blast nearly knocked the wind out of you.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been caught in a snow storm this bad,” Dean said, picking up his cellphone and checking for service, and finding none before he threw it down on the old table close to the front door. “Looks like the cell towers are knocked out, which means…”

“No electricity either,” you finish for him, trying the old lightswitch on the wall, and coming up dark.

You watched as Dean pulled his zippo from his pocket, and made his way around the old couch that stood alone in the center of the floor before kneeling in front of the old fireplace that sat against the western wall of the old place, picking up a few old logs and preparing to light some warmth into the chill that was nipping at the two of you even safely inside and away from the blistering wind and snow.

“We got enough firewood here to do us through the night,” Dean said, as he stoked the flames to life in front of him. His legs bowed out perfectly in the dark jeans which were illuminated by the fire’s warm glow as you crossed the floor to get closer to the much desired heat. “I will go get enough at first light to do us at least tomorrow. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to get back on the road for a couple of days.”

“Great,” you grumble, sitting down heavily on the old couch and looking around what was going to be your little home until this mess blew over.

“It’s not all bad,” Dean said, grabbing the old throw blanket draped over the back of the couch and dropping it over your shivering shoulders. “There’s plenty of food stored in here to last us for weeks. We’ve got enough firewood to get us through the worst of the storm, and if I know Bobby,” he said, stalking his way over to the cabinets, opening and shutting them before he found his prize, holding up a bottle of Tennessee's finest in the air as if it were the national world cup. “We’ve got plenty of the good stuff to help us keep warm until this old place heats up.”

You bite your lips against the stupid grin that threatened to pull at the corners of your lips as you watched him dig out two glasses, and stalk his way over to you, stripping off his top layer of jackets as he went before coming to flop down next to you, taking his share of the blanket and snuggling you next to him so that his body heat could help warm you up while he poured each of you a generous three fingers a piece of the deep amber liquid.

You had quite the crush on Dean, and had for some time, but Dean was not the type of man to settle down, and you knew there was no point giving into this little infatuation you had developed for the eldest Winchester. It would be one sided, and it would probably only end in heartache.

You bring your glass to your lips, letting the liquor warm you and calm the pace of your steadily pounding heart as Dean did the same, letting a comfortable silence fall as the two of you watched the flames dance over the logs in the fireplace, crackling against the wind, and giving this old place an almost wholesome feel that you hadn’t expected when you first entered it.

Dean’s arm found it’s way over your shoulder as he subconsciously tucked you safely into his side, draining the remainder of his drink before pouring another, and refilling yours.

“Sorry I dragged you all the way out here to get stuck with me,” he told you finally, kicking his boots off and propping his feet up on the small coffee table as you did the same. Either the fire, or the alcohol successfully warmed you enough to where you weren’t shivering anymore, and could finally relax.

“S’okay Dean, not like I had big plans anyway.”

You could feel his deep, green eyes searching over you even though you kept your gaze on the flames dancing in front of you to a beat only they could hear, but you didn’t meet his gaze, too afraid of what he’d see there, too afraid he’d see just how badly you wanted to kiss those soft pink lips that always seemed to be parted just enough to seem like they were begging you capture them in your own.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, there’s not anyone I’d rather be stranded with than you,” he said, his deep rumble seemingly deeper if it all possible, flowing through your body and sending an uncontrollable shiver down your spine.

You tear your eyes away from the flames in utter shock, meeting his piercing gaze that seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit room as another blast of wind blew and rattled the old ice and dust covered windows, only broken by the beep of Dean’s watch, announcing to the two of you that midnight had fallen.

You look down, taking note of the time on his wrist, and then back up to his breathtakingly handsome face that had moved closer to your own. “It’s midnight,” you mumble, eyes tracking from his lips to his forest green gaze, your breath hitching in your throat as you struggle to remember how to breath with him so close to you.

“Well, then Merry Christmas sweetheart,” he said, his spearmint and whiskey scented breath fanning over your quickly warming skin and drawing you in better than a sirens call on the open ocean before his lips captured your own, stealing your breath and your heart as his tongue gliding into your lips with ease, teasing and tasting as he kissed you utterly drunk; better than any top shelf brandy or whiskey you had ever tasted.

It was like a fire had been lit deep down in your gut, and was stoked deeper and hotter with every brush of his calloused hand against newly exposed skin as clothes hit the floor piece by piece until you were utterly bare before one another.

His strong grip held you close to him as insecurities and self induced fear, brought on by the anxiety of the unknown, melted away into the warm brush of his sinful mouth as it traveled down your sweat dampened skin, and over your most intimate places; leaving a burning pleasure in its wake as his hot tongue slid easily through your slick folds.

Gasp and moans of pleasure echoed through the empty cabin, only broken by the deep rumble of his growl while his tongue worked your little bundle of nerves and lapped at your throbbing and quivering center until you were a shaking, pleasure drunk mess under his control, completely at his mercy.

The dam of emotions he’d released inside of you as your body came down from it’s high left you trembling in its wake, calmed only by his lips as they kissed their way back up to your body, and to your kiss swollen lips, giving you a hint of what he was tasting, and leaving you begging him for more of him, more of him he was ready to give you.

He slid his thick length into you with ease as he continued to kiss hot and deep, swallowing each moan and sound that fell from your lips greedily while his hips thrusted into you, deep and deeper, stretching, pulling and pushing, driving you into a bliss filled delirium with each brush of his swollen manhood through your clenching core until he was rutting himself into you in a desperate attempt to bring the release to the both of you that seemed to be overwhelming, and still not enough to push you over that glorious edge. Your body and souls connected as he rooted his pulsing member deeper into that place you never knew existed,his fingers leaving bruises on the skin of your thighs as his own body began to shake above you, his control beginning to slip, his lips parted and eyes closed in utter ecstasy of the warmth and sensual bliss your body was providing him until he jerked and spilled deep inside of you, triggering your own flooding release that left you putty in his well capable hold.

When it was all over, and your hearts and breathing had returned to a normal pace, Dean pulled himself from you carefully, using his discarded shirt to clean the two of you off before snuggling down behind you on the old tattered couch. The fire still danced across the heap of logs, bringing more warmth against the bitter cold that still howled and pounded against the world of bitter darkness outside around you. It was cold outside, but here, in this little safe haven you had created for yourself in the middle of nowhere and confusion, it was warm and safe wrapped in his arms.

“Merry Christmas Dean,” you whisper to him once you thought he’d finally fallen asleep behind you with you tucked safely into his strong chest.

Things would never be the same between the two of you again, but miracles do happen, and change can be a good thing. Right?

Dean’s lips brushed the back of your neck, sending the whisper of a chill through your exhausted body, causing him to chuckle behind you and pull you closer to him.

“I love you sweetheart. Sorry we had to get stuck here for me to get the balls to do something about it,” he whispered, gripping your hip with his large hand, brushing your lips once more with his own.

“I love you too Dean, and if this is what getting stranded with you means I’m in no hurry to go anywhere,” you tell him. He chuckled and kissed you deeply as the electricity came back on, the sound of the old TV playing Baby It’s Cold Outside humming in the far corner of the room as you fell asleep wrapped in the warmest place you had ever been. In the arms of the man you had always loved. The best Christmas present anyone could have ever given you. Your heart.Your Dean.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @chevyharvelle @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6 @anaelsbrunette @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @miss-nerd95 @writers-whirlwind

#spnchristmasbinog #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #dean smut #dean one shot #spn fanficiton #spn fanfic #spn one shot #spn smut #jawritter #jensen ackles #x reader inserts

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terrietont · 3 years

Text

Undertale: A life for a life

When Toriel accidently kills Frisk mid-battle, a devious flower takes control unwarely creating hope among monster-kind for all except one.

Chapter 1: Murder

Shaking, she washed the blood off her paws,It’s crimson red staining her fur. Tears ran down her face endlessly. She couldn’t stop them. There were too many. Her eyes fogged up, barely a blur left in her vision.

Her whole body felt numb as a lump caught in her throat.

‘This isn’t real...’ She thought. ‘This can’t be real!’

Her lips quivered as her breathing quickened. Short inhalations and exhalations, in and out moving at the speed of sound. Her heart was burning against her chest, as if it were about to burrow through her entire body and escape. The numb feeling enveloped her entire body but at the same time the pure and agonizing pain of her heart pulsed against her very soul.

She had done this.

Her mind wandered into dark corners as the water from the faucet continued to flow. Memories flooding back into the dark abyss of her now empty heart. Horrible memories of what she had done.

The boss monster held her breath as the she turned off the tap. She leaned her hands agains the sink, looking down at the floor. Her chest moving up and down slowly. The disbelief of the situation made her dizzy. A bellowing cry escaped the former queen’s snout. She held her wet paws across her face, sobbing uncontrollably.

Toriel kneeled down onto the floor, holding her face tightly, a deep pained frown. Tears ran onto the floor. Sobs accompanied with hiccups escaped.

She realized something horrific as she held her breath.

“I really am no better than him after all” she smiled almost feeling like she was losing her mind. A another wail of horror escaped.

The grief. The tragedy. The horror of what she had done.

It was all true. She had killed the child. The one child that had trusted her enough to call her “mother” and now they had to be buried next to the first human.

A red glowing heart. An aura of red enveloped it. She could barely keep her eyes adjusted to the blinding beams.

The soul was still in tact for now, soon it would crack and disappear. What choice did she have now?

Her paws merely lay under the soul as it hovered above them.

She placed the soul inside a basket-like container, it’s visual presence undetected.

The only proof she had to be seen were the tear stains across her cheeks and the shaking of her limbs.

“I’m a murderer...” she uttered. Toriel leaned her head in her hands, hiding her face.

Flashbacks of her battle with the child enveloped her brain. She couldn’t fathom what she really had done. All the emotional distress was beating her physical form into pieces. She thought she would turn to dust any minute now.

“Hee hee Hee” a voice cackled. Startled, she looked towards the origin of the laughter. It was a flower. A white buttercup with yellow petals and a wide sinister grin. The flower top sat, resting on a thin green stem.

“You really think no one would find out about this?” Flowey laughed with an evil smirk.

Toriel hurriedly got up from her chair and put her hands out in a desperate gesture. “No please it was an accident!” She cried. Flowey’s grin widened.

“Accident? Haha! I KNOW you did it on purpose to try and “protect” the child.” Flowey leaned closer towards the former queen. His eyes going black with white pupils.

“Now look what’s happened...” He began, his voice echoing with poison.

“They’re dead.” Horrifyingly, Flowey’s face managed to mimick a human skull shape.

Toriel tripped backwards, chair falling behind her. Tears began running down her face again.

“Spare me your self pity!” Flowey seethed.

“YOU did this. This is all your fault!” He teased. “And after you tried not to be like him...” Flowey cocked his head to the side with a mocking tone from his mouth.

The reality finally set in. Toriel fell to her knees. “You are right. I am like him.” She wept.

“What are you going to do now huh?” Flowey asked mockingly. “Are you going to continue crying until you dry out into a sobbing excuse of a queen?” His voice was laced with venom as he spoke.

“Or are you going to go to the Asgore and tell him you’re just the same as him and expect forgiveness?”

“Or what if I take the soul instead? You won’t have to worry about it at all!” Flowey laughed. At this point Toriel was holding her head in anguish.

Thoughts, grieving, worries, all of it was swimming around her brain. Her body felt numb.

“No no no no no no no no!” She repeated hysterically. “No NO NO NO NO!” Her tone began to darken, her eyes going almost pure white.

Flowey began to feel uneasy, whether it was the absolute state of Toriel or the fact that the temperature was begining to pick up in the room, he didn’t know. “Shut up already!” He barked at her angrily.

Memories came flooding back for the Queen. A son, a child... a tragedy. “No!” She cried, fire surrounding her this time.

“Asriel... I’m sorry...” She shuddered looking at Flowey. Flowey frowned, his eyes growing with anger. “Shut up! Don’t you dare use that name!” He barked angrily.

Toriel let out a light chuckle, tears running down her cheeks, her eyes now looking bloodshot.

“My child, do not worry”

Flowey growled, gnashing his teeth. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

The Flowey looked towards the basket where the human’s soul was kept in. Vines burst out from the ground as they grabbed hold of the basket, taking the red soul inside.

“Haha!” Flowey cackled evilly. He took hold of the soul in his vines. He smiled deviously.

However without anyone’s knowledge, the soul began to glow brighter, moving closer to the flower. Flowey looked confusedly at it before feeling a sudden burst of energy rush through him. As if it still had the child’s sentience from before, the soul itself had chosen Flowey as it’s host without him even trying.

The power of this determination, the most powerful soul Flowey had ever felt. It rushed through his non existent body so fast and strong he felt almost overwhelmed.

The flower collapsed, dangling from his stem.

This soul was amazing. A power unlike any other. This child was stronger than anyone he had ever seen.

Asriel Dreemurr’s emerald eyes lit up.

A paw reached out to the grieving mother who was on her knees, unable to focus on anything.

“Mom?” The sad voice called out. Toriel turned slowly. What she saw caused the flames to die out.

“Asriel...?” The words were dry on her tongue, as if she didn’t know what she was actually saying.

Asriel looked down at his paws in shock. “I-I- I’m-“ before he could finish he felt a hard squeeze around his entire body. The shuddering mess that was his mother embraced him tightly. The warmth and relief of the hug filled the prince’s eyes with tears.

“Mama...” he cried out soflty. “Mama!” Another cry as he held her tighter. “My baby!” Toriel cried with exasperation.

As he embraced his mother, he felt a warmth in his soul and heard a voice, soft and echoing yet strange.

“Hello” the voice spoke. “I’m sorry” they said soflty. Asriel didn’t know how to respond, especially with the grief of his mother holding him tightly.

“Where’s dad?” Asriel’s tone was more upbeat, but his mother’s reaction was rather downcast. “In the castle.” She replied, hiding her disgust.

“Can we please see him?...” Asriel asked soflty.

Toriel hesitated. She really did not want to see Asgore again, but for the sake of their child, she would swallow her pride and anger for now.

“If you wish, my child.”

Without being spotted, Toriel and Asriel made their way through the underground and towards the capital. Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes were watching them from a camera view.

Alphys’s eyes widened. She nearly spat out her noodles all over the computer monitor. “O-oh my god! There’s THREE of them?!” She bellowed.

Asgore was busy minding his own buisiness, watering flowers.

“Dum dee dum” he sang.

Toriel entered the throne room, dreading the voice in front of her, whilst squeezing Asriel’s hand.

Asgore turned around surprised after hearing someone clear their throat to get his attention. “Oh? Is someone there?”

“Howdy! How can I-“ The king backed away a few steps. “Oh my...” he saw his son’s face, his Ex Wife’s patient smile. It all came flooding out.

“M-my boy...” Asgore weeped with a smile. Asriel ran straight to him, beaming with relief. “Dad!” The two embraced longingly. “Tori... you-“ Asgore began looking at the Ex Queen who was frowning worriedly. “Please do not Tori me Dreemurr!” She groaned exasperated.

“Mom please!” Asriel begged, holding tightly onto his father.

“I-I am sorry I just- how did-“ Asgore was at a loss for words, he didn’t know how his son came back, but he did. He was here and that’s all that mattered.

The horror stricken reality sunk into her. She tried to be angry, she tried to be dismissive and show no emotion but she fell to her knees yet again. Her sins were weighing her down heavily.

“I-I cannot take this any longer!” She cried. Asgore looked towards her, stunned and worried. “Toriel...” he uttered soflty.

“I have- I am-“ She hiccuped, feeling completely nauseated by the very words that she would have to say.

Asriel looked horrified as he realized what she was scared of. His soul. This soul... how did he get this in the first place?

He couldn’t remember and yet it was all about to be revealed.

“I have murdered...” Toriel uttered breathlessly. “

The king was taken aback. He couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. She had done something that he had done in the past to make her leave him? If he was unreasonable, he would’ve called her out, he would’ve been angry as to see she had taken the same path as him. But he stood there in shock, concern, fear. He loved her too much to let her feel the pain he had felt once.

“It is going to be okay...” He tried inching closer to her. Her eyes snapped away from him, pushing him back. “Get away from me!” She screamed. Unlike her usual anger towards him, this anger was a mask. A mask hiding pain and grief. This was an obvious mask it wasn’t to keep him away from her... it was to keep her away from anyone.

“I do not deserve your pity...” She seethed, her eyes turned away from him. Her fangs showed, angry and depressed. “After what I did” She began.

Asgore was confused now. She had said she was a murderer, but how so? Who had she killed? How was Asriel alive again? All of these questions plagued his brain.

“Please. You need to tell me.” He urged sternly, paws out in front of him.

“Take care of Asriel. I- I am going home” Her voice was meek and low. She had walked out of the throne room. Asgore desperately wanted to run after her, but he knew that would do more harm than good.

Asriel however was not going to give up so easily. “Mom!” He shouted.

He ran to her as her pace continued ever faster.

“Mom please!”

“Go away!” She yelled back, running away faster. Asriel was able to keep up, getting closer but remaining at a distance. “They know it wasn’t your fault!” He yelled.

Toriel stopped running and stood still, her face hidden from view. By now the two were by the caste hall, an eerie silence washing over them.

“I can feel their soul talking to me.” Asriel continued.

No response. “They say that... you have always been a good mother despite what you did today. They say they love you still”

Slowly, Toriel’s head began to turn back around. “Asriel.” She began.

“Asriel!” Asgore’s voice echoed towards the hallway. He rushed over to his son. “My son?” Asriel looked up at Asgore, glossy eyed. “Dad.” He murmured.

Toriel inhaled sharply and then turned and continued running. “Mom!” Asriel yelled out, a large white paw grabbing his arm, his other arm reaching outwards. “You must let her go, son...” Asgore sighed sadly.

“I’m sorry” he looked down at his child. Asriel’s breathing quickened. All he wanted was to have the family back together again, as happy as before. He was so tired of being a flower, he was so tired of being conflicted between two worlds.

Word got out that the prince of the underground was alive once more. The absolute shock and confusion swept over the citizens. How was this possible? Only Asriel truly knew.

“I hope the bed is as comfy as you remember” Asgore smiled down at Asriel who had himself tucked into his old bed. New home was less silent than it had once been.

“Thank you dad” he smiled in response. Asgore sighed deeply, smiling warmly. “If you need anything, let me know, alright?” The king looked over at his son who was making himself more comfortable in bed. “Will do” and with that, Asgore left the room quietly. His footsteps fading from earshot. Asriel stared up at the ceiling, his breathing slow.

“What do we do now?” He asked. A voice responded. “Are you awake?” A child’s voice asked in an echod trance. Asriel rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” He replied sarcastically. The child chuckled a little, the voice sounding less like a bad thought and more like some kind of weird guardian Angel.

“I just wanted to let you know... I’m okay like this.” The child’s soul admit. Asriel paused in thought for a moment. He couldn’t imagine a world in which living inside someone else’s body as a soul was a good outcome.

“Really, I am.” The soul spoke almost immediately after Asriel thought about it. The young monster’s eyes widened. “A-are you reading my thoughts?” He asked nervously. The soul chuckled almost in a naughty manner. “Maybe...”

Asriel groaned and lay on his side, ear squishing against the pillow. “Great... now I can’t even think without having my privacy invaded.”. “I promise I won’t look into anything personal!” The soul replied almost frantically. “You better not okay? I’m trusting you on this!” Asriel bit his lips.

“You can trust me, friend!” The voice replied, it sounded as if they were smiling as well. “Are we a team?” Asriel asked impatiently. “We’re a team!” The soul answered enthusiastically. Asriel couldn’t help but smile. This soul was warm and comforting. Although being invasive, he knew he was grateful for this soul, the soul that willingly gave itself to him. Why? He would never know.

#asgore dreemurr #asgore #toriel #undertale #asriel #flowey #frisk #fanfiction #undertale fanfiction #asgoriel #undertale au #tumblr’s formatting sucks #pardon for the paragraph mess #undertale: a life for a life

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t-lostinworlds · 4 years

Text

Extra (Tom Holland)

A/N: What is this? I have finished something? Me?? posting?? A FIC? WHAT? Is the world actually ending!?!? I think I’m funny but I’m not, clearly. Glad to be out of my writing rot tho aha. Hope you guys like this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Singer!Reader

Summary: You get a sweet but very extra surprise on your birthday nearing the end of your show.

Warnings: Fluff and my usual typos

Word Count: 5.5k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

The sound of your phone just going off uncontrollably was what woke you up, and you were completely sure that it wasn't your alarm.

You squint your eyes at the bright glare of the screen, a huge contrast to your still dim hotel room. You literally had just woken up hence why the curtains aren't open yet, it's still a bit too early after all.

Flicking the ringer on silent, birthday greetings and messages from friends and families were still flooding through, your phone now vibrating instead of your loud ringtone, giving your ears a break.

As you read through and responded to all of them, you couldn't help but feel a little down after you realized you haven't seen his name yet.

Of course you feel grateful for all the sweet messages everyone has sent you, your heart is melting from all the love. But there's that slight disheartened feeling that you can't seem to shake, slight worry that your boyfriend might have forgotten about your birthday.

You haven't heard from Tom since yesterday morning, which now makes it almost a full day. After he texted you that he was going to be doing a lot of stunts and is probably going to be super busy, he then just disappeared, not even slipping in a text good night. You did let it pass though, because he might have been quite knackered after the shoot.

Message to Tom: Good morning bub <3 Just checking up on you since you haven't read or replied to any of my messages at all. Hope you're okay and haven't injured yourself Thomas. I really miss you a lot and I love you loads x

Your frown could only deepen as you hit send, still no response nor any sign that he's got your messages whatsoever.

Normally, it wouldn't really be a big deal but the last you've seen him in person was three months ago. He was busy shooting the third installment of Spider-Man all while doing a few projects on the side. And you, well, you're touring around the world.

You could be patient and blame it on the time difference why he hasn't greeted yet, but he's just behind a couple hours. Tom has made it a habit of always greeting you at midnight no matter what and where, he's just cliché like that, and it was definitely passed midnight in New York.

God, you sound so much like a whiny and ungrateful brat, but you can't help it, you just miss him so much.

Maybe you've gotten so used to always spending your birthdays with him so the first time that you're celebrating it from different parts of the globe, it does makes you sad.

You did try to make ends meet, but a week before today, he's brought you the news that he can't fly out due to conflicting schedules with some of the actors he's working with, and that it's critical that he's there on the day. To be the leading role of a gigantic movie, asking a few days off is never that simple.

On the other hand, you have a show today and tomorrow, so flying to him isn't exactly ideal either. You understand of course, you are sort of in the same line of work, but still, it doesn't make you feel any less gloomy.

With one big stretch, you placed your phone back on your side table as you slowly got out of bed, opting to go and take a shower to then head down and meet the crew for breakfast.

Maybe you'll hear from him later in the day.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon and still not a single word from Tom.

You were growing worried because it was so unlike him to be very cut off and silent.

Did he lose his phone?

You tried to contact Harry—who's with Tom currently—but he too wasn't responding. Everything was just off and odd altogether, the tiny pit in your stomach only growing bigger the more you worry and think about where your man is.

"Have you heard from Tom?" You asked with furrowed brows the moment Molly, your manager approached you on stage. Your hand found its way to fish your phone out of your pocket to check it for the umpteenth time, but still, no sign of him.

You were finishing up your final soundcheck before you were off to a mini get-together—snacks and drinks included—with some of your fans. It was your alternative to a meet and greet because you'd rather hang out and have real conversations with them than the whole quick snap and go.

She shook her head at you all confused, a slight glimmer in her eyes that you didn't quite catch. "Uh no, why?"

You sighed. Tom doesn't really contact your manager unless its important matters, so you don't even know why you're asking, maybe you've just grown desperate to hear even the smallest thing from him, just anything. "Never mind. Is it time?"

"Yeah, they're all waiting for you."

You simply nodded as you followed her off stage, handing the guitar over to your guy on the way.

Walking through the hallway, you kept your head down, eyes glued to your phone as you respond to more messages from people, but also checking if Tom has come back from ghost town.

You were aimlessly following Molly to wherever room or space they set up the get-together in, just watching her shoes and never looking up from your device. That, until you heard a few shuffling of rushed feet and a door being slammed shut.

"What was that? And what's in here?" You asked, eyes now trained on a door of what looks like another dressing room. Molly continued walking, so you kept following but with your gaze still glued to the door, curios as to what's going on inside because you definitely can hear a bit of ruckus.

"Oh just the staff, that's one of their rooms." She answered casually, not even bothering to give you or the room a glance.

"Is it weird if I just go inside and say thank you? Would that be too... intrusive?" You pondered, halting in your tracks as you contemplated on knocking. You just wanted to extend your gratitude for all their hard work, but you aren't sure if they were comfortable with you suddenly just strolling in.

"It's not weird at all hun, but you've got a schedule." She smiled at you sweetly, nodding her head towards the direction of the get-together.

"Oh right, yeah, let's go."

You gave the door one last look before turning on your heel to follow Molly once again, up until you reached another space covered in curtains. And the moment your bodyguard pulled it open, wide smiles on faces greeted you as they all sang in tune.

"Happy birthday to you!"

You laughed as you shyly shook your head at them. Warmth coated your whole body in an instant as love and pure adoration radiated off of the space, off of your fans.

You did as much as wave your fingers in the air as they sang, serving as a conductor because for the number of years you've been on this earth, you still have no idea what to do when people sing the birthday song to you.

* * *

"I can't thank you guys enough for being here with me tonight. You guys have been so incredible, you always are." You breathed out as your voice echoed throughout the whole arena. You looked at the thousands of people who came tonight to see you perform with a proud grin, their energy never wavering as they sing your songs back to you from each melody to lyric.

Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you tried to catch your breath, taking the water bottle off of the floor and lifting it up to your lips to have a quick drink.

"Now, give me everything you've got for this last song alright?" You spoke into the mic once you've rehydrated.

"Wait, wait. Don't you guys agree that Y/N is killing it tonight?" Your pianist, Sara, interrupts, the crowd cheering in agreement at her input. "And judging by today's occasion, I think we all owe her a little song." She added, earning a hearty laugh from you as you brought the mic back to your lips.

"You guys don't have to—"

"Happy birthday to you!"

The song was played no matter your protest, Sara leading the crowd as she plays the tune on her keys, the rest of the band following suit.

Your laugh bounced off the walls as you stood there in complete awe. It was a beautiful sight to see, the crowd all singing in unison, lights up in the air as they pour all their heart to the simple yet special song. The song still filling you up with joy and warmth despite having heard it countless of times for the whole day, and the fact that all these people were there for you? It was definitely the icing on the cake.

"Thank you so much you lovely people, y'all are making me emotional. And they say the best way to spend your birthdays is with the people you love and the ones who love you, and they were absolutely right. I'm so blessed to have you guys tonight, because I do love you all very much." You stated fondly the moment they finished with a loud cheer, a hand placed right atop your heart as you feel it grow ten times its size.

"Y/N, we've got another something for you." Sara spoke before you could even get another word out, hand gesturing towards the large screen right behind you.

"Oh god, is this mission make Y/N ugly cry today?" You laughed, turning around just in time too see the tour artwork turning pitch black to then be replaced by a huge countdown.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

The crowd roared in delight as Mr. Niall Horan joined with Lewis Capaldi appeared on screen, large pints of Guinness on hand with their arms around each other as they give you their birthday greeting.

"Happy birthday Y/N! But since we're halfway across the world, we'll be there with you in spirit. Also, Lewis and I decided to celebrate anyway so cheers to you and have an amazing day." Niall chuckled as he lifted his beer up. "I'll make sure to have a good drink for you Y/N! We miss ya and we love ya!" Lewis added with a cheeky grin, and you couldn't help but shake your head at the two with a big smile of your own.

You've worked with them both on a few songs, and both were the funniest yet sweetest gentlemen you've met in the industry, especially when you put the two together.

Both of them emptied their glasses as they bid their goodbyes, Niall's loud laugh echoing throughout the arena when Lewis spilled before they disappeared on screen.

The crowd went even louder once Shawn Mendes' pretty face appeared on it next, sporting his usual bright smile as he gave you his short but sweet greeting. "Happy birthday Y/N! Wishing you all the best in life since you deserve all of it! Can't wait to work with you again soon! Have fun on your birthday honey!"

You shook your head in disbelief. An amused smile was plastered on your face, still unable to fathom that a few years ago you were a huge fan of him. And now you can say you've worked with him, even call him a friend. Funny, how the universe works.

Alessia Cara came up next with a smile, wide and bright, you're heart melting to see one of your greatest and closest friends. She's just a pure and kindhearted soul, a rare beauty. "Hey there you lovely and amazing woman! Happy birthday! I miss hanging out with you a lot but I shall see you soon! Keep conquering the world Y/N! I am so proud of how far you've come and you deserve every bit of success that comes your way. Again happy birthday! Have an amazing one and I love you!" She blew you a sweet kiss and waved you goodbye, tears already brimming in your eyes at all the love and appreciation thrown your way.

Next were Zendaya and Jacob Batalon, who you've grown close with through no other person than Tom. Both were clearly on set sitting on directors' chair in their characters' outfits. Both looked a little tired but they still greeted you with wide smiles nonetheless.

"Happy birthday Y/N!" They screamed in unison. "We wished we could be there with you to celebrate your birthday but you already know how these things go." Z pouted, Jacob copying her as well and you couldn't help but giggle. "But soon when we get a break we will catch up and celebrate your birthday." Jacob added with a knowing grin. "Anyway! Duty calls so enjoy your birthday and have great one! We love you!"

Then friends and family came up on screen, ones who you've missed most having been away from them for so long and that's when you felt your heart ache a little. Happy tears were brimming in your eyes as each of them shared their lovely messages, saying how proud they are for how far you've come. And when those words come from the people who you truly care about, it means the absolute world.

The next person to share their video message didn't help with the tears either, a hushed sob escaping your lips the moment you saw his familiar face.

The crowd behind you screamed at the top of their lungs the moment Thomas Stanley Holland appeared on screen, handsome face sporting that sweet and charming smile as he sat in his trailer wearing his Spider-Man suit.

"Hello darling. My love, I'm so gutted that I'm not there so celebrate your birthday with you. If I could teleport myself by your side right now, I would in a heartbeat, but anyway, happy birthday sweetheart!" Tom exclaimed joyfully, grin all beaming and you couldn't help but miss him even more.

"Oh, where do I start? Well, I can start by saying how proud I am of you, so so proud of the gorgeous, powerful, strong and successful woman that you've grown to become. You've worked so hard to get where you are today and it fills me with so much happiness knowing that you're out there traveling the world and doing what you love the most." The crowd cooed at Tom's sweet words, your heart was already melting at the seams as more tears threaten to spill, and he wasn't even done yet.

"You deserve the whole world if not more with how kindhearted and compassionate you are. And gosh you make me feel so happy and loved. I feel so lucky to have someone like you in my life, I can't even begin to describe to you exactly how much, and if I tried? Then we'd be here for hours on end. And lastly—because I'm being called to set right now, if I wasn't I'd be talking about how amazing you are some more—I am truly, madly and deeply in love with you Y/N. You are my world and I hope I make you feel loved every single day, because you truly deserved to be."

"Tom they're waiting for you."

"Yeah, just one more minute." Tom calls out to someone off shot before his eyes landed back on the camera, staring straight at you through the screen with a guilty smile. Guilty because it pains him that he's not there with you. "I love you dearly, and I miss you so much. I'll make it up to you I promise. Once again, happy birthday to my beautiful girl and I shall see you soo—"

All of a sudden the screen went static, Tom's words being cut off as you heard nothing but white noise. Then everything just went black, the whole arena dark as the night as gasps of surprise and screams of panic echoed throughout its walls.

Tell everyone to stay calm Y/N, we're fixing things up.

Your sound guy spoke in your in-ear. You nodded despite the fact that they probably can't see you due to the darkness. Turning back around to the audience, you spoke into the mic. "I'm sorry guys, just technical difficulties. Just stay in your seats in be calm, the lights should be back on in a minute."

And as if on cue, the crowd screamed as the power turned back on. However, after a few seconds, they turned unusually rowdy, too rowdy for it to be only that reason. Slowly you got the feeling it wasn't only because of that, judging by the volume and power of their cheer, and by a few fans pointing at the stage as if they're seeing something you aren't.

For a split second, you met eyes with Molly who was right by the side of the stage. She had that all-knowing grin on her face as she pointed towards something behind you.

Confused, you turned around, jumping in sheer shock when you were met by a hanging, upside-down person dressed in a red and black Lycra suit, face all covered with a mask making the identity of the person pretty much unknown.

Your heart beat quickened as you stumbled back on your feet at the sight of the person, your brain registering it back to a specific boy—one who you saw on screen minutes ago wearing the exact same outfit—even if there was no confirmation as their face wasn't even shown. Your whole body was trembling from surprise, excitement but also worry that it might not be who you think it is under that mask.

Emotions were all over the place as you stared right at upside-down, masked-face of Spider-Man who held a birthday cupcake in hand.

"No, no, stop, please, is this a prank?" You croaked out, shaking your head as tears started to escape your eyes, question a must because you're having a really hard time believing what you're seeing.

It's been a long day, you just really wanted to make sure that what's happening is real and not just a figment of your imagination. You had to make sure that it wasn't the desperation of you missing your boyfriend painting pictures in your head. Not only that, but to really be sure that it's actually him under that mask.

"Guys! Don't even play! Please don't get my hopes up. That's a stunt double right?" You asked into the mic as you looked at your band and the rest of the crew for answers, who gave you nothing but wide smiles. You just feel like it would be too good to be true, and you really don't want to face disappointment if it wasn't him.

On the other hand, out of all the things they could have done to prank you, why would they choose this? It's a bit cruel to prank someone on their birthday now doesn't it? Especially when it involves playing with their emotions?

Unless, it's not a prank at all and you're getting way too ahead of yourself.

Mr. Spider-Man beckons you over, finger pointing at your hand to which you held the mic. With tears already clouding your vision, you moved closer slowly.

Reaching a close enough proximity, you had one hand over your mouth to silence your whimpers as the other lifted the microphone up to where Spider-Man's mouth is supposed to be. And the moment he spoke, you've lost any sense of control over your emotions or your sanity, his voice just too familiar for it to be someone else's.

"Why don't you take off the mask and find out yourself darling?"

You shook your head at the upside down boy as joyful tears streamed down your face, shaking hands lifting up to hook your fingers on the edge of the mask, pulling it down and removing it fully to reveal the face of the man you love.

"You sneaky bastard." You laughed tearfully, Tom only grinning at you all proud, his face now turning redder as the seconds pass by, being upside-down and all.

"Happy birthday sweetheart." He chuckled, offering you the cupcake, which you took gladly, balancing it with the mic on your hand. You were unable to form any more words as you stared at Tom, still unable to believe that it's actually him, and that he's here, in the flesh.

The crowd started to chant the word "kiss" over and over, making you throw your head back in pure laughter.

"We should do the kiss." Tom wriggled his eyes brows at you, mischievous smirk in play and you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling at your boy. But still, you gave in anyway as you cupped his face softly, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of his warm skin against your palm.

You brushed the tip of your nose with his with a hum, moving closer until there was no space between you two as you captured his lips in yours, all while trying to manage the whole upside-down situation.

Tom sighed in pure satisfaction to finally feel your lips on his after months of being deprived from it, your touch making him feel like he's floating, which says a lot given the fact that he was already hanging mid-air all while being upside-down.

The kiss didn't last long though, too many prying for you two to cherish the moment. The crowd, on the other hand, cheered in amusement at the extremely cliché but sweet gesture, you and Tom giggling between the kiss at the loud support.

"Okay, I'm actually getting dizzy now." Tom laughed once you pulled away, hand gesturing for you to move just a little bit farther, and when you did, he flipped himself right-side-up with ease. A few guys then rushed on stage to help him with the wires, and once they were off, Tom turned to you with a sweet smile, face coated with wholesome contentment to finally see you in person again.

"You're actually here." You whimpered, fresh tears wetting your cheeks some more once he stood right in front of you.

"Aww darling, come here." Tom cooed with a soft chuckle, arms wrapping around your frame as he held you close to his chest, pressing a sweet kiss on top of your head. You couldn't contain your sobs as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, the smell of his perfume filling you up quickly and it only made your grip around him tighten.

You just miss him so damn much, and to actually have him here on your birthday, to be holding him so close after months, it was making every fiber of your being emotional.

"I haven't missed your birthday, not a single one, ever. Why would I start now?" He whispered against your hair, swaying you from side to side in a comforting manner, a soft sigh coming out of you as you felt your heart grow with even more love for this man.

"I still haven't decided if I hate you or love you for doing this." You giggled with tiny sniffles, pulling away to get a proper look at his handsome face, the face that you'll always be glad to see. Hate because he almost gave you a heart attack and for making you worry about him for being gone for a day, and love because, well, he's here now isn't he?

Tom only shot you a wink. "I'll tell you all about it later." He says, hand reaching down to take the microphone from you.

"Hey everyone, I'm Spider-Man." The crowd roared at that, Tom laughing in pure glee, all proud of his choice of words as he slings his arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side. "I just want to thank you guys for supporting this amazing woman right here. I've been watching the show from the very start and you guys have been incredible."

Tom turned to look at you lovingly, smile coated with delight and adoration, voice layered with nothing but certainty. "I love this woman a lot, so thank you for making her dreams come true and for making her happy."

With just that, you were able to conjure even more tears as you looked at Tom all adoringly with a small pout. The boy stared at you with just as much love, cooing at your reaction as he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

How have you managed to get so lucky?

"Right, I'm done crashing your show so take it away my love." Tom finished as he handed the microphone back to you. Giving you one last warm squeeze and a peck on the lips to match, Tom was then waving goodbye to the audience and disappearing side-stage to watch the rest of the show.

Taking in deep long breaths, you turned to the audience with a laugh. "Okay, wow. Mission Ugly Cry is a success then. I haven't see him in months okay I couldn't help the tears."

"I wasn't expecting that at all as you can probably tell by my reaction. How am I supposed to top that now?" You rubbed your temple in feign worry, the audience cheering you in mere support.

You were still sniffling from all the crying along with your throat being little dry. And you were thankful for waterproof mascara otherwise you would've looked even more horrifying.

"God I'm such a mess, can I have some tissues please?" You asked, looking around the crew for help as you attempted to wipe off the tears with your fingers.

Instead of the staff, Tom ran back out with a box of tissues and a bottle of water in hand, making you shake your head in utter hilarity at how corny he is. You couldn't hold back your laughter when he handed you the box of tissues, pulled a couple pieces and held his fingers under your chin as he wiped your tears for you, all gingerly as if he was retouching your make up. After that, he opened up the water bottle to help you drink, then fixed your hair up jokingly and squeezed your nose playfully right after.

Once he was done with, he gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek, waving one last time at the crowd before returning back to side-stage.

"My new assistant everyone." You joked, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend with a grin you can't seem to wipe off. Tom mirrored your expression as he gave you two thumbs up in support for the last song, and with that you turned back to the crowd with a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Right, let's go out on a high note."

* * *

"Absolutely killed it." Tom praised, engulfing you in a warm embrace the moment you got off stage, a soft thank you coming out of you as you squeezed him back.

On your way back to your dressing room, You kept each other close, his arm slung over your shoulder with yours around his waist as you walked through the hallway.

"I'm not leaving your side by the way. I missed you too damn much and I'm not going to waste any second by being a little far from you." Tom shot you his best puppy dog eyes combined with a cute pout, a sweet giggle escaping your lips that made Tom's heart melt ten times over. "Well, I'm not complaining."

It wasn't that long of a walk from the stage to your dressing room but you had time to kill, so you turned to look at your man with a curios glint in your eyes.

"Tell me how you've managed to pull off this extremely over-the-top surprise? I mean, you could've just showed up in my dressing room and I would've cried just as much." You pointed out. Not that you didn't like what he did, you loved what just happened, every second of it, but you cannot deny that what he did was as extra and cliché as one can be.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle, "I know. But I wanted it to be special, you deserve nothing but. And you've got to admit, dangling upside-down in the middle of the stage during your show, all while dressed as Spider-Man is pretty impressive. Plus, we did the kiss. I'd say it's an amazing birthday surprise."

"It is amazing. I just happen to forget how extra you are sometimes." You teased. "I am, but you love me for it." Tom retorted back with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes with soft laugh.

"Yeah, I do. Thank you so much bub, you always make my birthdays memorable." You sighed, wrapping both your arms around him with a smile full of gratitude. Tom planted another kiss on your forehead, a bright smile on his lips to match yours as he hummed. "Anything for my angel."

"Now, details Holland."

"Right, managed to pull some strings a a week ago and was able to ask few days off, so the whole conflicting schedule wasn't entirely a lie but it wasn't as serious as I made it out to be. Flew out last night right after the shoot. I couldn't handle just lying to you which is why I didn't respond to any of your messages in case I slip up. I'm sorry about that love."

"And then out of nowhere I thought how awesome it would be to pop up as Spider-Man in the middle of your show and do the famous kiss, so I asked Marvel a favor and thank goodness they let me borrow the suit. Called Molly to tell her about my plan, she helped quite a lot. Arrived here earlier this morning, did a test run with the wires and all that while you were still back at the hotel. Changed into the suit to then wait for the time. Oh! And if you actually looked up from your phone earlier down the hall on your way to your get-together, the whole surprise would've been ruined."

You gasped as you smacked his chest lightly. "That was you! I knew something was up." You felt really played, knowing you could've seen him if you did as much as peek up from your phone. But then again, it would've ruined the whole thing, and you really don't want to change anything that has happened today, so you're glad you didn't.

Tom could only laugh at your reaction, giving your pout a sweet peck before continuing. "The video messages were planned a long, long time ago but we made a few edits at the end of my bit to make it dramatic and here we are now."

And just as he said those last words, both of you now stood in front of the door of your dressing room. If there's one thing you always tend to be surprised about Tom, it's his impeccable timing.

"You are something else Thomas." You gushed, referring to today's escapade and just in general. You really are so lucky to have someone like him in your life, so thoughtful, caring, kind and just all around amazing.

You don't really know what came over you but the moment he opened the door to your dressing room and are your way inside, just knowing that you two were finally alone, you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down, crashing your lips on his as you pushed him back against the door, closing it shut in the process.

Tom chuckled lowly at the sudden change in mood, hands taking home on your waist as he relished the taste of your lips, one he's missed so bad.

The thick fabric of his suit was starting to irritate him for he just wants to feel your skin on his fingertips, especially after so long of not having to touch you. It got on Tom's nerves even more when he felt it grow even tighter than it already is.

And when you started to nibble on his bottom lip as your hands inched down his body slowly, Tom groaned, pushing you away gently, just for a little room to breathe. "Darling, it's very uncomfortable, borderline painful when I get hard in this suit, you know that." He grumbled, brown eyes a shade darker as his grip on your waist tightened.

You giggled, recalling all the times you've teased him whenever you came to visit him on set. "Hmm, let's get you out of it and go back to the hotel then."

Tom's bottom lip got caught between his teeth at your suggestion, your insides churning as he looked at you lustfully, a deep rumble erupting from his chest when he said,

"We definitely should. After all, this isn't the only surprise I have in store for you sweetheart."

-:-:-:-:-

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ttttaehyungie · 4 years

Text

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 1

sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘ genre | angst, exes au

☘ summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘ word count | 4k

☘ rating | PG-13

☘ warnings | some fairly heavy angst, breakup

☘ a/n | ok SO I’m finally working on a multi-chap for the first time in forever :o and ofc this is the first series that i’m working on in this blog! alsooo am kinda ashamed to admit that i’ve actually NEVER finished a series ever 🙈🙈 sooo this is a challenge from me @ myself 🤭 so yes come along with me for this ride hahahah and pls kick my butt if i leave this series as another one in the unfinished pile

You can have Manhattan, ‘cause I can’t have you -- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

Pulling your jacket around you a little tighter to keep the bite of the night air at bay and hitching your duffel bag a little higher up your shoulder, you board the bus. The bus conductor asks for your ticket and you let go of it for the first time since you bought it, giving him the flimsy paper that’s now imprinted with the shape of your thumb under the stress of your tight grip as you held onto it like a lifeline. After a quick inspection, he passes it back to you and you take it from him wordlessly.

“Hey.” You look up at the conductor in surprise, gaze finally torn from where it had remained on the ground all this time. “You alright?”

You don’t allow yourself to consider the question lest the tears come and you cause a bigger scene than you already have. With a tight-lipped smile that probably isn’t fooling anyone, you nod at him, and traipse to the back of the bus before he can probe any further.

The comfort of the back corner of the bus brings you the tiniest smidge of relief, especially after you place your duffel bag on the seat next to you, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the bus. Not that there would be many people, if any at all, at such a late timing. Nonetheless, the little bubble created by your makeshift barricade brings you some security as you settle into your chosen seat gingerly, as if you would shatter to pieces if your movements were too rough. Your emotional state sure feels that way, fragile and on the brink of falling apart any time now.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the bus doors finally shut and it begins pulling out of the bay. It carries a sense of finality. You’re really going home. The cityscape, drenched in the black and orange hues of nightfall, goes past as you watch through the window- slowly at first, then becoming a blur as the vehicle picks up in speed. The plans you had for the weekend are now truncated and left behind with the city.

The emptiness hits you once again when the bus pulls onto the freeway and the city sights are completely gone. Only the inky black of the night sky accompanies you now. You are alone. On this bus, yes, but in more ways than that too. You let that fact sink in.

It’s too dangerous to let your thoughts overtake you right now, so you occupy yourself by playing Sudoku puzzles on your phone, which has strategically been placed on airplane mode. The methodical problem-solving that the puzzle requires of you submerges your mind in a sea of numbers. Which is your intention. And before you know it, the bus is slowing down and you look up from your device to the familiar scenery of your hometown. On any other day, it would fill you with warmth, but right now it doesn’t.

Now having arrived at your destination, you gather your belongings and alight from the bus. It’s just a daypack and your duffel bag which is bursting at the seams with how many items you crammed into it. You would have brought a suitcase if you knew, but how were you to predict the events of tonight? Though, you surmise, you should have seen it coming and could have prepared yourself better.

You’re trudging home and you’re maybe ten minutes away when it begins raining. Great. As if this day could get any worse. It makes your clothes stick to you in that cloying way and the chill from the night has you shivering almost violently now. But you plough on home, only focusing on getting one foot in front of the other and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Finally at your front door, it’s a struggle to get the key in the door with how badly your hand is shaking. Whether it’s from the cold or something else, you’re not sure anymore at this point. After countless tries, you finally manage to jam it in and turn it quickly so you can just get into the safety of your home.

The noise that results from the way you throw your duffel bag and daypack down, your rain-soaked jacket quickly following suit to form a messy, wet heap in the middle of the entryway, announces your arrival. Hoseok pops his head out from the archway that leads to the living room, the sounds probably interrupting his late-night Netflix binge.

“____?” You can hear the concern in his voice, and you refuse to look at him, instead focusing on wrenching your sodden shoes off of your tired feet. “Where’s Joonie?”

The mention of his name causes something like a switch to flip in you. Your brain finally, finally catches up with reality, and the numbness you lulled yourself into for the past few hours dissipates just like the pricking of a balloon. It leaves you gasping in pain, the way the emotions suddenly come flooding through you. The hurt viciously demands to be felt.

With a shaky exhale, you look Hoseok in the eye. The gravity of tonight’s events finally cements itself in your brain and the tears you’d been holding back come spilling out uncontrollably as you mumble your next words out brokenly.

“We broke up.”

It’s been weeks since you and Namjoon broke up. The constant cloud of desolation that plagued your every waking moment in the immediate aftermath of the breakup has finally eased up somewhat.

Being a high school senior turned out to be a lifebuoy in some ways, giving you solid things to cling onto in the midst of your emotions of loss and confusion. It’s not healthy, you know, but the academic content provided a sense of constancy that you sorely needed and the rigor of it all kept your mind from wandering too far into the depths of your sorrow.

Yet you knew this could only go on for so long. At some point, these emotions will eat you up from the inside out if not acknowledged and sorted out. Pain is just like that, it will gnaw at you with subtlety but with certainty. Repressing the feelings is just simply unsustainable.

You’re really lucky to have an older brother like Hoseok. That first night, when you finally broke down and let the tears turn into sobs that wracked through your entire being, he’d quickly gathered you up into his arms and had given you a shoulder to cry on. God knows how long you spent in that state bawling seemingly endlessly, but Hoseok had let you just get it all out without asking any questions, the immensity of his patience and quiet strength of his presence lending you a pillar of support that you desperately needed at the time. Later that night, when you were showered and tucked in warm under the covers, you watched through puffy eyes as he unpacked your belongings from your duffel bag and carefully wiped them dry or chucked them into the laundry basket as was appropriate.

When he reached for your daypack, you stopped him. You were barely able to croak out your opposition, your throat raw and wrecked from the earlier barrage of emotions. Still, Hoseok caught it, and nodded empathetically. He respected your wishes for privacy and only wiped the exterior of your daypack down before leaving it in the corner of your room.

And in the corner it remained. Aside from your absolute necessities, which was really just your keys and your wallet, you’d procrastinated unpacking your daypack. Till now, that is.

Not that there was much to unpack anyway. Most of the possessions you’d retrieved from Namjoon’s dorm room that night had been hastily dumped into your duffel bag in the single-minded mission to get out of there as soon as possible. You know exactly what items remain in the daypack- a bottle of water, a pair of shades, some chapstick, surprise tickets you’d bought online to a movie from that fateful weekend that went unused, and an envelope tucked away safely in the inner pocket of the bag.

The daypack and its contents weighed on your mind the same way it sat in the corner of your room- silent, untouched, yet unbudging. It’s plain silly how afraid you’ve been to confront these items, items that are inanimate and void of meaning apart from what you yourself have ascribed to them. In an attempt to hold off the full brunt of your misery, somehow you’d deluded yourself into thinking that leaving the daypack as it is would preserve things as they once were. You lived in self-denial, as if the breakup had not happened. As if the weekend trip just had not taken place at all, and was waiting to happen instead. The daypack was waiting for you to sling it over your shoulders as you head jovially out the door to the city and to the arms of your boyfriend.

But no. You heave out a sigh. Things have changed. You and Namjoon are no longer together. Holding onto a delusion is ridiculous, and you need to move on. And the first step to doing that is to get rid of this centerpiece that your fantasy revolves around.

The items in the bag get dumped onto the carpeted ground of your room unceremoniously as you unzip the daypack, turn it upside down, and shake out the contents. Whatever mystique you’ve built up around these simple items is now shattered as they lay scattered on the floor. The shades and chapstick return to your dressing table, the bottle of water and expired movie tickets get dumped out. And the envelope… you throw it into your desk drawer and slam it shut before the temptation to tear it open overtakes you.

That was the first of many letters that were written, but never got sent.

You never intended to make it a thing. It just… happened one day. Staying focused on school and college applications could only provide so much distraction from the whirling emotions bottled up inside you. No matter how tightly you attempted to keep a lid on it, wistful nostalgia still crept up uninvited.

And naturally so. This neighborhood, your high school, heck even your own house is filled with the ghost of the memory of him. Namjoon had been a significant presence in your life before he was even really yours. You still remember the day Hoseok brought his newfound friend home, Namjoon’s lips pressed tightly together in his attempts to keep his sniffles and tears in, his knees scraped, bruised, and bleeding from what looked like a pretty hard fall on the playground.

“Mum!” Hoseok had called out. “I need band aids!”

“Hello,” Namjoon mumbled when your mum came hurrying out of the kitchen to see what was wrong. “Sorry to be a bother.”

Namjoon had always been a klutz, but it was his clumsiness that had birthed the close friendship between him and Hoseok. After one too many accidents on the playground, Namjoon had been too scared to go home to face the inevitable reprimanding that would come. Hoseok had offered to patch him up at yours instead, and the camaraderie that arose from that incident had sealed their friendship as an unbreakable one. Unfortunately, as big as Hoseok’s heart was, his little seven-year-old hands were not the gentlest. From your spot at the top of the staircase, peering through the grills, you saw how Namjoon winced at Hoseok dabbing antiseptic on his knees, and you came bounding down the steps to rescue the stranger that sat on your family’s sofa and that had somehow wormed his way into a soft spot in your heart with his teary pout.

“Hoseok,” you demanded, your tiny hand outstretched and waiting, voice tinged with petulance. “Give me.”

Hoseok relinquished the first aid items to you and watched as you cleaned his new friend up, your brow furrowed in careful focus, little hands fumbling but your touch delicate. After you applied the twin band aids on both of Namjoon’s knees with all the meticulousness that a five-year-old could muster up, you patted his thigh and smiled at him.

“All done!” you declared. And you’d never forget the sight of his dimpled smile beaming up at you in response.

If only you could. You shake your head, as if it would shake the memories away. The paper before you on your desk remains as blank as it was twenty minutes ago when you sat down to get started on revision. But having known Namjoon for over a decade made it too easy for you to just get swept away by the deluge of memories of him. You tried to keep it in, but it kept leaking out. And perhaps that’s what you need- to just let it out.

The first touch of the pen to paper has you pausing, wondering how you were even supposed to start. But the moment you begin- Dear Namjoon, - everything comes spilling out in prose. Hardly having to pause what with the way your thoughts just keep flooding out onto the paper, the inked words flowing out in streams, you finally let go of the firm grip you’d kept on your feelings up till now and express your frustration, your loss, your confusion all out in one huge cathartic spew. You write till you feel emotionally dry, but in a satisfying way, chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. But as your ballpoint pen swirls the complimentary closing- Sincerely Yours- you can’t help but laugh at the sardonic humor embedded in it. The sincerity in your words is irrefutable. But you’re no longer his.

Folding it up and sealing it away in an envelope, you chuck the letter into your desk drawer where it joins its predecessor. Now with a clearer mind, and a renewed focus and vigor, you’re finally able to set to work on the mountain of revision materials that await you.

The first letter was a gushing myriad of feelings. But the subsequent letters solidified into one obviously discernible emotion- anger.

Once you came to terms with the fact that he’s not coming back, and that he basically threw away the relationship, it had you boiling mad. How much had you sacrificed for this relationship?! You’d basically shuttled back and forth between your hometown and the city almost every other weekend to visit him on campus, juggling your family and your grades and your friends back home and college applications just to make your long-distance relationship work. And how did he repay your efforts? By withdrawing from you and refusing to talk things out despite your gentle, persistent probing. You’d heard that he’d been in a slump and confused about the future- Hoseok, while his best friend, was your brother after all- but you’d never imagined he’d be confused about you.

And so you took your rage out on paper once again, your words harsh as you wrote candidly. It’s not like he’d ever get to see it anyway.

But anger is tiring. After penning a few letters full of scathing lines you’d never have the guts to actually spit out in person, your wrath was quelled and soon gave way to grief.

In the same way with your anger, you chose not to deny your sadness, but leaned into it instead. The end of your relationship was something worth mourning, you decided, and you let yourself embrace the sorrow fully and deeply. It was especially difficult knowing that he was still in contact with Hoseok, while you had been completely cut out of his life. But you can’t blame either of them- you can’t demand that they revoke their friendship over what happened between you and Namjoon, nor would you ever desire for that to happen. Hoseok, on his part, managed it to the best he could, taking his phone calls in a room separate from you. But you can’t control the wave of dejection that runs through you whenever you spy Namjoon’s name on his caller ID.

You’re used to the routine by now. Whenever the emotions get too overwhelming, whenever there’s just too much that you want to say to him but that you can’t, you engage in the therapeutic act of writing your letters. Then you seal them up, and chuck them away, out of sight and out of mind. The grief gets easier to deal with too, especially with the excitement of receiving college acceptance letters and your high school graduation date that’s drawing closer and closer.

Of course, that in itself brings its own strand of sadness too, as you imagine having to separate from your friends and family and leave your childhood home behind. But the notion of getting to carve out the path to your future leaves a giddy anticipation that overshadows all other feelings.

And in that strange, paradoxical way that time seems to pass in- every hour ticking by so slowly, but the weeks whizzing by in the blink of an eye- it’s just as your five-year-old self had once proclaimed, “All done!”

Your life now packed into boxes that are piled into the car, one last check of your room to ensure that nothing important is left behind, a final look at the place you called home for all your life up to now, and you’re off to college. As you watch the sight of your neighborhood through the rearview mirror pull further and further away till it disappears entirely, you know you’re leaving tons of memories behind. Memories of Namjoon, yes, but also memories of your growing up years with your family and friends who have made you into who you are today, able to venture out and face the world with courage and confidence.

Maybe it’s that experience of individuation that has you finally accepting it. No more whirlpool of emotions, no more anger, no more grief, no more emptiness. Just peace. You’re single, separated from Namjoon. And you’re ready to take on the world and live your life like the boss woman you are.

“____,” Hoseok wails, pouting as he approaches you with outstretched arms. You barrel into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace and stowing it away for the days ahead. His eyes rove over you as he holds you at arms length so he can take you in for the last time in a while. He sighs. “My baby sister is all grown up and going to college and away from me.”

You laugh. “I’m still in the country, Hoseokie, it’s not like I’m halfway across the world. You can come and visit anytime.”

“But you’ve never lived further than a minute’s walk from my room. How am I supposed to deal with you being hours away from me now?”

“You’ll get over it soon, you big baby.” You duck out under his arms and slap his butt with the playful affection that’s always characterized your sibling relationship. Your parents are waiting by the door of your dorm room and you go over to give them their share of goodbye hugs.

“Thank you for all the help with moving and unpacking today,” you say, voice muffled as you speak into your dad’s chest. He strokes your head and you lean into his touch and savor it.

“You’ve got one more box there, you sure you don’t want our help with that?”

“No, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

It gets increasingly hard to hold the tears back and the difficulty only spikes tenfold when you turn to see your mum holding back tears of her own. Her perfume and her own natural scent that lies underneath that that you inhale as you hide your face in her neck while the two of you hug very nearly pushes you over the brink. But you manage. Knowing your family, it’s a given that someone will shed tears at some point, and you’re all (barely) holding it together for each other.

Hoseok comes up to hug you from behind so that you’re now sandwiched between him and your mum, which only prompts your dad to envelop all of you in his arms too.

“If it ever doesn’t work out- not saying that it won’t, because you’re super smart and the most driven kid I’ve ever known- but just, IF ever,” Hoseok rambles into your hair, “you can always come home and teach at the dance studio with me, ok?”

“Thanks Hoseokie. But you know I have two left feet, so I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“They’ll make an exception for you. I’ll make them make an exception for you.”

You laugh and extricate yourself from the group hug through a series of wiggles that only provides further proof of why you’ll never make it as a dance instructor the way your brother has.

“Ok, it’s getting late and you guys still have a long drive ahead of you.” You shoo them out of your room. After your final goodbyes, you return to your room quickly, knowing that the sight of their figures leaving would be unbearable.

Needing a distraction, you busy yourself with unpacking your last box of belongings. It’s nothing too difficult- your family had spent the afternoon helping you with the major to-dos like wiping things down and setting up your larger decor and lighting fixtures (read: copious amounts of fairy lights strung everywhere) just the way you liked it. All that remains now are some photos with friends, the few pieces of jewelry you owned, your humble make-up collection... and a shoe box stuffed full of letters that you didn’t dare to leave back at home where it would be at risk of being discovered by prying eyes in your absence.

Finding a place for your various items was a simple task to complete. Within ten minutes you were done unpacking, washed up, and tucked into bed for your first night ever living apart from your family. You roll over onto your side- your sleeping environment may be different, but your side-sleeper habits will never change.

As you peer out the window and take in the campus sights that seem foreign now but that you know will become familiar in time, you’re struck with a funny thought. What a turn of events your life has taken.

This is not the dorm room nor the campus you thought you’d be attending all those months ago when you were making your way down to the city. You’d embarked on that trip in gleeful anticipation at being able to deliver the good news to Namjoon, only to have that trip abruptly cut short, and the news remained in an envelope that never got to its intended recipient.

That weekend triggered a rerouting of your life, setting you on a new path that had brought you here to this campus instead. Not that you regret it, or feel like you settled for something less, not at all. You’re at peace with your decisions. It’s just an intriguing thought that things could have turned out so differently if that one weekend hadn’t happened, is all.

On impulse, you clamber out of bed to retrieve the shoe box that you’d shoved into the corner of your closet. Rifling through the stack- wait, did you really write this many letters?- you finally find the envelope you’re looking for.

Tearing it open gingerly, you pull out the sheets of paper contained within. It’s a rueful kind of feeling that washes over you as you skim over the words that you’d written back in what feels like an entire lifetime ago. The excitement you had felt at the prospect of the long-distance aspect of your relationship finally coming to an end after two long years was blatant in your letter.

But when it became obvious that Namjoon had gotten tired of trying to make things work, what you’d initially thought of as the golden ticket to saving your relationship turned out to be fool’s gold instead. You pull up the second sheet of paper- a photocopy of your acceptance letter to the same college your then boyfriend was attending- and you can’t help the ‘what if’s that fill your mind as you run your thumb over the college emblem.

Guess your dreams of a future where you lived in the city and where Namjoon was still in your life would remain just that- a dream.

Or so your naive college self believed.

#btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #btswritersguild #ficswithluv #bts fic #bts angst #bts exes au #bts x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon angst #namjoon exes au #namjoon x reader #knj fic #knj angst #knj exes au #knj x reader

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daisy-day-dreams · 3 years

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A/N: Hey everyone I hope you’re having a great day! I know it’s been a while but I’m back! Hopefully for a while now lol I hope you enjoy the newest update for Little Lies! Thank you so much for reading ❤️

Little Lies Masterlist

*gif not mine*

Kozik proudly walked into the venue with Annie on his arm. He wasn’t going to lie, he loved the jealous looks of all the men around them. He relished even more in being able to rub it in Tig’s face. He was a lucky guy and he knew it. Annie was a catch and a hell of a damn good friend. He led her to their seats, taking their place next to Juice. Kozik strategically sat between the two.

Gemma turned around reaching over the chair to squeeze Annie’s knee. “You look, hot baby.”

“So do you ma.” Annie gave her a wink in return.

Gemma grinned, “See this is why I keep you around.”

Juice tuned out the two as they began chatting. Annie was completely ignoring him anyway, he could practically feel the icy cold energy radiating off her towards him. He anxiously looked around watching the crowd, waiting for any glimpse of Delilah. His leg shook nervously. He wasn’t sure what to expect from her, if she was going to be just as cold as Annie towards him or not but he had to talk to her. He didn’t give a shit what Annie wanted.

Once everyone got seated the music began playing as the ceremony officially started. Juice still hadn’t seen Delilah yet. The pit was growing in his stomach as the first part of the wedding party came walking down the aisle leading the way before the bride’s grand entrance. Juice felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him once he finally saw her. There she was looking beautiful as ever in her blue dress as she walked down the aisle on Jax’s arm.

He couldn’t even fully process every emotion he was feeling as the ugly green monster growing inside him outweighed the rest. Seeing Delilah with Jax, seeing the way Jax looked at her, having to watch as she laughed at whatever he had whispered in her ear as they walked past, it was too much and just pissed him off.

She wasn’t his anymore he knew that but he was still a little bit hers. It hurt to think of the possibility of her choosing Jax, of having to stand by and watch as his brother made a life with his girl. The anxious thoughts began spiraling uncontrollably in his mind.

The ceremony was beautiful. The couple finished with the saying of their vows, finishing with the traditional vows of the MC from Opie to Lyla. Every member of the Sons joined in before hooting and hollering, cheering as the bride and groom were pronounced man and wife.

As the reception was now in full swing the dance floor was filled with people dancing along to the live band’s music. As well as the dance floor was full the tables were also packed with the various guests. Most of the groups kept to themselves not completely mingling with the others.

Annie and Delilah sat at the bride and groom’s table at the front. They had finished their meals and were now just talking with Gemma, Lyla, and Unser. Opie, Jax, and Clay had all stepped away from them a while before.

“You never mentioned that you two knew our Juice.” Gemma brought up giving Delilah and Annie a look. She had been waiting to confront the two about it, “Now why is that?”

Delilah glanced behind Gemma to where Juice was sitting with Chibs and Happy. “Because we don’t know him.” She kept her glance quick as not to linger too long before looking back to Gemma. “We know Juan, we don’t know Juice.” And that was true, neither one of them knew the man that sat just a few feet away. They only knew the boy who had left them all those years ago.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Gemma replied looking directly at Delilah. She had never seen any woman’s presence get under Juice’s skin like knowing about hers had done. “He’s a good kid. I’m sure there’s still a lot more left of who you knew in there than you think.”

As the night went on the band started picking up. The girls had all gathered onto the dance floor. They bumped and grind against each other laughing, just having the time of their lives. Delilah twirled Lyla around as Annie set her sights on Gemma beckoning her closer to her. She wiggled her ass towards Gemma earning a hard smack to it causing her to let out a shriek catching the other two’s attention and causing all the women to break out in even more laughter.

They danced through the next few songs Gemma calling it quits just a song before. They were really wearing themselves out but at the same time didn’t care. The song came to end with a short pause before the band began playing again, this time with a slower song starting What A Wonderful World at the bride’s request.

“I need another drink,” Annie told Delilah as they headed off the dance floor. “Do you want a water or anything?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I’m just going to head over to the bathroom and then I’ll be right back.” She told her, “I’ll meet you back at the table.”

Lyla could be heard calling Opie to come dance with her from behind them. The sisters parted ways, Annie passing right past the table where Jax, Clay, Tig, and Kozik were now talking to one of the Russians. Jax couldn’t help himself as he watched her walk by his eyes raking over her body in that tight red dress that left little to the imagination.

“I’ll be right back boys,” he said standing up. “Don’t get started without me.” He made eye contact with Clay getting a nod before he stepped away catching up quickly with Annie.

Jax wasn’t the only one to see the girls split up or the only one wanting to take advantage of a little one on one. Juice had to talk to Delilah, he’d been waiting for a moment where he could get her alone. Finding one where Annie wasn’t by her side proved to be difficult. This was his chance and probably his only one before he had to head off with the others to finish business.

“Hey,” he greeted her once she stepped out and started heading back towards the party.

“Hey,” she gave him a small smile. Her heart sped up in her chest as they were now faced to face. They were completely alone for the first time now and she didn’t know what to say or how to feel. It was so different now that they were here in the moment than she could have ever imagined.

“Can we talk?”

“Of course we can. I have a million questions.” She admitted.

“Yeah, me too.” Juice stuck his hands in his pockets kicking at the dirt. He didn’t think he could get past the awkward small talk first, the how have you beens, he needed to know. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Delilah felt the panic rise in her. “Tell you what?”

“You know what,” he didn’t mean for it to sound snappy. He watched as her face hardened and immediately regretted his tone. “I’m sorry,” he rubbed at the back of his neck. This was not how he wanted this conversation to go. He just was still processing everything himself, it was a huge blow just as Annie intended. “I just have to know D. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

Delilah let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Annie told you?”

“You should have told me.”

“This isn’t the place,” Her eyes softened as they met his. Everything was flooding back to her, every feeling and every memory. It was all just too much to process here. “Can we talk somewhere else? Somewhere more private?”

Juice nodded. She was right this wasn’t the place and there wasn’t enough time. “Yeah, I think that would be best. Can you come over to my place later?” He offered.

“Juice!” Happy’s raspy voice called out coming up behind Delilah. “It’s time to go man.”

Juice new better than to argue with Hap. They had club business afterall and he couldn’t keep them waiting. “I’m coming,” he told him before turning back to Delilah. “I’ll call you later, then we can meet up.”

Jax settled next to Annie at the bar as she ordered herself a drink. She leaned on the bar as she watched as the bartender mixed up her cocktail. “Lovely night isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jax agreed. “It’ll definitely be a night to remember.”

“They’re really great together.” She motioned to the couple slow dancing with a smile on her face.

“They do make a great pair.” Jax grinned watching his best friend sway to the music as his new bride hung onto him.

“The party seems to be really dying down.” She added. Most of the guests had scattered, the place getting more vacant by the minute it seemed. She scanned the venue for Delilah feeling relieved once she finally spotted her back at the table with Chucky, Gemma, and Unser. She had plenty of company and shouldn’t miss her if she were to head out earlier. She turned to Jax with a smirk. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Straight to the point, Jax thought, he really loved this woman. “There’s nothing I’d love more,” he smirked before licking his lips letting his eyes wander some more before he looked back over her shoulder where Clay was waiting for him reminding him he couldn’t get out of there just yet.

Annie followed his gaze back to Clay and the other man, noticing his expression became more serious, angry almost.“I sense there’s a but coming.”

“But,” he continued, the Teller smirk returned to his face as if it never left. “I have a little business to take care of first, shouldn’t take long. If you’re willing to wait darlin’ then I’m all yours.”

“I might be willing to wait,” the bartender handed her the drink which she thanked him for before taking a generous drink. “But I won’t wait forever, Teller.” She grabbed at his kutte pulling him closer so she could get right next to his ear.“So if you’re wanting a little piece of all this I suggest you better hurry.” She smoothed over his kutte once she pulled away with a smirk, “Tik tok, darlin’” She said before blowing him a kiss as she walked away.

Little Lies Taglist: @carlaangel86 @starrynite7114 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @spnaquakindgdom @witching-hour @brithedemonspawn @drabbles-mc @gemini0410 @mayans-sauce @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @toni9 @vsfavs @queenbeered @multiyfandomgirl40

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#Little Lies #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy x oc #jax teller x oc #juice ortiz x oc #juice x delilah #jax x annie

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cicada-bones · 4 years

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The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 29: Fireheart

So apparently, I am on a roll, and this is yall's lucky weekend. Here ya go, another chapter. Just a warning, it made me cry, but that might be just because I’m an idiot. Enjoy!

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Days passed in the flurry of preparation, filled with long hours, hard work, meetings, decisions, disagreements, and anxiety.

Rowan had awakened the next morning and immediately sought out a courier, requesting that they deliver his letters with as much haste as could be possible. Three he sent to Doranelle, where last he heard Gavriel, Fenrys, and Connall were still posted.

The other two he had far less specific information to provide. Rowan knew that both Vaughn and Lorcan were somewhere to the southwest, each on their way back to the capital. Lorcan had left several weeks before, at the conclusion of the conflict with the Erriagti people, and he would likely be slowly making his way up through the south, following the rivers.

Rowan was even less sure about Vaughn. He had received word that the group of spying royals had relieved him of duty, approximately a week previous. But Rowan didn’t know exactly where Vaughn had been, nor how far he had to travel before he would return to more familiar lands – let alone the path the male would take.

Rowan knew that it was a waste of time and energy to worry, that he had done what he could, and they would either answer his call, or they wouldn’t. But still, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t keep his doubts at bay.

Instead, he tried to distract himself with work. Which proved fairly effective – he doubted that over the next few days anyone in the fortress would run out of things to do.

In addition to the normal activities of the fortress, and their other preparations for the coming battle, the armory needed to be inventoried, and replenished. Supplies needed to be gathered, weapons sharpened, and armor fitted. Food needed to be prepared in case of siege, and livestock needed to be gathered and sheltered.

Rowan did all that and more, organizing rotations and separating everyone in the fortress into groups to set traps in shifts throughout the day. More pits were dug, snares set, and traps laid.

Aelin took it upon herself to help train those in the fortress who were more unfamiliar with combat, leading a series of lessons in the mornings and afternoons.

She took them through motion after motion, carefully adjusting positions and providing sound advice. Her voice never faltered, her limbs moving with grace and power – never belying any fear or doubt.

She looked like a leader. Like a queen.

And it appeared in other places as well. A brush across a young female’s newly fitted armor, adjusting it to fit. A small, warm smile given to an older male, encouraging him to be stronger, surer in his movements. Rushing over to help an overwhelmed guard carry sacks of feed into a storage space. The surety in her voice when she made suggestions, adjustments to strategy, her eyes quick and her shoulders strong.

She spoke with authority, but without being condescending or demeaning. She made others listen, and she commanded respect, and she did so not because of her name and title, and not because of her magic, but because of her.

It was a power that Rowan hadn’t known she possessed, and one that he knew was only going to grow in strength as she came into her own.

Perhaps the gods had been planning more with the deaths of her family than just the takeover of one kingdom by another. Perhaps they were creating a champion. Her experiences, while horrific, would significantly aid her in her reign.

A queen that personally understood the evils of slavery? The cost of poverty? Who knew the thoughts and wishes of all, from the slums to the marketplace to the palace? Such a thing was invaluable.

Rowan only wished he would be there to see it.

Malakai and the other leaders began to treat her differently, with a hushed respect, and warmth in their eyes. Several of them, including Malakai and Emrys, had known that she was a princess before now, and they hadn’t let it change the way they treated her. But now, with grace and authority dressing her every movement, they began to see what she really was – who she could really be.

Rowan wondered if Aelin was starting to see it as well, was starting to realize that she was becoming the leader her parents had wanted her to be. Rowan certainly saw it, and so did the others. But he didn’t say anything to her, didn’t want to bring up anything that might damage this delicate thing that was just sprouting between them.

The pair of them worked each day, from dawn till midnight, until their muscles ached, and they were about to drop. Then they collapsed into bed together, where Rowan couldn’t help but lean his body as close to hers as he dared. Where they would often wake up entangled in each other’s arms.

Rowan didn’t know if Aelin touched him out of stress, or anxiety, or the simple desire to feel another’s skin. To remind herself that she was alive. He didn’t know if it was out of loneliness, or because she missed her lover from across the sea. He didn’t know if it was because she was starting to feel those same, tangled emotions that he was realizing were starting to grow in his chest.

They didn’t say anything about it. Only woke together each morning, with the white light of day passing into their small haven, and bringing the outside world along with it. Then arose in silence, and started the day’s work.

Rowan found he spent much of his time with Malakai, planning and organizing and delegating. And he also found that the old male was not only a very competent and shrewd commander, but that the two of them worked well together. As the days passed, he felt Malakai shift, slowly becoming more and more comfortable in Rowan’s presence. Felt the old male lose much of that halting, formal respect, and watched it grow into a more sincere, genuine trust.

By the end of the third day after he and Aelin had returned from their overnight trip, Rowan and Malakai found that they could speak openly and agreeably with each other. It was nice, despite everything, to have earned the old male’s trust, after all this time.

That afternoon, Rowan assembled the eight captains, along with Aelin and Malakai, around a table in the dining hall for a meeting.

“Bas’s scouting team reported that the creatures look like they’re readying to move in a few days,” he said, pointing to a map. “Are the first and second miles of traps almost done?” The captains gave their confirmation. “Good. Tomorrow, I want your men preparing the next few miles, too.”

Rowan led them through the meeting, carefully keeping track of all the arms and legs of their plan. He made sure to emanate a careful steadiness, made sure to use each of the demi-Fae’s names when he addressed them, and he was encouraged by the determination he sensed radiating from them, strong enough that it outweighed the anxiety.

Rowan knew exactly what fear did to people, knew that fear could turn a winning battle into a losing one. So, he did the only thing he could for them – mastered his fear until it was almost entirely gone; wrapped up in cold resolve and ruthlessness.

This time however, the fear was different.

Rowan hadn’t been afraid of dying since he had lost Lyria, hadn’t had anything in life that he had been afraid to lose. His fear before battle for the past two centuries had just been a body’s uncontrollable reaction to danger. A fear that barely registered underneath the walls of ice within him.

Now he feared for another. He feared for Aelin.

Throughout all his planning, all his worries and organization, Rowan had been thinking of ways to keep her safe. In the back of his mind, he swam through possibilities and ideas, the ordinary and the outlandish alike, trying to find a way to ensure that she would walk away from this conflict, unharmed.

The meeting ended, and the captains walked out wearily, going to fulfill the various tasks Rowan had assigned them. He turned to Aelin, wanting to tell her to leave, to flee, to escape before this doom found them. He knew he wouldn’t, knew she wouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop the wanting nonetheless.

Aelin only stared at him, not seeming to notice that everyone had left. She must be completely exhausted. “Get some sleep. You’re no use to me completely dazed.”

“Sorry.” She rubbed at her eyes, and Rowan just looked back at her, waiting, seeing the words on her face.

They had never struggled to communicate, never struggled to understand what the other meant, what they wanted. At least not after those first few shameful weeks. Working with her was effortless, and there was no judgment, no need to explain himself. It was even easier working with her than it was with Lorcan, or Gavriel.

Shame and regret flooded through him. He had wasted so much time. Time spent hating her, and brawling, and wallowing. And now he had so little left.

But she was still looking at him. Rowan frowned. “Just say it.”

Her words came slowly. “We can handle the mortal soldiers, but those creatures and Narrok…” She paused, examining a map on the table between them. “If we had Fae warriors – like your companion who came to receive his tattoo – or all five of your cadre, even, it could turn the tide.” Her tone was careful, hesitant. She traced the line of mountains that separated these lands from the immortal ones beyond. “But you have not sent for them. Why?”

Rowan hesitated, unsure. “You know why.”

“Would Maeve order you home out of spite for the demi-Fae?”

“For a few reasons, I think.”

“And this is the person you chose to serve.” Her voice was bitter, mocking.

Rowan’s response was level, controlled. “I knew what I was doing when I drank her blood to seal the oath.”

Aelin’s eyes darkened, her lips pursing together. Her scent filled with some strange, repulsive odor. Like spoiled meat. “Then let’s hope Wendlyn’s reinforcements get here quickly.”

She turned to leave, but Rowan gipped her wrist, halting her retreat. Unwilling to let their conversation end on such a note. “Don’t do that,” he said, searching for the right words. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“With that…disgust.” He found the name for that thing in her scent.

“I’m not – ”

Rowan just gave her a sharp look, cutting her off. She sighed. “This…all this, Rowan…” She waved a hand to the map, to the doors the demi-Fae had passed through, to the sounds of people readying their supplies and defenses in the courtyard. “For whatever it’s worth, all of this just proves that she doesn’t deserve you. I think you know that, too.”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, and he looked away before she could read his face. “That isn’t your concern.”

Her words were soft and sad. “I know. But I thought you should still hear it.”

When he didn’t respond, she slowly walked out of the dining hall, her light footsteps pounding in his eardrums.

Rowan leaned over the table, his shoulders hunched and his hands braced against the surface, still looking at the map of the lands surrounding Mistward. But he didn’t see it, not really.

He couldn’t tell her the truth – that he knew who Maeve was, that he had known for centuries, and that he had hidden that truth from himself as best he could. To endure.

He couldn’t tell her that if he allowed himself to want, if he allowed himself to let go of the icy wall he maintained over his heart, he would want to stay with her. To join her when she returned to Adarlan. To be by her side, guarding her back.

But he had no way to break his oath to Maeve, no way to turn back time and prevent himself from taking it, to force himself to wait, to hold out for something infinitely better.

For now he knew he truly regretted taking the oath. Regretted it with every fiber of his being. Knew that he would do anything to take it back, would suffer any torture, would endure any pain.

Just so he wouldn’t have to watch her leave him, and know that he would never see her again. She was his mirror, his equal, his only true friend – someone who understood him as well, better, than he did himself. Someone who saw all of the dark, broken parts of him, and did not look away.

And he was going to lose her.

The future was murky, no one knew how the coming conflicts were going to play out, but Rowan knew that someday, perhaps very soon, Aelin would have to face her enemies in the west, and either be destroyed, or take back her crown. Either outcome meant the same thing for him. She would be queen, or dead, and he would still be here, serving Maeve, until Erilea was consumed by the sun.

He would have to wait, to sit in Doranelle while Aelin fought against an entire nation, completely alone.

Rowan knew that he would fight against the oath with everything he had, would fight it until he took his last breath. But he knew it would be in vain.

···

The following day passed much the same as the three previous. Though as their preparations escalated, tensions in the fortress began to mount, edging towards a breaking point.

Aelin concluded her final sparring lesson of the day, and returned to their rooms to wash her face and bandage a burn on her forearm, while Rowan headed to the kitchens to check in on Emrys and Malakai, seeking answers to some trivial question.

But the second he entered the small space, the words crumbled on his lips, his request immediately forgotten.

Emrys was in his mate’s arms, tears silently streaming down his face while Malakai soothingly rubbed his back. Shock and grief permeated the room, and Rowan could feel the horror spreading through the fortress, as whatever news they had received began to disperse.

Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

Rowan’s limbs felt like lead as he slowly approached the distraught pair, a wave of panic spilling over all the walls he had created to contain it. His breaths were shallow in his chest.

At the sound of his approach, Malaki and Emrys broke apart and turned their heads towards him. Rowan soundlessly entreated them for answers, unable to speak for the roaring in his head, screaming for Aelin to be by his side, to know she was safe.

Malakai answered his unspoken question, “The slaves. The slaves in Calaculla and Endovier…have all been executed.”

His heart dropped like a stone, even as relief flooded through his body. The news wasn’t of their imminent demise, but of a disaster of a completely different kind.

Malakai was still speaking, giving Rowan the details – the hows and whys. Rowan heard him, but he wasn’t really listening. All his thoughts had turned to the girl, to the princess who had once been a slave. The woman who had sworn to Rowan that she would someday free all those poor, dead, slaves.

His limbs felt disconnected to his body.

A sea of guilt that was not his own stretched before him, and he saw the pain this would cause her. The agony and the remorse. Rowan wondered for a moment if the Adarlanian king hadn’t somehow known what he was doing, if he hadn’t done it on purpose. To make his enemy writhe.

And then Rowan heard footsteps on the stairs at his back, and tasted her fiery scent. He breathed, and steeled himself, turning to face her.

Aelin approached them, full of grim anticipation. Her scent was filled with barely-smothered fear but her face was a mask of cold determination.

As she beheld the scene before her – the grief in the room, the shock and horror Rowan knew was on his face – she paled even further, her eyes widening and her scent becoming thick with copper.

Rowan’s arms hung slack at his sides, his fingers clenching and unclenching. He could do this; he could get through this. He wouldn’t make this any worse for her.

Aelin almost seemed to take a step back, as if to try to avoid this, to evade the doom he held in wait for her.

Rowan took a step toward her – one step, and that was all it took before she began shaking her head, before she lifted her hands in front of her as if to push him away.

“Please,” she said, and her voice broke. “Please.”

Rowan kept approaching, knowing that he couldn’t avoid this, knowing that he had to keep it together, had to bear as much of this burden for her as he could.

He stopped within reach but did not touch her.

He swallowed once. Twice. “There was…there was an uprising at the Calaculla labor camp.” Another shallow breath. “After Princess Nehemia was assassinated, they say a slave girl killed her overseer and sparked an uprising. The slaves seized the camp.” Aelin’s eyes were blank, the gold frozen solid. “The King of Adarlan sent two legions to get the slaves under control. And they killed them all.”

“The slaves killed his legions?” The hope in her eyes nearly struck him to the ground. He breathed once, trying to calm himself, and grasped her hand as gently as he could.

She almost flinched at his touch.

“No. The soldiers killed every slave in Calaculla.” He could see the words twist in her, gutting her like a knife.

But she was still in denial. “There are thousands of people enslaved in Calaculla.”

Rowan nodded, the weight of that death settling on his shoulders like smothering blanket. But still – she didn’t know the whole truth, only half.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to master himself, forcing himself to grit and bear it, to bear causing her this agony.

She breathed, “Endovier?” It was a fool’s plea.

Slowly, so slowly, Rowan shook his head. “Once he got word of the uprising in Eyllwe, the King of Adarlan sent two other legions north. None were spared in Endovier.”

Her eyes went dark, and she stared but did not see. Her knees began to buckle and he gripped her arms as if he could keep her from falling into the abyss.

Aelin’s face was utterly blank, wiped clean of every thought. She breathed in quick, panicked gasps. He could almost hear the wailing echoing behind her eyes. And his heart broke.

“Aelin,” he whispered, too softly for others to hear, letting all his emotion, all his tenderness and care, reveal itself in that short word.

But at the sound of it, at the sound of her name on his lips, Aelin tore off his grip and was running out the kitchen door. Running across the courtyard, her feet pounding over the cobblestones. Running through the wooden gate, and out of his sight.

Rowan’s arms were still held out, but she was gone.

Her name.

He had known what that name meant to her, a connection to her past, the identity she had lost, that had been taken from her. And he had said it anyways. He had reminded her of her guilt, the responsibility she felt to protect all who had been connected to the country she had been born to lead. Aelin, the name of the person who had been promised to the world to protect the defenseless.

Guilt coursed through him as he stood, making to follow her out of the fortress. But before he made it out of the kitchens, Malakai’s voice broke through his reverie.

“Wait! Prince!”

Rowan stopped and turned, taken aback by the urgency in the male’s tone. What could possibly still matter? What could still make any difference?

From the pain in Malakai’s eyes, something certainly could. And Rowan realized suddenly that the grief in the kitchens upon his arrival, the grief that he could feel flooding through the fortress in a desperate, panicked wave, was not due to the deaths of strangers across the sea.

No, something else had gone wrong. Something much closer to home.

Rowan barely had time to steel himself once again before Malakai spoke once more. “The courier also brought news from Wendlyn.”

He swallowed, his voice shaking slightly. “Their northern border has been attacked by three thousand men on Adarlanian ships. Most of their fleet must have been dispatched.” Malakai paused for breath, but Rowan knew what the male was going to say.

“Reinforcements aren’t coming.” The words were barely a whisper.

Malakai shook his head. “No. We are on our own.”

Rowan swallowed once, then nodded at the old male. “Then we will just have to make this the fight of our lives, won’t we commander.”

Something sparked in Malakai’s eyes. “Yes, we will, Prince. We will.”

They shared a moment of deep understanding. Of pain, and of leadership. And then Rowan turned and stepped out of the kitchens, transforming with a burst of light.

He soared above the courtyard and over the battlement wall, his eyes already straining into the dark woods beyond, searching for any sign –

But he needn’t look so far. She hadn’t left the fortress grounds, hadn’t even gone through the ward-gates.

Rowan felt his stomach drop, his eyes widening. But not in fear. In wonder.

A torrent of fire coursed out of Aelin, a blast that shook the trees and set the earth rumbling. A torrent cast straight at the ward-gates. And the magical barrier devoured her power whole, absorbing every last ember.

Rowan swooped down, shifting in midair as he moved to stand beside her. But he dared not get too close.

Aelin just stood there, burning more powerfully than he had ever seen, more powerfully than anyone he had ever seen, and she did not stop. She fed her rage, her grief and pain and anger, into the barrier stones and they lapped up every flicker, every spark.

She truly was the Heir of Fire, the Heir of Brannon. Rowan had known it, had felt the beast slumbering beneath her skin. But still, seeing and believing were different things.

Her power rose from within her, a behemoth from the deep.

Rowan looked at her, and he marveled.

Hours passed, and she worked herself into exhaustion. Her fires waned, the colors shifting from whites and blues down to deep reds and pale golds, until they flickered, and went out. Rowan sent a cool breeze her way, the only comfort he could think to give her.

The forest had gone silent, the birds and insects quieted by her fiery assault. But the barrier now seemed to hum with fresh power, the stones crackling and sparking with electricity.

Aelin turned to face him, and Rowan expected to see exhausted eyes and weary limbs. But instead, her face was bright with pain. Despite the intensity of her assault, yet more flames bloomed in her eyes, their golden core molten and ferocious.

Rowan could still feel the wildfire roaring beneath her skin, could still taste her flames in the air. Aelin’s well of magic had not run dry – her power still demanded to be let out.

Aelin just looked back at him, her shoulders sagging under all that weight, and Rowan breathed, preparing to add to her burden. “Word just arrived from Wendlyn. Reinforcements aren’t coming.”

“They didn’t come ten years ago.” Her voice was raw and cracked, though her words were calm. “Why should they bother helping now?”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “Aelin.”

She turned away, gazing into the darkening forest, too far gone to really hear him. Rowan knew she wouldn’t listen, knew it was useless. But still, he had to try. “You do not have to stay – we can go to Doranelle tonight, and you can retrieve your knowledge from Maeve. You have my blessing.”

She turned back to face him, her eyes hard. “Don’t insult me by asking me to leave. I am fighting. Nehemia would have stayed. My parents would have stayed.”

“They also had the luxury of knowing that their bloodline did not end with them.” His words were near-desperate. He couldn’t allow her to give in to this, to give in to the pain until she vanished under its weight. She couldn’t just submit to the fate she had been given. He needed her to fight – to survive, by any means necessary. Even by sacrificing the lives of their friends here. It was a burden he would bear.

She just gritted her teeth. “You have experience – you are needed here. You are the only person who can give the demi-Fae a chance of surviving; you are trusted and respected. So I am staying. Because you are needed, and because I will follow you to whatever end.”

A long moment passed as her words coursed through him. Burning, forging.

Rowan could feel something rising from deep within, and it enveloped him. When he emerged from its embrace, he knew he would be forever changed.

He did not look away.

“To whatever end?”

She nodded.

Rowan reached into his tunic and pulled out a dagger. Her dagger. He held it out, finally returning it to her. The metal gleamed in the faint moonlight, reflecting Aelin’s golden eyes back at him. She took the blade slowly, seeming to recognize the gesture for what it was. An acknowledgement.

Rowan looked into her eyes, into the very core of her. And she looked right back, piercing him through with her gaze.

And he said the only thing he knew, the one true thing. “Fireheart.”

···

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omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Oblivion ⊰

Request: Would you be willing to do an angst request of Spencer falling into depression and falls back in drugs again and his partner, the reader, (not associated with BAU) notices that something is up and confronts him about it and she gets him through it? - @bettygloom102

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Depression and mention of drug use

A/N: Not gonna lie, this was a tough one to write because of the topic. But I do hope you like it!

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath when your attempt to call Spencer failed yet again.

It’s been three weeks since you last saw your boyfriend in-person, and nearly one since you spoke to him on the phone. After a case he took a month ago ended with the unsub murdering the victim in front of his eyes, there was a noticeable change in Spencer’s behavior, and it was concerning.

Like always, he assured you that he was doing just fine, and he would be back to his usual self in a matter of days. Of course, you didn’t buy it, especially not this time.

It began with Spencer canceling dates with you. He would come up with excuses like he was tired from work, or he was feeling under the weather. Your daily coffee runs together ceased, and he stopped inviting you over to his apartment. When you asked Spencer what was wrong, he would refuse to open up and instead, push you away.

Spencer eventually ignored most of your phone calls, and your text messages to him were left unanswered. That’s when you decided to confront him about it. You were so worried about him, and after you found out that he hasn’t gone to work for the past two days, you knew that it couldn’t be good.

Standing in front of Spencer’s door, you knocked twice and waited for him to answer. When he failed to appear, you fished out your cell from your purse and called him again. You heard his phone ring inside his apartment, and you knocked on the door much louder this time.

“Spencer, I know your home. Please let me in,” you pleaded. It was a little while after when you heard footsteps shuffling on the other side, and the sound of the door being unbolted and unlocked.

The door swung open, and immediately your heart sank at the sight of Spencer. His tall frame was gaunt as if he hasn’t eaten a proper meal in days. His eyes were sunken, hollow, and empty—you wondered how many hours of sleep he gets each night, that is, if he got any.

Your attention then moved to his left arm where the sleeves of his top were rolled up, showing you the small red needle marks on the surface of his skin.

No. It couldn’t be.

“Spence,” you said his name softly as he moved to the side and let you enter his dimly-lit apartment. You studied the room and noted that it was a complete mess. Books were scattered all over the floor, dishes in the sink remained unwashed, and the bin was overflowing with garbage.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m fine,” Spencer mumbled before dragging his feet towards the couch. He plopped down on the seat and rested his head on one of the throw pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling above.

Approaching the living room carefully, you let out a breath when you noticed a filled vial and a used needle on the coffee table. Your eyes brimmed with tears, but you refused to let them fall.

Spencer needed you right now, and you needed to be strong for him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he stated with a shake of his head. “I’m not high right now if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You stayed silent as you tried to find the right words for a moment like this. A flood of emotions coursed through you at the realization that Spencer, the love and light of your life, had fallen down a deep and dark hole. You had never thought it was so bad this time around that he resorted to the one thing he vowed himself he would never do again.

“I couldn’t stop myself this time,” Spencer admitted, pointing at the needle as you sat down opposite from him. “But every night I could see the woman’s face, begging for me to help her. And I couldn’t—”

“It’s not your fault, Spence,” you told him, hoping that he would at least meet your gaze. “You can’t blame yourself for something like this, you know that.”

Spencer shook his head, the mop of curls coming down to shield his eyes. “What kind of an FBI agent am I if I can’t save people?”

You scooted closer to him, and fortunately, he didn’t recoil when you reached out and grasped his hand. “But you saved others. You stopped that unsub from hurting any more people.”

“But I didn’t save the victim! I looked her in the eyes and promised that would be okay. But I failed her when I couldn’t talk the unsub down,” Spencer raised his voice, and you intertwined your fingers with his, holding him still. Just by your mere touch, he was able to calm down. “That’s another life lost because I couldn’t do my job right. Ever since that night, I kept thinking of different scenarios, different strategies that I should have done, and would have worked.”

Suddenly, Spencer shifted in his seat so that he was now facing you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as his arms came to wrap around your sides. You felt the wet tears on your skin as you ran a hand up and down his back. For a few moments, uncontrollable sobs wracked his entire body, and you could only keep him close and whisper loving and comforting words into his ear.

It pained you seeing Spencer this way. He has never been more vulnerable to you than he was now, and you wished you could have done more from the beginning.

“Hey,” you placed a hand to cup the side of Spencer’s face, your thumb grazing alongside his stubbled jaw. He looked up at you with his warm and sorrowful brown eyes, and you smiled down at him sadly. “I need you to understand that you’re a good man with a good heart. What you’re doing is making a difference in people’s lives. I’m sorry that the case ended tragically, but you can’t blame yourself for the outcome.”

“But what if that case won’t be the last? What if I fail again?” His small, broken voice asked, trembling as you continued to hold him.

“Then we get through it together,” you answered. “You don’t have to deal with this alone, Spence. I’m always here for you, and when things start to go bad, even the slightest bit, I want you to talk to me.”

Spencer gave you a tired nod, his eyelids barely keeping themselves open. You lightly ran your fingers down his bare arm as a tear finally escaped your eye. “When did you start taking Dilaudid again?”

“Just this once,” he said with a sense of guilt. “Everything was falling apart, and I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Sighing, you then pressed a kiss on his forehead before getting up from the couch. You bent down and grabbed the vial resting on the table as Spencer watched your every movement. Walking towards the kitchen sink, you dumped out the remaining contents inside the small container, washing it down the drain by turning on the faucet.

Afterwards, you returned to the couch with a glass of water and handed it to Spencer. You settled back down on your spot and waited until he finished drinking. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” he responded with a faint smile. “Thank you (Y/N). I’m sorry for worrying you. I should have never shut you out when you’re only trying to help.”

“Anything for you, Spence,” you noted as he placed the cup on the table before cuddling up to you on the couch. You listened to his soft, rhythmic breathing as time seemed to stand still. “I love you, Spencer. I’ll always be here for you. Please never forget that.”

Spencer tilted his head up, resting a hand on your cheek as you leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

“We’ll get through this together,” you promised earnestly.

“Together,” Spencer repeated as he gazed into your eyes with so much hope.

You turned slightly and kissed the inside of his palm before moving forward to do the same on his lips. It was a sweet and reassuring kiss, something that would remind Spencer just enough that you were there, and you would always be no matter what.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #reader insert #my fics #reposted bc tumblr deleted? i think #request

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