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#girl help I’ve still got ten of these to write and I’m still sick
depressedhouseplant · 2 months
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🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 51 🔞
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Prompt: Boy Next Door (Wooyoung x Fem!Reader)
Tags: Narrator is female, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do it), multiple orgasms
A/N: Let’s see how thirsty Wommys are
I was just finishing getting ready when I heard a timid knock on the door. My date for the event wasn’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes. A quick peek through the peephole revealed it was my next door neighbor.
“Problem?” I asked. It was the only reason Jung Wooyoung ever showed up at my door. He wasn’t the least bit subtle about checking me out.
“I need help with my sink again, but I guess you’re busy,” he said.
“Yes, I am,” I replied. My phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Hottie from Coffee Place: Something came up. Sorry for the last minute cancel. Will make it up to you.
“You’re joking,” I grumbled at the message.
“What happened?” Wooyoung asked, still standing in the doorway.
“My date canceled on me 10 minutes before we needed to leave,” I waved him in.
“Where were you going?” he asked.
“This thing my parents are hosting. Some kind of charity event for an animal shelter. The oldest daughter has to always be there of course,” my bitterness bled through in spite of myself.
“I can come with you. If you need a date,” he offered.
“Thanks, but I think I might just stay in and claim I got sick,” I sighed.
“How formal? I think my tux is still pressed,” he replied.
“Very funny,” I rolled my eyes.
“No, I actually own a tux. Though given how short your dress is, I’m guessing a nice shirt and pants would suffice,” he took that as another shameless excuse to check me out. I didn’t mind as much the second time.
“How do you know you don’t wear a short dress to a black tie event?” I asked.
“I’m a second son. Of those Jungs,” he chewed his lip a little. “I know all about formal parties and impressing investors and birth order.”
“So that’s why you’re completely incompetent yet refuse to call maintenance when you break something in your apartment?” I smiled a little.
“And I might have a crush on the girl next door who can fix minor plumbing or electrical issues. I promise I’ve never broken anything on purpose,” he smiled back. I considered what he’d said. Neither of my parents would have their phones and if I messaged their assistants it wouldn’t get there in time. I wasn’t in the mood to get bitched out in the morning for not showing.
“Go get changed and I’ll meet you downstairs,”
My parents were shocked when I introduced Wooyoung as my date. Not much impressed them, but apparently the handsome son of the Jung Enterprises empire was one of them - even if he was the second son. Of course, he found out who I was in the process, but given he lived in the same middle class apartment I did he clearly shared my feelings on getting out from under your parents’ weight.
“Do you want to come in?” I asked after we got back.
“I’d love to,” he grinned.
“Thank you for coming. I appreciate it,” I told him.
“I had a good time. Though I think it was mostly the company,” he replied.
“So tell me more about this crush,” I pulled him down on the couch next to me.
“Well, she’s really hot, but she’s also nice. The first week I moved in I broke my sink and couldn’t find the number for maintenance so I went to ask her and she was able to fix it herself. She always smiles and says hi when we see each other in the hall. I’ve really wanted to ask her out, but she’s so pretty and nice she’s got to have a boyfriend already, but I just found out she doesn’t,” he said.
“So does that mean you’re gonna ask her out?” I asked.
“I think I’ll see if she’d like to go out to dinner tomorrow,” he replied.
“I think she can clear her schedule,” I grinned.
“Can I ask you something else?” he inched a little closer.
“Sure,” I replied.
“Can I kiss you?” he met my eyes.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I pulled him into me and joined our lips. Before I knew it, I was straddling his lap, holding his face in my hands, and letting his tongue do things in my mouth I never knew were possible.
“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” he asked when we finally came up for air.
“Depends, what did you have in mind?” I traced patterns over his collarbone.
“I’d like to fuck you, if you’re up for it,” he looked up at me.
“I was hoping to get laid tonight,” I kissed his cheek.
“Great!” he immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re cute,” I giggled as I walked him to the bedroom. “I even tidied up in anticipation.”
“Wow, you were into this guy,” Wooyoung observed.
“I’m over him now. Turns out my hot next door neighbor is into me,” I said. I pulled off my dress and lied down on the bed, my panties steadily soaking through as I looked up at him.
“Yes, yes he is,” he grinned and stripped completely. “Though if you don’t mind I’m going to tease your pussy first.”
“Don’t mind at all,” I opened my legs so he could get my panties off and get his face between my legs. If his tongue did magical things to my mouth, it was doing otherworldly things to my pussy. Under most circumstances, I would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of my mouth. This time, I let myself groan and whine until Wooyoung literally held down my hips to make me come.
“Oh fuck,” I planted and pushed my hair out of my face after I finished.
“Now time for number two. You don’t mind no condom?” he said.
“No, I’m good if you are,” I replied, still trying to catch my breath.
“Perfect,” he gave me a peck on the lips then slid into me. “Hard? Slow? Don’t care?”
“You pick,” I told him.
“Then I think I’m gonna take you slow. At least let you catch your breath before I make you come again,” he grinned, lying on top of me and kissing me again. Our bodies slid against each other, sweat slicked and needy, as his hips moved against mine. Our kisses were slow and deep. This was different for me, very different, but I liked it.
“Time for you to come again,” he breathed against my ear. He pushed himself up over me and fucked into me harder. I could barely keep a grip on his arms, but managed to as he made me come a second time that night. My back bowed off the bed as I dug my nails into his biceps. I felt him start to empty into me a few seconds later.
“Fuck,” he breathed when we both finished. He rolled us over so I was on top.
“Amazing,” I kissed him. “Thank you.”
“For which part?” he asked.
“The whole night,” I replied.
“You’re welcome. Still want to go to dinner tomorrow?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I grinned. “Assuming I decide to let you out of bed.”
“I knew I was good, but I didn’t think I was that good,” he laughed.
“Well, now you know,” I rested my head on his shoulder and traced circles on his chest, blissed out more than I’d been in a long time.
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elocinnicole · 6 months
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Much Needed Break
Much Needed Break
Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader
Rating: 18+ SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, foreplay)
Requested: No
Summary: Starting to feel burnt out and Reader gets a surprise from Daveed.
Note: I’ve been writing like crazy y’all. These past few fics have been WIP’s that have been collecting dust on my laptop. I took a sick day earlier this week and have been finishing up these WIPs I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 3K
Whoever said being a Mom is a beautiful experience, fucking lied. Never in your life have you wanted to be more alone than this moment right now. Daniel had a meltdown in the middle of the store because they were sold out his favorite cereal and refused to pick a different one. Ari has been going through diapers like tic-tacs. The last pregnancy you couldn’t produce enough milk, now it seems like you had to pump every hour or you’ll start leaking through your clothes. You were still healing from your C-Section with Ari which made dealing with everything that much more painful. The plan was to have a home birth but Ari was breech which made you have the C-Section and pushed back you filming the newest season of Bridgerton.
“Maybe you need a break.” Jasmine suggested
“I mean Daveed’s movie premiere is tomorrow. We got a hotel for the night.”
“No, that is not a break. You need a getaway with your husband.”
“I don’t know, I don’t have the time and I feel like even if we do go on a trip, I’m gonna be too tired to do anything.” You’re finding it harder and harder to get up each morning, since Daveed is in the middle of filming his days were early and long. Meaning he wasn’t there to help you in the morning with the kids. You really didn’t want to hire anybody but maybe you need to, at least until you’ve finished filming.
“My Fenty came in today so I thought I could put it on and see what happens.”
“See what happens? Girl I ain’t know it was this bad. You need to get that back broke like a glow stick.”
“When do we have the time Jazz? Between the Bluey marathon or Gracie’s Corner?”
“That’s a start but I still think the two of you need a break. Mainly you.”
“We’re getting a hotel tomorrow.” You reasoned
“Girl, a break from the kids, LA, your house.”
“Maybe you’re right, I’ll talk to Daveed about it.”
“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Alright girl, bye.”
You heard a car door shut, and eagerly ran downstairs to get ready. You’ve been missing, Daveed…a lot. Not only were you filming a show, but you’re also only four months postpartum, adjusting to being parents for two under the age of five, and Daveed filming his movie over seas, the time to be intimate was almost nonexistent. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself and Daveed a glass of wine before heading back upstairs to wait for him. The kids were asleep, candles were lit, you had a bath waiting for the two of you upstairs. You had everything planned.
You waited and waited for Daveed to come upstairs, but it’s already been ten minutes. You tried to stay awake but the exhaustion from your busy day took over and you fell asleep.
When you woke up, there was a blanket placed over you and the wine glasses from last night were gone. You got out of bed you glanced at the clock, and it was only 8:00 AM. You checked on Daniel and Ari, and they were already out of bed. Daveed must’ve taken them downstairs.
You walked into the kitchen, and you should’ve been grateful to see your husband making breakfast but the only thing you could think about is the mess he’s making while doing it.
“Morning! I didn’t want to walk you, Ari was fussy, so I gave her a bath. By then, Daniel was already up so I figured we’d get breakfast started.”
“We made you breakfast, Mommy.” Daniel smiled; face covered in syrup. Daveed smiled you tried to return it, but you walked over to the highchairs where your children were nestled safely, kissing their foreheads. You made yourself a cup of coffee and went to sit in the sunroom alone.
You were torn at your feelings; you’ve been waiting for the day when Daveed woke up with you and had breakfast as a family. The one thing you wanted to do right now had some peace and quiet to yourself. You’ve been in Mommy mode for the last three years and you were exhausted.  Not that Daveed wasn’t present, but you were the one who got the phone calls from daycare, took Daniel to the dentist and doctor. Ari was breastfed and since Daveed started filming soon after she was born, she was a “Mommy’s Girl”. Which left you very little time to be alone as Ari would refuse to go to anyone even sometimes Daveed.
“I made you a plate.” You turned to see Daveed standing in the doorway with a breakfast tray for you. You felt a pang of guilt, Daveed probably wanted to spend time with you but then you remembered that Daveed didn’t come to bed last night.
“Thanks.”    
“Babe—”
“What did you do last night when you came home?”
“I-I was uh…playing video games?”
“Why are you saying it like it’s a question, were you or weren’t you?”
“I was, it was a long day and I needed to unwind.”
“Okay, thanks for the breakfast.” You said, unsatisfied with his answer.
“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. By the time I came up you were already sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you had planned something—”
“It’s okay,” No it wasn’t. “Thanks for breakfast.” You grabbed the plate from Daveed.
“Babe,”
“Thanks for the breakfast.”
Daveed can admit it, his schedule has been busy for the past few weeks, to be honest, months. It’s taken time away from not only you but the kids. Not that you weren’t happy for him, his movie is expected to generate a lot of Oscar buzz and he has to do press. Daveed tried to make up for it by calling and facetiming you and the kids often, but that still doesn’t make you miss him any less or him feel less guilty. 
Today he was home, the official premier of his movie is tonight. The plan would be you and Daveed we get a hotel in the city with the kids. While you two were out, Nicolette and Jasmine were going to watch the kids. Then, back to the hotel for the night and check out the following morning. This would be the first night in a long time that you and Daveed were going out, just the two of you. You wished it wasn’t a LA movie premier but, nonetheless, it would be your fist night without the kids, sorta. You’ve never gotten dressed for an event with both Daniel and Ari though, you’ve done it plenty of times with Daniel but now you have him and Ari.
The easy going morning was short-lived as you stated getting ready to leave for the hotel. Daveed had gone to get something he needed from the store. You urged him to have it delivered but he just had to go. Leaving you with the kids. Alone. Again. You put both of them down for a nap so you could pack in peace. You were currently in Daniel’s room getting his bag together. A series of rapid knocks and the doorbell ringing pulled you out of your thoughts. You instantly groaned,
“Who the hell is that?” You mumbled to yourself. You dragged your feet down the hall and down the steps. You opened the door and weren’t ready to see your friends standing on the other side.
“What the hell?”
“Are you gonna invite us in or?” Nicolette asked.
“Uh, yeah come in. What are you guys doing we’re supposed to meet you at the hotel.”
“We know, Daveed called us last night.” Jasmine explained.
“Last night?”
“Yes, so go upstairs. Daveed’s gonna be here in like five minutes.” Jasmine urged.
“I’m not packed! I was getting the kids stuff together.”
“Daveed packed your bags for you. Put something on he’ll be here soon!”
You went upstairs to your bedroom and sure enough, Daveed had your bags packed you frowned at the luggage he used. Maybe he packed both of your things together. You threw on your favorite lounge set and some sneakers. You went back downstairs, luggage in tow to see Jasmine and Emmy playing with Daniel and Ari.
Not wanting to draw attention you waved silently left to meet Daveed outside. You smiled upon seeing your husband waiting outside the car for you. Forgetting about your luggage, you run up to Daveed and jumped into his arms.
“I’m sorry,”
“For what?”
“Being a bitch this morning.”
“I’m to blame for that, I know I haven’t been around—”
“It’s not your fault,”
“It kinda is, so we’re flying to France for the premier there.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, also I want to show off the woman that’s been holding me down for the last six years.”
“What about the premiere tonight?”
“We’re not going, we’re going to the airport tonight. But we only have five hours so I’m gonna send you off to your nails and hair done and then we’re going to the airport.”
“Daveed—” he cut you off with a kiss
“I’ll see you later. I’ll finish up here.”
Right after your pamper session, you and Daveed were on a first-class plane ride to France.
You still don’t know how Daveed managed to get this all set up in a little bit of time he had. Daveed prepared a full afternoon for you as soon as you landed, a private couple massage in the hotel room he booked, lunch brought to the room and a facial. The premier wasn’t until the next day, but Daveed wanted to pamper you to the fullest. He was out doing some last-minute things so you took this time to call Jasmine and Nicolette.
“Girl I wish I had a husband like yours.” Jasmie joked
“I know I might have to let him get some ass tonight. He’s been asking since we got together.”
“Girl you gonna have to do a split on it.” Nicolette teased
“Make a whole movie.”
“What’s your new Porn Star name girl?”
“Shut up, how are my babies?”
“Ari’s been up since 7:30, Daniel’s still sleep. We’re about to wake him up and give them breakfast.”
“Is Ari okay?”
“She was fussy last night but we got her to lie down. Daniel’s been fine, girl he hasn’t even asked about you guys.”
“That sounds about right, well I was just calling to check on you guys. Thank y’all so much.”
“Of course! We got you girl, go get dicked down tonight.”
“Oh my gosh, bye!” As soon as you ended the call Daveed entered the room. A fresh bouquet in hand
“Are those for me? Babe, this is entirely too much.”
“I don’t think it’s enough.” Daveed pulled you into a kiss
“Daveed, really this is just…thank you babe.”
“You deserve it.”
“What’s the plan for tonight?”
“Dinner at Substance and then you’ll see after.”
You were amazed at the attention to detail that your husband put into making you feel loved and appreciated in this little bit of time. Some how the two of you had a private dinner a in room away from everyone else. You haven’t spent this much time as a couple since before you had Daniel. Not that you weren’t grateful for the little family that you’ve made but you miss just spending time as husband and wife, but with your growing popularity and life it’s been difficult.
“Promise me, that we won’t lose this when we go back home.” You said
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I don’t want the only time we have time together…just the two of us is when you plan these elaborate getaways. I want alone time with you back in LA too.”
“I know I’m partially to blame for that…we’ll do better. I’ll do better to make sure we don’t forget about us.”
“It’s not just you, it’s me too. I love being a mom, but I don’t want to forget how to be the person you fell in love with.”
“Me either. I love you so much.”
“I love you too Daveed.” The two met in a loving deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around Daveed’s neck, he pressed his hand against the small of your back pulling you closer, as if that were possible. You pulled away first, breathing heavily.
“Make love to me, Daveed.”
Daveed’s lips never left your skin from time you left the restaurant to now laying against the bed while Daveed took his time undressing you. In the car leaving the restaurant, Daveed teased your clit over you lacy thong while sucking on your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud in the car. It didn’t help in the elevator that Daveed was kneading your ass while waiting to arrive to your floor. His hands and moth were attached to you in some way, driving you crazy. He always stop just short of making you cum, edging you.
“Daveed,” you moaned impatiently
“Wait…” Daveed tenderly took the straps off your shoulders and shimmed the dress down your body happy to only see you wearing a black thong.
“Damn baby just a thong?”
“All for you.” Daveed attacked your neck before making his way to your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth gently biting and sucking in it while he tugs on the other. You cried out in ecstasy, arching your back off the bed. Daveed switched to the other breast offering the same treatment. Your lift your hips, hoping to feel something.
Daveed makes his way down your body, avoiding where you want his mouth the most, instead he kisses your inner thighs.
“I love you so fucking much. You deserve the whole world and if I could give it to you I would. So perfect, beautiful, my wife.” You moaned at the praises mind too foggy to say anything. Daveed opens your legs and moans at the sigh before him, your thong soaking wet from the foreplay. He mouths at your clothed pussy, and you let out the most pornographic moan that went straight to Daveed’s dick.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“Daveed…please. I want you.” You breathed.
“You have me, baby.”
“Please…please.”
“Use your words, what do you want?”
“I want…I want your mouth on my pussy.”
“See, how hard was that?” Daveed moves your panties to the side and sucks on your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, pulling on it, causing him to groan.
“Oh, fuck Daveed.” He opens your folds and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal. Daveed could feel your walks squeezing around his tongue, he pulled his tongue away and plunged three fingers in you finding that spot and went back to sucking your clit.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You squealed as your juices flowed into Daveed’s awaiting mouth. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss, teeth clashing against each other. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Desperate for something, you began grinding your hips up against his to feel anything. You started tugging on his clothes, tired of being teased.
“Too many clothes.” Daveed smirked, he loved when you were fucked out and needy. He quickly took off his clothes and threw them to the floor. He hooked his hands under your legs and pulled you toward him. He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip on your folds, you were so wet he could’ve just slipped his dick in but he anted to tease you some more.
“Make love to me. No more teasing.”
“Since you asked me so nicely.” Daveed slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch, it’s been a while since you and Daveed were intimate, but you welcomed the slight pain. Daveed had to compose himself before moving, your pussy hugging his dick so nicely that he almost came at that moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders for a deeper angle making you both groan. When he started thrusting it didn’t take long for. The squelching of his dick going in and out of you was music to your ears. Some days, it was rough and hard, sometimes you only have time for a quickie, but now Daveed wanted to take his time with you and live in this moment forever. There was no rush, no Zoom interview, no five-minute commercial break, just the two of you in this moment.
“Daveed, Daveed,” You clawed at his back as you reached your peak, quicker than you wanted to. Daveed kept the same pace not wanting this to end, holding his own release at bay. You closed your eyes overtaken by the immense pleasure your husband was giving.
“Look at me,” Daveed ordered you opened your eyes and was met with Daveed’s intense stare. “keep looking at me, okay.” You nodded your head gasping as he kept fucking you into your next orgasm.
“Daveed, it’s too much.” Daveed’s slow deep stroke were killing you. You chanted his name over and over like a mantra.
“One more, just give me one more baby. I know you can do it.” Daveed’s thrust were getting sloppy as he was reaching his peak. One more thrust and you came together, your walls squeezing him as he came inside you. You both breathed heavily as you were coming down from your high. After a few moments, Daveed pulled out of you and pulled you close to him.
“Hey,” He breathed, you smiled softly.
“Hey. That was amazing.” You could see the compliment go to your husband’s head and rolled your eyes. You drew lazy circle on his chest.
“Thank you everything.”
“I should be thanking you and I’m sorry for not making you feel appreciated. I love you and I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone else but you.”
“I love you too Daveed.” You shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep in the arms of your husband.
Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh
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whiskeynwriting · 8 months
Note
Hi Liv. 💜 Thank you for writing so many lovely pieces for Daddy Whiskey. I am having the worst time I’ve had in a long time. I’m really sick but I still have to attend to a lot of obligations, and I haven’t had time to rest. How would Daddy Whiskey take care of me and make me slow down? 🤧🤒😴
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A Different Kind of Love
Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 
Daddy kink (it’s always here), illness, medicine, established relationship/marriage, sweet fluffies
A/N: random side note, reader’s temperature readings are in Fahrenheit. Your girl is American LOL but so is daddy 🥰
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“Hm?”
“Sugar,” Your husband whispers, shaking his head. The feeling of his hand, warm and strong, slides beneath the covers to caress your forearm. His other stays on your forehead, pressing a cold washcloth to your skin. “You didn’t tell me it was this bad.”
“Huh?” Your eyes are barely opening, having gone dry and droopy from sleep.
“One-hundred and four.” Jack states, prompting your eyes to widen. “Here, drink.” He then says, offering you an open water bottle. 
Everything feels weird, almost dizzying in a way. When you’d gone to sleep, Jack was still away on his business trip, and having him here so suddenly is surprising. 
“Why are you… how…”
“Sh,” He returns, lifting the bottle toward you again.
Grunting slightly, you attempt to sit up, your muscles sore and throbbing. Immediately, Jack is setting the washcloth down and reaching for you. With both of those strong hands on your back, he helps you up, urging you to lean on him. And while cradling your body, he offers the water again, urging you to take it. 
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He coos quietly, kissing your forehead. 
“Gonna get my germs.” Comes your weak protest, finally downing the drink. But he only laughs. It’s that deep chuckle you love so much, the one you can feel in his belly. 
“I missed you.”
“I’m sorry I’m so gross.” The words come out broken and shrill, spoken through a tiny sob. And to his surprise, you start to cry.
“Babydoll, you’re sick.” He states, almost incredulously. “And you’re not gross.” Wrapping both arms around you, he hugs you tightly, feeling your body relax into his own. “I’m here now, stop worryin’.”
Brushing a hand over your head, he slides the loose hairs away from your sweaty face, only to kiss your skin again. He can feel you shaking in his arms, can feel the ragged breaths coming from your chest. 
“C’mon, let’s get you in the shower. We gotta get this temperature down.”
Reaching for the hair tie on your nightstand, Jack wraps your hair up into a messy bun. And you’re so weak that you let him, not bothering to protest. You hate feeling like such a burden. 
“Did you leave early?”
“I did.” Jack tells you, beginning to lift your shirt to help you undress. 
“Why?” Your pout is evident, even as you lift your arms for him.
“Babycakes, I haven’t seen you this sick in years. Couldn’t just leave you here by yourself.” His trip was supposed to last ten days, but he cut it in half just for you. “Now c’mon, sweetheart.”
Once your panties are off Jack undresses himself, finally shrugging off his business suit. It’s only now that you realize he was still wearing it. He didn’t even bother to change when he got home before coming to comfort you. 
Jack takes both of your hands before helping you up, tugging on you gently. And he holds them still as he walks you to the bathroom. The cold metal on his left hand prompts your eyes to wander down, a small smile slipping on your face.
“I love you.” Looking up at him, that smile remains. 
He isn’t looking at you, he’s looking down while reaching for the faucet. But he smiles anyway. “I love you too, babycakes.”
When the water is warm he guides you in, eyeing your shaky steps. And while the heat feels good on your skin, you can’t help but shiver without your clothes on. Before Jack steps in, though, he grabs a little package out of one of your decorative jars, unwrapping it and dropping the contents onto the shower drain. And immediately, the smell of eucalyptus hits your nose, a calming scent that opens up your sinuses.
“Thank you.” You’re still trembling, your breaths stuttering, too.
“Stop thankin’ me.” His voice is calm and reassuring, his body a welcomed presence as he finally steps in to stand behind you. Jack’s sculpted arms then link around your midsection, his head dropping down to rest his chin on your shoulder. He keeps you against him, keeps you up. “It’s what I’m here for,” A soft kiss to your cheek, a small hum. “What I’m supposed to do.”
While you’re leaning against him, Jack grabs your loofah and body wash, lathering the soft tool before rubbing it over your body. He’s gentle with it, scrubbing you clean in the most loving way he knows how. And he doesn’t worry about your hair - having a head full of cold, wet hair won’t make your cold any better. 
“What about you?” Your voice is scratchy and unpleasant; it doesn’t sound like you. “I can’t, can’t wash you right now, baby.”
Your husband tuts at this, brows furrowing. “Wouldn’t expect you to. I’ll wash myself in a minute, honey.” 
And he does just that, helping you to sit on the stone bench while he washes his hair and body. He’s quick with it, too, not wanting you to sit out of the stream for too long. 
“I’m sorry you had to leave early. Champ must be so mad at you.”
“Not at all.” Giving his head a shake, he tells you, “Gives those idiot nephews a chance to prove their worth.”
Chuckling to yourself quietly, you think back to the two men you’d met. They’re around your age, the new agents, and very clearly inept. Turns out Champ is a fan of nepotism, favoring his nephews. 
“Still, I’m sorry you had to leave for me. I didn’t mean to make you w-worry.” As soon as you’re shivering again, Jack is helping you onto your feet again and ushering you beneath the warm stream. 
“Honey, you’re the most precious thing I have.” He reassures you, holding you once again. “I always worry about you.”
*
*
*
He’s so handsome, it’s all you can think. You’re drunk with love for him - how could one man be so overwhelmingly perfect? He’s caring, doting, you’ve never had anyone in your life make you feel so special. The way Jack treats you is something else entirely, it’s a different kind of love. 
Clean pajamas hold your body sweetly, soft and smelling oh so sweet. What’s even sweeter is the ice cream Jack doordashed for you, alongside your other favorite treats. And right now, he’s at the door, paying the delivery man before taking the food into the bedroom. It’s not the best habit, eating food in bed. But when you’re this sick, who the hell cares? 
“Alright, here we go.” Jack mumbles to himself, setting the plates of food down over the bedsheets. “And here’s your medicine.” He then says, handing you a couple of pills.
Before he helped you back into bed, Jack changed the sheets, putting on the clean set and then tossing the dirty ones into the washer. The entire time you’ve been sick, you’ve been worrying about the house. The dishes, the trash, the unkempt sheets. Especially with Jack returning, you wanted to make sure everything was neat for him, it’s what you always did. But when you couldn't even get out of bed to brush your teeth, you knew there was no way you’d be cleaning. Though, you knew Jack would never hold it against you. 
After ordering the food, Jack did about the house, putting things away, wiping down the surfaces and taking care of the dirty dishes and overflowing trash. It took him less than thirty minutes, and he didn’t even break a sweat. In his mind, nothing was more important than making sure you got your rest. And that meant taking away any and all distractions that would lure you out of bed. But once the food came, and everything was clean and cozy, he finally settled beside you in bed, picking up his own plate of food.
Leaning onto his shoulder, you sigh, a wave of emotion running through your body. “Daddy,” Burying your face into his chest, you finally allow yourself to release your tears of frustration and pain. “I don’t feel good.”
Setting his plate aside, he hushes you. “C’mere, honey.” 
When the food is off the bed, Jack’s urging you to rest your head in his lap. He lays back, feeling you shift onto his broad chest. One arm wraps around your back, holding you against him, while the other runs over your beautiful hair. 
“I know you’re not feelin’ good, sweet pea.” Jack’s voice is soothing, deep and warm and everything you need. “I’m so sorry. But I’m here, okay? I promise. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it for you.” 
“I just wanna cuddle you.” Your voice is muffled, face resting against his black, short-sleeve shirt. 
Again, he grins, letting out a small chuckle. Turning his head, he gives your temple a kiss before placing his fingers beneath your chin. And when your head is tilted up, he places a sweet, small kiss onto your lips. 
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” 
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ohtobeleah · 1 year
Note
I’ve already submitted one request but I have like 8 of these bad boys in my notes so here are two more if any tickle your fancy. Happy 4K!
#PL2
14-Stuck together for a long period of time and 28- “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?”
3-The aftermath of a bad fight and 35 “You wanna bet?”
I really liked this pairing and I noticed there wasn’t a specific request for a certain character so we just rolled with it: it’s Payback angst time.
Warnings: Reader Insert Death. F-18 crash. Crush related injuries.
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You and Reuben probably hadn’t had a conversation in the last six months that ended well. All the conversations you’d tried to have all ended with someone in tears or threatening to take the kids or the house or file for half of everything the other owned. In all honesty, all communication between you and your husband, well—soon to be ex-husband, had broken down over a period of about a year and nothing, including couples therapy, seemed to help.
But that didn’t mean you still didn’t love him with all your heart.
There was no one more a fault in your complete marriage breakdown, but it was clear that when Reuben finally took the plunge and moved in with Hangman, he got to keep your kids. Not your actual kids, Kip and Sidy—your five year old twin girls got to see their daddy whenever the hell they wanted, he lived just down the street now. But Payback got the kids, the dagger kids. That was clear as day. 
So it made it harder to love the man when all he did was look at you like you were the last person on earth he wanted to talk to let alone work with. 
“Absolutely not Sir—“ Reuben stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he stood his ground. “I’d rather take the write up for insubordination than fly with—“ Before Reuben could even spit out your callsign, Maverick was stepping in to defend you as you stood by with your helmet slung under your arm resting on your hip.
“Then with your wife?” 
“Ex wife—“ You mumbled under your breath but just loud enough for Reuben to still hear you. “The Navy doesn’t allow partners to fly with one another.” You looked to your husband who you couldn’t recognise anymore as he scoffed at your insight. “They’ll allow us to fly together now because I filed our separation papers in the clerk's office just last week.” 
“Fanboys out on paternity leave for the next few weeks.” Maverick turned his attention back to Payback who looked like he was ready to up and walk away from his entire career. “And Omaha is out sick so it makes perfect sense to pair the two of you up.” 
“In what world?” Reuben scoffed as he took it upon himself to walk away, leaving you and Maverick to stand in the silence of your broken marriage. 
“He’s fine.” You smiled softly, hiding your own heartache. “I’m sure if he just removed the stick from his ass he’d feel a hell of a lot better.” 
“You two gonna be alright?” You didn’t know how to answer as you turned to look at Reuben over your shoulder, just how the hell the two of you ended up so cold and distant you’d never know. “Because if it’s really that big of an issue I can put you with Phoenix and Payback can I have Bob?” 
“Uh—“ You shook it off, not wanting to not be professional—that was the main priority right now. Being a professional when all your husband wanted to be was a child. “No, we’ll be fine Mav, promise.” 
“Good, alright then.” He smiled, tapping your shoulder as you pressed your lips together and nodded. “Wheels up in ten.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“I hope you know that I hate this just as much as you do.” You settled into the back seat of Paybacks double seater fighter jet. Mickey—bless his soul, had three Polaroids of him and his wife Macy tapped to his control panel. It just served as a reminder that although you loved Reuben with all your heart, it wasn’t enough to salvage the shipwreck your marriage had become. “But I’ve got your back.” 
“Let’s just get this over with—“ Payback groaned. “Ready when you are Looney—“ 
“Luna.” Correcting Reuben as you shot him a death glare that was unparalleled to any other look you ever gave him, you hissed with intent to kill. “It’s Luna you jackass—“ 
“Copy that Lieutenant.” Payback replied as he maintained a steady altitude waiting for his green like to be given for the course the two of you were about to run through. “You know this is your fault right?” There was a reason the navy didn’t allow married couples to fly with one another. “If you hadn’t filed that paperwork with the clerk's office—“ It was because they knew that the likelihood of children being involved was about ten times higher. “Then we wouldn’t have been paired together.” But with a shortage of people on deck and with new assignments bordering upon the horizon, it was inevitable that your and your soon to be ex husband would be paired up for today's flights. “If you hadda just waited like I said then maybe—“ 
“Reuben! Can we not do this right now!” You hissed back as you tried your best to remain as focused and as professional as you could be. “There’s no point arguing about what could have and what should have been done or not done because we can’t change it now.” 
“You wanna bet?” Reuben snapped. “All of this could have been avoided if you didn’t file that paperwork!” Payback wasn’t mad that he was flying with you, he wasn’t mad that you were his WSO because he knew he was in good hands, but he was mad about the fact you filed the paperwork so soon. 
“Why are you so mad about me filing our legal separation papers!” 
“Because it just proved that you’re done trying to figure this out!” You didn’t have an answer and the cockpit you shared went completely silent. Oh.
So even though Reuben signed the separation agreement and signed the papers that said you were in the process of divorce and even though Reuben was the one who moved out into Jake Seresins bachelor pad and although Reuben was the one who initially brought up separation in an argument late one night before, he was mad at you for giving up. “You never wanted to try for us!”
“I can’t do this with you here—“ You held back your tears as you shook your head. “I’m not going to do this with you here so either you treat me like a colleague or we ground so I can tell Mav I overestimated your ability to handle this situation professionally.” Payback went silent as he tossed up the options you had given him. Choosing to continue on and fly the damn course.
It was, as it turned out—the wrong choice. It was as if fate had other plans for you and your soon to be ex-husband. It was like death himself had loomed over the pair of you and strategically lined up all the steps to have your husband’s Super Hornet turning into a flaming beast that was out of control and hurtling back towards earth at a steep that was unmanageable in a situation that was unforgiving—a bird strike to the right engine that totally wiped you both out. 
“Shitting off left engine!” Payback exclaimed as he relayed to you and to whoever was still live on coms what he was doing. As dark smoke plumes streamed out from the right engine you felt yourself choking up. What about your beautiful babies?
“Reuben we have to eject, we can’t save it!”
You snapped out of your trance-like state to speak sense into the father of your children as he did everything he’d been trained and told to do in an event like this. “Please, we have to eject it’s the only way! We’re in hydraulic failure! There’s nothing left to save!”
“Payback, Luna—you can’t save it, punch out!” It was ultimately Mavericks' voice that spoke enough sense about the chaos unfolding around you that your husband listened and finally gave into the fact that he couldn’t save his F-18. “Eject eject eject!”
“Luna, we gotta punch out.” Payback confirmed. “You first!” You listened and followed every protocol and did all the steps in order which should have seen you ejecting from the cockpit as it barreled towards the ground at an immense pace. “Y/n! I said eject!” Reuben shouted as he began to panic, watching the altitude fall every passing second. “Y/N!” 
“It’s not working, it's not working!” You cried as you tugged and tugged and tugged on the yellow and black striped handle between your legs. “It’s not working oh my god—oh my—!” Within a few seconds of disaster, the ejection handle finally sent you flying—tumbling freestyle through the sky as you reached for your chute, pulling it as you pointed your feet towards the ground and felt the tug of the chute filling with air.
Fuck that was close.
“Payback!” You shouted as you watched your husband float down in his own parachute, sending him a thumbs up and he gave you one back. 
It all seemed to have gone according to plan. You were alright, Reuben was alright from what you could gather—your kids still had their mother and father. As you headed towards the ground, controlling your chute, a major gust of wind picked you up and carried you through the gully—sending you flying into the side of one of the rocky mountains at a force that was unforgiving in its very nature. “Fuck!” 
With a *oof* On impact you crashed against the rocky exterior and fell a few stories to the ground below, catching sharp edges along the way that would surely leave bruises for days if not weeks to come before you hit the deck hard. “Oh yeah, yeah that’s gonna hurt for a few days.” You seemed fine as you rolled over, looking up at the sky to see if you could find Reuben in the clouds. 
But all you saw instead was a boulder hurtling down towards you, before the pain took you out. 
***~***~***~***~****~***~***~***~
Reuben Payback Fitch was a lot of things. But a good husband was not even close to being on that listen. The two of you had married young, had gone through all the trials and tribulations of the Naval Academy together, had gone through separate postings and long distance. You’d gone through flight school and ranking’s together. Had two beautiful twin girls together. 
You were Reubens best friend and he was yours, and in that very moment when he saw you lying unconscious on the ground with a bolder crushing your legs? Payback thought he’d lost you forever before he had a chance to say he was sorry. For everything. Sorry for how much he’d hurt you. Sorry for how much he wished he could have been the man you deserved and not got stuck with. Sorry he wasn’t able to give you the love you deserved, the life you deserved or the attention and admiration and support you deserved. 
“Y/n!?” He called out as he landed slightly rocky. “You alright?” It was probably a stupid question, but as Reuben ditched his chute and ran over to where you were trapped, he felt his stomach drop. “Oh god—“ Kneeling down beside you, Payback tapped your cheek. “Baby, hey you gotta wake up for me.” He cooed softly, trying to mask his own panic. “Come on, Lieutenant Fitch wake up for me.” 
At the sound of your husband’s gentle voice coaxing you back to reality, a floodgate of pain overcame your nervous system as you groaned and screamed out in unimaginable pain. 
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, easy—“ Payback accessed the situation and boy was it not good. Your legs had been entirely crushed by the weight of the boulder rock that had fallen after your impact with the side of the cliff face. “I’ve got you—“ 
“I really don’t feel good.” You cried as you tried to free yourself. “Ahhh!” 
“Stop, stop, here, I got you.” Payback cooed as he situated himself behind where you laid. Placing your head in his lap as he held your hand for support. “Search and rescue are probably out looking for us as we speak.” 
“What if I don’t have that much time?” You said as you coughed up a little blood that panicked Reuben to new heights. No—you couldn’t die right? No, you wouldn’t leave him like this? He was supposed to try and get you back. He thought he still had time. “Reu I don’t feel good.” 
“I know, I know but you’ve gotta stay with me alright, you’ve gotta stay strong because you can’t leave me here.” 
“Oh please—“ You sighed as your eyes felt heavy and your arms felt weak, you were losing so much blood, Reuben could see it leaking up your thighs, soaked into the Normex of your flight suit. “This is cheaper than divorce right?” You tried to chuckle softly but it turned into a full bloodied cough.
Fuck.
“No baby, I never wanted to divorce you.” Payback tried his best to keep his cool as he leaned down over you to kiss your forehead, he took notice of how cold you were. “I’m just a fool who should’ve worked harder to show you how much I love you.” 
“Reuben—“ You coughed again as your legs grew weaker and weaker under the pressure of the rock trapping you. “Please don’t lie to me.” 
“I’m not.” He was quick to say. “I’m not lying to you Y/n, if I could take it all back, these last few months, I would in a single heartbeat.” 
There was a momentary pause on your behalf as you mulled over your next step. 
“Okay—“ You leaned into your husband, knowing that you wouldn’t fear death if he took you now. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.” You thought that if you were going to die here that you may as well be reminded how much you were really loved. “You’re gonna tell me three, no five—no.” You coughed up a little more blood as Reuben held your hand a little tighter as tears began to stream effortlessly down his cheeks. “Seven things, you’re gonna tell me seven things that you love about me, seven reasons why this is all worthwhile. You and me.” 
There was a momentary pause on Reubens behalf as he mulled over if this would be his last chance to tell you how much he loved you—his last chance to apologise. 
“I—I love how your neck smells in the morning.” He began as he cried and felt you in his arms. Shaking as the reality of the situation began to settle. How was he gonna tell your baby girls that’s you weren’t coming home.
“Okay.” You sighed, trying to focus on his voice and not the pain. “That’s one.” 
“I love how every one of your toes looks like it came from another person's food.” 
“Oh my god—“ You laughed out in pain as you gritted your teeth. 
“And I love how you’re so honest and fearless and—“ Payback paused, really thinking about the things he wanted you to know he was grateful for. “And I love how when I’m sick you take care of me like I’m on my deathbed.” 
“Okay—that last one counts for two.” You smiled softly up at your husband. “You’ve got three more.” He didn’t hesitate to keep going. Seeing the search and rescue efforts coming your way. “I can tell you I just adore this.” You added, reaching up to touch the worry lines on Paybacks forehead. “When your forehead gets all wrinkly when you’re worried.” 
“I love the way you cut your crust of your toast even though you end up eating them both!” You and Payback both chuckled as you looked up at him and he looked down at you, your head still resting in his lap as his legs fell on either side of your body. 
“I love your loyalty and your kindness to the girls.” You cooed. “They love you so much.” You paused for a moment until. “And I love how you still suck in your gut when I walk in the room.” That got Rueben as he laughed softly and kissed your forehead. You were much colder than a few minutes ago. 
“I love how you didn’t dump me when you found out I was so in love with you.” Everything felt like it was fading, but you heard your husband loud and clear.
“And I love that you still married me even after you met my parents.” There was nothing more Payback wished he could do with you right now, than to go back to the night that he first met you. The love of his life, his best friend, the mother of his children. 
“Please don’t leave me Y/n—“ You wanted to respond but you didn’t know how. It was like all of your abilities had been taken away. “No—no darling you stay here with me, with the girls, no no no—“ 
“Take care of our girls.” Oh take him back to the night you met. You’d been stuck here together for a long period of time but there was no way in hell Payback was leaving you. “I love you.”
“If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” You just looked at your husband and he knew, he knew this was it as medics ascended onto the scene. So he kissed you softly and ever so gently. As Reuben pulled back he saw your eyes were closed. And he knew—
He knew he just lost the better half of him.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*
Leahs 4k celebration 🎊
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jmflowers · 2 years
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I was tagged by my forever tag buddy, @trying-to-get-somewhere-real. Thank you, my friend.
Favourite Colour: I love purples (plum, eggplant, lilac, lavender), oranges, blues and pinks. Basically, imagine a really great sunset and those are my favourite colours.
Currently Reading: I just finished The Au Pair by Emma Rous, which was my camping read. I’ve started Among the Ten Thousand Things by Julia Pieront since getting home, but I’ve only had time to read one chapter.
Last Song: I’ve been spending a lot of time with Maggie Rogers’ new album Surrender. My favourite song on that is Anywhere With You. Last one I listened to today was Begging for Rain.
Last Series: I had some surprise time off work a few weeks ago, so I binged the entirety of Stranger Things. I’ve just started a rewatch of Derry Girls, but my goddaughter has demanded I watch Heartstoppers before I see her again.
Last Movie: Honestly, it’s been a while since I had time to watch a movie. I think the last was Quickening at the Future of Film Festival in Toronto.
Currently Working On: I’m at a pivotal moment in my placement, so all the pitches I wrote that were green lit for further development are due back to the network at the end of the month in their expanded form. That means a lot of time and mental energy are being spent on beat sheets, digital media components, and helping to make sure that our ‘characters’ are available for filming demos. (Unfortunately, three of my characters have backed out in the last few days so... things I have done have to be edited or rewritten.) At the same time, my first semester as a teaching assistant has just concluded and I’m preparing to return to school as a student (and a TA again!) in just a few weeks. But all that is never enough for me, so I’m also still working at the farm in my regular shifts and as extra coverage for coworkers on vacation/injured/sick with COVID. The things I’m working on for me are writing a ‘sequel’ (of sorts) to Hygge that follows the kids and their moms through the later years of their lives and preparing for a few more adventures before the year is up. I’ve got at least one more camping trip ahead and my first flight since 2019, hopefully.
Tag 9 People: Alright, my buds, I don’t know if you’ve done this because I haven’t been here much but... let’s go, @lacallemojada, @themarbledfox, @piratekane, @thundergrace, @leigh-kelly, @drlaurenb, @authorette44, @a-windsor, and @englishstrawbie. Have fun!
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writingthingiguess · 2 years
Text
Blog for class
I have been tasked with writing a blog for my writing class, as such I have no idea what to write. How exactly does one write a blog? Is there some set way for things to be laid out? am I supposed to follow the lax teaching of the hit Disney show dog with a blog? the one I watched when I was sick in bed and was honestly atrocious. I'm just going to do what I tend to do whenever I talk to someone else. Ramble.
I always seem to be able to find a topic of conversation, something I'm passionate about and then rant for days. I think its just the way my brain is wired, I love listening to other people rant as well, its like “hello I have opinions” “no way me too!” I sometimes fear my friends are sick of me when I talk, but they assure me its not true, sometimes though when they hear about my opinion of certain characters in books or shows I love they sink into their chairs and wait for me to finish, content to just listen. Man I love my friends.
I used to, and still do, get worked up over the Artemis Fowl books for instance, my favourite character in those books is called Minerva. She’s smart and funny and amazing, she is also never mentioned again after the one book she appears in. according to the author you cant have two super geniuses in a series and make it work but I think he's just a coward. As my friends will tell you, I always talk about how upset I was he didn't even try, he could have made Minerva, Artemis’ rival of some sort, make her more socially capable then Artemis, make her story be what Artemis missed during the time he was stuck in a suspended state (the books are a bit odd ok?). I'm very firmly of the opinion the books went down hill after that one, or even during that book, but I love that book because of Minerva so I ignored the story failing. I cant really read the rest of the books anymore. The implied romance between holly, an adult woman (who is also a fairy but that isn't relevant for my point) who is implied to be around the human equivalent of thirty and Artemis, who in the first book is TWELVE and in the last book, is an unknown age because time travel is a bitch but also STILL VERY MUCH NOT AN ADULT, at least compared to holly. Sure the romance is never explicitly stated but everyone knows what the author was implying and its gross. 
Anyways, enough about my weird obsession with a French girl who called a deadly mercenary a loser (my god I love Minerva) I've always loved books intended for a younger audience, I feel like they are so much less restrictive, like you are so much more likely to find a book about a friendly dragon, who cant breath fire because of an injury who wants to help the main character find his sister in the children's section then in the adults section, they are always so creative. Something I have noticed is a vast majority of books aimed at adults are either romance heavy or violence heavy, which if that's your taste that's fine, people come in different shape and sizes with different interests and who am I to judge? I'm in the middle of a re-watch of ever after high, a kids show made to sell dolls that got cancelled when Disney's descendants came out. But I feel that neither romance or extreme violence is necessary for an interesting story. My favourite series of books is ‘a series of unfortunate events’ by Lemony Snicket, a fake author who's story is surrounded with unanswered questions and mystery. The books are about misery. That's it, it is three miserable children who get in to outlandish situations, and every single one ends in tragedy. But its fun to read, the author is witty and funny at just the right moments and morose and morning at others. Hell I even wrote an essay on this fake author for a class at my university. My point is the books are sad, depressing even. My mother couldn't finish them even though she recommended them to me. There is legitimate emotion in those pages, and its a kids series. I was around ten years old when I started reading them, and those books still bring out a more emotional reaction in me then any death scene in a book aimed for a more mature audience. Anyways where was i going with this? Books aimed for children are good, i had an obsession with Percy Jackson again recently and casting just came out and, i don't think kids books should be undervalued as literature just because they are kids books. whew , sorry about that i start writing then i get out of hand. I read out my opinions on love triangles to the class today. I have a weird amount  of opinions of love triangles. Anyways adios, I have decided this blog is just a rant i get to force my classmates to read. Y’all I'm sorry, but also suffer.
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skyward-floored · 3 years
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Whumptober Day 21: That’s where the blood’s supposed to be
(Bleeding thru the bandages, pressure, blood-matted hair)
This was originally going to be an entirely different thing with Time and Legend, then I was like “wait. I just did them yesterday. shoot.” So this is what came out instead. Last minute. Aheh.
———————————————————
Wind shifted uncomfortably on the hard stone floor, wincing as his legs ached. He’d move into a more comfortable position, but there wasn’t a more comfortable position. Just cold hard stone that made him sore no matter how he sat.
He’d paced around the windowless room at first, poking suspicious corners, kicking bars that looked like they might’ve been loose. But the structure was annoyingly sturdy and it soon became evident there wasn’t any way to slip out.
So he sat down and played with the edge of his tunic, and tried not to worry.
He’d been captured by some gangly guys in red suits, and while Wind could certainly handle himself in a fight, he’d been alone and outnumbered. He knew he shouldn’t have wandered away from the group, but Wild has said the ocean was really close and he hadn’t seen it in so long. So he’d slipped away when they made camp, promising himself he just wanted a look.
...and got promptly ambushed and dumped in here.
They hadn’t even done anything to him, just tied him up and put him in a cell. No taunts, no pressing for information, nothing. He’d slipped the ropes hours ago, but nobody had even noticed.
So he was left to just sit and wait. Which wasn’t one of his strong suits.
He really hoped the others would come soon. Wind knew he was capable, but he was in an unfamiliar world against unfamiliar enemies, and he had no clue what they wanted. For all he knew they’d just left him here to die.
He was almost relieved when a clanging noise caught his attention and the door finally opened. One of the bigger red-suited guys came in, closely followed by a more regular one.
Wind opened his mouth to demand some answers, but gasped instead when he saw what was held limply in their grasp.
Wild was on his knees being dragged between them, tunic torn and bloody as his hair hung in a messy curtain over his face. He was unconscious, or very close to it, because he didn’t even react when the large man threw him into the cell next to Wind.
Wind jumped up and ran to his side, trying not to panic at the large amount of red staining his friend’s shirt. “Wild?! Wild are you okay?” He pushed some hair out of his face, and felt his worry grow when the champion didn’t answer.
Wind glared over at the red suits, balling his fists up. “What did you do to him?!”
The smaller one laughed, and Wind was sure there were smirking at him from under their weird masks. They didn’t answer him, simply exiting the cell and slamming the door shut behind them.
Wind could feel his heart start to pound as he took in Wild’s injuries, none of which looked too life-threatening. But there were so many of them. They littered his chest and shoulders, and there were multiple thin slices on his face as well. He’d obviously been hit on the head at one point too, and his usually golden blond hair was matted with drying blood.
Wind swallowed. There was a lot of blood.
“Wild?” He asked again, voice shaky. “Can you hear me?”
The champion let out a faint groan, and his eyes cracked open, thin lines of azure visible.
“Yeah...” he whispered, and Wind felt his panic abate a little. “glad you’re okay sailor...”
“Glad I’m okay?!” Wind shouted. “I’m not the one bleeding all over the place! Why did they do this to you Wild? Who even are these guys?!”
The champion sighed shakily, and Wind felt a pang of guilt for yelling at him. “Sorry,” he said, sitting down on the floor. “How’d you get here? Did you follow me?”
Wild nodded. “I saw you sneak off... figured you’d... be fine, but when you didn’t come back... I went looking... and the Yiga caught...” he coughed into his arm. “...caught me.”
He winced and put a hand around his waist, blood pooling under his fingers
Wind sucked in a short breath, and shrugged out of his blue outer tunic. He pressed it tightly on what looked to be the deepest cuts on Wild’s chest, wincing as the blue started to stain red. Then he carefully lifted the champion’s head into his lap and began picking out some of the dried blood in his hair.
“The yiga...” Wind mused to himself, trying to keep his mind off all the blood. “Didn’t you and Cap run into one of them one time?”
Wild hummed in agreement. “Yeah. They’re... out for my blood. Hate the hero. And... royal family.”
Wind frowned. That would’ve been nice to know before they’d landed in Wild’s time. “So why didn’t they just kill you? Why bother with capture?” Wild let out a short laugh, and Wind noticed a hard light in his eyes.
“They want to make it last.”
Wind’s eyes widened, but Wild’s serious expression suddenly changed into a grin. “Doesn’t matter though...” he said smugly. “Twi an’ Four... saw what happened... They’ll be here any time now...”
Wind brightened up. “That’s great! We just have to hang on until then.” Wild smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but coughed instead. He blinked, and looked down at his stomach. There was a concerning amount of red staining through Wind’s tunic that wasn’t there a moment ago.
“Huh.” he said hazily. “The yiga... uh... might’ve done too... much...”
Wild’s eyes began to drift close and Wind felt his earlier panic return full force. “Wild! Wild stay awake, you only have to last a little longer!”
Wild coughed again, and a thin trail of blood dripped down his chin. Anger burned through Wind’s gut, and he looked over at the bars blocking the door.
“Hey you yiga creeps!” he yelled. “I thought you wanted him to last! You did too much, come help him!” Wind’s voice echoed in the hallway, but no Yiga came to the cell. The sailor squeezed his eyes shut, hands shaking.
“He’s dying!” a sob punctuated the last word.
Wild’s breath was growing thin, and Wind desperately pressed his soaked tunic tighter around him, tears dripping down his nose.
“Come on champion don’t die, don’t die, the others are coming, don’t die don’t die don’t die-“
A loud booming noise sounded in the distance, and Wind snapped his head up. Shouts echoed down the hall, and Wind felt hope rise in his chest.
“Just a little longer Wild... please stay alive,” he pleaded, throat tight.
Wild didn’t answer.
71 notes · View notes
talesofstyles · 3 years
Text
Drs Styles
paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.
warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.
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Harry
“Move your car, please!”
“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”
“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”
I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 
The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 
I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 
“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 
“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”
“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.
Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”
“Do we like Rufus?”
“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”
I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 
Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?
After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 
There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.
Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 
A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.
“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.
“I am.”
“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 
Like I said, it’s a different land here.
“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.
“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”
A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 
“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.
“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”
Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.
“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 
“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”
“I’ll go if I have to.”
I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 
“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 
“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”
***
Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.
Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 
Speak of the devil.
“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”
“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 
See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 
Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 
I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.
“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”
“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”
“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”
“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”
“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”
“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 
***
The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 
“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.
The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 
This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”
His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 
“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 
“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 
“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”
“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.
She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”
She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.
Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 
“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”
“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”
“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 
“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.
“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”
“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”
A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”
I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”
“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”
“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”
“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”
The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 
I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”
Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.
“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”
I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 
“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”
I smile. “Go on.”
“And then my heart started running.”
“You mean racing?”
He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.
“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”
His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.
Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.
“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”
Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 
His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.
“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.
“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”
She smiles, nodding.
“Did you have any other questions for me?”
She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”
I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”
“He doesn’t know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”
“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”
***
“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 
“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”
I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”
She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”
We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 
“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”
“Alright.”
I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 
It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.
Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 
“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 
“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”
She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”
***
“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”
“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 
“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.
“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 
Two uniformed minions appear.
“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”
They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.
“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.
This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 
“Red, please.”
We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.
The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”
I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.
“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 
“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”
My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 
“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”
Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.
I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 
I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.
“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 
My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”
“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”
Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.
I ask her. “Is it free?”
“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”
See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.
“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”
“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”
Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-
“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”
I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.
“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”
“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”
“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.
“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”
Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”
***
“I swear your daughter, Styles.”
We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.
“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”
I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 
“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”
“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being a Styles.”
“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”
“What?”
“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 
Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.
“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”
The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 
“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”
She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.
“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 
“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”
“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”
“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”
“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”
“Ikea.”
“Fuck.”
“Meatballs.”
“Billy Bookcase.”
She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 
“Viggo Mortensen.”
“Isn’t he Danish?”
“Tomato, Tomahto.”
I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.
But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.
Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.
1K notes · View notes
uwuwriting · 4 years
Text
How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki
Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are. 
Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist
rules
warnings: SIMPING
Bakugou Katsuki
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-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping. 
-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on. 
-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer. 
-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him. 
-Or at least that’s what he believes. 
- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”
-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time. 
-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you. 
-One of his simping tactics. 
-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.
-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.
-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.
-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry. 
- “We’re doing your favorite.”
- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”
- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”
-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess. 
-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips. 
-His heart goes oops. 
-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him. 
-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.
-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it. 
-It’s usually on accident.
-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill. 
-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well. 
-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile. 
-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep. 
-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room. 
-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far. 
-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.
-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful. 
-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping. 
Kaminari Denki
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-Worships the ground you walk on. 
-All out simping no shame. 
-He will straight up give his soul for you. 
-And he is rather proud of that fact. 
-The polar opposite of Bakugou. 
-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping. 
-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.
-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal. 
- “Denki I just want a bite.”
- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”
-Calm down sir....calm down. 
-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps. 
-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers. 
-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds. 
- “I thought you were playing COD.”
- “I canceled.”
- “YOu wHAt?”
-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off. 
-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend. 
-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND. 
-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games. 
-Your man almost got banned.
-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb. 
-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.
-Boy didn’t even reach your door. 
-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy. 
-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.
-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience. 
-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.
Todoroki Shouto
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-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.
-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call. 
-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.
-Oh you are studying?
-Will just hug you from behind.
-You are watching something on Netflix?
-Will rest his head on your shoulder. 
-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love. 
-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes. 
-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.
-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.
-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.
-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.
-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you. 
-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.
-No no.
-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period. 
-Clingy boy to the fullest.
-And a bonus, will do anything you ask. 
-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.
-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle. 
-He’s more of a protective simp.
-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around. 
-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you. 
-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......
-Your sleeping schedule. 
-It’s fucked up basically.
-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise. 
-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room. 
-I LOVE HIM!
TAG TEAM AY:
@iwaqchan​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @bemorefiction​ @dnarez-mangetsu​
4K notes · View notes
fics-n-stuff · 3 years
Text
A Nice Christmas
Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)
Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon
Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.
Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm
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Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.
He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.
He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.
A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.
When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.
5 messages from August
Ignore.
10 messages from Mamma
Ignore.
2 missed calls from Felice
Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.
Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?
Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright
Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do
Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.
It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.
“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.
“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”
“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.
“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”
“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.
“What about for the rest of the break?”
“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”
“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.
“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”
Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.
“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.
“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.
“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”
“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”
“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?
He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.
+ + +
“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.
“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.
“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”
Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.
Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon
He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.
Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.
Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.
“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.
“Sorry, just thinking.”
“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.
“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”
“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”
“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.
He didn’t tell them about the text.
Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.
“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.
“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.
They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.
“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.
“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.
“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.
“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.
“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.
“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.
“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.
“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”
“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”
“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”
“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”
Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.
“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”
He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.
“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.
When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.
By that same evening, the video was viral.
+ + +
I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA
If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention
He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??
I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot
The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video
I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck
Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.
The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.
He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.
He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.
Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.
Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.
“Simon?” He croaked.
“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.
“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.
“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”
“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.
“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”
“Why would I have done that?”
“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.
“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”
“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.
“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”
“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise.”
There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.
“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.
“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”
Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.
“I miss you.” Simon said.
“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”
Another pause.
“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.
“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”
“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”
“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”
“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”
“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”
“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.
“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”
Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.
“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”
“Have you had stuff to do?”
“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”
“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”
+ + +
Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.
That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.
He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.
A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.
The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.
“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.
“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”
“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”
Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.
“You look tired.” Simon commented.
“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”
“Is it?”
He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.
“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.
“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.
“Oh, I didn’t notice.”
“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.
“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.
“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”
He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.
Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.
“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.
“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”
“I know.”
“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”
Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.
“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.
“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.
“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”
“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”
“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”
Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.
“Yeah.” He breathed.
When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.
“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.
“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”
Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.
“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”
“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.
“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”
“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.
“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”
It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.
220 notes · View notes
ickle-ronniekins · 3 years
Text
forever, i choose you
desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.
word count: 3.9k
pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader
warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk
A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.
disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.
Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.
He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.
He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.
George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.
He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.
He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.
He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.
Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.
He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.
And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.
He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.
The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.
She wasn’t the one that felt like home.
-- -
Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.
So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?
But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.
Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.
Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.
And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.
And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.
And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.
“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”
No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.
George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.
“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”
He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.
This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.
He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.
He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.
He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.
-- -
Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.
It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.
It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.
One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.
He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.
He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.
Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.
In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.
The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.
George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.
He wanted to be someone’s first.
-- -
Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.
He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.
George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.
He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.
But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.
He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.
He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.
He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.
He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.
His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.
But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.
But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.
Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.
It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.
He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.
He felt hopeful.
He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.
Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.
He wanted something true.
-- -
Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.
While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.
He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.
He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.
He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.
He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.
But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.
And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.
Maybe this was what he deserved.
Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.
Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.
The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.
-- -
Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.
That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.
Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.
It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.
Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.
You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.
He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.
You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.
He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.
George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.
In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.
Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.
And he smiled back.
He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.
He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.
Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.
He’d tell you this one day.
-- -
“And what does… Lumox mean again?”
George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”
You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”
George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”
You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”
George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.
In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.
BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:
Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.
He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.
And there it was again. That feeling.
You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.
George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”
Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”
But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.
Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.
Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.
If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.
And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”
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lavishedinjimin · 4 years
Text
all the good girls go to hell
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— synopsis: The Angels made a deal with Jeon Jungkook, the son of Lucifer, to help them bring Y/n back to her good, prim and proper self. Even though Jungkook grants the atrocious plan, he leaves a lesson that no one should give their trust to a wicked devil like him.
↳ pairing: jungkook x f. reader
↳ genre: smut, very slight angst if you squint hard enough
↳ rating: m/18+
↳ word count: 10k
↳ warnings: religious themes, heaven and hell, angels, devils (this fic is not a correct representation of these figures and is purely fictional), alcohol intake, cursing, hard dom jk, daddy! jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, squirting, unprotected sex, breathplay, spanking, face fucking, filthy dirty talk, rough sex, jungkook and his demon cock ehe
a/n: title is inspired by billie eilish’s song all the good girls go to hell. her title inspired me to write this fic! please ignore if you find any errors <3
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“You’re not good enough.” 
“You look so pathetic, really.”
“Can you at least try to look hot?” 
“This is why no one likes you.” 
These words will forever haunt you until the day you die. 
It wasn’t your fault that you were raised very strictly, your overly-protective parents treating you like some kind of rare treasure that no one, no man, can touch. The fact that your parents still had to drive you home from school even at an age like this always irritated you to the brim of your existence. So now you can’t even have the freedom, the life of a normal young girl can have. 
Being raised strictly with a heavy-handed family – not to mention religious, too – has taken a toll on your mental health. There’s always the feeling of pressure wherever you go and whatever you do. The fear of not succeeding and disappointing your mom and dad is the worst feeling, like the Devil punching your gut repeatedly, as many times as he likes. 
Plus, some students at your school know you for your lack of “personality”, the boring one, the killjoy. You can’t even refute because it was all true. You never experienced fun, parties, how to have interesting conversations, how to interact with a large crowd, all because of your parents being so uptight in you. 
“Y/n!” The high-pitched voice of your mother calls from downstairs, and you were quick to scurry outside your room and find where she was sitting on the couch. “Yes, mom?” You say. 
She was dressed in a royal-blue dress that goes up to her knees, her hair fixed perfectly and the hairspray is clearly doing a great job of keeping her updo in place. She grabs her purse while your dad walks into view, dressed up in a neat suit. “We’re leaving for our business trip, Y/n. Didn’t I tell you that?” 
“Ah.” You sort of forgot about that. 
Quickly nodding your head, you force a fake smile that you know all too well, “Yes.” 
She gives you a weird glance before she fixes her makeup in a mirror, and your dad decides to continue for her. “We’ve hired a nanny to look after you, so that you won’t go out and about going behind our backs—”
“But dad! I really don’t need someone to babysit me,” You scoff. You weren’t a child anymore, what are they thinking! “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. Don’t you trust me?” 
Trust. Something they don’t have with you, whether they admit it or not. 
Your dad just sighs deeply and starts to walk closer to you. He places a hand on your shoulder as he looks straight into your eyes, giving you an authoritarian look. “Y/n, just do as you’re told and be a good daughter.” 
“I’ve always been one,” you scorn. 
“A good daughter doesn’t talk back.” Your mother retorts. 
This is why you can never argue with them. They never let you speak your own opinion or have your own voice. 
Your parents left exactly at 5 PM as they went on their flight to Madrid, leaving the house all to yourself only for tonight.
It was the next day, and you were sitting on the dining table, eating your cereal peacefully as you watched Netflix on your phone – until the doorbell rings. 
You stand up and quickly make your way to the front door, pouting when you already know that it is the person that was supposed to look after you. 
This is ridiculous. 
“Hello!” A bright, short middle aged woman appears standing on the doorway, her bright energy startling you. “Y/n! I’m May, nice to meet you!” She lifts her hand in front for a handshake, and you chuckle nervously, accepting it. “I’m here to look after you for ten days, hm?” 
“Uh, ah, yeah. C-Come in!” You tried to sound as positive and energized as you could to match her own energy, but you couldn’t. You step aside to let her in, pulling her luggage with her and she immediately takes up the design of the house. She was nodding her head, her arms crossed together while you accompanied her little journeys throughout the whole ground floor. You found her weird. 
“Uh, come follow me, my dad says you’ll be staying here at the guest room —” 
“Wonderful! I thought I was sleeping on the couch!” She claps her hands, excited that she has her own room. 
You look at her with big, shocked eyes, yet you can’t say anything. 
“O-Okay…” you mumbled, “Here,” you helped her open the door and she immediately set her things up. “May?” 
“Yes, my dear?” She stops unpacking her bags to look up at you. “I’ll be at the kitchen, okay? If y-you wanna ask anything, I’m right over there.” 
“Ah, that’s okay, Y/n. Your mother told me everything I need to know. Your bedtime is at eight and no midnight snacks!” 
Your heart drops down to the floor as you immediately encountered a wave of emotions. Why did it matter?! Why did your mom had to apply all these stupid rules when she’s not even around? You thought at the start that you’ll have some kind of freedom when your parents aren’t here, thinking that your nanny might be easier, but perhaps not. 
“Okay.” You say simply. 
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How else can you prove to people that you can be better? You're sick of everyone seeing you as the boring one, but your parents were the only thing that was keeping you from having fun. So you decide to be a little risky. 
Step one: Sneak out the house. 
Isn't that what people your age do? Usually they sneak out to party, to go hang out with their friends and have the time of their life. But you had none, no ‘best friend’, but a couple of lunch friends here and there. 
“I should try clubbing.” You mumble to yourself as you sit down on the plush comfort of your mattress. Until you hear your phone chimes, signalling a text. You grab your phone from the bedside table and frown when you see who the text was from. 
Mom: Remember to go to church later, Y/n. 
You didn't reply, instead, it got you thinking. 
Nothing will happen if you skip church, right? You've always attended Mass every Sunday with your parents, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with skipping at least once.
Besides, you need to plot your plans for tonight!
~
“What is this girl doing?” Armaros says in a deep whisper, his well-shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply while he watches Y/n on her phone, laying down on her bed as if church isn't just five minutes away from starting. 
Armaros rushes to the other side of the room to get a better view of her human who lays on her stomach, a white wisp of smoke trailing behind him. He shakes his head, crossing his arms together in front of his chest. “Y/n, Y/n,” he tuts, “What are you doing?!” 
He decides to step forward and reaches forward for his hand to caress the crown of your head. He chuckles when he sees your eyes expand in a quick second, your body abruptly sitting up straight from the tingling feeling in your neck. Your hairs stand up, a chill running down your spine. 
This was Armaros’ way of mustering his presence onto you. Your dad always taught that whenever you suddenly feel a chilling sensation out of nowhere, it means that your guardian angel is there with you and trying to send you a message. 
And you clearly know what he's trying to say. 
There was a slight feeling of guilt – uneasiness, even. But no. You've already decided that you weren't going to follow your old routine. 
Armaros’ jaw drops when you don't move from your position on the bed, only making yourself comfortable even further. ”Don’t you dare skip church...” he slowly whispers to himself. But he quickly shakes his head side to side, trying to be optimistic, “It's just one time. Just one time.” 
Time passes by faster than you think, you sink your teeth down on your bottom lip, chewing on it as you try to Google clubs near you. It was ridiculous, feeling so overwhelmed from all of the options the Internet is showing you. 
There was a generous list of bars and clubs with different ratings. It was a humane decision to choose the best one, right? So you went for a nightclub called ‘Soap Seoul’. Although, you feel your stomach churn when you scroll through the images attached to it; seeing all of the strange blue and red LED lights, big and tight crowds, and an HD picture of their bar. The bar was long and almost occupied the width of the whole club. You don't even know if you can stand such a place like that. 
But no. You can't back out now! You had to show yourself and to others that you can have some fun too. 
The club opens tonight at 8 pm, letting yourself have two hours to prepare. Rummaging through your garments of clothing, you try to find an appropriate outfit.
“I have nothing!” you whined, eyebrows furrowing in dismay. All you had were simple t-shirts and countless skinny jeans and leggings. Your dresses were almost knee-length and suitable for church – not for a nightclub! 
Armaros stands at a distance, shaking his head at you. 
Until, you heard a loud knock on the door, “Y/n!” May's voice shouts from the other side of the room, “Dinner's ready!” 
Oh no. 
Quickly opening the door, you stared at her with big, worried eyes. “May! I-uhh, I-I’m not gonna stay for dinner…” you mumbled, looking at the ground. 
“Oh, why is that?” she asks, a faint sad tone in her voice. You felt so sad and regretful that you didn't say anything to her because she already cooked your dinner. 
“I-I have plans for tonight,” you hold your hands behind your back, slightly getting embarrassed. 
“Are you going out with your friends?”
“Y-Yeah!” You lie. You've never lied before. 
“Ah, I understand. Have you told your mom?” 
She doesn't have to know. 
“Yup.” 
And there it was again, the chills in your neck appeared while your arm and leg hairs stood up. Armaros touches your scalp, desperate to seek your attention and bring you back to your old, good self. The angel didn't like that you were lying, for he was perpetually accustomed to your good deeds. It was making him anxious for what's about to come. 
But you ignored his message. May nods when you told her that she can have the food to herself. 
You feel a pang of guilt rush through your body when you shut the door behind you, your heartbeat suddenly racing faster. The nervousness in you made your head hurt. Is this the right thing to do? No. It wasn't. But you had to show people that you can be different. Will it be worth it? Of course. 
Thankfully, you spot a white dress that you've never worn before. It was a gift from your cousins that was supposed to be another addition to your collection of church dresses but it was too short for your liking. 
“Hm, maybe this will work…” you quietly mumble to yourself.
You tried the piece of clothing on, carefully examining your reflection in the full-length mirror. The hem of the skirt falls right above your mid-thigh, too high for your usual comfort but for the sake of dressing up for a nightclub — there was no problem. The dress was snug, hugging your body so that it accentuates your curves.
The dress was plain white and was relatively simple. You don't really know what people usually wear for nightclubs but you were certain that dresses were a part of the code. 
You looked for your black three-inch heel that you last wore during your highschool graduation, slipping it in carefully. Doing a little bit of makeup and applying a thin layer of lip gloss, you grabbed a purse and walked out of your room. 
“May, please don't wait for me, okay?” you say after walking past her. 
“W-Wait, I'm supposed to–”
“It's okay. I'll be okay.”
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“She's not gonna be okay!” Armaros declares, kneeling on one knee before Archangel Michael – the protector and the spiritual warrior, as he mentions Y/n's recent mischiefs.
After you've been to the nightclub the first day, you've never stopped. You became addicted. 
Sometimes you don't even tell May that you're going out, you just sneak out of the window and let May worry about you. You've happened to know how to drink as you get wasted every single night, hanging around with people that you don't know, people that are a bad influence on your good side. These past few days had you acting up like you’ve never before. You longed for alcohol and the feeling of it numbing your nerves, and there’s not a day where you didn’t get drunk.
Armaros’ power wasn't enough to stop you. Every single day he's been drying his best to send signals, to make you feel certain ways and speak to your consciousness that what you are doing is by far dangerous and wrong. But you never listened. 
You've skipped church, stopped talking to God, ignoring your parents’ phone calls, not doing your homework just because you're busy either getting drunk or making out with someone at the club. It's like you have been addicted to misbehaving. 
But for you, you thought you’re doing the right thing. 
“Armaros, are you doubting your powers?” Archangel Michael replies, running his fingertips along the sharp blade of his sword. 
“N-No, but, nothing seems to work. She's been ignoring my calls for almost two weeks. I just want the best for her.” Armaros’ voice fades at the end of his sentence. He was speaking with such sincerity because he really cares for Y/n. He truly loves her. “Why is she doing this?” He asks for help.
“Because, my dear, she's trying to prove something she's not for other people.”
“What?” 
Archangel Michael laughs quietly, staring at him endearingly. He points his sword at him, “She obviously tries to be immoral to fit in. She's rarely praying to God like she used to, rarely respecting the people around her. Ever since humans bullied Y/n for being herself – she starts to change. But the question is…”
He walks around Armaros, his eyes never leaving his. “Is this making her happy?” 
Armaros lowers his head and shakes his head. “I don’t know.” 
The Archangel grins and returns his sword back on the scabbard attached to his belt. 
“If I can't warn her to stop, then who else can?” The angel asks. 
Michael lifts an eyebrow up, crossing his arms together as he stands right in front of him. His mouth draws into a slow smirk, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as if a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. 
“You wanna have some fun, Armaros?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Stand up, stand up.” Armaros quickly obeys his superior’s command. The Archangel places a hand on his right shoulder, preparing to speak. 
“I have an idea. We call Jeon Jungkook up and–” 
“No! Absolutely not! I will not allow Y/n to come face to face with the son of Lucifer!” Armaros bellows, instinctively pushes Michael's hand away from him. 
“Armaros! It's just an idea!” Michael chuckles, spreading his arms to the side as he shakes his head. “And besides, I have to ask permission from our Highness anyway.” 
“And what will he do? Taunt her? Provoke Y/n to be more sinful?” Y/n's guardian angel asks, referring to Jungkook. “We both know how manipulative and cunning he can be!”
“No, no. We'll make a deal with him, of course! No devil will do anything without receiving something in return.” 
“This idea of yours, not to be rude, but is really out of this world.”
Archangel Michael snorts from the out of the blue pun. 
“Do not be afraid. If our Lord agrees to our plan, I'll be watching. I always will. Give me your trust, Armaros.”
Armaros sighs deeply, yet smiles up at him right after. “Okay, I trust you.” 
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“May, stop it,” you mutter angrily, pulling your arm away from her hold. May tries to block your way from going outside the house but you abruptly push her to the side. 
“Y/n! Your mom told you that–” 
“Told me what?! That I’m being independent? Unruly? That I should just stay home? I don’t give a fuck anymore, May. I’d rather hang out with friends than stay here and do nothing!” You bark at her. She was smaller than you and you were definitely giving off that intimidating vibes that you wanted to show. She isn’t the one wearing the pants in this house. You are. 
“Y/n, I will not tolerate this behavior!” May snaps, eyes glaring at you with her hands balled up into fists on her sides. 
Rolling your eyes, you let out a sour chuckle, “You sound like my mom.” 
May sighs deeply, the tiredness in her voice evident, “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Y/n. Just listen to me.” 
“I’m an adult. I can keep myself safe. Now, let me go and don’t wait for me.” 
“Y/n!” 
“Bye May! Have a nice sleep!” 
“Y/n! Where the fuck are you?!” Emilia, one of the new friends you've met no longer than three days ago shouts through the phone as loud, blazing music muffled her voice. “Sophia and I are waiting for you! Get your ass over here!”
“I'm almost there, save me a drink already!” you giggle, looking out from the taxi’s window. 
Sophia snatches the phone out of Emilia’s hand to speak to you, “Y/n, you still remember the bet we made, right?” 
“Of course! It's not a huge deal, c'mon now.” You roll your eyes, faking a laugh. 
“We'll see!” Emilia giggles. 
The driver drops you in front of the nightclub and you throw him a couple of dollars. Stepping out of the car, your high heels clicking on the cement. Upon entering the place, you were immediately greeted with your friends. They were both wearing a tight dress – glittery red and silver – whilst you wore a black one that reached down to your middle thigh. You bought the dress only a day ago, special thanks to your Amazon Prime account . 
“Hey! Here, drink this,” Sophia hands you a single malt whiskey and you swiftly drown it down your throat without any problem. You reminisce back to your first day where you can’t even take a sip of beer without gagging. Now look where you are. 
“Ahh fuck, that tastes good,” you mumble through gritted teeth. 
“Why are you late tonight, Y/n?” Emilia asks as she leads you to the bar to order more alcohol. Her high pitched voice mixing with the loud music,”You know it's always 9 PM. Sharp.” 
You breathe out heavily as you watch Sophia pour three shots of straight vodka into a shot glass. She distributes the beverage to the two of you. 
“Well, uh–” 
“What?” Emilia snaps.
“I couldn't find a goddamn cab, that's why!” you hide your falseness with laughter, hoping they won't sense your lie. 
“Alright anyway, let’s go get wasted and you, Y/n – will be our first player.” Emilia smirks as she crosses her arms together. She analyzes your body, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t like it, and you felt worried. 
Your eyebrows furrow, confused and slightly offended, “What, why me?” You take a sip of your newly-ordered beer, trying to get comfortable on the plush-covered stool. 
“Because,” Sophia answers for her, “we need to know your… capacities.” 
You snort, “Capacities of what? My capacity of having to get into a m-man’s bed? Pffft… easy!” 
Sophia’s forehead furrows, glancing at Emilia with a knowing look before focusing her attention back to you. “Sure. Anyway, let’s have fun first and then…” she leans closer to you, her face inches away from yours. You feel your face redden in embarrassment, “And then you can choose your man.” 
It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t bad dancing around the dance floor, beer in hand, as you danced all your worries away. Emilia and Sophia were out there – somewhere, but you didn’t care about them at this moment. You let your body go with the beat of the loud EDM music, holding your hands up in the air as you whipped your head left to right. You had a huge smile on your face, the alcohol kicking in like it was meant for your body to consume. 
Sweaty bodies were bumping each other from left and right, and you for sure stepped on someone’s toe with your pumps. Nevertheless, you didn’t care. You were having your fun. 
It was until the song changed from upbeat to a more sensual, heart-pumping song from the loud bass. As if there was a switch inside you, you turned into a sultry mess. 
Wasted. You were wasted like hell. 
Your eyes turn into little slits as you look around the dance floor to try and find someone to play with. Taking a huge sip of your drink, your throat burns yet you tried to ignore it. 
“Ah-hah!” you giggle, walking – or should we say, stumbling – towards a guy with black hair parted in the middle, nicely dressed in a black button up tucked in some skinny jeans. The man locks eyes with you, licking his plump lips as his eyes rake your body. 
“Hey there, gorgeous,” he smirks, making you blush in red as he holds your waist and tugs you closer to him. The song in the background was helping you a lot to get into that seductive, sexy mood that you planned to have. 
“Hey,” you smile up at him, “I’m Y/n.” 
“What a pretty name for a pretty lady.” He starts swaying your body to the beat, going along with you. “I’m Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” 
Seokjin tugs your body closer until he holds the back of your head with one hand, making you look deep into his dark eyes. “Y-You’re a new face,” you slur, “You don’t belong here.” 
Unexpectedly, your eyes grow big when Seokjin throws his head back as he laughs almost hysterically. “What?” you question. 
The man slightly leans down until his face draws near to yours, and you can immediately smell the alcohol in his breath. You didn’t judge though, you probably had beer-breath too. 
“Baby girl…” Seokjin suddenly speaks deeply, making your heart jump from the sudden change in his voice. There was a sultry look in his eyes that made it hard for you to keep eye contact. “Baby it’s you who doesn’t seem to belong. You don’t know who I am.” 
“Well y-you don’t know me e-either!” You try to retaliate, although it was messed up with your embarrassing stuttering.  
“You really wanna know?” he whispers, his lips right against your lips, almost touching yours. You couldn’t breathe properly, wanting to pull away but his intoxicating scent was forcing you to him. 
You nod your head, not trusting your voice. 
“I own this place, baby.” 
You almost tossed your cup right across the room from his sudden confession, totally not expecting such a young-looking man to own such a place like this. Your eyes expand, body staying still. 
’Wait! Be sexy… be sexy…’ you thought to yourself after an awkward five seconds of silence. 
You decide to chuckle, biting your bottom lip slowly as you draw yourself nearer to him. He lifts a brow up in surprise, wrapping his arms around your hips and he closes the distance between the two of you. 
“Really? Well then,” you mutter, “I want you to own me too.” 
“Oh, finally. Someone straightforward.” 
“Well I – oh!” Seokjin takes you by surprise when he quickly tugs your arm and leads you to the second floor of the club. You haven’t been in this area before, looking so luxurious and well decorated. Although what shocks you is the series of doors that passes through a long, wide hallway. 
“Seok...Seokjin,” you whisper, but he looks at you with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes. 
“C’mon baby,” he opens a door and walks you inside, locking it behind him. “Let’s have a little fun.” 
Let’s have a little fun. 
Yeah. I should. 
This is fun, right? 
Before you can even process things, Seokjin shoves your body to a wall as his hands start to wander down your sides. With flushed cheeks, you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost but he clearly doesn’t mind, grinding his hips into yours. 
“Mmm, what a cute babe I have in front of me,” he groans, leaning forward to pepper wet, gentle kisses all over your neck and down to your shoulders. 
Something feels off. 
“Y/n, right?” he asks, his forehead furrows and you nod. “Can I kiss you?”
Your heart starts to rapidly pump inside your chest, feeling as if it’ll burst at any minute. An uncomfortable feeling starts to overwhelm your system, sensing your palms getting sweaty. You can’t look at his eyes, looking anywhere but him. 
“Uh, o-okay,” you straighten your back as you try your best to look confident. 
This is the perfect opportunity to tell your friends. Having sex with someone like him will absolutely impress Emilia and Sophia. 
Seokjin chuckles, shrugging, “Alright then.” And without any warning, he throws you on the bed and he quickly hovers above your body. 
“Mmph–!” he immediately presses his lips into yours before you can even react to everything that had just happened. He caresses your cheeks with both hands, his lips moving softly with yours. You try your best to keep up with him and his pace, but you can’t. There was something stopping you from giving him your all. Seokjin grunts nevertheless, humping you. 
Seokjin’s right hand snakes down to grab the hem of your dress as he teasingly pulls the fabric up, then lets it snap back down. There was a weird feeling inside your stomach, and it did not feel good at all. 
His hand slowly starts creeping up your leg, and that’s where you couldn’t hold it back. 
“Mmm, n-no,” you mewl, pushing him away from you. Seokjin stares down at you with a frown, head tilted to the side. 
“Y/n?” 
Rapid heart rate, the back of your neck sweating, and chills all over your body occur all at the same time. You were panicking. 
“I-I…” immediately you stand up from the bed, hiking your stupid short dress down as much as you can. “S-Sorry,” furiously shaking your head from side to side, you stumble your way to the door. 
“Y/n, wait!” Seokjin yells, confused yet he felt sorry at the same time. “Let’s talk about it!” 
“No,” you whisper. You can’t do this anymore. There was no energy left in your body to talk, to process what just happened, to stand in this fucking club. Home. All you were thinking about was going home. 
You twist the doorknob open, trying to catch your breath as much as you can but you feel like you were going to pass out any minute. Making your way down the stairs, you run as fast as you can towards the exit of the nightclub yet a person catches your arm. 
“Y/n!” Your eyes widen when Emilia and Sophia stop you, observing your state. “What’s wrong with you?” 
“No…” you breathe tirelessly, “c-can’t do it…” 
“You failed?” Emilia snaps as she leans her body on one hip, resting her hands there. She looks at you with disgust, “But we saw the guy that you’re with! He was hot!” 
Sophia snorts, smirking as she stares at you sourly, “Proves our point. You’re nothing, Y/n. You had such an easy job, the guy’s already all over you and you just had to throw him? Where is he, let me get with him myself.” Sophia struts away, heels clicking as she flips her long hair over her shoulder, leaving you with Emilia. 
“What can I say, Y/n,” she smiles menacingly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, “You can never be like us.” 
Your whole body felt heavy, heavy like you were carrying a boulder behind your back. This isn’t what you had planned at all, everything was going so well until this! Your eyes started welling up with tears, blurring your sight. You had to go. 
Without saying a word, you quickly run away to the exit, ignoring Emilia’s insensitive laugh. 
What went wrong? Why did you feel that way? Negative thoughts were clouding your mind as you cried and cried to your poor, soaked pillow. 
Maybe you are just not enough. Perhaps you’re not meant to be like this. 
It was fun the first time around, and you were actually enjoying yourself. But the days passed and you sadly weren't doing this for your own pleasure anymore, but for the validation of other people. 
You should’ve stopped Seokjin from touching you when it clearly made you uncomfortable. There was a line and he crossed it, but you erased that line so you can finally say that you’ve slept with someone. But you guessed it wasn’t that easy. 
Grabbing your phone, you ignored all of the rude messages Emilia has sent you, blocking her and Sophia’s number. You turned off your phone, throwing it somewhere on the ground without care before you switched off your lamp. There was never a time that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, but tonight was your first. 
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“And what do I get in return for this deal?” Jeon Jungkook purrs with a low, dark tone, crossing his legs together as he sits on his father’s fire-blazing throne. Even though he has his own throne for himself, thrones on fire were way cooler. He scans the frightened angel from head to toe through the strands that fell in front of his eyes. 
“The A-Archangel says you will obtain a soul. A soul that is longing for hell.” Armaros stutters as he tries to keep eye contact with the devil’s hard glare. 
Jungkook chuckles, hanging his head low. “You mean to tell me…” he starts to stand up and walks towards the angel. Armaros tries his best to keep his guard up and stand as tall as possible. 
Jungkook circles around him, arms crossed while his right hand plays with his bottom lip, “That I should convince this little girl to prevent doing bad, bad things to stop her from going to hell?” He laughs hysterically. “That’s quite… an unnatural job for a devil, isn’t it? It’s completely the opposite of what i’m supposed to do. Tell Michael that his plan is utter bullshit.”
Armaros takes a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a brief second before replying. “Firstly, Y/n is not a little girl. And second, this job is easy. You have the skill to persuade humans to sin – what’s hard with doing the opposite? Besides, you’ll obtain a soul either way.” 
His words made Jungkook ponder and deliberate with himself. He stops in front of Armaros and shows him his signature imposing smile. “I can have my way with the girl, right?” He bites his lip, “Anyway I want?” 
This made Armaros’ eyes go wide, mouth opening but no words seem to come out properly, “I-I… w-well, um… yes? Yes? P-Perhaps? Just don’t do anything bad to her.” 
Jungkook scoffs, running his long tongue over his teeth as he smirks, “Define bad, Mr. Angel.” 
“You know… hurt her.” He gulps.
The devil squints his eyes, absolutely loving Armaros’ reactions. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill her, if that’s what you mean.” 
“I’m done with this conversation.” Armaros quickly chirps as he unfolds his large, white wings. “Remember what your main goal is, Jungkook. I’m counting on you.” 
Jungkook stops him before he flies back up. “Armaros…” he says, dragging his name long in his tongue. Armaros looks at him, eyes impatient, arms crossed together. 
“You know I’m a devil, right?” 
The angel chuckles, scoffing, “Oh, I know that alright.” He scorns, eyeing Jungkook up and down. Although the devil in front of him looks intimidating and his eyes are jet black, Armaros keeps his calm. “I’m only following orders. I didn’t agree with The Archangel in the first place.” 
“Do you know what devils do to… humans?” 
Armaros nods fully. 
“And what I might do to… that precious little girl?” Jungkook growls deeply, walking closer to him. He tilts his head down, looking at him through his lashes, “There’s a huge chance that I might not control myself when I see her.” 
“What do you mean?” 
Suddenly, black smoke appears from Jungkook’s right hand, summoning something beside him. The smoke appears to subside and at once, Y/n’s appearance can be seen through the thin air. Jungkook rests his hips on one side, twirling his hand so that her image spins around. 
“This is Y/n, right?” Jungkook studies your face, watching you read a book inside your room. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful before.” 
“Jeon Jungkook!” Armaros bellows, his tone loud yet sprinkled with fear. 
“I’m just saying, Angel. You can’t stop me from trying to do devilish things to her.” Jungkook smirks, prodding his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “You might have to reconsider this deal of yours if you don’t want me to have my way with that pretty little girl,” He taunts, already warning Armaros.
“Jungkook,” Armaros’ nerves seem to heat up, slowly getting irritated although he tries to calm himself. He looks down, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. You think she wants to have an affair with someone like you?” 
The devil laughs loudly as he twirls his hand until your image disappears. This conversation further proves Jungkook’s argument that angels are actually dumber than they realize. 
“If you want me to help you, I will have my way with her. My job, my rules. Understand?”
Armaros feels defeated, but he can’t say anything but nod and agree to him. He can’t fight him anyway. Jungkook dismisses him, and with that, the angel ascends back up to earth. 
Jungkook can’t wait to have his fun. 
~
Prancing around, making friends, getting to know each other – Jungkook doesn’t want to do that. Instead, he’s very straightforward, saying words that he probably shouldn’t, he likes to say what he thinks no matter how bad it’ll probably hurt. 
That’s what he plans to do with you. 
If he gets his point clear, make you frightened, scare the shit out of you, then the job would be complete. 
Easy! 
You were currently on your laptop, scrolling through your pinterest tabs until you hear loud and frantic knocks on your door. “Y/n!” May shrieks, her voice quivering. “Someone’s at the door!” 
Oh no, you thought. 
Immediately hopping out of bed, you went out to see who it was with May following behind you. You peak out through the windows and suddenly, you inhale sharply from the man that you see. 
He was unfamiliar. Thankfully, it wasn’t Seokjin or Sophia nor Emilia, but rather tall, might you say handsome looking man waiting outside your doorstep. He was dressed in all black, his hair covering his eyes. 
“Do you know him?” May asks quietly. You shake your head slowly, “N-No.” 
“Y/n… I think you should just leave him.” 
“May, I can handle it. You can go now.” You say softly to her. 
“Are you sure—”
“Yes.” You spat a little harshly, blazing your eyes at her. May nods, sighing as she walks away to her room. 
Gathering the courage to open the door, you took a deep inhale and exhale, calming your nerves. 
Once you open the door, your eyes immediately fly to his dark ones. Your whole body suddenly shivers, the air around the place somewhat getting cold as if it was winter. 
You can't take your eyes off of the man. You have never met him before but it felt like you've known him for too long. There was a strange aura surrounding the two of you that you can't explain. 
“Hello.” He speaks first, giving you a sly smile. 
His voice. You've never heard such a dark and menacing timbre before. 
“Hi,” you gulp, “Who are you?” 
“May I come in?” Jungkook snaps, ignoring your question. He doesn't want to waste any time, that's for sure. 
You furrow your brows as you shake your head, “Answer my question first.” You blurt, blocking the entrance by placing your hands on either side of the doorway. 
“Hm,” Jungkook slowly shows you a deadly smirk, eyeing your body up and down. “You really wanna know?” 
What kind of a question is that? 
You quickly got annoyed, looking at him with a scorn. “Obviously!”
Feisty, Jungkook thought. 
“I'm the devil.”
There was a long pause, silence filling the air. This man is too handsome to be this dumb. You laugh hysterically, bending over as you hold your aching stomach. “A-Are you… oh my god… please tell me you're fucking joking!” you say with creased eyes. 
Jungkook already expected this reaction, and he only rolls his eyes without you noticing. 
“Mhm. You don't believe me?” he slowly pronounces his words, voice deep and sinister. 
“Nah,” you shake your head, giggling. 
“Aren't you religious?” Jungkook pushes you to the side without hesitation and enters, your eyes expanding slowly as his body suddenly comes in contact with yours. “Don't you believe in your God? You believe in angels, right?” He backs your body up and shuts the door loudly behind him. 
You felt a series of chills erupt from your system, his gaze locked on yours. You wanted to look away from his intimidating gaze, but you can't, for some strange reason. “Huh, Y/n?”
You gasp. “Wait, h-how do you know my name!?” 
Jungkook smirks at you, tilting his head to the side as he ignores your question again. 
Your body seems to move by itself, like you can't control your own limbs. The air thickens around the two of you as you feel your body submit to the man in front of you. 
Sighing, with a shaky voice you answer. “I do. I do believe in them.”
Although what shocks you is the way his eyes suddenly turn a bright shade of red. From deep black to red, his irises glow. 
“What the fuck–” you quickly back away, body shivering in fear until your back hits a wall. You rub your eyes, trying to see if your mind was only playing tricks with you. 
Jungkook grins and chuckles darkly, clicking his tongue. “Then…” he draws, walking closer to your frightened figure, “Can this convince you enough?” 
“S-Stop… stop playing games with me!” you whimper, feeling your palms get sweaty. “Your eyes are red!” 
“Hmm, I wonder why,” Jungkook snarls, forehead creasing, “Maybe because I'm the fucking devil?” 
And in a flash, Jungkook’s appearance changes from a tall, handsome boy into a dark red figure. Black, bat-like wings sprout from his back, long horns appearing from his forehead, a spear-like tail behind him. His lips and the area around his eyes were tinted in black while his fingers grew longer, sharper. 
You almost fainted then and there. 
“Oh— p-please,” your eyes turn watery as tears start to fall down your cheek, lifting your hands up to your mouth in shock, “please d-don't kill me!” Shutting your eyes to avoid the frightening image in front of you, your knees drop down to the floor with a loud thud. “I'm sorry, please f-forgive me! Don't k-kill me! Please!” 
“Oh, what a cute pretty girl you are,” the devil grins, his voice more gravelly now. He looks down at your frail self, amused. “I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to teach you a lesson.” 
You start to sob as your body shakes, “No! Please d-don't…”  
“Do you believe me now?”
“Yes! Yes I do!” you quickly reply, voice cracking. “I’m sorry s-sir, don’t hurt me!” 
Jungkook, satisfied with your reaction, morphs back to his normal human look within a few seconds. “Look at me.”
Slowly, afraid to anger the devil in front of you, you obey his words. You sigh in relief when he finally looks normal again, but you can't look at him the same way. 
“Stand up.”
You do so with wobbly legs. You felt so weak with your energy quickly drained so quickly. Wiping your tear-stained cheeks, you try your best to keep your composure. 
“Anyway, I'm Jungkook,” he gives you an award-winning smile, “I'm sent here to supposedly warn you from doing bad things.” He cringes, shaking his head. “Which, honestly speaking, I think is atrocious.”
He scans your body, biting his lip right after. “A good looking girl like you should have her fun.” 
You try to regain your senses back. A devil — a real devil appeared right in front of you. You can't seem to shake the thought away while he’s there looking so handsome in his human form. 
With a shaky breath, you ask him, “J-Jungkook? I'm really sorry. I don't know what I'm doing.” 
He snorts. Brushing his black hair away from his face. “Wrong. You know what you're doing.” 
“W-What?” 
Something in the air changes when Jungkook snaps his fingers. A thick, black smoke appears, capsuling the both of you in. “What is this?!” you question, terror overtaking your face. You watch your surroundings getting blurry, blackness covering the area. 
“Oh nothing,” he gives you a lopsided grin, “just making sure that your little angels can't see us.” 
Jungkook's eyes shine and his pupils enlarge, smiling as you notice how his teeth grow sharper. There were veins popping out in his neck, grimacing at you in pure excitement.  
“We can't afford your poor, guardian angel to stop us now, can't we? I don't want him to see us…playing.” 
“Playing?!” You gasp, eyes expanding in shock.. 
“Yes, baby. Angels are so fucking dumb, aren't they? Asking a devil to do their own work? Isn't that pathetic.”
You were locked to him like a magnet as your body seems to fill with utter desire in such a quick time. 
Was he doing something to you?!
A series of pleasurable chills erupt from your body, mouth getting dry as you look up at Jungkook with big eyes. 
His hand suddenly touches your bare arm, making you silently mewl from his chilling touch. He smirks at your reaction, “How dumb of them to trust the son of Lucifer himself.”
“Y-You… you're…” your voice fades, trying to process his words. 
“Mhm. Aren't you excited to play with me?” 
Maybe he's doing tricks to your mind, controlling your body – or maybe you’re just fucked up. Either way, you want him. 
You lust for him. 
“Yes.”
Jungkook draws his lower lip between his teeth, his hands finding its way to your waist, holding you firmly until he unexpectedly pulls you to his body. He lifts a single eyebrow up, “Really?” 
Your heartbeat quickens. 
“I've… I’ve never been more sure.” Words seem to spill out of your mouth without your consent, as if it wasn’t you who’s speaking. But you don’t try to take your words back.  
Jungkook laughs and starts to lift you up without struggle, finding his way to your bedroom while the smoke follows the two of you. “Bad, bad girl you are.” He lowers you down on the mattress, sending you a seductive wink, “I'm so fucking proud.” 
He preps himself on his knees, capturing your thighs in between. His eyes run down your body, chills running down your spine from how hot he looks. His figure was so big and muscular, making you feel like he can destroy your frail self. 
“Look at this, you look so fucking delicious baby.” 
His hand suddenly flies down to your armpits, roughly handling you as he carries you up as he sits down on the bed, his back pressed against the headboard, as he places you in between his legs. 
You hold back a whimper as he pushes your body closer to him. Hearing him growl deeply made your cunt throb, feeling a strange wet feeling down there. 
“Demons can't help humans,” he mutters lowly, his lips right against the shell of your ear. “They want you to sin and sin and sin until the day you fucking die.” 
His hands play with your shirt until in a quick flash, he rips the cotton material in half, your body shivering as it has been exposed to the cold air. “Ohh,” you whimper, covering your body with your arms. 
“Nu-uh,” Jungkook grins behind you, “Don't do that, baby.” He leans down and starts pressing wet and sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, running his mouth up to your neck. “Don't try to hide away from me.”
He sucks on the soft skin of your neck, his big dick throbbing in his pants from the way you were constantly squirming. You were so sensitive, and it made him so horny. He hums, marking your skin in bright red and purple bruises. 
“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moan, throwing your head back until it rests right against his shoulder. 
His hands suddenly fly to your breasts, his long and slender fingers pinching and twisting your hardened nipples. You bite your bottom lip as you can't seem to open your eyes from the feeling. It was until Jungkook suddenly digs his nails into your nipples, pinching them roughly that made you jolt right up. 
“Oh, t-that hurts,” you cry, the stinging feeling of his sharp nails pinching your buds. Jungkook watches your face contort, digging his nails even harder. He feels your body twitch, hearing your gentle whines and mewls. 
“Ohhh you don't like it baby, does it hurt too much for your sensitive, precious body?” he mocks a concerned tone. “Hm?” 
He was playing games with you, that's for sure. You nod your head up and down, trying to push his hands away. “Mhm…” 
Thankfully, he does stop but he quickly cups your breasts with both hands. He feels your rock-hard nipples pushing against his rough palms, kneading your boobs until he finally lets go. 
“Take these off,” he instructs you to pull your shorts down, and you do so. With trembling hands, you swiftly tug them off of your legs. 
“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts behind you, his right hand lowering down from your stomach until it reaches the destination right against your clothed pussy. His fingers slowly trace down your slick, feeling how wet you are through your panties. 
He smirks cockily, “You're fucking drenched, baby. Are you this horny?” he rubs your clit in slow, circular motions with just the right amount of pressure with the tips of his two fingers, your legs shivering. “Want something to stuff that little hole of yours?” 
He pulls your underwear down to your thighs, and you instantly shake it off with your legs. Jungkook pushes your legs apart, forcing your knees up with your feet flat on the mattress. Your cunt flutters around air from the exposure. You whine when his left arm possessively wraps around your stomach, his biceps flexing when he holds you tightly. 
“Stay fucking still,” he growls, his warm hand cupping your bare cunt. He chuckles, prodding his tongue against his cheek as he plays with your folds. He uses two slender fingers to spread your labia apart and you can feel your glistening arousal drip from your hole down to your ass. 
Jungkook hums in satisfaction, spreading your lips wider, making you emit a moan. “Jungkook—”
“No. I want you to call me something…” he elongates the pause in his sentence to suddenly insert the tip of his middle finger in your pussy, causing you to jump. “Something else, baby.” 
“Ah-ahh, what?” your legs couldn't stop trembling as he pushes his finger deeper, your walls sucking it in deliciously. 
You can feel him smirk against the skin of your neck, he snickers, “Starts with the letter D.” 
Your eyes squint in confusion, tilting your head up to look at him. Jungkook, with his glowing red eyes, scans your face with a quirked eyebrow expectantly. 
“Devil?” 
Jungkook scoffs loudly and instantly pushes the rest of his finger in your cunt, immediately pumping in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands quickly hold onto his arm that was wrapped around you, mouth agape from the sudden thrusts. “Ohhh!” your body shakes, leaning your head against him. Electric waves of pleasure run through your body, being new to the sensation. 
He growls as he removes his finger out to slap your pussy harshly, hitting your sensitive clit. “Wrong.” 
“Oww…” you mewl, your hips bucking up from the sting. He does this again, and again, and again, making your eyes watery. He tightens his hold on you, stopping you from squirming too much. 
“Daddy.” He purrs. 
Your body instantly feel a series of shivers. 
“Call me daddy.” Jungkook bites your neck roughly while he inserts his digits back, this time using his middle and ring finger. You hiss in pleasure, eyes tempting to roll back when he brushes the sponge-like texture inside your pussy. 
“Shit, right there daddy,” you curse, rolling your hips against his hand for more. “Right there!” 
Jungkook feels his cock harden even more, precum dripping down his tip as it twitches against his clothes. The way you pronounce that certain word drove him crazy. Jungkook loves how your body easily crumbles beneath him as you allow him to have all the control. He pounds your pussy faster with his hand, putting his bicep to good use. 
You were about to cum, the feeling of a tightness inside your tummy, a ball about to burst at any second. You warn Jungkook, “Daddy, i-i think… I think I'm gonna c-cum,” you sob. 
“I know.” He says simply, fucking you harder. Suddenly, he pushes his index finger in, three digits stretching your walls out. You cry loudly, thrashing around him as high-pitched moans carelessly leave your mouth. “Shiiiiit, d-daddy!” 
“Need to stretch this little pussy out for my cock” he purrs, “cuz’ we don’t want that tiny hole of yours to split into two, right baby?” 
Your toes curl, nails digging into the skin of his arm as you fail to warn him that you're gonna cum any second now. Although he can feel the way your pussy was pulsing around his long fingers. He angled his hand until your clit was brushing against his palm, “Daddy! Ohh fuck, just l-like that!”
Until it all stops. 
All of the pleasure stops when Jungkook pulls his fingers out. 
“Fuuuuuuuck!” you yell, never been more frustrated before as he denies your orgasm. You were about to cum so hard. Your legs shake uncontrollably, scratching his arms as your body shudders. Your poor cunt pulsates rapidly from the sour loss. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess. 
Laughing dryly behind you was Jungkook, licking his fingers clean as he watches your dignity wash away right in front of his eyes. 
“Fuck you,” you scowl, pushing away his arms and turning to face him. “Fuck. You.” 
But he wasn't bothered at all, of course. He was the devil after all. He had no remorse.
Before you know it, Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat and swiftly pulls you close to his face. You gulp, terrified from the intimidating look in his eyes. 
Jungkook thinks that he can easily kill you then and there. If it were a different person, he wouldn't hesitate to snap their neck like a stick. Usually he would feel tempted to physically hurt a person in this kind of situation. But no. He likes you. He likes you too much to kill.
“Take my cock out.”
Even though you hate him for denying your orgasm so brutally like that, you nod your head. Jungkook removes his shirt as you scoot down. You were careful to unbutton his pants, heart rate going faster from the thought of seeing his cock right in front of your face. By the look of the large tent evident, he was gonna be huge. Jungkook watches you with heavy eyes, running his hand through your hair softly. 
You pull the garment down and your mouth visibly waters from the sight. The outline of his cock was evident from his briefs, long and thick and was certainly rock hard. You were so afraid to even touch it as you let your hands sit right on his thighs. 
“Haven't done this before?” he asks, rubbing your cheek with one hand. You shake your head, afraid to look at his glaring eyes. 
Jungkook chortles, quickly pulling his underwear down by himself.
His cock immediately springs out and rests on his abdomen. With wide, surprised eyes, you notice his red tip leaking so much precum, dripping down his abs. You involuntarily whine and wiggle your hips in need, your wetness dripping down your thigh. 
“Take it in your mouth.” He orders, voice strict and demanding. 
“But—” 
“Did I stutter?” 
“No daddy.” You whisper, looking away and finally gathering the courage to wrap your hands around his girth. You clench your thighs together when you feel him against your palm – warm and heavy, yet the skin was soft at the same time. When you stroke his shaft up and down watching how his precum pours down to your hands, providing you lubrication as it coats his cock. 
Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles down at you, feeling so good. He bucks his hips up repeatedly, meeting your timid strokes. 
His patience runs out and slaps your hand away, gripping his cock tightly. Suddenly, he slaps his dick on your cheek, making lewd and wet sounds. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 
Obeying his command, you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. You taste the saltiness of his seed on your tongue, trying your best to take more of him. His thick girth was making it hard for you as your jaw immediately feels sore. 
His hand flies to grip your hair, making you whine around his cock, causing vibrations. “Look at that pretty little mouth tryna’ take this cock,” he smirks, “Go deeper baby. Gag around my cock if you don't wanna be punished.” 
Your hips swivel in need from his words, pussy soaking like a river. You slack your jaw as you sink down on his cock, trying to ignore the harsh gags when his tip hits the back of your throat. Jungkook growls loudly above you, seeing that the corners of your mouth were dripping in saliva. 
He uses both of his hands to force you deeper. Your eyes start to water when you swallow just half of his big dick, already being too much for you. The harsh and wet gagging sounds were music to Jungkook's ear, loving to see you struggle. “Mhm, fuck yes,” he grunts, “Choke on that big dick.” 
He keeps you down there, feeling sinister as his devilish instincts get the best of him. He ignores your cries and pleads, only focusing on the feeling of the sweet vibrations whenever you moaned around him. Or whenever your throat closes around his shaft when you choked, it was all too good for him. 
You immediately tapped on his thighs furiously when you can't take it anymore, but what did he do? He starts fucking your mouth with sharp thrusts of his hips. You whimper, closing your eyes tight as your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. He grabs you by your head as he uses your poor mouth for pleasure. 
Trying to breathe through your nose, you ignore the burning sensation in your mouth yet it feels too good. “Ahhhh holy fucking shit,” he grunts, feeling your throat tighten, “Look at that – fuck. Bad little girl aren't you? Mhm? You're my bad, naughty girl.” Jungkook mocks, watching the stream of tears drip down your cheeks. 
Finally, he pulled out and there were thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He groans loudly, his cock twitching as it lays back on his stomach. 
“Ohh, c'mere baby girl, come here.” Jungkook whispers and pulls your body close to him. You straddle his lap, feeling his cock beneath your folds that made you hiss. He wraps his strong arms around you, his face inches close to yours. You try not to be intimidated by his menacing eyes, but he notices this and clutches your throat with one hand, squeezing it again that made you inhale sharply. Jungkook sees your pout, your lips bruised from your numerous bites, and he chuckles. 
He tugs you until his lips are right upon your ear. “You wanna cum, baby?” 
Your body shivers from how deep and alluring his voice was, although you nod your head. “Please, daddy.” 
“Oh but do you deserve it? Do you even deserve a cock like mine?” 
You hate how frustrated he can make you. You punch your hands down on his chest, whining, “I-I do…” 
Jungkook quirks a brow up, immediately forcing your hands behind your back. He roughly grasps your wrists together with one hand, surely leaving a red bruise. He bites his lip, “You do?” He swiftly lands a spank on your right ass cheek, making you moan. “Then sink down on my cock.” 
With a puff of your breath, Jungkook helps you align his dick to your sopping entrance. You couldn’t breathe properly, anticipating what will happen as soon as you slowly sink yourself on his thick tip. 
“Ohhh daddy!” Your walls stretch out as you take his tip in, making you feel a harsh, stinging sensation as he rips your walls. If it wasn’t with his impressive girth, it probably wouldn’t hurt as much. Jungkook grunts, his cock throbbing from the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. 
“Fuck yeah,” he watches your pussy take him further, your juices coating his shaft. He tightens his hold on your wrists, slightly bucking his hips up. Jungkook lands another hard, loud spank. 
“Daddy you're so b-big,” you moan, almost halfway down his dick but you can't take more of him anymore. Jungkook gets turned on from the sweet tone of your voice, the thought of tainting such a girl like you made him chuckle. 
Jungkook feeds himself from the idea of corrupting you, letting you know how it feels to truly rebel. Who the fuck cares about what your parents think? Humans are all going to die anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun. 
You start to bounce up and down slowly, your pussy rubbing against him, feeling the thick protruding veins upon your walls. You dig your nails onto your palm, eyes closed shut as you prop yourself up to your feet. 
“That's it, baby. Ride daddy's cock,” he insinuates, watching your face contort in pleasure. With your eyebrows knitted together, eyes shut and mouth wide open, Jungkook’s cock throbs inside of you.
“Look at that fucking face, cant take it?” he snickers. 
“I can, I can,” you pant tirelessly, legs getting sore. Your brows drew deeper as you concentrated on the feeling of his cock hitting your sensitive nerves so good, already so close to an orgasm from how big he is. 
But Jungkook wanted more. He wants it harder, rougher. He wants to shoot his hot cum so hard and deep inside your fresh womb, filling you up. He wants to wreck your body until you break. 
So he releases your hands free and instead grabs a hold of your waist firmly, keeping you still. He plants his feet on the bed and starts to thrust his hips up like crazy. 
Your jaw drops into an ‘o’ shape and you release a particular loud squeal. Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder, throwing your head back as he continues to drill your abused cunt. His balls slap against your ass, creating lewd slapping noises. 
“Dadddyyyyy!” you shriek, eyes expanding so wide from the unexpected bliss of electric currents shooting down your spine. You can't handle it, your orgasm snapping in a quick second. “I'm—!” 
Jungkook groans loudly when your pussy squirts your cum all over his dick and gushes all over his stomach. He fucks you through your mind-blowing orgasm, your eyes rolling back to your head as your legs shake from the unexpecting feeling. Your mind seems to cloud in lust as he doesn’t stop fucking you. 
“Shit,” he laughs, “look at this poor little girl.” Jungkook caresses your ass before he spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth, kneading the bruised flesh right after. “Squirting all over daddy. You love my big cock so much, huh? You horny, desperate little slut.” 
Before you can even process what he just said, he flips you over until you lay down flat on your stomach. He hovers on top of you, keeping his dick in without pulling out. You yelp as he wraps his big hand around your throat, tightly squeezing your jugular without mercy. 
“A-ahhh oh—” you choke, letting your forehead down to rest on the sheets as he continues to pound you from behind. 
He had absolutely no mercy, using you as his little fucktoy for his pleasure, abusing your pussy like it was made for his demon cock. He chokes you harder, almost making you see stars. 
Your cunt throbs once again, signalling that another orgasm is coming near. “Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck fuck!” you moan, heavy puffs of breath coming out of your mouth every time he thrusts into you. 
Jungkook feels his nerves getting hotter and hotter, his cock aching to cum. He doesn't think of anything else but the way your walls clench so tightly around him. “Gonna break this motherfucking pussy of yours,” he growls, leaning down until his chest presses against your sweaty back. “I'm gonna fucking paint your walls with my cum, baby. You're gonna take all of it, you're gonna take all of daddy's cum in that tight cunt.”
Your legs squirm, hands closing into fists as you hit the bed over and over from how sensitive you become. Your hands claw the sheets tightly, back arching from the breathtaking pleasure. 
“Ahhhh daddy! Ohh my fucking— ahhh yes, yes yes!” your body crumbles, mouth wide open as you scream while you cum for the second time. Your pussy pulses so harshly around his dick, coating it with your juices, making it more wet for him. 
He groans, removing his hand from your throat and slaps your ass again. “Naughty little shit right here.” It was so messy, just how he likes it. His cum covered in your glistening arousal, fucking you through your high. 
He immediately flips you around again, making you face him. He smirks cockily from your flushed chest and face, noticing that you were having trouble opening your eyes. 
He leans down and rests his forearms beside your head, “Take it baby, take it.” he murmurs roughly, his balls getting heavier. “Take my fucking dick.”
Your legs never seem to stop quivering, everything around you seems blurry besides Jungkook's face. How does he still look so handsome and perfect? His black hair falls down his forehead, swaying with every hard thrust, his deep dimples peeking through when he bites his lower lip slowly while he savors the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. 
“Gonna cum in you baby,” he pants, holding your cheek in one hand. “Daddy’s gonna cum so fuckin’ hard for you.” You notice a dark, sinister forming his lips as he looks down at you. There it was again, that intimidating, almost teasing look. 
He growls roughly, hips staying still inside you as he dips down to gnaw at your shoulder. You hiss, whimpering when he sinks his teeth so harshly into your delicate skin, leaving an ugly mark. “Ah-ahh, daddy!” His cock spurts out warm strings of his seed, filling you up to the brim. 
“Mmm, mmm, fuck yeah,” he moans, “take it, Y/n.” 
When he pulls his cock out, his pupils enlarge as he sees your arousal dripping out of your cunt and onto your bed. He chuckles, stroking his cock a couple of times to milk himself furthermore, not wasting any of his sperm.
The two of you were breathless, breathing heavily. Your legs feel so sore and you can't feel them either, your ass stinging from his numerous rough spanks. 
“Clean yourself up, Y/n.” Jungkook suddenly throws you a wet towel, about to ask him where it came from, although he just stares at you blankly with a quirked brow. 
Gulping, you nod and start wiping yourself clean. 
~
He can't leave now. Not after all of this. 
There was something that attracted yourself to him. You can't seem to grasp what it is – but whenever Jungkook looks at you in the eyes, you feel like submitting. 
It was like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. He possesses your body now. 
“Crawl to me, my love.” He whispers, and you were easily drawn to his beautiful eyes. 
Still naked, you do as you're told and crawl towards the edge of the bed where he stands. He wears his pants, thankfully covering his goods. 
He sighs and softly caresses your cheek with a warm hand, making you flutter your eyes shut whilst leaning against his palm. He hums delightfully, smirking. 
“Surrender.” He purrs, eyes drooping down as he looks at you with such gentleness, almost with care. He leans down until your faces are mere inches away from each other. “Surrender to me, my love. And I’ll take you to somewhere you belong.”
Your eyes shimmer, batting your eyelashes as you gawk up at him with eagerness. “W-Where I belong?” you repeat in question.
“Yes, Y/n.” He smiles, showing you his perfect teeth. “Where no one will judge you, no one will criticize you for you. You can be whoever you want, you can do whatever you want. Isn’t that exciting, baby?”
Mouth getting dry, your nerves heat up once again, feeling nothing but anticipation. “Yes.”
Jungkook holds your face in two hands, compelling you to stare unswervingly at his red eyes. “Submit to me, Y/n, and you’ll never worry about this earth’s dreadful problems.” His voice gravelly yet dark, somehow different to his normal human speaking voice. 
You didn’t know what he really means by ‘submit’, or where he was supposed to take you. But your mind was telling you to go. Your consciousness speaks to you like someone was whispering in your ear what to do. You kneel before him, still keeping eye-contact. The air around the two of your shifts and it suddenly grows warm as your body starts to sweat.
“Where are…” your voice was breathy, “Where are you taking me?”
Jungkook starts to chuckle, brushing your hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, your heart races when he presses a tender, wet kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widen, heart beating out of your chest when he continues to kiss you down to the bridge of your nose, until it stops right upon your lips. He hovers his mouth right against yours, feeling his warm breath.
He whispers the words so ominously that goosebumps appear all over your arms and legs. “I’m gonna take you down to hell.” 
Jungkook watches your face go pale, all the blood leaving your face as you gaze at him with such big, surprised eyes. Without warning, he presses his lips against yours. You can’t keep up with him, his kiss rough and dominating. You whimper when his hand goes to wrap itself around your throat, pulling you closer. His tongue easily slips in your mouth, causing you to gasp. Jungkook smirks through the kiss as he controls the way your mouth moves. The two muscles dance together with such need and passion, hands getting sweaty. 
He bites your bottom lip, chewing on the soft flesh while he gently rolls it against his teeth. Jungkook growls, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t seem to get enough of you, wanting you all for himself. He’s addicted to you; your scent, your beautiful eyes, your body, he doesn’t want to leave this earth without you. 
He needs you down with him. 
Jungkook pulls out as he watches your flushed face, all out of breath. There was nothing else that you could do but whine about the loss of his lips. You were craving more of him. You pout, hoping that he’ll give in but Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk. 
“Answer me, baby. Go down with me, and I’ll treat you so good.” He insinuates, “I’ll treat you like my own fucking queen. Don’t you want that?” 
You nod your head furiously, “I do want that,” you say softly. 
He clicks his tongue, “Tch, louder.” 
“I want it, please. Bring me with you.” Jungkook watches your pupils dilate, growing bigger as you speak. “Please.” 
Jungkook smiles. And within a flash, the black smoke that was encircling the two of you all this time thickens and starts to wash over the two of you. You cough uncontrollably yet Jungkook just stands there and watches. The smoke fills your lungs until you lose consciousness. 
~
Sounds of the crackling fire fills your eardrums, and your body tries to accommodate the scorching heat of your surroundings. 
Opening your eyes, you see that you’re nowhere in your room, or in the overworld. All that your eyes can see was miles and miles of dark red and black hills, huge torches of fire everywhere, scattered all over the place. There were girls and boys dressed in all black outfits, walking around the place with blank faces, eyes having stripped off of their emotions.
You look down on yourself and thankfully, you were wearing clothes. A tight red dress that hugs your body perfectly, enhancing your curves.
“Y/n.”
A soft voice calls out your name, and you whip around to see Jungkook in his demon form, smiling at you as he sits on his throne. You feel a warm, familiar feeling in your heart as if coming home and going to bed from a long trip. His blazing eyes lead you to a trance.
He beckons you to him for he lifts his right hand out to you. He eyes your body up and down, fixing his posture whilst he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The way your hips gently sways as you make your way towards him – not losing eye contact – and how your irises burn in desire, it was all that Jungkook asks for.
Your legs move without your permission, leading you up the stone steps to his throne.
His hand was warm when you grasp it, although it was rough and almost hard unlike his human skin, you touch as if there was no difference. You weren’t afraid anymore. Jungkook signals you to sit on his lap, and you gladly obey. With legs on either side of his thigh, you straddle him.
“You’re mine, baby.” Jungkook snarls, “This is your place now.”
“I…” you speak for the first time, “I can’t see my friends and family anymore?”
He shakes his head no with a sly grin.
You exhale, a big smile painting your face. You’ve never felt so content and happy in your entire life.
“Then I love it here.”  
Jungkook makes sure that your angels can’t and won’t look for you anymore. He swears that he’ll protect you in every way possible, promising to shield you from anything that will hurt you. Jungkook looks at your beautiful red eyes, feeling your arms wrap around his neck as you pull him close. 
The last thing anyone should do is trust a devil — and that goes for your foolish angels. 
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nev3rfound · 3 years
Text
someone i once knew : b.b - p.4
with Fury denying Bucky the chance to stay to monitor you, he and the rest of the avengers are forced to go on a mission leaving you alone. if only they new the dire consequences that decision would enforce. (2.3k)
(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)
masterlist / permanent taglist 
 - i also have an etsy shop and will be releasing wandavision themed items real soon! - 
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX
(also thank you again and again for the love and excitement for this series - i am loving the writing process and there are now two chapters left!) 
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“Look, you’re all going, no excuses.” Fury states as he stands before the Avengers all sat around the conference table with furrowed brows.
Bucky sighs to himself, thinking about you sat down in that lab alone, still unsure of what is even happening like everyone else.
“But Sir,” Steve speaks up, all eyes turn to him as Fury raises a brow as to whom is questioning him. “Y/n isn’t just someone, she needs protecting.” He reasons, but Fury exhales deeply.
“Mr Rogers, let me make this clear,” Fury steps forward. “I don’t give a damn.”
“You should.” Bucky mutters under his breath as his arms remain crossed over his chest, barely able to stop his leg from bouncing up and down.
“What was that, Sargent?” Fury quips.
Lifting his head, Bucky coldly stares at Fury, ignoring Steve’s silent pleas for him to back down. “You should care who she is, as she matters to me.” Bucky bluntly states.
“As I said, Sargent, I don’t give a damn.” Fury reiterates his point. “Stark hired her, she went through every background check there is. She’s perfectly fine here, do I make myself clear?”
No one dares to speak up as Fury turns his attention to Maria Hill standing beside him.
“Get the jet ready, they can finish briefing on the way.” Fury tells Hill.
Maria nods as she places her earpiece back on. “Yes, Sir.” She walks out of the room and Fury follows.
“We can talk more about this situation when you return.” Fury comments before exiting the room, leaving the team sat in tense silence as the thought of you lingers on all their minds.
“So that’s it?” Sam asks as Tony rises to his feet, not daring to look up at Bucky or Steve.
“You heard Fury, we’ve got a job to do.” Tony explains, knowing there’s no use trying to argue any further. “Come on, the sooner we go the sooner we can get back.”
*
Sitting in the lab, you wish someone was around to keep you company. The last time you had any form of communication was with Bruce before he left last night for a mission with the rest of the team.
All you can hear were his lasting words of advice; "Don't leave this room."
You were bored out of your mind, stuck in the confined space surrounded by cameras and monitors as you remain hooked up to various machines; yet no one will explain what they all do or what is exactly happening to you.
“Hey, FRIDAY?” You call out, desperate for something to do as you lean against the glass wall, flexing your feet.
“Yes, Ms Y/l/n, how can I help?” FRIDAY asks and you exhale deeply, what can an AI do to provide any assistance whilst her creator is keeping you trapped in a lab?
“Any chance Tony mentioned my dinner plans?” You chuckle, having all the facilities beside a kitchen at your disposal.
“I’ll arrange for dinner to be provided by an Agent, Ms Y/l/n.” FRIDAY responds, and you nod to yourself, sliding down against the glass as you lie flat on your back.
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” You mutter. “God, I’ve truly lost it, talking to an AI for company.” You groan, covering your eyes.
It has been a few days since you had a ‘memory’ or a snippet of one. It’s as if your brain has gone dormant the moment someone finally was willing to listen and provide help.
Yet, your mind always ends up wandering back to the ever-present thought of Bucky Barnes. You’ll never forget the way he screamed your name before he was forced to the ground, thrown out of sight from your point of view. There was something about him, the way he looked at you with so much pain lingering in his eyes, even when you first met him.
“Come on, seriously where are we going?” You giggle, following behind James as his hand remains in yours, guiding you out from the bar filled with soldiers.
Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky smirks at his best girl, still amazed that you’ve stuck with him through all this. “Somewhere special.” He tells you, quickly turning to kiss you sweetly before carrying on.
After walking for around ten minutes, Bucky guides you toward the old hall you used to go to during dances.
“This is somewhere special, huh?” You joke, resting your hands on your hips as Bucky fiddles with the lock, tearing it off with ease much to your surprise.
Releasing the chains, Bucky pulls the door open and motions for you to walk inside. Without hesitation, you quickly slip in as Bucky follows behind.
Your footsteps echo in the empty space, having barely been used for months since the war worsened. There are still banners from the last dance you attended with Bucky, dust lining the stage and the various blown out bulbs.
Bucky hovers near the entrance of the dim hall as the moonlight shines through the broken roof, illuminating your figure as you look around. He tries to ignore the screams that ring through his mind, the horror he witnessed mere weeks ago.
“James?” Your voice brings him back to reality as your hand cups his cheek. “It’s okay, you’re right here, with me.” You softly remind him, having experienced countless nights of cries and screams of terror leaving his lips as he flails around, wishing for it to all end.
Leaning his head against your hand, tears form in Bucky’s eyes as you move closer, wrapping your arms around him and hold him close.
“It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling. “It’s over, James, you’re safe.” You remind him, but his sobs subside as he lifts his head, resting his hands around your waist.
“Doll, there’s something I’ve gotta tell you,” Bucky admits, knowing it’s going to be more painful to tell you he’s leaving again.  “I, Steve’s got a plan, one final mission.”  Looking up, Bucky can see you trying to remain composed as you bite your lower lip. “And then we’re done, it’s over and I’m all yours, forever.”
“That’s it?” You breathe out. "One final mission?"
Nodding in response, Bucky guides you toward the moonlit spot in the middle of the hall. “That’s it, and then I’ll be here, by your side until you get sick of me.” He jokes, and your gentle laugh fills his ears.
“Won’t take long, but I’ll put up with it if it means you’re here, with me.” You tell him before tearing your eyes from his as you look up at the birds perching on the rails above you, cooing back and forth.
Bucky admires your smile, the sincere look across your face and he knows it’s now or never.
“Y/n?” Bucky asks, and you hum in response as you lower your face, your eyes practically sparkling brighter than the stars. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”
You smile at the memory. “Of course, we danced until everyone else had left.” You remember it vividly, dancing in the silence of the hall together before Bucky walked you home and slept by your side until the sun rose. His lips lingered over your skin as the sunlight beamed through your curtains, burning his eyes with the reminder he can’t stay.
“There was something I never got to say that night, and throughout everything I, I went through,” Bucky trails off.
“Hey, I’m right here,” You softly mutter, gravitating him back to the present.
“I, I always thought of you, my darling Y/n who has been there through thick and thin. I’m in awe of you, I think I always have, ever since we first met. Your defiance for both Steve and I is unmatched, and you’ve weaved a piece of yourself into me and I don’t want it to ever disappear.” Bucky explains, glancing up to see tears forming in your eyes.
“What’re you saying, James?” Your voice cracks as tears begin to fall down your cheeks whilst Bucky lowers himself down onto one knee before you.
“I’m asking if you, Y/n Y/l/n will do me the honour of being my wife, my doll and best friend forever.” Bucky can feel himself going as you bend down, level with him as a watery laugh leaves your lips.
“Yes,” You respond, looking at the beautiful ring that you recognise from his Grandmother. “you and me, James, forever.”
Gasping for breath, you sit upright clutching your chest.
“FRIDAY?” You yell, but there is no immediate response.
Uneasily you stand up as your body shakes, the memory replaying on your mind as the soldiers face is becoming clearer, his name ghosting your lips, but still refuses to leave them.
Looking across to the monitors, you notice they’re all down. Nothing is operating.
With uncertainty, you remove the various wires and pads covering your skin before stepping toward the glass door and pull it open with ease. “Strange.” You mutter under your breath as you walk out, half expecting a series of alarms to blare, but silence follows as you reach the elevator.
As you press the button for the elevator, you watch as it rises from the ground floor. Yet, the closer it gets the sound of voices near.
“FRIDAY, who else is in the compound?” You call out, now backing away from the elevator as it’s two floors away from you.
Silence ensues yet again, and now your heart rate increases as the elevator pings.
Backing away as the metal doors slide open, you rush back into the lab and hide beneath one of the many desks as a series of men yell orders to one another.
“FRIDAY, please,” You whisper to the AI who remains unresponsive as you close your eyes, wishing to remain unnoticed. “emergency protocol seven.” You add as the glass door shatters open, followed by several footsteps crunching across the broken glass.
Lowering your hands from your face, you can see three pairs of feet from where you’re hiding, weapons hanging in their grip.
“Get anything you can whilst the systems are down.” One man instructs, and you can feel your heart sinking further into your chest; you’re on your own, truly, defenceless.
“How long do you think we have?” Another speaks up, his Russian accent thick as the previous man sighs in annoyance.
“Twenty minutes at the most, now don’t waste time.” He spits before turning around nearing the entrance but pauses.
His feet crunch into the glass as he slowly walks back to the other men.
“Do you hear that?” He asks, holding his hand up to his ear as the two men look at him cluelessly.
“Hear what?” The Russian dares to question whilst you bury your body further into your hiding spot, covering your nose and mouth with your hands to suppress your unsteady breaths.
“The elevator stopped here before we planned which floor to go to, so, who called it here?” Your eyes widen in fear as footsteps approach the desk you’re hiding beneath. “Neither of you notice these tubes and wires connected to the monitors?” The man scoffs.
Within a split second, the desk is flipped over, revealing you curled up to the three men with twisted smiles across their faces.
“Hello, Miss.” The leader bends down and kneels in front of you, he extends his arm, revealing a tattoo across his forearm which you recognise from the many files you’ve read. “You and I are going to have a little game, and I can assure you, it’s going to be fun.”
*
Boarding the quinjet alongside Sam, Bucky wipes his lip, ignoring the throbbing sensation as fresh blood lines his fingertips.
“I told you, we’d be in and out.” Tony comments as the jet door closes behind him as he remains almost unscathed, unlike Steve and Bucky who are slightly worse for wear.
“You didn’t have to go off course like that, Tony.” Steve sighs, sporting a black eye as he takes his seat beside Natasha who wraps her wrist up with Bruce’s help.
Shrugging his shoulders, Tony picks up his phone. “Yeah, well, it’s done now and we can carry on with our little mystery back at the compound.” He mutters, briefly looking to Bucky whose thoughts have remained consumed by you ever since he left. “Hey, can we leave right now? We have to get back to the compound!” Tony rushes toward the pilot with a level of urgency in his tone.
“Tony, what’s going on?” Detecting the change immediately, Steve rises to his feet as he walks toward Tony.
Glancing over his shoulder, Tony can see Bucky still staring at him. “Protocol Seven was activated.” Tony explains in a hushed tone, but he should know better considering there were two super soldiers on board.
“What’s protocol seven?” Bucky speaks up, noticing Natasha tense beside Bruce. “What is it?” He repeats, trying to suppress his panic as Steve clenches his jaw.
“How long do you think we have?” Steve asks.
Rubbing his face, Tony sighs. “Maybe forty minutes, FRIDAY will lock the building, but with the systems hijacked it’ll take longer than normal.”
“Stark,” Bucky tries to remain composed as the plates in his metal arm whir, his fist clenching tightly. “what is protocol seven?”
Turning away from Steve, Tony faces Bucky with a heavy heart. “A security breach within the compound, the systems have been hijacked and FRIDAY is on back up mode.” Tony explains, but Bucky can tell he’s holding something back.
“What kind of security breach?” Bucky dares to ask, stepping closer whilst Natasha lowers her head whilst Clint remains sorrowful opposite the Black Widow.
"I'm so sorry, Barnes." Tony softly responds, looking down as FRIDAY's systems begin to reboot, the security camera's slowly reactivating.
“HYDRA, Buck.” Steve states. “HYDRA are in the compound.”  
P A R T  F I V E 
(thank you to the following for all the love so far! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know)
@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart @soccer-100000   @sunflowerbunny2   @kickingn-ames @choerriesmotion @why-thats-just-delightful @officialfictionalwreck​ @romanoff-nataliaalianovna​ @hersilencedscreams​ @b-r-stark​ @dezzxmx​​
432 notes · View notes
avnkin · 4 years
Text
Not What It Seems ( d.m )
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Summary: Draco starts spreading rumours about you and you demand to know why.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k ish
Warnings: angst and draco being mean
Author’s Note: here’s my first draco fic!!! i’m currently working on 4 others, one series, two requests and a one shot that i’m 8k words deep into,, please continue sending in requests i love hearing your ideas and writing them out!<3 PSA I wrote this in like an hour so it’s not my best work lmao I just wanted to post something since i’ve been so inactive (not my gif)
You and Draco had always had a sort of rivalry going on between the two of you. Everyday in class he’d throw a snide comment directed your way which you’d send right back with a remark of your own.
Everyone had gotten used it by now the teachers hardly bothering to intervene whenever you two were having one of your ‘arguments’ in class.
It had been a monday when the rumours had started. You’d been walking to your charms class when you noticed the abnormally large crowd of Slytherin girls stop and stare when you walked past, whispering in each other’s ears while they not so subtly pointed at you.
You’d thought nothing of it since most of those girls hated you and made damn sure you knew it so that wasn’t anything new, but the stares and giggles had continued on for the rest of the day and not just from the Slytherin’s but the other houses as well, what the hell was going on?
When you’d finally made it to your last class of the day you’d grown fairly sick of it. Hermione had taken a seat next you which was when you knew something was definitely up since she always sat next to Ron and you to Harry.
She’d given you a worried glance which you’d returned with one of confusion.
“Why is everyone acting so weird?” you finally asked noticing the lingering stares from your fellow classmates who quickly looked away whenever you made eye contact.
“I was actually coming to see if you knew” Hermione had hesitantly replied, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.
“Knew? knew what” you inquired feeling the tiniest hint of nerves as you watched Hermione bite down on her, lip carefully contemplating her next words.
“There’s been this rumour... about you” Hermione cautioned, it was obvious she didn’t feel comfortable telling you this but you didn’t care continuing to press on her. 
“What rumour?”
“Well it’s just people have been saying that you’ve been- uh sleeping around” she spoke the last part of her sentence quietly as she looked down onto her lap “please don’t think I’m judging you, I would never do that what you do in your own time is entirely your business and no one else’s, it’s just to bad nobody at this school seems to be familiar with the word privacy- but anyways, I just wanted you to hear it from me rather then anybody else”
Your eyes widened at her words and you suddenly became very aware of the students that we’re still staring now knowing what they were thinking made it ten times worse.
“What? why would anyone think that” your voice wavered even though you felt like you knew exactly who had started the rumour, Malfoy.
He’d seen you with a fellow Slytherin boy the other night, you knew that because you’d made very awkward eye contact with the platinum blond once you’d entered they boys dormitories.
It hadn’t been anything like everyone seemed to think, but you couldn’t go telling people that you were sneaking around with a boy who was helping you cheat on your tests.
You hadn’t been doing well in school so you saw no harm in paying someone off to do your homework or work on spells that would enable him to talk to you during tests and tell you the answers. Your family was wealthy which was why you knew they wouldn’t question the missing money.
You figured that Draco had been watching you whenever you’d sneak into the Slytherin common room but decided to keep it to himself until today apparently.
When he walked into the classroom accompanied by his usual entourage, you gave him the deadliest stare you could muster which he only replied too with a wink.
It infuriated you that he’d been spreading such lies about you, who did he think he was? Even if you had been sleeping with the boy it wasn’t his or anyone else’s damn business.
Since the teacher had yet to arrive you angrily stood up stomping towards Draco, wanting to get more than a few things off of your chest.
When you finally stood in front of his desk you slammed both your hands down on the wooden surface causing him to turn towards you leaning back in his chair his signature smirk resting on his lips.
“Anything I can help you with Y/L/N” his voice was smooth, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, asshole.
“You can stop telling lies about me for starters” you chided, rolling your eyes once you heard the ‘oh’s’ from around you, clearly you’d caught the attention of the rest of the class.
“They’re not lies and you know it” he challenged now sitting up fully in his chair.
“Yes they are and why do you even care Malfoy? Are you jealous” that sentence seemed to throw him off as he uncomfortably shifted in his chair his body language changing in mere seconds.
That’s when you realized you’d hit a soft spot, smirking before continuing “oh I get it, that’s it, you’re in love with me aren’t you” you teasingly pouted leaning forward on his desk to rest your chin in your palm smiling innocently up at him.
A bright pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he took in a deep breath giving you a warning glare which you ignored even though you knew you were skating on thin ice.
“Poor Malfoy can’t even get the girl he likes”
That’s when he seemed to snap, quickly getting up pushing the chair from behind him causing it to almost fall to the floor but Zabini’s arm had caught it just in time.
He placed his fingers on the desk in front of him, all embarrassment seeming to fade off of him as he looked you up and down, his signature smirk now back on his lips.
“Believe me Y/L/N, I don’t want you and neither does anyone else so any guy who says he’s interested in you beyond just fucking you is full of shit”
You’d been expecting him to say a lot of things but not that. You stood frozen for a couple of seconds, this was probably the first time you couldn’t come up with anything to say.
His words had cut deep and the chortles from the students around you weren’t helping at all. You felt tears beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes but you didn’t dare let them fall, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt so you just shook your head before heading straight for the exit of the classroom.
“That was a low blow Malfoy, even for you” Hermione glared at him before hurriedly standing up and following you out into the hallway.
Draco didn’t melt into the cheers and laughter of his friends like he usually did, instead he sunk into his seat ignoring everyone around him.
He knew what he’d said wasn’t true but he’d been so blinded by jealousy when he saw you enter another boys dormitory that he’d gone to Blaise and told him that he wouldn’t be surprised if you would have gone through the entire Slytherin house by the end of the term.
He truly didn’t know why he did it and a sudden guilt creeped onto him as flashes off your hurt face lingered in his mind.
Tears were now fully falling down your cheeks, you felt embarrassed and humiliated, he’d given all the students yet another thing to gossip about without a care in the world.
“Y/N!” Hermione’s voice sounded from behind you causing to you quickly stop and turn around gladly accepting the comforting hug she engulfed you in as soon as she reached you.
“He’s full of shit Y/N don’t you dare let someone like him be the cause of your tears. You are so much more than his stupid comments believe me” you nodded letting her wipe away your tears.
You stayed out in the hallway for a couple more minutes but when you saw professor Snape walking past you, you didn’t feel like getting yelled at for being late as well so you and Hermione quickly followed after him.
As soon as you walked into the classroom all eyes were on you but you ignored them keeping your head held high as you walked back to your seat not daring to look over at Draco.
After class had finished you felt much better having spent your time with ‘the golden trio’ letting them cheer you up, your embarrassment long forgotten as the four of you made your way into the Great Hall for dinner.
You’d been walking behind them having been to caught up in your own thoughts when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist pulling you into an empty corner of the hallway along with them.
You let out a yelp as you were pressed against a wall a hand coming up to cover your mouth. You quickly looked up at your assailant only to be met with a pair of grey eyes you weren’t expecting to see, Draco.
“Calm down it’s just me”
You immediately pushed him off of you “Is that supposed to make feel better? God you’re such an arse” you scoffed attempting to walk away from him but he grabbed your arm again pulling you back in front of him.
“Y/N please hear me out” he pleaded, the mention of your first name startling you a bit, not once in all your years at Hogwarts had he called you Y/N.
“Y/N huh, that’s new” you folded your arms over your chest glaring up at him.
He ignored your words as he fiddled with his fingers clearly trying to think of an apology good enough for what he had said earlier.
“Shit, Y/N- I mean Y/L/N, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said that it was stupid, I-I hope you know I don’t actually think that, It’s just when I saw you with him I got so mad, I don’t know why I-I didn’t mean it-“
“You didn’t mean it? Well that sure as hell didn’t stop you from saying it in front of the entire bloody class” you cut him off now resting your hand on your hip.
“I know, I- I don’t know what to say except that I’m really sorry” he shook his head before he turned to walk away from you, but just as he was about to round the corner you called out after him.
“I’m sorry for what I said as well”
He stopped dead in his tracks before slowly making his way back to stand in front of you, you were now very much aware of how close the two of you were and you almost invontarily backed into the stone wall causing him to take another step towards you.
“Well you weren’t exactly wrong”
“Oh so you were jealous” you teased looking up at the platnium blond who already had his eyes glued on you a small smile resting on his lips
Instead of answering he surged forward pressing you even harder into the wall, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips connected with yours.
Your eyes widened at his actions as you stood frozen against him which he seemed to notice after a couple of seconds quickly pushing himself off of you.
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” you cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet your lips again.
He hungrily kissed you back his arms wrapping around your torso before travelling down to your hips pulling you even more into him.
“What on earth is going on here” professor McGonagall’s voice suddenly sounded from beside you causing the two of you to quickly jump away from each other.
“Oh- uhm sorry professor we were just- uhm” you tried to come up with an excuse turning your head towards Draco hoping he would help but he just stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Detention, both of you for the next two weeks”
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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years
Text
Speak Easy Part 5
Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader
Words : 4804
Masterlist
Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?
Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.
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It had been a few days since Bakugo had visited. Dabi was so torn between wanting to punish you for being a brat and praising you for finally walking. On one hand it was a law that you worked out every day. It was in writing and you had tried to tell him you weren’t going to do it.
Part of him knew he was only so worked up over it because it had happened in front of Bakugo. If it had happened any other day, he would have given you a quick spank and just thrown your ass in the pool anyways.
The look on your face had made it worth it though. To see that tenacious side of you, the one that looked like it was ready for a fight… Yeah, he could get used to seeing that look.
Then there was the aftercare of your little outburst. You had let him hold you all night. He didn’t know if that was intentional or if you had only reached for him in sleep out of instinct. He remembered how you had reached for Bakugo and it gave him a headache. For now, he chose to not make a big deal about it.
It had been a long day and you were ready to pass out. Dabi had taken the training wheels off and was starting to make you walk more and more on your own without his help. He was always quick to laugh when you fell on your ass with a taunt of, “You look like Shoto when he was a toddler. Don’t worry I didn’t help him either.” The only time he did help you, was to help you into the high barstool at the kitchen island. Making more jokes about you needing help getting into your highchair and asking if you needed him to feed you too.
You didn’t know if it was the fatigue or the teasing, but something had you in a foul mood. You flipped him off, ~I hate you~.
Dabi’s eyes softened in an almost annoyingly affectionate way, “No you don’t.” He handed you the bowl of ice cream you had begged for. “Good work today. I gave you an extra scoop.” He winked, took out his own spoon, and quickly stole a bite.
Your mouth hung open at his audacity. ~No! Wrong! Hate!~
He laughed loudly, “I said I gave you an extra scoop! You’re not gonna miss one bite!” He reached his spoon back out, “Just for that I’m gonna take another.”
You smacked his hand away and furrowed your eyebrows at him, ~Mine.~
He feigned shock, “I’m sorry… did you just… hit me?”
You stuck your tongue out at him and shoveled a huge bite of ice cream into your mouth. It was way too much and if you weren’t so intent on being a brat you would have laughed. Dabi however was in no laughing mood as he saw the melted ice cream dripping down your chin.
He reached out squished your cheeks together with one hand. He hovered over you, enjoying the height difference and absolutely losing it over the look of pure innocence in your eyes as the ice cream continued to slip past your lips. He leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice, “You’re making a mess… Now. Swallow.”
Your eyes connected with his and you obediently swallowed what was left of the ice cream. He swiped a thumb across your bottom lip to collect what was left before sucking into his mouth all the while keeping his eyes focused on yours.
You swear he was leaning in even closer when the loud clanging of your spoon hitting the table broke you apart.
He cleared his throat and pushed himself away from you. You had to focus really hard on not pouting. Why were you disappointed? Had you wanted him to kiss you? Or were you just horny again? This was a question you had been faced with a lot in your adult life, because as much as you hate to admit it… your quirk does make you a total horn dog. It’s been what? YEARS since you had good and proper sex.
You shuddered as you remembered back to the lab. You had sex there a few times… but… you couldn’t really say if it was any good on the account that you don’t remember most of it. What you did remember, you wish you didn’t. They hadn’t called it sex… they called it ‘research’, and boy where they a fan of their research.
Dabi lifted your chin to force you to look at him, “Hey where did you go just now?” He saw the tears pooling in your eyes and he felt a spike of panic at the thought the he was the cause of them. “Hey… hey I’m sorry. I take things too far sometimes.” He went to lower his hand but your gripped it and brought it back to your face. Needing his presence to anchor you to the present before you spiraled into memories of the past.
“Take a deep breath for me, okay. I need you to take a deep breath then I need you to hold it until I say so. Can you do that?” You hadn’t even realized your breathing had started to tighten until he said something. You nodded slowly as you tried to remember back to your hero training. You took a deep breath in through your nose. “Good girl. Now hold it and count to ten.” You did as he said before letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. “You’re doing great, just keep doing that. Is it okay if I pick you up?”
Your eyes widened. Did you want to be held? Or did you want to lock yourself in your room. You didn’t even know. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, what you needed. Would you find comfort in his embrace, or would you feel confined? So, you just stared back at him and shrugged.
“Law number one. I need a yes or no. You can do that. I know you can.” You gulped and nodded your head. He picked you up, but instead of picking you up bridal style like he usually did, he picked you up like he would a child. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.
He walked you back to your room abandoning the rest of the ice cream to melt on the counter. You buried you face into his neck and you felt his fingers comb through your hair. He sat down on the bed and pulled you close to him. “I’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks. They suck… ass. I get that. The only thing you can do is breath and try and clear you mind.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, and you could feel your heartbeat start to slow down to match his. “So, uh… I guess I’ll try to distract you. I could tell you a story about me. Would you like that?”
You could already feel yourself starting to calm down, but you didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to learn more about him, so you simply nodded and burrowed further into him.
You could feel him shift uncomfortably underneath you. “When I first got away from my family. I was just a dumb kid. I was angry and hell bent on proving to anyone who even looked my way that I was strong. Once I was running an errand for the league at a local market and I saw Shoto. It was after his accident, but his hair was a dead giveaway. He was there with Fuyumi, I think she was just trying to keep him busy.”
He leaned back and pulled you with him making the two of you more comfortable. “I saw his scar and was so sure that our dad did it. I was ready to hunt him down and kick his ass.” He sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “But then the squirt did the weirdest thing. It was like he was drawn to me. I looked nothing like the brother he knew. Black hair, scars, and staples, But he broke free of Fuyumi and ran straight towards me. Out of instinct I leaned down to pick him up, but he stopped right as he got to me. He put a hand up to my face and then to his own scar. He looked me square in the eyes and said ‘Ouch’ and then just ran away.”
You smiled, that definitely sounded like Todoroki. The more you thought about it, there were definitely some small similarities between the two brothers. Not that you’d mention that to either of them.
Dabi continued to talk and tell you stories until you eventually drifted off into dreams of young Dabi and what he would have been like. Your mind conjured up images of him in a UA uniform. Him competing in a sports festival. Him in a library studying for exams.
Unfortunately, your dreams didn’t last long. You woke a few hours later with a stabbing pain in your abdomen. You whimpered as you tried to roll over in an attempt to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Instead you rolled straight into the lean body of Dabi. Oh no. Dabi. You needed to get cleaned up before he woke up.
You tried to roll away from him, but his arm snaked around you and pulled you closer, “Y/n? What’s wrong? Have a bad dream?” He remembered that he wasn’t going to get a verbal answer, so he opened his eyes to see you looking absolutely miserable. “Y/n? Are you okay?”
You nodded but then winced when a really bad cramp rocked through you. You had always had really painful periods, but you hadn’t had to feel it in it’s full affects in years.
“Bullshit, you don’t look okay. Are you sick?”
Not even bothering to answer, you pushed away from him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. He leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on and that’s when it clicked for him. “Holy shit! How are you even alive, that’s a fuck ton of blood. I’ve been stabbed before and I didn’t bleed that much.”
You knew he was just being dramatic, but it still made you cringe that he was witnessing this. You could hear him stripping the sheets as you turned the shower on. Now all your recent mood swings made sense. Just last night you had been pissed, horny, and crying all in the span of several minutes. Stupid hormones.
When you stepped out of the shower there was a box of tampons and a box of pads sitting on the counter next to the sink. Just seeing them made you pout. You fucking hated your period.
You stepped out once you were dressed and heard the buzz of the dryer. Surely there was no way Dabi had cleaned the sheet that fast. You walked out of the bedroom to see him rushing towards you with a massive blanket. He stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway. “Uh… okay. So, game plan. I warmed up a blanket. I have Fruits Basket queued up and chocolate chip pancakes are on stand bye.”
Your eyes widened ~How?~
“How what? How did I know?” You nodded and he you swear to god he blushed. “I uh… I may have texted my brother. Who texted Bakugo, who called me, and now here we are.”
That made more sense. Katsuki had always been the only one who could handle your mood swings when you were menstruating. Everyone else claimed you were too scary. When you were younger your quirk would become unpredictable and it would randomly activate at the most inconvenient times. Your quirk used to be heavily influenced by your emotions, and when your monthly cycle came around it was almost impossible to control your emotions.
It took him a few tries but eventually Katsuki got the routine down. Warm blanket, something sweet, and some sappy anime, which we’d never admit it, but he actually loved.
You accepted the blanket from him and hobbled towards the couch. You pulled your knees to your chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Dabi disappeared but quickly returned with the pancakes. “I’m an idiot for not thinking about this. It obviously was going to happen at some point. You’ve been here for about three weeks.”
~Thank you~ You took the pancakes from him and he gave you a weird look.
“Okay I’m not good at the whole taking care of others thing. So… do I leave you alone? Do you expect me to watch this shit with you?”
You glared at him as you ate your pancakes and because you were already in a bad mood… you shrugged. Did you do it on purpose to piss him off. Of course.
He growled before throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “You’re lucky you don’t feel good you fucking brat. I’m really trying to be nice.”
You ignored him and hit play. You knew you were being ridiculous, but you also couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you wanted his attention any way you could get it. You finished your pancakes and were about two episodes into the show, but your cramps hadn’t subsided. You whined as you hugged the blanket around you and started to toss around trying to find a position, any position that would help with your cramps.
You thought Dabi had fallen back asleep, so you were scared shitless when his arms wrapped around you and pulled you down onto his chest. He was laying on his back pinning your chest to his. You could barely see the blue of his eyes in the dark. He looked so tired though. “Just smack me if it’s too much… but do you trust me?”
You bit your lip but nodded anyways. You knew by now that Dabi would stop if you asked him to. So, while you were nervous about what he was going to do, you also trusted him to listen to you.
He reached his hands around and pushed his hands just past the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your breath hitched but his hands stopped there. You wondered what he was doing, but then his hands started to heat up and oh shit did it feel good. It was like he was your own personal heating pad.
You hummed into his neck and shifted a little bit to sink further into him. You hiked one of your legs up and wiggled to push yourself into his hands more, chasing the warm comfort.
You stayed like that for a while. The tops of his fingers ghosting over the curve of your ass as his palms pressed into your lower back. It was honestly impressive how he his hands were just hot enough to feel good without burning you.
Dabi sucked in a breath, “You like that huh?” He pulled you closer to him. His hands started to knead into your lower back as he buried his nose into your hair. You let out a groan at how good it felt. Before you could stop yourself you grinded down on his thigh. “Oh, you really like it…” You could hear the playful note in his voice. “Like I said… stop me if it’s too much.”
You knew what direction this was heading, and you didn’t care because it felt so good. His hands slipped lower and grabbed your ass and started to massage your cheeks before pulling you down hard into his thigh. “I heard somewhere…” His mouth was at your ear now nipping at the shell of it. “That the best thing for period cramps…” He moved his thigh up to meet your center as his hands pulled you down and moved you back and forth. “Is an orgasm.” Your fingers found his shirt and gripped onto it while you started to ride his thigh. “I would be selfish not to help you out.” His lips found your neck and he pressed gentle featherlike kisses there, making you sigh. “Take what you need from me baby.”
He gave your ass a hard squeeze before giving it a slap. “Fuck, your ass is perfect.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back and his lips met yours and you moaned at how delicious it was. This. This is what you needed. You needed someone to make you forget. To make you feel like you weren’t some fragile and broken toy. He was letting you take the lead while he maintained all of the control.
Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Your quirk activated and in your touch you could feel his overwhelming desire. You could also feel hesitation. He must be worried about pushing you too far. You pushed your lust back at him through your touch to reassure him you were more than okay this. He growled and deepened your kiss before yanking himself away. “Fuck Y/n! I-I think you’re quirk triggered. You smell… god you smell so fucking good!”
You grit your teeth. You wanted to tell him sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips. His hands came to your hips and pulled you, so you were now grinding on his already hard dick. Your hands stopped his as you shook your head no. Now you were worried you were the one taking advantage of him. You knew your smell could be overwhelming.
He panted as he bucked up, “No, please don’t stop on my account. It’s fucking hot. I promise you y/n… if you ever let me…” One of his hands found it’s way back to your ass while the other snaked into your shorts and started to rub your clit through your underwear. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucking worshiped.”
You felt your orgasm quickly building and Dabi could tell. He could see the way your chest heaved and he could feel the way you began to frantically snap your hips. He kissed up your neck while he picked up the speed on your clit. “You want to know why?” He bucked his hips hard up into yours. “Because you’re a good girl. You are MY good girl.”
That was all you needed. You shook and your thighs squeezed around him. He kept going to help you ride it out as long as possible. You felt all your tension bleed out. All of the stress of the past couple days, hell the past couple weeks, didn’t even matter anymore. And all you did was ride his thigh.
When you finally had enough you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Panting you nuzzled back up to him and his hands trailed up and down your spine. “That’s my girl. Good job.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled the blanket back up over you. “Now let’s get some sleep.” We can skip the routine tomorrow. We can just do this instead. One day off won’t kill you.”
You hummed as you melted into him. Your eyes drooped closed and the last thing you remembered was Dabi grabbing your thigh and hitching your leg over his waist.
“The gag won’t be enough. We need to make sure she doesn’t even have the option of talking.” That voice sent chills down your spine. It belonged to the man you only knew as Dr. A3. They never used their names around you. Just an extra precaution in case you were to escape. Dr. A3 was the one who seemed to be in charge of all our your “experiments”. He was psychotic and you hate him with every cell in your body.
You were back on that table. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything but the blindfold.
“I can handle that, but my quirk will eventually ware off.” That was Cogernot. He was technically a villain who was being held in the same way you were. His quirk allowed him to manipulate with people’s cognition. He could turn off your senses, mess with your memories, and so much more. It was common that they grouped the two of you together in the lab.
“That’s fine how long do you think it’ll last?”
Cogernot sighed, “It’s different with every person but the more often I do it the longer it’ll last. But you have to be careful. If I mess with her too much it could become permanent.”
Dr. A3 laughed, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If that girl were able to talk, she could easily escape, or even worse she could make us all kill one another.” He ran a hand through your tangled hair and you winced in pain. “Besides girls like her are meant to be seen and not heard. We have another girl here who can walk through people’s dreams and convince them to do all kinds of stuff. We don’t need y/n’s honeyed words anymore. Do it.”
“If you say so… But don’t come crying to me when I accidentally break your favorite toy.”
You felt a hand press to your forehead, and you felt something snap.
Your eyes slowly opened, and you found that you were still laying on top of Dabi in his living room. You were able to keep your panic at bay by slowly breathing and counting in your head. You matched your breathing to Dabi’s, and you felt his arms tighten around you.
You looked at his sleeping face. He looked so different like this, when he wasn’t yelling at you or teasing you. A flush came over your cheeks when you remembered what happened earlier that morning. You traced your finger over the staples under his eyes.
His hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, so you shoved on his shoulder to make him look at you. “I literally just woke up and you’re already begging for attention.” It drove you crazy that he wouldn’t open his eyes to look at you. The asshole knew you couldn’t talk…. Couldn’t talk.
The dream came crashing back to you. You pushed yourself off of him and went in search for your journal.
“Wait y/n… come on. Come back. I’ll open my eyes. Don’t throw a fucking temper tantrum over it Jesus.”
You came back with your journal and sat down on the table that was across from the couch and started to write everything you could remember about your dream. Dabi sat up and tried to smooth his hand up your thigh but you paused your writing long enough to slap it away. ~Not now~
“There’s no way you’re that mad. Come on what are you writing. Is this our first fight? Are fighting right now? That’s cute.”
You scowled as you shoved your journal in his face. The look on his face went from amused to concerned as he started reading.
“Wait that’s where Cogernot has fucking been this whole time? We thought he died.” He looked at you “How many times did he use his quirk on you?”
You shrugged and for once he didn’t yell at you for it.
He ran a hand through his white hair. “So, if this is really just his quirk and not some kind of trauma then it should ware off soon. That idiots quirk usually only lasts for a couple of hours though, sometimes a few days. I’ve never seen it last this long.” He stood up and started to pace. You watched him go back and forth a few times before he threw his hands in the air, “Shit!” He picked up a pillow and it immediately turned to ash.
He looked back to you and saw the alarm in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m overreacting. It’s just – That fucking idiot may have permanently fucked you up.” You cringed at his words. Was that how he saw you? Fucked up?
He started pacing again, “He told me once there was a way to override his quirk though. You just have to convince your brain that it’s dying. Something about that kicks it into gear and nullifies his quirk.” He looked to the pool and then to you. “We could drown you! I know CPR, it’ll be fine.”
~NO NO NO~ The look in Dabi’s eyes was starting to scare you. He looked like he was ready to do it no matter what you said. As much as you wanted to talk again, you didn’t think it was worth risking your life over. But apparently, he did. Apparently learning sign, and reading your journal was just too much work for him. If he was this desperate to fix it… if he was willing to drown you just so you could talk….
You were ripped from your thoughts when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and hit him while tears streamed down your cheeks. There was no way he would go through with this… right?
You heard the sliding glass door open and all the sudden you were only steps away from the pool. You couldn’t see into his eyes, you couldn’t see what was going on in that fucked up head of his. You slid a hand under his shirt right before he got to the pool and did the only thing you could think of. You showed him how scared you were. You made him feel that terror. He paused only for a moment before jumping in the pool.
He let go only for a few seconds just so he could pull your back to his chest and whisper into your hair. “I know you’re going to hate me, but eventually you will think me for this.”
And then he was shoving you under. You clawed at his arms, ripping several of his staples out. You poured all of your terror and your pain into your touch and grabbed his wrists that were holding you under.
This was fucked up, this was so fucked up. You didn’t want to die. Why was he doing this? He didn’t even know if it would work! Your panic wasn’t making it any easier. You were losing oxygen fast and before you knew it you were starting to black out. You were going to die… You were going to drown in the same pool he had held you in so sweetly and helped you rehabilitate in. Your fingers ceased their scratching and your arms fell limp.
He didn’t bring you back up until you had stopped moving completely. He pulled you back up to the surface and immediately laid you down on the hard-concrete outside of the pool. In seconds he was on you preforming CPR. “Come on… You’re strong. You can take a little drowning. Hell, I’ve drowned a few times. Well I’ve been waterboarded… I don’t know if that exactly the same thing.” He nervously babbled to your unconscious body as he continued his chest compressions. “Come on y/n! Fuck!” He pinched your nose and breathed into you. Just a few hours ago his lips had been on yours for an entirely different reason and he desperately wished he could go back to that moment now.
He continued his chest compressions tears pooling in his eyes. “COME ON Y/N!” He did this. This was his fault. His father was right about him. The world was right about him. He’s a monster. He was supposed to be protecting you. You trusted him and he did this to you. He had felt your fear, your pain, and he did it anyway.
The thought of you never getting to talk again had thrown him into a panic. The thought of those fuckers taking apart of who you were away from you made him see red. He acted impulsively and now he’s paying the price.
“WAKE UP! PLEASE!”
You coughed and water came flooding out of your mouth. He cried out in relief and rolled you onto your side and patted your back to help you expel the water from your lungs.
It fucking burned. Your throat was raw from the chlorine and your brain was foggy from the lack of oxygen.
“Y/n… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”
He reached his hand out to touch your face but you caught it. You stared into his eyes with as much hate as a person could have and gripped his hand so hard you could feel your nails cutting into his skin, “Fuck… You…”
*****************
Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
Text
Crybaby (Spencer Reid/ Reader)
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Requested: Yes!
Reader cries a lot. Over movies, puppies, insults, because she’s sensitive, and like when babies cry. So she was always called crybaby for years. So when Spencer sees that she’s crying secretly because she thinks Spencer is gonna break up with her, Spencer (with the help of Penelope and Morgan) made a boyfriend Hoodie that says “I love my crybaby.”
A/N: Hello!! I got this request a few weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to write it right. I hope you like it! Also, in my mind, this is season one Spencer, the dorkiest and the cutest. But, of course, you can picture your fav Reid 💜
Category: Hardcore fluff
Summary: Reader is embarrassed ’cos she thinks she cries too much, and Spencer just wants to show her he loves her no matter what. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader
Word count: 1,8K
Warning: Prepare yourself ‘cos there is some hardcore fluff going on in here.
Masterlist
*
Spencer Reid walked into his apartment and took off his jacket, shoes and loosened his tie. He left his satchel on a chair and sighed. He was weary after a long day.
- “(Y/N)! I’m home!”- he looked for her as he walked around the place. No one in the kitchen
- “Boo? where are you?”- no one in the bedroom either.
That was weird. Reid had called his girlfriend earlier, and she had said she’d wait for him in his apartment. She was already there making dinner for them.
The pots were on the stove, the house smelled delicious (mushroom curry, Spencer guessed), but there was no sign of his girlfriend anywhere.
Until he heard a soft sob coming from the bathroom.
- “Boo? what are you doing here?”- he whispered as he walked in and found (Y/N) sitting inside the tub, wrapping her arms around her legs, hiding her face.
- “Nothing… I’m ok.”- she murmured so softly, Spencer almost couldn’t hear her.
- “Babe, you are crying. What happened?”- (Y/N) sobbed and shook her head.
- “Really, it’s nothing… I’m ok”- Spencer kneeled outside the tub and caressed her hair softly.
- “Come on, you are obviously upset. Please, trust me.”
His voice was sweet and caring, just like his hands felt playing with her hair.
(Y/N) hesitated for a moment. She was honestly embarrassed to tell him what was going on. She felt she was stupid for crying over something so silly. But still, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
- “Promise me you won’t get mad,”- she murmured, her voice muffled against her legs.
- “I would never get mad at you! You know it. What happened?”- (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at Spencer. He was so worried. His heart broke just to think something was bothering her that she felt she couldn’t share with him.
- “I was talking to Nikki over the phone earlier. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I wanted to catch up”- Spencer nodded as (Y/N) spoke very quickly- “And she asked about you. I told her you’d had a lot of work lately, so I wanted to wait for you with a nice dinner. And she laughed and told me I was the worst cook on earth and that you would definitely laugh at my cooking.”
Spencer wide opened his eyes as he saw her girlfriend’s tears still falling down her cheeks.
- “And I wanted to tell her I’ve gotten a lot better at cooking ‘cos I’ve got all these recipe books now, but I started crying instead. So she just laughed again and said that you would probably dump me for my bad cooking or because I’m a crybaby.”
- “What?!”- Spencer nearly yelled- “What is she talking about? you are not a crybaby!”
- “Yes, I am”- (Y/N) sobbed and covered her face with both hands- “Look at me! my friend told me I couldn’t cook, and I’ve been sitting in your tub for an hour!”
Yes. (Y/N) cried a lot. Spencer knew it, though she had tried to keep it from him ever since they started dating.
But you don’t date a profiler and successfully keep those kinds of things from him. Spencer knew his girlfriend cried a lot.
She had cried on their first date, at the end of the movie they saw. That was when Spencer realized how much he liked her.
(Y/N) cried every time she saw a cute kitten video on Instagram. The ones about abandoned cats that were adopted by loving families that changed their lives were the worst. She would sob.
She cried with every single book she read. Spencer loved that.
(Y/N) had cried the first time he told her he loved her.
She could cry over any Dr. Who episode they saw. Actually, they couldn’t watch any episode with Ten and Rose because (Y/N) would start crying within minutes.
And she was embarrassed, ‘cos people had always made fun of her and called her “crybaby.” Even her friends. So when Nikki teased her about Spencer breaking up with her because she cried a lot, it just made sense.
Who would like to date a crybaby?
Spencer Reid, of course.
Spencer was surrounded daily with death and murders. The darkest side of the world. That meant that having someone as pure and loving as (Y/N), who would literally cry of happiness when she saw him after a case, gave him hope. There were still good people out there. Good people who cried over the little things, ‘cos they cared. ‘Cos they were moved. ‘Cos they weren’t afraid to show their feelings.
Reid sighed and ran his fingers down (Y/N)’s hair sweetly. She was still sobbing, and his chest tightened at the idea of his sweet girlfriend being in pain.
- “Is there room in that tub for me?”- he whispered as he took out his shoes and stepped into the bathtub. Spencer sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her neck several times; his voice was a soft coo in his girlfriend’s ear.
- “I love you, (Y/N). All of you, including when you cry.”
- “But I cry over everything.”
- “That’s what I love the most about you”- he whispered and kissed her cheeks, intertwining his fingers with hers as he held her hands.
- “You are not a crybaby, and if anything, you are my baby. I love you so much, Boo”- (Y/N) shook her head and felt Spencer kissing her neck again.
- “I love you, (Y/N)”- he repeated and sighed- “You don’t know how much you mean to me.”
*
Spencer was sitting at his desk, staring at the empty space in front of him. He couldn’t take his mind from his girlfriend. Reid had never seen her that upset before. He felt he needed to make sure she knew how much he loved her and that crying didn’t bother him. On the contrary, he loved it.
- “Hey, Pretty boy. What’s in your mind?”- Morgan waved from his desk, and just Spencer shook his head.
- “Nothing”- Derek narrowed his brows and stood up.
- “You haven’t gotten any work done in over half an hour.”
- “What? are you timing my work now?”- Spencer answered, confused and in a high-pitched voice. He was getting annoyed easily ‘cos he was honestly upset.
- “No, I’m just saying there is clearly something bothering you. Everything ok?”
- “Yeah… I mean”- Reid sighed and looked at Morgan- “I just… think I need to talk to Garcia about it.”
- “Is it about (Y/N)? did you fight with your pretty girl?”
- “No, that’s not it.”
- “Then?”- Reid looked around. No one else was paying attention to their conversations.
- “She… we… it’s complicated”- Spencer sighed. If there was someone who could help him, that was Penelope García.
- “My poor baby!!”- Penelope wide opened her eyes as soon as Spencer finished telling her the story.
- “I’m ok, García”- he whispered and felt how his friend smacked her hand against his arm- “Auch!!”
- “I’m talking about (Y/N), genius!! I can’t believe people make fun of her for crying too much!!”
- “Well, if she really does cry over everything, I….”- Morgan stopped talking the second he noticed both Penelope and Spencer looked at him in shock.
- “No! I would never tease her about it”- he started explaining right away- “What I’m trying to say is that I can understand why some people might find that... Anyway. How can we help you?”
- “I need to find a way to make her feel I loved all the time,”- Spencer whispered, embarrassed- “I just need to show her I don’t care if she cries. I love her. I love everything about her. And being someone sensitive shouldn’t be something to be embarrassed about.”
- “Awww, my baby genius!”- Garcia wrapped an arm around Spencer and played with his hair for a second- “You are so sweet with your girlfriend.”
- “Well, I love her….”- he murmured, still ashamed to share his feelings so openly with his friends.
- “Then I’ve got an idea! And you are going to be on board with this, ‘cos it’s the best idea I’ve ever had!”- Penelope sentenced and clapped his hands, already excited.
*
- “Spencer!!”- (Y/N) walked into his apartment and waited for his reply- “I’m here!”
- “In the bedroom!!”- Spencer yelled and smiled in anticipation of what he wanted to show his girlfriend.
- “Hey!”- (Y/N) found him sitting on his bed, covered by a gigantic blanket- “What are you doing here? Are you cold? Do you feel sick? do you need anything?”
- “No, Boo, no”- Spencer quickly shook his head and smiled- “I’m fine. Just come here”- he tapped on the bed with a warm smile. (Y/N) sat next to him and frowned, confused.
- “I got you a present,”- Reid announced and pointed at a box by his side.
- “Why? I mean, thank you”- (Y/N) quickly replied, still confused. Spencer smiled, staring at her. The girl opened the present and widened her eyes in excitement as soon as she saw a pink polaroid camera.
- “This is amazing!!”- (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Spencer tight and leaned in to kiss his lips sweetly- “Thank you so much.”
- “I’m happy you like it, Boo.”
- “Why am I getting a new camera, by the way?”
- “Well…”- Spencer moved carefully closer to her and kissed her cheeks softly before saying.
- “I am away so often I thought we should take more pictures to carry with me. And that you can have with you all the time too.”
(Y/N) bit her lips, fighting the tears that were filling her eyes all of a sudden. (Y/N) could feel her chin quivering with each word Spencer said. She didn’t want to cry and embarrass herself in front of her boyfriend again.
But what he was saying was so sweet, she couldn’t help it.
- “Why don’t we take a picture now?”- he suggested, but she shook her head- “Why not?”
- “Because...”- (Y/N) took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to cry in front of Reid.
- “Come on! Let’s take a picture with my new hoodie”- Spencer chuckled and removed the blanket that covered him. (Y/N) burst out laughing as soon as she saw it: Reid had a purple hoodie on with a cartoon of the two of them hugging and on top of it the phrase “I love my crybaby.”
- “What on earth?! Why? When did you...?”- (Y/N) chuckled and sobbed at the same time. Spencer opened his arms and wrapped them around her.
- “I love you, baby”- he whispered and kissed her cheek several times- “Now there’s no way you are going to forget it, ‘cos we are going to take a million pictures with this hoodie on, and I’m also never going to take it off again.”
- “I love you so much, Spencer”- (Y/N) pouted and kissed his lips over and over again.
- “I love you more”- he whispered against her lips- “You are my baby. Just mine, ok?”- (Y/N) nodded and giggled, kissing him again.
- “Your crybaby?”- she asked and he agreed, kissing her again.
- “My crybaby.”
*********
Taglist: @all-tings-diego​  @meowiemari​
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