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#and i'm so SO angry that he had to come out not on his terms and before he was ready just to make people SHUT UP
So I thought I'd make a post on this as it's been a minute since the season 3 trailer dropped and what I'll be talking about was something that was making the rounds and I thought I'd say something when the craze had died down; but amongst the various topics of conversation, weirdly Colin's virginity seems to have come up, along with the general nature of his sexual experience. So be warned I'm going to be referring to spoilers at points from what's been posted by others on here and on Reddit, I'll leave a gap between this paragraph and the next so there you go, read at your own discretion. (note: post may be long, whoops)
So even if you've remained away from spoilers and seen only the trailer and other official promo stuff, it's clear that Colin has returned from his travel's more experienced this time in more ways than one, namely it is clear that he has been deflowered (kind of hate this term but I couldn't think of something else), and beyond that he's then also become particularly experienced in the bedroom and in the ways of charming women and such. I've seen some people say that they wished he'd still been a virgin more so because they would've found the dynamic of both him and Penelope being virgins something interesting to see as a shift from dynamics of previous seasons, and whilst I don't necessarily hate that, what's disturbed me is the way other people have had such a visceral reaction to Colin having any involvement with any other woman ever and getting ridiculously angry; which is funny when really they should be seen as interesting points of character development. In episode 1 of season 3 he returns home obviously looking as he does now and there's the whole sequence of the dropped glove that he picks up and kisses the hand of the lady in question it belongs to, Colin has returned feeling he has a solid sense of himself but also thinks himself untethered to the necessity of connection in order to engage in sex or even just flirtation, but this is important as the season progresses. In episode 2 from what I've read, he visits a brothel in which he pays for the services of a woman who works there, everything goes fine, I don't know exactly how much we will see of that encounter but it'll probably be enough; also to note, the source of this information stated very clearly that this interaction and a following one in episode 4 do not bear significance or even compare on what we will get with Polin in terms of an array of content that this season delivers.
Speaking of episode 4, reportedly he goes again but this time he's unable to engage as well as he did before and without a doubt this is due to Penelope. Additionally, this is an interesting look at sex in terms of it just being for gratification, and sex in terms of connection, a means to an end versus an act of love. In previous seasons, the depiction of brothels/sex work establishments doesn't really bear the same importance plot wise (side note I am not nor should you go shaming these people in that line of work as it's one that deserved respect like any other, it is simply functioning as a part of the conversation here), unlike here where I think that it's really important as it show's Colin's inner need for connection in order for it to work, because when he was away he probably had no issues getting his kicks because he convinced himself this felt right and back home would be no different, but that only lasts briefly and why you may ask? because the friend who he'd left and returned to transforms from a woman only in name to a woman in fully realised form, from a wallflower into an Emerald, and this kicks into gear the real maturity he needed to gain, realising from not just her appearance but the other qualities she possesses and the ways in which he is both attached and attracted to her, that she is who he has truly loved this whole time, he just needed to get out of his own head. It should also be pointed out that in the show, Colin has always drifted with finding himself let alone sorting out his feelings, so it is highly likely whilst he was technically violating polite society rules with his interactions with Penelope and this should've fired something off in his brain, that it caused him instead to think this is simply something that someone does with a friend they value highly versus being a by-product of his underlying feelings that he has with no one else. And as such, whereas Penelope was the one pining before, now he will be the one doing so and he's no longer on the pedestal he was previously so they'll be on even ground to start something real.
On a quick note, this is a friends to lovers ship but I want to make it clear, especially with men and women dynamics, that not all friends are going to have this trajectory whether we're talking about characters or irl people; friends to lovers tropes should be understood as two people who's connection starts with friendship and there's always a sense it could be something more whether or not both parties are consciously aware and it's to do with how they explore that, and is NOT in any way the case that these friends can somehow never be just friends with a strong connection, case and point Penelope and Morgan from Criminal Minds, close friends and nothing more and they're great.
Something also to say is that the obsession with Colin's sexual experience is just as bad as they way women are treated for their sexual experience, it creates this weird value and attributes a weird rating system of respect to something that's not our business, as well as fetishizing what people do or don't do with their bodies and making assumptions about their activities, so you know maybe we should agree to not do that. Beyond that, how about we actually watch what happens instead of spiralling out of control about this stuff. Also, if I see anyone who aren't fans of this ship to begin with, just leave, you're wasting energy on something that you literally don't need to be, do what the rest of us do and exit out and invest your time in what you actually enjoy instead of festering hate.
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malyen0retsev · 1 year
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i wish everyone who made kit connor feel he had to come out a very merry FUCK YOU. you forced an eighteen year old into coming out publicly, before he was ready, when he stated many many times he wanted to keep it private. how many more times does this shit have to fucking happen before some of you fucking clock that YOU CANNOT QUEERBAIT IN REAL LIFE. this is the natural end to the discourse of ‘if somebody is in the public eye playing a queer person they owe us their sexuality’, and it’s DEEPLY FUCKED UP, they do NOT owe you an answer, and this mindset JUST FORCED AN EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD TO OUT HIMSELF BEFORE HE WAS READY TO
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sheliesshattered · 2 years
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I’m just so tired
#things with my dad are getting significantly worse. with terminal brain cancer that's pretty much the only direction things can go#but his mental state is deteriorating quickly. multiple massive brain tumors will do that to you but now it's accelerating#I described it to one of my siblings that it's like Dad's mind is a big jigsaw puzzle and for a year now it's been clear that#the once-whole puzzle is breaking into pieces. for awhile the pieces were still pretty big and he could still carry on a conversation well#he might not remember it 15 minutes later but get him talking about an old memory or something he's an expert on and he could just go on#I've been calling him twice a week for months now. since Mom first suggested we work on writing a book together#in the month since we decided to give that up as a lost cause Dad has gotten noticeably worse. he's gone from losing his train of thought#to talking complete nonsense in a scrambled combination of old memories and things he once read about -- smaller and smaller puzzle pieces#and as things have taken a downward term I know from talking to Mom separately that Dad is also having a lot of trouble with basic self care#balance and bathing and eating and knowing where he is and all kinds of things. all of which is made worse by his memory problems#and by the fact that he outweighs my mom by a good 100lbs. so when he fell in the tub and couldn't get himself out she had to call for help#had to have a church friend who is more than a foot taller than her drive over to help maneuver my dad out of the bathtub#he's also getting obstinate and angry and saying that my mom and my nb sibling who lives with them are the ones with mental problems#all of which means I think they're going to need in-home healthcare ASAP. if not a round-the-clock facility. it's coming sooner or later#but Dad still hasn't officially retired so he's still on his own insurance which apparentlydoesn't have any coverage for that sort of thing#so Mom has to get him to file the paperwork to officially retire and then get him on her insurance. hopefully without a huge confrontation#and I feel like we're running out of time. that he's going to need that care before all the paperwork has time to clear once its started#I feel like we've been barely surviving horrific river rapids and now I'm the ONLY one pointing out that there's a massive waterfall coming#ignoring it won't make it go away or take longer to get here. it'll just hit us with even fewer preparations in place#I have enlisted the help of siblings so hopefully we can convince Mom of the importance of getting the paperwork started#but Mom is so mired in her own grief and busy with work (and she can't quit bc of the health insurance) and unable to get the help she needs#that it's tricky to bring up any of this sort of thing in a helpful way. and all the while Dad is getting worse#meanwhile I'm trying to deal with my own grief and manage my own chronic health situation. and still call Dad twice a week just to chat#and holy hell I'm just so TIRED
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I wanna bite Kalvin Garrah's dick off
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doux-amer · 3 months
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This has been one of the shittiest days in a while and to top it all off, I go on social media for the first time today right before bed to relax and the first thing I see (well, second after my friend's response to a bday message to her) is a dongseng I haven't talked to much or seen in years dropping a post about his announcement with no comment whatsoever. The news wouldn't have been any easier, but to get that from someone who doesn't fucking understand how devastating it is even though she must know that it's sad is the worst possible thing. What the fuck am I supposed to do with you dropping that? I don't want to give you a response! I don't owe you a response! Get the fuck away from me! I don't care that you didn't want to upset me because what the HELL did you think would happen by doing that? I'll send some crying emojis and a broken heart and that's so goddamn empty, but I'm not performing this for you and this is actually upsetting me so bad????? But I wouldn't expect a casual fan of a club that will go unnamed to understand. This isn't just sports to me.
If I had to get this news, I wish I saw it from someone who loves Jürgen as much as I do, whose life was irrevocably changed for the better because of him, who was here in the Before Klopp times, who never had a manager to love as much as we love him. And look at me managing to make myself tear up again.
I understand. After watching the clips on IG and that second one especially...he wants to leave while he's okay, he wants to leave on good terms and if possible on a high note instead of being kicked out after overstaying his welcome, he wants to enjoy life. And he so deserves that. He deserves to know what it's like to just be Jürgen, to be with his loved ones, to do nothing but to simply live. I have so much respect for him that he's going out this way, that he didn't take this decision lightly when he felt differently before (that renewal he signed...), when it's not about how much he loves us. Or rather, it is because he wants to give us his best and his all and he feels that he can't anymore and he's listening to his body and his mind. And he's setting a good example by showing what's really important in the end and taking care of himself. To show there's more to life than this and to be grounded and be a normal guy like he remained throughout even as his life became very abnormal.
God. I love him like I've never loved any manager before. The ones I loved pale in comparison to him. He is and will forever be everything to me, not just for what he gave to the club on the pitch but everything off the pitch from the values he instilled and emphasized to his humor and honesty and big heart and humility and passion and everything, and I'm just so gutted right now thinking about how we had almost a decade with him and I never took it for granted, but I really thought we had a few more years with him. And I thought several years ago about how much I needed to return to Anfield to see how things changed, to experience Jürgen's Liverpool on home ground, and how now that I had a job and steady income that I would be able to go to more matches or at least do it once before the end. And I didn't because of this stupid pandemic. All of that passed without a chance and just. I'm glad I got to at least watch them in person when they came to the U.S. even if it's not the same, but I feel like our time has been cut short and I really can't imagine a Liverpool without him. I never wanted to. I know that there will be because that's the nature of this sport and life and this sport has taught me there's always a beginning and always an end, but...nothing's going to be the same. Nothing's going to be like this. There will never be an era like the one we got under him. There will never be a manager like him.
#love how i was numb when i got that dm that will leave me angry for a long time#it's not even that person's fault but i feel so betrayed and bitter that that's how the news was broken to me#like it didn't mean anything#and then i watched him and i thought i understood his decision#i'm a big adult now. i understand what it's like to not have fuel in the tank and to get on with age#and understand what it means for people to get older...a concept you wrestle with over and over again once you reach adulthood#but then the second clip where he talked about how he's tired...how he wants to experience normal life#which he never had and just. that killed me because i want that for him too#i want nothing but the very best for him#and in that sense it's easier to let go#he's not being kicked out. he's leaving on his own terms. he wants to enjoy life#and with this pandemic more than ever i deeply understand how precious life is#he doesn't want to wake up when he's at the end of his life to start living it#but at the same time because that was so quintessential klopp#to understand what really matters and to say it with so much love#for the team the club the city and us#that was what ruined me more than anything in a way i can't possibly put to words#turns out that i'm not dead inside and i haven't gotten used to goodbyes even if they started coming one after another over the past decade#and the first ones were brutally sharp and painful#and some are still devastating (i'm thinking of tito which is the worst goodbye you can have because he didn't just#leave the game. he passed away) but god. turns out that even if you accept the cyclical nature of things#the turning of the page and the passage of time which stops for no one#you still never get used to this#i can't go to liverpool at the end of the season but god...i want to be there. so bad. SO bad#we love this man so much that we're going to give him his flowers#we'll be doing it throughout the season even if he asked us not to because it's about the team not just him#and we'll give him a celebration and we deserves a parade or something. i don't even know#i love him so much and he always sets an example and is someone to look up to and just#i think i understand now what my college classmate i befriended meant#when he said his role model was wenger and he loved him like a father
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a-b-riddle · 4 days
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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discopaddock · 2 months
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I DON'T WANNA TALK - CHARLES LECLERC
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SUMMARY: charles is mad after the bad race, what can go wrong after screaming at his girlfriend?
PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader
GENRE: angst with happy (???) ending
WORD COUNT: 0.9k
WARNINGS: screaming, crying, charles is mad, traumatizing childhood and parent, ENGLISH ISN'T NY FIRST LANGUAGE
AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiya, was inactive for a (longer) moment, school still sucks, inspiration is taking offence at me and history at school does kill me right now fr (we started the great war recently and watched im westen nichts neues - i hate this kind of films). anyway this was based in this request.
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Charles was angry. No, he was furious.
Race didn't go well. He had to retire after Perez touched him and he ended up in the wall.
Race was good, for two laps he was even leading but then the Mexican showed up and Charles’ good race said “bye bye”.
“Charles,” his girlfriend said after they were finally in their hotel room.
He wasn't in the mood for talking. He didn't want her pity. He wanted to take a shower (another one) and scream in his pillow.
The girl was looking at him, worried. This wasn't the state she has seen him for many times. It was the first time actually.
“I don't wanna talk” he answered only and grabbed some clothes of his and entered the bathroom.
“If you’d like to-” she started but he turned around to face her with anger written on his face, panting.
“Shut up!” Charles yelled at her and entered the bathroom. She was left speechless. There were tears forming in her eyes that started falling down when she heard the slam of the door.
Oh, she really didn't want it to come back.
Life was good, great even, then those memories came to her mind, causing another session of crying.
The girl had no idea what to do.
Her eyesight wasn't so clear as she was looking for the tissues, convinced that her make up was smeared as hell.
When she finally found some in her bag, she next jumped on the bed and covered herself with the blanket.
Her heart was hurt, it didn't crack in shatters but still it hurt as hell.
She felt like that seven year old girl, who was standing in front of her father, crying because he yelled at her.
She was screamed at because of trying to make her dad come to terms with her beloved mother.
It was too much for little Y/N. It hunted her for years.
Especially now, when her and Charles were trying everything to have a baby. She was frightened she became the same as her father and her child would have to experience the same case as she had.
And now it was too much for adult Y/N.
She knew she should meet her therapist as soon as she could but she couldn't since she was travelling with her boyfriend around Asia for the next two weeks and her therapist wasn't doing online appointments.
And there she was, still lying on her side of the king-size bed covered with a blanket and still crying.
Charles wasn't aware of his girlfriend's reaction to his behaviour until he left the bathroom, all showered and with a clear mind, and heard sobs in the room.
He sighed only and went to the bed and took a seat beside the girl. He carefully took off the blanket of her face and saw her with smeared make up, red eyes and runny nose.
She didn't want to talk with him and put her head in the pillow, so he couldn't look at her.
“I'm sorry-” he started but her hushed by the pillow voice interrupted him with:
“I don't wanna talk.”
So Charles didn't talk more but kissed her head quickly and left to the living room, to give her space he knew she needed.
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The next hour went, well, silent.
Y/N wasn't sobbing anymore, just blowing off her nose and coughing from time to time. Charles at the other hand was thinking about his new song and was trying to write any notes but he lacked at stave paper and at any keyboard or piano.
The girl finally got out of the bed and entered the bathroom. She grabbed some cotton pads and put micellar water on it and began to remove her make up.
It was a heavenly feeling for her, since her eyelids were sticking to each other because of the mascara.
Next she grabbed some cleaning foam and removed the rest of the cosmetics and put on the cream.
The girl left the bathroom and went to Charles who was sitting on the couch with some folded paper around.
He heard her steps and turned around to see her face.
“Ready to talk?” he asked only and she nodded, then sat beside him. “I'm sorry, truly” he said, looking into her eyes, that he loved so much. Now they were puffed and red from the crying.
“I know” she answered and hugged him like a koala. Charles wrapped his arms around her body, without saying any words.
“What happened?” the man asked, rubbing her back with his palm. “Tell me, I'm not leaving this without any explanation,” he added in a calm tone.
The girl was silent for a few moments. But then she told him only:
“Father was screaming at me for trying to help.”
Charles was speechless. He knew his girlfriend’s relationship with her father wasn't good, but he didn't know it was that bad. He never asked since her mother told him not to for the girl's mental state.
“I'm sorry, dove. I'm so sorry” he whispered to her ear, trying to comfort her the best he could.
“I don't want to be like him” she mumbled in the crock of his neck and he sighed.
“You are not like him,” he assured her. “You will never be like him,” he added and kissed her temple. “You are a better person than him, dove.”
“I love you” she mumbled.
“I love you too” she whispered back and they remained silent for the rest of the night, cuddled in each other’s arms.
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sttm99 · 1 month
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Only Ever You and Me
Prince!Bakugo x reader.
Part 2 of Till Death Do Us Part
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After the wedding ceremony, you and Bakugo retired to your chambers for the night. He sat at the edge of the bed, faced away from you, his elbows on his knees as he tried coming to terms with everything.
He'd just gotten married. He'd just been wed... to you. He turned back to look at you, watching you as you sit by the large vanity by the windows, pulling at all the pins that held your hair up.
You seemed so calm with this, so at ease despite the fact that you'd just gotten married to a man you'd met no more than 3 times before. Despite the fact that you'd practically claimed ownership over him just moments ago, despite him confessing to you that he loved someone else.
Your possessiveness had thrust him into an unfamiliar playing field. He'd expected someone timid, meek, a woman whom he could intimidate into keeping shut whilst he snuck around with the maid.
But you? Frankly, you intimidated him instead.
He'd realised what he found off about how perfect and regal you seemed. Sure, there was the fact that you may have slight obsessive tendencies laying claim to him like that. But before then, he'd realised that you just intimidated him.
You were the perfect royal, the perfect ruler his people deserved. From all he'd seen about you; you could reassure people, play court so effectively, and you had an energy that made people want to serve you.
He watched, breath hitching as you stood and began untying the sashes that held your dress up, walking towards the divider at the other side of the room, where your wardrobe was.
Even the way you walked was perfect.
You were so... perfect.
The perfect queen for his people.
He frowned as he stood from the bed. He pulled off his coat, threw it into the hamper at the edge of his bed, and then pulled his undershirt over his head and did the same.
"I've been thinking..." he turned his head to face you as you stepped out from behind the divider, now dressed in a flimsy, pale nightgown stopping just below your knees.
"About what?" Bakugo asked harshly with furrowed brows as he sat back on the bed.
"That servant girl you were looking at." You say as you go over to the bed, sitting atop it, a few spaces away from him. "How long has it been going on?"
He frowns deeply at that, glaring at you. "Of what use is that information?"
You shrug, leaning over to him. "These women, you know.... what if she's keeping your child or something-"
"Excuse me?" He spits out, growing angry at your words. Not only had you called her 'this woman', but also insinuating that he'd father a child out of wedlock.
He had some honour, at least. He wouldn't do that to her, to his love. He wouldn't have her keep a child who couldn't even call him his father.
But you just scoff and roll your eyes. "Oh, please. I'm being cautious. I don't need some bastards contesting the crown with our sons when the time comes."
He glares, a brow raised. "Our sons? Contesting the crown? You're thinking too far ahead."
"Far ahead? There's no far ahead with us, Katsuki. We're husband and wife, we should think of our chil-"
"In paper only." He cuts you off. "We're wed on paper only. The history books? Paper. The marriage contracts? Paper! My heart will always be with someone else! With her! You? You're just a position. Even if not you, there would have been another princess for me to marry!"
His words have you glaring, and you're standing, facing him from the other side of the bed. "We've been promised to each other since birth. There is no other princess to marry, Katsuki. It has always been me for you, and you for me. I was always going to be the one you end up with."
There's a glint in your eye as you speak, a sternness and finality in your voice that has him faltering in imagining a reality where he wasn't married to you, as though there really was no one else for him.
"This- this thing you have with that woman is nothing. It's not real. But us? We have the opportunity to create something real, okay? We're married now. We have all our lives to learn to love each other!"
"You're delusional!"
"I'm real!" You yell out. "What's delusional is you going ahead to cultivate a romance with a girl you knew you'd never be with. You've always known you had to marry me, and yet you went ahead to start something with someone you could never have!"
You pause then, taking small breaths as you look at him. "I've always known I'd end up with you. So I didn't bother giving my heart to anyone else." You glare. "You think I'm delusional. But here you are, tricking yourself into believing you could ever be with anyone other than me. If that's not delusion, then tell me what is."
.
.
.
There's silence for several long moments. Bakugo's frozen, hands clenched by his side, chest heaving and lips parted.
You're right.
You're obviously right.
He's always known he would end up with you. He'd always known he'd have no one else but you. Yet he went ahead and started something he knew would have no end. There was no future for him and the other woman.
Because that's all she'd ever be.
The other woman.
The only one he could be with was standing right in front of him.
"I-" He tries to speak, tries to find the words to convey how he's feeling.
"You should send her away," you say as you climb into the bed, settling under the covers. "You'll only break your own heart, allowing her to continue to stay here."
You try to drift off to sleep, try to block out the sounds of Bakugo shuffling into the bed. Until he's pressed up against you from behind, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"What- what are you doing?" You whisper, still facing away from him.
But he just sighs into your neck and pulls you closer to him. "You're right," he murmurs into your skin. "It was only ever going to be me and you... there's nothing else it could have been."
You hum, letting yourself relax in his hold. He's warm, and he's big, his large frame practically folding over you.
"I'll send her away," he says softly, pressing his lips to your neck.
"Good," you murmur, letting your hand rest over his on your stomach. "It'll only be you and me."
And he nods, "Only you and me, my wife."
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entitled-fangirl · 3 months
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His betrothed.
Barty Crouch Jr. x reader
Summary: The youngest Black sibling is getting near courting age. Regulus and Barty have a plan, and Sirius doesn't like it.
Warnings: the Black family literally, cursing, siblings fighting, idk
Author's note: I wrote this while I had a fever, so if it's horrendous, let's not judge :|
Part 2!
Masterlist
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"Siri…?"
Sirius turned his head to look over his shoulder. 
Sweet little Y/N Black was standing behind him with a worried look in her eyes.
Being the caring older brother he was, he pushed James slightly, making room for her to sit next to him at the Gryffindor table of the Great Hall. She accepted, sitting down gently, her expression never changing.
Remus saw the look as well, and seemed to be just as concerned, "What's going on?"
They weren't the only two marauders concerned. In fact, they all were.
When Sirius' sibling Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius had physically cringed. He couldn't stand seeing his darling little sister go through the Black family's mental and physical abuse due to her house. At that point, away from Walburga's watch, the marauders had taken the girl under their wings. During the summer, she still remained in the Black household at Grimmauld Place with her twin Regulus. But during the school year, she was raised by Sirius.
Hence, where this situation had come from.
James threw an arm around the girl's shoulder, leaning close to her ear, "Whatever it is, you can tell us. That's what we're here for."
She simply stared at the plate in front of Remus across the table.
The four boys stared at each other, worried and unsure of what to do at this point.
Her small voice came out, "Mum is having me go to my first… meeting…. This winter…"
Sirius' hand had a steady grip on his fork, his knuckles turning white. His voice was low. Scarily low, "What."
Remus leaned forward to him, "Pads, control yourself in front of everyone."
Sirius' head lifted to him, "I would, but she's 17 fucking years old. Too young to be staring this… this shit…."
The girl remained unmoving, James' eyes never leaving her, "Y/N…?"
A small sigh came from her lips, "that's not all…"
Sirius looked as if he would explode. "Not…all?"
Peter finally peeped, "Is everything going to be okay?"
She looked up at him, "I'm not sure…"
Sirius rubbed his hands over his face before leaning on the table, "Alright, sweetheart. Tell me."
"Mum is… well… setting up… alliances…"
Sirius knew what that meant. Merlin, he knew what that meant. And he was angry. Beyond angry.
Remus' eyebrows furrowed, "…alliances?"
She nodded, her frame getting smaller as if she was shrinking into herself with every word, "It's…. Well it's when-"
Sirius interrupted, "Mum's marrying her off."
The table went silent, each boy trying to come to terms with what they had heard. 
Finally, Peter spoke up, "to…. To who?"
All of their eyes were on her. Well, almost everyone's eyes.
She shrugged, "Mum hasn't told me yet."
James, who had been staring off past the siblings to a different table, was holding a slight smirk to his face. "I bet I can tell you who it is."
Y/N looked up to him with teary eyes, her emotions finally getting to her, "Who?"
His eyes never left the person, his head moving as if to point in that direction. Sirius and Y/N followed his gaze.
Barty Crouch Jr. sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes flickering up in her direction every few seconds. When he saw the entire table looking in his direction, he quickly looked down at his food, as if forcing himself to not look up at her again until they looked away.
Sirius' voice was practically a growl, "It's. Not. Gonna. Fucking. Happen."
James sighed, "I don't know if you get a choice, Pads."
Remus looked up at Y/N, who was near tears. His hand reached out, grabbing hers from across the table, "Hey. Are you alright little dove?"
That was their name for her. Little dove. She was no animangus. But, hoping to make her feel included, they had given her a name during her 3rd year. And it had stuck ever since.
She shrugged, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm not sure."
He nodded, "That's alright. We'll figure this out… Pads?"
Sirius was in his own world. His eyes flickered around the room at every person, as if anyone could jump out and take her from them. 
When Regulus entered the Great Hall, Sirius immediately jumped up, walking to him. "Regulus…"
Regulus stopped, confused. Sirius never spoke to him unless it had to do with Y/N. "…what."
"I want you to tell me what the fuck Mum is doing to her."
Regulus sighed, "Let's…," his eyes wandered around, "Let's get away from listening ears."
"What the hell, Reg?!"
"Hear me out, Sirius!"
"No! You're letting Mum marry her away like a piece of fucking meat-"
"-THAT'S NOT TRUE!"
Sirius went quiet. The only sound in the hall was the occasional student that walked a few corridors over. His voice finally came out calm, "What… what do you mean?"
Regulus sighed, "It's… complicated."
"Yeah, I can fucking tell…"
"Crouch…," Regulus looked like he was ready to get hit by his brother, "he asked."
Sirius' eyebrows furrowed, "Asked for what?"
"Sirius, please. Don't make me spell it out."
"He asked for Y/N?"
Regulus nodded, "He's liked her for the longest time, really. Since I can remember. And when Mum mentioned that she was going to make arrangements for me soon, I panicked knowing she'd be soon after. I told Crouch, and he said he'd happily marry Y/N. And I helped him win Mum's favor." He looked back up at Sirius, "Look. Don't judge me. I'm doing what's best for her."
Sirius scoffed, "'what's best for her'? What's best is getting her away from the hellhole we call our family. They don't fucking deserve her. Marrying her to a fucking death eater, Reg? Not the brightest idea you've had. Merlin…"
Sirius slowly began to walk away until Reg spoke up again, "I thought it through, Siri. Swear to God."
The 7th year stopped, turning around once more, "…how?"
Reggie sighed again, "Crouch… he's… he's only a first generation death eater. There's not many responsibilities he has to hold. He's loyal only to himself and those he deems worthy."
Sirius thinks it over, "And would he be loyal to her?"
Regulus let out a small laugh, "Merlin. He is already."
When Sirius didn't answer, Regulus continued, "He may not be close to his father, but… it gives her options. If they decide to run away, he can protect them. And if she decides just to leave Bartimus, then his father could protect her on his own. Crouch brought it up to Mum as a way to give more connections between the death eaters and the Ministry. But, we both know. It was for her protection."
Sirius was staring to be slightly shocked at his brother's reasoning, "I…. Okay?"
Regulus gave a final statement. "And He'll treat her well, brother."
"How can you be sure?"
Reg shrugged, "Don't believe me? Make them interact. You'll see. He's like a loyal dog. He'll do anything for her."
Sirius sighed, "I should wring your neck. But I won't. Because you've thought this out so well. I won't say I'm agreeing with it. But… I'll let it grow a bit. To see where it goes."
Regulus smiles, "That's all I ask, brother."
….
Sirius entered the Great Hall once more, sitting in his spot with a huff. At this point, James is gently running his hands through the girl's hair. She's talking to Peter and Remus over an omelette, her mind far from the previous conversation.
He interrupts, "We're talking about this later. The four of us."
She turned, "Not me?"
Sirius' tone turned condescending, his voice harsh, "When have you ever been a part of the four of us? You're not a marauder."
James' hand in her hair immediately paused, Peter dropping his fork clumsily. Remus choked on his drink. But none of them said a word in her defense.
She stared at her brother with a guilty look that slowly morphed into slight hatred. Her voice was still as soft as always, but it held a bite to it, "Fine. I didn't want Mum to know I'm around the Black family traitor anyway." She stood up, leaving the table without another word. 
Remus stood up, watching her go, "Dove?"
But she had already left.
She approached the Slytherin table, her red and gold tie standing out from that side of the room. 
And Barty Crouch Jr. was already looking for her, noticing her leave from the Gryffindor table. 
She stood behind him, quietly trying to speak up, "Excuse me?"
Barty's eyes closed. Her voice was so sweet. He never got to hear it. And she was trying to speak to him. This situation couldn't be better. 
He turned around on the bench, a small smile gracing his face and a happy look in his eye, "Hello. What do you need?"
She pointed to where Regulus always sat, "Could I… maybe…?"
He looked over to the spot next to him before immediately, "Oh. Yes. Please."
She sat, finally taking note of the people around him. The most notable one being Lucius across the table.
Lucius held an arrogant look in his eyes, "What? The blood traitor finally got tired of you too?"
Barty's jaw clenched, "Watch your tone, Malfoy."
Malfoy snickered, leaning forward. "Why are you here, Black?"
Barty was becoming highly irritated, "Hey. What did I fucking say?"
Lucius held his hands up in a surrendering way, not saying a word, but his eyes were saying more than his mouth needed to.
She stood, "I'm sorry. This was a dumb idea…"
Barty grabbed her wrist. "No, please. I want you to sit."
She hesitantly does so.
A silence falls over the table before Barty breaks it, "Regulus hasn't been back since Sirius drug him out. Think he beat him up?"
She laughs, "No. I'm sure that just had a small fight is all."
Barty smiles, "I have a feeling I know what it's about."
She nods, deciding to avoid the subject. "Do you have classes today?"
He nods as well, "Just one. Potions. Tell me yours."
She pulls out her wand, waving it. A small piece of paper lands on the table, her entire schedule written on it. She begins to study it to give him an answer.
He leans over to her, peering at it slightly over her shoulder. He smiles, "You have astronomy tonight?"
She nods, "It's my favorite."
He points at one of the classes for the day. "I know where that is. Why don't I walk you?"
She shakes her head, "You don't have to. I know where it is, I just-"
His voice was a whisper, "-please. I would love to."
She decided to look at him finally, and when she did so, she found their faces to be inches apart, his deep brown eyes staring longingly into hers. She felt her face heat up, a light pink shade overtaking them. They stayed this way for a while before she decided to talk first, her voice softer than a whisper as she caught him staring at her lips, "Do you really want to marry me, Crouch?"
He smiled, "More than anything."
The moment sat for a while before she looked away, now a deep shade of red. "Perhaps you can walk me to class then."
"And a walk after dinner."
She looked up at him, "…a walk?"
He nodded, "Please."
He points at another class on the paper, "I can walk you to this one as well… if you'll have me?"
Her eyes soften as tried to see if this was a joke. If he had an ulterior motive. But he didn't.
Regulus came up from behind, completely unnoticed until Y/N felt a kiss to the top of her head and a small, "scoot over."
She did so, pushing herself closer to Barty, who held a smile on his face the entire time.
Regulus could feel the stares from the Gryffindor table. He looked up to meet their gazes, smiling in an almost mocking way at the sight of the two betrothed finally bonding.
She was still looking at Barty, "I…. Yes. I would…. I would like that very much."
He nodded, "Then it shall be done." He stood up, grabbing his books next to him, "I must get to potions, but I'll meet you by the Gryffindor common room entrance before your class, yes?" When she nodded, he gave a nod to her brother, "Regulus," then took his free hand, grabbing the girl's hand, kissing it gently, "Y/N." And with that, he left.
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stevieschrodinger · 5 months
Text
I really want to write this fic but I don't have time so have this.
Post upside down, everyone lives/nobody dies.
Steve and Eddie get together, Steve deals with his gay crisis. Eddie works through his 'holy shit I'm dating Steve Harrington' crisis, and they settle together. It actually turns into a long term relationship and Eddie starts to get comfortable.
Steve does not.
Steve's got a string of rejection and one night stands behind him, so he's kind of watching for signs of the same from Eddie.
Eddie settles in for the long haul, so the honeymoon period kind of wears off a little. Maybe it takes a while, maybe a year or a little more, but it does happen. They get jobs, Eddie has band practice and DnD nights.
And Steve Harrington who has confused sex with love since he was fourteen, doesn't handle it well. He starts keeping track of every time Eddie is 'too tired' or 'ive literally just showered, I wanted to sleep' or ' Steve I wanted to watch this movie' or the hundred other reasons Eddie turns him down all the time.
Eddie doesn't even try to initiate sex anymore, he just turns Steve down half the time or more. And Steve's got a hell of a sex drive, he knows, but Eddie's refusals hurt. They hurt every time, they make him feel unwanted, worthless. Unloved.
And worse, Steve likes their place to be tidy. Something that doesn't even seem to register with Eddie. He seems to be actually blind to anything untidy, like he literally can't see the dishes in the sink or all the books and crap he's left everywhere.
And it drives Steve fucking nuts. He says something. Eddie responds with 'leave it, I'll get it,' but Eddie's time frames for 'getting it' seems to be days long, despite it being a ten minute job.
So Steve stops complaining, and just accepts that Eddie doesn't care at all about how Steve feels, considering Steve has tried to explain to Eddie that he literally can't settle if his space is too messy.
Eddie doesn't even seem to want to understand.
Steve suddenly feels like he's committing some sort of crime because he wants their place to be tidy.
So he just does it all, keeps his mouth shut, and accepts the fact that Eddie doesn't love him. Because Eddie doesn't want him, and Eddie doesn't care about how he feels, and it doesn't matter that Eddie tells him he loves him a hundred times a day, because words don't mean shit.
It's action that talks.
And that goes on for ages, Steve slowly becoming more and more worn down. He stops trying to initiate sex; he's pretty certain Eddie doesn't even notice.
Steve cries about it when Eddie isn't there. Thinks about packing up and just leaving and going to Robs for a while. Thinks he's being melodramatic even if it doesn't feel it.
Comes home after a long day at work and the place is a mess and Eddie's just. Laid on the sofa. Steve looses it.
And he cries like, angry embarrassed tears as it all comes spilling out. And then he just...locks himself in the bathroom.
And obviously they sort it and live happily ever after and meet in the middle with all this stuff. Eddie probably talks to the girls about it and Robs just like..
So do the dishes? It takes two minutes and it will make him happy? You want him to be happy right? And she is right, so Eddie just...spends 20 minutes a day tidying. 20 minutes is nothing, and Steve always looks so thrilled and pleased when he comes home and everything is tidy. So it's easy to just get in the habit of doing it, especially when Steve's so grateful and affectionate with his thanks, and Eddie didn't realise until that moment how cold and absent Steve had become.
Eddie's sex drive just isn't as high as Steve's, it just isn't, but he finds when he's not in the mood, Steve is happy to jerk off while Eddie plays with his nipples and kiss him and tell him how much he loves him.
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mayfieldss · 4 months
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Point blank - Thomas Shelby
Summary: When you are held at gunpoint by one of Tommy's many enemies, he must come to terms with his feelings.
Warnings: being held at gunpoint (obvi), blood, violence, language, suggestive content. Not spell checked at all so beware.
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The cool metal against the side of your skull wasn't exactly the feeling you had hoped for as the night dragged on. You'd thought about many things, and many people that could bring you pleasure and fun, and you'd thought of a warm bed you would love to curl up in when it got too late to stay awake. But this, the gun pressed firmly to your head, had not been one of the sensations you'd hoped for.
"Call him outside," the man holding the gun shouted to a maid who had stumbled upon the scene. She'd clearly stepped out of the Shelby estate in the hopes of a smoke break, as had you, but was met with a more than shocking ordeal. Tommy's side piece, as many had called you, held at gunpoint by an angry stranger.
She ran ahead inside, and you knew Tommy would be out in a matter of minutes. This was a regular sunday for him. For you, though, it was not something you wanted to occur at all, let alone more than once.
"Mathison," Tommy calls, accent thick as a small fog accompanies his words. The night is cold, and everyone that dares speak becomes a dragon. "I doubt this is nessacary." His hands are raised in a disarming gesture, but you know Tommy well enough. In his eyes, there's concern, worry, and that does not at all ease your nerves.
"You said you'd pay me, give me the money for my family, Tommy, you promised." The man that stands behind you grips tighter to your body, your back flush to his chest as the barrel of the gun digs into your skin.
"You'll get your money in good time, I'm an honest man, Mathison, now let the lady go free." He spares a glance to you, and you can tell he wished he hadn't as soon as it happens. His eyes darken as though he won't be able to scrub the memory free of his mind. Not that you matter that much to be remembered. Not to someone like Tommy. You were just a woman he met in dark corners, after all.
"I want the money now!" The mans shout beside your ear makes you flinch, and the gun shakes in his hands. "It's been weeks, and I want what I was promised!" The man is not at all stable, and with his finger so close to the trigger, you aren't confident in your survival rate.
"Tommy, give him the money. Please." You shouldn't speak. It could earn you a number of consequences, but the fear is stronger than rational thought.
Perhaps the same goes for Tommy because you swear you see him think it over. He flexs his hand at his side, trying to stretch out the tension writhing within him. He is a man of business, not of love, and time and time again that four letter word has ruined him. But seeing you, under threat of harm, stirs a particular amount of concern.
"I don't take kindly to threats against my family. And it looks as though you may be threatening me? Am I correct?"
The man behind you doesn't say anything. His hand still shakes and his grip on you is painful, but he knows that to say yes is to mean consequence, and to say no, would be to lie to Thomas Shelby, which won't end well either.
"Right. Well, I'm having a fucking party inside, one that I would be hosting if I wasn't needed to deal to this. I think the best course of action is for you to put the gun down and leave the premises. You will get your money tomorrow, Mr Mathison." His words sound so final. You can almost believe the man that has a hold of you will listen. Perhaps he is listening because slowly, the gun isn't as close to you anymore.
The gunshot is loud, deafening, and your ears ring with the sound of it. You would have thought that was because you were bleeding out, were it not for the loud scream that fell from your lips at the same time as the sound. If you had, in fact, been shot point blank in the head, you would not have time to scream.
The man that once had a hold of you tumbles backward, and you, in shock, fall to your knees in relief, as well as an attempt to lower the chances of being hit by another stray bullet.
Your first mistake was to look back, eyes locking on the blood pooling around the now fallen mans head. You could have been in the same position just moments before.
"Look at me." Tommy's hands come to grasp the sides of your face, not giving you a choice in the matter. He's on his knees in front of you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "Are you alright?"
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut despite his order, and begin to cry. It's embarrassing to do so, but there's is no way you couldn't bring yourself to. Tommy pulls you into his chest, and despite how mad at him you are, you let him.
His heart races as the sound of the gunshot echoes in his own mind, and the feeling of your heavy breaths taken between sobs while devastating, is the most reassuring action in the moment. You're breathing, which means he's kept you safe for now.
-
Later that night, you are sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, still reeling from the nights events. He'd left you in order to send the party guests away and had only just returned.
"I lied before." You mumble as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm not alright."
Looking at him fills you with the deepest anger, how he can stand there, and undo his tie with hands that don't so much as quiver.
"You are a dangerous man, Thomas. I could have died tonight, all because I was foolish enough to get in your bed."
Tommy nods, and you hate the minimal response. "I wasn't going to let him shoot you."
"He could've shot me whether you let him or not!" Your voice is raising even as you don't want it to. He's too calm in the face of this, and that says all it needs to. "We're done, Tommy."
You stand to leave, ignoring the way your muscles feel, still tense even after the ordeal is over. The door is one step away by the time Tommy decides to speak again, but you're already in the hall before he can make a point.
"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." He's followed you out, looking more disheveled now with his tie long gone and shirt half unbuttoned.
"Am I safe with you, Tommy? Because it doesn't feel like it." You're unable to face him, eyes locked on the staircase you so desperately want to run down.
"I can't promise peace if that's what you're askin', but I won't let anyone hurt you. Not as long as I'm alive." His hand on your shoulder is what makes you turn, and you stare him down with what courage you have left.
"Do you love me, Thomas Shelby? Because if you don't, I can't understand why I'd be worth the trouble." It's more of a dare than a question because you're sure he'll say no. And once he says it, you'll have more than enough reason to leave him and never return.
Tommy exhales harshly, and you can smell the cigarettes on his breath, mixed with whiskey from the party. It's not a unique scent among men you've met, but somehow, on Tommy, it's more of an indulgence.
"I thought you knew that already." He mutters, lips closer to yours than they were before. "But I'm sure I can clarify a few things." His hands fall to your waist, a daring gesture but one that isn't uncommon for the both of you before his lips are on yours. Your anger is forced out of you in the form of a kiss, one that is messy and desperate in a way you've only known with Tommy. His breath mixes with yours as do other elements of him, until finally you push him away.
"I'm not forcing you to say it, Thomas. But for fucks sake tell me straight. Do you or do you not love me?"
Tommy grunts in frustration, running a hand over his face. He's an honest man in his own opinion, and he wants to be honest with you, but in doing so he has to do the same for himself. That's harder than most things Tommy does for a living.
"Love is more dangerous than I am, sweetheart. And believe me, my love isn't something you want."
"Yes or no, Tommy." You've pushed back every tear within you and stand like a soldier before him, ready to march away. He clears his throat, loud in the silent hallway.
"Yes. Yes, I fucking love you. now can we please go back to bed?"
You don't answer, but simply wander past him to his room. It's dimly lit, and the sheets look more than inviting after the day you've had. You turn back to him once inside, catching his eyes on your figure.
"I love you too, Tommy."
Slowly, a smile creeps onto his lips, and his eyes cloud over with a look you know too well. "Let's go to bed."
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu
PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:
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reiderwriter · 5 months
Note
Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️
Ps love your writing 🖤
A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+
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Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.
You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.
Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.
You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.
You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.
It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.
When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.
“Who is this?”
It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.
You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”
“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”
“Okay, that was deserved.”
“Why are you calling Spencer?”
“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”
The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.
“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”
“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”
“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.
It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.
Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.
As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.
Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.
“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”
The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.
“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”
“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”
“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.
“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.
“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”
“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”
You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.
“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”
He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.
It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.
“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”
Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.
“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”
You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.
His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.
“I did go a bit insane, you know?”
His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.
“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.
“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.
He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.
And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.
You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.
After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.
Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.
Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.
But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.
Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.
You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.
It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.
“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.
A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.
He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.
“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.
Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.
It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.
You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.
Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.
He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.
It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.
It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.
Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.
You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.
His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.
His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.
He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.
With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.
Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
Text
What Did You Do
masterlist
pairing: tom riddle x female reader, voldemort x female reader
warnings: angst, tiny bit of fluff
summary: throughout your years at hogwarts, you and tom were inseparable, now as a professor you see what happened to him at the battle of hogwarts - requested by anon
a/n: i'm going to age down voldemort and the reader (meaning because mcgonagall is a little younger than voldemort, the reader would be so old lmao. so i'm just imagining the reader is like remus' age, it wont affect the time line, idk if that makes sense sorry)
song: the night we met - lord huron
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Tom was brilliant, so were you. You were both the top of your classes since your first year at Hogwarts.
That's how you two started talking. You would be partnered with each other in most of your classes, you made an excellent pair.
Throughout the years there, you two had grown a bond. Eventually, you both had feelings for each other.
You knew of your affections towards him, you didn't tell him because you didn't want to ruin your close friendship. But Tom had been in a sort of denial, seeing as how he was conceived under a love potion, he didn't think it was possible.
Around your sixth year, he had come to terms with how he felt. You two had confessed to each other after one of Slughorns dinner parties, he had attended as your date.
It came as a shock to most students when the news of you getting together spread.
They had know he had a soft spot for you, but he had never shown any romantic feelings towards anyone before.
It was seventh year and Tom had confessed to you of his plans and becoming Lord Voldemort.
He asked you to join him and be his partner but you couldn't. It was wrong and you knew it, he knew it deep down too.
You figured this was caused by his horrible childhood at the orphanage, he told you all about how he was treated.
He asked you one final time to join or he would have to continue without you.
You stood there in front of him with tears streaming down your face as you shook your head.
He wanted to wipe the tears from your beautiful face, but he knew it would make him tempted to give up the plans he worked so hard for.
So he turned his back on you and left you behind while you cried and begged him to stop what he was doing.
After that night, you hadn't seen him again.
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"Harry!" you call your student, a student who was like a son to you.
You knew of how he got his scar, as did everyone else. It broke your heart each time you thought of what had caused it.
"Harry, be safe, I'll be right behind you," you kiss his head. He goes and runs off to find Voldemort as students and staff start to fill the courtyard and go into a circle.
You quickly walked through the empty halls of Hogwarts, making sure there were no student that needed help.
You finally went outside and saw Harry and Voldemort in a duel.
You gasp at how he looks, this wasn't your Tom. You hadn't seen how he looked since that night so long ago.
You rush over ignoring the calls of people to stop.
"Tom! Stop this!" you yell with angry tears forming in your eyes.
Voldemort blocks Harry's spell and sends one to knock him out for a little while he drops his arm to look at you.
People watching were frozen in their places as they took in the scene in front of them. There were very few people who were aware of your past relationship with Tom.
"Y/n."
"What did you do," you cry. He almost winces at the pain in your voice.
He slowly walks over to you and stops about three feet from you.
"I got the power I've always desired," he explains in a monotone voice.
"Tom... we could have had a future together, look what you've become," you whisper.
"You didn't wish to join me, you didn't expect me to drop everything I've worked for, did you?"
"Yes, I did, because you could have and I would have done the same for you," you try your best to keep your voice from cracking.
He knows you're right. He couldn't look you in your eyes. He looks around at the faces watching as he tries to not think about how beautiful you still are.
You had grown into a stunning woman, and well, he felt embarrassed by what he had come to.
"Stop!" Voldemort shouts, annoyed at his now conflicted emotions.
He feels tempted to stop and apparate you and him somewhere to stay, like how you always dreamed of.
He couldn't, not now. He decided an apology was the only thing he could do, as he went to apologize to you, he suddenly felt pain all over.
He turned his head to see Harry with his wand pointed at him. It was then you both realized he was truly gone.
As he starts to turn to stone, he uses all the energy left in him to look at you, in the eyes this time.
He watches as so many emotions flash through your eyes. He memorized your features in the few seconds he has.
You look at Voldemort on his knees, almost all stone. You see him mouth something, it looks like 'I'm sorry', but you can't be sure.
You watch as he looks you dead in the eye, finally turning completely to stone and dissolving into nothing.
People around you start cheering and hugging as they all celebrate.
Harry turns to you and sees the devastated look on your face.
"I'm sorry that you lost him," Harry says as he hugs you, "not Voldemort, but Tom," he continues.
"I'm sorry too, but you're safe, along with everyone else," you sigh, "that's all that matters," you kiss his forehead and hug him back.
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It took you a while to finally accept that Tom- Voldemort, was gone.
Things slowly got back to normal. Hogwarts was rebuilt and repaired. You continued your teaching career there.
You were sat in your room, in a cottage where you and Tom were supposed to be living.
You decided that if he couldn't be there to live life, you would do it for the both of you.
You pick up some letters he would send you when you were dating, you had saved them all. You look at the box and see one that hasn't been opened. Your eyebrows furrow as you open it. Then, a tear slides down your face as you read it.
My y/n,
If you are reading this, that means I have become Lord Voldemort, and am likely dead now.
I need you to understand that I am not the Tom you once knew. I also need you to understand that I have regretted walking away from you each and every day since I did so.
You were my family, my love, my everything.
I'm sorry I threw that away for power. I know now that it is far too late to go back.
I wish I could though, and spend life with you in that place you always use to tell me about. Unfortunately, it isn't possible. But know that if it was, I would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.
Stay true to yourself, don't turn your back on the people you love, I regrettably made that mistake.
You are a beautiful person, my love, I hope you accomplish all of the things you use to rant to me about.
Please forgive me.
Yours always,
Tom Riddle
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soap-ify · 4 months
Text
nsfw below , mdni.
YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.
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02 — you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.
chapter summary — after chaos broke out during your work, simon attempts to comfort you in his own way.
tags / cw — angst, reader almost has a panic attack, reactions from bad anxiety, reader is yelled at, verbal assault, violence (simon beats someone up), tending to wounds i don't know how that thing works, just reader and simon being awkward, simon is very self aware, smut 18+, outercourse, grinding through clothes, p in v. [3.8k words]
☆ reader written with afab anatomy but gender neutral terms.
masterlist | ao3 | prev | next
If you had the choice to disappear into the void, you would.
The cafe was quite crowded, which was a good thing for the place but not so welcoming for you. The customers kept on rushing in, rambling out orders while you hastily gave them their stuff while trying your best to not mess anything up. You knew the others were working just as much as you, and you didn’t want to seem selfish by thinking that you were having it the worst out there.
Though your brain truly was horribly overwhelmed with the amount of faces in this small cafe. The heat made your head throb, causing you to rub your hands over your face and take a few deep breaths, afraid that you’d break down in front of everyone, feeling your palms getting clammy. It was so hard to keep your voice controlled and polite while talking to the others, making sure that it didn’t crack.
You despised busy days.
Simon was sitting alone at the far edge seat inside the cafe, a cup of bitter black coffee on the table while his brown eyes blankly stared at you, observing your struggles that you seemingly masked quite well in front of others, but well, not for him.
The rest of the taskforce wasn’t here today since it wasn’t a weekend, and normally Simon himself would have never willingly come over at a crowded place like this. But he was feeling too restless in his apartment. Maybe he just needed fresh air. His mind kept on making dumb excuses, even though he was fully aware that he just wished to see you.
Plus it was always somewhat comforting knowing that he would keep you safe.
You were aware of him, aware of his eyes on you and words couldn’t describe how grateful you were. It was as if his familiar presence was the only thing keeping you sane during this shift, knowing that once this was over, you could talk to him if he’d let you.
You had just given the person standing in the front of the queue their coffee, watching them leave before the other person came at the front — some guy who was probably around your age, looking at you with a wolfish grin plastered on his lips that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.
“What would you like, sir?” You asked politely, fumbling with the fabric of your apron behind the counter, thankfully hidden from everyone’s sight. Inhale, exhale.
“A large cup of espresso, sugar.” That man replied, the pet name causing you to internally grimace. Fucking disgusting.
You silently nodded and went back to go over to the coffee machine, only to find out that one of the ingredients had run out. Today truly was your unlucky day.
A wave of panic shot over you as you walked over to the counter once more, facing that man. “I-I am sorry, sir… It seems like the espresso can’t be made due to the shortage of some stuff…” You were unable to hold in the little stammer in your words this time, your breath hitching at the way some anger began making its way over to that man’s face, his mood taking a huge swing. Volatile.
It scared, no, terrified you to see someone angry over something you said. It reminded you of your own parents, reminded you of things you no longer had wished to recall at this point.
“Fuck you mean shortage? What kind of cafe is this?!” The man snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you, his seething rage causing you to freeze on your spot. Fuck, everyone was looking. You hated this — hated the way you flinched at his loud voice, hated the way everyone was staring at you, silence taking over the cafe before soft murmurs could be heard here and there. Gossiping about this.
As if this was just a joke to them, as if all of this was normal.
“I-I understand your anger, sir… But—” Your words were cut off by his impatient slam on the counter. Your eyes widened and everything for a second seemed too silent, too unbearable. Don’t panic, don’t panic…
“You useless slag. Why don’t you just quit this job and—”
“Fucking get off her, you bastard.” A large hand grabbed the strange man’s collar and shoved him out of your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts.
Simon. You had almost forgotten that he was here too. Another wave of humiliation and helplessness hit you as you just stood there, feeling like a weak idiot.
You didn’t even have to speak, not that you were going to, before Simon pulled the man back up on his feet. “You. Come with me.” He growled and dragged the man out of the cafe, leaving behind an unsettling thick layer of silence caused by the commotion. Over a fucking coffee.
Everyone saw it. Everyone saw you getting yelled at. Everyone saw you being fucking useless.
You soon realised that tears had begun blurring your vision, causing you to hastily undo your apron and scurry off into the staff room.
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Simon had that horrendous man thrown into an eerily quiet alley with no one in sight except them both.
“Who do you think you’re messing with?” He growled under his breath, fingers curled up into fists, knuckles a bit bruised and bleeding after having repeatedly punched the man on his face, resulting in a broken nose and some broken teeth. Honestly deserved worse.
Simon didn’t know why he was so angry. He just hated seeing you already on the edge before this man just came in and messed everything up. How dare he yell at you? Scumbag. Simon wanted to spit at him and throw him in the bin like the fucking garbage he was, but he knew that someone could always walk by even in an isolated alley like this and he definitely didn’t want unnecessary attention.
Adrenaline was coursing through Simon’s veins and he could hear the blood rushing into his ears. He looked scary above the man, brown eyes wide and deadly. The fact that his face was covered in that balaclava made him look all the more inhuman.
Thank goodness you weren’t here to witness this.
In Simon’s mind, this was who he really was. Roughened up and turned into this rageful mess after years of brutal training and even worse missions. Trained like a fucking dog. Maybe that was what he was. A dog. Not a human, just a pathetic dirty thing who only knew the worst, who only knew the wrongs.
He was his own poison, killing himself on his own.
With one last kick on the stomach, Simon left the man to weep alone in the alley. He didn’t have to deal with someone like that anymore, all he could think was of you and how you probably were feeling right now.
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Your manager had luckily let you end your shift early today, albeit still having scolded you for creating such a ruckus inside the cafe. For ruining a nice busy day. It made your throat tighten, making you feel as if everyone was blaming you for this. Maybe it really was your fault.
You silently stood outside the cafe, staring down at your hands that were clasped together, your fingers visibly trembling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear the fog in your head. Your moment of silence was broken by the familiar sound of soft footsteps nearing you.
Yes, you had memorised his footsteps. You knew everyone’s, actually. And his were your favourite — oddly soft and quiet, juxtaposing to what you initially expected from someone of his size. He was probably very skilled in sneaking up behind the people.
Simon silently stood besides you, not uttering a word. For a whole minute, it was just silence between you, your eyes nervously darting around before landing on his hands that were uncharacteristically not covered in his usual gloves that he wore all the time except for when you both were all alone.
And that’s when you noticed it, his bleeding knuckles.
“Simon…” You breathed out in panic, voice laced with concern as your eyes repeatedly shot back and forth between his face and his hands. What the fuck happened?
“Didn’t want my gloves getting dirty.” He mused gruffly, his eyes slowly looked down at you, causing you to knit your brows even more.
“He’s not gonna bother you again, love. No one is.” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, one hand of his reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. He really wasn’t bothered by the mild cuts on his knuckles. In fact, he really didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking of bandaging it.
“Let’s go to my place.” You urged him, lips a bit pouty while worry was etched over your face.
He couldn’t help but find you adorable.
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Once you both reached your apartment, you were quick to push him onto the couch and hastily grab a first aid kit, scurrying over to sit beside him on the couch.
“Show me your hands.” You mumbled softly, causing him to reluctantly let your gentle hands hold his callused, larger hands. What a contrast. He felt guilty for making you hold such a dirty, damaged thing.
You were quick to clean up his hands, carefully touching the cuts with the cotton pads. You didn’t even want to imagine what Simon was capable of. Your eyes scanned his hands carefully, admiring every scar on his skin.
You never really thought much of it. Sure you knew that he was in the military, always doing some sort of highly dangerous work. But you never really saw that side of his — scary one. So it was fairly easy to forget his real strength until moments like these came to remind you. Though you never really disliked him for it.
You don’t think you could ever dislike him. He was just… everything.
Ever since you both have come to your place, all you could think about was how he stood up for you. You didn’t like pity, but the fact that someone cared, especially if that someone was Simon, made you feel all the more warmer aside.
He did care for you, right? Were you too fond of him? Too in awe of him?
You dabbed some antiseptic on the cuts before applying some cute panda bandaids on his knuckles. He stared at them questionably, brows furrowed though an amused scoff soon escaped his lips behind the mask. “You don’t own normal bandaids?”
“These are normal!” You grumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Just kiddin’... They are cute like you.”
You got up to put the kit away and wash your hands before coming back to sit besides him, pulling your knees to your chest, silence filling the room up once more.
Simon could see how you were still shaken up, the frown etched on your face accentuating the storm of thoughts raging inside your head. It made his heart ache, though he didn’t move a muscle at all, silently staring at you from the corner of his.
He didn’t know how to comfort you at all.
All he knew was how to handle guns and beat up people. All he knew was how to ignite a sense of terror within people.
Simon didn’t want to think of himself as a monster, the word alone making him think of no one other than his father. He wasn’t that man, he wasn’t.
He sighed behind his balaclava after a while and shuffled a bit closer to you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.
Your body tensed up for a second, and he was just about to back away once he sensed it before you eventually relaxed and leaned into him, a trembling sigh escaping your lips. He was warm, and you couldn’t help but think of him as a blanket that was shielding you from the world. A protector. Though he really wasn’t that, right? What even was he to you?
You didn’t want to think of that right now, not when your brain was already so exhausted after everything that happened today, the little bit of confidence you had already shattered.
Simon’s hand slowly snaked behind your back, drawing lazy discreet circles on your waist through the fabric of your shirt. You could make out some of them — a circle, then a star, then some random incomprehensible shape that he probably just made up on the spot and then a star again. This act of his made you smile a bit, your eyes fluttering up to look at him, only to find him looking back at you.
You had caught him staring at you multiple times before, but this moment felt so different — more cozy and intimate. It made your heart skip a beat, your brain feeling all foggy due to the sudden wave of happiness shooting within you.
Simon probably noticed the change in the air too since his hand was quick to pull back and settle on his lap, fingers drumming on his thigh, pretending as if nothing happened. It left you confused, disappointed even, but more so at yourself then at him. Why were you making every little interaction with him such a big deal? He didn’t like you the way you liked him.
Simon was silent for a while, multiple thoughts going on within his head. His large hand slowly drifted towards you once more, this time towards your thigh, fingers absent-mindedly caressing you. Well, he could comfort you in the way he knew of.
Your body was quick to react to his touch, your breath hitching while you were simultaneously a bit embarrassed of how you were so used to his touch, used to the way his caresses would make you squirm. You could already pick up on his intention behind this, to somehow get your mind off whatever happened in your job today.
“C’mere, love…”
His callused hands pulled you onto his lips with ease, holding onto your hips, your face facing his, eyes meeting. You swear you could feel the world slowing down every time your eyes would meet his, his stare alone coaxing you to lean into him, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck while your fingers curled up into the fabric of the large grey hoodie he was wearing.
“I’ll take care of you. I promise.” His gruff voice came out as a whisper, making your heart swell yet ache at the same time. Yes, please take care of me, these words repeated over and over in your head while you sheepishly nodded against his neck.
His hands were quick to work, not letting you do a single thing, lifting your hips up gently as he slid down your pants, carefully removing them all the way down, letting it drop to the ground. Your hands reached down in attempted to undo his pants, though he just lightly smacked your hands away and shook his head, huffing softly as he unbuckled the belt and unzipped his pants on his own, tugging them alongside his boxers just a bit so his cock was free from the restraints, already semi-hard.
Your mouth watered at the familiar sight that always made you all heated up and blustered, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes stared down at his cock, admiring the veins that adorned it. It was just perfect — girthy and uncut.
“Simon…” A meek whine left your lips while your eyes literally pleaded him to do something, anything to just somehow make your mind empty, to let you forget about everything, to let you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that you were with him.
His cock twitched at the noise you made, one hand of his tight gripping your hip in position while his other hand gently grabbed the base of his cock, beginning to rub the head against your clothed cunt, watching the way a wet patch was forming on your panties.
“D-Don’t tease me like this!” You grumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt the swollen head of his now hardened up cock bumping against your clothed clit, making your hips bucking towards him, desperate for more.
“Don’t nibble your lip like that, love. You’re gonna bruise it.” He breathed out, his eyes falling onto your lips that looked so kissable, making him clench his jaw behind that balaclava of his. No, he couldn’t kiss you.
He continued to play with you like this, rubbing and smearing his precum on your panties, continuing to grind against your clothed cunt, ruining this pair of panties. You mentally noted that you should buy some new ones this weekend.
It wasn’t until a few moments later that you started to feel the familiar tight knots building in your abdomen, a soft whimper leaving your lips while your fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie, desperately grinding back against his clock. “P-Please, please, Si… So close, pl—”
He stopped, gently pushing you slightly backwards on his lap so his cock was no longer touching you. A frustrated sob left your lips as you glared at him in confusion, eyes all glossy and he couldn’t help but grin behind his mask, noticing how adorable you looked like this. He already knew that he had successfully distracted you from your thoughts. He knew this wasn’t the ideal way. Hell, he should have actually cuddled with you and shared some comforting words. But fuck, he can’t. He shouldn’t. He is already being selfish enough with this whole thing you two have going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk progressing into something more.
He was a fucking asshole, he knew it. He knew of how he didn’t deserve you, and you definitely didn’t deserve a broken, fucked up in the head man like him. You deserved better.
But you two were already so far into this, weren’t you?
“Ssh, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum properly.” He assured you, gently pulling you into him once more, his fingers pushing your panties aside and giving your throbbing clit a few sweet rubs before positioning the head of his twitching cock in front of your entrance, looking at you while you were looking down at the spot your bodies were about to be connected at, literally swooning.
“Please…” You pleaded, feeling his cock gently smear your slick all over your folds before beginning to gently push into your tightness, a quiet grunt leaving his lips at the way you clenched around you, still struggling to fully get used to the way his girth would stretch you out. Your head fell onto his shoulder, panting softly as you tried to relax, feeling him slide into you slowly, inch by inch until he was fully snug inside your tight cunt, the cloth of your panties gently grazing against the side of his shaft.
“Takin’ me so well, aren’t ya? Always do. That pretty cunt of yours is so perfect.” He praised hoarsely into your ears, his affectionate words driving you over the edge, feeling him begin to lazily fuck his cock in and out of your fluttering cunt, hitting the spongy spots inside you with ease, as if having them all memorised within his head. Shaky moans would leave your lips at the blissful feeling, eyes rolling back into your head once you felt the head of his cock slam against your cervix, him making sure that it wasn’t painful at all. His hand massaged your hip gently, fondling the flesh and gently guiding you to grind against him while his other hand slid in between your connected bodies, caressing the moist skin of your thigh before moving in between to lightly rub your clit, feeling you clenching around him tightly.
You felt fuzzy, leaning into him fully to let his warmth relax you, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against you while your eyes fluttered shut, head fully nuzzled into his neck. You felt the knots building up again, even stronger this time, leaving you with no time to warn him before your orgasm washed over you hard, your walls spasming around him while a muffled moan left your lips, his fingers rubbing your clit just heightening up your sensitivity. He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with adoration at the way you cummed around his cock, his shaft having a white ring around him, filling his heart with a sickeningly proud feeling at the realisation that only he was capable of making you cum so hard, of making you get rid of all those thoughts.
His own orgasm flooded within him soon after, balls tightening up as he pulled his cock out of your cunt and gave it a few pumps, spraying the thick strings of his cum all over your sweaty, trembling thighs.
Both of you were breathing heavily, tingles spreading through your skin that made you smile at how full of pleasure you felt right now, all floaty as you fully collapsed onto him, clinging onto his tight while his sticky cock rested against your inner thigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.
“Si… Thank you so much…” You sleepily babbled, your breathing getting calmer.
He wished that he could show you the stupid smile that was spread on his face right now.
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“I am goin’ to go for deployment after two days.”
He randomly announced that night, causing you to freeze and look away from the movie you both were watching and towards him, eyes all wide. What the fuck? And here you were being happy that he had decided to stay with you tonight, having agreed to spend some time with you.
You were making it all up, all this happiness and whatever feelings and signals you thought you were getting from him. Deployment. God, you hated that word and the way it filled you with dread, the way it always left you all anxious during the weeks he’d be away, fighting god knows who, literally a mistake away from walking on a bridge from life to death.
“How long…?” You quietly asked, trying not to seem so fazed by his sudden words, fingers fiddling with your shirt while your eyes looked away.
“Dunno… I believe it won’t be longer than two weeks. Don’t worry, love.” He mumbled after a while, subtle warmth lingering in his voice as his hand reached to gently caress the back of your head, causing you to sigh softly and lean into him, frowning a bit.
“Okay… Stay safe, Si.”
You trust him. Of course you do.
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Liar. Fucking liar. It had been three weeks, three weeks without any contact from him, or any news from him. He wasn’t on this mission with Kyle as far as you knew, so there was no point in asking him.
Was Simon safe? Was he wounded? Did he get captured? Did he get tired of you? Is he finally getting rid of you? Is he… abandoning you?
You tried to shake these thoughts off your mind, trying to remember that his job was a hard one. Still, you stupidly kept grabbing your phone, desperate for any notification or noise.
Only to be met with silence.
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notes : thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter :( !! i feel truly grateful. also... feeling evil i love fucking stuff up for simon.
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cloud-laufeyson · 6 months
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Mistakes Happen
Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader
Summary: You help Mike after getting a call from Abby.
Reader’s pronouns: she/her
Word Count: 946
Story Contains: enemies to lovers
Notes: I did not reread this, I'm so sorry. I will be writing a longer fanfic
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“Y/N please come to my place! I need help!” You didn’t even get a chance to ask any questions, Abby hung up. It felt like your mind was going 100 miles per hour. You excused yourself from the professor's class and ran to your car. You broke every single speed limit known to man. ‘Why on earth would ABBY call me and not Mike?’ You parked in front of Mike’s house and burst through the door. 
“ABBY!!” You yelled throughout the whole house. Abby came running to you and took your hand. “It’s Mike, I don’t know what’s wrong, he didn't come home last night!” She is crying, her eyes are so puffy. You went down to one knee. “Abby, breath. I will go find him. Please stay here okay?” You tried getting back up, but Abby yanked your hand down. “Let me come with you.” You had to be stern or else she wouldn’t drop it. “No. Stay here.” Abby looked like she was going to protest. “No questions, stay.” Abby ran to her room and slammed the door. You walked out the house and locked it.
You and Mike weren’t…on great terms. You two used to go find contract jobs together, but you stopped because you wanted to go to college and wanted to get a steadier job. You two were close, but you stopped. Mike wouldn’t let you explain. Mike didn’t talk to you for a long time, but a year later he needed a babysitter and you were the only person left he could think of. You were still mad at him, but adored Abby. Mike had his own problems and you never wanted Abby to see that. 
You drove to his new job at this abandoned pizzeria. You saw Mike’s car so you locked yours and looked inside his. Nothing was there so you went inside the pizzeria. You walked through the entire building until you found a security room. Mike was there, passed out on the desk. You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Mike, wake up.” You nudged him but he didn’t wake up. You got close to his ear and yelled, “MIKE!” With that, he gasped and jolted awake. “What the fuck y/n?” You snickered a bit, but saw the sleeping pills. You got frustrated within seconds. “What’s that?” You ask with a knowing tone. Mike grabbed the bottle and shoved it in his pocket. “Nothing,” he mumbled. 
“Stop lying to me, you coward.” Mike got instantly angry after you called him that. “Excuse me?” 
“You heard me Mike. You said you were going to stop with those things after everything that happened here!” You huff and start pacing. Mike sighed, “Why do you care? I said I was trying to do better.” You stopped pacing and stared him down.
“Why do I care? Mmmm I don’t know maybe because Abby called me crying saying her big brother wasn’t home. And you call THIS doing better? Giving up on Abby isn’t better.” You kept pointing your index finger at him. Mike sighed really loudly. “I’m trying.” He whispered and you laughed at his response. “Trying? Any more lies to tell me?” You start pacing again. “I’m leaving.” Mike says as he grabs his jacket, walking past you and nudging you. “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.” Mike looked back. “Don’t say that.”
“Mike, pull yourself together. We may hate each other, but I care for Abby so much. You hurt her today. She was crying.” You frown and shake your head. Mike walks back over to you. “Why did you leave me?” You were in shock. “What?” 
“Why did you leave? You were always job hopping with me.” Mike looks at you with pleading eyes. You sigh, “Mike I told you. I wanted a job that would last more than 3 months. I wanted to go back to college. I didn’t want to leave you behind. I was prepared to still see you and Abby everyday.” You explain, hoping Mike would understand. He sighs, feeling the closure. “I get it. I was so mad…” He trails off into his own world. You walk up closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Mike just stood there hesitating. “I know you were…I’m sorry.” He hugged you back after you said those words. “I’m sorry too,” Mike whispers into your ear, melting into the hug. You two enjoy the moment for a few seconds. 
“I’ll promise to talk to you everyday if you promise me you’ll stop with those pills.” Mike sighs at your proposal and eventually agrees. “Okay.” He took the pills out of his pockets and threw them in the garbage can across the room. You smile and look at him. “Thank you. Now you need to go home and see Abby.” You start to walk away. 
“Y/n?” You hear Mike call your name. You turn around and without being able to say anything, you feel his lips on your own. They were a bit chapped, but so warm. You melt into the kiss, kissing him back, finding your hands in his hair. The kiss is so passionate and goes on for a minute. Mike pulls away slowly. “You don’t know how long I've been wanting to do that,” Mike says, breathing heavily, still keeping eye contact with you. You were staring at him. “I’ve been waiting for that since the day I met you,” you say laughing a bit. Mike kisses you one more time. 
“Want to spend the night over? Abby and I did scare you today.” Mike smiles, grabbing your hand to walk you both out.
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thexianzhoujade · 2 months
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「 forget you | hoyoverse fanfiction 」 dan heng & kaeya x gn!reader | angst, amnesia | general fanfiction. ↳ additional tags. angst with no comfort, established relationships, mentions of alcohol & drinking (kaeya), i'm not sorry ↳ ehehe... oops... happy one hundred to the xianzhou jade !!
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DAN HENG didn't quite know what to expect when welt texted him about your situation. his own partner in an accident? he knew that he should have been persistent and gone with you and march 7th. he should have fought to go with you, he should have- he should have done a lot. after a few painstaking days of you being trapped in a comatose state within belobog's hospital with every visitation request denied, dan heng decided that he had more than regrets about this.
he spent his days and evenings restless, pacing his room with every thought rushing through his mind; would you survive? would you hate him? he figured you had every right to despise him. no amounts of time spent with his head in documentation, tracing over booklets of planets and history books regarding the aeons could ease his mind.
dan heng felt guilt, as if he only had himself to blame for standing there so quietly as you and march excitedly announced that you were going to belobog on behalf of himeko. march chimed in that you'd use it more as a shopping trip and whilst you laughed it off, dan heng silently wished he could go just to protect you. you were capable but he was anxious, losing you was the last thing he wanted.
this feeling would eat at him for as long as the doctors tending to you kept rejecting the astral express' visitation requests. he wanted to see you and now it felt as though he had to pay the price - another price... wasn't he paying enough already? his heart could rot from the amount of guilt he withheld inside of him, not daring to utter it to the older members of the crew. it could break his ribs, tear him open but he'd refuse to mention it.
miserable, dark grey clouds covered belobog's usual sunshine, painting the city in a dull appearance that could only match dan heng's numb emotions as the astral express crew navigated the streets of the city, finally on their way to see you. in march's bandaged hands - she'd taken the lesser of the injuries, coming back onboard the express with a few scrapes - was a beautifully wrapped bouquet of flowers, a bittersweet get-well-soon gift in light of the news that they'd receive along with their permission from the doctors; you had amnesia and they were still testing what you remembered from the accident.
he was nervous - no, he was far more than nervous. it showed on his face the moment they all solemnly shuffled into the tight hospital room, grimacing as they brushed against each other to gather around your bed. except there wasn't a form of excitement on your tired face but rather a look of confusion. welt cleared his throat first, eyes darting to look at dan heng's sudden loss of colour that drained from his face.
"they don't remember," he whispers to himself, as if no one else was around him. he takes a moment to lean back on the wall, "they don't remember me."
it takes welt's hand on dan heng's back to guide him out of the room shakily but nothing feels real anymore. all the memories, chaste kisses and moments where dan heng had done more than warm up to you in light of his past and previous life. you remembered none of it, not an ounce of the love he'd grown comfortable enough to give you, nothing.
dan heng's legs feel weak under him as his heart tears apart. perhaps this was a clean slate in terms of his regrets in protecting you, he could have done better and now he has a chance to wipe it all clear for you - you're not angry at him but he knows it's because you simply don't remember what happened.
he'll protect you better this time, more closely and not taking his eyes off of you. maybe one day, he'll tell you about the relationship the two of you shared; the kisses under the stars and the nights curled up together reading your own books. he would still love you. he'd always love you.
it felt like a fever dream when amber came to find KAEYA while he was on a commission for the knights. he hadn't been drinking on the job when the brunette arrived nor had he consumed any that morning... so how come she was spewing nonsense about you being seriously injured on a commission?
the cherry on the top? you didn't recognise a single person who'd visited you on bedrest. not jean, not barbara, not mika or lisa, not even noelle. and as your partner, kaeya was terrified by that prospect. you saw noelle and jean daily, always in cohorts with them - hell, you would see lisa sometimes more than you saw him, thanks to the busy nature of his rank.
if you didn't remember them without a sliver of recognition, would you remember him? he found it hard to breathe the whole way back to the city of mondstadt with a restless young brunette at his side and - begrudgingly, kaeya hadn't even invited him along - the owner of the dawn winery. diluc was equally as pained to hear of your accident from amber and who was he to not be there during possibly one of the most painful times of his brother's life? he'd done him wrong before, multiple times and perhaps he had tried to brush their brotherly relationship off but he was his brother, his found family. now, he needed him.
there was only so much dread that could consume kaeya's tall body. the peaceful sounds of mondstadt no longer soothed him on his walk to the city like it usually did after a commission, no. in fact, it was killing him. he wanted to hold your face in his hands, his breath fanning over your lips as he stares into your hands. he wanted to see that beautiful smile of yours again, the way you roll your eyes at his drinking antics.
what was he supposed to do if you had forgot about him too? amber says you'd taken heavy trauma to the head. amnesia... amnesia is what ruined his life this time? not family issues and abandonment, not a family death and the awful grip of guilt and anger... amnesia. memory loss. something that had so bitterly taken his beloved from him. you'd been the first person kaeya had truly warmed up to since he drifted away from diluc. the first person to see his true sides, to see his sheer raw emotions.
kaeya had had plenty of time to prepare for this endeavour on the way into the city, knowing the chances you'd forgotten him were plenty high with how you'd forgotten the other knights. yet to hear you utter the words "who are you?" with such an innocent look to your face, overridden by confusion, it shattered his heart. his lungs felt like he was suffocating and he almost wanted to choke out 'your partner' into the air but he doesn't.
instead, with the reassuring touch of diluc's calloused hand on his shoulder, kaeya forces a weak smile onto his face, sun kissed skin glowing in the golden light of the sunset that breaks through the open window in your room as he clears his throat to reintroduce himself to you, "i'm kaeya."
his voice cracks, a dead giveaway to those in attendance that he was struggling with the reality of this. because of you, he'd lacked to drink as much on the evenings but now... diluc was already preparing to drag his brother away from the taverns, muttering curses that drinking was not the right coping mechanism. he'd be at his brother's side even if the latter reeked of wine.
kaeya would love you all over again, he'd spend so much time with you it would be suffocating if only it meant you fell in love with him again. a second chance to right his wrongs, to kiss those lips again. you were his, he wasn't going to let you fall into the hands of anyone else. he'd fix this.
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