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#ive heard word x often enough that i should know it but i never really used it myself so i dont remember
l1nghuarchive · 1 year
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HI THERE ASTRIE!!! I was browsing through ur blog when i realized. wait. i can request mystic messenger stuff???? WOH OMG????
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Well as a die hard Yoosung simp, now i feel like ive been called upon by hatsune miku herself to request a Yoosung x reader where they dye their hair together (oneshots pspsps)
Ive never requested anything from u before, so feel free to decline this! and also. TAKE. UR. TIME. Idk if u know this from how i am on Amia's blog but. IF U ARENT TAKING CARE I WILL BE VV ANGRY >:( SO U BETTER NOT OVERWORK URSELF OR GRGRGRRRR
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Pairing : Yoosung Kim x reader
Warnings : n/a (mention of rikas death ig?)
A/n : i actually took my time :') (1 week+) hope you enjoy this tho!! Btw you are NOT the mc and instead a college friend of yoosung.
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COLLEGE was rather… Stressful to say the least, with you entering one of the best universities out in Korea you expected yourself to always do good in your studies and that is what you did. Though, you didn't expect yourself to befriend one of your classmates who didn't really enjoy studying as much which really made you wonder how he even got into SKY University perhaps by luck? But yet you heard that Yoosung got in with a scholarship and is going to be working for the corporate heir Jumin Han, of course silently you did envy him after all being on C&R's waiting list could only be achieved in your dreams..
You didn't expect to be dying your hair on the weekends where you could be studying for upcoming exams, well you didn't really have any choice with Yoosung's constant pleas. You both decided to dye your hair together since Yoosung's hair colour was fading as well,though your parents wouldn't have allowed you to dye your hair they aren't here to nag at you! So why not just live your life without the eyes of your parents?
You were lucky enough to convince your parents to pay for your tuition fees, after all you were a grown adult and should be finding a job instead of asking your parents for money. Though they did pay a crazy amount to get you in here, you still felt guilty for them spending so much on you.
Yoosung's voice awoken your train of thoughts before your vision cleared as you saw Yoosung snapping his fingers in front of you with a worried face.
"are you okay? You don't look too good.. I didn't put any hair dye on your eyes right!?!"
You shook your head before a calm smile on your face as both of you waited for your hair dye to dry, you weren't one for small chatter and often it was Yoosung who started conversations between you both though it was silent between you both it wasn't awkward at all and instead it just added to the calm atmosphere.
"So, how is RFA doing..? Do you perhaps plan on holding another party soon?"
You always refrained from talking about anything related to RFA after hearing that Yoosung's cousin had sadly passed away, comfort wasn't your strong suit but yet you still try and gave him encouraging words. Though you always wanted to attend a party held by the RFA and even if you got the chance, you knew it might clash with your studies after all you had always placed studies above all even when you were in high school. You never really went to parties, instead you were always cooped up in your own room reading or studying you technically weren't a loner. You still had friends but they weren't really in your inner circle and you only interacted with them when it was lunch.
You looked over to see Yoosung ranting about the new member of RFA with stars in his eyes, unknowingly a small smile dawned on your face for some reason your heart was slightly warm perhaps not used to this feeling of someone actually wanting to talk to you though you won't deny it isn't a good feeling.. You had always found yourself smiling and enjoying whenever Yoosung rants about his day or his games, was this what your books.. Call a crush?
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Reqs are closed as of currently sorry! Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated tysm if u do any of those!
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dadbodosamu · 3 years
Text
only you || part v
Stepdad!Osamu x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: spit, semi-public sex, alcohol, oral (f+m receiving), male masturbation, female masturbation, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, hair pulling, cum eating
5.6k words
part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too
“Can’t I just stay the night?” Atsumu groaned as he got dressed.
“We’re going out tonight,” Osamu said, throwing Atsumu’s shirt at him.
You rolled over in the bed, pulling the blanket over your nude form. You propped yourself up on your elbow, appreciating Osamu’s strong body as he pulled his boxers up.
“Good morning, baby,” Osamu said, smiling as he leaned down to peck your lips.
“Mmm, morning,” you hummed. “What time is it?”
“Five in the afternoon,” he said. “You only slept for a few hours.”
You nodded, stretching out and yawning. “I’m going to shower,” you mumbled, sitting up.
You looked at Atsumu, who was still standing in your room.
“What?” He asked, finally noticing you staring at him.
“Get out,” you said, gesturing towards the door.
“Like I wasn’t just balls deep in yer pussy,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and walking out.
“Like you didn’t nearly cum in your pants while I choked you!” You called after him. You smiled as you heard him grumbling from the hallway.
“Ya okay?” Osamu asked.
You shrugged as you stood up on wobbly legs. “A little sore.”
You took a step towards your bathroom and your knees buckled. Thankfully, Osamu managed to grab your waist before you could fall.
“Let me help ya,” he said, holding you steady as you shakily walked to the bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the tub as he started the shower.
“I’ve got it from here,” you said. Your legs shook as you stood up but they stayed under you.
“Call if ya need me,” Osamu said, helping you into the shower.
You showered quickly. You brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before joining the twins in the living room.
“You never said where we were going tonight,” you said, curling up by Osamu on the couch. “How should I dress?”
“Casual,” he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. “What you’re wearing now is fine.”
You glanced down at the sundress you were wearing. It was longer than your other one, so it already had Osamu’s stamp of approval.
You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder.
“We’re getting dinner? Great, where are we going?” Atsumu asked, plopping down next to you.
“We’re getting dinner and yer goin’ home,” Osamu said.
“Worth a try,” Atsumu said, shrugging. “Kiss goodbye?”
“I’m gonna kick yer ass,” Osamu said. Atsumu stood with a smirk.
“Not even a lil one?” Atsumu said. You smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t forget to cover that bruise on your throat,” you said, sitting back down. Atsumu whipped out his phone, swearing loudly when he saw the hand-shaped bruise across his neck.
“Damn it, what am I supposed to tell the boys?” Atsumu asked.
You shrugged as you cuddled into Osamu’s side.
“That you like getting choked by cute girls?” You suggested. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Atsumu groaned out a goodbye as he left.
Osamu pulled you into his lap and peppered kisses on your face as you giggled.
“Not that I don’t like it, but what was that for?” You asked, smiling after he kissed your lips.
“What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Osamu asked, kissing your nose again. “Just wanna remind ya who ya belong to.”
“Never forgot,” you said, pecking his lips. “Need I remind you whose name I was moaning the whole time?”
You cupped his face and peppered him with kisses. “I love you, Miya Osamu.”
“I love ya,” Osamu said, kissing your lips one more time. “Let me go get dressed and we can go eat.”
“I guess I can let you go,” you said, moving off his lap. You laid on the couch, watching him walk down the hallway.
You checked your phone, responding to a few messages from your school friends and checking your socials. As expected, your mom’s ‘it’s complicated’ status had garnered a lot of attention. Comments ranging from ‘oh, i’m sorry sweetie’ to ‘i never liked him anyway’ to, to your joy, ‘he was too young for you anyway, don’t you have a daughter his age?’.
You cackled as you scrolled through the comments. Your mom had even responded to some, stating ‘he knows what he did’. You rolled your eyes and closed your facebook.
“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping in front of you.
“When you are,” you said.
The restaurant was small and cozy, with the scent of fresh bread filling the air. You smiled as Osamu led you to a table in a secluded corner, pulling out your seat for you before sitting across from you.
“Everything here is fantastic,” Osamu said as you read over the menu. “My friend from uni runs this place, he’s almost a better chef than I am.”
“Almost?” You questioned. “So humble, Osamu.”
“Miya-kun!” A man exclaimed, rushing towards your table.
“Takahashi-kun,” Osamu greeted, smiling at the man.
“It’s been a while!” Takahashi said. “This the wife?”
You winced.
“Ah, not yet,” Osamu said. “I’m actually in the process of getting a divorce. This is my girlfriend, L/n Y/n.”
You smiled widely. “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said.
“Nice to meet you! It’s nice that you managed to get Miya to drag you out here, he rarely makes time to come visit his old friends,” Takahashi said. “I think I met the wife once? Maybe twice.”
“I have my own restaurant to run,” Osamu said. Takahashi rolled his eyes. “You can also visit me.”
“I have my own restaurant to run,” Takahashi said with a small laugh. “Speaking of, what can I start you off with?”
Your food came out quickly. Takahashi made polite conversation before leaving you two by yourselves.
“So, tell me about your childhood,” you said. “I feel like we only ever talk about me.”
“What do ya wanna know?” Osamu asked, taking a bite of his rice.
“What are your parents like?” You asked.
“My ma raised us alone,” Osamu said. He smiled before continuing. “Our dad wasn’t that great, he left when we were still babies.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said.
Osamu shrugged. “He wasn’t a great guy, anyway. Leaving was probably the best thing he ever did for us. He used to abuse my ma. He tried to come back when Tsumu and I were in high school, but we ran him off.”
“Ran him off?” You asked.
“He got a lil too hands-on with ma, and Tsumu and I kicked his ass out the door and told him not to come back,” Osamu said. “And that was the last time we saw him.”
You hummed. “Good for you, then.”
“But yeah, ma raised us by herself, never remarried or anything. She worked two jobs just to support us and put us through volleyball,” Osamu said. “But she never missed a game.”
“She sounds great,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“She is,” Osamu said, smiling fondly. “I can’t wait for ya to meet her.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, smiling. “Tell me something else, I want to know everything.”
Osamu smiled at you before reaching across the table and grabbing your free hand.
“Tsumu and I have always been really competitive,” Osamu started. You smiled at him as he spoke.
“I really enjoyed the food,” you told Takahashi as he cleared off your table. “And thank you for the dessert, it was amazing.
“Anything for a friend!” Takahashi exclaimed, stacking the two empty plates in his hands. “And don’t worry about the bill, consider it on the house.”
“I owe you one,” Osamu said.
“I’ll take salted salmon onigiri and your miso soup any day of the week,” Takahashi said, smiling widely. “It was nice meeting you, and Miya-kun, it was nice seeing you again. Don’t be a stranger!”
“I’ll try to come by more often,” Osamu said. You both stood after Takahashi disappeared into the kitchen. Osamu grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant.
“That was nice,” you said, swinging yours and Osamu’s arms.
“It was,” Osamu agreed. “What do ya want to do now?”
“I don’t know, do you have anything in mind?” You asked.
“There’s a club I like that’s not too far from here,” Osamu said.
“That sounds fun,” you said, smiling. “You’re buying the first round of drinks.”
“Deal,” Osamu said. He stopped abruptly, tugging you into his chest and leaning down. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips.
“You keep saying that like the world’ll end if you don’t,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him again.
“Jus’ don’t want ya to forget,” Osamu mumbled. “Gotta remind ya.”
“I think it’s sweet,” you said. You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your lips. “I love you, too.”
You smiled as Osamu handed you a glass.
“One vodka cran for my princess,” he said, sliding into the booth next to you.
“Thank you,” you said. You took a sip of your drink and made a face. “A little light on the cran.”
“Lightweight,” Osamu teased. He tossed back his glass of whiskey and shivered. “Ugh.”
“Lightweight,” you mocked, elbowing his side. You downed your drink. “Dance with me?”
“Of course, anything my princess wants,” Osamu said. He pulled you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.
Osamu’s hands rested on your hips as you ground against him. It wasn’t long before Osamu was turning you around, pulling you against his body as his hips moved to the beat. Your bodies moved together, grinding and bumping against each other as the two of you felt the rhythm.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to face you.
“Ya look like a goddess,” Osamu breathed in your ear. “Every guy in this club has his eyes on ya.”
You let out a shaky moan as Osamu’s hips dragged against yours.
“Come on,” Osamu mumbled, pulling you through the dancing bodies.
Osamu led you into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. He sat you on the edge of the sink, lips slotting against yours sloppily.
“Samu,” you said, running your hands up his shirt as he pushed your dress up around your waist. “Wanna feel you.”
“Later, princess,” he said, pushing his jeans down just enough to release his cock. “Gotta be in ya.”
He tugged your panties to the side and pressed the head of his cock flush against your entrance.
“I love ya,” he said, pecking your lips before pushing into you. You let out a high moan as he stretched you.
“Gen-gentle,” you stuttered. “Still sore from earlier.”
“Oh, princess, I got ya,” Osamu said, tip kissing your cervix. He held you tightly against him as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly as you rested your head against his chest.
“Love ya so much, jus’ wanna fill ya with my babies,” Osamu said. You moaned, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him in deeper.
“Love you,” you moaned, kissing his neck. Osamu reached between you and rubbed your clit slowly, in time with his thrusts.
“Not gonna last,” he groaned. The fingers on your clit sped up. “Cream around my cock, princess.”
Your hands clenched in Osamu’s shirt as your stomach tightens. Your thighs trembled as you moaned in his ear.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu groaned. His cock twitched as your walls clamped around him. You came with a soft moan, burying your face in his neck as Osamu filled you with cum.
“Samu,” you whined as he pulled out. A mix of yours and his cum slowly leaked out of your stretched hole.
“Hold on,” Osamu said, kneeling in front of you. He tossed your legs over his shoulders and licked a bold stripe up your cum coated folds.
“Osamu!” You exclaimed, legs twitching as his tongue licked deep into your hole. You moaned as he ate you out like a man starved, slurping up cum and spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to lick deeper.
“Taste so good with my cum leakin’ outta ya,” Osamu moaned. He stood up and kissed you, pushing cum into your waiting mouth. You moaned and swallowed instinctively.
You hummed and kissed him again. “Mmm, thank you,” you mumbled against his lips.
“Come on, I’m about ready to get ya outta that dress,” Osamu said, lifting you off the sink. Your legs shook as you stood up, and Osamu wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady.
“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling at him.
“Baby, no,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in your bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back down against his chest.
“We’re supposed to meet the boys in an hour,” you said, struggling to escape Osamu’s iron grip around you. “I need to shower and get my stuff together.”
“Can’t we just cancel?” Osamu asked, holding you tighter. “Just, I wanna spend the day with ya. We can do whatever ya want.”
“Baby, we still have three free days before my mom gets back,” you said. “Let’s just go play this game and then we can come back home and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
Osamu pouted but let you go.
“Thank you,” you said, crawling over him. You pecked his lips before you rolled out of bed. “Come shower with me?”
Osamu was up immediately, following you to your bathroom.
Your shower lasted longer than it should’ve, thanks to Osamu. As soon as the water hit your body, his lips were glued to your skin, his hands on your waist. Before you knew it, you were pressed against the cool, shower wall as he fucked you from behind.
“We’re gonna be late,” you complained as you got dressed.
“Didn’t hear ya complainin’ when ya were cummin’ ‘round my cock, princess,” Osamu said, kissing your head.
You swatted him away, glaring at him.
“You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, tossing a pair of black spandex shorts in your gym bag.
“I’ll show ya insatiable,” he said, hugging you from behind. His hand slipped down the front of your skirt, teasing the edge of your panties as he sucked on your neck.
“Samu, no,” you said, making no move to push him off. You bucked against his hand as his fingers circled your clit.
“Come on, baby,” Osamu mumbled, lips pressed against your skin. “Let me make ya cum one more time.”
You huffed. “Five minutes, then we’re leaving.”
“More than enough.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you walked onto the court.
“Bokkun!” You exclaimed, smiling widely as he spun you around.
“Y/n-chan!” Hinata exclaimed, hugging you as soon as Bokuto sat you down.
“My favourite niece!” Atsumu shouted, running across the court to greet you. Sakusa followed after him, offering you a casual nod as Atsumu hugged you.
“I might as well not even be here,” Osamu said, crossing his arms.
“Osamu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed, throwing himself at the man. Osamu immediately caught him, and tossed him back on his feet.
“Just a hello would’ve been fine,” Osamu said.
You giggled as he walked over to you, gluing himself to your side.
“Let us go change and we can get started,” you said.
“Locker rooms are that way,” Sakusa said, pointing towards the end of the gym. “Hope you don’t mind using the men’s, the women’s is locked up today.”
“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging. You followed Osamu into the locker rooms and changed quickly.
“Hey,” Osamu called before you could walk out. You turned towards him. “I love ya.” He pecked your lips before following you out of the locker rooms.
“Okay, let’s play!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together.
Hinata whooped loudly as he jogged towards you.
“We’re gonna crush them!” He exclaimed. Bokuto high fived you both as Osamu joined Atsumu and Sakusa.
“Let’s warm up first,” you said, smiling.
You stretched out, rolling your shoulders before getting into position. You set a few balls for both boys before Sakusa called for the game to start.
The game lasted five sets, your team winning three of them. After Hinata scored the last point, Bokuto pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around.
“Aha! Suck it!” You shouted once Bokuto put you down. Atsumu flipped you off, smiling regardless.
“We let you win,” Osamu said, ducking under the net. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.
“Oh, sure,” you said.
“No hugging the enemy!” Atsumu exclaimed. Sakusa slapped him on the back of the head before hugging you quickly.
“You’re good, probably better than Atsumu,” Sakusa said. You smiled widely.
“Thanks,” you said as Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist. Bokuto and Hinata both gave you a look.
“I have something to tell ya,” Osamu said. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “M/n and I are getting a divorce.”
“Finally,” Bokuto groaned. “I couldn’t take her hitting on me every time we saw each other.”
“So, you’re with her daughter now?” Sakusa asked. Your face heated up as Osamu nodded.
“And this isn’t just you trying to get back at her for trying to sleep with us?” Sakusa asked.
“No, I love Y/n,” Osamu said, glancing down at you with a smile.
“And I love you,” you said.
“As sweet as that is, isn’t it a little fast?” Sakusa asked.
“Probably,” you said. “But who cares? My mom’ll probably be remarried by the end of the year.”
“We know the relationship is a little taboo,” Osamu said, “but we just can’t help it.”
“Pay up,” Hinata said, grinning widely as he held his hand out to Bokuto.
“Fuck you,” Bokuto grumbled, handing a bill over to Hinata.
“What exactly did you two bet on?” You asked.
“When you two would get together,” Hinata said. “Bokuto-kun bet it would be the next time you visited.”
“Should’ve known Osamu-kun would move fast,” Bokuto said, hair drooping.
“Atsumu obviously already knew,” Sakusa said. Atsumu smiled widely.
“It’s a twin thing,” he said.
“Shut up, you literally caught us,” you said, shoving the blond twin.
“But it was my twin senses which led me to catching you,” Atsumu said. You rolled your eyes.
“Anyway, lunch?” You asked.
“Baby, you promised,” Osamu groaned as you sat up in bed.
“Promised what?” You asked, stretching your arms out.
“We could spend one of our days in bed,” Osamu said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back down.
“One, I never promised that,” you said. “And two, I need to pee. Then I’ll come right back to bed.”
“Fine,” Osamu said, pouting. He released you from his hold. You hopped up and walked to the bathroom. You showered quickly and brushed your teeth before redressing in your pajamas (Osamu’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers).
“Ya take too long,” Osamu grumbled as you crawled back into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.
“I took ten minutes to shower and wash off, sue me,” you said, rolling your eyes.
Osamu rolled over, pulling you on top of him. “Why wash off when I’m about to make ya dirty again?”
You laughed. “That was so bad, Samu.”
Osamu pushed your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples with his fingers.
“Samu,” you moaned, running your hands over his broad chest. “Let me.”
Osamu pulled his hands away from your skin as you leaned down. Your plush lips wrapped around his left nipple, your tongue teasing the cool, metal barbell as you pinched his other nipple with your fingers.
“Fuck,” Osamu hissed, lowly. His back arched as your free hand drifted to his half hard dick. You palmed him through his boxers, heart racing as you felt him harden beneath your touch.
You pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting you to Osamu. You pinched his swollen, spit-covered nipple, drawing out a high pitched moan from him as you switched to the other.
“Baby,” Osamu breathed, tugging your hair as you suckled his nipple. You hummed in response. “Feels good.”
You smiled against his skin as you continued to palm him. You pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock. You pulled away, straddling him.
“Wanna watch you,” you said, running your hands over his soft stomach.
“Watch me what, baby?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips.
“Wanna watch you get off,” you said. “Please, Samu, I wanna watch you touch yourself.”
“Why would I do that when yer right here?” He asked, moving your hips so you ground against his cock.
“Please,” you begged. “Please, I wanna know what you look like when you’re getting yourself off. Please, daddy, for me.”
Osamu sighed. “Fine, just for ya, princess.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said, leaning down and kissing him. You moved off of him, watching as he kicked his boxers off.
Osamu wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and let out a shaky breath. He pumped himself once, twice before letting his free hand drift to his puffy nipples.
“Y/n,” he moaned, softly as you leaned back, pushing your hand under the waistband of Osamu’s boxers you were wearing.
“I’m right here, baby,” you said, reaching out with your free hand to touch his shoulder. He relaxed at your touch and pumped his length slowly.
“Doesn’t feel like ya,” Osamu whined as he thumbed his slit. You pressed two fingers against your clit as he gathered precum on his thumb.
“Let me taste,” you said, grabbing his arm. He lifted his hand to your face, letting you suck his thumb into your mouth, licking the precum away.
“Just want ya to touch me,” Osamu said as you hollowed your cheeks around his thumb.
“After you get yourself off,” you said, rubbing your clit in slow circles. Osamu whined as you let out a soft moan.
“Samu,” you moaned, rubbing your clit. “Let me see you.”
Osamu gripped his cock once again. Precum leaked down the side as he slowly pumped himself.
“Baby, take ‘em off,” he said, tugging at the boxers you were wearing. You pushed them down and spread your legs as Osamu watched you dip your fingers into your wet heat.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pinching his nipple and pumping his length faster. His thumb teased the metal barbell as he moaned.
“Samu,” you said, holding your wet fingers up to his face. He groaned at the scent and sucked your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he gently squeezed his balls.
“Please, please, I want you to touch me,” he moaned as you pulled your fingers away. You pushed his hands away and straddled him. His cock slotted neatly in your wet folds as you ground against him. You moaned as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit.
“So fuckin’ wet,” Osamu groaned, intertwining your fingers with his. “Just for me, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Just for you,” you moaned, rolling your hips furiously.
“Let me fuck ya,” he said. “Need to be in yer sweet cunt.”
You shook your head. “Sore from yesterday.”
Osamu’s head fell back with a groan. “And with any luck ya will be sore the rest of yer life.”
“Just- just cockwarming,” you said. Osamu nodded and carefully slid the tip into your wet heat.
“Son ofa bitch,” Osamu swore as your gummy walls clenched around him. He slowly bottomed out as you moaned in his ear.
“Oh,” you moaned as his fat cock stretched and molded your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your forehead against his. “Feels so good.”
“Takin’ my cock so well,” Osamu breathed. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back against the headboard, holding you closely. “Good girl.”
Your walls tightened at his praise. You sighed as you rested against Osamu’s chest.
“I want this forever,” you mumbled.
“My cock?”
“You, dummy,” you said, smiling as you looked up at him. “I want you forever.”
“Ya can’t say shit like that,” Osamu said, rolling his hips. “Makes me wanna flip ya over and put yer ankles over my shoulders.”
“Do it,” you challenged. Osamu groaned as he flipped you over.
“Yer askin’ for it, lil girl,” he said, pushing your knees up to your chest. You moaned as he pulled out, only to snap his hips against your ass.
“Samu!” You exclaimed as he split you open over his cock.
“I love ya, baby,” he grunted, grabbing your ankles. You cried out as he spread your legs out. You fisted the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you.
“L-Love you,” you stuttered. His cock hit every spot in you, without trying. The cool metal that teased your walls only added to the stimulation.
“Want ya to squirt all over my cock, baby,” he said, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as he reached down to slap your clit. You squealed as he slapped it again before rubbing two fingers over it.
“S-Samu!” You cried as he pulled out. He grabbed your ankles with one hand and pushed them up, folding you in half.
“Such a cute, lil pussy,” he cooed, rubbing his fingers down your slit. Your walls fluttered around nothing. “She’s just cryin’ fer me.”
“Samu, please,” you cried. Osamu leaned down and spat directly in your hole before shoving three fingers in you.
“Clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like a whore,” he said. “Ya want my cock, baby?”
“Please, please!” You moaned loudly. “Samu, please, I want your cock in me!”
“Oh?” He asked, pressing the head of his cock against your clenching hole. He ran the head through your folds, pausing to tease your swollen clit and fluttering hole.
“Daddy!” You cried. “Daddy, I want it!”
Osamu pushed forward, shoving his cock in your tight core. You moaned as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix.
“Does my baby feel better with daddy’s cock in her?” Osamu cooed, dropping your legs on his shoulders.
You nodded. “Love daddy’s cock in me,” you moaned.
“I know, baby,” Osamu said. “Ya were made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, princess? Yer just a sweet, lil cocksleeve, meant to take daddy’s cock whenever he wants.”
“‘m jus’ daddy’s cocksleeve,” you moaned. “I was made to take daddy’s cock.”
“Good girl,” Osamu praised, slowly thrusting into you. “Yer gonna be my lil housewife, pregnant with my babies.”
You moaned, unable to speak as Osamu shoved three of his fingers in your mouth.
“Suck,” he ordered. You hollowed your cheeks, tears running down your cheeks as you gagged on his fingers. “Good girl.”
“Wanna be your good, little, housewife,” you moaned as he pulled his fingers away.
“Aw, baby, ya will be,” he said. He reached down to circle your clit. “Cream around my cock, baby.”
“Daddy,” you whined as your stomach tightened. Osamu thrusted into you harder. You cried out as your walls clamped around him, juices gushing.
“There’s my girl,” Osamu said, continuing to thrust into you. You whimpered as his cock twitched inside you.
“Cum in me, daddy, please,” you begged. “Breed me, breed me, I want you to fill me up!”
“Gonna give ya my babies,” he grunted. Osamu moaned loudly as your walls fluttered around him, finally milking an orgasm from him. His balls tightened as he filled you up. Cum dripped down your skin as he fucked you through his orgasm.
“Too much, too much,” you whined as Osamu rubbed your clit.
“Just one more,” he said. You whined as he pulled out. Quickly, before his cum could leak out, he pushed his fingers in you.
“Samu!” You whimpered as his thumb rubbed over your overly sensitive clit.
“Come on,” he grunted, rubbing your clit faster. You moaned loudly.
“Samu, Samu, Samu!” You moaned. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly as he fingered you.
“Cum in my mouth, princess,” he murmured. Your thighs shook as his tongue pressed against your clit.
“Samu!” You exclaimed as you squirted into his open mouth. A mixture of your juices and his cum dripped onto the sheets and down Osamu’s chin.
“That’s my good girl,” Osamu said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“You’re too much,” you huffed, relaxing into the bed. Osamu smiled at you as he laid next to you.
“Breakfast in bed?” He asked. You shook your head.
“We have to clean these sheets,” you said, glancing down at the wet spot below you.
“But then we can get back in bed, right?” Osamu asked.
You smiled and nodded. “After we eat and wash the sheets, sure. And you need a shower, you smell like sex.”
“Join me?” He asked.
“No funny business, Miya Osamu.”
“Omurice and onion soup for one princess,” Osamu said, setting a plate in front of you. You smiled at the cute, panda-shaped omurice.
“Thank you,” you said. Osamu sat next to you with his own plate.
“I was thinking tomorrow we could go visit the Izanagi shrine,” Osamu said, slurping his soup.
“I’ve never been to the Izanagi shrine,” you said.
“It’s dedicated to Izanagi and Izanami,” Osamu said. You nodded.
“Sounds good,” you said. “Izanami is the goddess of creation and death isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Izanagi was her husband. The moon and sun were born from his eyes.”
“That sounds interesting,” you said. “I’ll go.”
You ate in silence, apart from music playing from the tv in the living room.
“Back to bed?” Osamu asked after washing the dishes. You smiled and nodded.
“Back to bed,” you confirmed. Osamu lifted you easily and pecked your lips as he carried you back to bed. The freshly made bed was quickly ruined as Osamu laid you on your back, gently.
He kissed you softly before kissing down your neck. He made quick work of removing your tank top and sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he switched then continued to kiss down your stomach.
“Samu,” you said softly, threading your fingers in his hair.
“Jus’ let me take care of ya,” he breathed, running his fingers down your thighs, pulling your underwear down. You sighed as Osamu kissed up your inner thigh, stopping at your pubic area.
“Such a pretty pussy,” Osamu said, running his finger through your folds. “Gonna make ya cum on my tongue, princess.”
“Samu,” you moaned as he licked broadly up your slit. He moved your legs over his shoulders and wrapped his lips around your clit. He alternated between teasing it with his tongue and sucking at it softly.
“One or two?” Osamu asked.
“Two,” you said.
Osamu slowly pushed two fingers in your opening. Your mouth fell open with a low moan as he scissored you open and tongued at your clit.
“Osamu,” you moaned, tugging his hair. Osamu groaned, vibrating against your clit. “Oh?”
You gave another experimental tug, receiving the same response.
“Ya keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna fuck ya without finishing down here,” Osamu said, pulling away from you. You stared him in the eyes and pulled his hair again.
He moaned then glared up at you. “I wanted to treat ya real nice before I fucked ya again.”
“And I just want you in me,” you said. Osamu crawled up your body, hovering over you as he kissed you deeply.
“What my princess wants, she gets,” Osamu said. He kicked off his boxers and flipped you over so that you were on top.
“Want you in my mouth,” you mumbled, staring down at his hard cock. Your mouth was watering as his cock rested against his lower stomach, head swollen and dark pink, leaking precum.
“What was that, baby?” Osamu asked.
“Wanna suck you off,” you said, looking up at him. You scrambled down the mattress before he could say anything, spreading his legs slightly.
“G’head, baby,” he said, putting his hands behind his head as you placed a kitten lick to the leaking tip. You moaned at the salty taste.
You ran your tongue down his length, stopping to tease his balls. Osamu hissed as you sucked one in your mouth, gently running your tongue around it.
“Fuck, baby,” Osamu said, reaching down to grab your hair. You pulled back and pumped his cock once, twice, three times before taking the tip in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you pumped the rest of his length.
“I know ya can take more than that,” Osamu said. You ignored him as your hand came up to play with his balls.
“Leave me alone,” you said, pulling back. “Just let me make you feel good.”
You took the tip back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly, you took more of his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Tears burned at your eyes as you gagged. Osamu groaned and bucked his hips.
“Good girl,” Osamu groaned, pulling your hair gently. You moaned around him, bobbing your head and wrapping your hand around whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand squeezed his balls lightly.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” Osamu grunted as his balls tightened in your hand. You pulled back.
“Cum in my mouth,” you said. You wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked. Your tongue swirled around, moaning at the taste of his precum.
“Fuck, fuck,” Osamu swore, pushing your head down his length as he came down your throat. You swallowed most of it before crawling up the bed and meeting Osamu with a messy kiss. Spit and cum ran down your chins as your tongues danced together.
“I love you,” you mumbled, as Osamu wiped your chin clean with a discarded shirt before wiping his own.
“I love you, too, baby.”
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mosquitiddies · 2 years
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" I'll love you better "
genre: lee minho x gn!reader, angst, (fluff at the end if you really squint)
extra notes: any feedback is very much appreciated. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoy.
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you watched as your boyfriend, or now ex boyfriend, walked away from you. you felt angry, hurt and confused. very confused. you didn't know whether to run after him or simply go on your own way? in your defense, you hadn't done anything wrong
you pulled out you phone and called the one person who could help you right now.
calling... "JAMIE💕"
"jimin. we broke up." you sobbed into the phone.
"where are you? I'll come pick you up." concern laced your older sister's voice as you heard her keys jingle and her front door slam.
-
and that is how you found yourself, 2 days later, standing on lee minho's doorstep, trying to configure the right words to win him back.
he rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated over your inability to form words. "what is it, park?"
his hostile tone caused you to stumble over your words. "minho, i- i just wanted to-"
"come on, y/n spit it out." he huffed again. this was your first conflict with him and you didn't know what to do or how to act. you didn't know how to fix things.
"no, min. i haven't done anything wrong. I've been faithful, ive given you space, i-i've loved you... even when you were treating me like dirt. AND STILL?" your voice cracked as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "still.. it isn't enough for you?"
"this is breaking my heart y/n. you can't keep pushing me away and coming back whenever you feel like it, trying to make me feel guilty about finally giving up?" he sighed.
"i don't push people aw-" you scoffed but he quickly interrupted.
"y/n, you do! remember when you failed your exams last month? i tried and tried to contact you, to make sure you had eaten. to make sure you were safe! AND YOU IGNORED ME. you left the city for 5 whole days. how do you think i felt? when im showing up at your house, only for your neighbour to tell me she hadn't seen you since a week prior?" you dropped your eyes to the ground, knowing that minho was being generous by only bringing up one of many occasions.
"i never meant to hurt you though min, i just can't-"
"thats the thing y/n. you never mean to do anything but you do it anyway. And you do it time and time again. im tired y/n. all I've ever wanted was for you to trust me, for you to love me-"
"i do love you, minho."
"no y/n. to really love me. to show me that you love me. but it's too late now, so just forget it. just like you forget everything else."
"no, please. please don't do this! I'll love you better. I'll be better! we can't... this- this can't be the end." you leaned against the wall, trembling as you sobbed. you felt as if a bus had mercilessly run you over.
"i'm sorry y/n but you keep hurting me, and that's— that's bullshit. you shouldn't do that to me, you should be loving me, taking care of me. But... you can't, and you never will. So it's over." his heart ached, watching you cry but he genuinely couldn't do this anymore. he was so mentally and physically drained by this relationship. there was nothing more you guys could do to save it. the bus that had run you over had reversed and gone over you three times again, just to make sure you were really feeling the effects of his words.
"i'm sorry too minho. im so so sorry. i wish- i really wish i could be the one for you. i love you more than words could ever tell." you stood up, taking one last look at him. one last look at his messy brown locks that you used to run your fingers through while he laid on your chest. one last look at his beautiful brown eyes, that you would get lost in ever so often. one last glance at his plump pink lips, the ones that you would never kiss again. "so this is it?" you gave him  watery smile.
"maybe we'll be together in another lifetime." he sniffled. " i love you."
"i love you too minnie." you sighed as he placed his hands on your waist, leaning down for one last kiss.
"goodbye, y/n." and that was the last you saw of lee minho, since you had spent the last 3 months cooped up in your small studio apartment, not letting your sister in or any of your friends. why? because thats what you do best. you push people away.
yours and minho's relationship was nowhere near perfect, nowhere near healthy but it was what you thought you needed.
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floralseokjin · 3 years
Text
⤑ made-up love song ix.
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Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire. 
Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…
pairing; kim seokjin x reader   au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, angst, soojung and oc’s mother being the best, minor food mention (not feeling hungry when stressed), hope, the tiniest bit of fluff, a cliffhanger of sorts!  words; 6,161 
Read Seokjin’s chapter ix here
↪︎ chapter index
chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)
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Soojung found you curled up on the sofa a few hours later when she came home from work. You’d tried watching television, hoping the distraction would be successful but your mind just wouldn’t switch off, replaying the day’s earlier events. You didn’t want to think just yet but that’s all your mind could do. Going around and around in circles. Hearing Soojung’s keys in the door you felt a wave of nausea knowing you’d have to talk about it. Not that you didn’t want to confide in your best friend, it was just explaining everything meant that it was all real… 
She stuck her head around the door, sounding momentarily confused. “What are you doing back already? I wasn’t expecting you until la– Y/N?” She caught the look on your face immediately and just like she knew something was up. She rushed over. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Instantly you felt your face crumble, tears blurring your vision. “It’s stupid really,” you insisted, wiping your eyes as she came to join you, a protective arm wrapping around your shoulders. The small action at least made you feel a little better. “I don’t understand why I’m crying.” You hadn’t felt the need to cry until now. Maybe it was because you could always be vulnerable with your best friend. You didn’t need to be strong. She’d seen you at your worst. 
“Did…Did you guys argue?” She sounded unsure, confused as to what could be the issue. 
You sniffed, composing yourself. “No. Not really,” you let out a groan, “oh, god, Soo. It was awful. Seokjin’s ex-wife turned up…” 
You spent the next fifteen minutes telling her what happened, although a lot of it was a blur of raised voices and insults. One thing you knew for certain though, was that you’d never felt so awkward in your entire life. You’d watched your boyfriend arguing with his ex-wife feeling so incredibly out of the loop it was embarrassing. 
You’d never demanded to know every single detail about his marriage – you hadn’t even wanted to know. It wasn’t your business after all, nor did you want Seokjin to relive things he didn’t want to, or dwell on the past. You understood that more than anyone, what with your relationship with Donghae, but he’d openly revealed a lot to you. He’d confided in you, shared some hurtful details of his divorce and in turn you had entrusted him with your own past, your own bad memories… 
There had been many surprises this afternoon, but one certain revelation kept replaying in your head. It was all you could think about. To learn he’d left out something as major as getting cheated on… Having to find out like that… You were still reeling from the bombshell. Why hadn’t he told you? You’d both been through the same thing… Didn’t he trust you enough? You didn’t understand and you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling hurt. 
“You don’t think he’s still in love with her, do you?” Soojung asked hesitantly. 
“No,” you shook your head. Regardless of the mess that were your thoughts right now, you didn’t think that at all. Yes, it was easy to let your doubts take over in the first few moments you’d set eyes on Nana, she was beautiful, although you hadn’t expected anything less, but you knew not to feel paranoid when it came to that. Regardless of today’s shock, you didn’t doubt Seokjin’s feelings for you, and you knew very well he no longer loved his ex-wife. 
“I think he’s just very bitter about everything,” you continued. “Mostly about how infrequently she sees Arin.” 
“Do you think it’s a problem?” 
Shrugging slightly, you didn’t really know what to say. “She’s been seeing her quite often lately. There was last weekend, but it shouldn’t have been that much of an issue.” Seokjin hadn’t been angry over that, or at least he hadn’t let on he was… Maybe he had and had just hid it well. With that thought, you remembered something. “It was just her face… while Seokjin was saying all those things to her. She looked so upset… I’ve never seen him like that.” 
It had been jarring seeing him so angry. He was usually soft-spoken and well-mannered. Even when he was irritated he stayed silent. You understood that he was only human, everyone had emotions, and his had bubbled over today, but it was still surprising. You hadn’t been expecting to be in the middle of a shouting match between him and his ex-wife. 
“But you knew they didn’t get on?” Soojung gently prodded, rubbing your upper back. 
“Yeah.” You swallowed. “Just seeing it in person… I can’t believe he didn’t tell her about us.” 
Your mind was all over the place, unable to concentrate on one issue for long enough. You really had been living in your own little world this entire time. So incredibly happy and blissfully content. It had been so easy to forget that Nana existed when it came to your relationship with Seokjin. To you, she was just Arin’s mom, who she spoke about sometimes, but not very often, in your presence. It was easy to put her to the back of your mind, it was easy not to think of her at all. Why would you? You didn’t even know what she looked like until today. All the photos you’d seen of a younger Seokjin, of Arin as a baby, had never once included her. You knew who she was, knew her name, but that was all. 
So you’d just assumed she knew about you too. You’d assumed Seokjin had told her without needing any confirmation. You’d assumed she’d known that you would be looking after Arin last weekend. You’d assumed she was perfectly fine with it. In reality she had no clue you existed. You were almost certain Seokjin hadn’t done it maliciously, he wasn’t that type of man, but seeing him today, how casually he had brushed off her concerns… As much as it had hurt to be thought of as a stranger, you understood why that was the case. Seokjin hadn’t. As stubborn as always, he refused to see where he had done wrong. 
“That is a bit odd,” Soojung agreed. “And even though she was a bitch to you, I guess I’d be pissed too if I found out the way she had.” 
You snorted softly. Soojung had been ready to fight when she’d first heard the things Nana had said to you, but she knew you were fine, you could handle yourself. “Ugh, it’s all such a mess,” you groaned. “I would’ve never looked after Arin last weekend if I’d known Nana had no clue.” You should have made sure. Why hadn’t you?
“I guess Seokjin had his reasons,” Soo reasoned. “Maybe he knew how his ex would react.” 
“Maybe,” you agreed before sighing. “I don’t know. There’s things he never told me either.” Maybe you were finding out that Seokjin was a very secretive person, who knew… “She cheated on him, Soo.” You were back there again. Soojung hummed in understanding. “Is it silly of me to be upset?” 
“No, it’s valid.” 
“I told him about Donghae,” you whispered. “I really opened up to him and he was so sweet and understanding. Why didn’t he tell me he’d been through the same thing?” No matter how many times you went through it in your head you couldn’t think of an answer. It didn’t make sense. Especially because he’d opened up to you so easily in regard to everything else. What made this so different?
“Maybe he just didn’t want to make it about him,” Soojung offered. 
“I don’t know… Maybe.” You groaned, thinking you were being selfish. He probably had a good reason when he didn’t tell you. There were more pressing issues right now anyway… You knew that, and immediately your head begin to spin again. 
“The whole stepmom thing,” you muttered, “it’s left me a little frazzled.” 
Soojung kept up with your disorderly thoughts expertly. “In what way?” 
You gave a little shrug, voice barely there because you didn’t want to admit it out loud. “It made me question things…”
“I thought you liked where things were heading?” Your best friend couldn’t hide the shock from her voice. 
“I do,” you replied, “or at least, I did.” Where were things actually heading? You didn’t know anymore. “I just wasn’t really thinking.”
“Of what it all meant?” 
You nodded slowly. “I lost myself for a while.” 
In a way, you had been in your own little bubble for these past few months – you, Seokjin and Arin. You’d had the most amazing summer, falling harder and harder for Seokjin and in the process Arin had captured your whole heart. She was such a sweet little girl, humorous and thoughtful, Seokjin and Nana had brought her up well. Your time together had been incomparable, your happiness unmatched, but in the process you’d ignored a few things. 
“So what are you saying?” Soojung asked gently. 
Your throat felt dry. “I’m afraid it’s all moving too fast.” 
It was a lot to take in. You had been together barely four months but here you were thinking about the word stepmom. How scary the word sounded, how scary it felt…
“You want to slow it down?”
“It’s probably too late for that,” you chuckled quietly. You felt your heart squeeze. “Soojung, I think I’m in love with him.” 
It felt almost relieving to confess such a thing, despite your heavy heart over today. Your feelings had been harder and harder to ignore these past couple of weeks, but you’d tried your best, not wanting to rush anything. Right now you were confused and hurt, but one thing was blatantly clear. You loved him. 
“It’s scary,” you whispered, feeling Soo rub your back again, listening silently. “Falling so fast.” Especially after everything you’d been through with Donghae. You were scared. Despite opening up your heart to Seokjin easily, this was different. Things seemed so complicated now, when not six hours ago they had been nothing more than simple. 
“Today was a massive reality check,” you scoffed. “I’ve been spending these past few months playing house with Seokjin and Arin, it was bound to catch up with us sometime.” 
“You liked it though,” your best friend encouraged, voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you so happy… Not since… Well, not even then.” 
“Everything just felt so… perfect,” you agreed. Everything had slotted into place easily. “And natural, and just, nice.” For lack of a better word. Your brain was pulp. 
“Arin obviously felt comfortable enough to call you her stepmom in front of her own mom?” You didn’t even notice Soojung’s change of direction. 
“I don’t know, I think she was just confused. You know what kids are like together. She heard her friend talking about it and they probably got excited.”
“Would you like to be her stepmom?”
You paused then, realising what had just happened. She knew you well, knew what was bothering you, conflicting your mind. You gave her a small smile. “She’s a sweet child, but it’s not that simple right now. It’s not only my decision either.” 
Truthfully you hadn’t thought about it before today, but now it was one of the things at the forefront of your mind. If everything worked out okay then you and Seokjin would only grow more serious. From strength to strength and what did that mean? However, now you knew that Nana wasn’t exactly your biggest fan… You felt fresh frustration, deflated yet again. Today had gone terrible. 
“You’re right,” Soojung agreed, “but it’s something you need to be comfortable with too.” 
That was true. These were things you needed to talk about with Seokjin. Then again, maybe you should’ve talked about them before. You had no clue how he felt regarding the topic, well… not explicitly anyway. 
“Seokjin comparing the both of us made me feel horrendous.” You found yourself admitting. “I’m not trying to be Arin’s mother. I wasn’t even trying to be her stepmother. Not yet. I haven’t thought about it until now. I just… I loved being a part of her life in my own little way.” 
You never wanted to replace Nana. You hated thinking like this, but what if Seokjin had been looking for that the whole time? A new mother for his daughter… You were almost positive that wasn’t the case, but you were so drained right now, your mind was all over the place. You kept replaying in your head what he had shouted at Nana over and over again. 
“He can’t expect you to take on that role, not when she already has a mother,” Soojung said carefully. “But you can be there for Arin in other ways – in similar ways. You’ve been teaching and caring for kids for years, so I hope you’re not undermining your capabilities.” 
You smiled then, grateful, leaning on her shoulder. “Thank you.” You definitely weren’t doing that but being a teacher and a mother were two totally different things. Especially when it wasn’t your biological child. 
“Ugh, I’m just exhausted,” you groaned, laying back against the sofa and shutting your eyes. “My head’s a mess.” You didn’t want to talk about it any longer, switching off sounded really good right now and Soojung understood that perfectly. 
She tapped your arm. “I’m going to cancel my plans with Tae.” You opened your eyes, mouth open ready to fight. “He’ll be fine.” She insisted. “Me and you are gonna get takeout and ice cream and just stop thinking. We’re going to pull the One Tree Hill boxset out and pretend we’re still in high school.” 
You weren’t going to lie, that did sound like fun. It was also foolproof. You’d been doing it since you were seventeen, when Soojung had got dumped for the first time. “Great idea.” 
She leaned in for a hug. “You told him you need space to think, so that’s what you’re going to do. But not tonight. No rush.” 
As she pulled back you took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I love you.” 
“And I love you,” she grinned. “Now, let me grab my phone.”  
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You woke up early the next morning, like really early, 5am, which wasn’t ideal seeing as you’d struggled to get to sleep the night before. Your mind and heart felt heavy, but you forced yourself to get up and shower because there was no point trying to fall back to sleep for an hour. You had school, and that meant you had to try your best to look presentable for the kids – and happy. A bunch of 6-7 year olds were scarily talented at reading an adult’s mood you’d come to find out. 
You didn’t eat much of your breakfast, which wasn’t a surprise because when you were stressed or sad you never felt practically hungry anyway, and left for work long before Soojung even had a chance to wake up, thinking your classroom so early in the morning might give you some sense of clarity. Either that or stop the buzzing of your thoughts that couldn’t seem to keep away. The change of scenery would hopefully do you some good.   
You were at your desk trying to organise your planner for the week ahead, 7:04am, when your cell phone began buzzing. You looked across at the device, face up a few inches away from you and felt your stomach squeeze. Filling the screen was a picture of Seokjin and you at an amusement park he’d dragged you to over the summer, like the big kid he was at heart. Seeing his smiley face made your heart hurt. You thought about leaving it ring, you could pretend you were busy and let him leave a message, but no matter how much you wanted to do it, you couldn’t. 
The phone felt heavy in your hand as you picked up. Your voice didn’t sound like yours. “Hello.” 
“Y/N,” he breathed, sounding somewhat relieved. You had taken a while to make your decision. “Are you free to talk?”
He sounded tired and unlike his usual self, and a part of you wanted to rush over and talk to him in person, to check in on him and see how he was doing, because as much as yesterday hadn’t been nice for you, it hadn’t been too great for him either… However, you knew that was a bad idea, you’d said you had needed time. A few hours wasn’t that. 
“Um, yeah,” you replied, opening your mouth again to remind him about what you’d said yesterday, but already he was rushing forward, eager to say his piece. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, I guess… I guess I needed time too.” He sounded hesitant, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had never been expected (nor wanting) a phone call. “Do you want to meet up for lunch?”
Your voice was gentle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea today.” Maybe he’d misunderstood you, you needed longer, besides, things weren’t going to get sorted out in under an hour during your lunch break from work. It wasn’t as simple as that – you wished it was. 
There was a pause his side, then – “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”
“Seokjin, I’m not mad,” you sighed softly. “I’m just…” What were you? Frustrated more than anything. It was hard to explain. In a way you felt sorry for him, but you also felt sorry for Nana. “I have a lot of questions that I don’t think I’m ready to ask just yet.” 
His voice was careful as he asked you, “When do you think you will be ready?”
“I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. “I need time to think and it’s pretty hard when I have work all week.” Neglecting your job was foolish – impossible to think of, actually. 
“I understand.” Of course he did. He was nothing but understanding when it came to you and your relationship together. That’s the Seokjin you knew and adored… the one you loved… 
“Is Arin okay?” You found yourself asking. You knew you should probably say your goodbyes, but you’d woken up feeling terribly guilty that you’d just upped and left her like that yesterday. “I’m sorry I ran off without saying goodbye to her.” 
“She’s doing okay, I tried telling…” He trailed off suddenly, and you guessed he thought he was overstepping the mark. The mark you’d put in place. “She asked where you went, I said something came up.” 
“Oh.” You’d thought about popping your head around the door and saying goodbye yesterday but just couldn’t do it. You hated to think she’d thought you had left her too. “I really am sorry about that.”  
“Y/N, it’s fine. Please never be sorry,” he murmured softly. 
You smiled sadly at his sentiment. “Are you okay?” You shouldn’t really ask, not when you needed to hang up and take that space you both needed, but you couldn’t help yourself. It felt wrong not to check in. 
“Could be better,” he chuckled slightly. You appreciated his honesty. “You?” 
“The same.” There was no point pretending. “I think some space will do us good. Let’s just think about everything and then we can talk.” 
“Okay,” he agreed simply. There wasn’t much else he could say. If he disagreed in any way you knew he would never tell you. He wanted to respect your wishes. 
“I’ll call you towards the end of the week?” You could get through the work week, have some time to yourself in the evenings and then meet up on Saturday. 
“Yeah, that sounds good. I agree.” Yet, he sounded a little dejected. 
“Okay.” You had to leave it at that. “I gotta go,” you told him, even though you were in no rush to leave for work, already in your classroom. 
“Of course, bye, Y/N.” You heard some background noise and then a familiar voice in the background – Misook. As it was for you, life went on. Arin had to get ready for school, he had to get ready for work… You couldn’t both wallow in self-pity all day. “Take care,” he told you. It sounded awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say. 
“Bye, Seokjin.” You felt just the same. Even right at the beginning your phone conversations had never been this wooden. 
You hung up first, and then there was silence, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall opposite. You watched the red second hand move, feeling as if it was mocking you.
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The week was slow. It was an average one, but it dragged by. On Monday you had to sit through the usual chitchat inside the teacher’s lounge during lunch, catching up on everyone’s weekends. When Eunbi asked how yours had gone you’d breezed past it, expertly changing the subject to her weekend visiting Jungkook’s parents. Other than that, there was really no need for Seokjin to come up in conversation, which you were thankful for. You spent the rest of the week busy with the children, staying behind a lot later than usual just because it was easier inside your classroom. 
At home you found yourself missing Seokjin like crazy. Ever since your first date you’d been in regular contact throughout the week, and then when things had gotten serious, you’d spoken to him every day – even if it was just on the phone in the evenings once school started back. For all contact to be gone was strange. You hated it, felt as if a part of you was missing. But you knew it needed to be done. As the days went (dragged) by you no longer felt overwhelmed by Sunday’s events. The shock had worn off and you had time to dissect it all, whether it be over dinner on your own when Soo was working late, or when you were in bed for the night, waiting to drop off. The more you broke it down the easier it was to place things in different categories. All the things that had shocked you, the things that had hurt you, and then finally, the things that had made you feel guilty. 
On Thursday night you promised your mom you’d have dinner with her. Jonathon was abroad visiting his children and she hadn’t been able to get time off work to join him. She was bored at home all alone, so you really couldn’t say no despite a part of you wanting to. Before you arrived you’d made the decision not to tell her about your…what could you call it? It was hardly an argument with Seokjin. A disagreement..? Whatever it was, you didn’t want to worry her. After all this time she was over the moon you’d finally met someone you really cared about and you knew it was stupid, but you didn’t want to make her worry.  
However, that all went out the window as soon as she opened the door to you. She was your mom for crying out loud, who could you confide in if it wasn’t her? She listened to you attentively. All your thoughts, all your worries – even if the potatoes were at risk of cremating, and it felt good to have your mother by your side. 
“Seokjin is a lovely man, anyone can see that, but he’s allowed his flaws. He’s only human,” she reasoned, your conversation coming back to the way he’d acted around Nana. You knew your mother was right, and you were in no way judging him for it, but it had been very jarring seeing him change so suddenly. “Obviously he and his ex-wife bring out the worst in each other. Sounds to me as if they’re so used to hurting one another it’s become the norm.” 
You nodded in silent agreement, thinking back to them hurling abuse at one another as if it was the most natural thing. In a way it had turned into a competition. Who could hurt one other the most. In the end, Seokjin had dealt the final blow. You. You could still see the hurt on Nana’s face now, even though it was days ago. It made your chest heavy all over again. You told your mom just as much. 
“There’s no need to feel so guilty, love,” she told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Seokjin, whether it was intentionally or unintentionally, used you as a way to hurt Nana, and you need to tell him that you’re not okay with that.” 
That was the part that had hurt the most now that you’d had enough time to think. Above all else, not telling Nana about you, the catalyst that led to his divorce, it was being used as some kind of weapon that stuck out. You had never wanted that. You had never asked for it. 
“You are his girlfriend first and foremost.” Your mom continued. “Yes, you care for Arin but these things need to be spoken about first. You have never wanted to be, nor felt like you were the child’s mother. You know your boundaries and so should he.” 
She was correct. You’d been so hesitant not to overstep the mark these past few months. You’d even been in two minds whether or not to offer to babysit Arin that weekend. You’d thought Seokjin understood that, your cautiousness when it came to the role you played in her life. After all, your relationship was still new, and Nana was very much a part of Arin’s life. However he had disregarded that all to throw a few cheap shots. 
Your conversation shifted to Arin then. It was easy to sympathise with her, after all you’d been in her shoes once. Parents who seemed to fight more than they did talk. It had gotten better for you though, their relationship turning amiable once the divorce had settled. For Arin, it seemed to be only getting worse. You wished you could talk some sense into Seokjin. He might’ve thought that Arin was okay with her parents barely having any contact but you knew that wasn’t the case. It had been very telling to hear that Arin never brought Seokjin up in conversation with her own mother. That’s why it had taken Nana so long to find out about you. Deep down that little girl knew that her mom didn’t want to hear her dad’s name, and that was heart breaking. 
Somewhere along the way, your mom asked you what you thought about Arin calling you her stepmother. Despite it being done innocently, the weight of the word meant so much more to the adults in the situation and you agreed. It had been strange to hear, and not just because it had come from Nana’s mouth. You were serious about Seokjin and could see a future with him, and that meant being in Arin’s life permanently. That word wasn’t so farfetched and you’d had plenty of time to think about it this week. What it meant for you, Arin, and of course Nana. 
“How did you feel when dad first met Dahae?” You asked your mom. These things had never really come up in conversation before, which was surprising, but right now you needed any advice and insight you could get. Your mom had been in Nana’s shoes once after all. All those years ago. 
“I was…happy for him,” she replied hesitantly. “It took time. It’s a confusing thing. I no longer loved your father but it felt strange to see him with someone else. Of course, everyone is different. Not one relationship is the same,” she added. 
You nodded in understanding. Your father had met Dahae, his wife, when you were twelve. You had grown up with her and it didn’t feel odd to think of her as a second mom. You still called her by her name but when in conversation with others you often referred to her as your stepmom. Always had, for as long as you could remember. Maybe it was after the wedding, but you couldn’t be too sure. Definitely before she gave birth to your siblings though. 
It was different with Jonathon. He’d always been “your mother’s husband” and not because you didn’t care for him or think he was a lovely man. He was, and you liked him very much, it was just… You were an adult when you met him, twenty to be exact, living across the country for college. The bond wasn’t quite there like it was with Dahae, but your mom understood that – so did Jonathon. But it made you pause and think. You’d never asked your mom how she felt hearing you call Dahae your stepmother. It had never crossed your mind until now. 
“I didn’t like the idea at first, I have to admit, but who would?” She confessed. “It’s hard not to feel hurt or threatened, a whole load of different emotions,” she gave a small shrug, “but meeting Dahae, and seeing how kind a woman she was, and how much you meant to her made me see things differently.” 
You smiled, silently hoping that one Nana would think and feel the same way when it came to you. You could only cross your fingers and try your best in the meantime. 
Your mom nudged you, a playful lilt to her voice. “I think you’re very lucky to have two wonderful women in your life that love you and want the best for you – and yes, that’s a brag on my part.” 
You laughed with her, but your worries were getting the best of you again, turning you sombre. “What if Nana never accepts me though?” 
“I think you should only think about that if it happens,” she replied. “There’s no point expecting the worst right now.” 
You still didn’t feel very hopeful though, it was probably written all over your face. Sweeping some hair out of your eyes, your mother’s voice was soft. “Love, she had no idea you existed, I think her anger was warranted.” A pause, tone changing. “Although, not at you. I’m not very happy about that.” 
You chuckled at that. “It’s fine. You know I can look after myself.” You were feisty when you wanted to be, or scrappy as Seokjin had so comically put it once. 
Wrapping an arm around you once more, she squeezed you gently. “Talk to him.” She urged. “You miss him. This time apart is getting pointless, you already know how you feel.” 
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You did. Your feelings were as strong as ever. 
You had been itching to pick up the phone last night and just call him already, but you’d said Saturday. You only had one day left at work, you could hold out until then. It would be better that way, you didn’t want to interrupt a potentially busy day. Friday’s were often crazy for him, you didn’t want to be a distraction. 
However, come morning break you bumped into Hoseok coming out of your classroom, eager to rush to your car and grab the apple that must have rolled out of your bag and onto the seat. (Hopefully – if it was on the floor it was going in the trash ASAP). 
“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He politely asked. 
“Fine, thank you.” Talking with Hoseok always came easily, regardless of his position as the principal. “Glad it’s the weekend tomorrow. How about you?” 
“My thoughts exactly,” he laughed, before adding, “Although, I hear Arin’s started hers early.” 
“Oh?” You were immediately lost. Had you missed something? You hadn’t seen Arin at school all week, which wasn’t strange. Your paths rarely crossed these days unless you were on yard duty, and if you were being honest, you were glad it hadn’t been this week. She must have had an inkling something was wrong right now, she hadn’t seen you at all since Sunday, so you were relieved to know you didn’t have to answer any awkward questions. It was selfish, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. 
Hoseok looked confused by your reaction, but carried on regardless, shaking it off. “Seokjin called up yesterday, said she’d be visiting her mom earlier this weekend if it was possible. I figured maybe you and he had plans for tonight.” 
You froze, forcing yourself to reply because your boss was waiting for one. “Oh, no.” You swallowed, coming up blank. “No plans.” 
If Hoseok noticed your woodenness he didn’t let on. “One day couldn’t possibly hurt her education, right? But don’t tell the board I said that,” he added with a laugh. 
You made yourself join in, although your mind was racing. “Secret’s safe with me.” 
He smiled at you, giving you a nod. “Enjoy your weekend, alright? See you Monday.” 
Thank God he had somewhere to be. You nodded back, watching him already begin to walk away. “And you, Hoseok.” 
You proceeded to sit in your car for twenty minutes, half eaten apple already turning brown as you racked your brain. It wasn’t Nana’s weekend to have Arin. Was something wrong? You were probably being silly, conjuring up the worst case scenarios for no reason. If something had happened, Seokjin would have contacted you. He knew he could always count on you, but… You had told him you needed space and he’d agreed. He was a man of his word, so if something had happened, what if he thought he couldn’t call you?
You pulled your phone out of your bag at the thought, clicking on his contact but stopped yourself when you saw the time. You had just under five minutes to be back at class… I’m being irrational, you told yourself. If something was wrong he would have informed Hoseok, and the principal sounded absolutely fine. You were worrying for no reason. If something had happened, something bad, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to you. You knew that, and so did he. Only a few more hours and you’d get to talk to him. Most of those involved sleep. You could wait until tomorrow morning. You could. 
.
.
You couldn’t. 
It was half 9 and you were home alone. It was Soojung and Taehyung’s date night and she was spending the night at his place, so all you had for company were your own thoughts – and RJ, the alpaca plush Seokjin had won for all those months previous. You couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow, your mom was right, what was the point in waiting when you knew how you felt. You wanted to see Seokjin, to talk to him and feel him. You missed him like crazy. 
Turning the television down low you grabbed for your phone which had slipped in between the sofa cushions. This time you didn’t hesitate, no work commitments calling your name, and dialled Seokjin’s number straight away. He picked up after only two rings. 
 “Y/N,” he breathed, sounding more than surprised. 
“Hey, you,” you smiled into the receiver. It felt good to hear his voice again. 
“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.” 
“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 
“Of course not. Well,” he paused to laugh, “I was just about to head to bed.” 
He sounded a lot like his usual self tonight, it eased your mind. You laughed along softly, a confession slipping past your lips. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.” 
You heard a sigh of relief his end. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.” The longing in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.” 
“I’m ready,” you nodded. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.” 
“I can come to you?” He suggested instead. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.” 
“Oh.” You thought to ask him how come, but stopped yourself, you could get to that in person. He didn’t sound upset, which you took as a good sign. “Okay. Now?” 
“It’s not too late?” He checked. 
“No, it’s fine.” You were eager, shaking you head as you replied, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “I really want to see you.” 
You could hear his smile too. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” You heard his footsteps along the floor, the sound of a drawer opening as if he was finding something to wear. 
“Don’t speed,” you added, as a joke more than anything. 
“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.” 
“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.” It was silly, but you didn’t want the phone call to end even though in under half an hour he’d be here. 
But you could be patient. 
You could. 
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Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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hopelesshunny · 3 years
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the love languages part ii: physical touch (f.w.)
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred has always felt the need to touch y/n and after a drunken night he realizes he can't sleep without her.
warnings: very, very light profanity, drinking/underage drinking, kissing, bed sharing.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: my second instalment is here - i did in fact say i would wait until monday but i was really excited to write this one!! i am so grateful for all the love i have received on this series so far, i cannot thank you guys enough. i still feel like i have a ways to go in improving my writing - but as always my ask is open if you have comments, questions, concerns, luv or just wanna chat:)
*all photos are from pinterest*
series masterlist // part i // part iii // part iv
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For as long as Y/N had known Fred he had always been touchy. Fred’s need to constantly touch her was never unwelcomed, she relished in the way he’d wrap an arm around her shoulders when he’d walk her to class or how he’d lean into her when he laughed uncontrollably. However, she had always assumed that he was like this with everyone he was friends with, that he just needed to touch people in some way in order to feel close to them. This was very true but Y/N never knew that it was her touch that he craved the most, that as soon as he saw her, he longed to feel the soft skin of her cheek, the way her shoulders shook when she laughed or the rise and fall of her chest while he laid on her stomach in the common room, gentle sighs leaving her mouth every so often.
Fred couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times he almost told Y/N his feelings for her, the words sat on his tongue so often that he was starting to believe that they felt more comfortable in his mouth which is why they never launched themselves into the air. He didn’t know why he couldn’t force the confession out, there was always just a cloud of doubt and fear that swarmed his mind whenever the thought presented itself. But alas, here he was sitting across from her watching her flip her hair over her shoulder and let out a light laugh as she found whatever George was saying quite amusing.
“Y/N! You have to come, you literally can’t miss a party like this!” George practically shouted, a shocked look on his face.
“I’m so behind on my studies.” Y/N started, resting her chin on her hands. “I’ll be practically chained to the library all weekend as is, I can’t go to a party.”
“Y-You’re not coming tonight?” Fred questioned, his eyes hopeful as if he had heard the conversation wrong.
“Sorry Freddie.” She pouted. “You can tell me all about it at breakfast tomorrow.” At that Fred reached across the table to run his finger across her knuckles, relishing in the way her skin felt under his calloused fingertip, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to how they would feel against his lips. However, he was pulled out of his daydream by the sound of George making gagging noises to the side of him as Y/N giggled.
“In that case I’ll have to drink a little extra.” He threw a wink her way. “To make sure I don’t bore you back to sleep tomorrow morning.”
“You never bore me, Trouble.” She smiled before saying her goodbyes to the rest of the table and making her way to the library. The nickname brought a gentle smile to his face, it was the first thing she’d ever called him. During her first year Y/N had been studying in the common room when the twins busteled in, laughing and hollering about another successful prank. When she asked what they were so excited about, the two boys were more than happy to explain, Fred wildly acting out the look on Snape’s face before George asked her name and introduced himself in response. Before Fred even had the chance to open his mouth to follow suit she stopped him.
“You sound like trouble, that’s what I’ll call you.”
George laughed at his twins new-found nickname but it made Fred’s heart swell - the fact that she had specifically given him a special name, the smile on her face when she said it and the way she never left their side since that day, produced a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Now, here he was, years later, with the same girl, same nickname, same smile and the same butterflies.
Fred kept his promise to Y/N, he was drunk, very, very drunk. He stumbled through the Gryffindor common room, his feet feeling like they were trying to carry him off in different directions until he finally found an armchair to ground himself with. Plopping himself down into the chair he looked out into the crowd of people, some laughing others whispering, couples hanging off each other, it made him miss Y/N. If she was here she’d be sitting next to him, his arm slung around her shoulder as she giggled over the way he slurred his words and she’d always made sure he got to bed safely before finding her way to her own room. Fred groaned as George sat in the chair across from him, pushing a glass of water towards him, causing his twin to chuckle at his annoyed state.
“At least you’ll have something funny to tell Y/N in the morning.” He laughed. “Tell her all about how your drunk ass could barely walk straight.” Fred leaned his head back on his neck.
“I should go see her.” He spoke quietly, just loud enough to convince himself of the idea but hopefully not loud enough for George to hear. He knew that his drunken state failed him however, when his brother quirked an eyebrow at him.
“And do what? Spill your guts?” George chuckled. “Either by finally telling her you’re bloody in love with her or literally?” This earned another groan from Fred as he shot daggers at him.
“That’s it.” Fred started, chugging the glass of water that was placed in front of him. “I’m going.”
“Best of luck mate.” George spoke as he watched Fred stumble his way through the crowd.
“Where’s he going?” Ron asked, suddenly appearing by his brother's side.
“On a death mission.” George responded.
Fred let out a sigh of relief when he finally made his way out of the common room and began the trek towards her dorm room. But his mind was running rampant, what if George was right? What if he was just better off going to bed? Maybe she wouldn’t want to see him, she was probably tired from studying all night and the last thing she wanted was him keeping her up. But despite his doubts his feet still carried him towards her, the walk was sobering, which he would need if he planned on getting a coherent sentence out when he finally made his way to her.
“Y/N?” He called softly when he opened her room door, trying his very best to keep quiet to not wake her roommates. He recognized her frame immediately, bundled under bed sheets, her hair messy and lips slightly parted. He stood over her, watching the way her chest rose and fell as soft breathes left her mouth. “Y/N.” He spoke again, shoving his hands in his pockets, fearing her reaction to his sudden visit. Her eyes shot open but when they found his, her face softened, a small smile forming.
“You scared me, Trouble.” She laughed lightly. “Are you okay?” She asked, the concern that laced her voice made him have to restrain from kissing every square inch of her face.
“I’m okay, just a little drunk.” He hiccuped, his response earning a bright smile from her as she scooted to the side and patted the bed, signially for him to sit next to her. He graciously accepted her offer, his hand immediately finding her knee, needing to touch her. She leaned into his touch as he slurred on about how Ron tried to flirt with Hermione but failed miserably and how red Harry turned when George dared him to kiss Ginny. Neither of them could remember falling asleep, they were too caught up in each other's whispered stories and soft giggles.
When Fred woke the next morning, his head pounding, his legs feeling as if they had carried him across the entire country, he looked down to find his best friend fast asleep on his chest. Y/N’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle with his hand tangled in her hair as she shifted slightly on top of him. He felt like he should panic and apologize for last night’s antics but she looked so peaceful and he was so close to her that he couldn’t bring himself to worry about barging into her room at who knows what time.
“Mornin’ Trouble.” She spoke, her voice groggy and flooded with sleep. “How are you feeling?” She asked genuinely, pulling herself from his embrace to stretch her arms above her head, making him curse himself for ever moving and waking her.
“I’ve been much better.” He groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Guess I don’t have to fill you in on last night's events at breakfast anymore.”
“No, you did a sufficient job of that last night.” She giggled. “But we can still go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Y/N pulled him out of her bed, still fully clothed in what he was wearing the night before.
He grumbled his way through breakfast as George and Ron cracked jokes about how drunk and lovesick he was, Fred throwing warning looks their way as Y/N laughed seeming unbothered by the way they were pulling her into they’re jokes, taking it all as a way to poke fun at Fred. But his head was still swimming, the feeling of her weight on top of him and her hands pressed against his chest, all he wanted was to be back in that position again. He couldn’t get it out of his head for the rest of the day and no matter how many times he attempted to distract himself from her that night as he lied in bed his mind kept travelling back to Y/N. He lay awake staring at the ceiling thinking about how empty his arms felt without her in them - she was addicting, he had always known that, since the moment he met her he had not been able to pull himself away from her. But now he was in too deep, he needed to be there with her.
So, here he was, in his pyjamas, on his way to her dorm room once again, all shame and guilt left long behind, just needing to be near her. Fred padded into her room, his hands rooted in his pockets once again, fully expecting to have to wake her just as he did the night before. But she was wide awake, sitting on her bed, a novel clasped in her fingers, a smile forming on her face when he came into her line of vision.
“Did you miss me?” She teased, as he ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels.
“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled. “Was wondering if you were still up.” He said, offering her a grin.
“Well then Trouble, you’re in luck.” She smirked, moving to allow space for him to lie next to her. Fred laid his head in her lap as she turned her attention back to the book in her hand while the other snaked its way into his hair. All the trouble sleeping that had been previously plaguing him melted away with her nails lightly scratching his scalp.
Over the course of the next week Fred and Y/N fell into this routine, he would lay away in his bed before eventually giving into the knowledge that he could not sleep without her any longer before he would make his way to her room, crawl into bed beside her and fall into the soundest sleep that has ever graced him. In the beginning, he was apprehensive, worried that she would reject him at some point and tell him that she wanted to sleep alone. But she never did, every night she shot him a warm smile and opened her arms to him. As the week went on his worries morphed themselves into something new however, he was no longer concerned about her rejecting his company but that she would instead reject his feelings for her. That she would eventually realize that he was in love with her and tell him that she never felt that way about him and was just trying to be a good friend.
“I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.” Fred spoke into the darkness of the room, his voice audibly shaking, the silence that filled the space causing his stomach to turn.
“Mhmm.” Y/N started, tightening her grasp on him. “I can’t complain, you’re a great pillow.” He let out a light laugh, rubbing small circles in her back.
“It’s true.” He spoke, more seriously. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all lately, but as soon as I get into your bed, I’m out.” She sighed. “They must have better beds in the girls dorms.” He added, which earned a giggle from her.
“I don’t know about the quality of the beds, maybe it’s who's in it.” She spoke, her voice quiet as she bit her lip now regretting her sudden burst of confidence. Fred was silent for a moment before he spoke, a deep breath filling his lungs before he had the nerve to confess to her.
“I always thought that the reason I always had to touch you was because I liked to feel close to people. But it’s different with you.” He shifted to look at her. “I need to touch you, need to feel your skin. Fuck Y/N, I just want to hold your hand in front of everybody and kiss you in between classes and fall asleep next to you every night.” He searched her face looking for any sense of emotion but all he could find was her typical soft smile. “It’s just that I-I-” He started.
“I love you too Fred.” She cut him off, placing her palm against his cheek, he turned into her touch despite the shock that was lacing his features.
“You what?” He said, a giggle falling from her mouth as she clasped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to save him some pride.
“The first night you came to my room, after you left the party, you kept saying you loved me in your sleep.” He groaned at her confession. “I was worried it was just drunk babbles but-”
“But I do love you.” He finished. “I’ve loved you for years.”
“I love you too, Trouble.” She giggled, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.
taglist (join here!!)
@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449 @youngblood199456 @thanxxskz
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burnedbyshoto · 3 years
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good little omega
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— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.
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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au
word count: 6,174
a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????
kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist
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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 
“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”
Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.
Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.
As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.
‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’
‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’
‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’
Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.
At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.
Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.
The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.
So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.
He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.
But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.
The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.
All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:
AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)
Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.
You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.
You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.
But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 
Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.
“Goodluck!”
“Thank you!”
.
..
.
Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.
“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you��re going to get away without giving me an answer.”
The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.
“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”
“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”
The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 
“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 
“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”
Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 
“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”
“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”
“UGH!”
Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 
“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”
“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”
Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”
“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.
Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 
Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”
Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 
“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 
“Who else is showing up?”
Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.
“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“Of course not, my liege.”
.
..
.
The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!
“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”
“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”
The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.
Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.
You had done it.
You had won.
Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.
Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?
Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.
Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 
No… please not… not after all of this had happened.
.
..
.
You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.
You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 
You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 
“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 
The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 
Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.
“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”
The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.
Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.
You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.
“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”
This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?
The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 
Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 
Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.
Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 
A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 
Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.
“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”
“75 million!” someone started the bidding.
You stiffened.
“75 to the man in the back!”
“90 million!” someone challenged.
“We’re up to 90!”
“125 million!”
“Do I hear another offer?”
“250 million!”
“250 million!”
The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 
“950 million!”
If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 
“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”
“Five billion.”
The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 
“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 
“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”
The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.
“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”
“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.
He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.
“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”
“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 
“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”
You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.
“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”
“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”
Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”
“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”
“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.
You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”
Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.
“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”
And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.
The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.
“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”
You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 
“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.
“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.
“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”
Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.
You craved him.
“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”
With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.
Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.
Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 
“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”
Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.
Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.
“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”
“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 
The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 
The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.
Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.
A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.
You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.
“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”
“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”
“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”
Your agent doesn’t get another word in.
You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.
You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!
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devilsodas · 3 years
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night hawks iii
words: 2.1k
pairing: Hayakawa Aki x reader, Denji & reader
Also on: ao3
a/n: very, very, light spoilers for the bomb girl arc, if you haven't read it you probably wouldn’t even notice so it’s fine lol. anyways, I originally didn’t plan to do this for this chapter, (it was actually supposed to be just pure angst) but I thought this would be nice before I stomped on ur heart! next update might be  for a while since school is coming to a close soon!
part ii | part iv
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if there is something in the town that the country can’t offer.
You don’t want to think too hard on that, either.
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ii. blue shift
You’re perusing through the snack aisle, debating which awfully sugary and salty potato chip you’d force Aki to buy this time, when Denji ambles towards you.
“Town mouse or country mouse.”
You grab a boldly colored bag of chips--‘taste better with each bite!’ in a fluorescent lemon --and shake it twice. Too light for your liking, you grabbed two more. “What are you talking about?”
“D’you think the town mouse or country mouse is better?” Denji questions, studying your movements before shuffling the items in his palms into the basket hanging off your elbow. He looks at the row of chips, grabs two random bags, and shoves them in as well.
Brows scrunched in confusion, you halt in your movements. “Mmm..is that a new fad from some teen magazine? I never heard of that before.”
“Nah, it’s this guy named Asshop? Acehop? I dunno.” The syllables slur together when he says it, rushed, and you can hardly decipher the words. “But there’s these mice, one’s from the country, the other the town.”
“The country mouse is safe and all, but it has zero fun or good grub. The town mouse gets all the fun and grub, but it's always getting into trouble.”
“And you have to pick between the two?” You confirm. Denji nods, hands shoved in his pockets.
You tilt your head, “Lemme guess, you picked the town mouse?”
He grins. “Who wouldn’t want good food?”
Chuckling, You fight the urge to ruffle his blonde strands. From what Aki’s told you, Denji’s virtually been close to homeless for the past sixteen years of his life. No family but a dog he refers to from time to time.
Sometimes, when you’d come over for dinner, you’d see the way he eats; scarfing down every grain of rice and almost licking the plate clean, a man eating his last meal, that your whole body would ache, starting from your chest and spreading all over.
Everyone should have that at his age, right? Loving parents, no worries if you’ll have warm food on the table or a roof over your head ( but did you even have that? If you didn’t would you even know? How could you feel pity for the youth if you don’t know what youth looks like? )
You try not to think about it too often.
The options milled about in your head, like marbles in the palm of your hand.
“Being safe sounds great and all, but I’ve never been to the countryside before, so..” Denji nabs another bag and shows you for approval. Wasabi and Beef. You give a disgruntled face and he tosses it back with a huff.
“So the town mouse then?”
“I’d say yes, but that’d be a little biased. I’ve never been outside Tokyo.”
A groan sounds from behind you and, across the aisle, is Aki juggling ten different types of meat in his arms, his face matching the red of the marbled pork. Power is right behind him, shoving an unnecessarily large slab of wagyu beef into the cart with maniacal laughter.
( I’m saying this for the last. damn. time.-)
You should probably intervene before he grows homicidal.
“Why are you interested in this anyway?” You ask. Denji huffs, fidgeting with a red bag of shrimp chips (now with garlic and butter!) and haphazardly tosses it into the basket.
“There’s this girl,” He starts.
“Oooh, a girl..”You drawl.
He sputters.“I don’t like her or anything!”
Grinning, you bite your lip to hold back a laugh, “Never said you did.” You think he looks a little irritated, with his cheeks flushed a deep rose and a scowl framing his face, but the same mischievous smile stays on his lips.
“Anyways, she was the one who told me about it, I was wonderin’ what you would’ve said. We’re supposed to go to a festival tomorrow night.” He states lightly.
“Ah, if they have it, you should eat some takoyaki while you’re there. That always tastes the best from a festival stall.” You beam. “Be sure to have fun! Oh--and tell me about it once you get back.” For any devil hunter, it’s difficult to hold connections to those outside the business. You wonder how it must feel for Denji, sixteen and not knowing a single person his age who’s, well,
Normal.
The only times he goes out is for work or rare days like these when Aki (foolishly) thinks they’ll behave at the supermarket. Does Denji even know what’s normal for someone like him? Do you?
He gives you a thumbs up.
( in the corner of your eyes, you spot Power with at least fifty different types of cat food in her arms, marching to an oblivious Aki with a tyrannical smile on her lips.
it’s probably time to leave anyways..)
You sift through the basket hanging on your arm, double checking the junk food will last until the next time you decide to mooch off Aki’s credit card. A variety of bagged chips with different mascots thrown across the bags, pints of icecream and mochi, and at the very bottom, a magazine with...two naked women on the front. You snatch the offending book with a gasp, thrusting it into the blonde’s face.
“No way, you know for a fact he’s not gonna buy this. And if you hand him this at the counter, Aki will punch the crap out of you.”
Denji grabs both the basket and the magazine, rolling the book before slotting it under his arm. “ Not if you but it.”
“I’m not buying that.”
“Then I’ll just sneak it in.” He waves off. At the sound of shouting, you both run to deescalate whatever nonsense Power got herself into this time. The magazine and Aesop forgotten.
( Aki does notice the porno mag and he does hit Denji over the head with it...but he buys it anyway.)
-
“Town mouse or country mouse?”
He scowls at you through the mirror, muttering. “God, not you too.”
You swing your legs from where you reside on the kitchen counter, tapping your nails against the marble, anything to ease the nervous energy that makes your hand shake. Nyanko is slinking through your legs like a maze, begging for your pets every so often. You bring the cat into your arms, scratching the spot right behind her ears and she purrs, bingo. You raise a brow. “Did Denji already ask you?”
He doesn’t answer for a few moments, busy as he loops his tie and knots it. Aki takes a moment to scrutinize its placement, then turns to face you. “Angel Devil.” He states, he says the name like it’s poison on his tongue.
“Oh yeah, how’s that working out for you?”
“He’s a hindrance.”
You stroll over to him until you’re both chest to chest and he stills. This close, you can feel his exhales drift the hairs at the top of your head and discern the specks of jade that’s always consumed by his seas of deep blue. He notices your stare, and swallows.
You take the tie into your hands and tilt it a little to the left. “You think everyone is a hindrance when you meet them. I’m pretty sure you loathed me at first, but now look! I get to babysit your cat!” Nyanko meows on cue and you turn back to him with a wide grin.
Aki stares for a moment, taking in the both of you before groaning into his palms and striding into his room.
“That’s not my cat.” He calls out.
“You still haven’t answered my question!”
He groans again.
“Why do you need to leave so suddenly anyways, it’s Friday night, we should be done for the week.”
“Nomo called for me!” He shouts. The name doesn’t ring a bell.
“Great, now answer my question.”
He trails back into the hallway, coat in hand. Nyanko follows his footsteps, meowing after him.
Not his cat, huh?
“What’d you say?”
You roll your eyes, exasperated, “I said: answer my question!”
“No-- to Denji.”
Oh. You shrug, “I didn’t give him an answer. I’ve only seen the city, so I don’t think I could’ve given an accurate reply.” You say nonchalantly.
“It’s not really about where you’ve been--it mostly deals with preference.” Aki hums and shrugs on his coat.
“Yeah, but,” You finger at the stray hem of your sweatshirt, skittish, “well, I don’t know much from before I was like, what? Fifteen, sixteen? Even then things are kind of fuzzy..”
The hand he had on the doorknob stills, and Aki gapes at you, silent. You don’t know if you should continue your thought, unsure if this is information you want to give away to him, but his silence eggs you on. “ But I wouldn’t really know what I would prefer, since I don’t know alot about..me. Maybe I hated the city, but I’m still here--Or I hated the countryside which is why I live in Tokyo, but I’ll never truly know the original intent..I’m just here. Who’s to say the things I do now are things I would’ve done before I forgot everything”
The words come out muddled and jumbled together, and with the way he’s staring, you wish you could shove them all back into your mouth, never to come out again. You know that he knows that you worry about this from time to time, but the thought of being this vulnerable to anyone, even the person you know better than yourself, shakes you differently than any devil ever has. You wonder if you’re acting selfishly, to bare this out to him, because it always looks like it hurts Aki more than it hurts you.
You don’t like to think too hard on that either.
“That’s why I wanted to ask you,” you rush out. “I thought you’d have a better idea..”
Aki abandons the door altogether, standing before you in the kitchen. His eyes are glassy but the rest of his face is set in stone, unsure. “Does that even matter?”
You frown.“What?”
“I mean, if you enjoy yourself here, isn’t that good enough? Does it really matter what you thought , or who you were, five, ten, years ago? I like who you are now, I’m not that worried about who you might have been before.” He says, voice just above a whisper.
You blink, mind blank. You can feel the blood rush in your ears, roaring, as he searches your face.
I like who you are now
You think you should say something back, something just as momentous to ease the furrow in his brow, the same heat to your neck,but all that comes out is a measly, “Oh.”
Aki looks into you with the same eyes he had back at the diner and all at once you’re unsure of where he’s going with this. What you should do. What lines to cross. Your fingers flinch at your side. In the corner of your vision, his fingers do the same.
But then he blinks and it’s gone. You don’t know if you should sigh out of relief or disappointment.
You pointedly decide to hold your breath.
“And for the record,” He starts, hand on the door, “I chose the town mouse.”
The door clicks just as silently as it was opened.
Nyanko meows out to you, pawing just below the cabinet that holds her dinner and you breathe out a sigh.
“What would you prefer to eat, town mouse or country mouse?”
She hisses.
You should probably feed her before Power accuses you of animal abuse.
-
Later into the night, with the cat now fed and sleeping, you’re perusing the bookshelf when a small children’s book stands out to you.
The rest on the shelf are novels of varying lengths, so it sticks out like a sore thumb and, out of curiosity, you grab it.
The binding that holds it together is frayed and aged, the fabric of the book singed and faded. The cover is almost completely black, with the exception of a smiling rat on the corner.It’s a miracle it’s even in one piece.
You flip through it, an array of colors flickering on each page until it lands on the last one. It’s covered in blue crayon in a child’s chicken scratch, but at the very top of the page it reads:
‘Which mouse has it better?’
Town: Me, Dad
Country: Mom, Aki
‘And for the record, I chose the town mouse.’
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wonder if there is something in the town that the country can’t offer.
You don’t want to think too hard on that, either.
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css1992 · 3 years
Text
Guilty Pleasure
Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 
Read on AO3
Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue
-x-
Living with Ned and MJ was both a dream come true and a bit of a nightmare.
A dream, because when they were kids, they always talked about how they would all go the same college and live together one day, and Peter would finally have a real home – and a real family, he used to think to himself,  in secret.
A nightmare, because he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his friends, and that was the worst kind of feeling to have for the people who opened their arms and their home for him when he needed the most. Still, he couldn’t avoid it and he felt awful for that. They were both attending NYU; Ned was majoring in Computer Science and MJ in Journalism. All according to the plans they made in high school.
When Peter was younger, he made plans, too. He wanted to study Biochemistry, his teachers used to say he could probably get a scholarship to a good college, he was smart enough. Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, even offered to write letters of recommendation for him. Instead, Peter’s life choices led him to his current predicament: a 20 year-old porn actor, selling dirty pictures for a living, crashing on his friends’ couch, not a single dollar in his wallet.
He was definitely not getting any awards for good decision making, that was for sure.
He had been staying with Ned and MJ for a week when he was finally able to set up his Just4Fans account. He knew that had to be a temporary thing, it couldn’t last, even if he wanted it to. He wouldn’t be young forever, let alone a “pretty twink”, as his subscribers loved to call him. He had maybe three or four years left of that hype, at most, then he would be too old for that, and/or people would start getting bored of him. So he had to be smart, the plan was to save up as much as he could while he thought about what he was going to do once the fountain of youth dried up, and the clock was ticking fast.
But for the time being, porn.
Good thing he had his own Instagram account with a few thousand followers. All the other social media accounts were under Beck’s name, and those had hundreds of thousands of followers, but Peter no longer had access to them – he checked. He also checked and noticed that Beck hadn’t announced that they had split up yet, his last post dated from five days earlier, when he released their last video together – two days after kicking him out of the house, the asshole.
So Peter posted a few Instagram stories explaining to his followers that he and Beck weren’t a thing anymore – he didn’t give many details, he didn’t want any drama, specially not with Beck – and that he had set up a Just4Fans account for the time being. In minutes, his Instagram blew up. Apparently, people were either heartbroken over their breakup; relieved he “got rid of that perv!”; or devastated they wouldn’t get to see them doing porn together anymore.
He got a hundred subscribers in just a few hours, which was incredible. The subscription fee was ten dollars a month, so even after the website’s cut plus tax deduction, it still was a good start. He wondered what kind of money Beck made with their videos, because they had thousands of subscribers on their channel.
Once he got the hang of the site, he tried to post at least two sets of pictures a day – which was challenging at that moment, because the apartment was tiny and he didn’t have any outfits or toys with him, they were all at Beck’s. He made plans that as soon as he got the subscription money in around fifteen days, he would try to buy a few things and take tons of pictures to last a few weeks.  
He also made sure to answer people’s messages every single day, which often earned him a little more money in tips. It was shocking how many people were willing to tip him just because he answered them. Some other people asked for extra content, like specific pictures, videos or even voice notes, which he sent via “pay-per-view messages”.
In the end, he felt like he was prostituting himself. Again.
He would never judge a person for earning their living in any way necessary, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, he just never thought that would be him. Never ever. As a kid, he thought he’d be an astronaut. Growing up, he wanted to be a physicist. As a teen, he made plans to study Biochemistry. And somehow he ended up selling his body online, one way or another.
He didn’t dwell on that for long, he focused on the fact that it was temporary. If he managed to retain at least some of the people that had subscribed to his account for two or three years, then he would be able to start a small business of some kind in the future. Maybe he could go back to school. Twenty-three wasn’t too old for college, right?
Right.
It was two weeks later when he got a weird message. Not a weird message, actually, a weird tip. Someone under the username of YKWIM had sent him ten thousand dollars for no reason, there was no prior conversation, nor did the person ask for anything in return. Peter was sure there must have been a mistake, maybe they had typed in some extra zeros or maybe they had sent it to the wrong person, so he decided to reach out.
“Hey. I think there must’ve been some sort of mistake with your last tip. Lol.”
He left his phone on the counter and got started on dinner. He was a terrible cook, but to be fair, they all were, so it was fine. Ned and MJ were both at work, but they would be home soon and they were having a quiet night in. Those few weeks at their place had been good for Peter, it felt nice not to be alone after what happened, but at the same time, he was starting to feel like he really needed his own space. He was already looking for an apartment to move into as soon as he got the money. He was hoping to get one in the same building or at least close by, so that they could still see each other often.
His cell phone beeped as he sliced some onions and he stopped to check.
“Hey, gorgeous. There’s been no mistake, it’s correct.” Peter was taken aback by the answer, so he checked again to see how much the person had tipped him, and sure enough, there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. American dollars.
“Oh. Wow, that was very, very generous of you. Is there any particular content that you’d like to see from me as a thank you? I could send you exclusive pics and videos, whatever you want.” Inwardly, he was thinking that no amount of pictures or videos from him would ever be worth ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, holy fuck.
“That would be excellent.”
“Great. What would you like to see?”
Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird… Usually, Peter’s subscribers liked to see him in cute outfits or with cute toys, but some people liked very messed up stuff. He usually said no, but that person had just sent him ten thousand dollars. Fuck, that was so much money, it would cover rent for at least a few months.
“I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve put out so far, baby, so surprise me. I’m sure I’m gonna like whatever you send.”
God, generous and reasonable? Had Peter died and gone to porn heaven?
“You flatter me.” He typed in quickly, leaving the sauce unattended for a few seconds. “Give me a few hours to work on it, I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Take your time, but I don’t think you could disappoint me if you tried.”
Peter felt so stupid when he blushed and giggled to himself, because that was exactly how Beck lured him in when he was seventeen, with charming, easy words. He was an adult now, for Christ’s sake, and he didn’t even know who he was talking to. To be fair, it was probably a woman. For some weird reason, according to his Just4Fans statistics, a surprisingly large percentage of his subscribers were middle-aged, cisgender, heterosexual women. Peter supposed those were the ones who used to follow his “love story” with Beck – most of them hadn’t got over them yet, apparently they were “the perfect couple! So cute!”.
He couldn’t blame them, they sold them the perfect love story. And for a time, it was true. Peter really thought Beck was it for him, the love of his life, his soulmate. He didn’t know at which point it all became an act to Beck – or if maybe it had always been an act.
He sighed, shaking his head, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about him, so he focused on what he should send YKWIM.
As he finished making dinner, he tried to come up with ideas. They said they loved everything Peter had posted so far – he had posted thirty pictures and five short clips over the past two weeks. The pictures were all in MJ’s bedroom – she offered –, most of them in her bed. There were only a few pictures in which he was completely naked, in the others he had some sort of underwear on –  lingerie or tight briefs.
So, he decided he should do something similar, but different enough that YKWIM would feel somewhat special. He had a few good ideas, but they would have to wait for the next morning, he would need good lighting and privacy.
“Hey, nerd, what’s up,” He almost burned his fingers when he heard MJ’s voice, and realized he had spaced out for a minute there. He shook his head quickly and smiled at her.
“Nothing, how was you day?”
The next morning, once Ned went to visit his family and MJ left for work, Peter started working on the pictures. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell his friends about YKWIM, just like he didn’t want to tell them about Beck when they first met, three years earlier. And if he really was as smart as his teachers used to say, he would have seen the pattern. But as it was, he just focused on the fact that YKWIM was probably a woman living on the other side of the world, who just liked to get off to pictures of pretty boys in lingerie.
But.
For the sake of getting in the mood for the pictures, he imagined YKWIM was a guy. Not too tall, but taller than him. He imagined he had a beard, but not a full one, like Beck’s, no, perfectly trimmed, scratchy, in a good way. He’d have dark, warm eyes, not blue and cold. He’d be older, older than Beck, more mature than him. A real man. Maybe he’d have a few streaks of gray amidst his otherwise dark hair.  
He’d be gentle, despite Peter’s past. He’d treat him like he was the first one to ever touch him, even if he knew that was far from the truth. He would be careful, mindful of his pleasure. He’d start off slowly, kissing along his collarbones, fingers brushing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, just shy of where Peter wanted him to touch, as his mouth traveled down his chest; hot, moist breath leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach.
He sighed. Yeah, that would do to put him in the mood.
He put on a white t-shirt that was just long enough to graze the tops of his thighs, and a simple, plain black thong. He decided to take the pictures in the shower – the classic wet, white t-shirt, he couldn’t really go wrong with that. He positioned the camera on top of the bathroom sink, set the timer, and started posing.
First, he rested his back against the wall, one hand pulling the t-shirt down to cover the front his underwear, eyes staring directly at the camera lens as water ran down his face, neck and chest, making his nipples stiffen, becoming visible under the wet shirt.  
Next, he pressed his chest to the wall, looking at the camera from over his shoulder, lips parted, just a peek of his exposed ass cheeks showing where the t-shirt ended, but by then it was so wet it was mostly see-through.
Then he turned so his side was facing the camera and stuck his head directly under the stream of water, running his hands through his hair, back arched obscenely, eyes closed. He let his hands travel all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, hearing the familiar “click” as the camera took several pictures.
He turned around again, placed his hands on the wall and lifted his t-shirt just over his lower back, sticking his ass out, showing off his provocative underwear.
He got out of the shower and turned the camera into filming mode, then got back under the water and also shot a short clip of he sensually and slowly taking the thong off, but in a way that the viewer couldn’t really see the skin that was revealed. He pulled the wet t-shirt down so it covered everything, but by then it was so see-through that it left nothing to the imagination. Peter twirled a little, then threw an innocent, shy smile at the camera.
That should do it.
He finished his shower, put the wet clothes in the washer, then went to edit the pictures. He didn’t do much, just adjusted the light and contrast, then cut them into squares, because he though it looked classier or whatever. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of that thought, as he attached the photos and the video to a direct message to YKWIM.
“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint. Let me know if you’d like something different.”
He cringed re-reading the message, he thought he sounded desperate and insecure about himself and he supposed that wasn’t very attractive, so he decided to change it just a little.
“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint.” And he finished off with a hot face emoji, because why not.
He sent the message and went on with his day. Ned and MJ were both back for lunch and since none of them felt like cooking – and they all sucked at it anyway –, they ordered something to eat in front of the TV, as they binge-watched the first seasons of The Office.
“Oh, hey, Pete, I almost forgot, I talked to our landlord earlier and he said there’s an apartment on the fifth floor that should be vacated by the end of the month, if you’re interested,” Ned told him around a mouthful of pizza and Peter’s head snapped up.
“I’m definitely interested!”
“Cool, I’ll talk to him for you, I’m sure I can get you a good deal on rent.” He winked, and Peter smiled, feeling hopeful.
Things were getting better. Slowly, yes, but they were. He was spending time with his friends – who he had neglected for the past two years–; he had a good amount of money to withdraw in the next few days, that could get him going for a while; he was still doing porn, yes, but at least he was in control of the whole thing, including his own body, which was nice; and he only cried for Beck every other night instead of every single night, so he had that going for him.
All in all, things were looking up.
Ned and MJ convinced him to go out for a bit in the afternoon, they said he had been cooped up in the apartment for three weeks and should breathe in some fresh air, and since it was the first somewhat warm day of March, they decided to go jog at Central Park in the afternoon. They didn’t really jog, but they walked around some and Peter must admit that it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his skin for a change.
They were lying on the grass, resting for a bit, when they saw a blur of red and gold fly overhead. People started cheering and clapping and Peter smiled when MJ groaned, because he knew exactly what she was going to say.
“How can people cheer for that guy, he’s an egocentric, misogynistic, elitist, disgusting asshole.”  He laughed to himself, because he knew what came next.
“He’s a genius, he changed the world multiple times and he even saved it at least twice. I think he’s pretty cool,” Ned argued without any heat and Peter could hear MJ rolling her eyes.
Peter didn’t love or hate Tony Stark or Iron Man, like most people, he just – didn’t pay him any mind. Sure, when he was a kid, he was obsessed with him, he was New York’s first superhero after  Captain America, who was still in the ice when Stark announced he was Iron Man. But as he grew older, he had other concerns in mind other than who was the coolest Avenger, so he kind of forgot they existed, except for when there was some crazy alien threat looming over New York City – which was, like, a biannual thing since they found out aliens existed back in 2012.
The fact that Iron Man was flying over Central Park on a Saturday afternoon was a little alarming though. From what Peter knew, Stark was mostly retired since around 2016, he only ever “avenged” when there was a big threat, like the near-end-of-the-world they had back in 2018.
“Do you think we’re under attack?” Peter asked and Ned shook his head calmly.
“Nah, I think he must be late for something. I read an interview recently and he said he uses the suit sometimes when he needs to get some place fast.”
Seemed like overkill, but who was Peter to judge, he would probably do the same if had a suit like that.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park and then headed home for the night. MJ turned in early, she said she was beat from a busy week, and Peter and Ned stayed up until a little later, re-watching Star Wars movies. It was close to 2AM when Ned said his goodnight and Peter went to check his Just4Fans, because he hadn’t answered any messages all day long.
There were quite a few, but he did notice there was one missing. YKWIM hadn’t answered him yet and Peter immediately felt like a failure. They probably hated the pictures, they must have thought “ugh, ten thousand dollars for that?”. Peter should have photoshopped them. He could have made himself look at least a little bit better, if only–
Before he could hate on himself too much, YKWIM messaged him, like they could read minds. Peter quickly opened their chat, still a little worried about their reaction to the pictures.
“Damn, baby! You have no fucking idea what those did to me. Fuck! Can I show you? Please?”
Peter was oddly relieved to read that, and was endeared by the fact that they actually asked before sending a dick pic. Or a clit pic? Was that a thing?
“Of course, gorgeous, I’d love to see it.”
Within seconds, they sent a video in the chat. Peter was a little surprised by that, but pressed play anyway, and almost fell off the couch when he did.
It was a thirteen seconds video. He could see the man’s midriff, all the way down to the tops of his thighs. His belly was toned and spattered with dark hair that led down to perfectly trimmed pubes that framed the most beautiful cock Peter had ever seen. There was no other way to put it.
It was long and thick, but not so much so that it would hurt – Peter knew better –, it stood proudly between his thighs, attached to a heavy set of balls that made his mouth water. He was jacking it mercilessly, Peter could only hear him grunting quietly before his balls recoiled and he came, covering his stomach in thick, pearly white come. Peter whimpered, pressing down on his hard-on, and almost cried when the video was over.
“Fuck, daddy, that was so fucking hot.” It was probably the first time ever that he actually meant that answering a DM from a subscriber.
“That was the third time today, baby, I have been thinking about those pics from the minute you sent them. Spent the whole day with blue balls, even after coming twice.”
Fuck.
“Wish I could have helped you with that.”
“Who knows, honey, maybe someday.”
Yeah, Peter thought, biting his pillow on the couch so he wouldn’t be heard when he came embarrassingly hard in his pajamas pants, face burning with shame. Maybe someday.
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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years
Text
THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part VI/VII)
"the downfall"
Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst mostly
Tags:
Suggested by: @crispykittywitch
Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadows @missmulti @accioweaslcy @andreaareynoso @georgeweasley16 @dianarte @skarlettmikaelson
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality
Warnings: language, allusions to sex
A/N: my apologies for keeping y'all waiting for this one darlings, but here comes the next part YAYY! Enjoy <3
Prologue: the aftermath
Part I: sleepless nights
Part II: candy floss
Part III: shock therapy
Part IV: wrong name
Part V: the perfect excuse
Part VII: apart
Epilogue: I still love you
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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He had left me in the room that morning, alone, with regret and guilt straining my chest, with embarrassment and panic heaving over me, my only company being a terrible headache and a sore body.
I was still waiting for him to come back. Of course, he still lived in the apartment, but the day after, he slept at Shell Cottage because Bill needed help with the chores, and the next night at the Burrow because Molly had asked to keep an eye on 'the kids' —the kids being Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione— while she and Arthur were off to visit Andromeda, and at Lee's because Angelina was away and they were going to have a boys' weekend; in summary, he managed to avoid stepping into the flat while I was in there for an entire week.
I would be lying if I said the idea of moving out hadn't crossed my mind, but I knew I was being dramatic— we were being dramatic; we were adults, even if we forgot about it more often than not, and adults talk things out, so I decided to confront him at the only place I would manage to corner him; the shop.
When I descended from the office on the second floor, I spotted the ginger turning the 'CLOSED' to face the glass door. "Oi!" His head snapped to me as I climbed downstairs and he instantly walked to the shelves on the opposite side. "Can I have a word?" I requested, following him, only for George to move on to another shelf.
"Right now I'm quite busy." He replied, seemingly absent-minded as he pretended to check the products in front of him.
"This is important." I insisted, moving to stand besides him.
Not fast enough, though, because he was off to yet another part of the shop as soon as I got close. "I'm sure it can wait."
"You know it can't," I assured intently, stalking after him, only for him to speed up his own pace, moving from product to product without stopping too long in front of him. "George I'm- Oi, stop! We need to talk about this!"
"Well maybe I don't wanna talk about this!" He exclaimed, taking big steps under one of the stairs in order to shamelessly dodge the hand with which I had reached out to stop him.
"George Weasley don't run away from me!"
"I'm not running away from you!"
"You're literally RUNNING AWAY!"
He stopped circling the counter and stood across from me, slamming his palms over the till. "ALRIGHT, LOVE!" for the first time, I didn't like the way the name dripped off his tongue. "Let's talk about how we accidentally FUCKED! That's what you want so badly, isn't it?!" Flush crept up his neck and ears, and I couldn't tell if it was from anger or from timidness. "Go on, darling, lead the bloody way!"
I felt my own cheeks going red, partly because of his straightforward statement but also because I genuinely had never heard George raise his voice like he had just done.
"Cat's got your tongue now?!" My stuttering seemed to fuel his anger more. "C'mon, Y/n, talk! You wanted to talk!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP, GEORGE!" He clenched his jaw as his freckles drowned in a sea of pinkish red. "Yeah I want to talk! 'Cause that's what grown-ups do! We don't know how to act around each other so we just don't spend time together anymore— Fuck, I've barely seen you! AND WE. LIVE. TOGETHER!" I emphasised each word with stomps. "We can either pretend it didn't happen or talk it out to make sure we're on the same page, you choose but for Merlin's sake, don't avoid me!"
"OKAY!" His eyes widened, surprised at his own tone, and then he repeated in a softer, self-conscious one, "Okay." He breathed deeply and then added. "We're on the same page, right?" His eyebrows raised as he looked into my eyes. "It was... A mistake."
I should have noticed the uncertainty and hope in his voice, but I panicked and was too quick to respond, "Yeah! A massive mistake." My words stung my heart and, to my dismay, his own just as much. "Can we go back to being friends? Because I'm going crazy without you." I blamed our watery eyes to the argument we had had, and not to the fact that it had been a mistake.
He circled the counter and walked to me, hesitating before pulling me into a hug. "Can I...?" I tugged him closer, wrapping my arms around his middle. It took a moment for him to ease into my embrace, and I could tell we had fucked up our friendship for good. "It's alright, we'll make it right again." His words made me squeeze him tighter, as if he was about to vanish from my side.
And from then, we tried to make it right, we tried so hard, because it seemed so easy to make it wrong again.
Everytime we stood too close, everytime he leaned on to whisper something, everytime I helped him with his tie, our eyes would fall on each other's lips; I would sometimes drift off the conversation, staring too much at his mouth and hands, wandering if they would feel just as amazing as they had done while we were drunk.
"Y/n are you listening?"
"Uh yeah- I mean, no- sorry, what?"
I was so focused on trying to hide it that I didn't notice George was in the exact same situation, meaning that neither of us could give in, because we would go down together. In all honesty, it was doomed to happen at some point, we were just delaying the inevitable.
The moment came the last night of January, when George showed up in my room due to a really rough nightmare, and I, as always, invited him in so we could lay down together.
"Isn't this... Weird?" He murmured as we scooted closer. We had kept physical contact at bay for obvious reasons, and cuddling had been off the table since New Year.
"It doesn't have to be." I replied, my voice as quiet as his. "We've done this a thousand times."
"Right." He cleared his throat, averting his eyes from mines as we shifted in our places ever so slightly, trying to find a position where the situation turned less awkward.
And it happened, my mind got lost on the way his neck tensed, on the damp locks hanging over his forehead, sweaty due to the nightmare; on his plump lips, which he had just wetted with his tongue in the most subtle way. It was a nervous habit of him, something he would usually do, but that didn't make it any less hot.
"George..." I called his name without noticing, my heart hammering violently against my chest when his gaze landed on my eyes, quickly falling on my lips.
The next thing I knew was that he was holding my thigh over his hip, his other hand on the back of my neck while we shared a hungry kiss that, as soon as my hips involuntarily rocked against his, turned into something more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
GEORGE'S P. O. V.
The next morning we swore to each other that it was just another accident, that it would happen again.
And the next one too.
And the following.
The fifth time that happened, we agreed to call the situation a 'friends with benefits' kind of thing, well aware that it was an euphemism for the downfall of our friendship.
I had longed to be hers for so long, and it that moment, as I lay by her side in her bed, that wish seemed so close yet so far; I could reach out and my fingertips would touch her skin, yet I had never felt that distant towards her.
The moment my eyes were averted from her form, her gaze was laid on me. "You don't have to go."
"I know." I replied in a mumble, already sitting up and reaching for my pants. "But soon we'll have to get up, so I might as well do that and let you sleep." I didn't want to turn around, I didn't want to see her beautiful irises pleading for me to stay by her side, because I knew I would.
I saw on my peripheral vision her fingers attempting to carefully wrap around my wrist, and I was quick to stand up and walk to the door; sadly, I did not miss Y/n burying her face into the pillow, her hands fisting on the fabric ever so subtly.
She tried to hide her tears like that, and I agressively wiped mines as soon as I reached the corridor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Morning, lady!" I light-heartedly greeted Y/n without turning my back to the making of our breakfast when I heard the steps approaching the kitchen.
In the morning it was easier to pretend everything was back to normal; usually, the refreshing sunlight and the drowsiness provided by a night of sleep were enough to wash away the sad truth of our relationship.
"Good morning, sir." She responded with a yawn, rubbing her eyes as she walked to stand besides me, leaning against the counter with her arms folded. "Smells good." She commented, leaning on to take a peek at the scrambled eggs.
I was about to make a cocky, playful comment when it dawned on me what she was wearing; it was my jumper, one of the old ones that I exclusively used for pyjamas.
I knew she didn't do it intently; I had left it on the floor the previous night, and it was probably the first thing she grabbed, but it struck a nerve.
I had seen a similar scene way too many times before; a sleepy, dishevelled Y/n entering the kitchen with an ugly Weasley jumper as only clothing, ready to start the bickering with an almost identical version of me who would be making breakfast.
My head then travelled to the thought that lately crossed my mind more often than not and my heart clenched; In Y/n's eyes, I was, most likely, just a poor replacement for Fred.
"You alright?" That worried furrow appeared between her brows too often lately. We were both walking on eggshells, and it got me on my nerves.
"You don't have to ask if I'm alright every time I'm quiet." I hadn't meant it to come out harsh or curt, but it definitely did.
"You're not quiet, you're overthinking." She responded with a tinge of hostility.
"What's to overthink?" I fought the need to raise my voice.
"Dunno, you tell me." She squinted her eyes with a scrutinising gaze directed to me.
"Can we not do this?" I almost pleaded; heated arguments had become a usual thing between us —yet another sign of the unfixable problem we refused to address.
Y/n was about to reply something that would lead us into a fight when the doorbell rung. "Mister Weasley?" I took that as a cue to go open the door to Verity, already dressed on her uniform. "The Valentine's Day products arrived, should I unpack them or..." Her eyes flickered behind me and her cheeks heated up. "Y/n—" When I looked over my shoulder, I felt my own face flushing out of embarrassment. Y/n was still my employee and Fred's ex, so Verity catching a glimpse of her dressed in my jumper wasn't the best thing for any of us. "I— am I— sorry, am I interrupting?"
"You're not interrupting." I assured her with a reassuring smile. "Leave the boxes on the puking pastries section, we'll be down in ten."
"Alright, sir." Her curious gaze travelled to Y/n one last time, and with that, she was rushing back down to the shop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
READER'S P. O. V.
The ache that had appeared on my chest the day after New Year would end up killing me, or at least it felt like that.
I had a dreadful gut feeling of knowing what caused that pain, but my mind refused to believe it was that, and kept pushing the sensation back into my heart day by day.
George had gone to relocate the puking pastries in the upper level of the shop so I could prepare the section with the Valentine's Day products.
My eyes dawned on the small packages of Amortentia. I knew it was a terrible idea but I needed to know.
I took a look around, making sure Verity wasn't near and George was up still, and brought one of the Amortentias under my nose. It didn't take long for the scents to besot me, and I had to put all my will on not to fall under the potion's spell.
The first smell to reach my nostrils was gunpowder; my heart skipped a bit when the next scent was vanilla.
Then strawberry and chocolate; candy floss cupcakes and George's cologne.
The tiny, heart-shaped bottle fell from my hands, scattering all over the shop's floor. "Shit!" I rapidly kneeled to pick the shattered glass when I realized it had echoed in the empty establishment.
"Oi! What was that?" George descended from the second floor, using the ladder. "Oh shit—" his hands took a hold on my bicep and pulled me away from the pool of pinkish pearl liquid that seemed to be attracting me. "Don't!" He warned Verity, who had attempted to jog in the potion's direction too. "Verity, can you bring me my wand?" The girl complied running up to the office.
In Verity's absence, George took the chance and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head up to check my eyes. "You alright?" I managed to give him a slow nod, my mind buzzing with the newly acquired information. "Getting the Amortentias was a bad idea, wasn't it?" I nodded again, producing a frown between his eyebrows. "No 'told you so'? Are you sure you're alright?" He chuckled nervously, his hands falling to his sides right in time for Verity to rush back to us.
"Here, Mister Weasley!"
"Thank you, darling." He politely replied, taking the wand and restoring the potion bottle in a swift movement. His eyes peeked at me again; I could see the worry growing on him. "Y/n-"
"I'm gonna go wash my face." The words hastily left my mouth before I dashed off to the restroom.
I closed the door behind me and took a look at the mirror; my pupils were blown and my cheeks pink. I ran the tab and splashed the water on my face a few times until the potion's mild effect was gone and my mind clear.
It was in that moment that it dawned on me that I was in love with George Weasley.
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Text
The Art of Inversion
Neil x Reader
Chapter 23 - So Far From Who I Was
Masterlist; Chapter 22
Summary: As plans for operation in Stalsk-12 are underway, you and Neil can’t seem to find a common ground. His selfish plans overturn everything...
Warnings: Even more angst (sorry!!! swear it will be over very soon); swearing; some slightly dubious thoughts appearing in the reader’s minds but it’s nothing too serious.
Author’s Notes: Okay, I’m really sorry for the 10.8k, but it once again shows that I’m incapable of writing short things. This one is a wild ride and it was fun to write even if painful at times... I hope you’ll ‘enjoy’! Let me know how you liked it... and I promise... fun is near :)))
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From that morning, when the precious intel magically appeared for you all to use, the metaphorical dice were cast. The last stage of the plan was officially on, and there was not much time to waste. After two days of chaotic talks, interrupted by training and trying to make sense of living aboard the icebreaker, you were told to meet with everyone else on the bridge for the official confab. Your war council consisted of TP, Neil, Ives, Wheeler, and yourself. And you were the first to admit that you had no clue what your job was supposed to be there. However, ignoring the deepening sleep deprivation, pounding headache, and weariness that has made home in your heart, you made it to the destination with time to spare. That morning the sky over the Barents Sea was overcast with heavy, grey clouds, increasing your internal melancholia and tiredness. Basically, life was hard. And you still contemplated joining the seals. Probably more often than any sane person should. But then you never really considered yourself rational. Sighing, for the umpteenth time this morning, you sat down on the sofa and relished in the solitude. In moments like this, without the oxygen mask making you feel close to suffocation, or the looming danger of losing your control around certain individuals, you were almost at peace. They never lasted long.
“Morning sunshine,” Ives marched into the room with a grin on his face.
He was one of the people you could tolerate. Still.
“Hi,” you cracked a smile of your own in his direction.
He took off the mask and opened up the laptop, preparing for the meeting. After a few minutes of companionable silence, Ives groaned, stretching his limbs exaggeratedly.
“The bloody bunkbeds are a pain in the arse,” you snickered at the comment.
“My condolences,” offering him a mournful expression, you stood up.
Wandering over to the panoramic windows, you took a moment to stare at a seagull diving on the horizon. Well, technically it was springing up from the sea, but you preferred to imagine the traditional way of things. Just to maintain a functioning brain.
“Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Prince Charming looking out for their comfort you know” the casual remark made you look up at Ives.
Sure as hell, he was grinning smugly, satisfied by how he has managed to catch you off guard. But that was not the most outraging bit…
“Prince Charming?” you repeated with a deepening frown, “Spare me please, I’d rather forget he exists” conversation was ruined.
Prince Charming, my ass. Unless those tended to be lying bastards that never knew what they wanted. Or terrifyingly beautiful idiots that should never be trusted. Well… fuck.
“Good luck with that” Ives patted you on the shoulder.
You knew that despite the nonchalance, he was someone you could count on. For a second, you contemplated asking him to punch Neil next time he shows up. However, all train of thought disappeared when the man himself walked into the room the very next minute. That same neutral smile on his face, blocking off any attempts to read his mood. His gaze slipped over you. A shadow of a frown as though your presence was not a pleasant discovery. Just brilliant.
“Good morning” Neil nodded in your direction.
You could see Ives hesitate as though wondering how much could have been overheard. You found that you did not care. Ever since your blunder in the kitchen, you came to a decision that you need not hold back. Neil never did, after all.
“Morning mate” Ives squeezed his shoulder in a greeting.
Before either of you were forced to initiate small talk, TP marched in, with Wheeler following at his heels. With the whole team on board, you could skip the awkwardness and begin. You took your seat on the side of the table and placed the dossier with plans right in front. That way, you could have an easy escape should it be needed. These days you could never know for sure. The first surprise of the meeting took place when you heard a scrape of the chair on your side, followed by someone sitting down. One look was needed to ascertain that it was the blonde bastard. Fab. You refused to give him any satisfaction of being caught staring and so you focused on the documents, reading the same set of instructions for the hundredth time.
“Do you want coffee?” his question took you by surprise.
Looking up into his blue eyes always felt too startling. Especially considering your history. But that did not seem to matter whenever your gazes met. That same jolt of electricity heightening your senses. Until you would look away again, Neil was everything you could focus on. On the periphery of your attention, you could see Wheeler prepare cups of the beverage in the small kitchenette. Right…
“Yes, please,” perplexed by his helpfulness, you gave him the tiniest of smiles.
In response, Neil only nodded and got up, joining Wheeler at the counter. That was surprising. Somehow you assumed that he would do everything not to interact with you like that. And yet he was willing to get you coffee, knowing full well how dependent on it you were. When Neil sat down again five minutes later and handed you the mug, you muttered:
“Thanks” your hands brushed for a millisecond, causing a minor heart palpitation.
Nothing new. He met your gaze again, smiling lightly. It was in the moments like this that you felt completely at a loss for words. The tenderness and attention felt like the old days, as though nothing happened. But it did. And it made no sense.
“Hope I got it right” breaking the silence, Neil gestured towards the coffee steaming underneath your nose.
He used to know your coffee order well. Unable to deny yourself the curiosity, you took a sip of the beverage under his watchful gaze. Of course, it was perfect, a spark igniting your body with energy. Ignoring the idiocy of the situation, you grinned at Neil over the brim of the mug. Conveying gratitude more than any words could. Judging by the glimmer in his eyes, he understood.
“Attention, please,” Ives’s annoyed voice brought you back to reality “You’ll flirt later,” you blushed furiously at the comment.
Shooting daggers at the squad leader, you focused all of the attention on the dossier again. Yeah…no.
The next hour was spent trying to make sense of the plans you all had been weaving since the intel came. The obvious parts were the facts: a deserted city in the middle of the Siberian steppe, the dead-drop in the cavern underneath the ridge, three ways in, and a lock, that was the crux of it all. The instructions from TP were ominous enough: no guaranteed way out for whoever would open the door. And that fact was the needed spark that day…
“So, temporal pincer” Ives summarized the last few minutes of the discussion, writing the words on the whiteboard “One team normal, the other inverted and they deal with the mercs. A splinter unit goes into the dead-drop and extracts the algorithm before the timer goes off” he added.
That was the obvious bit. You finished the coffee in one swig, feeling Neil’s knee bump into yours under the table. It was like this for the past hour. Sudden touches, making you wonder whether it was all intentional. Another form of elaborate torture. Or whether it was just Neil unable to control his long limbs as per usual.
“Kat is the backstop?” you asked the question, distracting yourself from the mess in your head.
“Yep,” jotting down the note, listening in to the squad leader, “That’s the simple stuff. What we need to figure out is how do we deal with that lock, and what about the splinter unit”
Fun. You skipped through the information again, hoping to find any source of inspiration in the materials.
“What do you mean?” TP asked, and you glanced up at him.
With the arms folded on the table and face frozen in a permanent frown, you could feel the tension radiating from him.
“They shouldn’t leave the field” Ives shrugged upon an inquisitive glare from the boss “It’s safer that way” the cold steel look in his eyes was foreign.
It was a terrifying realization that he was right. If you were to succeed, you had to make sure that it could not happen again. At least not in the linear sense. Looking around the people sat at the table, your heart sank. It could as well be that you were not coming out of this alive. Not all of you. TP had to survive if the story was to follow as it should. But for the rest of you, nothing was guaranteed. Enough to make the anxiety worse.
“Right,” TP’s sombre nod made you focus back on the moment “I don’t think we need to decide on who that will be this early,” he added, his gaze slipping over all of your faces.
Looking at the companions, you could see that everyone else was deep in thought. Mortality was never something you paid much attention to, preferring to stay sane by taking every day as it is and then moving onto the next. When you finished the university and started getting used to the idea that your future will be spent behind the desk of one of the governmental buildings in Whitehall, you stopped giving it much thought. Death would come when it had to, and that was it. But apparently not. Perks of choosing an unusual occupation. Feeling the stress levels elevate, you got hold of the passing thought. The damned lock that has been at the forefront of your mind since the news first came. Maybe now was time to voice the vague plans…
“When it comes to the lock… I’ve been thinking-”
“It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Neil’s interruption made you look up at him sharply.
What? You did not like the enigmatic smile gracing his features. As though you have missed something glaringly self-evident, and he was waiting for you to catch up. Impatiently, at that.
“Neil… elaborate please,” TP’s plea was dripping with tiredness.
Relatable.
“I’m the best locksmith out there” he shrugged smugly, ignoring your stare.
You did not like where this was going. Before you could find any words of response, Ives’s dry chuckle pierced the silence.
“Smooth, mate,” he added when Neil turned to stare at him.
“It should be me,” the blonde man pressed, annoyance seeping into his words, “Ives, you know that. Stop looking at me like that” he waved his hand at the squad leader.
The pieces clicked in your head. Fuck. He sounded too sure. As though he has already made up his mind. But…
“The person who opens the lock doesn’t have a guaranteed way out” Wheeler looked weary, as though she was scared about the direction of the conversation.
Exactly. The heart was hammering in your chest, slowly absorbing the reality. Figuring out the implications. No. You could not allow that. Even the mere idea was enough to make you nauseous. It was one thing to wish you did not have to deal with Neil, the other to consider that he would volunteer for something like that.
“So?” the nonchalance in his voice was terrifying.
He was still refusing to meet your gaze, but you persistently kept your eyes fixed on him. Urging him to give in. To be able to check this was actually happening. Because once Neil would lock his eyes with yours, you had a chance of getting to him. Until he said it to your face, you did not want to believe it.
“That could be a one-way trip,” TP voiced your thoughts, eyeing Neil warily.
You could see that he was surprised and concerned. Ever since they were stuck in the container for a week, a comradery has formed. Finally resembling what you were used to from them. But now Neil was willing to destroy it all. One-way trip. The ultimate sacrifice. No.
“Evidently,” another shrug.
That was the needed signal for your brain to kick back into action. To fight. Point out the insanity of the situation.
“Surely there’s a different way of dealing with this. We could send the locksmith before the splinter unit and-” your rant got interrupted with a sudden creak of chair to your right. Impatience.
“Why complicate something simple? I go in and open the door. That’s it” Neil flayed his hands around as though compensating for the tension permeating the room.
Wishing to dissolve it by fake excitement. Not on your watch. Urging your body to stop trembling, you garnered the strength to voice the obvious question. The one everyone seemed to skirt around for the past ten minutes.
“You don’t want to come back?” your voice wavered, betraying the nerves.
That was exactly what Neil needed to finally look you in the eye. With reluctance, he turned to you. When your gazes met, he flinched. Barely perceptible and yet there. Great.
“This isn’t about what I want or don’t want” you could tell Neil was just about keeping himself cool.
This could go either way. You found yourself on the tipping point, tiptoeing the edge. The fall never seemed so inviting. Almost as good as letting yourself drown in his eyes. Anything to ignore the reality.
“As if you knew what you want,” you muttered, aware he will catch on to the implications.
Neil clenched his jaw as his hand gripping the mug tightened. You have hit the mark. Top job. It took him a moment to respond. You could feel the gazes of everyone else fixed on you two. Their breaths were held as though afraid anything could set off the explosion. They were probably right.
“…Maybe you haven’t gotten the memo yet, but this isn’t about us anymore. If the task requires sacrifice, then be it” Neil finished the sentence with a hard look in his eyes.
Us? The emphasis he placed on the word made you blink in shock. On its own accord, your mind drifted back to the conversation in Tallinn. We’re just us. Me and you, was what he said back then. Only now, it was not that simple. Ignoring the ache in your heart, you swallowed hard, trying to find any traces of reason.
“But-” it was not meant to be.
Before you could add another word, Neil took hold of your hand, making you shut up. Shocked, you met his eyes, only to be paralyzed by the harshness of his expression. Your protests were not welcome. He has made up his mind.
“Darling, I appreciate the concern. However-” his tone was dripping with condescension.
The nickname felt like a slap. You tugged at the hand he still had in his grasp, cutting in sharply:
“How very patronizing of you” giving him the fakest of smiles, you added, “I had the illusion that you’re better than this… but well, as with most things I was wrong” a shrug to complete the insult “I still think there must be a way around it. There’s a reason why we got this warning” ending the torture of prolonged eye contact, you glanced around the table.
A silent cry for help. TP met your gaze, rapidly catching on to the desperation pouring out of your eyes. If anyone should get it, it’s him.
“Okay, hold on. Let’s suppose we do it as you say-” the boss interjected, putting all of the charisma into the sentence.
For nothing.
“Maybe the reason was that you need time to get used to the idea. Clearly, you’re the only one who opposes it this strongly” Neil was still looking at you only.
Cold blue eyes and lips twisted into a cruel smirk. That was the same man that fought with you on the highway in Tallinn. Terrible beauty. And yet, you could not look away, drawn by the gravitational pull that kept you tied to his side.
“What are you trying to say?” your voice sounded small.
The confidence was gone. The gloves were off. That was it. The explosion everyone feared. Judging by the way Neil leaned in closer, it was all part of the plan. Calculated and measured for the greatest impact. His knee bumped into your thigh. You froze as his nose brushed over your ear. Too close.
“That you lied to me a few days back. That you still l-” blood froze in your veins as you took in the meaning.
Before he could say the word, you hissed and lurched back.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the curse ripped apart the tense silence.
The pain was unimaginable. You felt close to screaming. Helpless. Alone. Desperate. In love. All for nothing.
“As I said, sometimes feelings need to be put aside. Whatever they might be,” you heard his voice as though from afar.
Enough. Releasing a long exhale, you closed the folder and stood up. That was enough. He did not deserve the sight of your tears.
“Now, let’s assume I go, open the door for the splinter unit, and… What are you doing?” Neil noticed your movement a second too late.
The confusion on his face was almost laughable. Pity.
“What does it look like?” you scoffed, pushing the chair back onto its place “I’ve had enough of this sacrificial bullshit and personal insults” addressing the room at large, you added, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the range”
You noticed Wheeler’s sympathetic nod breaking in through the concern on her face. Ives looked pissed off, and you could not blame him for it. You have made quite the show. Again. TP just glanced at you, utterly perplexed. There was no logical explanation for any of this.
“You can’t just-” attempting protest, Neil took hold of your hand again.
You knew the purpose behind that. If everything else failed, he was well aware that touch was your weakest point. That previously it always worked. Not anymore. You met his eyes, encountering nothing but annoyance and frustration.
“Neil” Wheeler’s warning was a welcomed addition “Let her go,”
That was all he needed. Letting go of your hand, he gave you a final look. Something shifted for a split second. But you found that you did not care. Without a second thought, you bolted out of the room. The very last thing you heard felt like the final blow:
“She’s being ridiculous,” Neil muttered dejectedly.
She. Just that. With shaking hands, you closed the zip lock.
“And you’re stupid. Sit the fuck down,” Ives’s command rung out in the air behind your back.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you ran down the corridor. Fuck.
*** That day you have successfully managed to hide from everyone. Wheeler came to check up on you in the evening to, as she put it, make sure you have not taken the shooting practice a little too seriously. You could only offer her your tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes as you assured her that this would be the worst state she was likely to see you in. Was that a lie? Maybe. To put it bluntly, after the morning nightmare of a confab, death sounded like an interesting option. Certainly better than another week of Neil offering to get himself killed just because. You chose 2 am that night to finally emerge from the cabin in the search of food. Without bothering to touch up your bedraggled appearance, you tiptoed down the corridor, taking one extra look at the door of Neil’s room. Why? Fuck knows. The silence was encouraging. However, that confidence was to be your ultimate downfall.
The moment you dealt with the airlock leading to the galley, you knew that you were not alone. Neil was there, chatting to one of the squad members you vaguely remembered from the days spent in inversion. Dominic, or something. Briefly, you considered turning back around and leaving as though you were never even there. But when the men turned, and your eyes met, it was too late. Luck was never on your side.
“Hi,” you gave them both a nod and opened the fridge before either could take a longer look at you.
“Evening” Neil cleared his throat awkwardly.
After a pause, the men picked up their conversation in hushed tones while finishing sandwiches. Mindlessly you stared at the contains of the fridge, hoping to appear occupied. To be forgotten. But to no avail. You could feel someone’s gaze burning into the side of your head. Somehow you knew that if you dared look up, the blue eyes would be there. Ready to analyze you. To find weaknesses and strike when appropriate. You could only hope he would not do it with Dominic present.
Fridge held no answers. You closed it quietly and took hold of the granola bar from the cupboard. Only tea left now… easy. They were still talking. From what you could hear, it had something to do with the inverted weaponry and the training you were all forced to recap before Stalsk. You thanked the gods for the presence of the buffer, as you not so patiently waited for the water to boil. The false sense of security shattered seconds later:
“Thanks, mate. See you in the morning, yeah?” Dominic rinsed the plate quickly and started to put on the mask.
What is worse, Neil was not doing the same. Instead, he was still sitting at the table, smiling at the colleague.
“Yep. Can’t wait,” the fake enthusiasm radiating from him in waves.
But it seemed like only you could see it. Another observation for nothing. Your pulse quickened as you realised that it was only a matter of seconds till you were alone again. And the fucking water was still boiling.
“Goodnight, Y/N” Dominic smiled at you before moving to open the airlock.
“Night night,” your response came out too breathlessly.
Crap. Just like that, he was gone. It was you and Neil, staring at each other like two animals locked up in a cage. He quickly assessed your appearance, taking in the puffed-up eyes, tangled hair, and shaking hands. You wanted to ask him whether he was satisfied with his work. But that would mean admitting how much it hurt. And your pride was in the way. The kettle switched off. Neil’s taxing gaze stopped as his eyes widened.
“Is that-” that is when you realised.
Fuck. When leaving the cabin, you have not changed. That meant you were still wearing the only article of clothing that brought some comfort. Neil’s burgundy sweater. And he most certainly recognized it.
“Neil I-” his name was the only answer as you struggled for words.
Neil stood up and pounced, closing the distance. The malicious look in his eyes was terrifying. And inspiring.
“Why do you have my sweater?” to emphasize the point, he took hold of the material, drawing you near in progress, “I didn’t take you for a thief,” delivered with a cruel smirk.
With Neil that close and acting ridiculously, you realised that above all, you were tired. And had enough of this. Of him.
“I used the opportunity and went into your apartment,” a tight-lipped smile thrown in before he could interject, “Yes, I know, don’t worry, I haven’t stolen anything else,” you added, enjoying the surprise flashing in his eyes.
He forgot about the keys. Or did not think you would use them after everything. And now, when he realised how much you knew, it was hard to accept. That was encouraging. You waited for Neil to bite back, letting yourself stare at him without shame. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes lit up. There we go…
“You know that you’re not making any sense?” he blurted out the question and tugged at the sweater “You just- You’re telling me that it’s all over and yet here you are, wearing my clothes” another tug, bringing you just as close as the last time “I mean that’s one way of confusing me further” he finished on a whisper.
It took you a moment to recover. To realise that once again, you were too close. When that clicked, you took a step back and met Neil’s gaze. Too satisfied. His pupils were darker than usual, and that was worryingly enticing. Focus. Anger was the answer.
“Confusing you?” a sudden idea struck, “Fucking hell, you know what?” another step back, “Just take it, and let’s end this discussion” you started taking the garment over your head.
“What- Why are you...” much to Neil’s shock.
Good. The cold air hit your body as you took off the sweater and threw it in his face. You were eternally grateful to your morning self for putting on that tank top. Not much, but still preventing you from the walk back in only the bra. As Neil scrambled to pick up the garment that fell onto the floor, you added:
“I’ll give you back the keys tomorrow” you met his wide-eyed stare with pleasure, “There’s no need to stare. You’ve seen it before,”
Yet, the way his gaze roamed over your body was fascinating. There was nothing to see there, but still, he seemed transfixed. You took that as your chance to strike.
“Hell, you’ve even had your hand down my pants. Twice” Neil flinched, and you smirked, “Talking about wrong life choices and all that” it was nice to see him hurt.
For once. Even if it was another lie. He looked lost, unable to find a response to something like that.
“I-” a pathetic attempt at god knows what.
You took a final glance at him there. Clutching the cashmere sweater in his hand. Hair falling into his eyes. Shoulder sagged. Defeated. Confused. Finally.
“Goodbye,” you grabbed the mug and left before Neil had a chance of recovery.
The walk back to the room was cold. But probably worth the pain.
*** Sighing with happiness for the first time that day, you closed the door to the cabin and collapsed onto the bed. For the past three hours, you have been occupied with training that Ives made mandatory for all the mission participants, and you were exhausted. The only encouragement was the fact that the squad leader made sure your shift was different from that of Neil. What was even better, he did that without you needing to ask first. Just like that. And you were very grateful. Moments like those last two encounters in the kitchen were best avoided at all costs. Any contact was ideally off the books. Even when it hurt.  
With the sweater gone, you had no more things to hold on to. Well, apart from all those memories and the ability to read him like an open book. Utterly useless skills like algebra or functions at this point. You have changed into the comfiest set of sweatpants and a hoodie, hoping to spend the next few hours marinating in your misery. But long before you could even think of the first reason to cry, a knock made you jump up. Who the hell…. Grudgingly, you got up and opened the door.
“Hey…” you did not expect him.
Despite everything, your heart was naive enough to stumble upon the sight of Neil. And his stupid hair. And the repentant look in his eyes. What even.
“What do you want?” you decided to cut the bullshit, meeting his gaze coldly.
The visit was certainly unexpected. As was the fact that he seemed apologetic. Meek, even. Neil shifted nervously before answering:
“Here’s the sweater. You can keep it” he handed you the garment with a tiny smile, “It smells more like you than me now, but…” trailing off, he shrugged.
The implications of that statement were too much to handle. As was the fact that he gave you back the sweater. You gaped at him, speechless. It made no sense. But the silence stretched too long, and Neil looked even more uncomfortable.
“Okay…” you accepted the gift, making sure your hands have not brushed.
“I’m sorry about how I reacted yesterday it wasn’t reasonable,” he added, with that contrite tone you were not used to.
Unreasonable? That was one way of describing what happened the previous night. You did not know whether it was the glaring lack of confidence radiating from him or as something as simple as the fact that you missed him. But you could feel the resolve crumble.
“I’d say nothing you do is reasonable… thanks though” mustering a weak smile, you stepped away from the door, “You can come in if you want,”
Risky. And something Neil did not expect either, judging by the way he hesitated before entering the cabin and closing the door. You sat down on the edge of the bed and observed his awkward movement. A look around the small space. His eyes slipping over the few personal items you had. The sparring gear you have carelessly thrown onto the floor. And the bin full of used tissues. How humiliating. Then he perched on the chair and met your gaze wearily. Without you even needing to ask the question, he answered:
“I guess it surprised me to see that you’re using something of mine after everything” the honesty was strangely comforting.
For the first time since the disastrous mission in Tallinn, you could tell that he was genuine. Open for you to read and interpret however you fancy. That was intriguing. Enjoying the way his eyes roamed over your features, you leaned back on the bed. Relaxed. Sincere. You could try that.
“It surprises me too,” shrugging, you pursed your lips, staring thoughtfully at the window.
You did not have to look at him to imagine the expression on his face. A little concerned, extremely curious.
“How do you mean?” the soft tone made you glance back.
Sure enough, the furrowed eyebrows and sparkling eyes were there. Neil crossed his legs, studying you intently. You could tell that he wanted to know. That this was probably the closest you would ever come to a normal conversation with him. Might as well use it.
“Well, the heart knows best,” offering him a sad smile, you laced your hands in your lap.
Here’s to hoping he won’t turn it on you. But when you dared look up at Neil again, you were surprised to see him stunned by what you revealed. After a beat, he found the words:
“I thought you don’t-”
Of course. Unable to stop the irritation gnawing at your heart, you scoffed, preventing him from saying something so wrong.
“I never said that,” you explained upon his wide-eyed stare, “But that’s beyond the point, isn’t it?” you sighed, hoping to make him drop the topic before it would drift somewhere dangerous “Why are you here?”
You took a longer look at him then. Taking in the denial painted on his face. He wanted to press on, to get you to explain things. Not today. Then, returning your taxing gaze, Neil offered you his wistful smile.  
“I suppose I’ve missed you” the sincerity of the statement was terrifying.
You felt a painful pang in your chest, as though the heart itself was awaiting the tragic end to this conversation. Courage. For a second, you wanted to cross that meter of space. To… Yeah, what exactly? One memory of what he said in the kitchen a few nights back was enough to sober up. You had to be careful.
“...right” the next words were a result of annoyance, pure and simple “Are you sure there isn’t anyone better? Because I bet there are at least five people aboard this ship who would give you everything. Without questions asked. Maybe you should talk to them” once you were done with the rant, you faced Neil again.
He was gaping, speechless. It seemed like his sharp wit was missing. That was only good news for you. A myriad of feelings passed in his eyes. You could discern shock, offense, heartbreak, and most surprisingly, something darker. Contradicting the very next thing he said:
“If I was looking for that, I’d never come to you. Because I value you more. But I don’t expect you to believe me” the defeat in Neil’s eyes was confusing.
But not any less than you were at that moment. More than what? A cheap fuck? One could hope so. But at the same time, considering the multitude of instances when he seemed desperate to get too close, it felt like a lie.
“I don’t, so you got something right,” you admitted, hoping to keep the emotions in check.
His blue eyes were fixed on you with intensity, trying to read all that you were not saying. After a minute of excessive staring, you were the first one to give up. The last thing you saw was a smirk forming on Neil’s lips. As though he knew that you were close to breaking. Close to potentially doing something stupid. Jumping up, you paced to the window. Nothing but sea and sky. And the damned birds. But even that was better than being faced with what you have lost. After a few days on board the icebreaker, you got used to the casual outfits he sported. What was worse is that they did nothing to make this any easier. It only proved the theory that Neil looked good in anything. Well, fuck him. Only not literally.
With the silence stretching well past the point of awkwardness, you grasped onto the first passing thought, turning to Neil again:
“You’ve talked about… me with TP, haven’t you?” it was a strange change of topic, but also something that has been on your mind for a while “Because suddenly he seems to trust me and I’m not sure what the fuck happened” throwing in the expletive, you sat down on the floor with your back against the wall.
Neil eyed you curiously. He was strangely quiet, and you wondered why that could be. Whether it meant that for once, he did not know what to say. Or maybe because he already regretted coming to see you. Yeah, probably that second option.
“Yes, I’ve explained a few things on the way to Oslo” the diplomatic tone was mildly annoying.
He leaned back in the chair, making sure to face you in the new dynamic. Only the nervous foot-tapping was a sign that he did not like the direction of the conversation. Interesting.
“Such as?” pressing on, you took a moment to observe him.
These days he gave up on styling the hair as the wind outside would always blow it in his eyes. That was rather adorable. He unzipped the pullover, shifting in the seat. Tension spilling out in weaves as Neil waved his hand dismissively.
“It doesn’t really matter,” another remorseful smile.
So, he must have said much more than just the basics. Could he have admitted to things even you were not allowed to know?
“Well, you must’ve said some crucial bits if he’s now so eager to take my side” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze purposefully.
Hoping he will catch on. Just like the matter of whatever it was between you, the battle plans were a clear no-go in this conversation. But that did not mean you could not hint at it. He had to understand that you were not going to give in so easily. That his suicidal mission was not getting a green light from you. The bait worked. Kind of.
“I said things that you and I should probably explain to each other one day” Neil’s grin did not reach his eyes.
Oh. He must have read the shock from your face, for his eyes glimmered dangerously as he relaxed on the chair. Your brain froze. Things? As in what? You both did and did not want to ask. Instead, you chose to attack.
“We won’t have time if you sacrifice yourself” simply put with a merciless stare.
Neil frowned, not expecting that kind of a dig. Before you could taste the satisfaction, his weary expression caught you off guard. Could that really hurt him? The cold of the wall was digging into your back.
“Let’s leave that for the meeting tomorrow,” a silent plea in the blue eyes “I don’t want to argue,”
He meant it. The tiredness etched onto his face told you as much. You were used to seeing the same kind of exhaustion every morning in the mirror. You could let him off.
“Okay…” a solemn nod before you got up and picked up the pacing again.
It was a strange feeling to be with him alone and yet not close. You realised that this was likely the first time since the early days when you were together somewhere private and were not even touching. It felt wrong.
“How did you like my place?” Neil’s question was like a much-needed grounding.
Swallowing down the discomfort, you turned back to him. The innocence was just a façade that he has put on for your sake. He expected an answer, and you did not know where to start. And then… the way his hair caught rays of sunlight was an inspiration.
“It was… enlightening,” you relished in the curiosity reflected at you, “For starters, I never realised that this is all fake” crossing the space in one leap, you ran your fingers through his hair.
Just like the old times. Only then, Neil would not shudder upon the initial contact. It took him a longer moment to recover. You smirked seeing his stunned face and resumed the movement, separating the strands slowly. You had no clue why this was the fact you latched onto. Blonde or not, he was a sight. But the idea that he dyed his hair would not leave your mind like the worst of brain worms.
“Ah, you’ve seen the photos” when he finally found the words again, his voice was hoarse.
As though whatever you were doing had some sort of an effect. A spark of confidence. You tugged at a strand sharply, the gasp making you bite your lip hard. A dangerous game. The words you have been biting back begun to spill from your mouth:
“It fascinates me because you act oh so confident all the time, and yet you’re pretending you’re someone you’re not” glancing down, you noticed the closed eyes and pursed lips.
It was definitely working. Whatever you even wanted to achieve. It was nice to hold power for once. To call him out on the bullshit you had to deal with every day.
“That’s just hair,” Neil protested weakly, grabbing onto your free hand and encircling the wrist.
Unable to stop the emotions bubbling under the surface, you scoffed:
“It really isn’t. I mean, why? It’s not like you have to scrape for attention” his eyes met yours with defiance, “Unless you’re compensating for something. In which case, that’s just ridiculous” the hit came with a visible flinch from Neil “And ever so manly” you perfected the punchline with a final tug on his golden strands.
That turned out to be a step too far. Before you could sense a change in the mood, Neil used the hold over your hand to bring you down. More accurately, to make you sit in his lap. Your brain caught up too late. Suddenly he was too close, with hands settling on your hips, securing you in place. Fuck. You opened your eyes, cursing the moment of weakness. Neil was staring right back, his eyes unreadable and dark. You messed up.
“What are you doing?” too breathless.
He caught onto that, rubbing circles onto your thigh, focused on you. It would be easy to get up and throw him out, ending this madness. But you found that you did not want to.
“I’m not sure. Say a word, and I’ll leave. But...” he trailed off, searching your eyes for something.
A protest, most likely. A clear-cut rejection. When he found nothing, he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. So close. Slowly your willpower was waning. You placed your palm over his heart to feel the warmth.
“Neil, why...” unable to find the words, you stared at him with questions multiplying in your head.
What was this? Was it why he came? And why, despite the hurt he inflicted, you could not tell him to stop?
“Because you’re here. It’s all I need to start feeling like...” another open-ended response.
Adding on to the confusion. His heart was beating fast, breaths coming out shallow. With fingers still tangled in his hair, you urged him to keep eye contact. That was the only chance of telling whether he was honest.
“Like what? Like you could want me?” the words were hard to say out loud.
For a moment, you felt like this was Tallinn all over again. Like you were losing sanity just for the sake of getting something from him. The ever-present yearning getting the best of you. The only difference was that this time Neil was the desperate one. His hands roamed over your hips and thighs, causing worrying jolts of electricity. It shouldn’t be that easy.
“You know that I do,” a whisper, eyes overfilled with determination.
Did you? Now – maybe. Any other day – hell knows.
“Maybe once I did. But recently... I don’t think you know what you want. You’re just...” you offered him the honesty, absentmindedly running your fingertips over his temple.
Exploring all that was familiar yet missed so much. The creases on his forehead deepened.
“What?” Neil leaned in once again, nuzzling the skin on your neck.
The shaky exhale felt like a defeat. It was increasingly hard to think, let alone give him coherent answers.
“You’re not making any sense” that had to do.
Only it was whispered breathlessly. Not convincing.
“Maybe this will make sense...”
Before you could contemplate the meaning of his words, Neil kissed your neck, drawing out a shudder. One of his hands wandered underneath the hoodie. His fingers ghosted the skin. You have not realised how much you’ve missed it until you got it. As he got braver in his ministrations, teeth grazing over your pulse point, hands stroking your bare back, you felt intoxicated. Unable to do anything but pull him closer and let your hands venture underneath his black t-shirt. It made no sense. But as soon as a reasonable thought would come up, Neil would do something to make you forget. It could be a kiss right under your ear or fingers getting too close to your sports bra. Christ. No logic, just Neil being the sole reason for insanity. The heat travelling up your veins was getting too evident to be ignored. As he gave you a particularly forceful mark by sucking on the skin in the crook of your neck, you could not hold back a moan. It pierced the silence accompanied only by your shallow breaths. Neil froze as though he was not expecting a reaction that strong. His breath causing goosebumps all along your neck. For a second, you wanted to pull him even closer, to give permission to take everything he desires. Even without a promise that it would mean something to him. He raised his head, meeting your wild gaze with the darkened pupils of his own. The proximity was suffocating. Unable to make sense of your thoughts, you leaned in, hoping to get lost in a kiss. To buy some time before you would have to make up your mind. That is when Neil did something unexpected – he pulled back, with a strangely remorseful look in his eyes. Fuck. Alarm bells started ringing out in your head, harshly reminding you about the reality of the situation. As though nothing happened, Neil’s hands went back to the meticulous caress of your upper body. But you could not ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if this wouldn’t mean a thing? Suddenly it seemed like the worst mistake you could make. The previous frenzy was quickly replaced with dread. Not meant to be. You retracted your hands from underneath Neil’s shirt and pushed him back. It took all the strength available to deliver the next sentence with necessary firmness:
“I think you should leave,” you hoped to hide the pain behind the schooled features.
If he was surprised, he was very good at pretending. His eyes searched yours for a beat, and then he let go of you. His touch was already missed.
“If that’s what you want,” Neil’s voice revealed remains of passion as he nonchalantly smoothed the hair you have tangled.
That was the cue to get up. With cheeks burning, you turned away from him, doing your best to cool off and keep the scraps of dignity you had still left. Before you could risk a dangerous spiral, Neil’s voice brought you back to the moment:
“Too close, wasn’t it?” you frowned at the casual tone.
He was zipping up the pullover, staring at you with startling composure. As though the past minutes have not happened. As though he has not marked you as his for the umpteenth time. It was terrifying.
“What?” you gaped, trying to collect the thoughts and keep calm.
“We got too close. And you’re worried because for a moment you wanted more than you should” Neil shrugged upon your quiet gasp.
He could read you too well.
“Don’t do that,” a pathetic attempt at a plea.
But it must have worked for his expression softened. A small smile split his face as Neil pressed the door handle:
“Just thought you should know that I don’t mind. I don’t have much left to lose,” a parting remark, and then he was gone.
You covered your face with your hands, falling onto the knees when the remains of strength gave out. What a fucking mess.
*** What you did not expect to be the hardest feat of all before the meeting the next morning was making sure that all the bruises were covered up. You did not need to add questions and human curiosity to the list of your problems. After all, it would have been obvious to anyone with a brain. You fucked up, and Neil was the reason why and how that happened. As usual. That was best avoided since everyone on your war council knew enough already when it came to your relationship. Or whatever the fuck it was.
As you walked in, everyone else was already on the bridge, spreading the materials and preparing the whiteboard. Wheeler gave you a welcoming smile which at that moment was worth more than it should. Any expression of kindness was at a premium. You sat down, and before you could process much of what was going on, a mug of coffee appeared before your eyes. Just so. A second later, Neil took the seat next to you without acknowledging your existence. Cool. Perplexed, you looked around the room, locking eyes with TP. He shrugged as though exactly aware of your issues yet unable to help. That much was enough to make you feel a tiny bit better. After a beat, the boss spoke up:
“Before we begin… Y/N?” his question interrupted the first experimental sip of the coffee.
Perfect. Again.
“Yes?” you ignored the annoying spike of anxiety upon being the centre of attention.
“Is Mahir going back to meet Kat in Vietnam on the 14th?”
Ah, that. The little side quest that you have been given ages ago with close to no information towards its purpose. Thankfully, Mahir cooperated. No questions were asked as you arranged for him to invert in London and travel to Vietnam to be Kat’s aide. That kind of smooth operation was a welcomed change.
“Yep, as ordered,” you offered the dark-eyed man a small smile, “Turns out I am capable of not fucking up some things…” that addition was a product of spite.
It was rewarding to see Ives and Wheeler crack a grin at your comment. It made you feel less alienated, as though it was only the man on your right that had issues. And he might as well be ignored. Neil was being helpful in his silence too, moodily staring at the papers in front, refusing to lay his eyes on you. It was painful, especially considering the previous day, but it also meant you felt more at ease.
“It would be great if we could agree upon a few things finally,” TP interrupted the silence, looking at you all expectantly.
“Can’t promise you that, chief” you shrugged, aware of the way Neil shifted in his seat.
His knee bumped into your leg, starting the irritating dance you thought you had moved past. But, supposedly, laying his hands all over your body yesterday was not enough for him.
“I know. But let’s try” you focused all the attention back on the boss “Splinter unit,” the phrase fell between you all like a death sentence “Who and how?”
“The tunnel” you picked up the map and showed it to him, “That’s what the intel said” taking the sip of coffee, you added, “As towards who…”
One of the sleepless nights has been spent wondering whether you should not volunteer for that. The logic was that there was a reason why TP chose you as his link with everyone else. It meant his future version trusted you enough. But it also meant you were important. In those hopeless moments, it felt like maybe that was the purpose. And if it would mean no coming back? So be it. Death for the means of saving the world did not sound half that bad. Before you could express the thoughts, TP spoke up again:
“It should be me” his voice was emotionless.
“Why-” Neil’s voice rang out in the room.
You glanced at him, noticing the tension and worry radiating from him. It was a strange situation; everyone could see that. You all knew that TP had to survive. After all, how could you be at this point if he did not? He had to set up Tenet, hire Neil, Ives and everyone else, prepare the ground for the operation to unfold just like this. But then, considering everything you have been told about temporal paradoxes… could it be that simple? Or was Neil wrong, and what’s happened could also unhappen, so to speak? Too much. Your head began to pound.
“I’m the protagonist of this whole operation. The reason why you’re all here” that was convincing.
And in any other situation, you would have laughed at the prophetic overtone of the statement. But now other emotions were more prominent…
“Mmmm, I’m here because of him,” you retorted, pointedly staring at Neil, 
“Only, he doesn’t care” that is when the man turned to look at you for the first time that morning.
Irritated. Fed up with your bullshit. Lips pressed into a thin line. Eyes glimmering dangerously. Nothing new.
“What are you-” the sharp edge to his voice was satisfying.
Any kind of reaction meant you succeeded at pissing him off. Somehow back then, it was the best thing that could happen.
“Just being salty. Don’t mind me” you shrugged, making sure to pat his shoulder quickly.
Another tiny stab. Neil’s eyes flicked to your hand in a flash and then back to meet your eyes. You could only give him a deliberate smirk.
“Anyways… The splinter unit will be two people” Ives brought back the topic with palpable annoyance, “I’ve got an obvious choice on my mind, but I’ll discuss that later with some of you” the definitive tone would have made anyone shut up.
Not you though. Not when there was nothing to lose, and you decided that you might as well have fun with this mess.
“Why so mysterious, huh?” another quip, all to make Ives look up at you with surprise.
He rolled his eyes, showing you exactly what he thought of your new approach to things.
“We’ve got a more pressing topic to deal with” nothing to play with there.
What a shame. Mouthing an apology at the squad leader, you could feel the tension surge. The more trivial topics have been already mentioned and moved past. Now it was the time for big guns. For another clash of the titans. 
“Precisely,” Neil jumped at the chance and spoke “The elephant in the room is rather obvious” his eyes scanned the space with a predatory gleam, settling on you, “I mean, look at her… she’s barely staying quiet,” a mocking smirk to compliment the statement.
Presumptuous fuck. Despite the anger reaching a boiling point in your veins, you refused to give him the satisfaction. To show how much it hurt.
“Her?” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze defiantly “Neil, that’s a low blow. Even for you” a passing flinch on his face giving the power to keep going “But yes, I’d love to know whether you’ve changed your mind regarding some important matters” you addressed the room at large, searching for support.
That concerned look Wheeler shot you was helpful. As was the way TP hunched in the chair, burdened with terrifying possibilities of Neil’s stubbornness. Maybe you won’t have to be alone in this.
“I’m going in,” the blonde man shrugged nonchalantly, staring you down, “The only thing you can do is help us plan how to make it work,”
The strategy was to alienate you. Make it sound like you were the only one protesting against his idiotic plan. Well, not on your watch. Now was the time to put all those sleepless nights to use.
“How to make what work? Your suicide?” you scoffed, taking pleasure in how he frowned at the word, “If you let me speak for once, I’ve got an idea” finishing the lukewarm coffee, you gathered needed strength.
“Go ahead, sunshine,” a sarcastic half-smile, begging to be wiped off his face with a slap.
Maybe another time.
“What if two people went first to take care of the lock?” your voice cut through the tension permeating the room, “You rarely send anyone out without a cover. Because it’s unreasonable. So why this time it should be different?” that was logical.
The most sensible of plans you could come up with. Two on the splinter unit; two to deal with the lock. More likely to find an exit or, simply, survive whatever was waiting by the dead-drop. You also had ideas when it came to who should accompany Neil. But those were best kept a secret.
“Because losing two is worse than one. Even you can do the maths” the unnecessary dig made you roll your eyes.
He was ridiculous. In moments like this, you wished you had never fallen for him. But there was no point in crying over the spilt milk.
“Two have greater chances of survival,” you counterattacked, stating the obvious.
The truth he was so gladly ignoring for his purposes.
“You’ve got a point,” Wheeler chimed in, making you both turn to her.
“Thanks,” you offered the brightest grin you could muster and searched for more backing on the faces of the fellow companions.
Before you could analyse the grave expressions on TP and Ives’s faces, Neil spoke up again:
“You’re also rather emotional…” another insult.
Fuck. It was getting increasingly hard to stay calm. But that was the only thing to do. Another scene before the whole team was certainly not desired. You took a deep breath, fighting to maintain composure.
“Neil, stop” Ives was your saviour of the hour, interrupting with the non-bullshit attitude, “I think this idea is worth going over. It’s not like we’ve got anything better,”
You vowed to send Ives a bouquet of roses if you were still alive after all this. Or better, take him out to a pub. Nothing was settled upon during that meeting. The chaos of you all trying to convince Neil to listen to your arguments was only interrupted with him throwing more offences at you. Apart from emotional, you learned you were also delusional. And a potential loose cannon that was best kept away from making crucial decisions. You debated putting all of those on your CV and asking him to provide the references. After all, Neil was the expert when it came to your skillset. After half hour of barely held-together discussion, Ives told you all to calm down and fuck off for the time being. At least until you could decide on something without jumping to your throats. You doubted that was even possible. You were resolved to drive your plan forward. And so was Neil.
When the meeting was over, you were the first one to leave, hoping to slip out before anyone could stop you. You made it as far as the corridor leading to the bridge when you felt someone grab your arm, making you turn around. Of course. Neil’s steel-blue eyes were staring at you coldly. He was getting ready to attack, and you did not want to let him. Before either of you could break the silence, someone stopped in the corridor, and the familiar voice spoke:
“You two should fuck each other already,” you scowled at Ives’s choice of words, “Or break-up. I don’t care, only don’t do this again” he gave you a long taxing look, with annoyance brewing underneath.
You could not blame him. Only that kind of comment was too much right now. With cheeks burning, you desperately searched for words. Neil found them for you:
“We’re not together” dead simple with a tinge of anger to it.
You took a look at Neil, noticing the frown set on his face. And the fact that he was still holding on to you. Fingers wrapped around your bicep, just enough force to make it seem questionable.
“Could’ve fooled me” the squad leader shrugged and walked off before either of you could react.
Great start. Yanking your arm free, you asked:
“What do you want?” you made sure to make him hear the irritation.
That was against the plan, and you doubted your ability to survive yet another confrontation. From the look in his eyes, you could also guess where this was going.
“I know what you’re doing. All I’ve got to say is don’t,” Neil stared you down, keen on intimidation, “I won’t let it happen” no room for discussion there.
Well, maybe with any other idiot. You knew it would come to it. The moment when you would have to admit that your plan involved going with Neil. And there would be no debate about it. It had to be you. Reasons? Inexplicable.
“Tough luck because I’m not letting you get killed,” you counterattacked, meeting his intense gaze without reluctance, “Or go in there alone,” a pointed emphasis, to show him you meant it.
You felt like you could win this one. Maybe even walk away without the tears in your eyes. Just this once. But then Neil did what he does best – changed the topic.
“If this is about what happened-” he reached out to you again, fingers curling around your wrist.
There we go. You were surprised it took him that long to mention the previous afternoon. His touch and the bruises were hard to forget, but so was the lack of affection in his eyes. As though you were just another hook-up. Someone to seduce, get pleasure from, and then leave without a word of explanation. Nothing more. You deserved better than this. With heart hammering in your chest, you responded:
“Not everything is about you trying to fuck me, Neil,” it was his turn to scowl, as though the words have hurt him.
It was only fair.
“Who said-” his grip on your wrist tightened, drawing you closer.
But that alone was not enough to distract you from the denial he tried to pass as the truth.
“Please,” you gave him a pointed look, “That was a mistake, and it’s best treated like one” swallowing down the discomfort, you let the statement fall between you.
You wanted nothing but to forget about it. Brush it under the carpet. The marks were enough of a punishment for a moment of weakness. Neil seemed to consider something quickly, weighting the options, before he nodded:
“Of course,” the formality had the potential to drive you mad, “I’m glad we seem to agree on something,”
For a second, you contemplated leaving the scene. You knew he would not follow, too caught up in the grudges and apprehensions to stop you from escaping. But you wanted to have the last word. To put to use the ability to see right through his act. Neil was staring at you with eyes narrowed, trying to anticipate the very next move. You were sure to surprise him.
“Think I have figured it out though,” he arched his eyebrow in a silent question “Why you’re so keen on doing something that stupid” his face fell, you took a step forward “It’s that hero complex, hidden under honourable acts and philosophical bullshit” pulling your hand out of his hold, you advanced to intimidate, “You think you’re past redemption. That you don’t deserve it. But you can’t give up until you save everybody else. That’s just who you are” the sheer panic in his eyes was fascinating “Only there’s me. An obstruction” Neil swallowed hard as you laid your hand on his shoulder; nearly there, “And you might not love me, but it still doesn’t mean I can let you do it” you gave him a final sad smile, brushing away a stray hair from his pullover.
Yours, judging by the length and colour. A quirk of fate. You were too busy contemplating the fact to notice a shift in his eyes. Denial. Disbelief. Darkness.
“My god… you’re so stupid” the sharp edge to his voice was dripping with venom, “How can you not see it?” Neil was looking at you as though you were an idiot.
Wow. Fighting the urge to breakdown, you took a deep breath. You should have known he had not had enough of hurting you. Always naïve.
“… thanks,” you chuckled dryly, holding on to the remains of anger in your system, “First ‘emotional and delusional’. Now this… you’re expanding your vocabulary” his silence was deafening, “I wonder what will be next… expletives?” the next statement came from the depths of your heart “It would be much easier to just admit that you hate me, and we could be done with this”
That childlike belief in the existence of love wanted him to say no. To deny that he could ever despise you in any way. But the innocence had to be buried if you were to survive.
“I’ll consider that” the cold calculation in Neil’s eyes was terrifying. It was truly over. Even if your heart felt like it was being ripped out. The edges of your vision were blurring, eyes burning with tears begging to be released. Not yet.
“Fab,” you brushed away the strand that was falling into his eyes, “As a final note… I admit that the worst mistake I have ever made was allowing myself to believe you’re worth it”
It was not exactly the truth. But the tiniest moment of passing shock in his eyes was a good enough response. For a second, Neil was speechless, stunned by your harsh words and the way you caressed his face. One last guilty pleasure.
“I’m glad you’re acknowledging it” his face split in an attempt at a smile.
It was broken. Dishonest. There was something fascinating in him at that very moment. The set jaw, eyes cold as ice; yours, but not at all. The beautiful and damned. Gently, you ran your fingers over his stubble, hoping to memorise his face in every way possible. The intensity of his gaze was beginning to drive you insane, offering eternal suffering if you were to make the smallest mistake. Never again.
“The cruelty looks good on you” you zipped up his pullover in one smooth motion and turned away.
The searing pain in your chest was the needed punchline.
112 notes · View notes
sarcasmandships · 3 years
Text
how to save a life ︱spencer reid
word count: 8.3k
spencer reid x slight oc
spencer and veronica argue over him keeping their relationship from the team, but when spencer sustains a life-threatening gun shot wound it puts everything into perspective 
angst + hurt/comfort with an eventual happy ending
this is not an x reader because i hate writing y/n in place of a character name and it often forces you into writing in second person which i also hate - however I have avoided giving specific descriptions of hair/eye/skin colour, height and body shape so feel free to imagine it like an x reader 
this is also heavily inspired by greys anatomy and ive taken characters from the show to be side characters, however you do not need to have watched a single episode of greys to follow the story 
warnings: mention of rape, mentions of past drug use, spencer being shot, descriptions of blood, spencer being a bit of a dick in part 1??
Veronica groaned and rolled onto her stomach, shielding her eyes from the dull light illuminating the room. Her body was stiff as she twisted to find a more comfortable position, but the glare from the lamp was still too bright, so she huffed and forced herself to sit upright.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Spencer whispered.
Veronica was still groggy and had to squint her eyes to focus on him. He was stood on the other side of her bedroom, half dressed in a pair of tight grey trousers and an unbuttoned pale blue shirt. Her eyes raked over his exposed skin.
She grumbled and flopped back down on the bed, “you’re lucky you’re pretty, waking me up at 5am on a Saturday.”
He frowned, “it’s an emergency – we just got called in on a case.”
“Is this your way of telling me you can’t come tonight?” she snorted, looking up at him lazily as her head rested on her pillow.
“The fundraising gala – right,” he said stiffly, slowly doing up his buttons, “it’s a local one, so we won’t be flying out, but I can’t justify sneaking off to a party while we’re working a case.”
“Its not a party,” Veronica said through gritted teeth, “parties are fun. This is a stupid campaign that Jackson organized to raise funds for the hospital. Where I’m expected to go and charm rich, old, white men into giving us money, and whichever department raises the most money gets a bonus-”
“And you think I’d have been a valuable addition to your efforts because?” Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because, you have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187 – that impresses everyone, and maybe it could’ve impressed some hedge fund manager enough to give me, and my department, the big bucks.”
“You flatter me.”
“Yeah, remember this feeling – cos’ you won’t be getting any more nice words from me for a while,” Veronica grumbled into her pillow; she pulled the duvet tighter around her body and screwed her eyes shut, they still hadn’t adjusted to the glow from the lamp.
Spencer had finished getting dressed, and he sighed deeply as he crept over to the bed. He crawled on top of the duvet and wrapped his arms around Veronica’s body.
“You know I would rather be with you, but if I don’t go to work, people die,” he whispered in her ear.
Veronica twisted her torso to face him, “Spencer I get it – if I don’t go to work people die too, I just hate your job when it means we can’t do things together. That gala just going to be full of dull, sleazy men – you would’ve kept me sane.”
He wrapped his arms around her, tighter, “I know, I hate it too. I just can’t leave in the middle of a serial case like this, plus even if I tried to the team would have too many questions because-”
Veronica’s body stiffened, and she unconsciously shifted away from him, “because you still haven’t told them about us, even though we’ve been together for years, and you know all my friends, and we go to work events together for my job. But we can’t for yours because you still haven’t told your team, who you consider family. I’m well aware of that fact, Spencer.”
“Veronica, you know it’s nothing to do with you. There are just some things I like to keep private from them-”
“I’m not a thing! I’m a person, and you’re not keeping it private, you’re keeping it secret. Private would be if they knew I existed but didn’t know all the details of our relationship, but that’s not what’s happening here,” she snapped.
“V, don’t be like that-”
“You should just go; you’ll be late for work. Wouldn’t want to let down your team like that.”
Spencer sighed and let go of her, he shuffled around the room gathering up his bag and coat before heading to the door.
“Goodbye, good luck at the fundraiser. Hopefully I’ll be home tonight, otherwise I’ll call you, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” she grumbled.
“I love you,” he said uncertainly.
Veronica couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto her face at his words, “I love you too,” she whispered back.
She stretched her arms out to Spencer’s side of the bed as she heard the front door click shut. The pillow and mattress were already cool from the absence of his body, Veronica let her heavy eyes fall shut and drifted off to sleep again.
She didn’t wake up again until hours later, when the sunlight crept through the gaps in the curtains and shone onto her face. Veronica unwilling pried her eyes open for the second time that day and fumbled for her phone on the bedside table to see if Spencer had texted her.
He hadn’t. Veronica’s heart sunk and her chest, he always texted her when he arrived at work. The only thing the glaring, bright screen of her phone informed her was that it was 11.57am, she had significantly overslept.
She quickly attributed it to the 17-hour spinal-cord tumour resection she had worked on yesterday and pulling the charger out of her phone she rolled over. Unlocking her phone, she sent a quick text to Spencer, reminding him that he needed to keep her updated when he was on a case or she’d assume he was dead.
But when she clicked ‘delivered’, there was a buzz from Spencer’s bedside table and Veronica strained her neck only to see that his phone was still there. She frowned, Spencer wasn’t a fan of his phone, but he never went to work without it, could he really have been so flustered from their spat that he’d forgotten it?
Whatever the reason, Veronica groaned, she wouldn’t relax all day without his periodic updates telling her that he was still alive, and she doubted he would trek all the way back to her apartment to get it.
She crawled out of bed and searched around for the first clothes she could find; a pair of dark running shorts, and her red ‘Harvard Med’ sweatshirt.  Flinging them on, she quickly sprayed herself with deodorant and grabbed her bag, keys, and Spencer’s phone before dashing out the door.
Veronica cursed Spencer as she thudded down the stairs of her apartment building, because of course, the lift was still broken. Dr. Spencer Reid was supposed to have an eidetic memory, and he forgets his phone? Idiot.
A wave of heat hit her as she stepped outside, rummaging around her bag for a pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes as she made her way over to her car. Veronica contemplated how to get the phone to Spencer as she drove, she obviously couldn’t call him to let him know she had it, and she didn’t have the extension for his desk phone.
She could hand it into someone at reception and ask them to take it up or ask them to call him down. But then she would have to talk to him again and Veronica wasn’t sure if she wanted to do that.
She knew it wasn’t his fault, she knew that he couldn’t control when serial killers decided to act out, she knew that he was out there saving lives.
But it was still frustrating they couldn’t go places like normal couples, if there wasn’t a serial killer terrorising some small town then she was being pulled in on an emergency surgery. If she were honest with herself, she didn’t know how much longer their relationship could go on like this.
At least they were in the same state this time, and they would hopefully get to sleep in the same bed whilst he worked on this case, she thought optimistically to herself as she parked her car on a side street near the FBI building.
Veronica was still debating whether to leave Spencer’s phone with the receptionist or have them call him down as she strolled across the street. But that decision was quickly made for her when she saw Spencer leaving the building, accompanied by a tall, bald man with dark skin and a short blonde woman, wearing an eccentric, neon dress.
They were laughing amongst themselves; Spencer ran a hand through his messy hair as he chuckled at something Veronica was too far away to hear. He looked so happy. She was about to turn around and sneak back to her car when Spencer clocked her, they made eye-contact and he stopped in his tracks.
His friends stopped to and after noticing that Spencer was staring at something, turned to look at her too. The man nudged him, but Spencer stood frozen his tracks. Veronica huffed, if he weren’t going to come to her, she would have to go to him.
“Spencer,” she said, as she approached them briskly.
“Veronica! We’re just going to grab lunch for the team, I…I was going to text you, but I-”
“Left your phone at my apartment,” she finished for him, holding out his phone, which he took gingerly, “hi! I’m Veronica,” she said brightly, turning to face the man and woman who were staring at her, dumbfounded.
“H-hi, I’m Penelope Garcia,” the woman finally spoke.
“Derek Morgan,” the man added, with a small wave.
They both lingered hesitantly a few steps away from Veronica and Spencer, evidently sensing the tension between them. Spencer wouldn’t make eye contact with her, he stared down at his feet, but Veronica stood her ground firmly.
“I’m literally standing right in front of them Spencer, are you still going to try and keep me a secret?” she seethed.
“I-I didn’t want it to happen like this,” he stammered.
“Right. You didn’t want it to happen, at all,” she said, turning on her heel to leave but Spencer lurched forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close into him.
“V, please don’t be like that – I wasn’t expecting you to show up at my job like this, I just needed a minute to process-”
“Process what? Your girlfriend doing you a favour? You’ve had a minute, and you clearly don’t want your friends to know me so just forget it Spencer,” she snapped, pulling her arm free from his grip.
“Veronica, please. I will introduce you properly later, just not right now,” he whispered, throwing an anxious glance back at Derek and Garcia. 
Veronica rolled her eyes, they weren’t even in earshot anymore and he was still whispering so they wouldn’t overhear.
“Why not right now? You aren’t tracking down an unsub right at this moment, you’re going to get lunch – is a sandwich really more important to you than me?”
“That isn’t what I said!”
“You didn’t have to say anything, Spence,” she smiled sadly, “I don’t understand why you don’t want the people closest to you to know that you’ve had a girlfriend for the past three years. I mean we basically live together, it’s a serious relationship, they should at least know I exist.”
“It’s more complicated than that-”
“No, it isn’t!” she cried, her voice louder and shriller than she intended, causing Derek and Garcia to step forward but Spencer waved them off, “are you embarrassed of me or something?” she asked, her eyes flickering between Spencer’s twisted expression and his friends.
“Of course not, don’t be stupid,” he snorted.
“I’m not being stupid,” she snapped, “but I can’t think of any other reason why you wouldn’t want them to know me. Not that you should have any reason to be embarrassed cos’ I’m a hot neurosurgeon, but maybe that’s not good enough for the sacred BAU,” she spat.
Garcia and Derek whispered amongst themselves as they gave the couple concerned looks.
“Veronica, please-”
“No, don’t,” she said firmly despite the tears burning in her eyes, “you’ve made it very clear where you stand. I have to go; I’m meeting April for lunch and then to get our hair done for this stupid gala. Text me to let me know you’re alive, otherwise don’t contact me,” Veronica turned to leave but Spencer gripped her arm again.
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Veronica shook her head, “no, Spencer you could literally stab me through the heart, and I wouldn’t leave you. That’s the problem, I think I love you more than you love me – I just need some space.”
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Morgan and Garcia, y-you can join us all for lunch,” he said desperately, trying to tug her towards them but Veronica pulled her arm away again.
“Too late Spence,” she sighed, “I meant what I said, still let me know you’re okay every few hours or I’ll worry. But please just leave me alone till you decide if you really want to be in this relationship.”
“Of course, I do Veronica! I lov-”
“Bye Spencer,” she said, kissing him softly on the cheek, “be safe.”
Veronica turned and dashed away from him, desperate not to let him see the tears threatening to spill over.
“Love you…” Spencer finished as he watched her disappear around a corner.
He was frozen for several moments as he stared longingly after her, but she would be in her car and long gone now. He tightened his grip on the phone she had handed him just moments before, the screen lit up and showed a text she must’ve sent before realizing he didn’t have his phone. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and turned on his heel to head back inside, but Derek was quick to grab his arm and pull him back.
“Hey, hey, hey, and just where do you think you’re going?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Inside,” Spencer snapped, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Derek gave him a pointed look, “I don’t think so kid, I’m gonna tell you what’s gonna happen – we’re gonna get in the car and go pick up lunch for everyone, it’ll take about 20 minutes, tops. That’s how long you have to explain whoever that was and why you’ve been acting so weird this morning, sound good?”
Spencer wrestled his arm out of Derek’ grip, “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply.
“Well see yeah you do pretty boy, cos’ that’s the second time you’ve snapped at me in under a minute so somethings obviously going on and I’m willing to bet it’s got something to do with Miss Harvard Med, who’s apartment you were in this morning,” he said with a knowing look, “now come on, cars this way,” he pointed to the left on the street and began to saunter off.
Spencer gave Garcia a desperate look, “Penelope, have my back here, I-”
She raised a hand up to silence him, “it doesn’t take a profiler to figure out that you’ve been acting weird all morning,” she shifted closer to him and took his large hand in hers, “I know you like to keep things to yourself Spencer, but you and I also both know that you keeping secrets doesn’t always end well, we aren’t asking you to give us every detail we just want to know what’s going on.”
Spencer huffed but didn’t disagree with her, he even let her tug his arm and lead him down the street after Derek, who was already waiting for them at the car.
“About time,” he said, lifting himself from his position leaning against the dark SVU to unlock it.
He climbed in the front seat and Garcia moved round to get in the passenger’s side, leaving Spencer to stand for a few seconds outside the car. He debated running back to the office for a few seconds, but Derek would definitely run after him, and he was a lot faster. Deciding he didn’t want to be tackled to the ground today, he grumbled and crawled into the back seat, slamming the door behind him.
“You gonna tell us why you’ve got such an attitude today now, kid?” Derek said as he turned the keys in the ignition and pulled away from the kerb.
“And who that girl was?” Garcia added.
“That was Veronica,” he shrugged, twirling the end of his tie in his hands.
“Yeah, she told us that much,” Derek sighed, “we mean who is she?”
“She’s a neurosurgeon at Stafford Grace Mercy West hospital,” he answered through gritted teeth.
“A neurosurgeon!” Garcia gasped, clapping her hands together, “our Doctor Reid found himself a doctor of his own,” she giggled.
“What? No! I just said she was a doctor; I didn’t say there was anything-”
Derek had his eyes focused on the road, but Spencer could picture the look on his face as he spoke, “I didn’t think neurosurgeons usually ran a drop-in clinic from their apartments, but y’know I’m not the one with an IQ of 187, so maybe I’m wrong.”
He gave Garcia a look and her face dropped.
Spencer swore under his breath and folded his arms tightly across his chest. He shifted uncomfortably in the back seat as Derek pulled up to the drive-thru and gave a shrug and a mumble when he asked him what he wanted to eat.
“Thank you very much ma’am,” Derek flirted with the woman in the window as she handed the paper bag of food through to him, he gave it to Garcia as he drove away, allowing her to pick through everyone’s fries.
“Y’know kid, we’ll be back at the office in 10 minutes or so and you can either tell me what’s going on now or back there, in front of everyone else.”
“It’s none of your business!” Spencer spluttered.
“You’ve not been able to focus at work all morning, every time someone has asked a question you’ve been tugging on your tie instead of giving us some long-winded statistic, then some girl we’ve never seen before shows up and you both start fighting-”
“We weren’t fighting,” Spencer grumbled, running a hand through his hair, “just a difference of opinion, that’s all.”
“A difference of opinion made her storm off like that, huh?” Derek mused.
Spencer balled his fists, why couldn’t Derek just leave it alone?
“We just want to make sure there’s nothing bad going on, Spencer,” Garcia said kindly, a handful of Emily’s fries in her mouth.
“Why do you think anything bad would be going on?”
Derek and Garcia exchanged looks.
“Hey! Why are you looking each other like that?”
Garcia twisted in her seat to face him, “we just noticed that recently you’ve not been coming out with us, you’re always rushing home after work, some days you’re really happy – and I love those days! – but other times you’re…irritable-”
“Like today,” Derek interjected.
“Right, and now this girl who just happens to be a doctor with a prescription pad shows up, and if she’s not your girlfriend then-”
“You think she’s my drug dealer?” Spencer snorted.
“Is she?” Garcia asked, alarmed.
“No!” he snapped, “fine! She’s my girlfriend, is that what you wanted to hear? Congratulations guys, you’ve finally gotten me to admit the one thing I didn’t want to tell you, whilst simultaneously accusing me of taking drugs again, and Veronica of abusing her medical license to sell drugs!”
“Hey! Kid I get if you’re upset but don’t raise your voice at Garcia like that, we suspected you were using again before Veronica ever showed up, her being a doctor just fit into the puzzle,” Derek said firmly, “I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell us she was your girlfriend and we could’ve moved on, you being so secretive about her is what made us think that there was something bad going on.”
“Well, there isn’t, except I have a pissed off girlfriend and a serial killer slashing women’s throats open, I don’t have time to pander to your feelings as well,” Spencer grumbled as Derek pulled up near the office again, he flung the door open and high-tailed out of the car, leaving Derek and Garcia in their seats gaping at each other.
He had dashed back inside the building; he couldn’t tell how close Derek and Garcia were behind him, but he was grateful they were far away enough to not catch the lift with him.
“Hey Reid,” Emily greeted him as he sulked back into the office, “where are Garcia and Morgan?”
Spencer shrugged, “they’re coming up now, they’ve got everyone’s food,” he mumbled, shuffling away to his desk.
“Okay…” Emily said, and shot JJ a concerned look.
Spencer sat down and stared blankly at the map in front of him. He was supposed to be working on the geographical profile, but his eyes blurred as he stared at the contour lines and he couldn’t make them refocus.
Derek and Garcia burst through the door minutes later.
“Lunchtime,” he called, as Garcia held the bag up above her head.
“Finally, I’m starving,” Emily groaned, making her way over to Derek to collect her lunch, “what’s going on with the good doctor?” she whispered under her breath, motioning with her head over to Spencer, slumped in his chair.
Derek hesitated, “we’re not entirely sure yet, I’ll let you know when I know,” he whispered back.
Emily nodded apprehensively and took her food from Garcia.
“I promise I didn’t eat all your fries,” she chirped, and Emily rolled her eyes.
The other team members came to collect their orders from Morgan and Garcia, all of them shooting concerned looks at Spencer. He dug his nails into his palms, the sharp twinge distracted him from everyone’s stares.
Spencer didn’t show any intention of coming to get his lunch, so Derek took the bag from Garcia and strolled over to Spencer’s desk. He dropped the bag down on top of the map.
“You wouldn’t answer me when I asked what you wanted, so I picked for you.”
Spencer didn’t look up, “hmm not hungry,” he said, twirling a pen in his hand.
“C’mon kid, I’m sorry Garcia and I implied that you were using again, but we’ve noticed you acting weird for a while and we thought that was the most plausible-”
“So, you thought it was more likely I was shooting myself up with dilaudid than it was that I had a girlfriend? Cos’ who would want to date me right?” he snorted.
“Spencer, you know that’s not what I meant, but you never gave any indication you were seeing someone, I thought if you were then you’d have mentioned it to at least one of us.”
Spencer curled his lip.
“So…why didn’t you mention anything?”
“Because…because we spend so much time together, and you all know so much about me I just wanted to have something that was my own,” he said hastily.
“Okay, I can understand that, so I won’t ask too many questions – I just want to know: does she treat you good? Does she make you happy?”
“Yes,” Spencer murmured.
“That all I’m gonna get, pretty boy?”
Spencer nodded stiffly, “for now.”
“Am I gonna get to meet her?” Derek asked softly.
“You did meet her.”
Derek rolled his eyes, “I mean properly, I would like to introduce myself as the guy who saves your ass on the daily,” he said, nudging Spencer’s shoulder gently.
He tried to fight the smile creeping onto his face, but failed, “you’re getting nowhere near her if you’re gonna lie like that.”
Derek chuckled and held up his hands, “okay, okay I get it – pretty boy’s gotta protect his reputation in front of his girl.”
Spencer gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded, he continued to twirl the pen in his hand, “something like that.”
“Guys, I think we might have something,” Hotch said, stepping out of the conference room with Garcia and Rossi close behind him.
JJ and Emily nodded, standing up from their desks to join him. Derek moved to follow but Spencer grabbed his arm quickly.
“You won’t say anything will you?” he asked nervously, “not until I’ve had a chance to talk to Veronica, at least. She’s got this fundraising gala for work tonight, and I don’t know when we’ll get home. We’re in the same state and we probably won’t get a chance to talk till this case is over,” he said miserably.
Derek nodded, “your secrets safe with me, pretty boy,” he said, clapping Spencer on the bag before sauntered away and up the stairs.
Spencer smiled, grabbed his lunch from his desk and followed.
***
Veronica drummed her nails against the table as they waited for their waitress to return with their drinks.
“You know I was going to say that it’s a bit early for the wine you just ordered but now I think you should’ve gotten a large,” April commented, watching how Veronica fidgeted in her seat.
“Yeah, well I figured I should start preparing early for this stupid gala,” she mumbled.
“Hey! Jackson has worked really hard organizing this, I think it’ll be fun!”
Veronica rolled her eyes, “you think going to the DMV is fun, so you don’t get much of an opinion here, Kepner.”
“It is fun!” April began but Veronica gave her a pointed look, “right...not about me. Veronica, what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird since you got to my apartment, and I know you’re not looking forward to the gala, but I don’t think that’s what’s on your mind.”
Veronica shrugged, “it’s Spencer, he-”
She was interrupted as their waitress returned, “okay! Diet coke for you, and a pinot griot for you,” she said, placing their respective drinks down in front of them, “are you ladies ready to order?” she chirped, Veronica wanted to roll her eyes at the perkiness radiating off of her, but reminded herself that she was just doing her job.
“I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad please!” April responded, matching the waitresses bright and bubbly demeanour.
Veronica tapped her foot against the floor, “I’ll have the double bacon cheeseburger with Cajun fries please,” she said, giving her best attempt at a smile.
“Excellent!” she said, taking their menus, “I’ll get that out to you soon as its ready.”
“Thank you!” April said, her voice sweet and sing-song-like, until the waitress had disappeared out of sight and she turned to glare at Veronica, “double bacon cheeseburger! You have a tight dress to wear tonight, do you want to be bloated?”
“April, I really don’t care,” Veronica said flatly, taking a large swig of wine from her glass.
April gaped at her lie a fish but quickly composed herself, “what did Spencer do that’s so bad he’s got you comfort eating and drinking?”
Veronica paused to take another gulp of wine before she answered, “it’s not what he did it’s what he didn’t do. First of all, he was supposed to come to the gala with me tonight and keep me from punching one of those rich, old, pervs in the throat but then he got called into work on a case – which sucks, and I’m upset he can’t come but like I can live with that, we get pulled into emergency surgeries all the time, so I get it,” she ranted, taking another sip of wine.
“But?” April prompted.
“But everything comes back to the same issues with us, he refuses to even tell his team about me. And these guys, April, they’re like his family! But they have no clue I even exist; he always says it’s because he’s a private person and he shares so much with them that he just wants to having something to himself…but more and more it just feels like he’s embarrassed by me.”
“Oh, Veronica,” April gushed, her voice dripping with sympathy, “I’m sure that’s not true, but it’s so easy to get in your own head about things like this, when Jackson and I were sneaking around I felt the same way.”
“Yeah, and then you got married,” she snorted.
“And then we got divorced.”
“Is this your way of telling me I should break up with Spencer?” Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No!” April said quickly, “I’m just saying that Jackson and I didn’t work out because we had too many fundamental differences, but you and Spencer aren’t like that, your problems are coming from external factors and they’re far easier to fix than internal ones. If you gave him an ultimatum, you introduce me to your team or it’s over, then I really doubt that he’s going to let you walk away.”
Veronica shook her head, “he’d know that’s an empty threat, I already told him I would never leave him.”
“When did you tell him that?” April demanded.
“About 20 minutes before I showed up at your place, he left his phone at my apartment, so I went to drop it off at his work but when I got there, he was coming out with two of his friends – I was right in front of them and he still didn’t want to introduce me. And I told him that I couldn’t break up with him, but I thought I love him more than he loves me.”
“And what did he say?”
“Well, then he said I should come to lunch with them, but it was so obvious that he didn’t really want that, he was just trying to cover his own ass,” she shrugged, “so I told him it was too late and then I left.”
“Why didn’t you go with them? Then you would have met them, and this would all be resolved,” April gaped at her.
“Because he didn’t want me there! Besides they don’t even get a proper lunch break, they were just going to pick up food for everyone else. I don’t want to meet my boyfriend’s closest friends in the 20-minute drive to Burger King and back,” she huffed, sitting back lazily, and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Have you tried explaining to him how he’s making you feel by doing this?”
“Only every time we fight, I say I’m sick of him not taking me to parties with his work friends cos’ he doesn’t want them to know about me, but the rest of the team has their partners there, so he just stopped going out with them all together. He would rather not see his friends outside of work than take me with him, you can’t try and tell me that’s not weird.”
April shook her head hesitantly, “no, I agree that its strange, but I’ve also met Spencer and I’ve seen first-hand how much he adores you, whatever is going on, I don’t think it’s because he’s ashamed of you.”
Veronica didn’t answer her. She didn’t have the energy to argue back, if there was another reason as to why Spencer was hiding her, she couldn’t figure it out.
Thankfully, the waitress returned with their food and interrupted April, who Veronica could tell was about to launch into some motivational speech. She took a huge bite from her burger, savouring the salty bacon and tangy tomato relish that made her feel instantaneously better.
April gave her a disapproving look as she delicately tucked into her salad, “I was going to say you need to eat quickly or we’ll miss our appointment, but I see you’re doing that all on your own.”
“We’ve still got another hour, chill out, Kepner.”
April rolled her eyes, “you’ve forgotten the plan, already haven’t you?”
Veronica froze, with a handful of spicy, Cajun fries in her mouth, “plan?” she questioned, her voice muffled.
“I told you yesterday, Veronica!” she whined, “we were going to get our hair done at the salon but now she’s going to come to Cristina’s apartment since its way closer to where the gala will be – so we need to drive back to your apartment to pick up your dress and makeup and then we’ll head to Cristina’s to get ready there.”
“Don’t we need to pick up your stuff too then?”
“No, because I was organized and put mine in the back of the car,” she said with a glare, “you did pick up your dress, right?”
“Yes, have some faith in me,” Veronica grumbled.
“You didn’t remember the plan! You could’ve just as easily forgotten to get a dress.”
“I’m pretty sure you never told me about the plan,” Veronica teased.
“I did!”
“When?”
“Yesterday, after you came out of surgery.”
“You told me after my 17-hour spinal cord tumour resection, and actually expected me to remember a word that you’d said?”
“Shut up and eat your burger,” April huffed, and Veronica chuckled as she took another large bite.
***
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in the passenger’s seat of the SVU, he was irritated. They had been chasing a lead since lunch and it hadn’t panned out, he and Derek were on their way back to the office now.
He turned down the radio; the music was so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. It was getting dark outside now, and the streetlights reflected off of the window he stared out of, the glare hurt his eyes. Spencer re-adjusted his bulletproof vest; it was tight and digging into his chest. He flicked on the AC; the car was too hot.  
“Hey kid, you wanna sit still for 5 minutes?” Derek mused.
“I’m just frustrated, I really thought we got him,” he grunted.
“I know me too, but everyone’s doing everything they can to catch him-”
“He’s escalating! He’s raped, killed and dumped two women since lunch, in broad daylight – everyone might be doing everything he can but that isn’t enough.”
“I know this isn’t an easy case, but we’ve dealt with things like this before and you never act out like this, so what’s going on? Is this about your fight with Veronica?”
“No! I mean…” Spencer dragged his hand through his hair, “it’s not about the fight but it is about her, all the women he’s killed so far sort of look like her – same hair and eye colour, same height and body type….”
“Spencer, we know he’s taking these women as surrogates for a Linda Johnson, it doesn’t have anything to do with her-”
“But he could take her, she’s with her friends right now, getting ready for this work thing. The second victim was at a party with friends when he took her, and she looked exactly like Veronica – they could’ve been sisters.”
Derek pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“W-what are you doing?” Spencer stuttered, “Hotch said he wants everyone back ASAP.”
“Hotch can wait,” Derek said sharply, “now listen to me kid, Veronica is gonna be just fine, she’s gonna be at some fancy, little party full of other doctors. We profiled that the unsub wouldn’t be able to blend into an environment like that, that’s why all his other victims were taken in nightclubs or back alleys. She will be fine, okay?”
Spencer didn’t answer.
“Kid, I need you to answer me so I know you’re still in there,” Derek said, nudging him, “I can see that brain of yours going into overdrive.”
“We profiled that the unsub wouldn’t be able to fit in with educated or upper-class groups because of poor social skills and lack of education…” Spencer began slowly.
“Right,” Derek agreed with him.
“And that’s why we went to Tommy Jones’ house, because he fits the profile, but his alibi checks out….”
“What are you getting at here, Reid?”
“It doesn’t make sense, all the women were taken from dive bars or dangerous areas, but they were all also upper class, well educated women – they wouldn’t just go off with someone who they thought was a threat….”
Derek nodded slowly, “…and we know he used some kind of a ruse to get them in his van because all of the victims had minimal defensive wounds.”
“Right, so our unsub would have to be someone these women would trust, and the psychology of implicit bias show that we are consciously and unconsciously more trusting of members of our perceived in-group,” Spencer added, “so what if our unsub is someone connected to Linda Johnson but from the same rich, ivy-league educated background as her.”
“Okay, but we already vetted all of Linda’s male family members, friends and boyfriends of friends – they’re all clear. And she’s still with her high-school boyfriend who’s been in California all week….”
“Call Hotch, Linda should still be at the office, maybe he can find a male from the same financial and educational background as Lisa who has since lost social status and lost touch with her, our unsub could be someone who has lost access to that kind of lifestyle and blames Lisa for it.”
“Okay kid, whatever you say,” Derek said, he grabbed his phone and dialled Hotch’s number, “hey Hotch, Reid thinks the unsub is someone who came from the same background as Lisa but has lost some kind of status and blames her for it, can you ask if anyone fits that description?”
Spencer looked on in anticipation, his heart hammering in his chest. Derek switched his phone to speaker-mode as Hotch came back.
“Morgan, I think we got something. Linda says her high school had a tutoring program, a boy called Phillip Davis used to help her with biology and chemistry, she always suspected he had a bit of a crush on her, but she never returned the feelings. He left the school when his father went bankrupt and he lost all their money, they haven’t spoken in years that’s why she never mentioned him.”
“Linda posted on Facebook that she’d been accepted for a master’s degree in biochemical sciences the day before the killings started, that could be the trigger if Davis feels he helped her enough with her studies to get into a master’s program, but she never showed any appreciation,” Spencer said nodding.
“And if he went to the same private school as Linda, he would have the social skills to fit in with other upper-class women,” Derek said.
“Good work Reid,” Hotch said, “you two are closet to his home address, Garcia’s already sent it to your phones, I’ll meet you there – JJ and Prentiss will check out his work address.”
“You got it Hotch,” Derek said before he hung up the phone and drove off again, “we’re gonna get him kid, don’t you worry.”
Spencer nodded, “I know, just I’ll relax better when he’s in handcuffs.”
“He will be soon.”
Spencer didn’t say anything as Derek raced along side-streets. He had flicked the sirens on as they overtook other cars, and they blared in Spencer’s ears. He switched them off when they pulled up outside Philip Davis’ house, he stared up at the dimly lit house for a second before he followed Derek in exiting the car.
His ears were ringing.
Derek was on the phone again, “yeah Hotch, we just got here.”
Spencer’s heart hammered against his ribcage. He yanked down his bulletproof vest again; it was really uncomfortable.
“Hotch says they’re five minutes out, he wants us to wait until they get here to go in,” Derek said and leant against the exterior of the car.
Spencer nodded but his heart seized in his chest; he didn’t think he could wait five whole minutes outside. He tapped his foot against the uneven concrete and peered up at the house.
A light flicked on in one of the upstairs windows.
“Morgan!” he hissed, “do you see that? He’s definitely in there.”
“I know kid, but Hotch says Lina told him that this guy is really aggressive, and Garcia confirmed he owns a whole arsenal of firearms. He just wants us to have backup before we go in, he’s bringing S.W.A.T as well.”
Spencer huffed, “why does it feel like we’re always just standing around waiting for S.W.A.T to show up?”
“Tell me about it, pretty boy,” Derek grinned, “they wouldn’t know how to be on time if-”
He was interrupted by a piercing scream that came from inside the house, Derek and Spencer instinctively grabbed their guns.
“That was definitely a woman,” Derek whispered, “but he didn’t bring any of the other victims back to his house, why her?”
“We’ve amped up the police presence all over the city and set up roadblocks, maybe he was starting to feel cornered, and didn’t want to be caught in the act – we can’t wait for backup any longer, we have to go in.”
“Yeah, I know,” Derek said, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Hotch, “okay kid, lets go,” he nodded at Spencer and began to advance towards the house, his gun held out defensively in front of him.
Spencer took a deep breath and followed him. He really wanted to text Veronica and let her know that he was okay for now, but that he and Derek were about to burst into an unsub’s house. Who apparently happened to a violent, gun fanatic.
Derek had kicked the door down, “Kevin Davis, FBI! Come down with your hands up.”
There was no response.
Derek silently motioned to the stairs and Spencer nodded, he followed as they crept across the hall. Derek looked back at him for approval before he began to slowly climb the stairs, Spencer readjusted his vest again before he followed.
The stairs creaked slightly under their feet; the house was a mess and they carefully stepped over clutter as they made their ascent. Derek had made it safely to the top landing when the first gunshots were fired.
He shouted something but Spencer couldn’t hear him, his voice overshadowed by the pulsing of blood in his ears. He was still stood on the top step; he didn’t have the clear view that Derek had of Kevin Davis emerging from a room with an assault rifle in hand.
Spencer’s ears were stilling ringing from the first round of warning shots.
“Kevin Davis, FBI – put the gun down,” Derek ordered, his own gun firmly fixed at the unsub, who only gave a twisted grin in response.
It all happened so fast.
The unsub was in the doorway to a bedroom when a young, disheveled woman burst out of it and sprinted past him and Derek to reach the staircase.
She was screaming the entire time.
And then the unsub was roaring curses after her.
She reached the top of the stairs where Spencer stood, he reached out a hand to help her, but she recoiled away from his touch and shoved him out of his way.
Derek was yelling something.
But Spencer couldn’t make it out because he was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, his body ached, and he couldn’t discern the screams from the woman from the sirens in the distance. Or Derek’s words from the unsub’s.
His ears were ringing, and his abdomen hurt.
The vest was digging into his chest again and he gasped for air; why couldn’t he breathe?
He grabbed his gun, which was only a few feet away from him and crawled onto his knees. Every shaky intake of breath left him with a sharp, stabbing pain in his side.
He tugged at his vest again.
Spencer gripped onto the banister of the staircase and used it as a support as he began to pull himself up. He hadn’t even fully unbent his knees when there was another loud gunshot, it echoed around the hall.
After that, everything started spinning and the ground swayed under Spencer’s feet.
There were more muffled yells from upstairs, and the wailing sirens were getting louder.
“The pitch of the sirens…its getting higher,” Spencer mumbled, to no one in particular, “it means they’re getting closer…the Doppler effect…” Spencer gasped for a breath and collapsed to his knees.
He didn’t wince as his kneecaps smashed against the hard tiles.
He couldn’t breathe, the stupid vest.
He was vaguely aware of black shapes moving around him as he lifted his hands to readjust his vest, when he pulled his hand away his fingers were slick with blood.
One of the black shapes was dragging him, away from the stairs.
Kevin Davis was in handcuffs, screaming as he was hauled past Spencer.
“Reid!” a voice called.
Spencer looked around, dazed. He couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
Someone was taking his vest off, he wanted to thank them, but the words wouldn’t come out.
He looked down at himself, and saw his pale, blue shirt soaked in blood.
Blood.
Spencer didn’t mind it in crime scenes, he had to stare at mutilated corpses all day and didn’t mind their blood.
This was his blood.
Something acidic was rising in his throat.
 And something was lifting him, heaving him outside. When the cool air hit Spencer, he felt it more than he had felt the bullet when it tore through his chest.
 Derek was hovering over Spencer; he waved a hand in front of his face, but his eyes were still glassy and unfocused. He was laid against the rough concrete; it was uncomfortable, and his spine dug into the hard surface. He could feel that dull ache in his side again.
 “Adrenaline…” he choked.
 “What are you talking about, kid?” Derek asked frantically.
 “Adrenaline, when the sympathetic nervous system is activated adrenaline kicks in and stops you from feeling pain,” he gasped.
 “Reid, save your energy okay – now isn’t the time for you to give me a fun science fact,” Derek said with a forced chuckle and sad smile.
 Spencer tried to shake his head, but he only succeeded in scrapping his scalp against the tarmac, “I’m telling you…because the adrenaline in my body is wearing off…it hurts,” he whimpered, screwing his eyes shut.  
 “Spencer! Spencer! You need to stay awake,” Derek was begging, “the ambulance will be here soon, I know it hurts but you gotta stay awake for a bit longer.”
 Spencer managed to muster up the strength to speak, “Derek?”
 “I’m right here, kid. We got him, we got the unsub – Hotch is taking him down to the station right now, and then he’s gonna meet us at the hospital with Emily, and JJ, and Rossi…so you gotta hold on, okay?”
 “Okay…” Spencer whispered; he was on his back staring up at the sky.
 The stars especially bright tonight.
 “Come on kid stay with me,” Derek pleaded as he held pressure on Spencer’s chest, “the ambulance is almost here, and we’re so close to the hospital - just hold on a bit longer.”
 Stars…that meant something to him, his brain was too foggy to recall what.
 “Did you know, that astronomers estimate that in our Milky Way galaxy alone, there are about 300 billion stars,” Spencer rambled as they walked along the street.
 It was dark, and stars sparkled like diamonds against the deep, velvety sky.
 “I didn’t know that, but I suppose you are the genius here for a reason,” Veronica grinned, his hand was wrapped around hers as she tugged him along.
 Spencer wasn’t looking at the stars anymore, he stopped in his tracks which caused Veronica to stop two steps ahead of him. He gently pulled her close to him, so she was pressed against his chest .
 “Veronica, I…I think that I’m in lo-”
Veronica.
 Spencer wriggled his arm as he tried to guide his hand to his pocket.
 “Hey, hey, hey don’t move,” Derek said, panicked, “you bleed more when you move!”
 Spencer fumbled around his pocket for his phone, he eventually managed to pull it out and held it out for Derek to take. The screen was decorated with droplets of blood which had transferred from his hand.
 Spencer couldn’t look at it; blood, its just blood, he told himself.
 “Veronica...” he gasped through short, jagged breaths, “call Veronica...” he said, his hand trembling from the strain of hold his arm up.
 Derek took the phone from him and shoved it in his own pocket, “okay, okay, when we’re in the ambulance I’ll call her,” he said, nodding.
 Veronica needed to know. He needed to make her understand why he had never introduced her to his team, she needed to know it wasn’t her fault. She needed to know that he wasn’t embarrassed of her, that he loved her more than anything, that he did want to be in this relationship.
 Spencer gave a weak smile, “tell her...tell her I...” Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut, and his face, previously screwed up with pain, went slack.
 Derek cursed under his breath as he put more pressure on the wound, he was already losing too much blood. The faint wails of sirens were growing louder until an ambulance pulled up next to Derek and a pair of paramedics dashed round to help him.
 “He just lost consciousness, I’ve been trying to stop the bleeding...” Derek said, he moved back to allow the paramedics in to help Spencer.
 They rolled him onto a stretcher and lifted him up into the ambulance, one of them ran back round to climb in the divers side whilst the other got in the back with Derek. He kept pressure on Spencer’s gunshot wound as the paramedic inserted an IV into his arm, supplying him with more blood. 
 “Here, let me take over. You sit back,” the paramedic said, motioning to Derek’s blood-soaked hands.
 He nodded and dragged his heavy arms away from Spencer’s body. He stared at his face, peaceful from the lack of pain, and pale from the lack of blood. 
 That’s when he remembered Spencer’s words, what could be his last words, call Veronica. Tell her I...
 Derek pulled Spencer’s phone from his pocket and unlocked it, he scrolled through his contacts app till he reached the ‘V’ section.
His finger hovered over Veronica’s name before he finally clicked on it. It rung and rung and rung. Derek’s heart seized in his chest - what if she didn’t answer? 
 Just as Derek thought it was going to go to voicemail, he heard a voice on the other side of the phone. There was loud music and chatter, but Derek could just make out Veronica’s voice.
“Spencer, I told you-”
 “Hi, Veronica,” his voice cracked, “it’s Derek Morgan, we met earlier today...”
read part 2 here 
if you enjoyed this please consider leaving a comment as it really keeps me motivated, and reblogging! i really appreciate likes but on the tumblr reblogs are the only way to get my work out there x
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Text
Timing
Poe Dameron x Genderneutral!Reader 
Summary: You are in love with your best friend Poe, your best friend Poe is in love with you. Is there a chance for you love even though you realize it at different times?
Warnings: Angst, might differ from canon (is there even a canon for what happened after ROS?) 
-------
It retrospect you should have known it was a bad idea. You knew Poe like the back of your hand, you should have anticipated his reaction. But he was leaving for a dangerous mission to Jakku the next day and you couldn’t bare the thought of never telling him how you felt. So you gathered all your courage and did it.  “Poe?”, you started.  The pilot, who was laying on his bed next to you, turned his eyes away from his datapad to face you.  “What is it, honey?”  The way he looked at you made your heartbeat quicken and your hands clammy. Even though he was tired, had dark rings under his eyes and his hair hadn’t seen a brush in weeks, he was the most handsome man you had seen in your life. Part of you knew that he had no reason to return your feelings, he could have anyone he wanted and more often than not invited various people to his room after a night of celebration while you prefered to stay in your quarters altogether. “I love you.”  The words rolled off your tongue as if you’d said them a thousand times before. You and Poe had never shied away from showing or voicing your affection for the other, not when you were kids on Yavin IV, not in the academy and not when you joined the resistance. But this time you tried your best to convey the word’s true meaning, to make him realize what you yourself had realized years ago, that there was no one else for you, that Poe was not your best friend, he was your soulmate, the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.  The man in question let go of his datapad to capture your hands in his. Gently he stroked your knuckles before pressing a soft kiss to them.  “I love you too.”  The way he said it made it obvious to you what he meant. You’re my best friend and I love you. Not You’re the one I have fallen for and I love you.  You shook your head. When you thought back to that day this was the moment you wanted to erase, the one you wished had never happened.  “No, Poe. I am in love with you.”  If he noticed the tremble in your voice he didn’t comment on it. Instead, fast as lightning, Poe sat up straight and looked at you, really looked at you.  “What?”  By now you knew that you had screwed up, but his reaction told you that he had understood you perfectly. It was disbelief that made him ask that question and you had no other choice than to repeat yourself.  “I am in love with you, Poe.”  His eyes darkened. You were looking for anger in them, maybe frustration, but all you found was fear and... regret?  “How can you say that? You’re my best friend, how can you say that you’re in love with me?”  You opened your mouth and closed it again. Poe knew, he had to know, that at least half of the Resistance had a crush on him, so why did it come as a surprise that the same went for his best friend, the one he spent more time with than anyone else?  “I... I just needed to tell you before tomorrow. You know how dangerous this mission is going to be and if anything were to happen I want to to know how loved you are.”  Finally Poe let go of your hands. He ran a hand through his dark curls, again and again. It was a nervous habit he had picked up from his father when he was a kid and usually you found it endearing, but today it only made you feel worse.  “Just forget it. Please. Let’s just watch a holovid or something and forget I ever said anything”, you begged. Tears were shining in your eyes and when the first rolled down Poe, his fingers gentle as ever, brushed it away.  “I think I’d rather go over the mission plan again”, he smiled at you and anyone who wasn’t his best friend might have found that smile convincing, but you knew better. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright?”  You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded. Of course you would see him off before his big mission, you always did. Just as you always spend the evening before the mission together, usually sleeping in the same bed, holding each other close in case... just in case. It had been things like that that had made you think that there was a chance that Poe felt the same way. The secret smiles he sent you, the small touches whenever you were within reach, the way he made it obvious to you that you came first, sometimes even before the Resistance.  Without another word Poe hurried out of your room. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him and you heard a soft beep that you realized he had been in such a hurry to get away from you that he had forgotten to take BB8 with him.  “You wanna go after him?”  Tears were now flowing from your eyes and there was a hiccup in your voice, which was surely the reason the droid decided to keep you company for a little while longer. 
-------
The next day Poe had already left when you arrived at the hanger, even though you were earlier than the agreed upon time.  When he returned you ran up to him. You had thought he was dead and even if he didn’t return your feelings, he was still your best friend. At least that’s what you thought.  You tried your best to hate Finn, but you just couldn’t. Yes, Poe had pretty much chosen him as his new best friend, but he was just so nice and kind and considerate, you couldn’t hate him. Besides, it was not Finn’s fault that you had been replaced. The first couple of month you blamed yourself., You shouldn’t have told Poe that you loved him, if you hadn’t nothing would have changed. Then you blamed Poe. You had never demanded that he loved you back, but you had been friends since before you could talk, how could he just throw all those years away? How could he refuse even your most innocent, most desperate, attempts at conversation?  No matter how mad you were at Poe, your love for him was unchanged. You saw him every day and he was as kind and brave and funny and handsome as ever, all the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place were still there.  Of course you were glad when the war ended and the First Order was defeated for all the right reasons, but part of you was glad you could leave the Resistance. They no longer needed you now that it was time to rebuild instead of fight.  If all your hope of Poe ever loving you hadn’t died long ago it might have rekindled when you said goodbye.  For the first time in forever he took time to actually talk to you. And though his hug seemed as warm and sincere as ever, you couldn’t believe his words.  “I’m sad to see you go, but I’ll visit soon.”  Of course you nodded, of course you hugged him back, but part of you know just how hollow his words really were. They had to be. 
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Poe felt bad for how long it had been since he last visited his father. Though Kes never complained, Poe knew the old man missed his son and wanted to see him more often. But there was just so much to do, so whenever he did visit it was usually spontaneous and never for more than a couple of hours.  He opened the front door, not bothering to knock. This was his home after all, even if he rarely ever visited.  The smells that greeted Poe were familiar; his mum’s favourite flowers that his dad always kept someone in the house, a freshly brewed cup of tea and something that smelled like a distant childhood memory.  Even though it should have been impossible, the sound he heard as soon as he stepped through the door was even more familiar. It send sparks flying through his body and made a grin spread on his face. Quickly he put a finger to his lips to tell BB8 next to him to be quiet.  It had been so long since he last heard your laughter. Sometimes at night he heard it in his dreams, saw your face along with his mum’s. The two women he loved more than anything, the two women he lost. Shara’s death hadn’t been his fault, but not a day went by that Poe didn’t blame himself for letting you go.  He had been too focused on the war, on saving people and making a better future to realize that the reason he fought, the person he wanted to spend his future with had been right beside him all along. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it when you told him that you loved him, why it had taken not having you in his life to come to the realization that he wanted you in his life, more than anything. And perhaps this was his chance.  He tried to be as quiet as possible on his way to the living room, but as soon as he entered both you and Kes turned around.  His father was the first to get up and envelop Poe in a hug.  “What a surprise. How are you? You must be hungry, can I get you anything?”  Poe declined the offer. Even if he had been hungry, his nerves wouldn’t have allowed him to swallow a single bite. He felt bad for basically ignoring his father, but how could he not when you were standing right there?  “(Y/N), it’s... You look...”  Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe you. Even covered in grease and sweat with only a couple hours of sleep you had been pretty, but now you had no circles under your eyes, your hair was shiny and looked just so soft and there was an aura around you that could only be described as peace and happiness. And though Poe was glad you seemed happy, it did sting a bit that you were so happy without him.  “It’s been a while”, you smiled. If Poe hadn’t been in love with you before that smile would have made him fall for you. In retrospect he had no idea how he had gone most of his life without being in love with you.  “I’ll let the two of you catch up. I should get to the kitchen anyway, Oscar should be here soon”, Kes declared and with an affectionate pad on his son’s shoulder he left the room.  Poe was so busy staring at you that it took him a while to process his dad’s words.  “Who is Oscar?”  The soft smile on your face grew bigger than Poe had ever seen it and a spark took hold of your eyes. He couldn’t categorize that expression, but he knew that he wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.  He only realized that he had gotten closer to you when he suddenly felt your body heat. He hadn’t meant to, but something about you pulled him in like a magnet. He reached out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, but the second he heard your word’s the hand fell.  “My husband.”  “Your... your... you’re married?”  Thoughts were chasing in Poe’s head. How could he not have known that you were married? How could you marry someone else when he was so in love with you?  Instead of an answer you simply raised your hand. There was a ring where, in his dreams, Poe had seen his mother’s ring countless times. It was fairly simple, and yet it seemed expensive. More expensive than anything Poe could ever have given you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, he finally asked after moments of silence.  You shrugged, a gesture that was so achingly familiar that it took Poe’s breath away.  “We weren’t really talking anymore.”  Of course you were right. Ever since you left the Resistance the two of you hadn’t spoken. Poe knew it was selfish of him to expect that you should have told him, should have invited him so he could have stopped the love of his life from marrying someone else.  “Oh...”, was all he was able to say.  He should have know that you wouldn’t be in love with him forever, but it hurt even more learning that you were married the day he had planned on telling you that he was in love with you. It had taken Finn and Rey months of trying to convince him to just tell you, after all you lived on Yavin IV, so it’s not like he had to see you every day if you didn’t return his feelings, he could have just left and tried to move on. Maybe, he thought, that was the very reason you had moved on, because you never saw Poe anymore. If only he had visited you as well as his dad, if only he had begged you to stay when you decided to leave, if only he had realized how he felt when you confessed your love.  “Your dad invited us to dinner, so you’ll meet Oscar when he arrives in half an hour. He’s still at work right now, but-”  “I can’t stay”, Poe cut you off. It hurt knowing that you were married and seeing your love for your husband in your eyes, but Poe knew that seeing the two of you together would break him.  “Another time then”, you said with a soft smile. A smile Poe just wanted to kiss off your lips but never could.  When you hugged him goodbye he breathed in your familiar smell, but underneath that there was a slight hint of a cologne that must be your husband’s. In a single second memories rushed through Poe’s brain.  You wearing his shirt and laughing.  You falling asleep in his arms.  You hugging Shara and Kes before the two of you left for the academy.  And the image that haunted his dreams of you with a baby in your arm, BB8 at your feet and Shara’s ring on your finger.  Poe didn’t know how you had managed to survive after he had rejected you because he felt like he was drowning.  He barely heard his father’s soft “I’m so sorry, son” or your “We’ll need to catch up soon”.  It wasn’t until he was in hyperspace that tears starting rolling down his cheeks and neither the stars flying by nor BB8′s comforting beeps could make him feel better.  At least you were happy, that was the only thought that brought him any comfort. 
-------
Once again I should just finish my other stories before writing a new one, but this idea was just begging to be written. 
I might write a second part, if anyone would want to read it, though I’m not sure yet. 
Also please excuse that I couldn’t come up with a better name for the husband, but I guess the reader just has a type. 
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butteraway · 3 years
Text
when time runs out | ii
⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: small mentions of suicide (I’ll put a star ‘⋆’ on top and below the paragraph so you can skip over it if your uncomfortable, you won’t miss anything too important so dont worry!)
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"Bro, honestly I still can't believe that you of all people made it into the elite, number one hero school in the country."
"Waahh, I'm telling you! I'm the real deal Y/N!"
"So, how's your summer been? School's gonna be starting soon, are you excited?" Denki could only smile and sigh as his character was finally killed off.
Said girl chuckled as she heard Denki's voice rise through her headphones as they continued killing zombies in front of them. She grimaced as a zombie attacked her from behind her character. Geez, I never get a break in this game.
"Well, to be honest, nothing big really happened besides me getting my acceptance letter from U.A. Just me training and hanging with the fam." He laid back in the comfort of his bed, headphones still on in order to hear his cousin.
"Aah, already training, hero boy? That's why you haven't been visiting me lately." Y/N pouted and crossed her arms as her TV screen turned black, returning her to the main page of the game.
"Man, we suck at this game!" Denki laughed out loud as he saw how long they lasted in the last round. Y/N smiled and let out a small giggle of her own as she placed down her controller.
"Yeah, how long have we had this game for? It still feels like it's our first time playing this." Denki cracked a smile, even though Y/N couldn't see him.
"Hey, sorry for not being able to come to the hospital. Getting ready for U.A. is no joke, haha." Denki rubbed the nape of his neck, eyebrows scrunching up with regret. 
"Nah nah, it's fine! I understand that you have things to do. You have big plans for the future." Y/N brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, looking down at the needles that were plunged into her arms. Her eyes were clouded with an emotion she often felt when talking with Denki. She always felt guilty whenever the feeling came around.
"Must be nice to be able to achieve your dreams." Jealousy. She hated the feeling she got every now and then, but you couldn't really blame her. She lost everything in only a couple of months. Silence passed between the two teenagers, Y/N finally realizing what she said.
"Uh s-sorry about that! I didn't mean to say that alou-" Y/N was cut off by Denki's soft voice.
"Y/N, it's... okay to feel like that. I don't understand what you have been going through, but I know that you shouldn't bring yourself down for something you can't control. You're such an amazing person and to be honest. . ." Denki paused as Y/N's eyes began to glaze over.
"I'm doing this for me and you. You always encouraged me to take any opportunity by, as you like to say, the neck. I-I wanna make you proud, y'know? I wanna make it feel like you're a part of this crazy world, even if you're not really here, walking with me through it all."
Y/N’s lips wobbled as she let out a watery laugh. She hunched over, small tears falling down her face. To someone else, this would've boosted their ego, but to Y/N, those words meant the world to her. No one had ever said that to her before. She felt like she had a purpose in this wretched life of hers. She sniffles were heard by Denki
"H-hey! It's okay, p-please don't cry!" Y/N heard shuffling coming from Denki as he reassured her to not cry.
"I mean it. I only wish you could be there though, it would be so much cooler!" Denki smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. Y/N's sniffles slowly quieted down as she let out a soft laugh that made his heart swell with joy. At least he can make her laugh.
"I'm s-sorry, but no one has ever told me t-that." Small hiccups came from the girl as she calmed down, taking deep breaths to slow her heart rate. Won't want doctors to come rushing in just to see her crying over something so small.
"I-I'm just really happy you said that." Denki's heart clenched at those words, his chin trembling every now and then. He knew that Y/N wasn't happy with where she was. She had even admitted that she had urges to rip out the needles and slowly lose her life from there. Denki spent the rest of that night talking to her after. To say he was concerned was an understatement. He was terrified when she told him.
"I think us being able to play games together is already enough!" They both laughed and talked for a couple of minutes before deciding to to hang up. 
"Y/N, I mean it when I say I want you to be happy, okay? I hope you feel better tomorrow. Buh-bye!" Y/N said her goodbye to Denki, hanging up and closing the laptop that sat on a movable table. 
Her smile slowly left her face, leaving her staring blankly at the pure white wall and mirror in front of her. When visitors were gone, her window would turn to a mirror so no one would disturb her. Y/N took a good look at herself and only sighed. Despite being as healthy as she could get, she looked a bit on the thin side, this complimenting her skin. Running a hand through her hair, she untangled the little knots that had formed there.
"Geez, what happened to you girl? You look like a zombie." Y/N looked at the zombie game and cringed.
"Literally."  Just then the door to her room opened and shut quickly, the air filter turning on when a female doctor entered. Y/N watched her carefully as she checked the IV that connected to her arm. The protective suit never made Y/N feel better about her condition.
"Are you alright, Ms. L/N?" The light, stern voice rang through her ears as she looked at the woman in front of her. Y/N gave the doctor a grin.
"Never been better."
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It had been an hour since the doctors had turned the lights off, but Y/N didn't feel the slightest bit of exhaustion. She had been sitting in the pitch black room for the time being and was really debating on turning on the TV.
"Ahh, fudge it." Instinctively reaching out for the remote, she turned on the TV and winced as the bright light hit her.
Looking back to the screen, she chose the option of going online and waited for other players to join. While waiting, a new character popped up next to her and she could only smirk at their username. Tapping on her mic, she decided to make conversation with them to see if they also had a mic.
"Now, what to play. What to play..." Y/N had settled for playing OverWatch since she didn't feel like playing any story type games. No cliffhangers tonight, Y/N thought. As the game loaded, she laid back and began thinking about cheesecake. When was the last I ate strawberry cheesecake? Great, now I want some. Thinking about eating cheesecake made her excited about the next day.
"Well hello, dear ol' '​​​​​King Explosion Murder_1.' Nice name you got there." Y/N chuckled as she said the name out loud, seeing another player enter.
"Hello 'Tape Dispenser?' What's with the wack name?" The girl’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at their name, hearing the user chuckle through her headphones. '​​​​​​King Explosion Murder' still had yet to reply, but that didn't bother her. They're either using the bathroom or don't have a mic. 
"The name was inspired by my quirk. But what's up with '_DeathGirl_', huh? You good?"  Y/N could only laugh at what he said. She should really send him a friend request.
"I’m honestly great, a little tired, but great! I just gotta make up a name, y'know? But your quirk has to do with tape? I don't know if that's wicked or useless." The boy laughed while Y/N laughed as well, losing her grip on her controller. That was until a gruff voice interrupted their laughing session.
"Shut the fuck up, your annoying ass voices are giving me a damn headache." Finally, after being silent, 'King Explosion Murder_1' spoke up.
"Aah, so you do talk. I don't know why you didn't say anything sooner Mr. Explosion Murder." The other player could only sneer at what she said, hitting his desk with his fist. Another player had joined, Y/N only noticing.
"Ah, hello 'Sleep Deprived Controller!'" Said player made their character wave, making Y/N chuckle. While they had their interaction, 'King Explosion Murder' was shouting at her, now realizing that she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying.
"Hey! Listen to me when I'm fucking talking to you, emo bitch!" Y/N’s eyes widened, soon rolling her eyes, watching the game load as they were placed into a match. What's his damn problem?
"Hey man, no need to go calling people names now." 'Tape Dispenser' nervously chuckled as he heard the other player growl. Y/N sported a shocked face as she heard this. What is he, a dog??? 
"Outta this conversation, extra!" Tape dude could only deadpan at what he was just called. Who calls people extras?? I’m not an extra, in fact I think I’m- 'Sleep Deprived Controller' listened with an annoyed expression on their face, wishing they could shut their shouting teammate up. Damn, wish I actually had a mic.
The game began as all the players separated, going their own way to kill their enemies. Everyone was in the zone, getting items and yelping every now and then if they were attacked. The first to go down was 'Tape Dispenser', then 'Sleep Deprived Controller', leaving both Y/N and 'King Explosion Murder' left on their team. Y/N smirked at their winning team, only one player was left on the other team. Just as the game was going to end, the opposing player shot down 'Explosion Murder', killing him.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-" His mic cut off, causing the two players with mics in a cackling mess. Y/N calmed down, remembering she was still playing, trying to hunt down the last player. Finally, after many curses by a certain player and cheering from another, she located her enemy. 
"You better fucking win this or I'll kill you." Knowing he didn't mean that last part, she only focused on the first part. You better win this. Those words echoed through her head as she stopped aiming for the player. She hated being told what to do.
"Ah, so you're one of those people." Not knowing what she meant, they only watched with wide eyes at what she did. Y/N jumped down next to the enemy, shooting them twice with her weakest gun, signaling them that she was there. Quickly, the other player shot her character down, killing her. They lost the game.
"THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! WE COULD'VE FUCKING WON!" Explosion Murder wasn't taking defeat easily like the other two were. Y/N could only give a grunt of disapproval towards the loud player.
"Ha, why did you just give up right there? You could've easily killed him." Tape Dispenser was just as confused as the other two players, slightly disappointed at the loss. Y/N sighed as she rubbed her forehead.
"Sorry not sorry, but this dude really thought he could get away with telling me what to do. I'll make my move when I'm ready, sorry to disappoint you guys." She sighed as she rubbed her neck, ready to hear the disapprovals of her teammate. But what she heard and saw made her smile.
"Nah, it's fine. It can get a tiny bit annoying with Murder yelling in your ear." Tape Dispenser reassured her, with Sleep Deprived's character giving her a thumbs up. Though, the annoyed sigh caught her attention back to him. Her eyebrow twitched. What is it now?
"I'm done with this fucking sappy shit scene. I'm out." Those were Murder's last words before he disconnected, leaving them in an awkward silence before Y/N stifled a giggle.
"I have a feeling that won't be the last time I'm seeing him." Tape Dispenser chuckled while Sleep Deprived's character shook their head, making Y/N softly laugh. After sending friend requests to both people, she bid them both fair well and left.
Y/N turned off her console and tv, putting the controllers on the table near her. She laid down in the comfort of her bed, thinking about her interactions with the people she met. She smiled, closing her eyes and drifting into a dreamless slumber with only one thought in mind. 
King Explosion Murder is such a weird name.
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zodiyack · 4 years
Text
Opposites Attract; Act III
Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female!Pierce/Petrova!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, angst
Words: 1,101
(Series) Summary: The younger sister of Katherine was the true owner of Damon’s heart, Katherine only being his worry in 1864 due to the sister’s bond, the bond that fueled Katherine to force Y/n to join her when she escaped Mystic Falls and left Damon to think they were both in the tomb.
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Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @lady-salvatore​, @sana-li​, @lawlerek​, @caseysalvatore, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @thecraziestcrayon​, @thewarriorprincessxo​, @agustdpeach​, @yolobloggers​, @tranqs-main-mami​
Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist
Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.
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“Damon, have you ever considered that she’s maybe just not interested in you?”
“Yep. But then I remembered, oh what, the thousands upon thousands of times she told me she loved me.”
“Katherine told me that. Turns out, she didn’t.”
“That’s the thing. Katherine’s a bitch. Y/n isn’t.”
Stefan and Damon had been making small talk for the past hour or so. In reality, their small talk was just things they felt the need to rant about. Katherine and Y/n being one of the larger topics.
“I thought you guys stopped fighting about Y/n five hours ago?” Elena groaned from behind, trudging slower than the vampires due to the extra weight on her back. Damon dropped off his backpack, Stefan picked it up, but then the argument started and Stefan gave it to Elena to hold. “Can someone please take this from me already?”
They continued walking, surely regretting their lack of car by the tenth ankle cramp, and rarely found rest. It was like the boys forget they were traveling with a human, who needed rest, to breathe, to get the proper hydration and food that they didn’t stop to get.
The trio ended up giving up for the night, pursuing their mission once again after well deserved, and needed, rest. However, Katherine seemed to find them before they could journey to find her. She looked so similar to her doppelganger by design, and Damon fell for it. He found joy in her trickery though.
If she was here, it meant Y/n was as well.
So the next time she showed up attempting to fool previous acquaintances, he had a plan. “Where’s Y/n?” He asked, voice dripping with false sweetness. Funnily enough, he had her choked against the wall.
“Kinky.”
Dropping her as his face scrunched in disgust at the thought, he continued questioning her. “Katherine. Your sister. Where is she?”
“Somewhere. Why do you want to know?”
“Why is it any of your business?”
Katherine’s playfully mischievous exterior morphed into something new, yet something Damon recognized himself wearing quite often. “Answer,” her hands grasped the collar of his jacket, shoving him against the wall just as harshly as when he did, “the” she shoved against the wall,” damn,” another shove, “question, Salvatore!” She finally tossed him aside.
“It’s none of your business, Pierce.”
“She’s my sister. I can assure you, it really is.” Katherine’s eyes subtly darted around for a weapon.
“Then you should know we fancied one another. So, really, it isn’t.”
She lunged for Damon, all chances of making up going out the window with their bodies. The shattered glass cut at their skin but healed faster than the window ever would. The two rolled around, violently scratching and clawing, punches were thrown here and there but with their positions, it was a little harder to do anything but pull as hard as they could on the other’s locks.
As Damon stood up, he pulled a few strands of the woman’s hair from his fingers, eliciting an inhuman growl from her. “What? It’s not like I killed your best friend?”
“That’s my freaking hair.”
“Yep, looks like it.”
Katherine speeded forward, hands snatching onto Damon’s dark locks and pulling him backwards before throwing him, hands still in his hair, up and over her shoulder. When he recovered, she was back on track and kicking him just as much as she was punching him.
Their fight continued. Dramatic grunts and groans of pain could be heard with the painful sound of skin connecting with skin in the quiet night. Damon swore this was the one time he didn’t like that sound as much as he usually did.
Stefan and Elena were gone, and Damon had never wished for their return as hard as he did now. Katherine was tied with him in the pain department; both had bruises and scratches, that were healing rapidly, but no one was stronger or causing more hurt than the other. It was a never-ending cycle. A curse of the “gift” they bore.
Somehow, the world heard him, slightly. “Stop!” A voice, a familiar one at that, shouted. It broke the patterned noises, catching their attention instantly.
“Y/n?” Damon’s eyes widened and his fists dropped.
Katherine looked at her sister, then back to Damon, the furious expression having yet to leave her face. “Y/n. Go back. You shouldn’t be here-”
“Neither should you. I promised to stay with you as long as you didn’t hurt him. If you wish to break your promise, you shan’t expect me to keep my end either. Now we leave, or I’ll fight too.”
“I mean, if you want too. See Damon, she doesn’t actually love you.” Katherine laughed. She turned back to her sister. “Damon’s already pretty weak, we could-”
“No. Not with you. Against you. If you would like to hurt Damon, expect me to hurt you in return.”
Despite his surprise to the love of his life suddenly appearing as if she were his guardian angel or something, Damon felt a smug smirk pry at his lips. The more Katherine stuttered in disbelief, the more prideful Damon felt, his ego being boosted with little work on her part.
“I- but- ...fine.” The doppelganger sighed. She glared at Damon, who smiled mockingly as he wiggled his fingers in goodbye. “This isn’t over, Salvatore.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he continued waving with faux kindness, “evil bitch.” The smile on his face wasn’t a farce, however, far too delighted by witnessing Katherine as she was bested by her sister.
He didn’t return to the house after she began to walk away. Instead, he stayed to listen to the sisters.
“Don’t look back.” Katherine ordered.
“But-”
“I’m doing this for you. If it were my choice, he’d be staked by now. Now do us both a favor and forget about his sorry ass.” She paced forward, picking up the speed and leaving her sister to dwell in her commands, the harsh barks sinking into her heart, filling it with more sorrow than it already held.
Damon felt his heart pang as the sound of Y/n’s tears and sniffles filled his ears. He thought she truly hadn’t felt a thing for him when Katherine’s remarks about the two proved it might’ve been false all along, but her actions that very night proved both vampires wrong as well as made his undead heart beat for what felt like the first time in forever.
Katherine clearly had her limits, losing her sister being the threat that could reunite the couple had he planned it correctly.
Fortunately, Damon loved his evil planning.
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Text
Smoke & Mirrors - part 3
Neil x Reader
Chapter 3: You know me too well
(see chapter 2, 1)
summary: The mission. And some blowing off steam after that.
warnings: alcohol mention, some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT EVEN MORE THAN BEFORE
author’s note: I need to thank @vaneilla​ for planting the karaoke scene into my head. I found her choice of song absolutely glorious, and it evolved into... oh, see for yourselves.
As for everything else - I don’t even know.
4k words, bloody hell.
Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?
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___
“Thanks for nothing, Wheeler.”
She looked up from her tablet only to see a completely resigned Ives faceplanting on the couch in front of her. As she raised a brow, her glance drifted to The Protagonist pacing back and forth next to the window. 
When TP noticed the question in Wheeler’s eyes, he sighed. She realized that Ives must have filled him in already.
As if he could read her thoughts, the boss said, “Apparently, they’ve been at each other’s throats all day”
“You’re both damn lucky you don’t have to deal with their bullshit out there,” groaned Ives into the pillows.
Wheeler shook her head and a corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smile. 
“A little patience, guys. It's all going according to plan."
Ives muffled huff was enough of a comment, but TP stopped his pacing and shot her a confused look.
"How so?"
Wheeler bit her lip. It took her one minute around them in the canteen to guess what had happened. But if that somehow wasn’t obvious to her colleagues, she was in no place to share the information.
Of course, for a second she was tempted to say “oh, they fucked”,  just to watch Ives’ and TP’s reaction, but she knew better than to do so. Moreover, she had a weird feeling that those two morons would start being weird around them, and that wouldn’t help in the slightest. 
“Trust me, they are close to figuring it out. And then-...”
----------------
You rushed to the next cover, sending a round into a merc running in your direction. As you slid behind a crate and started reloading your rifle, the rest of the squad slowly made their way through the abandoned apartment complex. How all those mercenary groups kept getting their hands on inverted materials was beyond you, but as the boss was trying to figure it out, it was up to the ground teams to secure the cargo. 
"What's with the silent treatment today?" Neil’s voice rang in your earpiece. 
Your eyes quickly located him at the other side of the corridor. Even from a distance, you could see his raised brow as he glanced at you right before heading into the next room. 
"I'm focused on the mission,” you scoffed, checking out on the team before moving further ahead. “You should try that one day." 
As soon as you entered a new location, a bullet whizzed past you and your reflexes kicked in. A quick shot and you spun on your heel, hiding behind a pillar. 
Meanwhile, Neil glued his back to the wall. As another merc walked past him, he disarmed them in one swift move, tossing the gun away.
"Nah, I’m good,” he said casually. You watched him as he ducked under a fist flying at his face and threw a kidney punch himself. “Multitasking." 
You snorted, quite amused, jumping out of your cover to down two more men coming in. You caught Ives’ murderous glare as he moved past you, motioning you to keep up the pace. Nodding, you followed him into a staircase.
"I must admit, not hearing your voice almost made me forget how annoying you are,” you huffed through comms to Neil. Ives shot the merc waiting for you around the corner and you moved up. “And as I don't believe you can actually stop being annoying,” you continued, taking a position at the door, “but how about you don't talk to me ever again instead?" 
You heard footsteps behind you and as you looked over your shoulder, you saw Neil standing right there with his pistol cocked in his gloved hands. He leaned in, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"And lose that spiteful edge to sex we have going there?" he teased quietly and chuckled as your eyes widened at the audacity.
Wishing you could just shoot him in return, you turned away and entered the corridor. Ives waited for you at the door to another unfinished apartment and as soon as you reached him, he blasted through it, while Neil and his team took the door at the other side of the hall.  
"We, and I cannot stress this enough, do not have anything going there, blondie," you uttered through gritted teeth, sweeping through the rooms.
Sharp laughter resonated in your earpiece. 
"Sure sounds like someone needs round two, though."
Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the events of that late evening in the locker room. Neither of you has mentioned it for the last couple of days, and you kinda hoped it would stay that way. Not that you could ever erase it from your memory. And the worst part was, there were moments you were no longer sure you would ever want to.
A movement in the corner of your eye. 
That confusion might keep you up at night, but with daylight, you came back to your senses, and a little remark was not enough to cloud your lightning reflexes while you held a gun. A shot echoed through the room and another merc dropped to the ground. 
"In your dreams," you scoffed on your way back to the corridor. 
"Funny you should say that…" 
You noticed Neil walking into the line of fire in the last second.
“Watch out!” you shouted, grabbing him by the vest and pulling him back inside the apartment. You shoved him against the wall and pressed your forearm to his chest to keep him in place as the round meant for him cut through the now empty hallway. While the rest of the team returned fire and pushed forward, you caught a glimpse of fear in the blue eyes just before Neil managed to compose himself. The corner of his lips twitched into a nervous version of his usual half-smile.
For fuck’s sake...
“Well, this brings back fond memories,” he panted, raising an eyebrow.
You flashed your teeth and pressed him to the wall even harder. 
“Shut up and focus, goddamnit, or I swear I will let you walk straight into the next rain of bullets,” you fumed. 
Your serious glare made Neil gulp and nod slowly. You took a step back as you exhaled shakily. 
Readjusting the rifle’s strap, you shook off any remains of panic from your system. Neil watched you with an indecipherable expression on his face as he reloaded his pistol. You met his eyes, just to make sure he was good to go. Finding there what you were looking for, you smacked his arm lightly and ran towards the sounds of combat.
You joined your squad, focusing on providing support as you closed in on the final location. Neil rushed to the front of the action, and even from afar you could see his moves got more vicious, every blow and shot landing now with deadly precision. For a second you wondered what exactly got triggered inside of him back there.
Whatever that was though, it wasn’t enough to hold his tongue for too long.
"Hey, at least now you had a chance to slam me against a wall."
You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically, already regretting saving his infuriating ass. 
“You know, I daydream about strangling you more and more often every day.”
A few shots later, the all-clear sounded through the earpiece. You moved to secure the exit as Ives checked the contents of the crates in the back of the room. 
Neil took a position right next to you, eyeing you curiously.
“Is it a threat or a promise?”
Seeing the familiar roguish sparks sent your blood boiling.
You narrowed your eyes, letting a sly grin on your face.
“Do you really wanna find out?”
“You two either kill or fuck each other already,” huffed Ives, walking by you with the most done expression you’d seen on him in years. “Whatever you decide, please keep it off comms, eh?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to blush furiously. Neil’s failed attempt at stifling an amused giggle wasn’t helping in the slightest. 
As you finally looked back at the bane of your existence, he tilted his head, biting his lip before speaking up again, and somehow you knew exactly what he was about to say.
“I’m up for whatever.”
You groaned.
...yep, that was it.
----------------
One of the teams’ unwinding rituals included going to the nearby pub for drinks and karaoke. You weren’t the biggest fan of singing in public yourself and no amount of alcohol could change that, but you never skipped the opportunity of watching your squadmates getting shitfaced and pouring their hearts out through the mic. That night was no different, and even though you were taking it easy with drinking, the rest of the crew was already deep in the party mood. 
You watched Wheeler singing Black Velvet from your spot at the counter. You used to spend much more time together, but she’d got designated to leading inverted teams and you got stuck at Ives’ squad. Not that you were complaining. 
You always had good banter with him, and even the unfortunate beginning of your relationship wasn’t enough to change that. You ended up being good friends and you knew he always had your back no matter what. Even when he was absolutely tired of your bullshit. 
You cringed at the memory of his comment earlier that day. 
And because the universe wasn’t done with tormenting you just yet, you felt Neil’s presence next to you. You turned your head and glanced at him, ready to meet his aggravating stare. To your surprise, you found him standing there with his eyes fixed on his drink instead, evidently having an internal battle with himself. 
Neil noticed your puzzled expression and took a big sip from the glass before looking at you. A sheepish smile on his lips was something new, and it only made you even more confused.
“Hey,” he said, raking the fingers through his hair. “Thank you. For earlier.”
“Don’t mention it,” you huffed, frowning slightly.
“It’s nice to know you have my back, just in case.”
You were annoyed that he was making such a big deal out of it. But there was something in the blue eyes that softened your gaze and you gave Neil a reassuring smile.
“Of course,” you said and cleared your throat. “Besides,“ - a corner of your lips twitched - “I couldn’t let you get killed in such a stupid way right under my nose, I wouldn’t want it to taint my next eval’.”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “No other reason?”
“Like what?” 
You regretted asking the question as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course, Neil’s eyes lit up in response and he smirked.
“You would miss me.”
"Ah, there it is," you snorted, fighting the urge to punch him. "For a moment I was scared I was starting to like you, thanks."
He chuckled. “Oh no, we wouldn't want that now, would we," he teased, leaning your way with a roguish smile.
You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the heart fluttering in your chest.
Neil hummed and downed his drink. A mischievous spark in his eyes suddenly made you nervous. 
“What now?” you asked, dreading the answer already.
Neil’s expression was nothing but innocent. 
“I believe it’s my turn.” 
You watched him make his way to the mic. Letting out a deep sigh, you shook your head. 
That man was going to be the death of you one day.
You finished your drink and joined the rest of the team in the booth right in front of the makeshift scene. As soon as you sat down, a familiar song started and your widened eyes darted at Neil, who was just casually adjusting the rolled-up sleeves of his striped shirt. 
...it must have been a mistake.
His wicked grin as he met your horrified gaze was enough to tell you he knew exactly what he was doing.
He started singing with no hesitation, smiling to himself.
Under the lovers sky
Gonna be with you
And no one's gonna be around 
Neil’s eyes fixed on you and he raised a brow. A small incoherent noise escaped your mouth, luckily drowning in your squad’s encouraging whooping.
If you think that you won't fall
Well just wait until
'Til the sun goes down 
You met Wheeler’s amused look over the table.
“Why is he that way?” you whined, hiding your face in your palms. 
Underneath the starlight, starlight
There's a magical feeling so right 
You could hear the smile in his voice and you forced yourself to glance back at Neil. 
it will steal your heart tonight 
Catching your eyes again, he winked, making you exhale sharply in response.
You can try to resist
Try to hide from my kiss
You thought about the way you evaded his kiss at that locker room and your chest tightened at that memory.
Don't you know, don't you know
That you, can't fight the moonlight
He knew the song by heart, and you couldn’t wrap your head around that fact.
Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart
But you know, but you know that you
And by the way he commanded everyone’s attention, you saw it wasn’t his first performance. 
Can't fight the moonlight. No
His voice was clear and he was definitely having fun up there.
You can't fight it
...too much fun, if anybody asked you.
It's gonna get to your heart
He walked up to the booth and a spike of panic flashed in your brain.
There's no escaping love
He made his way to Ives, a mischievous grin lighting his face.
Once the gentle breeze
Neil ran a finger along your friend’s bearded jaw, leaving Ives frozen in shock. 
Weaves a spell upon your heart
Neil turned to you and your breath hitched as you realized what was about to happen.
No matter what you think
A few steps more.
It won't be too long
He stopped right in front of you.
'Til you're in my arms
He leaned your way, putting a finger under your chin and tilting it up gently.
Underneath the starlight, starlight
He moved even closer, his eyes wandering along your features.
We'll be lost in the rhythm so right
The emphasis on the last words combined with the look on his face made your mind go blank.
Feel it steal your heart tonight
...that was clearly his plan for the night, huh?
You forced yourself to start breathing again as Neil chuckled through the next line. 
Bloody hell, you hated the effect he had on you. 
You caught a glimpse of a smug smile before he turned away. Leveling your breath, you watched as he stepped back on the stage, hoping he wouldn’t have any other stupid ideas.
But Neil seemed to be satisfied with what he’d put you through and just continued the song. 
He even aimed for one of the high notes, scrunching his nose and giggling as his voice wavered for a second, and you couldn’t stop your lips from curling at the sight. There was something endearing in his joyful demeanor out there, and you wondered how many sides to him you had yet to discover.
Before you had a chance to get too soft, he finished singing and looked at you again. The dark shade in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. 
You needed another drink. Stat.
At least he had enough decency to let you collect yourself before he joined you at the bar. Neil ordered a vodka tonic and leaned his back against the counter, eyeing you curiously.
“So?”
You stifled a giggle, shaking your head. “For a second I thought you might start dancing on the counter."
He laughed at the reference.
"And for a second, I thought about doing that,” he said, reaching for his drink. He smiled slyly at your amused snort and continued, lowering his voice slightly, “but I didn't want you to lose your mind. Or faint, for that matter… I want you conscious for later."
Neil took a sip from the glass, savoring the effect of his words on you as you stared at him with a slack jaw.
"You want me--"
"Yes." 
You blinked rapidly, composing yourself. The last thing you needed was to give him the satisfaction of making you flustered so easily. 
But you couldn’t resist playing his game even for a moment. 
Just to see if he would back down.
"And what is it exactly that you think it's gonna happen later?" you said, taking a step in his direction. 
Neil raised a brow, turning your way. His gaze flared up as he searched your eyes for your intentions, moving even closer to you.
"Spoilers.”
"Riiight,” you smirked. The rising temperature between the two of you was slowly hazing over your mind, making your breath shallow as you taunted, “Or maybe you're all talk."
The throaty chuckle sent the heart racing in your chest. 
"Want to try me?" he teased, grazing his knuckles against your bare arm, and it took all your resolve not to tremble at the sensation. 
The pulse pounded in your ears as you took his drink from his hand, finishing it in one swing. You looked into his eyes, dark and yearning, and a corner of your lips curled.
"Well, no need to wait 'til the sun goes down', anymore."
“Blimey.”
A few moments later, you found yourself in an empty restroom, tugging at Neil’s shirt until your back hit the cold wall. His wicked grin widened at your eagerness as he grabbed your waist with one hand, running the other one through your hair. You splayed your palms on his heaving chest, moving them up to his neck to pull him closer. 
Neil tilted his head and leaned in to kiss you, but just as your lips were about to meet, your whole body tensed and it was enough to make him stop instantly. He pulled back to look at you, concerned.
"What's wrong?” he asked in a husky voice. 
You huffed, frustrated. At your own reaction. At him suddenly being all gentleman about it. And at yourself again, for not appreciating his concern. 
But it wasn’t the right moment to talk about it, and you were pretty sure he would be all weird about it if you didn’t say anything. 
"It's just--... “ you hesitated, your mind rushing to find any plausible excuse. As you finally found one, your face lit up and you nibbled at your bottom lip, staring at him challengingly. “Don't you get all soft on me now, blondie." 
You almost squirmed under his predatory gaze. Neil brought his hand to your throat, and as his fingers wrapped around it, he leaned to whisper to your ear.
"Suit yourself."
When his teeth grazed your earlobe, you gasped, feeling the feverish heat rushing through your veins. His mouth trailed down your neck as he moved his hand higher, tilting your chin with his thumb just before he brushed it against your lips. You shut your eyes and bit back a moan, feeling Neil smiling and then he ran the tip of his tongue along the crook of your neck.
All of the sudden, you heard voices on the other side of the door. Before you could react, Neil grabbed your hand and pulled you into the stall at the farthest corner of the restroom, turning the lock and pinning you to the wall again with your wrists above your head.
You exhaled sharply as you spotted the roguish sparks in his eyes. 
As some people entered the restroom, Neil stroked your temple with his nose and breathed, “Looks like we need to keep quiet.“ 
You swallowed hard and shuddered, the pulse thumping in your ears.
Still keeping his fingers wrapped around your wrists, his other hand wandered down your body slowly. He studied the way you melted into his touch, taking pleasure at the sight of the animalistic need that clouded your eyes. The last coherent thought left your mind when you felt his hand sliding under your dress, grazing against your thighs, higher and higher, and you bucked your hips, silently urging him to keep moving. 
Neil’s lips parted slightly and he leaned in, kissing your neck just as his fingers trailed under the hem of your panties right to your pulsing core. You threw the head back against the wall and your thighs tightened involuntarily as if to prevent him from backing away now.
“Christ, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet,” Neil chuckled breathlessly to your ear and yanked your underwear down your legs in one swift motion. Securing the grip on your wrists, he palmed over you again, moving his hand back and forth, his digits pressing against your folds firmer with every stroke and you let out an inaudible gasp, feeling the fire at the pit of your stomach growing by the minute. 
But when his thumb started rubbing circles over your clit, you buried your face in the crook of his neck to stifle a cry ready to escape your mouth any second now. Without skipping a beat, Neil gently tapped his foot on the side of your shoe and you instantly followed his suggestion, spreading your legs for him. He hummed in approval, slipping one, then two, fingers into you, and you sank your teeth in your bottom lip as the sudden bolt of pleasure seared your every nerve. 
Neil picked up the pace, curling his fingers inside you just right, and a quiet moan built in your throat and you nuzzled your face into his neck even further; the spicy scent of his cologne ingraining in your hazed mind with every shaky breath you took. 
Feeling you getting closer to the edge, Neil let go of your wrists and pushed you back on the wall. Cupping your face with his free hand, he pressed a thumb against your mouth firmly. You panted heavily as he kept tracing your parted lips in almost the same rhythm as his fingers slid in and out of your throbbing core. You closed your eyes as the fire from the pit of your stomach almost consumed you. 
And just when you thought that you couldn’t take much more, you felt the pad of his thumb grazing against the tip of your tongue at the same time the other one flicked your clit. Your mind went blank and you sucked on his finger, trying to muffle a whimper.
“Good girl,” Neil breathed into your ear. “Now come for me.”
And so you did, your every particle dissolving into a blissful pleasure roaming through your body wave after wave. 
When you regained your senses, you were greeted by the self-satisfied grin you knew all too well. You scoffed and shook your head, too much of a mess to form a coherent comment. You listened for a second, trying to figure out if there was anyone outside, but it seemed that you two were alone, at least for now. Then your eyes wandered down and your mouth watered at the sight. 
Without thinking twice over it, you palmed the bulk in Neil’s trousers, looking up to meet his gaze. 
The hint of surprise mixed with the sheer hunger in the dark blue eyes made your racing heart skip a bit.
"Are you sure?" he rasped, placing hands on your waist.
You nodded, your fingers already fighting with his belt. 
"Stop talking."
Neil raised a brow, amused. 
"Maybe you should ask nicely."
You looked at him in disbelief and turned towards the stall’s door, huffing, "Maybe I should leave you like this."
Neil wrapped his arms around you.
"Mhm," he murmured into your neck as he squeezed your breast, his other hand sliding down your body.
"Fuck--" you gasped as his fingers pressed to your clit again.
His throaty chuckle vibrated on your back.
"What was that?" 
You moaned, rolling your hips to brush against him.
"...please."
----------------
You dampened a paper towel to clean your smudged makeup.
"Wanna grab something to eat?"
You glanced at Neil’s reflection in the mirror, watching as he tucked the shirt in his pants.
"You're reading too much into this,” you tried to make your voice as casual as possible.
"I wouldn't dare," he laughed, joining you by the mirror. "What if I promise not to talk to you unless you ask me to?" 
You mused over it for a moment, staring at Neil’s attempts to fix his messy hair.
"And if you break the promise?"
The blue eyes met yours and lit up.
"I'll let you punish me however you see fit."
You scoffed. 
...but then a corner of your lips twitched into a half-smile.
(next chapter ->)
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perhapsthanatos · 3 years
Text
10:32 pm with yuta ♡
nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)
alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn
genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.
word count: 1400~
playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.
warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.
a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3
“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”
“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”
“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”
“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”
you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?
you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?
after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.
“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”
a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.
“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”
“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“
“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”
his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”
you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”
he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”
“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”
“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.
knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.
yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.
he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.
“get in, princess.”
and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.
“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.
“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”
you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.
© perhapsthanatos (efa)
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