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leftoverenvy · 2 years

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Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 7)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: eventual smut; sugar baby relationships; age gap (16 years - but all over 18)

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @spencersendgame

Chapter 7 - Welcome Home

Emily's POV

Emily: On the jet – I'll be home tonight. Can we move you in tomorrow?

Indi 💘: Can we wait until the weekend?

Emily: Art gallery opening is this weekend, remember?

Indi 💘: You never sent me a schedule…

Emily: Shit Emily: Surprise! Art gallery opening is this weekend! Emily: We need to find you a dress. Move in tomorrow and dress shop Friday?

Indi 💘: I can make that work. Can't wait to see you

Emily: I'm sorry we have to do this in the middle of the week. I want you to focus on classes, but this way you can be settled before the chaos starts. I can't wait to see you either, sweetheart 😘

______________________________

On Thursday evening, I was swimming with anticipation. I was nervous she would beat me home. I went to Sephora and Target for her and bought any bathroom toiletry a girl could possibly need. Indi would finally move in tonight and I wanted her to be comfortable. I already knew her to be a girl who wouldn't ask for something she needed, so I wanted to cover all her bases.

I was just putting the last hair cream in the cupboard when I heard the doorbell ring. I rushed down the stairs to open the door. I smiled brightly only to be met by a confused India looking me up and down. Maybe she wasn't expecting me to be so casual, but no one can wear a suit all the time. She shook her head as if to shake whatever thought she was thinking out of her head and walked in.

I welcomed her and took her suitcase. "Let me show you to your room." We walked near each other, our shoulders brushing as we moved up the stairs. "Here you go," I said placing her suitcase at the foot of her bed. "If you don't like anything, I can have it changed quickly. Please don't live in a room you don't like. You won't hurt my feelings."

She looked around wide-eyed. "Em," she said breathlessly, "It's gorgeous! Look at these windows!" she said rushing across the room. "I can't quite tell in the dark…does it face the creek?"

"Yes," I said sheepishly. I chose this room for her because she seemed to have liked the creek so much; I wanted her to have an unobstructed view.

"It's great, Em. Really. Thank you," she said turning around to face me.

"I'll uh, leave you to settle in…" I bit my lip again and shuffled my feet. "When you're done, if you aren't too tired, could we talk about tomorrow?" I didn't know why I was so nervous. I had all the power here. But as soon as the thought entered my head, I knew it was false. This girl already had so much power over me. She could ruin me almost instantly.

I wandered back downstairs, grabbed a bottle of wine, poured a glass for myself, and grabbed an extra glass for Indi. I curled up on the couch with my current book. I had only read a few pages when I heard her soft footsteps on the stairs.

"That was fast," I noted.

She ignored me and asked, "What's up with half the Sephora that now lives in my bathroom?"

I chuckled nervously. "I want you to have everything you need…"

"It's unnecessary, Em. You didn't have to do that." I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Would she ever get used to this?

She looked near the piano and I knew she saw her welcome home present when her eyes widened comically large. "What is that?" she asked, a note of admiration in her voice. She moved towards the piano to get a better look.

I stood up to be closer to her. "It's a welcoming present."

"Emily! This is a Gibson!"

"Yes," I said hesitantly. I wasn't sure if this was going to cause a fight like the phone. I hoped the phone incident was just a fluke.

"This is a $5,000 guitar!" she continued. The fact that she knew just how much this Gibson cost told me exactly how well I did picking it out for her; clearly she had done her research and wanted it. I wouldn't deny it so I just looked at her. "I don't even know how to play the guitar," she pointed out.

"Well now you can learn," I said nonchalantly.

She closed the distance between us by launching herself into my open arms. Though unexpected, I couldn't help but be delighted at her embrace. She fit perfectly in my arms, and as soon as our skin touched, that addicting energy pulsed between us. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

I was stunned by how quickly she accepted the guitar. Maybe the trick, like with the phone, was just to buy and ask for forgiveness, not permission. Or maybe, she had finally gotten over whatever aversion it was she had to being spoiled. Who would have thought? A sugar baby who didn't want to be spoiled?

"Can I get a tour of the house?" she asked, still in my arms. I nodded and let her go, albeit reluctantly. As we moved around the house, I was always too aware of where she was. Some invisible force pulled me near her. It was like she was the sun, and I was caught in her gravitational pull. It was like my body was begging to touch hers.

I placed my hand at the small of her back as I directed her around the downstairs to show her the library and my office. I couldn't help but remember how it felt to ghost my fingers down her back when we were at the restaurant. It was so possessive of me, but when I saw men staring at her on our first date, I had to do something to claim her. It was like my hands had a mind of their own. Regarding touch, my rights were limited, so I had to settle for a hand on her back. I had to constantly remind myself that a simple touch had to be enough.

But we weren't at the restaurant tonight. There were no men leering at my India. I should have been more in control of myself. I had no excuse to touch her. But my fingers nevertheless ached when they weren't touching her. So I gave in; I was weak. But at least I was touching her.

"Woah!" she said awestruck by the library. "Can I read in here?"

"That is what it's for," I teased.

She bumped her shoulder into me. "Don't be smart. I don't want to intrude in your spaces."

"India," I turned her to face me head on, to look me in the eyes. "For the next four months, this is your home. I want you to be comfortable here. There aren't restrictions on where you can go or what you can do." I stopped myself. "I take that back." She smirked. "Maybe don't reorganize my office."

"I think I can handle that."

"The only 'rule,'" I said putting air quotes around it, "Is that I'd like to know when you're having guests. Not that you can't, I'd just like to know." She nodded. "So read away my little book worm."

When we got to the garage, her eyes widened again. Admittedly, the garage was huge. I had a whole, separate building specially built and then a connecting, covered walkway to the house. "So," I said a bit shy. "Uh, this is the garage…I, uh, maybe have a thing for fast cars."

"I'll say! These are all yours??" she asked, her eyes sweeping over my four cars.

"Yeah…" I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I cleared a spot. That one there," I said pointing. "You can park there. I'll leave an opener to get in on the counter for you tomorrow."

When we got back inside, we flopped on the couch and I handed her a glass of wine. I was pleased to note she hadn't sat as far away from me as she had the first night she was here. Any progress, no matter how small, was a win in my book. "So…" I started. "I was thinking maybe we should craft a story about how we 'got together.' You know, just in case it comes up."

"I think that's a sensible plan, Ms. Prentiss." My stomach tightened at her formality. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Well," I wasn't sure how embarrassing it would be to admit I had thought about this a lot. I didn't want to freak her out. "I guess it depends on how much of yourself you want to be?"

Her brow furrowed in that frustratingly adorable way. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, well. Some sugar babies want to craft a different backstory than their own. I wasn't sure if you wanted to do that…"

"Do YOU want me to do that?" she turned it around.

I was rather partial to her true background. "No."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I don't know if I could keep up with being two people." Oh, if only she knew how difficult it really was…

"So then maybe I met you at school?"

Her brow crinkled again, this time, her nose scrunching up with it. God she was cute. And she had no idea what an effect she had on me. "What would you be doing at Georgetown? A lecture?"

I shook my head. "I was thinking more along the lines of a benefactor being at a recital to see how the Performing Arts Department is doing…"

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth raised in a smirk. "You sure you want to admit to being infatuated with me so early on?" she teased.

"I can think of worse things," I admitted sincerely, my eyes staring into hers.

"I assume it's safe to say you are a benefactor for the Performing Arts Department, and that isn't just for the story?"

"It is safe to say that, yes." I gulped. I didn't want her to think I was encroaching on her space.

"Thank you for supporting my education before you even knew me, then," she joked, raising her glass as a toast. I laughed – she never ceased to surprise me. "So at this recital," she continued.

"Mmmhm?" I took a sip of wine.

"Did you simply have to come talk to me? Did you woo me? Sweep me off my feet?" She was laughing at herself. Her tone was joking, but I couldn't stop staring at her in wonderment. She looked so pretty when her eyes sparkled like that. Even though she was teasing me, I couldn't help but be grateful to hear such a beautiful laugh. "Did you see me and immediately fall in love?"

"Yes," I answered softly. I wished I could take it back. I prayed she would understand it as only answering for our crafted story. I prayed she would ignore the weighty double-meaning of my response. I had to quickly change the subject.

"What were your past relationships like?" Great. As if that topic of conversation were any better than this one.

"I see we aren't done playing 50 Questions," she joked. I quirked an eyebrow at her. "I've only had one girlfriend," she answered reluctantly. "It obviously did not work out."

"You sound upset about that…"

"Not at all. I mean, of course I was hurt at the time, but she wasn't right for me."

"How so?" I had to know. My sense of boundaries was completely erased with this girl. I wanted to know everything about her.

She averted her eyes, obviously a bit uncomfortable. "She just wasn't supportive of my studies." I frowned.

"Were you in love?"

She looked me straight in the eyes. "No."

"You've never been in love?" I asked in shock.

"Not yet," she said softly, but her eyes were boring into mine. I felt something shift in my chest. Hope leaped inside me, keeping time with my pounding heart. Before I could admit I loved her again, I had to change the subject.

"So you've mentioned books several times now…" I said, lightening the mood.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Let me just showcase what a nerd I am by talking nonstop about books and drooling over your library. I'm sure that's so attractive."

"It is," I assured her sincerely. She scoffed. "I'm serious! I'm a big nerd too. I love to read – always have. Even as a kid, I always had a book in my hand. I mean, I have a library in my home for god's sake!"

"Who's your favorite author?"

"Only one?!" I asked outraged. She giggled at me and I willed myself to commit the sound to memory. Her laugh was infectious, precious. I wanted to hear it every day.

"Mmmhm," she affirmed, "Only one."

I sighed. "Kurt Vonnegut then."

"Ahh Mother Night."

"You've read it?!" I asked far too excitedly.

"Of course I have. Maybe the best book I've ever read."

"Yes!" I nearly shouted. I couldn't believe how excited I was letting myself get over a book. The last time I talked about Vonnegut on a date, I didn't get a call back. But this wasn't a date, I had to remind myself. "And Slaughterhouse Five."

She grimaced. "I have to say, I didn't love Slaughterhouse Five."

"What!" I gasped. "How?!"

"I don't know. It just didn't speak to me. It was too jumbled for me, the organization and timeline."

"But that's the point," I argued.

"I know," she teased back. "Doesn't make it any easier to read."

"Well who's YOUR favorite author, then?" I asked slightly put out.

She blushed and bit at her lip. "Would it be terrible for me to say it's impossible to answer that question?"

My jaw dropped. "After you made me answer it?" She nodded, her lip still caught between her teeth. It was quite distracting. "And after you said Vonnegut sucks??"

"I didn't say Vonnegut sucked," she corrected, exasperated, "I said Slaughterhouse Five sucked." Her foot darted out across the couch to nudge me, her lips now twisted into a teasing smirk. I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face and had to resist the urge to grab her foot and pull her onto my lap so I could do just that.

"Anyway-" I had to change the subject before I did something stupid. I would never forgive myself if I did anything to cause her to end this agreement before it had really even begun. I threw back the rest of my wine as if it were a shot. "We should go to bed. Sleep in – no rush to get up early. But we need to shop for a dress for you. Saturday's the gallery opening. You need a nice cocktail dress."

"I left your schedule on your dresser. I don't know if you saw it" – she nodded – "but everything marked on there is required. And don't worry, we'll make sure you get appropriate dresses before each event. Do you want me to hire hair and makeup for you, too?"

"No, I think I can manage. If you disagree, we can talk about it?" She looked nervous.

"I'm sure that won't be the case, India. You're gorgeous no matter what." I was really going to have to learn to develop a filter if this was how it was going to be from now on. I needed to get out of there. I was already so gone over her.

"Okay!" I said, getting off the couch. "See you in the morning!" And I walked briskly out of the room. Once I was out of her sight, I ran as quietly, but as quickly, as I could up the stairs into the safety of my room. She was dangerous, fluttering and stirring feelings in my chest I hadn't felt in years. I berated myself because she wasn't mine to have. I was only renting her for a few short months.

_ _ _

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#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

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aphantaray · 1 year

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Saffron and Honey

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42788328

Let’s Just Say It’s Growing On Me

Ravi’s coworker, Erwin, pulled a little mason jar out of his pocket. The warped glass made it hard to make sense of the pink blob floating inside.

“Tumor,” he explained with a toothy smile.

Ravi brought their hand to their mouth and took a big step back from the old man.

“Oh, what are you being such a baby for? It’s just meat. A miserable little pile of meat.”

Ravi tried to calm themself down. He was right. Just meat. We’re all just meat, right? It’s fine. But, no, it was all for show. They couldn’t settle their stomach, no matter how cool they tried to look while they examined the jar. They refused to touch the glass themself, of course, so in Erwin’s hand it remained – where it couldn’t hurt them.

Oh god. What if it moved…

“Where did you get a tumor from?”

“It’s mine! They carved it out last week. Missed three whole days of work for this little piece of shit.” He gave the glob of flesh a little shake and a menacing smile. “You’ll pay for that,” he threatened the thing, like it knew what it had done. Ravi got the feeling Erwin was the sort of person who put his furniture in the corner after it had stubbed his toe – you know, to think about what it had done.

Ravi grinned at the thought of Erwin dressing the little wad of flesh in a uniform and putting it behind the wheel of the forklift for a few days, as retribution for the lost wages. “Do you think anyone will notice?” they asked idly.

“Notice what?”

“When the tumor takes your job.”

It took Erwin a moment to realize he was being insulted, “You shit. You’ve been here nine months, kid, you’re lucky I don’t give it your badge. It’ll get more work done. Might even pass a performance review for once. What’d you get last time, Butterfingers McGee? ‘Absolute shit’?”

Needs work. Close enough. Ravi was supposed to be a little more crushed by that evaluation, based on the grave look on their supervisor’s face when she delivered the report and presented the sum total of every penny they’d cost the company by dropping boxes. But the review felt more like a matter of fact. A state of being. Ravi needs work.

“I should get my own pet tumor,” they grinned at Erwin, “Take a little vacation. Get a raise. Get a girlfriend. Hell, it could just live my whole life for me. The latest model. Ravi 20xs. New and improved. Less bullshit.”

When the two of them bumped into each other later that day during a rainy, frigid, harried smoke break, Ravi had to ask why. It had been on their mind all day. Who keeps a hunk of cancerous flesh? He wasn’t going to eat it or something, was he?

“Don’t they burn that stuff?” they asked, attempting to flick their lighter’s flame on for emphasis – which, sputtering in the wet weather, was much less dramatic than they had hoped. Worse, their cigarette refused to light. This was going to be a complete waste of the only break they were going to get all day.

“They sure do, but I told ‘em I wanted it. They still said no, so I grabbed it out of the guy’s hand when he was showing it to me and bolted out the door.”

“You bolted out the door,” Ravi echoed in disbelief. “After surgery? No sedatives?”

“You think a little tranq is going to stop me? Kid.”

The last and only time Ravi had accepted Erwin’s insistent weekly offers to join him for a bottle after work, it turned out an ‘Erwin’ bottle is about the size of gas can – and the stuff in it smelled about the same. And somehow, even after getting through all that and then finishing off Ravi’s beer, he was still on his feet. He even walked them home in the cold, wearing a smile and dancing like a lunatic the whole way. So, yeah, no doubt in Ravi’s mind. Erwin could probably run a marathon on a whole barrel of ketamine.

“You’re just going to keep it?” Ravi really didn’t want to ask about it directly – the whole auto-cannibalism thing – but they were aching to be rid of all the images their mind was conjuring of Erwin preparing his excision for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They practically had a whole cookbook of body horror in their mind, ready to go.

Erwin was graciously not shoving his unsettling pet in Ravi’s face anymore, but he was clearly fiddling with it in his coat pocket while he spoke.

“Our business is not complete,” he assured Ravi. When they failed to nod with understanding, he launched into a hypothetical situation that quickly turned into some kind of parable, “If you killed a bear before it killed you, you’d spend some intimate time with the thing after, yeah? You’d sit with it, feel it out, know it – figure out where it was going and why it ended up there, with you, angry and scared. It’s a force of nature you can hold in your hands. And if one hair were out of place, that bear would’ve won, Rav.” He could no longer resist the urge to draw out the metaphorical beast from his pocket to glare at it. “I haven’t sat with that long enough yet.”

That conversation played through Ravi’s mind while they waited for their turn at the clinic in the chilly October air.

Ravi wondered if they could bolt from a surgery on anesthetic. But it didn’t matter much, since the nurses never used anesthetic for this thing. Out-patient, they called it. The sign on the front door promised in-and-out in thirty minutes. They’d had quickies longer, with more tender aftercare and less awkward eye contact, too.

But back here, a hundred feet from the front door of the clinic, there was a standing sign on the sidewalk that proudly pronounced – in stark contrast to the other sign’s promise of a mercifully short engagement – it pronounced that the wait from this point in the line was ‘only’ one hour.

Both signs were untrue of course. Unless clocks and time were fiercely warped around here, or maybe there was some hidden asterisk somewhere in the signage. No, this was always a day-long adventure.

It never healed, they were told. It could never heal. The blister-like wounds would fill with black agony over the course of every month, then the nurse would take it out, put it in a jar, burn it. And that was it. They’d get another month. And they’d get a hundred months fewer on Earth than the people lucky enough to avoid getting sick with it – though what exactly that blessed crowd were doing differently than the infected was still a medical mystery, apparently.

The line was the worst part of this whole experience – is what Ravi tried to convince themself. This gymnastic mental exercise was better for their heart. Focus on the annoyance instead of the knife-twisting ache in their back and shoulder. And it wasn’t too hard a lie to believe, since there was just a whole lot of annoyance to focus on out here.

In the last year, the line had been growing longer every month. An article – maybe even a reputable one – strongly suggested that the infected were migrating to the city, sent there by small, overburdened community clinics. The author wrote a merciless and heartless indictment of the little underfunded towns for ‘making their problems our problem’ – because they simply ‘refused’ to put their scant resources towards treating their ill. The article chastised them for ‘burdening’ all the province’s largest and most important hospitals. It was very much the kind of article that could only be written by someone who had never lived outside the city limits.

Our problem.

Ravi’s problem today, in particular. As a dispirited little postgrad student, they didn’t take up much space, which seemed to be an invitation for the occasional impatient guy to cut in line, or for some young woman to insist that she was suffering more severely than they were. ‘Kids at home.’ ‘Kettle on the boil.’ Whatever scant excuse came to mind. Ravi wasn’t going to argue. What’s another hour? Not like they were doing anything else this weekend. Not until their pain got sorted out by the exhausted in-and-out nurse at the end of the line.

It was pretty painful to lose a whole weekend of overtime, stuck waiting in the cold. Did it compare to the pain of leaving their wounds untreated? It was always a tight race, but the physical pain won every month.

But the line and the wait and the pushy people… Today was the worst it had ever been. Ravi felt like they were actually getting shoved backwards by the unjust swelling of the line in front of them. And most of these people were too sick, too frail, and too achy to fight back. If this kept up, they’d end up pushed all the way back to the two-hour sign by the time the clinic closed.

And as if it weren’t bad enough having to stand and freeze in a stagnant line with a couple hundred grumpy people, there was suddenly an overbearingly sweet floral scent coming from somewhere nearby, like someone was emptying a can of air freshener into the air. Who the hell brings air freshener to a clinic? And who the hell sprays air freshener outdoors at a clinic?

“Amy Bee!”

Ravi’s shoulders tightened at the sound. Amy Bee. No one had called them by that cutesy, childish nickname in years. They didn’t recognize the voice, but it must be someone from a past life.

How the hell do you even run into someone you know in a city this big?

“Amaira! It is you!”

An absolutely jubilant young woman – big flowy hair that shone in the grey weather like amber and sun and honey – ran up to Ravi, beaming, making them feel like a sheepish, distant cousin at a family gathering: spoken of too well behind their back, but entirely out of the loop and stuck owing this would-be stranger a fake smile and a pleasant tone.

“Heyyy, it’s… you.”

Name. Name please. Brain? Help? No?

Ravi had no idea what to do here. This woman’s face should be hard to forget. Cute freckles on cold-blushed cheeks, an impossibly bright smile peeking out over a big knit scarf, sparkling blue eyes that felt like a spell even under the overcast sky. And she was… tall. Sturdy. Big. Big energy. Big charm. Just, everything about her was big in a way that made Ravi feel even smaller than usual.

“Oh my gods,” she said, putting a gentle, considerate touch on Ravi’s arm. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing this old jacket. I recognized it a whole block away. Of course you would, though. It’s so you—”

Their old denim jacket, covered in stapled-on patches. They had no idea it was so iconic. It was probably ten years old by now. The sleeves used to be kind of stiff and spacious, but it fit better every year. They couldn’t really wear it to work or school or anything, though, so it was saved for special occasions – like when they were trying to look unapproachable in line at the clinic.

The woman leaned in far too close to inspect one of the patches on Ravi’s chest pocket.

Lilac. Dandelion. Sunshine.

It was her – the source of that floral scent, which was already unreasonably powerful in the breeze, and almost intoxicating now with her right under Ravi’s nose like this – though, admittedly, the aroma wasn’t so suffocating now, now that they knew it wasn’t coming out of an aerosol can.

Kind of nice actually.

Reminded them of summer.

“This is Kittle Skisses, isn't it?” she asked, pointing. “First album?”

Even Ravi had to look down to doublecheck, but sure enough, it was. “That's… right. Are you a fan?”

“Uh, yeah, only since they were still scaring all the old guys out of the room at all the cute little open mic nights around here. They're one of my favorite bands.”

“One of? What number?”

“Oh. Mm. Near the top I think. 70ish?”

70 was near the top? Wow. This woman. Not exactly an exclusive list.

“How many favorites do you have?”

“Oh, a lot. I know a lot of bands, though, so even 70’s a prestigious position to be in. Even the ones down in the hundreds ranks are top tier, I promise.”

“Huh.”

Awkward pause.

The woman was still smiling at them. What was Ravi supposed to say here? They wanted this conversation to be over as quickly as possible. If it went fast enough, they could get out of this without ever revealing that the woman’s name had been forever lost to the sandstorm of time between them.

“So uh, how have you been?” they asked after a second of silence that felt like a hundred years.

“Not great!” she replied, surprisingly cheerful about her ‘not great’ situation, and, unfortunately, apparently willing to be 100% sincere instead of just replying with a ‘fine’ and moving on. “Not great. My buddy just got evicted. Well, more like the landlord changed his lock. No notice, even! That should be illegal, shouldn’t it?”

Ravi nodded. “Yeah uh. That’s… definitely not allowed.”

“Just because the guy had a little party – and not even a party party! You wouldn’t call a few friends hanging out and playing games all night a party, would you?”

“I… would not? I mean, I would need more details. Like, how loud were these ‘friends’?” From a quick, discerning analysis, Ravi felt pretty confident that this woman had the energy of a ‘friend’ who might just be loud enough to be mistaken for a whole crowd of rambunctious partygoers.

“So I don’t even have a couch to crash on anymore,” the woman continued without addressing the question.

And then Ravi saw their social assailant’s machinations.

“Yeah,” they tried to cut in, “Hey, that sucks. I wish I could help—” Maybe they could preemptively excuse themself from the giant ask that was about to be dropped on them.

“—So I can stay with you! Oh my gods thank you so much, you have no idea how much trouble you’re saving me. I’ll stay out of your way, and I’ll be gone in a week. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

Ravi’s mouth opened slightly in awe. They tried to say no. They tried to crumple up that woman’s optimistic smile and leave her out in the cold with nowhere to go. They really, truly, honestly tried to get a no to form on their lips, but somehow it came out yes.

“I knew I could count on you, Amy Bee. You were always sweet as honey.”

Ravi’s shoulders sunk, but they put on as kind a grin as they could muster and started rearranging their apartment in their mind to make accommodations for this woman – who was allegedly an old friend – to sleep on their couch, for one and only one week.

“It’s just an old loveseat though,” they tried to explain. “Terrible for your back.” Maybe if they made it sound uncomfortable enough…?

“Perfect,” the woman replied, undeterred, to Ravi’s dismay. “It’s not full or rocks or iron rods, is it?”

Ravi shook their head. What an odd question.

“Just nice soft cushions?”

Ravi nodded reluctantly. No point lying now. Their fate was sealed.

“No, really, that’s totally luxurious. My guy’s couch had some very aggressive springs in it. I had to get all twisted up just to avoid getting stabbed all night. But normal cushions on a loveseat? Perfect. I’ll just curl up in a cozy ball, pretend to be a little cat, you won’t even notice me.”

A stray.

The woman – whose name still hadn’t returned to Ravi’s mind, so, ‘Jane’? Why not? Too late to ask now, and she had big ‘Jane’ energy – ‘Jane’ leaned back on the heels of her boots and took a long look up and down the stalled and miserable parade of patients waiting to get their monthly treatment.

“You sick?” she asked. Then she finally woke up to the reality of Ravi’s situation and the possibility of them being contagious. (They weren’t.) She covered her mouth with the cuff of her coat, but instead of stepping back like a normal person would, she leaned in and eagerly asked, “What is it?” Her voice was muffled by the impromptu mask. “Broken bones? Fever? Rabies?”

She looked Ravi up and down trying to diagnose their ailment at a glance, which shouldn’t have been possible. They prided themself on being able to hide it. And they were lucky enough to have their wounds in easily concealed locations. Well, lucky for pride’s sake. They hurt just a whole bunch worse under their clothes.

“Oh no. It’s not that tar thing, is it?”

How.

“That’s kind of personal,” Ravi replied, trying to avoid the answer.

But ‘Jane’ must have managed to put all the clues together – the clues being that most of the people in the line had their ugly black spots on display, and also that the clinic had big signs on its exterior advertising its tar treatment services today. The place did other normal medical stuff too, but these clinics got a lot of funding based on the number of these black ‘tar’ blisters they treat every month. Ravi had even seen nurses turn other patients away, just because they weren’t ‘sick enough’ to justify the cost of taking up an examination room that could otherwise be used to extract a bit of black, goopy funding out of someone’s blisters.

‘Jane’, during her brief investigation of the scene, had also made note of the sign indicating the hour-long wait time from this point in the line. The look on her face said that that was entirely unacceptable. She paused for a moment to think, very intently, even rolling her head side to side a bit to consider her options, then she told Ravi she’d be right back before rushing to the front of the queue, intently searching for something.

Ravi leaned out of the line as far as they could get without losing their spot, but they couldn’t really see what ‘Jane’ was up to.

A minute later, with an imperative, “Let’s go!” from their new roommate, Ravi was ripped right out of their precious spot in line and dragged up to the front. They did their best to protest, but there was apparently no stopping this woman, and by the time they even had a chance to look back, their place was already filled.

Heartless.

“Here she is!” She showed Ravi off to an older woman near the front of the line, who was acting overjoyed to see them. ‘Jane’ turned to Ravi and gave them a not-so-subtle wink. “Your ‘mom’ was worried about you! Don’t wander off anymore, okay?”

Ravi had no idea what was going on, but they weren’t about to complain about being thrust to the front of the queue like this. They gave a stupid nod and joined the elderly woman in line.

Before she left, ‘Jane’ leaned in and whispered in Ravi’s ear, “Thank you, really. Look, I’ll meet you at the coffee shop on the corner over there,” she pointed. Then gave Ravi a cheerful wave and jogged off.

After she left, Ravi gave their new mom a quiet thank you and what was almost certainly the most awkward smile the features of their face could arrange themselves into.

“Oh, honey don’t be shy,” she laughed, then gave Ravi a very much unsolicited hug. After letting go, their ‘mom’ glared at the guy behind them in line, who looked about ready to swear at Ravi for cutting – which would have been entirely deserved. And not just because it was extremely rude. ‘Jane’ had come up with an entirely implausible scheme here. But the guy’s ire was quickly deflated by either the woman’s threatening glare, or the realization that he’d be yelling and swearing at a sick old woman. He backed down without a word.

Once she had successfully defended the challenge to the legitimacy of Ravi’s stolen spot in the queue, she asked, “So how do you know Danica?”

Ahh, right. Danica. Yeah, that was her alright. Ravi had never actually been friends with her in high school, but she did always seem to be involved in anything they were doing. Clubs, sports, student council… Hell was there even one class they didn’t share? Not out of any special coincidence though. She was just one of the handful of people in school who had the energy and fortune to do literally everything.

But in all that time, the two of them never once worked together or even sat together. They’d only had a few conversations at all, and Ravi couldn’t remember any of them. The two of them lived in different worlds. And Ravi had a hard time believing they’d made such an impression as a twerpy little faux punk goth kid that she would remember them after six years, but apparently Danica was more attentive to her classmates than they could have imagined.

Or maybe Ravi was the weird one – an arrogant antisocial asshole who was the only person alive that didn’t make any effort to remember anyone. Hard to tell.

“From school,” Ravi replied slowly. “We were in the same year. How do you know her?”

“Oh, we have some common interests. She puts baskets together at the food bank, and once in a while she joins our little stitch-and-bitch – though the little puppy is mostly there for the stitching part.” The woman put out her hand. “Angie.”

“Ravi.” They’d never see this woman again. It didn’t matter.

“Pretty name.”

Pretty. Sure. “Thanks. Picked it myself.”

Angie looked sad to hear that. She shook her head with disappointment and chastised Ravi, “Names are powerful gifts. Shame to throw away a treasure like that.”

Ravi wasn’t planning to get into the storied history of their name with a stranger. Instead, they changed the subject by commenting on the charming colors in the woman’s scarf, which got her talking about how it was a handmade gift from one of her girlfriends, and that was enough to keep her attention off of Ravi until the two of them were split into separate rooms for the procedure.

The nurse did the two blisters near Ravi’s shoulder blade first – after scolding them for the scar on their back, the scar that was left over from their very first blister, the blister that got extremely unprofessionally excised with a hunting knife right after their diagnosis… five years ago now? God. They didn’t need to be reminded how stupid that was. As if the three new blisters that popped up afterwards and the resulting tripling of their pain wasn’t enough to keep them straight.

They flinched when the needle went in. They would have liked to pretend that they had made peace with the feeling of the treatment by now, but nothing felt peaceful about the extremely sharp, jaw-clenching, hiss-inducing sensation of having that thick black gunk forcibly displaced from their body.

‘Tar’ was a fitting nickname for it.

Each extraction filled a small glass vial, which the nurse placed into a rack that contained dozens of others just like it from other patients. Profitable day for the clinic.

For the final blister – the one that was just below the soft part of the shoulder on their right arm – they twisted their neck to watch the nurse. They always watched that one. They figured they might have to do it themself one day. Better to know how to take care of yourself. Ravi didn’t enjoy relying on doctors for their body’s upkeep. Bad experiences with the medical profession. Sadly, love them or hate them, doctors were the ones with the equipment and the prescription pads.

The device the nurse used to administer the treatment was simple enough. It looked a little like a glue gun with terrifying needles sticking out the front. A vial with a wide needle pierced the surface of the blister near the skin to collect the tarry discharge, while another syringe nestled deep in the abscess to inject some thick, clear, medicinal gel from the other side. The gel forced the tar out to take its place in the wound, then over the course of the month, it would get supplanted, replaced in bits with yet another painful black glob.

The last vial rattled into place with the others in the rack. Ravi looked at it intently. Erwin’s words still rang in their mind. This was their bear, wasn’t it? Lots of people died from this. Ravi had been lucky. They continued to be lucky every month. But just one hair out of place, and it could take them. They definitely had some questions for it.

In the moment the nurse had her back turned to discard her gloves, Ravi silently plucked that last vial from the rack and pocketed it, unnoticed.

Their heart was racing when they got out of the building and into the parking lot.

Why did this feel guilty? They deserved this. They owned this, didn’t they? After spending a whole month laboriously… growing it.

They held the vial up to the bright light of the overcast sky. “Amaira Beausoleil” was printed in thermal ink on the label, along with every number and symbol the clinic could think of to describe what ‘Amaira’ meant to the world. None of it meant anything to them, but there was one number printed in the bottom corner that gave them a little reason to be concerned: ‘3/3’. It should have been obvious the clinic would be keeping an inventory of the vials to get their handsome funding, but how did they know ahead of time that Ravi only had enough tar for three of them? Kind of presumptuous. And… if they were counting them so meticulously… would they miss this one?

Well, no point worrying about it now. What is done cannot be undone.

They hid the vial in their pocket and started for the bus stop.

They were already up the stairs of the bus, mere inches away from tapping on their fare, when they remembered they had forgotten someone.

The walk back to the café where Danica was waiting for them was full of stuttered steps. They came to a full stop every time the thought crossed their mind that they could just walk away right now. Danica had no idea where they lived. She didn’t have their contact info. She didn’t even have the right name. How could she possibly find them? More than once, that thought turned them around, back towards the bus, towards a peaceful home with no noisy guests sleeping on the couch, intruding on their sanctuary, pretending to be as harmless as a kitten. But every turn brought them right back around again towards the café, to the exuberantly patient, dutifully waiting Danica.

She waved them over excitedly, inviting them to sit at a table that felt far too small for two people. But it had two chairs, so it must have been deemed large enough by the café’s stingy owner, and by Danica herself, so they didn’t really have a choice.

There was no good spot for Ravi’s feet under the table. It seemed everywhere they tried to put them, they were stepping on Danica’s toes, so they gave up on relaxing and just sat up stiff and straight to keep their feet tucked neatly under their chair. This already felt exhausting.

“How was it?” Danica asked, excited to hear the answer. “I hear it hurts.”

Ravi’s long-lost ‘friend’ looked down at their face with such interest and intensity that it was hard to look away without feeling rude. The light in the café caught her irises in a way that made them shine like gemstones. Entrancing. Ravi wished their eyes could be so captivating. The abyssal brown that looked back at them in every mirror just didn’t do it for them most days.

“It does,” Ravi confirmed. They didn’t know what else to add. It did hurt. No one really wants the details, and anyone who does just wants them for some perverse, false sense of empathy – as if to hear the words describing the pain was enough to understand what it meant to feel it, to live with it.

“And they make you wait out in the cold all that time! Can’t they just get more doctors? Or at least get a bigger space for everyone stuck waiting.”

Ravi shrugged, “I can’t pretend to know how that part of the process works. I’m just lucky it’s free. Down south it costs an arm and a leg. So, you know, surprising no one, a lot of people let it grow until they lose their arms and legs.”

Danica shook her head sadly. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself, in awe.

This wasn’t new or quiet information though. Like most people, Danica just hadn’t been looking out for it. Ravi was always vaguely aware that no one really cared about ‘the tar thing’, as Danica put it, unless it was directly affecting them. But it was kind of painful getting hit in the face with it like this.

“That’s so dark,” she said to Ravi, “I’m sorry you have to deal with all that, Amy. If there’s anything I can do to make it better, please let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They tapped out an uneven, syncopated rhythm on the tabletop, staring at their finger as it rose and fell like a blacksmith’s hammer, shaping the answer to an unasked question in their mind – whether or not this annoyance was worth bringing up. Was it worth the trouble for just a week? Or maybe because it was just a week, and they didn’t care about this woman…? It was their home that she was intruding on. She should use the right name. But it’s always such a thing.

After a dozen slow, heavy impacts, they made up their mind.

“It’s Ravi, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“No one calls me Amaira anymore.” Not true.

“Oh! ‘Ravi’. Raw-vee.” She tried the name out in quick, quiet whispers to herself, “Ravi, Ravi, Ravi…” Then returned her attention to them with a cheerful thumbs up. “Okay! Got it.”

That easy?

“What do you go by these days?” they asked. It seemed like the courteous thing to do. Ravi’s ‘mom’ called her Danica, but old people always seemed pick out the least comfortable form of anyone’s name.

“You call me whatever you feel like, Ravi.” She was practicing now. “I’ve been experimenting with ‘Nicole’. What do you think?”

Ravi smiled at that – ‘experimenting’. There was something nostalgic and warm about that.

“It’s great,” Ravi assured her. “Nice to meet you again, Nicole.”

The newly christened young woman beamed, then dragged Ravi up to the counter to pay for their drink of choice.

The two of them spent a lot longer at the café catching up than Ravi expected them to. Nicole’s energy was kind of intoxicating. And Ravi had a lot more patience for it now that they weren’t suppressing just a whole lot of pain in a miserable line in the cold.

They learned that Nicole had tried her hand at college but found it unsatisfying. Then she spent a year travelling for fun. And another couple years on a voluntourism campaign. That was where her heart was at, she said. But ‘somehow’ she ended up back here. She glossed over why she didn’t have some permanent address to return to. Ravi invented a fiction that she’d been kicked out of her parents’ home for partying too hard or something. And then she shamelessly informed Ravi that she’d been couch surfing with her friends ever since, chipping in whatever rent and favors she could afford while she hopped between jobs.

“I have a bit saved up though if you need it! I’m not some deadbeat drifter. I always pay back a favor,” she asserted, a little indignant at the suggestion that she wouldn’t – a suggestion that she had silently presented only to herself, entirely unsolicited.

“How about you do the dishes, and we’ll call it even.”

Nicole shook her head. “That’s way too little! You’re saving my life. I’ll find some way to make it up to you properly, okay? I promise.”

The ‘one week’ Ravi had initially offered seemed to last an awfully lot longer than seven days. In fact, it seemed to be composed of multiple weeks that just kept chaining themselves together indefinitely. Ravi had no intention of bringing that up, though. Living with Nicole wasn’t nearly as terrible as they had imagined it would be. Actually, it was kind of nice having her around. She always seemed busy, and she always had stories to tell about her life – both her travels and her daily activities. And just like a cat, she often left small gifts at Ravi’s bedroom door. A clay pot. A scarf. A flowering plant – more of a curse than a gift, that one. Ravi’s apartment was where houseplants went to die. An elephant graveyard for ferns, flowers, and succulents. None would be spared. Each cheerful, doomed little plant lived out its miserable little life next to the skeletal remains of its cousins on the windowsill.

All of Nicole’s crafty gifts were handmade. She even offered to bring Ravi along to the studios and workshops where she made them.

“They’ll love you,” she said. She had been on a campaign of trying to get Ravi out more. After her first week there, she had clearly been both surprised and disappointed to find the way Ravi spent their evenings. By the end of week two, there was no end to her encouraging words and… ‘gentle’ pushes.

She didn’t seem to understand how much school took out of them. The night shifts at the warehouse took more. They were barely home. It was hard to imagine going out during the few hours they had left every week. When were they supposed to relax?

“But it is relaxing! Working with your hands, making something. It connects you to the universe, Ravi, shaping it into something new.”

“Yeah, something horrifying. They’ll write stories about it, call it an eldritch artifact. I’ll be hung for consorting with demons.”

But as more and more weeks went by, the ‘absolutely not’s turned into ‘maybe’s, and the ‘maybe’s turned into ‘okay fine’s, where Ravi reluctantly consented to go out with Nicole once in a while, just for a drink or two.

To Nicole’s credit, Ravi did enjoy the nights out, despite the resistant fuss they always put up about being too tired to leave the apartment. Nicole was a joy to spend an evening with. Ravi wasn’t very social at bars, but the way Nicole drew people in, and held their attention, and somehow made Ravi feel like they were part of the conversation without ever making them participate, it felt like magic. It felt like even stronger magic that she somehow deflected every unsolicited phone number with a disarming smile. This woman was some kind of wizard.

That month, Ravi stole another vial from the clinic. It was their secret solace now. They couldn’t do anything about their illness, but they could hold it in their hands, growl at it, ask it why.

It did not answer, but they’d keep asking. They felt like something important was in there.

In all the time Nicole was there, they had never revealed their wounds to her. They even dug an old Christmas robe out of storage, tore the price tags off it, and started wearing it around the apartment to keep their affliction hidden – behind reindeer, snowflakes, and candy canes.

Their sores were gross to look at, but there was another reason to hide them, a reason that nagged at Ravi. They remembered Nicole’s words when they met, when she found out they were sick. She said she wanted to do something for them, to help with their illness, to pay them back, and this thing wasn’t something she could do anything about. No one could. And it would just hurt her to see it all the time. That’s not the kind of burden you put on a stranger. It didn’t even feel like the kind of burden they could put on a friend – not that they had a lot of those left to burden these days.

But Nicole couldn’t contain her curiosity about the vial when she spotted it in Ravi’s hand. It would have been easy to explain it away, but they couldn’t say no to Nicole. And they couldn’t see any harm in letting her take a look. Conceptually, it was just far enough removed from the reality of the sores on their back. It could be any black ooze.

“They have your name wrong,” Nicole noted, disappointed. She wasn’t prepared to hold the glass in her hands, but she was fine idly rolling it around on the table with a pen.

“Among other things, yeah.”

“Ah I see, yeah.” Nicole spotted the erroneous ‘F’ on the label. “I guess they don’t have a letter for that?”

“They do. They have to change it to an ‘X’ if you ask.”

Nicole got animated hearing that. “You should ask!” She clearly thought this was some self-confidence thing, that a little encouragement would make it better.

Ravi shook their head. “It puts an X on your head too. I’ve read a lot about it. Real bureaucratic horror stories. A lot of things get very hard when you put yourself out there like that. Healthcare gets complicated. Legal stuff is a nightmare. And forget travelling with something weird like that on your passport.” They gave Nicole an encouraging smile, to let her know it was fine. “It’s just not worth it.”

She took a deep breath and tried to accept Ravi’s explanation gracefully. Then she returned her attention to the vial.

“There’s really nothing they can do?”

“Well, you hear about research and little breakthroughs here and there.” Ravi sighed. “I hate to be that weird conspiracy guy, but I don’t think there’s any profit motive in curing it. The company that makes the treatment doesn’t have any competitors. If someone made a real cure, they’d lose a lot of money.”

Nicole shook her head. “Unbelievable. What have we got? Butler bots, space vacations – I hear they’re working on stopping old age entirely. Gods, we trapped a little sun in a jar just to keep the whole city lit up at night! But no one can fix something this important when it hurts so many people? That’s crazy. It feels like such a little problem! Haven’t they got rid of diseases like this before? They totally have, right? I’m not crazy? Something’s really wrong with the world. Priorities are all fucked up.”

Ravi couldn’t argue with that. But they did have to accept it, and they told Nicole as much, to her disappointment.

#my work #saffron and honey #original

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toomuchdickfort · 3 years

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Gradient lady and Benoni are Very Tall for no reason beyond. Sometimes u wanna have a tall oc who stands up straight once they get outside and the person beside them goes ‘oh’

#gradient lady is 2 feet taller than benoni #and she’d 100% use his head as an armrest. at least once. and he’d not react except maybe duck down a little and then she’d feel kinda bad #and give him a magic ring or smth #character rambles #elysur #unrelatedly my left eye is blurry for no reason and I’m tempted to throw away this contact Bc if I put it in a case to rinse I *will* forget #about it until it’s dry and gross and idk if I can use the case anymore #nevermind I think I forgot to change my contacts last month so they’re out #this shit is why I want glasses. I can wear em for like a month and not have to worry about this shit

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Angels on Earth

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: “CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! I love your writing sm <3

this is my first time ever making a request and recently I found out that the person I was dating is still in love with their ex so I'm looking for comfort rn hehe

could you do a 23, 33, 35 with Ron, a mix of fluff and smut? chubby/plus size fem reader please”

Summary: Ron thought he was obvious, but it was clear (Y/n) was more obvious.

Warnings: Sexual themes

A/N: This took a while but I’ve also been busy but, enjoy!

23. “Cause I never believed there was a heaven till I found you.”

33. “Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” “I’d fuck you right now.”

35. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.”

For as long as Ron could remember, he had always found his potions partner to be beautiful. Who could blame him? (Y/n) was a beautiful girl. Round cheeks, soft all around, beautiful (h/c) hair, and the prettiest set of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. But that wasn’t originally what drew him in, it was everything else. (Y/n) had an aura that surrounded her that was so bright, so full of life. Everyone who befriended her was always in a positive mood, smiles seen left and right from the jokes she’d tell. Even right now, with her hair pulled back from her face and the cute little goggles she insisted on wearing, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Right. I think that should be it.” She said, pushing the goggles up her face as she turned her head to look at him. His face flushed and if she had noticed, she didn’t say much. “That is unless you fucked something up. Merlin knows how bad you are with Potions Weasley.” she giggled, his heart pulling and racing in his chest.

“Oi! ‘M not that bad. Plus you didn’t let me touch anything, should be fine unless you managed to make a mistake.” He leaned towards her a bit with a devious smirk. “But it’s impossible for you to do that isn’t it? I forgot you were just a perfect princess.” He pulled away, eyes trained on the potion in the cauldron in front of them. Amortentia, was it? He found it a bit strange because he couldn’t smell anything but the girl’s perfume no matter how far he leaned in. In his own state of confusion, he completely missed the girl’s own shocked look on her face.

“What do you smell?” she questioned, gathering her things due to the period drawing to a close. His eyes widened at his realization before calming down. Now was a better time than ever. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“You.” his eyes shot open at the sound of a snort. (Y/n) had made her way towards the exit of the potions room, (e/c) eyes rolling at him as she shot him a smile. She went to leave the room before giving him an up and down.

“If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.” she teased, shooting him a wink before exiting the room. He groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face as he adjusted the awkward bulge in his pants. He stood, gathering his things as he huffed to himself.

“I’m in deep aren’t I?” he said out loud, ignoring the look his slimy potion’s teacher gave him. Without another word, he left continuing on his path to his next dreadful class of the day.

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

“She probably thought you were joking.” Harry said, causing Ron to give him a glare. Even though there was a big possibility that Harry was right, he didn’t want to believe him. He thought his attempt was a good one! He was direct about what he meant, right?

“He’s got a point. You guys usually joke around and mess with each other a lot. She probably thought you were cracking a joke. Have you tried just telling her how you feel?” Luna asked as if the answer was obvious. Ron felt his brow twitch as he sighed, sinking down in his seat more as he threw his head back.

“What can be more obvious than saying you smell someone in your Amortentia? Do you guys even think?” He questioned.

“Do you? Cause if you did then you’d know that was a poor attempt.” Hermione chimed. Although at first he was sure his attempt was good, that it was obvious, suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts. Was he clear enough? Sure, you could say one thing but he’d be the first to admit his actions didn’t match. He huffed, looking at his friends, desperation hidden in his eyes.

“Well, what should I say then?”

“Say something truthful! Let your heart speak for what your actions couldn’t.” Ginny chimed, causing them all to give her a strange look. She crossed her arms, looking away with red cheeks. “What? I think I’d know what chicks like, I do shag em afterall.”

“So tell us, what does your heart say Ron?” Luna asked, he sighed as he racked his brain. He liked her a lot. How could he not? (Y/n) was beautiful, a gift from the heavens above. The softness of her skin, the roundness of her tummy, and those beautiful luscious thighs. He was surprised no one else had made a move on her yet. She was kind too, always willing to help her fellow (y/h/h) in need.

A lovesick dopey look took over his face. “I...I’d say…” he let out a dreamy noise as hearts took over his eyes, “I never believed there was a heaven till I found you. Never believed angels walked among us at Hogwarts, that I think she’s amazing and I-”

“Okay ew that’s enough. I’m gonna be sick. Save it for her.” his sister said, grimacing as she stood up. “And with that note, I’m gone. Why not tell her at the Gryfindor party tonight? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Ron gulped nervously. That soon? Surely a few hours wasn’t enough time to prepare! Maybe he’d try in a few months…

However as he looked across the hall, seeing some twit practically eye fucking her, it was settled. Tonight he would tell her and if not, he’d at least make some progress.

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

Ron let out a shaky deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his jeans. Whether it was the sweltering heat of all the warm bodies, the shots he had taken, or the thought of what he had set out to do tonight he didn’t know, but either way he was burning like a phoenix. His eyes trailed the room nervously, looking for (Y/n). How was he sure she’d be here anyways? She wasn’t a frequent attender to parties, only showing up to them sporadically. However at the sound of a familiar laugh-snort combo, he had all he needed.

In his buzzed(and slightly drunken) haze, he followed the sound blindly, face heating up at the girl's appearance. She wore a blush colored bodycon dress that clung to the folds and curves of her body nicely.. Her hair was styled differently than usual, but suited her perfectly nonetheless. Most things did. And when she saw him? Her face broke out in a bright smile as she hiccuped, handing her half empty cup to one of her friends. She stumbled her way over to him. He steadied her by placing his hand on her waist, looking down at her.

“Ronnn! Omg Ronnie, what’re you doing here?” she hiccuped again, giggling as she stared up at him. He smiled back at her softly, stroking along the softness of her waist.

“ I could ask you the same thing, love, you’re not much of a drinker usually.” he placed a hand on her cheek, thankful for the liquid courage flowing through his system. “You alright? Come on, let’s sit you down. You don’t seem to be too steady.” he said, guidning her towards the couch. When they got there, he expected her to sit next to him but was in shock as she parked herself in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling down at him drunkenly. He handed her a glass of water, the same one he had been handed earlier when he was getting a bit out of hand. She thanked him, sipping on it at a slow pace.

After a few minutes, the hiccuping and giggles had died down from her, leaving her to form goosebumps at their current position. She was fully seated on the boy’s lap and he had his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his fingers along her soft pudgy sides. She bit her lip as she looked off to the side, before bringing her eyes back to his.

“Uh, Ron,” she started, looking down as she picked at the skin around her nail beds. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “Can I ask you something?” her heart began to race rapidly as she looked at him, watching as he nodded before offering her a soft smile.

“Course. What’s up?” How should she phrase it? Should she be simple? Should she-

“Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” she blurted out, eyes widening. Although she had wanted to ask him something about if he was attracted to her, she hadn’t intended on being so...bold. She was known for speaking her mind but not in situations like this! In a state of panic, she went to stand up but was pulled down by a strong pair of arms, pulling her close to an even stronger, toned chest. He chuckled in her ears, hair tickling the edge of her neck.

“Shit princess, I mean...I’d fuck you right now.” his grip on her sides tightened, trailing one hand on her thigh. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this was the last one Ron expected. (Y/n), his snarky potions partner, in his lap in that god forsaken dress asking if he’d fuck her. He felt his own heart begin to race. Did she mean to say it? Well, did she mean to say it to him? Or did she just want his opinion for someone else?

“O-oh.” she stuttered out. (Y/n) pulled back some, turning her head to look at him, finding that his eyes instantly were drawn to hers.

“Do you mean that?” they both asked. Ron’s cheeks turned red as (Y/n) felt her own face grow warm. Both of them let out breaths they didn’t even know they were holding, laughing with one another.

“I meant it but, did you?” she asked, breath hitching of the closeness of their faces to one another. She could smell the fire whiskey mixed with hints of cannabis and weed mixing with it making her absolutely intoxicated. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.

“‘Course I did, love. You don’t have to be skinny for me to do anything with you, let alone fuck you. Because trust me,” he trailed a hand along her upper thigh, sliding it between the soft expanse of them. “It’d be my pleasure to fuck a woman with a body like yours. A woman so soft, so tender, bet that cunt of yours is tight and dripping. Isn’t it?” the girl squeaked, clenching her thighs around his hand. He leaned down, pecking her lips softly before pulling away, (Y/n) whimpering in a desperate attempt to let him know she wanted more..

“And if I were to grant you that pleasure right now?” she purred, placing a soft hand on his cheek which he gladly leaned into, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“I’d be the luckiest man alive.”

#ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ronald weasley x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron x reader #ron x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #chubby reader #x chubby reader #chubby!reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader

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dienamights · 3 years

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A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

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The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you.

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work.

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,”

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement.

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible.

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-”

“How is your hero boyfriend?”

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention.

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change.

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?”

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior.

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention.

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful.

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it.

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time.

He told me so.

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.”

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt.

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.”

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek.

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it.

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

hullo, hope ur having a great day. Do you know that thing where people’s girlfriend shows their boyfriend how a tampon works? Like they demonstrate using a bottle and show their boyfriends, can I have that for the big three? ty and godbless 😚

how it works

character(s) : midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki

legend : [Y/N = your name] quirk not specific, i used they/them pronouns but Y/N has a 🐱

headcanon type : crack (literally one mildy dirty joke from bakugou but that’s it)

note(s) : anon specified that they meant the main three in another message so,, do not be confused with that part. uhh i don’t use tampons either so how they worked really confused me 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

to start off with this post, i’d say you’d have to show him. like— he’s not the type to straight up ask you how a tampon works

but he is kinda curious so..

he lives with his mom, and only his mom. so it’s not like periods are a totally foreign subject to him. BUT HIS MOM DIDN’T SHOW HIM HOW TAMPONS WORK

and he didn’t have any female friends, or any girlfriends before you so.. yeah.

moving on, he’ll get all red and flustered when you first ask him-

“izuku, do you know how tampons work?” it was wrong of you to ask him while he was STUDYING

“t-tampons??” he’ll immediately drop his pen, the blood rushing to his cheeks immediately.

but, because izuku is quite CURIOUS, he’ll say yes. he probably wouldn’t have gotten the guts to ask you upfront anyway

you prepare a clear reusable cup, and you’d fill it with water as you get ready the tampon

“ok, so this is how it works.”

you say that as a warning, just before you plung the tampon into the water

and izuku’s there, nodding— waiting for you to demonstrate to him how it works he sounded really excited NJWJDWJ

anyways, you dip the tampon into the water— and izuku’s eyes widen like saucers when he sees it EXPAND

holding it up, you show him what it looks like, the size of the tampon expanding twice it’s size in a matter of seconds.

“o-oh.” izuku lets out, startled.

he’ll start glancing back and forth between the wall, and the soaked material— clearly flustered, and also unsure what he’s looking at.

“does it really get that big?” he asks in a whisper like tone, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him

and you just nod, amused by izuku’s face— which is literally like this 😳

needless to say, he has a lot of respect for you. especially if you can use tampons so casually

but at least he knows how it works, but this will probably keep him awake at night for a bit

out of all of the characters in this list, he’s the most mortified (in a way) it’s almost amusing.

todoroki shouto

shouto will just straight up ask you himself.

pure definition of shower thoughts. he thinks a lot in the shower (thus why he’s kind of a conspiracy theorist.)

so he probably thought of that during the shower— and he didn’t really wanna ask just any of his girl classmates.

yeah, he has a sister. but all she ever did was disappear for a few days once a month,

he obviously has his mother too, he wasn’t exactly close to her either because he was isolated from his mom, and even his own siblings

but then he remembers he has you, his s/o so..

he immediately rushing towards you, entering your room in his usual manner, asking you how it works (with his blunt nature of course)

and you’re just like 🤠❓❓ “..why do you wanna know”

shouto just tilts his head, “i thought of it during the shower.” his curiosity quite raw “and.. i have no one else to ask.”

and you can tell he means well so.. you kiss his cheek and stand up “alright! follow me.”

fastforward, you sit on the counter as you fill a clear glass with water, while you prepare the tampon

“you ready, shou?” again, you say that as if you were warning him— but he only nods, watching attentively to see what would happen.

you dip the tampon in the cup, and it immediately absorbs the water— expanding by a lot

the color in shouto’s face drains, and he’s just there like 😦 “woah.”

“it expanded by a lot.”

“yeah, it does that.”

“can you feel it when it expands?” shouto asks, holding the string to check how heavy it is

and unlike the other two in this list, he’s brave enough to actually hold the string, not disgusted whatsoever

“hm.. i don’t know? it feels normal.” you shrug, opting to just look at shouto’s reaction

“i see.” he nods, “thanks, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek, before hoisting you off the counter

he’s glad he knows but.. he has a lot of respect for you if you can wear one every month.

homeboy just thought it just stayed like that the entire time

out of all of the boys, he’s more chill— seeing that for the first time. but he’ll probably ask if you want to use pads out of concern NWNSNSJZ

bakugou katsuki

no.

nope.

he does not want to know.

it probably came across his mind a couple of times before, but as of now? he’s not curious. not in the slightest

it’s not like he thinks periods and tampons are gross. he respects you for dealing with that shit— but he’s just not curious.

on the contrary, you still ask him if he wants to know how tampons work.

in this case, you use pads— but you already know it expands to that size already.

“kats, are you curious as to how tampons work?” you ask him one day, when you guys are just relaxing in your room

he turns his head slowly, looking at you in the eye “... no.”

“why though??”

“don’t you just plug ‘em in, and then take it out?” katsuki rolls his eyes as if it was that simple

“it’s not that simple though,”

“i still don’t wanna know.” katsuki insists, voice gruff “actually.. why are you asking me? don’t ‘cha use pads or some shit?”

he’s right but you choose to ignore him

“so you wanna die one day, knowing you don’t know how tampons work?” you tease, grinning at him

he only rolls his eyes. he doesn’t really want to know, but again— he can’t really resist you anyway

so he finally says yes. “fineee. but make it quick.”

moments later, you’re in the bathroom, filling a clear cup with water. katsuki just stands by the door way, watching you prepare the items

for dramatic effect, you added red food coloring, which earned a scoff from your boyfriend “what’s the food coloring for?”

“dramatic effect. and also accuracy.” bakugou only grimaces

you tell him to go closer, moments before you show him “okay. you’re about to see how this works.”

“just get on with it,” he says, feigning impatience— but you know he’s actually watching

you dip it in, and katsuki had to do a literal double take— watching how a small cylinder turned into a weird.. red floppy sponge

bakugou’s standing there, a hand on his hip like 🤨 “what am i even looking at?” his ears cringe at the sound of it dripping back into the cup

and your face is just 😟 huh BECAUSE YOU USE PADS AJDJWJSJ

“i.. don’t know??” you laugh at his reaction, and he honestly doesn’t wanna hold it even though he knows it’s just water with food coloring

“it was literally a cylinder a second ago.” he comments outloud, brows furrowed and face contorted in utter confusion.

“i know right?” you comment in amusement, “i mean.. i knew how it works but i never saw this in person.”

“ah yeah, it’s because you use diapers.”

katsuki teases. you know he’s just joking, but you still glare at him like 👺

and he just holds his hands up in resignation “sorry.”

in short, it was quite weird to see it expand in real time. but at least bakugou katsuki knows how tampons work.

“but i’m still bigger.” katsuki kisses your temple, before turning around and exiting the bathroom— going back to your bed.

you’re appalled.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, and use my work for audio readings without my permission :))

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sunflowerdarlingx · 3 years

Text

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date” 3

H everyone, I hope you’re all okay!

PART ONE

PART TWO

Thank you all for the kind comments on the previous parts of this imaine. I post these chapters before I go to sleep and waking up to all your lovely comments and messages really give me the best start to the day.

This is the final part to this series. I’ve had a lot more interaction with people from this story so if anyone would like to request a piece please let me know :)

I hope you all liked the ending, it’s a bit longer than I thought but hopefully its what you all wanted x

Female Reader.

Warnings: None

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Fred felt his chest get tight, the sound of her voice alone made his heart ache. He felt the overwhelming need to cry again, tears threatening to spill whilst a lump formed in his throat. Fuck she can’t see me like this.

His body urged him to look at her, he sucked a deep breath in and turned his head to look at her, shit she looks so fucking cute. She was stood in a pair of shorts and one of Fred’s hoodies with a blanket wrapped around her loosely. Her hair was messy, and her glasses were resting a little low on her nose before she pushed them up.

His eyes trailed down her body, he felt a small sense of pride seeing her in his hoodie, like he had some sort of claim on her when she wore it. Take that perfect Diggory, she likes my clothes better. I wonder if she wears it when she’s with him?

Fred hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring for, “I..if not I’ll just go, sorry Freddie, for interrupting” Y/N turned on her heels, tears blurring her vision before he made a noise. A sort of squeak left his mouth before he cleared his throat “it’s okay, you can join me”, his hand patted the spot next to him.

She patted her hand on the grass to make sure it wasn’t wet before sitting beside Fred. The sat in silence for a bit before Y/N decide to speak, “I’m sorry Freddie, I’m not really sure what I’ve done but I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I don’t like seeing you upset… especially if I’m the one who caused it” her voice broke and Fred looked down at her, even sitting down he still towered over her slightly.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder “don’t worry about it” a fake smile took over his face. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, he really did but she was with Diggory now.

“W..what did I do Freddie?” Her voice was a hushed whisper as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Fred looked down at her, internally battling himself about what he should say. He wanted to tell her, he hoped she would change her mind, but if he told her, would she leave him? She had become one of his closest friends, the thought of not having her in his life at all was a thought he wanted to have.

Fuck it.

“I em…I saw you and Diggory, outside the kitchens”, that statement alone filled his body with anger as it replayed in his head, Diggory making her laugh, touching her, kissing her. His body tensed beside her, he removed his arm from her shoulders, his jaw clenched and he averted his gaze back up to the sky, sending the moon a deadly glare.

“Oh…that was nothing” Y/N noticed the shift in Fred, she couldn’t help but admire him in that moment, the way the moon reflected on his skin, the way his jaw tensed and honestly she thought he looked sexy.

Fred averted his gaze back to her and watched her closely, the way her eyes skimmed his body, “didn’t look like nothing to me” his voice was cold.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, shocked at his tone, “it didn’t mean anything Freddie” she placed her and on his shoulder, “it just sort of happened”.

“Well I heard you were very cosy behind me at dinner so it must have meant something” he shrugged her hand off his shoulder. He usually loved having her touch him but he was angry, so fucking angry.

He wondered what had happened once he left, for all he knows the exact same hands that were touching him had been all over Diggory. That then lead to him thinking about Diggory having his hands all over Y/N, touching her and holding her all the ways that Fred wished he could have done.

Y/N was close to getting up and leaving, she was hurt by Fred’s words, why did he hate Cedric so much? So what if they kissed? Then realisation hit, “Freddie, are you jealous?”, his head shot down to face her.

“No, I don’t get jealous” he stated. Shifting slightly, his eyes were dark as they stared into hers, his jaw still tense.

“Yes you are” she chuckled lightly “you’re jealous because Cedric kissed me”.

Fred groaned, his chest heaved slightly whilst the moment replayed in his head again “ugh don’t remind me, you shouldn’t have kissed him”

“Why?” her perfect doe eye looked up at him through her glasses, batting her eyelashes as innocence filled her eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t know” he grunted and looked back up to the sky.

“Well Freddie I don’t know, why shouldn’t I kiss Cedric?”

“Cause you should be kissing me Y/N, not Cedric! For the last god knows how many weeks we’ve spend so much time together, a lot more than you and perfect Diggory have and you still chose him! We’ve been on dates down to Hogsmeade, spent nights cuddled up sleeping in the common room and even talked about spending Christmas together! Like what on earth went through that pretty little head of yours when you decided to kiss him? Is he really that much better than me?” Fred’s whole body had turned to Y/N, his eyes pleading with her for some sort of explanation as to why she chose Diggory.

She smiled slightly “Freddie, did you ever actually state that those were dates or ever ask me to go on a date with you?”

His eyes widened “no, I thought it was fairly obvious what they were” he huffed.

She turned to the side and sat up on her knees, “how many girls have you taken on dates from school?”.

The question shocked Fred, why was she asking about other girls?

“None, I don’t date girls”

“So, why did you think I would just assume they were dates?”, Y/N was confused, she never really thought Fred would like her like that, obviously what she was told today gave her a hint but she never knew what to think about the dates, she could only hope they meant as much to Fred as they did her.

Fred couldn’t come up with an answer, he sat with his mouth open and closing like a fish out of water for a minute and a half, “it wasn’t obvious?”.Y/N shook her head no. “Well what did you thunk they were?” he was so curious as to how she never figured out they were dates.

“Well I… I mean I thought we were just hanging out. I kinda hoped they were dates but you don’t exactly have the reputation for dating do you Freddie? I kinda just always thought I was like Angelina or Katie or Alicia. I always wanted to ask but I was scared, I didn’t want to lose you as a friend”

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was his reputation really that bad? I mean just because everyone knew he didn’t date didn’t mean he never dated anyone. “Oh” was all that left his mouth.

“Yeah, oh” Y/N chuckled as she watched Fred’s brows knit together as his thoughts took over.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Fred decided to speak “so, say if you knew they were like… official dates, would you have kissed Diggory?”

“Of course I wouldn’t have” she shook her head quickly.

“Would you have kissed me instead?” A cheeky grin took over Fred’s face.

“If I knew they were dates I would have kissed you the first night we came out here” she giggled and Fred couldn’t help but grin.

“So what’s going on with you and Diggory then?” Even saying his name pissed Fred off.

“Nothing, he kissed me and then sat with me at dinner out of the blue, I’d hardly call that dating”.

“What about me and you? Are we…you know…dating? Just since we’ve agreed that we have been on plenty of dates” he emphasised plenty as he chuckled at her.

“Well that’s up to you Freddie, I thought you didn’t date” she teased, poking his chest.

“I don’t date, unless I know the girl is right for me and someone I can see a future with so…”

“You see a future with me?” She interrupted him mid sentence.

“Of course I do, the second I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were special. You literally took my breath away that day on the train, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you. And these last few weeks…months, have only shown me how well we work together. Seeing you every morning in the hall just makes me feel so.. so good, and then when we are alone it’s like no one else exists. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, I’ve had my guard up for so long, sticking with people I know and am comfortable around and then you came along and the walls I’d built up crumbled. I’ve told you things that not even George knows. I just can’t explain it, I think that if I lost you now I’d be lost.”

A few tears slipped down Y/N’s cheek whilst Fred spoke. He looked back up at the stars and wrapped his arm around her waist beside him.

“Of course I can see a future with you, I picture it all the time. We’d have our own little house out in the country and a massive garden where the kids could play quidditch or some muggle sport that you’d get them into and we’d have a good space for outside summer parties like what we have at the burrow. Our kids would each have their own room so they didn’t have to share like George and I and they’d be little pranksters like me but just as smart and talented as you. oh and we’d have a dog, mum never let me have one …”

“We’d have kids?” Y/N’s soft voice brought Fred back to reality.

He looked down at her “of course we would” he smiled “and we’d have a big wedding, like what Bill and Fleur are planning but we’d have to wait a bit after school before all that started”

“Wow…you’ve really thought all this through Freddie” she giggled “so now that I know all about the future that you have planned for us, what do we do now?”

Fred gave her a puzzled look raising his eyebrows whilst he raked his brain for an answer. “Uh….”

Y/N laughed “shouldn’t you ask me something?”

“Oh yeah right, I forgot. Would you like to go on a a date with me?”.

Y/N frowned slightly, Fred’s eyes widened “what did I do something wrong?”

“No..it’s just… never mind. I’d love to go on a date with you” She smiled up to him, cuddling into his side. As much as she would have loved the official title of being his she would wait as long as it took.

He pulled her blanket away from her and wrapped it around him. “Oi Freddie that’s mine, give it back” she giggled as she tried to pull the blanket back from him. Fred stretched his arm and held the blanket away from her, she got on her knees and leaned over Fred trying to get it. She placed her knees at either side of his thighs as she tried to reach over.

She finally gave up and rested in his lap, “Freddie it’s cold” she pouted. Fred’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the position they were in. His eyes looked at her lips, then her eyes and then her lips again. God he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to see how it felt.

Y/N leaned forward and placed her lips on Fred, he was surprised that she initiated the kiss but quickly responded, his hands dropped her blanket and went to her hips and pulled her closer to him, making sure his hands didn’t sit to low. His tongue glided across her bottom lip asking for entrance which she gladly excepted, their lips moving in perfect harmony.

Y/N couldn’t help but think about how right this felt, Cedric was nothing compared to Fred, as cliché as it sounds she saw fireworks and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

Fred had never had a kiss this good, in all honesty he never really kissed the girls he had sex with, it just made the encounter far to intimate for him. But kissing Y/N felt amazing, he loved being so close to her. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers “I hope you know you’re mine now”, Y/N nodded eagerly before pulling him close for another kiss.

They spent the rest of the night cuddled up under the stars watching as the sun came out. They walked hand in hand to the castle and sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. George was the first to come down and see them sat together “ah no more tears over Y/N then Freddie, did you finally convince her to give you a chance?” he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

“Yes Georgie he did” George choked on his juice slightly before grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Finally! It’s taken you both long enough, sorry for the glares yesterday Y/N, they were mainly at Diggory, I just don’t like seeing Fred upset”.

Y/N just shrugged before smiling at George “It’s okay Georgie, I don’t like seeing him upset either” she laughed and took a bite of the strawberry she was eating.

The rest of Fred’s friends came down, congratulating the two for finally getting together. Ginny came and sat with them, a big grin on her face. “All worked out in the end then ay Freddie” she teased as she ruffled his hair, “you made the right choice Y/N, perfect diggory is nothing compared to our Freddie”.

Fred rolled his eyes as Y/N chuckled “you’re right about that”. They ate their breakfast in peace, Fred noticed Cedric come in and pulled Y/N close for a passionate kiss, all of his friends whooping and cheering making sure everyone’s eyes were drawn to them. They both pulled away, Y/N blushing and burying her head in Fred’s chest.

Ron came over just as they were leaving “here’s the letter to mum gin, just Fred and George left to say if they’re taking anyone home for Christmas” he handed the parchment to George who lazily scribbled Lee’s name down with a little message before handing it to Fred.

“Do you still want to come?” he looked down to Y/N whilst everyone else engaged in conversation, “If you want me to come I’m there” she smiled up at him and watched him scribble on the parchment.

Hi mum,

I hope you and dad are good, I miss you both.

I’m going to take my girlfriend home for Christmas, her name is Y/N Y/L/N, give her a sweater that would fit me please – she keeps stealing mine!

See you soon.

Love, Freddie x

He handed the letter back to Ginny before pulling Y/N away from the table, “time for our first date as official boyfriend and Girlfriend” he smirked before leading her to one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade.

Having his girlfriend at the burrow for Christmas was everything Fred wanted and more. He never realised how much he had missed out on. They spent their days cuddled up on the couch watching old films whilst drinking hot chocolate, or out in the snow sledding or building snowmen. Every night was filled with more movies, games and of course Y/N reading muggle tales to Fred as they cuddled in front of the fire (although some of those tales were interrupted by mr Weasley who was so fascinated by the things muggles came up with in their stories).

It was Christmas Eve and all of the family were heading up to their rooms, Fred tugged Y/N over to the front door and slid her jacket over her shoulders before securing her hat to her head and tying her scarf loosely around her neck. “Get on your boots cutie, I’ve got a surprise”. As Y/N got on her wellies, Mrs Weasley came over with a basket in hand.

“Everything you asked for Freddie” she popped it on the floor, “good night dearie, Freddie is so lucky to have found you” she wrapped her arms around Y/N, she did the same to Fred after he was ready. Walking over to the stairs she stopped and turned on her heels “remember when you get back to go to your separate rooms, I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet” with a wink she made her way up the stairs.

“She’s honestly something else” Fred chuckled taking Y/N’s hand in his and leading her out to the garden.

“I think she’s great”

Fred used his wand to conjure up a seating area for the two of them and a little fire in front of them. In the basket was blankets, two mugs, a flask of hot chocolate and some marshmallows.

“Freddie this looks great” Y/N couldn’t help but smile at Fred, she was so lucky to have him.

He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch, “five minutes to go” he wrapped a blanket around them both before getting the hot chocolate for them.

He wrapped an arm around them as they watched the stars “they look so much prettier here than they do at school” Y/N looked up at Fred who was already watching her.

“You look just as pretty here as you do at school” he kissed her forehead. The clock struck midnight and suddenly fireworks started going off.

Red ones, green ones, white ones, ones in the shape of Santa, ones in the shape of snowmen, Y/N couldn’t look away from them, they were beautiful. Suddenly the fireworks made two figures, they showed two people that Y/N recognised very clearly, it was her and Fred sat in two chairs, the scene sort of reminded her of the times they spent in the library. Next showed the two of them near a circle of blue, this reminded her of all the times they’d spent at the black lake.

Finally the fireworks showed them kissing and “merry Christmas Y/N” was spelt above them, with “I love you” underneath.

Y/N gasped as she looked over at Fred, a few tears had escaped her eyes and Fred softly wiped his thumb across her cheek, smiling down at her. “Do you really?” She asked in disbelief.

“I love you” he placed a kiss to her lips, slow and gentle before pulling back. Y/N was practically grinning from ear to ear “I love you too Freddie”. They sat outside a little longer continuously saying those three special words to each other. They made their way back inside, sitting on the couch for a cuddle before bed. “Merry Christmas Freddie” Y/N yawned and cuddled into his chest.

“Merry Christmas cutie” he kissed her forehead, his eyes shut.

They woke up the next morning to Mrs Weasley standing above them “I said separate rooms” she said sternly before breaking out into a smile “merry Christmas you two” she kissed both of their foreheads before going into the kitchen.

Fred and Y/N were the first ones up, when they joined her in the kitchen they both apologies only to be waved off my Molly.

Soon it was time for presents, everyone received a jumper from Mrs Weasley and she followed Fred’s instructions, ensuring the jumper with Y/N’s initial was the same size as Fred’s.

Fred and Y/N left opening each other’s presents until last. Y/N got Fred a new beater for quidditch, some sweeties from honeydukes and a big teddy in the shape of a dog, “I know how much you’ve always wanted one” she winked. Fred grinned from ear to ear as he showed off his new bat to George.

It was now Y/N’s turn, there was a small box on the floor with her name on it, she carefully took off the wrapping paper and opened the box to reveal the most beautiful bracelet she had ever seen, there was a W charm attached with a broom and a star either side. “Oh Freddie I love it, thank you so much!” she practically flew into Fred’s arms giving him a big cuddle and a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered into her ear.

“I love you too”

Tagged

@jenniweaslee @britishspidey @parkeroffline @westyywifee @gloryekaterina @pineapplesandpinas @manuosorioh @itsbebeyyy @nojamsonmytoast @blackqueens01 @mahvelous @supermassiveblackhope @justmesadgirl @fandomlovver

#Fred weasley imagine #Fred weasley smut #Fred weasley x reader

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hunflowers · 3 years

Text

okay inspired by dwd suit wearing harry :) enjoy *nose boops*

You haven’t seen Harry in a couple months now. At least not physically, what with guidelines for his new movie and the restrictions of quarantine in general.

Whenever his name does pop up on your phone you can’t hide the smile that breaks out onto your face, especially when it’s a facetime call so you can see him in real time. This day however was a little different. He texted you bright and early -- at least for him because of the time difference -- saying he won’t be able to talk much because a busy day lies ahead of him. A frown nestled into your features at the misfortune, but you replied back with understanding.

It came as a surprise a couple hours later though, when he texted you a picture of himself in a full body mirror, adorned in a caribbean blue suit and a matching striped tie, with the message of Do you like it?

Your mouth dropped at the sight, and you’re pretty sure a bit of saliva slipped past your lips too. His hair was parted in meticulous manner that truly gave him the proper 50s vibe, and his clean shaven face was the true cherry on top that had your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pull him close, preferably by the tie around his neck, and plaster lipstick stains across his jaw while carding your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you rocked your hips together.

You had to close your legs at the wormhole your brain was going into, biting your lip into your mouth as you wished he were next to you. I like it a lot :(

Why the sad face?

Because I want to rip it off of you.

You giggled as you saw the daunting three dots appear then disappear a few times, before he replied with a quick Don’t start. He’s at work, so it’s selfish to rile him up especially when it seems he’s about to shoot his next scene, but you couldn’t stop the wink face you sent back along with:

Can’t stop thinking of me on my knees for you.

Wouldn’t you like that?

Unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down with my teeth just like you taught? Leaving the whole suit on as you fuck my mouth?

Hearing me gagging for you, choking on you as I feel you down my throat.

As much as you think you’re making him suffer, you’ve punished yourself just as badly. You were mindlessly watching your current TV fixation, sipping on a glass of wine, but now all you could think about was him and how he wasn’t by your side to help you out.

When Harry hadn’t responded for a couple minutes, you had half the mind to shove your hand in your panties and finish the job, and you were about to do it too, but you heard the familiar text tone. You pulled your phone close to you and read his daring message, causing you to bite your lip back into your mouth.

We’ll finish this later.

But then about an hour or so later you got another text from him, this time a picture of him in a brown suit with another tie to match. He said nothing aside from a teasing smiley face, because he knew the game he was playing. The brown one brought out the color of his eyes more, making you ogle just a little harder than the first, and making you crave him even more.

So, you got up from your spot on the couch and marched up to your room to find something to send back. You searched high and low for something worth your time until you finally found a time-piece. A light blue, see-through babydoll dress that you hadn’t worn since your first anniversary together. It came with a matching light blue thong and lace collar piece that you remember Harry practically frothing over the sight.

You quickly changed into it, and pulled your hair back before stepping closer to the full-length mirror in your closet. You angled yourself in a desirable way, and even brought your free hand’s thumb up to your mouth and nibbled on the tip of it as you snapped the picture. Satisfied with the photo on the fourth try, you sent it with a taunting caption of a typed heart.

He opened your message almost instantaneously, but had left you on read which caused your heart to sink a bit in your chest. But, you attributed it to him being called to set and picked your chin up and waltzed back downstairs in your new attire. You picked up your wine glass and continued with your show, simply waiting.

As time ticked on and your body grew sleepier, you were tempted to call it a night and text him saying you would continue this — whatever this is — tomorrow. But you kept your determination, because you missed your boyfriend and even if he couldn’t touch you, you knew he was going to make you cum. And besides, just when you started doubting him, that’s when he decided to ring you.

You picked up the phone giddily, the connecting ... under his name taunting you before his beautiful face popped up on your screen. You were ready to chirp a greeting at him, excited to talk to him after a long day but he was quicker to the punch.

“Y/N... y’had to send that while I’m working, did ya? Fuck, babe, do you understand how difficult it was to focus on set with that at the back of m’mind?” He ran his ring-less fingers through his shorter hair, and you noticed he was back in his hotel room. That’s a good thing, you thought, now you had no restrictions.

You pouted at him mockingly, “Oh no, you poor thing.”

He blinked at you once, then twice, before stating, “Get up. Let me see you.”

Because you were still downstairs, you trekked back up to your room, going over to the original mirror you took the photo in before flipping the camera around and showcasing yourself. You toyed with the hem of the dress, picking it a bit to give him a better viewing of your panties, to which he groaned in response.

“I’ve missed that little number. Remember the night you wore it? Could hardly walk for days after.”

You let out a breath at the thought, bringing your hand down and slightly grazing your throbbing clit for him to see, just at the mere thought.

He continued, “But that’s why you put it on isn’t it? Because you know it’s my favorite and I’m not there to put my hands on you. You wanted to get back at me for the pictures I sent — which, hardly even compare.”

You nodded your head in response, flipping the camera back around to face you as you stepped out of the closet and onto your bed. “Want you to miss me just as much as I miss you.”

“Oh, baby.... Words can’t describe how much I miss you. Look, I’ll show you how much I miss you,” and then the next thing you know, is he’s flipping the camera around and showing you his very hard cock.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, your free hand dipping into your baby blue thong and swiping your dripping folds and circling your wetness across your clit. “Show me how much you miss me too.”

You flipped your camera back around, letting him see your fingers slowly working your clit, hidden beneath the fabric of your panties. He groaned, telling you to give him a closer look, so — as comfortably as you could — you pushed your thong to the side and angled your phone so he had a better view of your soaked pussy.

“Shit Y/N– Push two fingers inside, imagine it’s me doing it,” he told, and you could see his fist beginning to pump his cock at a faster rate, him most likely imagining your smaller hand stroking him just like you usually do. You listened to him, inserting your ring and middle finger inside your wet hole, while keeping the heel of your palm pressed against your sensitive bud.

“Baby... I need you so bad,” you whined, softly hitting your front wall as you curled your fingers, before fastening your movements — like you know he would.

You watched him spread his precum around his shaft, paying extra attention to his tip before he thrusted his hips up into hand. “Ugh- I know baby, I need you too. Just a little while longer. Fuck yourself for me, y’can do that can’t you?”

You hummed back, picking up the pace of your hand, going the extra mile and pushing a third finger inside, causing you to screw your eyes shut in ecstasy.

“Wish it was you fucking me right now. Your big cock inside my tight pussy - shit - you fill me so good.”

You heard him groan at your words, mumbling a quiet ‘keep going,’ because he’s always been a fan of your dirty talk.

“Want your hand around my throat... squeezing me as I squeeze you. Wish you were hitting the spot only you could reach. God, want to feel me stretched around you, leaving me sore for days after you’re done. Do you want that too?” You felt the heat in the pit of your belly begin to stir, your palm pressing harder against your sensitivity.

“Could imagine your face pressed into the mattress as I take you from behind. Your tits in my hands — I miss them. Want m’mouth sucking on you... can’t cum yet, don’t even think about it, Y/N.”

You whined at the restriction, feeling your impending high reaching you. So, you helped him to his quicker. “H, H, H... miss having my lips around you. Love when you mess up my lipstick and it’s smeared all around you, mixed with saliva and cum. Never forget about your balls either, I kiss ‘em and suck on them, give them just the right amount of attention. Know you love when I press my finger into you too, hearing you moan until you’re coming down my throat.”

Back and forth for a few moments all you both could do was moan, wishing the other were by your side as you sent yourself into euphoric oblivion.

“Can I cum now? Please, please,” you begged, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“So close, babe, so – holy fuck — so close,” he murmured, twisting his wrist and keeping more of his focus on the base of dick now. “G’na cum with me?”

You whispered a ‘yes’ in response, your thighs beginning to shake as your toes curled into the bed sheets. Within seconds, hot lava coursed through your body as flashes of white danced across your eyes, you back arching off the mattress. You could hear Harry hitting his climax, your eyes opening quickly to watch him spray his orgasm all over his fist and stomach.

You nestled your head into your pillow as you brought the phone back up to your face, your eyes falling close as you let your body relax. Harry turned the camera back to him, getting up from his position to wash himself. You would get up eventually too, but you just laid and calmed yourself in the mean time as you watched him.

“Miss you,” you mumbled, tears threatening to break past your waterline as you wished you could snuggle up to him.

He looked at you, his mouth forming into a pout as you could hear the sink water running from the bathroom. “I know. Just a few more weeks and I’ll be home.”

#i’m back b-words #jk this is it until school is over #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles filth #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles

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thighs-of-betrayal-blog · 3 years

Note

Hey! Great work! Can I get some Steve trying to ask the reader out but getting too nervous every time until someone (maybe Sam or Buck or both haha) takes pity on him and does something to help the poor guy out?

Sometimes A Little Help is Needed

A/N: I’m so happy! This is my first Steve request!! I love this so much. Thank you for the request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy!! :)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem! Avenger! Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

“Just go ask Y/N out already, please. You’ve gotta stop staring all the time,” Bucky says, coming up behind Steve.

“He’s right,” Sam says. “You know it’s bad when the master of staring tells you to stop staring at someone.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Bucky says.

“Oh, that’s not true? Just yesterday you were…”

Sam is interrupted by Steve. “Stop it, both of you.” He turns to face them. “Now quick, what do I say?”

Sam places his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Just give ‘em that Steve Rogers charm. Ya know, walk up and say ‘hey, Y/N, I was thinking we should go dancing tonight. What do ya think?’”

Bucky shakes his head. “That’s a terrible idea. Steve can’t dance for shit.” He looks at Steve. “Just ask them out to dinner. You could go to that diner in Brooklyn.”

“That’s a great idea,” Steve says. He pats Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks, Buck.”

Steve starts walking towards you and stops halfway. You were sitting on a chair out on the balcony, reading a book. You looked beautiful. He couldn’t do this.

“I can’t,” Steve says as he turns around. “I just can’t.”

He walks out of the living room, leaving Bucky and Sam standing there confused.

“We’ve gotta do something,” Bucky says.

“I hate saying this, but I think you’re right. I know just the thing too.” Sam replies.

Bucky and Sam smirk at each other before walking away to set up their plan.

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

You walk into the kitchen, the delicious smell drawing you in. You stop when you see Bucky and Sam cooking, both wearing aprons.

“Hey, guys” you say. “What’re you cooking in here? It smells delicious.”

Sam quickly looks up at you before continuing to stir pasta in a pot. “Oh, hey, Y/N, fancy seeing you here. Bucky and I are just whipping up some chicken alfredo.”

Bucky lifts his head up from the oven to look at you. “Hey, Y/n!”

“Hey,” you laugh. “Since when do you two cook together?” you ask.

Sam walks up to Bucky and wraps his arm around his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We love each other.”

You look between the both of them. “Right,” you say. “So, is this dinner for you?”

Steve walks in right after you finish talking. “What’s going on here?” He turns to you and smiles. “Hey, Y/N.”

You smile back. “Hey, Steve. Looks like these boys are going to enjoy a fancy dinner together.”

Bucky moves to lay a cloth over the dining table, as well as two wine glasses and a bottle of wine, while Sam fills up two plates of food and sets them down.

Sam’s phone starts to go off. “Oh, shit, who could that be?” he says.

He runs out of the kitchen to answer the call.

“Well, I guess you two have fun,” you say, about to turn around to head back to your room.

Before you can leave, Sam runs back into the room. “Buck, we have to go.”

“What?” Bucky asks.

“Tony just called. We’re being sent on a mission. Got 15 minutes to pack and then we’ve gotta be on the quinjet.”

“Oh,” you say confused. “Well, good luck.”

Bucky and Sam start running out of the room.

“What about all this food?” you yell after them.

“You and Steve can have it!” Sam yells back. “Don’t let it go to waste!”

Steve looks down at the floor and blushes. They set this whole thing up.

“Unbelievable,” Steve whispers to himself.

You turn around to look at Steve. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “Uh, I was just thinking that we should eat this food together. Sam’s right, we shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

“Sounds good to me.” You sit down at the dining table, Steve sitting at the spot across from you.

Steve looks at you nervously.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, uh, well, no… I mean yes, everything is fine. There’s just something I need to tell you.”

“Okay…” you say. “You’re making me a little anxious here, Stevie.”

He puts his hands out. “No, no, don’t be anxious. I just, uh, well, you see, Sam and Bucky set this whole thing up.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks down at the table.

“Set what up?” you ask.

“This,” Steve gestures towards the food and wine. “I have been trying to ask you out for a few months now and each time, I chicken out. Sam and Bucky aren’t going on a mission. They made this food and then lied about having to leave, so we’d stay and eat it together. I didn’t know they were going to do this, I swear. I just pieced it together right after they left.”

You nod your head slowly. “I see.”

Steve gets up to come closer to you. “Look, Y/N. I’m so sorry if you’re uncomfortable. We can completely forget this ever happened and…”

You cut him off by kissing him.

When you lean back, you stare at Steve as he stands there with his eyes closed, a small smile on his face.

“Why don’t we go on a real date? Not one that Bucky and Sam awkwardly prepared.” you say.

Steve opens his eyes and looks at you. “Yeah, uh, how about that diner I told you about?”

You smile. “Sounds perfect. Want to go there now? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, beautiful, let’s go.”

Steve grabs your hand and leads you to the elevator.

Bucky and Sam watch you both leave from the room over.

“I can’t believe he didn’t ask Y/N to go dancing,” Sam says.

Bucky looks at him incredulously. “How many times do I have to say it. Steve can’t dance.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, tin man.”

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anonbeadraws · 4 years

Photo

So I caved and with @spacespectres help made an avatarsona! With a big chunky statement to go with it! (Trigger warnings for homophobia/transphobia, conversion therapy, death and parental abuse. Everyone gets just desserts though.)

‘I’m, actually not sure why I’m here. You can’t help me, my son is gone and the police arn't saying it but - I’m sorry, my ears are- It’s like- You know those alarms, the ones that are made to disperse kids at shopping centres, keep them from causing trouble- not that i think they work. you see more of them these days, scruffy and dirty, what their parents doing, i don’t- Anyway, it’s like that noise, that high buzz. it’s meant to be that, as you get older, your brain tunes it out, adults aren’t meant to hear it anymore, just keep on shopping without hoodlums hanging about outside smoking and throwing shit at the elderly. I don’t miss that, Ben’s smoking, i’ll say that. That’s awful to say, i bet you’re thinking, god how terrible, her child’s missing and she’s moaning about a few nicotine stains on the ceiling.

I know theres plenty that would call me a terrible mother anyway, i know the neighbours didn’t agree with my decision, the decision of a single mother, who struggled enough just to keep her child fed and watered and out of trouble, to then struggle to keep him from wearing my lipstick when i was out of the house-! I have no problem with the gays. I want to say that, have that clear. I just know, what he was doing, that wasn’t my Ben, that wasn’t my son and, the Helping House was what he needed. I’m his mum, i know what he needed, don’t care what his dad says. he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here to raise Ben, so he doesn’t-

The pamphlet was so nice, so professional and i checked it out online, all 5 stars, apart from the odd protester sticking his oar in, and it was- reassuring to know he’d be looked after, helped! Get what he needed. And he was fine when i left him there, with his old school backpack with all his bits in, the Helping staff there to welcome him. Reminded me a little of when he started primary school, he looked so small, all big eyes… They promised it’d be a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and then he could come home, all better.

I got to visit every weekend, which was nice! Sometimes brought him biscuits, can't beat home made, chatted a little. He still had that, that look from when i left, like he was little again, when i could tell he didn’t really want to leave me at the gates, he didn’t want to go in all alone, couldn’t we just go home instead mum? But i was strong. For him. I resisted.

I think, it was when that look started to go, that little boy look, replaced with something, i don’t really want to think about even now, that i really noticed the other patients. One in particular. He looked different from the others. Props to the Helping House, they keep, kept the kids tidy. it was actually lovely, real treat to see Ben all combed and neat, not smelling like his trash dump of a room. And not a whiff of smoke! i’d honestly not have been surprised if he’d snuck in some ciggies in but if he had, they must have confiscated em quick. No fags in the Helping House! I mean-! oh you know, what i mean!

But this one,.. they all dressed in clothes from home, apparently they worked out its better for the process, this one was a mess. Half shaved hair, no knees in the jeans and honestly, sunglasses indoors? who did He think he was!? Mick Jagger? He just slouched in the corner of the visiting room, looking out into the gardens, like he belonged there in that clean good place. They were nice gardens, well looked after, like the kids. I remember it was coming up summer, lots of lovely flowers. lots of happy bees.

Anyway, i did Not like how Ben looked over at, him, while we had our cups of tea. it was this, gooey soft look i’d never seen on him. later i remembered it. it was how his dad looked when we started courting. That cloying honey sweet love that turned sickly and choking far too quick. God, that look, on my boys face? You bet I had words with the staff before i went. I did not bring my boy here to get help and it be ruined by some hooligan with warped intentions. I made sure they understood. They didn't seem to know what i meant by the Sunglasses kid but it’s a big facility, probably get a lot of patients. Their success rate was incredible really, always seemed to be spaces open. Whatever they did, didn’t do a lot though. Cause i kept seeing him, every time i visited. And he drew a crowd. At first it was the ones who didn’t have family to come, poor dears. They’d be sat, close as they could to him. They had rules about touching in the Helping House, and rightly so, helps with, the temptation, but they’d sit there, close as they could to him, just listening, sun on their faces from the big glass window. Now that i’m thinking about it, I don’t think i remember ‘em blinking? Anyway, Could never hear what was said, what venom that creeper was pouring into their ears, whenever i tried to hear him over the other visitors, it just came over as a low buzz. Well, whatever it was, those kids were hooked. I didn't like it. And the next weekend, there more of ‘em! You’d have kids that’d be crying one week that their family hadn't come, who didn't give two shits the next, pardon my french. They’d be sat in the corner, happy sappy faces, listening to whatever nonsense that kid was murmuring to his little flock. They didn’t touch, not then, but it was a close thing, i remember being so shocked that nothing was being done about it. It was obviously a problem. that weirdo was the problem.

But my boy didn’t stray. He might’ve looked over at that hive of idiots who worked against what these good people were trying to do for them, with that… look. But he stayed and drank his tea with me like he should. He looked tired, but i knew that’s cause he was working hard, getting better. i got the reports.

But the last couple of visits, i come in and it’s just my boy in the visitors room. The rest were outside in the garden, in the flowers. All those kids, twenty or so of em, tangled in each other, touching and so close. I don’t think they were, Doing things but, it was against regulation for sure, and I stood up, to go do something, anything, even just yell at them to stop it, ask what they thought they were doing!? That’s when the Buzzing started. For a second i thought it was just a bee come in from the garden, poor little bumble trapped indoors but it was in my ears, in my head. It was nothing i’d ever felt before and I’ve had Tinitus and that’s a nasty bugger but it was more than that.

Been to the doctors since. Apparently they can’t work it out, whats causing it. All they can say was it wasn’t Tinitus.

I think it was, Sunglasses looking at me. I remember when i got up, to tell ‘em off, i remember light in the corner of my eye, like a reflection off glass. I think he turned, he knew i was going to stop em and he-

Last sunday was the last time, the last visit. Had a big tin of biscuits, gingerbread, Ben’s favourite, had some nice news about his cousin getting into uni, first in the family! Always had hopes Ben would be the second, but- Ben wasn’t waiting for me. He was outside. With Them.

Him.

There he was, holding the hand of that freak and the staff were just stood round like numpty’s doing nothing! Dumb faces and vacant as their patients were outside rolling about in the sun like it was the 60’s! And smoking! I thought, they must’ve found a stash cause i could see the smoke, swirling dark against the sky, dark against their smiling, stupid faces.

I was furious. i was, so angry.

I think thats why i did it. I was so angry that i couldn’t think of anything else to do but grab that sunglasses wearing freak who was corrupting my boy, who was holding his hand and steering him wrong and undoing all my work and love, and shake my anger out of him. I was yelling all that, yelling at him. I remember he was light, not as heavy as he should be, not for a kid his age and that he didn’t flinch. And he spoke to me, in that low drone that I thought had been just distance and space distorting his voice, but was just him, god it was just him.

I cant remember exactly what he said, something about love, real love, some hippy nonsense. No, i remember one thing. The little shit asked if i thought i was ‘my child’s real Family.” ‘Of course, i said, ‘i’m his mother’ Then he smiled, like i was wrong and i hated him. And I could see myself, in that dark reflection, in those stupid shades and i couldn’t stand it. I wish i hadn’t, done what i did. i just didn’t want to see myself in that black mirror anymore, all twisted and hateful. Turns out it was far nicer than what was behind them.

I let go, dropped it, that thing in ripped jeans and stripes and it fell into the flowers. There were so many happy bees. Thats when i heard the other kids. They had it’s voice, shared it’s voice, that drone. That buzz. i didn’t dare look at them. My ears, started up again, like before but, that sound, their sound, it made it louder and i honestly thought my head might explode and I turn to Ben, my boy, who had dropped to his knees in front of that thing, holding it’s hand and for a second, I thought he was smoking again, dark wisps coming from his downturned face and, I just, my fear turned to anger, for just a second, that he would do that here and now.

But I begged him to come away, to leave it alone, to get better, to just be my little boy again, to come home with mummy. Then he looked up, my Ben, and his face- it wasn’t smoke, it had never been smoke. it was the same as whatever had been bumbling around in the creature that still lay in the flowers but Ben smiled all the same. I, feel crazy, crazy saying it but- as the bees poured out of my little boy’s smiling mouth in that choking swarm, their buzzing droning out his words, my boys last-

My name is Sarah

i’d never seen him happier.

Apparently I fainted. Never fainted in my life, i’ll tell you, too tough for that sort of thing, but i must’ve. Police think it’s what saved me. I like to think otherwise. Officially, what happened was that the patients turned on the staff, killed em and left. Simple, explainable. Some sicko’s like to use what happened as an argument against conversion therapy, old hippy dykes that don’t have enough to picket over, idiots. They didn’t see the bodies, they didn’t see what those ‘helpless victims’ did- They dragged them outside after they killed em, into the sun, into the flowers. I remember waking up once, amongst all the dead. Happy bees, dipping their beaks into the blood of the doctors. Plenty of sugar in blood, I read.

Ben was all i had left, my only family. I don’t have no one left. You don’t get many visitor when the papers insist you made your kid a killer. Don’t even get phone calls from Dave anymore, but i call that blessing. He was barely Ben’s dad anyway. I’ve gotten used to the quiet. i go to work, i come home, watch a bit of telly. the buzz from the old tv only scares me a little. I know i did my best for him. i believe that, after everything. I wouldn’t be here though, if, there wasn’t, something else.

I had a visitor the yesterday. Wasn’t expecting it, thought it was a missionary, Jehovah’s or something. Was ready to tell them to piss off, i tell you. It was a girl. Said she was my daughter. she looked like my Ben, same smile, same funny little knees he used to scrape up, ones i used to kiss better. It wasn’t Ben. My Ben had eyes. My daughters words buzzed, like there was something in her throat. Perhaps the same things that crawled where her eyes would be, round and yellow and bumbling, i thought, and my head starting hurting again. She only stayed at the door, didn’t come in. She said she just wanted to say hello.

She said she’ll visit again.

That she’ll bring her family.

i don’t think she means me anymore.’ The magnus archives belongs to Rusty Quill, the above belongs to me!

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criminallyfanatic · 3 years

Text

Close One

Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Summary: The team don’t know you and Emily are dating, but an incident involving a white shirt and a glass of red wine might put that in jeopardy, and you don’t want to be the one to lose the bet

warnings: some swearing, the lead up to some sexy times but no actual sexy times

This fills my sharing clothes square for @cmbingo

The door flew open and she pulled you in, her lips against yours. The door swung shut behind you and you were pushed against it, her hands roving your body, goosebumps trailing behind them. Your hands wound into her hair, pulling her against you, drinking her in like a woman starved. Not until you were gasping for air did you pull apart, her forehead coming to rest against yours, the only sound your heavy breathing.

“Hi.” you huffed out a laugh, eyes flickering between her eyes and her lips.

“Hi yourself.” she shot you a smile, before pulling away.

Your limbs unwound from each other, your bodies moving away. You felt her loss as she moved further into the apartment, your body craving her close to you again. Following her, you saw the freshly opened wine bottle on the kitchen counter, the two glasses half poured. She topped them up and handed one to you, the smile still painted on her lips.

You both drank in silence for a moment, simply looking at one another, taking in her form. Her hands played with the stem of the glass and you found yourself staring, imagining all the things she could do with them. When you looked up you saw she had noticed where you had been staring, her eyes locking with yours. You felt your cheeks heat, caught in the act. She held your stare, the air between you warming.

Then she was on you, pulling you in again, glass discarded on the side. Her hands wound around your waist, pulling you closer, closer, her lips locked with yours. It happened so quickly you forgot the wine still sitting in your hand, and as you raised it you felt the liquid spill over down your white work shirt.

“Shit!”

She leapt from you as the wine spilled out, her hand coming to her mouth. “Oh god, I’m so sorry”. She reached for the tea towel on the counter, dabbing at the stain forming on your shirt. A seemingly innocuous move, but you felt your body warming as her hands moved across it. You reached out, placing the now considerably empty glass on the countertop, moving your hands to her wrists, stopping her in her frantic movements.

“It’s fine Em. Don’t worry about it.” Her hands stilled in their movements, hands resting on your torso. Her eyes still held the stain, eyebrows knitted in concern. You reached up your hand, lifting her chin so her eyes were level with yours, before placing a gentle kiss on her lips, cradling her chin with your thumb. As you kissed her, your other hand raised, pulling the buttons apart on the still wet top. She pulled away slightly, eyes flitting down to your movements.

Your hand fell from her chin, joining the other to speed up the process. She simply watched you, here eyes clouding with the thoughts of what was to come. You dropped the shirt on the floor, her hands now moving up your bare torso, making gentle circles with her fingertips. You shivered slightly, goosebumps once again trailing behind her fingers.

“You’re so pretty.” She whispered, dropping her head to your shoulder and peppering kissed into your neck. Her hands moved to grasp at your hips, pulling you against her.

“I think now it’s your turn.”

She lifted her head from your shoulder, a smirk gracing her lips. Grabbing your hand she pulled you towards the bedroom, her other hand making quick work of her shirt.

You lay next to each other, the sound of your breathing filling the silence. You looked across at her, her hair splayed across the pillow, the light from the lamp giving her skin a faint glow. Like an angel. Your hands followed the same paths her’s did early, drifting and swirling across her skin. You wished you could freeze this moment, stay in it forever. Let no distraction pulled you out of it, nothing from the outside world even -

“Shit.” the shrill sound of your phone buzzed from the pocket of your trousers, discarded in some corner of the room.

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said, rolling over to rest against you, pinning you to the bed, “It’s probably nothing.”

You almost believed her, willing yourself to lay back and forget all about it, until the telltale sound of Emily’s phone went off beside you. You both groaned. Typical.

She reached over to the bedside table, picking up her phone and checking the message before turning it to you.

Garcia: Hey lovely, we have a case, sorry x

Rising from the bed you began to pick up the clothes that were scattered across the floor, throwing various items of Emily’s at her, still lounging on the bed. You pulled them on as you found them, Emily still watching you, seemingly making no move to get up. At last you had everything on but your shirt, which was …

“Oh god.” You groaned, throwing your head back, thinking of the now ruined shirt still left on the kitchen floor.

“What?” she let out a small laugh at your display, pushing the hair from her eyes.

“My shirt. It’s ruined. I have another one in my go bag at the office, but I don’t particularly feel like having to explain why I’m turning up in a stained shirt. And I don’t think the FBI or your neighbours would appreciate me walking around shirtless.”

“Maybe not. But I certainly wouldn’t mind it.” You lobbed a pillow at her that had fallen on the floor as she laughed at you, catching it before it hit her in the face. “I don’t know why you’re so stressed about this. Just borrow something of mine.”

“You don’t think someone will notice?” As far as your fellow BAU members were aware, you and Emily were just ‘good friends’. They had absolutely no idea the two of you had been dating for the last few months. And you had to give it to the two of you, you were pretty good at sneaking around.

“Please. I think you give them too much credit.” She finally got out of the bed, moving to her wardrobe. She began pulling clothes out for her to wear, lobbing a turtleneck at you over her shoulder. “Now put that on and stop worrying.”

Emily made sure to arrive at the BAU before you. She lived closer so it made sense. It had began as a precaution, you didn’t want your relationship to affect the dynamic of the team, if it didn’t work out it could have ramifications, Hotch might not approve. But now it was fun. Last month you made a bet that the person to let the secret out to the team owed the other fifty bucks. And you sure as shit were not losing that bet.

The team were gathered at the round table as you made your way up the steps and into the conference room. Emily was sat next to JJ and as you walked in she shot you a smile, before looking back to the pictures JJ was showing her on her phone. You sank into the last seat next to Morgan, opposite Emily, but it wasn’t her that caught your eye this time, it was Reid, staring at you like he was trying to figure something out. Or rather, staring at the top you were wearing. Emily’s top. Shit.

“Hey, isn’t that Emily’s shirt?” Everyone turned to Reid as he said that, pointing at your top. You felt your heart skip as he said it, everyone’s eyes on you, willing them not to notice the embarrassment now seeping in.

“I don’t know what you mean Reid?”

“Yeah. She was wearing it the other day.”

Ok, no big deal, play it cool. There’s plenty of reasons why you would be wearing this shirt. EMILY PRENTISS DON’T YOU DARE START SMIRKING AT ME NOW. I WILL NOT LOSE THIS BET! Oh god why is everyone staring!

“Don’t you know, Dr Reid, that women can shop in the same store. Now you say it, Emily probably does have a similar shirt.” You pretended to inspect it, like you were only just noticing that it was the same as Emily’s. Like you weren’t wearing her FUCKING SHIRT.

Luckily, looking back up it seemed they were convinced, mostly. There was an odd look here and there, like they were beginning to put two and two together, but they were still missing something. The room fell quite as minds seemed to whir for a moment, mulling it over. You cleared your throat, uncomfortable at the amount of attention still being paid to this.

“Don’t we have a case or something. Is that not why we’re here on a Friday night. Seems more important than where I buy my clothes, no?”

The room seemed to lighten then, minds shifting into work mode. Hotch nodded at Penelope to start the briefing. Her eyes flitted between the two of you for a moment, before starting to download you on the case. She was definitely not going to be letting this one go anytime soon. The thought made you chuckle slightly, which you tried to pass off as a cough. Emily shot you a look, eyebrows raised in question. You shook your head slightly in reply. I’ll tell you later.

The briefing ended and the team filed out, readying their things for the flight. You hung back in the room, slowly gathering you files off the table, hoping Emily would do the same. At last, just the two of you and Hotch remained in the room. He shot you both a look before shaking his head, leaving the room.

“What do you think that means?” She was standing beside you now, files clutched in her hands, both of you looking to where Hotch had just left.

“I think it means, ‘I think I know, but I don’t want to know’”

You huffed a laugh in response.

“You almost lost fifty bucks there, that was a close one.”

“And completely your fault. If you hadn’t spilled wine on me we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Pity.” She leaned in close now, her breath wafting across your neck, “You look good in my clothes you know.”

Your breath caught in your chest, eyes following as she walked out the door now, shooting you a wink over her shoulder, leaving you alone in the conference room. The next few days were certainly going to be interesting.

#cmbingo21 #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Girlfriend - One Shot

a/n: I have no fucking self control! I was going to save this for Friday, but it’s fluffy and cute, so here we are. If you haven’t seen Charlie Puth’s mv for Girlfriend, I strongly suggest you watch it. It’s so cute, and so is the song, which inspired this quick little piece. Enjoy!

Words: 2K

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Do you want to come over for dinner Friday night?”

It was a simple question that he had asked, and yet he was the one ready to shit his pants. Harry had been seeing Y/N sort of casually for about two months. They had met through mutual friends. It was cute, actually, he was having a pool party and one of his friends brought her.

“Harry, this is my friend, Y/N.” Greg had told him.

“It’s nice to meet you, thanks for having me.” She smiled. She was so cute, and polite. She excused herself to go change into her swim suit, and put her drinks inside.

“Where have you been hiding her?” Harry asked Greg.

“We work together! She’s super funny, thought I’d bring her along. That’s cool right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Harry peered over to watch her walk inside. “Might have to get to know her myself.”

“Good idea, sort of another reason why I brought her. I thought you two would get along well.”

And they did, maybe a little too well because she stayed at Harry’s house pretty late. She was one of the last people there, Harry gave her a tour of the house, they somehow ended up in his bedroom, and one thing led to another. She didn’t spend the night, which was just fine with him, but he did give her his number in case she ever wanted to come over again.

They started doing more things as a group: going to bars, dancing, movies, and game nights. Most nights ended the same, going back to one of their places and shagging.

“You know…I wouldn’t hate it if you spent the night.” She had said to him one night just as he was pulling his boxers on.

“Oh?”

“I really like fucking in the morning.” She said without missing a beat. Harry smiled big at her.

“Can’t say no to that now can I?”

He settled in next to her, spooned her all night long, and when they woke up she delivered. They had sex in her bed, and then had sex in her shower. They made breakfast together, and then he headed out. Harry was having so much fun with her he completely forgot he was sort of seeing a couple of other girls too. Unanswered texts and calls displayed on his phone…maybe he didn’t want to see them anymore. Maybe he only wanted to see Y/N. Did she feel the same way? Did she have a couple of other guys too? That’s what led him to ask her to a dinner at his house. Sure, she had been over for dinner before, but usually it was a long forgotten pizza as he fucked her on the couch.

“I’d love to come over! Can I bring anything?”

“Just yourself, babe.”

He took a deep breath after they hung up. He wanted to make her a fabulous meal, show her how serious he was about wanting things to move forward. Harry hadn’t had a proper girlfriend in quite some time, but he felt ready to take this next step with Y/N. He only wanted to be with her, he was sure of it.

He picked up a ton of ingredients to make a roasted chicken, and a ton of other sides. He was going to make mashed potatoes, and green beans, and…well…he didn’t let the potatoes boil long enough, so they were lumpy when he mashed them. He added sour cream and butter, but it looked disgusting. His chicken also was still frozen when he put it into the oven, so the skin burned.

“She’s gonna think I’m a fucking moron!” Harry was usually a pretty decent cook, but he was so nervous he couldn’t get any of the recipes right. “Fucking, Christ, get it together Styles.” He runs a hand through his hair and opens his drawer that he kept his takeout menus in. “Hi, yeah, I’d like to place an order for delivery…”

While Harry waits for his food to show up, he swiftly cleans the kitchen. He looked cute. He had a patterned short-sleeve button up on with a pair of shorts and loafers. His door rings, and he grabs his food. He takes everything out of their containers and plates it up to make it look like he made it. He essentially ordered what he wanted to make anyways. He gets everything onto the table and lights a couple of candles. He was happy with his work. His nerves were shot, but he was excited. Although, there was that little bit of fear in the back of his head that she’d just want to keep things casual.

When his door rings, he sprints over to it, and smiles when he sees her there. She looked adorable, as always. She was wearing a pair of jean-capris, and a peasant style shirt so her shoulders were exposed.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” She smiles and holds up a bag. “I know you said I just needed to bring myself, but I brought dessert. I hate going anywhere empty handed.”

“You’re sweet, thanks.” He kisses her cheek, takes the bag, and lets her in.

“Wow, Harry.” She says as she looks at the table. “Fancy.”

“Expecting pizza?” He winks, and kisses her. “Please, sit.” He pulls a chair out for her and she sits down. He sets the dessert down in the kitchen, and then comes back out to sit with her. “You look really nice.”

“It’s just my usual.” She looks down at herself and then at him. She takes the glass of wine he already poured and has a sip. “Mm, my favorite, thanks.”

“Of course.” He takes a sip as well, maybe it would help him calm down.

“This looks really good, Harry. How’d you have the time after work?”

“Got some of it done this morning, it was no big deal.” He scoffs.

She takes her knife and fork, and cuts into her chicken. He watches as she licks her lips after and then dabs her mouth with her napkin.

“It’s delicious! Tastes like the chicken from that place we went to a couple of weeks ago with everyone.”

“Huh, you don’t say?” He takes a bite of mashed potatoes. “I’m glad we could get together tonight.”

“Me too.” She smiles and reaches to give his hand a squeeze. He stops her from taking her hands back to her fork. She furrows her brows at their hands and then looks at him. “Kinda need that to eat, Har.” She chuckles.

“I know, I just, uh, I wanted to say I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too, Harry.” She smiles. “May I have my hand back now? I don’t want this to get cold.”

“Right, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smirks. “You can hold my hand all you want after we eat.”

He smiles and continues eating. They both talk about their days and what they did at work. He loved watching her lips move as she spoke. He loved her toothy smile, and they she’d sometimes bite her bottom lip to suppress a laugh or two.

“I’d clean my plate, but I don’t wanna get too full. I promise it was really good, though.”

“No worries, gotta save room for dessert right? What did you bring?”

“I just snagged some cupcakes from the grocery store.” She shrugs. “Those ones with the lemon frosting you like so much.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Would you…uh…would you…” He was sweating, and so incredibly nervous. He just needed to spit it out. She was looking at him, waiting. “I really like you, and I haven’t been talking to anyone else, and you’re really the only person I want to talk to. I hope you’re not seeing anyone else, but I get it if you are since this has been pretty casual.” He rubs the back of his neck. Her eyebrows were raised, waiting for him to say more. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…I wanna keep seeing you, I wanna see where this goes, and, well, would you want to be my girlfriend?”

Her mouth falls open. She smiles and bites her bottom lip, but still she doesn’t say anything.

“Oh god, you don’t want to do that yet? Is it too soon? I’m-“

“Harry.” She puts her hand on his shoulder. “You’re a wreck.” She giggles. “Calm down, babe. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

“Really?” He says with relief.

“Yes…I was sort of expecting this conversation with the way you asked me over. Usually you’re not so formal over the phone.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I’m not seeing anyone else, either. I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but I’m usually a one guy kind of person, even when it’s just casual.” She licks her lips. “Besides.” She stands up and sits on one of his thighs, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I don’t quite think another guy could satisfy me the way you do.” He wraps his arms around her waist, and hides his face in her chest. She strokes a hand through his hair.

“Can we have the cupcakes now?” He mumbles.

“I’d like that.” She kisses the top of his head and gets off of him. She helps clear the table while he gets them out of the container. They each pop a small cupcake in their mouths. “Mm, I didn’t like lemon much until you showed me these, but I like it a lot now.”

“It’s tasty and refreshing.”

She bursts out laughing and he loves the way it sounds. Her arms move back around his neck as she continues to laugh.

“So, what stereotypical girlfriend things should I do first?” She asks, playfully.

“You could tell me you secretly hate all my decorations and take me shopping. That’s a pretty good one.”

“Or I could ask you to clean out one of your drawers for me way too soon and make you panic thinking I want to move in already.”

Harry presses his forehead to hers as he laughs.

“Let’s compromise on the most important one.”

“Which is what?”

“Leaving tampons in my bathroom.”

“Oh, Harry, I already started doing that.”

“You did?! How’d I miss ‘em?”

“I just put them in the cabinet under your sink…”

“Oh…I, like, never look in there.”

“Exactly.” She taps her temple. “Always thinking.”

His hands grip on her hips as he smiles.

“Alright, alright, what about other toiletries? Leave all your shit all over my bathroom, I don’t care. And then I’ll do the same to your place.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She pulls him close to kiss him, and he swings her around in his arms, hoisting her up to sit on top of the counter.

“As long as the sex doesn’t stop being so hot, I don’t really care how we do things.” He says against her lips.

“Oh, so that’s why you wanna lock me down, for the hot sex?”

“You caught me.”

His tongue swipes along her bottom lip and she opens up for him, letting him lick into her mouth. She tugs at his shirt as his hands slide up her thighs. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him closer, but it still wasn’t close enough.

“Harry.” She nips at his bottom lip. “Take me upstairs.”

“So demanding.” He smirks as his hands grip her ass to lift her.

“And yet, you have no problem listening.”

“That’s what good boyfriends do, right?”

“Mhm.” She kisses him as he brings her up the stairs to his bedroom.

“What do I get for being so good?” He kisses on her neck as he sets her down, her pulling him onto the bed with her.

“Anything you want.” She whispers in his ear. “I feel so bad that you were nervous earlier.” She pouts at him.

“You make me really nervous.” He kisses on her neck. “Butterflies in my stomach and everything.”

“Aww, well, no reason to be nervous now.” She cups his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “I’m all yours.”

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