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#its sad to think he will never see my new house
ladysqueakinpip · 3 months
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the last month for me has been the biggest hot mess of -have an existential crisis- -overwork yourself- -have no hope- -find therapist- -feel hopeful- -try to move- -feel hopeful- -lose house- -faith crisis- -quits job- -feels hopeful- -dog has cancer- -depression- -signs new lease- -feels hopeful- -moving stress- -dog dies-
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clownboy-yeehonk · 4 months
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#so my grandma died#its ok bc shes been sorta fading for a while we knew it was coming sooner rather than later#the aide said she was talking to my grandpa last night and hes been dead since 2014#and its nice to think that he came to come pick her up#funerals are always weird bc were not a very dramtically emotional family so its a lot of talking about the details#what hymns she wanted where the repasse should be what food theyll be serving what were all wearing#and its funny bc my grandma was a penultimately particular woman who wrote down precisely what she wanted done#down to the shoes she wants to be buried in as if anyone is going to see her feet#but GOD forbid she walks through the pearly gates BAREFOOT she could never#she died in the middle of the night and my dad joked that she probably did that so it wouldnt be a big scene in the middle of the day#when they came to take her body from the house#and on one hand like dad that is your MOTHER#but also objectively hes probs not wrong she would have hated a big scene in the middle of the day with neighbors watching#and i gotta request time off work and im asking my managers how i submit the request and i dont wanna say SORRY bc like its my dead grandma#but also ya i was supposed to be training a new girl this week at work 🙃#like obviously were all really sad but theres so much to get done that you end up discussing all the details#shes def in a better place like i do believe shes with my grandpa again and she went peacefully and thats very much a blessing#but i have no idea what im gonna wear to this thing#and that feels like a dumb thing to fixate on! but alas#here we are
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seresinhangmanjake · 19 days
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Do You Love?
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader
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Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.
Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.
Words: 1400
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.
When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 
It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 
From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.
Reader POV
He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.
Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?
But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 
But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?
Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.
--
Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 
Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.
“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”
His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.
Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”
Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 
“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 
You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 
Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 
Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 
Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.
“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 
“In my nightmares.”
His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 
You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”
“Why?”
“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”
Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.
“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”
Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 
“I love you,” he tells you.
Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”
---
tag: @avidreader73
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jeonfics · 8 months
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birthday boy | jjk
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pairing: husband!jk x wife!reader
genre: married couple au
warnings: lots of touching, fluff, mentions of sex, clingy jk, whiny jk, kisses, he says baby a lot, just overall soft moments
word count: 2.6k
a/n: hiiiii this is my very first fic/drabble i’ve ever written and posted. my writing skills aren’t the best but i hope you enjoy 🥹 i hope to make more stories in the future. this is also all fiction and in no means am i trying to relate this to the members irl🫶🏽
“okay he should be coming home any minute now so you guys need to hide,” you say to all of your in laws. you check jungkook’s destination on your phone and he’s 1 minute away from the house.
his parents, older brother’s: jin, yoongi, hoseok, and namjoon, and their spouses and kids go to your back patio that you all decorated for the party. jimin and taehyung wanted to pull a prank on jungkook first but there was no time for that since jungkook was coming any second now.
ever since you and jungkook had moved from Busan a year ago, he hadn’t seen his family that entire time. you on the other hand, have some family in the states. you guys also couldn’t go to Busan because of work. jungkook yearned to see his family although he called and facetimed them almost everyday.
you hear the sound of jungkook’s car outside parking in the garage. soon after, his keys are opening the front door.
“baby i’m home!” jungkook says out loud as you get up from the couch in the living room hurrying to him at the front door.
“hi! how was work?” you say cheerfully as he takes off his shoes and you take his bag.
“eh. the same. you weren’t at the porch today?” he pouts, a look of sadness and confusion written all over his face because you always wait for him at the porch when he comes back home from work.
“sorry i was doing something,” you say hoping he doesn’t think too much about it. he only nods but when he finishes taking off his shoes he begins to notice the light makeup on your face and the outfit you’re wearing. its just a new floral patterned dress you recently got. you paired it with a necklace and matching earrings. it’s nothing special but definitely something you wouldn’t normally wear at home. you also styled your hair because you wanted to look presentable for the party tonight. you also didn’t have work today and did tell jungkook you’d be at home all day, so he knows you didn’t go out. he ogles at you and grabs you by the waist. you squirm at the sudden movement.
“baby, who told you to look so beautiful?” he asks you while looking at your lips leaning in for a kiss. you know that look on his face but you stop him with your hands on his chest. he’s taken aback by your reaction because it’s also something you normally wouldn’t do- refraining from a kiss.
you see the confusion on his face again, this time he furrows his brows.
“uhm i just wanted to dress up. i was getting bored.”
“you look gorgeous baby. don’t worry you won’t be bored for long,” he winks and leans in for another kiss. you stop him again. not because you don’t want to kiss, but because his family is definitely watching you guys from the back patio near the living room. the doors are made of glass and although they are hiding in the dark, you know they are definitely peeking at you two. you get shy and flustered by the thought of his parents seeing you two like this so you quickly remove his arms from your waist and head towards the kitchen.
“baby what happened? are you mad at me?” he says pouting. it hurts you that he may be thinking if he did anything wrong. he could never do anything wrong. jungkook has always showered you with nothing but love for the past year of your marriage and last 6 years of your relationship.
“no of course not. you just need to wash up first.” you say as a lame excuse for him to not touch you. you know if jungkook starts touching and kissing you things get heated real quick. and you certainly cannot let that happen now.
“but you always give me kisses everyday after work. sometimes a bit more” he winks. “and my birthday’s in two hours,” he whines, his doe eyes looking like a puppy, lips in a pout and frown. “i had such a long day today all i could think about was the bomb ass birthday se-“
“jungkook!” you quickly cut him off. your cheeks gone full red because of the embarrassment. you’re most definitely sure everyone heard that. you panic internally because the thought of his parents hearing that leaves you extremely embarrassed. not to mention, the kids are outside too, and you definitely do not want them wondering what sex is. you and jungkook have this thing where you’re not clingy or touchy around each other’s families. not because you’re scared they’d judge you or something but because you both like doing it in private, when it’s just the two of you. pda isn’t really your guy’s thing.
“aw come on baby. why are you getting so shy for” he laughs. “it’s just me and you here. please just tell me what i did wrong. is it cuz i left this morning while you were still asleep. i was running late and i didn’t wanna wake you because you had cramps last night and it’s the beginning of the month so your period might be coming and-“
“no no jungkook you didn’t do anything wrong. just please hurry and go wash up. then we’ll eat dinner,” you cut him off as you push him towards the stairs. you know the more words that comes out of his mouth, the more embarrassing it’ll be for the both of you. you’ll just let him take a shower before everyone surprises him.
“let’s take a shower together. you know, i had a really reallyyy loooong day and you can help me relieve some tension baby. tomorrow is my birthday after all.” he repeats, using the birthday card to try and convince you while you’re still pushing him towards the stairs. your silence says it all so he quickly retreats, turns around and grabs you by the waist. he carries you up and then places you on the kitchen counter. he stands between your legs, hands brushing your thigh as they slowly slide up under your dress.
“oh my gosh jungkook not now! put me down!” you whisper loudly. he’s confused why you’re whispering so he stops playing with your thighs. you push him away and quickly jump off the counter. you hurry to the living room but he’s faster. he grabs your wrists and pulls you towards him. he holds you with one hand on your waist while the other on the side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. you turn your head to the side and you can clearly spot some of his brothers and their wives hiding behind the chairs and bushes. you only look for a few seconds but you still see them covering their kid’s eyes. “great” you think. you then turn back to jungkook and push his arms away from you. he’s always clingy but of course not when family are around. he doesn’t know that yet.
“baby i’m sorry but you know i can’t hold back when you look this hot. i was gonna wait for tonight but seeing you all dressed up for me,” he licks his lips leaning towards your face, “i was hoping for us to start now,” he says in his sultry voice that almost makes you risk it all.
luckily you’re saved from the embarrassment when taehyung slides the glass door to your back patio and enters the living room. “hate to break it to you but you can’t be so horny tonight baby.” jimin follows and says while laughing, “yeah baby, don’t mean to ruin the fun but you’ve got company.” they both mock jungkook. you laugh out loud, only now realizing how many times jungkook has called you baby ever since he stepped foot in the house.
jungkook releases his hands from you, his eyes go wide as he’s surprised by who’s in front of him. he then runs to hug his brothers. they all jump while hugging. you watch them with the biggest smile on your face. moments later, jungkook stretches out one of his arm for you to join, which you gladly do. the four of you are all circled in a tight hug, jumping up and down in the little circle. reunited after one long year, this is definitely a moment to take in.
“what’re you guys doing here? no one told me you were coming?” jungkook asks as you all slowly release each other from the hug.
“happy early birthday!” jimin says while ruffling jungkook’s hair.
“it was all y/n’s idea. we just wanted to surprise you little bro,” taehyung said as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.
“surprise!” you say with a big smile on your face looking at jungkook.
jungkook looks at you and quickly lifts you up, spinning you around. “thank you thank you thank you!!” he gives you a big fat kiss on the lips as he puts you back down. you laugh after. finally he gets to kiss you.
“anything for you, you big baby,” you say pinching his cheeks. he gets slightly embarrassed of the word now because he gets remembered of everything he said and did ever since he came home.
he turns to his brothers pointing his fingers at them. “you guys heard nothing.”
your cheeks turn pink from embarrassment. his brothers look at you while laughing. you cover your face with your hands hiding from your embarrassed face. they’re not the only one who heard everything, you three think.
“aw come on stop laughing. it was nothing funny,” jungkook says to the guys as he wraps his arms around your waist.
“well we’re not the only ones who found it funny” jimin winks at jungkook while taehyung bites his fist in his teeth holding himself from excessively laughing.
“w-what do you mean?” jungkook looks at you three confusedly. “who else heard?”
“close your eyes okay?” you say softly to him and he looks at you in confusion but complies nonetheless. you take his hand and slowly guide him to your back patio. jimin slides the door open while taehyung turns on the fairy lights you set up earlier today. it brightens up the entire patio space. jungkook can sense the change in lighting and squints his eyes.
“no peeking!” you exclaim and cover his eyes with your right hand. the other hand still holding onto jungkook so he doesn’t fall or get hurt. some of your nieces and nephews giggle. everyone is already out of their hiding spots and waiting to surprise jungkook.
“baby what did i just hear?” jungkook asks.
“you’ll see on the count of three okay?”
you look around and make sure everything is in place. all of the tablewear, flowers, candles and jungkook’s favorite foods displayed neatly on the long table. in the back near the pool are his cake and favorite desserts on the dessert table, and his gifts set on a different table. you even bought a cute bunny piñata because the kids (and jungkook) would definitely love it. your theme for today was just a nice, comfy, and chill outdoor party and with the help of your in-laws you were able to achieve that. it was everything you pictured~something you knew jungkook would love.
you nod at everyone so they were ready. you release your hands from jungkook’s face.
“okay 3…2…1…”
“SURPRISE!!!” you and everyone yell to jungkook when he opens his eyes. he opens his mouth wide in shock and immediately runs to hug his parents.
“i missed you guys sooo much.”
“we know sweetie. we did too.” his mom says and kisses his cheek.
“happy birthday son. we’re so proud of you.” his dad says shortly after.
you see jungkook’s eyes glistening and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears. you knew how much he missed his family and seeing them after so long would definitely make him feel emotional. he hugs his brothers and their spouses after, and then all of his nieces and nephews.
“i can’t believe you guys are all here. this doesn’t feel real. thank you guys seriously. this is the best birthday gift i could’ve asked for.”
you’re all touched by jungkook’s words. he has worked hard non stop all his life but seeing him now following his dream and working on things he is so passionate about is even more admiring. leaving everything behind back home was an extremely difficult decision for him. when he got the job offer in New York for one of the biggest gaming companies in the world, he was stoked, but knowing that he’d have to leave his family, his home, behind him was definitely not an exciting feeling. he was extremely grateful though to have you by his side but he did feel bad that you had to leave everything behind too, even though you constantly reminded him that wherever he is, you are there too. jungkook waited for the day he’d see his family again, so he looks at everyone taking in this joyous feeling.
“don’t thank us honey, your beautiful wife planned all of this. you are truly lucky to have y/n by your side.” you gush at his mom’s words and let out a soft “thank you” to her going over to give her a hug.
jungkook comes over to you and smiles so endearingly you feel like crying because how can your husband look so precious. he pulls you in a tight hug and whispers “i’m so lucky.”
the rest of the night is spent beautifully with everyone eating, singing, dancing, laughing, and partying. jungkook is having so much fun with his family and you look at him fondly with the biggest smile plastered on your face. how did you get so lucky to have such an amazing and caring husband, along with a beautiful family who adores you just as much as you do them.
when you go back inside to the kitchen to grab more drinks, you feel a light smack to your butt. you gasp turning around and finding your husband with a smirk on his face that you know too well. he pulls you to the corner where no one can see you guys through the glass doors.
jungkook lifts you up and hugs you so tight you start giggling. “thank you so much baby. i really don’t know what i did to deserve you. but just know i will continue to spend everyday of my life loving you and caring for you. you seriously don’t know how much you mean to me y/n.”
“i do jungkook, i do know and you mean the world to me and more,” you say as he settles you back down. you cup his face and pull him in a chaste kiss that’s sweet and tender. the one where all sounds are blocked and it’s just the two of you. he deepens the kiss and pulls you in closer, one hand on your waist, the other on your nape. you pull back not too long and stare at him, fingers brushing his soft, fluffy hair that’s parted in the middle. “i love you so much my love. happy birthday.”
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luvrxbunny · 8 months
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late night talking
Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 
Prompt: Phone Sex
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mutual masturbation  (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 1.5k
A/N: GUYS IM SORRY I'VE BEEN LATE I SWEAR IM TRYING (not proofread *sobbing*)
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It’s around 1 AM when Eddie stumbles in, he’s high and just a teensy bit drunk. He has a stupid smile on his face because he’s expecting to see you nice and cozy in his bed. He walks into his room and is sobered by your absence, he speed walks quietly down the hall, making a beeline for the phone hanging off the wall. He’s thinking to himself as he puts your number in, trying to figure out why you aren’t here.
Was she taken? I bet it was Harrington, that motherfucker always wanted her. Dude can’t handle the fact she chose me.
Eddie has a prideful smile on his face as your phone rings. You pick up almost immediately. “Eddie? Are you okay?” His whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice, but… if you’re okay- seeming very un-stolen by Steve Harrington, then why weren’t you here? Sadness creeps into his chest. “Where are you?” He asks, voice completely deflated. He hears some shuffling before you answer him.
“I’m at my house, Eddie. Are you okay?” You ask him again with more force this time and he starts nodding before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah. I’m okay… Why aren’t you here?” He sounds like he could cry- and he totally could. He gets more emotional when he drinks, and pairing that with the sensitivity he gets when he’s high you’re left with a crossfaded bundle of need and intimacy. 
You’d told Eddie that you wouldn’t be sleeping over at his place today, you guys’ midterms were starting tomorrow and you needed a good night’s sleep to not stress over them while testing. It’s not that you don’t sleep well with Eddie, it’s just that you guys can’t help but do a little more than sleep whenever you’re together. 
“Baby…” You start slowly, using that tone that Eddie loves. You’re talking to him like you’re breaking the news to a child that Santa isn’t real, full of pity, sadness, and love. It makes him all tingly inside. “I told you that I wouldn’t be there tonight.” He gasps softly into the receiver as the memory pops back into his head. “Remember..? I told you we have testing tomorrow and we both need to sleep. What are you even doing up this late? Did you just get home?!”
His spine straightens as your voice picks up, realizing that yes, he did just get home. Although he never confirms or denies, his silence is your answer. He hears you sigh into the phone and he slumps forward, disappointed in himself for not listening to you but then he realizes something. “Well, what are you doing up? You answered pretty fast, darling.” It’s your turn to go silent now. 
As previously mentioned, you and Eddie both have impressively high libidos, so every night you guys would be doing something, anything to get the other off. You stayed away from Eddie’s tonight so you could get some sleep instead of doing that. Unfortunately, it’s seemed to make its way into your routine so you’ve been fighting the urge for hours, unable to sleep a wink because of the incessant, hot, buzzing between your legs. Your body was begging for him, you’d tried to get yourself off for about 5 minutes before giving up. It just wasn’t as intense as when it’s Eddie’s hands on you, your body just wouldn't respond to you the same way. So you’ve been staring at your ceiling, praying for sleep to take you, and then Eddie called.
“Um…” He smiles, holding back a laugh as you try and figure out your answer. “I just miss you.” The message is sweet and heart-warming but you dropped your voice to that whisper you get when you need him. When he’s just practicing some chords and you don’t know how to ask him to take care of you. When you work your way over and tell him you ‘need his help’... you’re using that voice and he’s already getting hard. 
“Yeah? You miss me, baby?” His head looks both ways down the hallway as his hand comes to the front of his jeans, massaging his rapidly growing cock. “What do you mean? What do you miss, honey?” You’re squirming in bed, in Eddie’s t-shirt, and very ready for where this conversation is headed. Your hand has already made its way between your legs, rubbing yourself gently through your underwear as Eddie questions you. 
“I miss everything about you, Eddie.” You stick your hand into your panties, gathering some wetness to spread over your clit before pulling your hand out and rubbing yourself over your underwear. Eddie’s on the same wavelength as you, his hand now fully inside his boxers, teasing his leaking tip. He can hear your breathing quiver and his eyes roll back into his head. The fact that even though you’re both so far apart, you’re perfectly in sync. “Tell me about it, baby.” 
You whimper into his ear. “Eddie… Are you touching yourself?” His knees almost give out and he has to turn around so he can lean against the wall. His hand wraps around his cock and pulls up slowly as his eyes close, picturing you. “Yes.” You’re so silent that he thinks he answered wrong somehow and his hand stops. He’s waiting, listening- maybe you fell asleep. Then he hears it, the subtle whine in your breath and a slick noise behind the static of the phone. 
His hand moves again, stiffly in order to keep the phone perfectly placed on his ear to hear your noises. “Fuck, are- Are you touching yourself, love?” You moan his name into the receiver and slide your hand back into your pants, stuffing two fingers into your soaking pussy and whining to Eddie about how good it feels. You lay back onto your pillows, pulling the phone with you, and imagine that Eddie’s above you, that it’s his fingers stretching you out and pressing into your G-Spot. As if he can read your mind, Eddie prompts you. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby. You’re real quiet over there, give me something to work with, love” You giggle lightly at his request and he groans in your ear, his hand squeezing around his cock as it pulses at the sound. “What? The thought of me isn’t enough?” He doubles his pace and shakes his head at no one. “Not when I’ve had the real thing f- for so long.” His words come out as a raspy whine, almost a sob as he continues. “How could you take her away from me?” You’re aroused yet confused at his words, you listen to him moan a bit before questioning him. “What- Eddie, who-” He cuts you off with a hushed sob. “Your pussy- need her so bad.” Your teeth tear into your bottom lip as moans try to fight their way out of your mouth. 
Eddie’s moaning about all the things he’s going to do to you and you can see them all perfectly, you can hear the truth in his voice, in everything he says. He’s whispering into the phone, making the whole ordeal even hotter. You had never stopped to actually think about why though, you pictured him in his bed, hand down his pants and legs spread for you. You’ve caught him like that before and the image plagues you constantly- but Eddie doesn’t have a phone in his room… 
Your pussy clenches onto your fingers as the image in your head shifts. Your head is now depicting Eddie as he truly is, back against the wall, phone in one hand and his other is shoved down his pants, moving wildly under the denim. You can’t hold in the moan that arises at the realization. “Eddie- Fuck, baby are you in your hallway?” He groans out a whimper into the phone and his cock begins to throb, his brain clouding over with thoughts of you, everything you guys have done, everything he wants to do, and everything you’d let him do. “Needed you.” That’s all he can get out before he’s giving you his little hushed sounds. You can feel yourself winding up, and the fire in your stomach begins to spread throughout your body. You’re gushing around your fingers as you listen to Eddie. You can tell he’s getting close, right on the edge and you want nothing more than to push him over.
“M’ gonna cum, Eddie. I-” You’re cut off by your whines as your hand leaves the receiver, using it to rub your clit, desperately working yourself closer to the edge. “Tried earlier but- I don’t feel like y-yo-” Your eyes roll back, your thighs shake and you try your best to hold all your sounds in but little whimpers make their way through the phone as your orgasm racks through you. You hear Eddie moan- probably louder than he should and a loud commotion. Your eyes are shut as you come down and you can hear Eddie moaning- then cursing- in the distance. 
You pry your eyes open and grab the phone again. “Eds?” He grunts out a few more curses and some chuckles before answering. “H-hey, sweetheart. I’m okay I-” He laughs at himself again, bringing a smile to your face with the sound. “I- My knees gave out. I fell” He sounds adorably embarrassed as you laugh at him He giggles along timidly and you assure him that it’s cute until you both fall asleep. 
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
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love-bitesx · 1 year
Note
im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!
*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!
i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe
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i’d love to expand! ~
- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.
- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.
- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.
- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.
- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.
- “how are you, loverboy?”
- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”
- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”
- “did you hit your head, bro?”
- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.
- “shit.”
- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”
- “shit.”
- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him
- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.
- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away
- he hated that he liked loving you
- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.
- “hey, loverboy”
- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face
- “loverboy?”
- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?
- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”
- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck
- “i-i guess so”
- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface
- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”
- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both
- he was obsessed with you
- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it
- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him
- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips
- even in public, almost especially in public
- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud
- THE NICKNAMES.
- THE. NICKNAMES.
- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names
- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway
- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you
- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…
- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)
- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.
- “hey, love?”
- you hum in response
- “i wanna give you something.”
- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him
- “what are you—”
- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger
- “here.”
- “hobie, are you—”
- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”
- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger
- “it’s just a promise.”
- “a promise?”
- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”
- “oh, hobie.”
- you cry a tiny bit
- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead
- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.
- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”
- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”
i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe
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maeby-cursed · 7 months
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KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…
𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?
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a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)
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✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.
✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader
✧ wc: 2k
✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.
✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??
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An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.
It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.
Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.
It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.
It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.
It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.
When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.
But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.
"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.
The window has been broken since September.
You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.
"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.
You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.
You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.
You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed. 
It’s not fair, not one bit.
Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on. 
When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower. 
But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.
"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.
You get up.
9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.
"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.
He doesn’t even bother to look up.
"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"
It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.
"I'm going to a work friend's house."
"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"
Christ.
"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."
"Hmm, how nice."
A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.
"Satoru."
"What's up, baby?"
"I'm moving."
At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.
"You're moving out? Why?"
Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.
"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.
"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"
"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."
That chills him to the bone.
"Of course I love you."
"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"
You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded. 
The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.
"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"
And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.
"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."
The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.
"You think I don't love you?"
It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.
You inhale deeply.
"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."
Satoru stands up at that.
He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case. 
He takes a step in your direction and whispers:
"Then what should I do now?"
Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.
"What?" you mutter. 
"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."
There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.
Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.
"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."
He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.
"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."
It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.
You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person. 
You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.
And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.
"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.
Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.
"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."
"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."
His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.
Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.
Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.
He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.
This is where it ends.
"Satoru..." you whisper.
"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."
A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.
Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?
"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.
"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.
You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.
"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."
"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."
You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.
"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"
He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose. 
No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.
His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.
This is his second time.
He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.
"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."
That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again. 
From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.
"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.
He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave. 
And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.
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© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.
(reblogs are appreciated !!)
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roosterforme · 9 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 9 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: What are you supposed to do when you don't know how to talk to your husband? How is he supposed to love you and your body when you can't even figure out how to love yourself anymore? You watch Bradley leave for deployment. 
Warnings: Angst, sex, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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When you woke up on the bathroom floor the morning after your promotion banquet, and remembered what happened, you started crying. Your dress whites had been so perfect and crisply pressed. The excitement for your new piece of hardwear had fueled you along. You had forgotten about how much you hated your body right now, at least for a few hours. 
Everything ached as you stood up and tried to stretch out all of the kinks you had from sleeping on the bath mat. Bradley was leaving tomorrow. He would be gone for eight weeks. And you didn't even want to leave this bathroom and see him right now. 
But when you opened the door, curious about what time it was and ready to pack your back and go home, you nearly tripped over your husband. He was sleeping on the floor outside the bathroom, curled up with a pillow and a sheet. You braced yourself on the doorway so you didn't fall. 
"Baby Girl," he croaked, his voice still hoarse.
Your eyes were stinging, and you felt miserable knowing he had slept on the floor, too. But he had ruined your night, and you didn't even want to have to listen to him apologize to you. 
"I want to go home," you informed him with a steady voice that betrayed how terrible you felt. 
"Can we talk about this?" he asked, getting to his feet and looking as miserable as you felt. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."
You just closed your eyes and shook your head. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could take a bath and change and start to feel better. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
He ran his hand over his face and swallowed hard, and you slipped past him to get your stuff together. 
You were back home by nine o'clock. Part of you wanted Bradley to vanish and leave you alone. The rest of you was panicking inside, because by this time tomorrow, he would be gone. And then what would you do? It might be weeks before he could call you. But even though you knew you needed to straighten things out right now, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. 
So you sank down into a bubble bath while he muttered something about taking Tramp for a walk. Good. He was gone now. The house was quiet. And you were left alone to think about how out of control your emotions were. But you decided were allowed to be frustrated that your night got ruined, and you were allowed to be annoyed with Bradley. However, today was also your last chance to see him for two months. And you were ovulating. 
So you shaved your legs and got out of the bath. Then you tried to do your normal routine of drying off and applying lotion, but you could hear Bradley messing around in the bedroom. When you wrapped your towel around yourself and poked your head in, he looked up from his duffle bag. "Hi," he said softly. He had his underwear and some clothing in stacks on the dresser. He was packing to leave. 
You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your fingernails digging into your palms. Never had you ever, not even once, felt this awkward around him. It was disorienting and unsettling. You couldn't have imagined this if you tried. His brown eyes were sad and apologetic, but he seemed to be holding back what he wanted to say. And you were sure your expression was similar. 
You had no idea how to make any of this better. So you blurted out the first thing on your tongue. "You're right. We shouldn't be wasting time. And maybe there's something physically wrong with one of us, but maybe there's not. So I think we should have sex today. While I'm ovulating."
But Bradley didn't budge. He blinked at you and licked his lips. "I'm sorry I upset you. And I really don't know if having sex right now is the best idea, you know?"
It's not like you even wanted to. But you felt like you should. So you let your towel drop to the floor at your feet, because you knew it was impossible for Bradley to feel nothing when you were naked for him. 
His lips parted, his pupils went wide, and his breathing was ragged. "You really want to?"
"Yes," you said softly, lying to your husband even as he took a step closer to you. When his lips met yours, you turned your head so that his mustache skimmed along your neck instead. He kissed down to your shoulder, and it felt good. It always felt good. But you had to force yourself to lay out on the bed as he quickly undressed. 
When Bradley settled on top of you, he stroked his fingers along your slit and then met your eyes. You knew you weren't wet. You bit your lip and had to hold back your tears. 
"We don't have to-" 
"Yes," you said, cutting him off. "We do."
Once again, he looked like you'd physically hit him. He just nodded and brought his fingers up to his lips, coating them with his saliva and returning them to your core. You let your head tip back against the pillow and tried to think about your honeymoon or the way Bradley once gave you a hat trick. You tried to imagine being back in La Jolla. Anything sexy. But all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to see a positive pregnancy test. 
You hiccuped softly, squeezing your eyes shut as Bradley lined himself up with your opening and pushed himself inside you. He just needed to cum. The sooner the better. 
"You okay?" he asked, pushing himself deeper. 
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. "Yeah."
And so he started to thrust as he kissed softly along your collar bones, but after a few minutes, you could tell he wasn't even as hard as he usually was. Tears stung your eyes. You couldn't do anything right. You couldn't get pregnant. And you couldn't keep your husband hard. You couldn't even seem to go five minutes without wanting to disappear into thin air. 
When Bradley met your eyes, he muttered, "Sorry." 
"It's probably my fault," you whispered, but he pressed his lips to yours and shook his head. 
"It's not, Sweetheart." But he had to bury his face against your neck and stroke himself with his right hand until he was hard enough to fuck you while you laid there beyond mortified. And the sound of his soft grunts as he came inside you was such a relief when you finally heard them, you sank back with your forearm over your eyes. 
Bradley didn't collapse in bed with you. He didn't snuggle up with you in his arms. You felt the bed dip as he climbed out and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
-------------------------
It was a long time before Bradley felt like he could walk back out into the bedroom and face you. What was happening here? He had fucked up last night. He knew that. He burst your bubble, tainted the delight you felt when you were being promoted. And he hated that he did that. He was proud of you, and he never wanted to disappoint you. But he'd just disappointed you again today. 
You were gone when he opened the door, and he felt relieved. Embarrassment washed over him again. He wasn't hard for you. He was always hard for you. Even at the most inopportune times, he was ready to go just thinking about you. He didn't even need to touch the porn they gave him when he jerked off to collect a sperm sample for testing. He just pulled up one of the videos you and he made on his phone and went to town. Two minutes of looking at your body and listening to your voice and he was filling up that little cup. 
"Fuck," he grunted, returning to his duffle bag instead of looking for you. Because he didn't even know what to say right now. Tears were collecting in his eyes as he packed his bag. His stomach was growling for lunch, but he didn't think he deserved to eat anything. 
As he put the finishing touches on his uniforms and flight suits, he finally tossed his bag aside. He wasn't even going to be here tomorrow. He needed to fix all of this right now. He hadn't told you he loved you all day, and you hadn't said it to him. Maybe starting there would be a good jumping off place to try to fix things. 
"Baby Girl?" he called out as he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. And he was treated to the sight of your beautiful body, gorgeous face and elegant hands. But you were holding the piece of mail he'd been trying in vain to hide all over the house. And when you met his eyes, you looked angry. 
"I can explain," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. But that just seemed to make you more upset.
"What the fuck, Bradley?" you asked, the paperwork shaking in your hand. "Were you going to tell me about this? Or just try to avoid all of it?"
"I-" he started before freezing up. Your face was righteous with anger in a way he'd never witnessed before, and he wished he could go back to yesterday and do everything right. 
Then your face melted into sadness. "You weren't going to say anything. Were you?" When he didn't respond, you screamed, "Were you?"
He watched you ball up the papers in your hands before you threw them at his chest with as much force as you could manage. He caught the paper ball, heart pounding and skin on fire. And then you rounded on him. "I can't believe you got your sperm tested without saying anything to me about it!"
He sucked in a deep breath. "I was just trying to help," he managed as angry tears flowed down your cheeks. When he took a step closer, you pressed your palms to his chest and pushed him back. 
"You didn't fucking help anything! It's all my fault that I can't get pregnant!"
"You don't know that," he said as you shoved him harder. "We don't know that."
You reached out and smacked the balled up paper out of his hand and shouted, "Yes! I do! It's actually my fault. It's a fact. I saw it right there on that paper! Your sperm is perfect. So my body must be fucked up!"
"Baby Girl," he gasped in agony. "Don't. Please." To him, you were perfect. And having a child really wasn't worth seeing you like this. Seeing how you'd been sinking in on yourself over the past few months. But maybe right now you weren't wrong. He didn't even know anymore. 
"And you were just hiding the results from me?" you asked, your voice still shaking with rage. "Blaming me quietly?"
"I'm not blaming you for anything!" he said, louder than he anticipated. His voice boomed through the kitchen, and you looked up at him like you didn't even know who he was. Even Tramp had run for cover by this point. 
"That's okay," you whispered, your eyes unwavering even though they were filled with tears. "I'm blaming myself enough for both of us."
He looked at the floor. There was nothing he could do to fix any of this now. And you were literally the last person he wanted to disappoint. As he raked his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm going away tomorrow."
He heard you sob as you kicked the sperm test results across the room and stormed down the hallway. 
You were in bed the rest of the afternoon, and Bradley wasn't sure if you were asleep or not. So he avoided the room altogether as he wallowed in this pain that he brought on himself. And on you.
-------------------------
You cried in bed for so long all afternoon, you must have fallen asleep at some point. Bradley's sperm was perfect. It was of higher quality than 95% of men in their mid-thirties. It was ideal for impregnation. The most desirable quality you could imagine. 
And you kept imagining it. He'd come inside you hundreds of times. Thousands of times. Countless times. Even since November, he'd put his Grade A sperm inside you more times than you could possibly keep track of.
So, this was your fault. And now you knew it. You tried for hours to think about work or your friends or even the fact that you should have been able to go to brunch this morning to gush about your promotion banquet. But everything was turning to shit now. It was probably time to think about alternate options. Or consider just giving up completely. 
But why should Bradley have to give up his dream of being a dad just because you weren't able to give him what he wanted? You couldn't be that selfish. As sleep overtook you, disturbing and hurtful ideas filled your mind. You were vaguely aware of Bradley in the room as the afternoon light got dimmer. You could hear him put something in your nightstand. You heard the zipper on his duffle. But you couldn't open your eyes through the haze of pain and exhaustion. 
When you jerked awake in your pitch black bedroom, you heard Bradley's voice next to you. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?" 
You reached for your phone. It was after eleven o'clock. He'd plugged it in for you. He must have gotten himself dinner and taken Tramp out and finished packing for his deployment. 
And then your heart sank as you reached for him. Bradley laced his fingers with yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how good it felt to simply hold his hand. 
"I don't know," you whispered, because you weren't really sure. Bradley brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers. You sighed against the sensation of his mustache on your body. You wanted to keep this feeling alive. This little glimmer of hope. But you muttered, "It's late. Go to sleep," as you withdrew your hand and rolled onto your side.
He was silent for so long, you weren't sure if he was still awake. Finally he said, "I hate leaving you more than I hate anything else. But we'll figure this out. I love you."
But instead of responding, you let him doze. When you both woke up at five to the sound of his alarm blaring, there were several feet of space between your body and his in the king sized bed. You felt like absolute shit. It was hard to breathe as you watched Bradley climb out of bed and head for the bathroom. You knew everything he was going to do: shower, shave around his mustache, apply deodorant. But you didn't want to see it. You went into the kitchen where you had all of the ingredients to make him heart shaped pancakes and strawberries. But you didn't want to make them. 
Instead you made some French press coffee and cried softly. You took a few sips and felt like you were going to throw up. You tried to eat a granola bar, but you gagged. You had forty one minutes until the Admirals would start calling everyone aboard the aircraft carrier. Less than an hour until your husband would be away for two months. But even when he cautiously walked into the kitchen in his uniform with his duffle bag, you still couldn't quite formulate what you wanted to say to him.
Because maybe he was right. Maybe you and he needed to spend some time apart. You hated yourself and your body, so how did you expect him to love you right now? And you resented him for the decisions he was making and the things he was saying to you. It felt like he didn't understand how it feels to be you. And then you laughed darkly, because of course he didn't. And you were doing a shitty job of describing it to him. A horrible job of communicating with him in general.
"Let's go," you said, heading for the front door in the old lounge pants and shirt you'd slept in. You felt disgusting, so you might as well just look disgusting, too. 
But he headed you off, keeping his hand on the doorknob so you couldn't turn it. "I can't go until I know you're listening to what I have to say."
"What?" you snapped, because that was just a lie. He'd be leaving shortly even if you refused to listen or drive him there. That was just a fact. 
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I didn't mean to hide the test results from you."
"But you did," you whispered harshly. "On both accounts."
"I know," he said solemnly, reaching for you before dropping his hand to his side. "And I'm sick over it. But this doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you or that I'm perfect. And we can keep trying as soon as I get home, okay?"
"If I even feel like it," you sobbed, pushing his hand out of the way and wrenching the door open. "If you even want to. If you can even stay hard for me." 
"Sweetheart!" he called out, running after you as you got into the driver's seat of your car. You'd drop him off in this one instead of the Bronco, just because it would irritate him. 
You were turning the key and shifting into reverse before he even had his door closed. You wanted him gone. Now. You needed the silence of the house without him in it. Keeping your tears at bay was impossible, but at least the drive was quiet. Bradley had his hand over his eyes, and his head was tipped back. You saw the way his Adam's apple worked against his neck as he swallowed hard, but you didn't say anything to ease his mind. If you had to feel bad, then so did he. 
You made it to the docks in just a few minutes, and you were out of the car right away. You saw Bob and Nat on the dock, waving and waiting for the two of you, but you just couldn't go over there. You didn't want to see them or have to explain why the two of you were miserable. 
As you turned to face your husband, you were shaking with tears, and so was he. There was just a foot of space between you, but you hesitated. And it was clear to him that you didn't know what to do. So he just stood there and wiped at his eyes, shaking his head.
"This is not how I wanted to leave things between us," he rasped, and you looked down at the ground. He was the one who kept telling you he wanted to talk, but you kept shutting him out. 
When you opened your mouth to try to tell him that you still loved him, he held up his hand to stop you.
"You deserved more than what I gave you, okay?" he whispered, and your tears just came faster. "You deserved the world, and clearly I wasn't delivering on all of my promises. At the end of the day, if I'm the one responsible for all of your tears, then what fucking good am I as your husband?"
"Bradley," you croaked, sucking in a deep breath. 
But he just kept going, even though whistles were blowing and his squadron was being called. "I love you so much. I'm always going to. And I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this. I should have tried harder, because you are everything."
Your heart was breaking as he wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and kissed your forehead. You tried to say his name again, but nothing would come out except a wretched sounding sob. So you reached for him and kissed his lips softly. But then he was pulling away, and you felt bile in your throat. 
"I love you." Your voice was so soft and broken, you weren't sure if he heard you. As he joined Nat and Bob, you cried next to your car, overwhelmed by the feeling of finality. You stayed until he boarded the carrier, but then you climbed behind the steering wheel again. You needed to go to work. You needed to go home and change first. When you tried to start the engine, your fingers fumbled the keys. After three tries you screamed and pounded on the steering wheel with your fists. 
Your heart was broken, and now you had nothing to show for it except some bruised hands. But as you finally got the car started and headed home, you thought to yourself that at least your day couldn't get worse. 
That was just wishful thinking on your part. As soon as you walked inside your bedroom with the intention of taking a hot shower, your eyes caught on something gold on Bradley's nightstand. He had left his wedding band. He never took it off. You couldn't recall a single time he had removed it since you slipped it on his finger last November. 
It was cold to the touch when you picked it up. It was supposed to feel warm from being on his finger. You wanted to call him and demand an answer as to why he was going away on a deployment without his wedding band, but you were too scared to hear the answer. And as his words came flooding back, you climbed into bed with the ring held tight in your sore fist. 
You deserved more than what I gave you.
Bradley deserved more, too.
----------------------------
Well. Now they are both on their own for two months. And I hurt my own feelings. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
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permanentswaps · 5 days
Text
Hello, Dad
Read Part 1 by @possessionbodythief.
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Two years have passed since that fateful night, and I’ve settled into my new life as Jake with surprising ease. Watching the residents of the house over the years has proven invaluable in adapting to the modern world. My mannerisms have changed, but since the real Jake had always been uncertain about how his dad would react to being in a new body, it didn’t matter much. People around me simply chalk it up to growing up and finding myself.
After some time living with "my dad" - or Jake now in Robert's body - in the old house, I realized I needed my own space to truly embrace this new life. Moving out was a big step, but one I knew I had to take. I found a small apartment downtown with a view of the city skyline, a far cry from the haunted house I was confined to for decades. This place, with its modern amenities and vibrant surroundings, felt like a breath of fresh air. The sense of freedom and independence was exhilarating, something I had never known in my previous life.
"It's so good to be free," I whisper to myself, a smile spreading across my face.
My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my reverie. It's a text from "my dad."
"Hey Jake, you wanna grab dinner tonight? Been missing you."
My smile widens. I quickly text back.
"Sure, Dad. There's a new spot near here I've been meaning to try, wanna meet at 7?"
"Perfect. See you then, kiddo."
I put my phone down, thinking about how much has changed. Lately, I've been working out a lot. I feel a bit bad for Jake; he was just kinda impatient. It would've happened for him eventually if he had kept with a routine. I mean look at the transformation from then to now:
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But hey, his impatience is my gain. I'm still more lean than buff right now, but that's how I like it. There are a bunch of cute guys checking me out all the time. I've even managed to get a hot boyfriend.
But it seems Jake has noticed the changes the most. He even jokingly muses, "Damn, what I would've done to have a body like yours at that age." He's kidding, of course. He never experienced this age. In fact, we still have never mentioned the swap �� thank God, 'cause I don't want to risk him finding out who I really am in this body. Jake seems to be completely comfortable in his new body, never showing any signs of sadness or jealousy. He truly embraces his role as Robert and appears genuinely happy.
But sometimes, he throws in these playful comments that catch me off guard. Like the other day, I was stretching after a workout, and he walks in, giving me an exaggerated once-over.
"Look at you, all limber and toned. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to impress someone," he said with a wink.
He smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Well, you're definitely turning heads. Just make sure you don't break too many hearts."
I grinned back at him. "And look at you, Dad. You're in fantastic shape. You've got those muscles everyone dreams of."
Jake's eyes gleamed with pride as he flexed his bicep. "Damn right. I know I've got it going on."
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Another time, we were out for dinner, and I mentioned I was thinking of getting a new wardrobe.
"Oh really?" he replied, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Trying to show off those gains? I can't blame you. If I had your body, I'd probably never wear a shirt."
I chuckled, feeling a flush creep up my neck. "Maybe I'll take your advice and start a new trend."
It's not just my body that's improved, though. Jake has also been hitting the gym hard. He's in fantastic shape, even better than when I first took over this body. His muscles are more defined, and his confidence radiates in every movement.
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As I step into the upscale restaurant, the blend of modern design and rustic charm immediately catches my eye. String lights are draped across the space, casting a warm, inviting glow over the wooden tables and cushioned benches. The walls are adorned with lush greenery and vibrant flower arrangements, creating a serene and picturesque ambiance. The gentle sound of a nearby water fountain adds to the tranquil atmosphere. The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pizzas and herbed garlic bread fills the air, making my mouth water.
Jake is already there, waiting at our table. He looks up and grins when he sees me.
"Hey, kiddo," he says, standing up to give me a hug.
"Hey, Dad," I reply, embracing him warmly. "This place looks amazing. Ready for a feast?"
"You bet," he says with a laugh as we take our seats.
We start by ordering a variety of appetizers: bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes and basil, crispy calamari, and a charcuterie board that looks almost too good to eat.
"These bruschettas are amazing," Jake says, biting into one.
I nod. "Definitely. This place is awesome."
As we work our way through the appetizers and move on to the main course, a handsome waiter catches Jake's eye. He can't help but flirt, turning on the charm with every word. The waiter, clearly interested, flirts back, and by the time dessert arrives, Jake has the waiter's phone number scrawled on a napkin.
I can't help but laugh. "Wow, Dad, you're really on fire tonight."
Jake grins, waving the napkin. "What can I say? When you've got it, you've got it."
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We finish our meal with splitting a tiramisu. As we're wrapping up, Jake leans over, a serious look in his eyes. "Hey, why don't you come back home tonight? I've missed having you around recently. I'd really like it if you stayed over."
"Sure, Dad," I say, smiling. "I'd love to."
When we get home, he catches me looking at myself in the mirror, admiring my progress. The muscles I've worked so hard to develop are finally starting to show, and there's a newfound confidence in my reflection. Jake walks up behind me, his presence warm and reassuring.
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"You know, you've got this whole 'boy-next-door' vibe going, but with an edge. It's... intriguing."
I chuckle, a bit embarrassed but also pleased by his words. He steps closer and grabs my waist, his hands firm yet gentle.
He looks at me in the mirror, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "See, I told you," he says with a twinge of irony, "You just needed to wait for your growth spurt."
I turn to face him, our eyes meeting. "I guess you were right," I say, with a knowing smile. "It just took a little time."
A look of lust flashes over his eyes, and I feel a thrill run down my spine. He moves closer, his hands sliding up to my shoulders, giving them a firm, appreciative squeeze.
"And now you’re all grown up," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
Before I can respond, his lips are on mine, capturing me in a deep, passionate kiss. My body reacts instantly, pressing against him, the heat between us igniting something primal and intense. It's been two years since we last shared this kind of intimacy, and the hunger in his eyes tells me he’s been waiting just as long.
He guides me to the bedroom, our kisses growing more urgent, our touches more desperate. The anticipation builds as we shed our clothes, revealing the bodies we’ve both worked so hard to perfect. The air is charged with electricity, the desire between us palpable.
Jake pushes me gently onto the bed, his eyes roaming over my body with a mix of pride and lust. "You're perfect," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
He joins me on the bed, his hands exploring every inch of my skin, rekindling the flames of our past encounters. I gasp as his lips find the sensitive spots on my neck, my chest, my inner thighs. The pleasure is overwhelming, each touch sending waves of ecstasy through me.
When he finally enters me, it’s like coming home. The connection between us is deeper than ever, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. Every thrust brings us closer to the edge, the intensity building until it’s almost unbearable. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I match his rhythm, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"It's been too long," Jake groans, his breath hot against my ear. "I’ve missed this."
"Me too," I gasp, my hands clutching at his back, urging him deeper. "God, I've missed this."
His pace quickens, each thrust more powerful than the last. The room is filled with the sounds of our passion—the slap of skin against skin, the low moans and gasps, the whispered words of desire. I can feel myself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in my core.
Jake's hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, deeper. "You're mine," he whispers fiercely, his eyes locked on mine. "Always."
"Yes, Daddy," I moan, the words slipping out naturally, a thrill of submission coursing through me. "I'm yours."
The intensity of his gaze, the possessiveness in his voice, sends me over the edge. I cry out, my body arching beneath him as pleasure crashes over me, wave after wave. He follows moments later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he finds his release, collapsing onto me, spent and sated.
We lie there, tangled in each other’s arms, the afterglow of our lovemaking still shimmering around us. His weight is comforting, his presence a soothing balm. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine.
"That was incredible," I murmur, my voice soft and breathless.
He leans down to kiss me again, slow and sweet, a promise of more to come.
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faeryarchives · 5 months
Text
✧˚ · . happy birthday (malleus draconia x reader)
summary: from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. that is why the fae was so happy to receive your invitation for your special day, but why did he find you alone and crying under the night sky?
warnings: mild angst + slight ooc (its been a loooong time since i wrote for twst 😭)
note: i hope u guys will enjoy and if you ever experienced something like this i am so sorry 🫂 + i am late for malleus birthday so i wrote for twst en 2nd anniv instead hihi
recent fics: in sickness and in health & so what are we? & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader)
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for faes, time is a fleeting moment. having to watch others age and wither away, it was no surprise that malleus finds them so fragile and consistently succumb to age. and yet, malleus still discovers them to be fascinating - especially after he met you.
"are you a visitor? that's surprising. i am (name), the housewarden of the ramshackle dorm. sorry if you want to visit. our place is a little rundown right now, but how can i help you?" 
the peculiar house warden of the ramshackle dorm who never seems to be afraid while being in his presence and even asks him to be his friend. having someone other than his found family in diasomnia, he never thought he would get to learn new things after living for so long.
"oh yeah, i remember now. mal, can you come the day after tomorrow?"
"hmm? i can come here every day if you want, treasure. but why the specific date?" he watched as you became silent momentarily as if hesitating to say something before giving him your usual smile, sending butterflies raging again in his stomach. 
"nothing, i just want to celebrate my birthday with you."
imagine how he was on cloud nine after you invited him on your special day! from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. and he is very determined to make his gift the best you can get. and a determined malleus draconia won't stop finding a way to make you the happiest one on that day.
"do you think they would like this?" 
"having to receive a gift from you, my liege, is already a blessing!" sebek sobbed with tears comically running down his face, mumbling how he envied you for having the chance to receive a gift from the malleus draconia.
"oh malleus, i am sure little bat would love it." lilia chuckled, seeing the fae panicking over his present, even after spending two whole days and nights to find the perfect one to give you. 
silver, who was watching it all unfold, had a somber expression before sighing deeply. "father is right. i noticed how (name) looked like they were in low spirits earlier, i'm sure it will cheer them up." that seemed to stop malleus in his tracks; you were sad on your special day?
"silver, can you explain more about that?"
"it seems like they were having a bad day; when i greeted them a happy birthday, they looked happy for a moment before walking away looking glum."
that seemed to dampen the mood in the room, not knowing what to say. one look at his watch, lilia couldn't help but gasp in horror. 
"if you spend more time here, you will miss the opportunity to make little bat happy on their special day."
"that would be horrible. i must leave immediately!" in an instant, the dragon fae disappeared, leaving traces of green fireflies in his wake. seeing how rushed he went out, lilia couldn't help but let out a loving sigh.
"ah, young love!"
the fae appeared in his usual spot at the massive tree by your dorm, expecting to hear cheers and singing of happy birthday for you because, according to lilia, birthday celebrations are usually loud. but to his surprise, he was met with silence and a seemingly empty building.
"...oh? has the party not started yet? or is it finished?" 
malleus looks around to find any signs of you or your friends - a pout forming on his lips, feeling sad that he might have missed your birthday celebration. that is, until he passed by the field you two always walked by during your night trips. that is when he finally found you, facing the flower field while curling yourself into a ball. from where he was standing, he could see your figure shake, followed by the sound of your voice
'(name)...?'
"i just want to feel special just one time..." he watches as you try wiping the tears rolling continuously down your face but to no avail, echoes of your cries being carried away by the wind. malleus knew he should do something but couldn't bring himself to move from his spot.
because it is the first time he has ever seen you cry. 
"... i already knew i wasn't worth anyone's time," you mumbled and sighed deeply. "i am an adult now. i shouldn't feel this way. but why..." you didn't even get the chance to finish as your voice cracked at the end, lips trembling in an attempt to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was as if your body had another plan and let it all out. 
"why am i so easy to forget? haven't i done enough to be loved?" looking at the flower field ahead of you, despite the tears blurring your vision, you couldn't help but laugh. "am i that so isolated that i am talking to flowers now?"
the wind picked up for a moment before someone put their blazer around you, followed by a voice you knew all too well. "they are a wonderful companion too."
"m-mal! how long have you been standing there?" in a panic, you start to wipe your face with your sleeve and avoid eye contact with the fae, covering your face with your hands as you nervously laugh. before you could speak, cold yet gentle hands found their way to your hands. this caused you to turn your head to look straight at malleus, who was looking at you with his face filled with worry, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts.
"give me names." you blink at the sudden statement, confused.
"what?"
"give me the names of those who made you sad today. how dare they make you cry?!" the harsh wind stirred up the fallen leaves, clouds covering the starry night as malleus frowned, his hands getting tighter and tighter as the moments passed by. one closer look at your features and he could tell you've been crying for a while now, making him angrier. 
you were silent for a moment, shadows covering your eyes after, before wrapping your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. malleus was confused. the world stopped moving around him - his heightened hearing focused on your breathing and the sound of... laughter?
"... (name)?" hesitantly, he raised his arms before slowly wrapping them around you, hearing a hum of approval. the two of you stayed in each other's arms for a minute before you broke the hug and malleus could see you looking at him.
"thank you for coming. sorry if you had to see me that way." you turn to look over your dorm and shake your head disappointedly. "i thought you would also forget my birthday. i didn't expect you to come." playing with your hands nervously and taking a deep breath, you glanced him in the eye and gave him a strained smile.
"no one remembered my birthday until sebek and silver greeted me. i thought grim, and the others were acting like they didn't know; maybe they were going to surprise me, that's all!" malleus stayed silent, watching as you tried holding back your tears while telling your story. 
"i would never expect their genuine shock after hearing it." remembering the look on your friends' faces was enough for you to feel the raw emotions over again. "it might sound petty, but i just expected better, you know?" you sniffled. 
"whenever someone in the group celebrates their birthday, they remember every detail and all; the effort is there and everything. but when it comes to me, all effort disappears." you turn to malleus, and everything breaks down.
"all i ask is to feel special just this once. for people to see me as me - not the magicless human or the one who came from another world. is it hard for anyone to see me as their friend?" feeling the strength in your legs disappearing, you would almost fall to the ground if not for malleus catching you at the last minute.
the dragon fae held your hand in his, grasping it as your hand was made of glass. "didn't you invite them like you've done with me?" even though he was angry at your friends, malleus held back the voices in his head as he remembered about you talking about them so proudly.
"i did. but there were so many activities and exams for us first years this week."
"but being busy shouldn't be an excuse." he stopped before going on after finding you listening to him. "human friendship still confuses me, but the fact that they are not exerting the same effort they have to others - aren't you being... what do they call? taken for granted?" judging from the look on your face, he knew he had hit a sore spot.
"..."
"but that doesn't mean you should see yourself as someone lacking. you are worth so much love, my treasure." he runs his hand over your cheek before grabbing his gift and handing it to you. "i know how you treasure them, and how much they adore you too. maybe they are not still used to it but never think of yourself as the problem." you opened the box and stood unblinking, trying to process what you just received before staring back at malleus, demanding an explanation.
"i don't think i deserve this." inside the box was a beautiful emerald necklace. the enchanting green emerald reminds you the same way you would get lost in Malleus' eyes.
"nonsense. this is my gift to you, something that holds my magic to protect you whenever i am not around. without you, i don't think i would ever learn the joys of being friends with you as well as falling in love." he then wrapped the necklace around your neck, feeling satisfied with how it looked on you. he knelt down and took your hand in his, giving a kiss on the back of yours before staring back at you.
"happy birthday, my treasure. sorry i am late with my greetings. i was looking for the perfect gift-" without wasting another moment, you crouched down. you shared another hug with the fae, burying your head into his shoulder. he could still feel your body shaking not from sadness but joy. his hands wrapped around your back and gave you small rubs, attempting to soothe you.
"you silly dragon, just your presence is enough for me."
"is that so?" he hummed, letting your body relax into his.
"...thank you mal."
"anything for you, dear."
bonus!
heartslabyul, savannaclaw, octavinelle, scarabia, pomefior and ignihyde gang hiding in the bush to surprise you but ended up hearing everything you just said:...
silver looking at the big group, sighing: you guys messed up big time
lilia: hush they are about to kis-
sebek: WAKA - SAMAAAAAAAA
grim: NOOOOO MY HENCHHUMAN I AM SO SORRYYYYYY IT WAS ACE AND DEUCE'S IDEA!
339 notes · View notes
krirebr · 8 months
Text
We Are Vain & We Are Blind
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Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader
Word Count: ~9.7k
Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.
Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika
Masterlist
A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!
I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!
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Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.
You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.
You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.
You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 
Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”
You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”
“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”
Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”
“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?
“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”
“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”
She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.
You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.
“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.
At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”
You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”
“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”
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You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”
You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.
She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”
“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.
“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.
“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.
You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?
The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”
“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”
“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.
“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”
“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 
“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”
You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”
Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”
You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”
“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”
“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”
“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”
You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”
“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 
Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.
“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”
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Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”
“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”
“Yup! That’s how dares work.”
“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”
“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 
You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.
The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 
The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.
You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.
“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”
He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.
“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?
He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”
“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.
“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”
What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?
His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.
“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   
You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”
You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.
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You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 
“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.
“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”
“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 
“Not that I saw.”
“Then how do you know they’re for me?”
She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”
She nodded and left. 
You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 
You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.
Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?
His response was immediate.
Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular
You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?
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Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.
“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.
“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”
What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 
“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 
He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”
It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 
You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 
He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.
You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–
You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.
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That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.
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In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 
When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.
“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 
Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”
You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.
Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 
Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”
You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"
"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."
"Does it say how?"
He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."
"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 
He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.
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The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.
You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”
You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”
Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.
Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 
As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 
“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 
"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 
Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.
 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”
He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.
He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  
“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.
“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”
Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”
You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”
He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 
“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.
“No, they all passed a while ago.”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 
“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.
“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”
He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”
“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 
“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 
While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.
As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 
“What do you mean?”
You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”
She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”
“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 
She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.
“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”
You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”
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A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”
“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”
“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”
“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 
You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.
You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 
A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–
You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.
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You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.
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You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.
You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.
Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 
Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.
When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”
You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.
Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 
“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.
“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”
He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”
You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”
A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”
“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.
“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 
You shrugged and shook your head.
“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”
Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.
“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”
You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.
Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.
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Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.
Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.
There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 
Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.
The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.
Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.
For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.
“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”
“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”
“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”
As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.
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You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.
On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.
That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.
When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.
“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.
   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”
He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–
You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.
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The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.
As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.
“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 
You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”
“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”
“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”
“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”
That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”
They looked confused. “Like, ever?”
“No! Just in the past two weeks!”
They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”
You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”
Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.
“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”
“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.
“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”
“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.
“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.
“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.
Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 
You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”
So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”
You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”
“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”
“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”
“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”
“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.
Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.
You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”
You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”
You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.
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Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.
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It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.
When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”
“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”
A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”
“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”
You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.
Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 
As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.
As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.
You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.
You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.
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You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.
Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”
He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”
Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.
He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.
You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”
He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”
As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 
He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”
There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.
“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”
It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”
He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”
“And if I don’t?”
He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”
“No, no, please,” you begged.
“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.
You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”
Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 
You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.
Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.
“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.
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You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.
A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜
Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire
575 notes · View notes
astrolynnworld · 6 months
Note
Can I have a Chris fluff where he lifts the readers bump?
baby bump
pairings: chris x reader
summary: your back has been killing your active pregnancy. chris does whatever he can to relive that ache
warnings: fluff, pregnancy, sad thoughts, reassurance, comfort, love
a/n: in this fic, you and chris are already married
word count: 662
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it’s been almost 8 months since i found out that chris & i were having a baby girl.
i wanted to do the whole gender reveal theatrics but chris and i both agreed that we did not want to wait.
when we revealed the pregnancy to our family and friends, it was like endless masses of support.
everyone congratulated us, gave us money, sent gifts, and offered endless hours of help.
there are still gifts coming into this day.
although the pregnancy is starting to overwhelm me.
The cravings, the nausea, the headaches, and the pain that finds itself everywhere, especially my back.
it’s so hard for me to do the tasks that I once enjoyed.
I feel bad for chris because a once active wife had probably just become a burden to him.
I hated this thought, but I was left with no other choice when I would see Chris pick up everything that I used to do.
he was switched to start working at home so he could take care of me, our baby, and our home.
tonight I thought I would surprise him by making dinner to reward him for all his generosity and support with our new lifestyle that I was trying to adjusted too.
he had went to the store to go pick up a few items for the house that we have been needing, so i took this moment as an opportunity.
half an hour into cooking, my back starts to ache really badly. i decide to sit because i realize that i had been standing for a while
I take a five minute break, but this does not stop the ache.
I get back up to finish dinner since i had only had a few more steps left to complete in the recipe.
but, as im finishing up i hear keys start to unlock the door along with bags tussling as footsteps enter the house.
“babe?” chris calls out
“im in the kitchen” i respond
he follows the sound of my voice
“babe what are you doing? you’re supposed to be resting.” his voice says laced with concern
“i just wanted to surprise you with someone special. you’ve been doing a lot for me and i want to show you my gratitude” i say back in a soft tone
“baby.. you’re pregnant with our kid right now. do you really think you’re the one that needs to be showing gratitude to me?” he asks with a soft smirk
i smile at his rhetorical question
“i will never be able to show you enough gratitude for how much you mean to me and how lucky i am that you stick beside me everyday” he says while wrapping his hands around my back to give me a tight hug
i coo at the added pressure
“im sorry, did that hurt?” he asks with concern
“no, you’re fine. my back has just been aching all day.” i complain
“can i try something?” he asks
i nod my head yes with a bit of confusion.
he gently puts his hands under my belly and lifts its slowly.
the released pressure on my back and pelvis felt like heaven.
i drop my head on his shoulder as a sign of relief.
“i did not know about this relief tactic” i state with shock laced in my tone
“yeah. i did my research about the do’s and don’t’s with a pregnancy wife!” chris replies
i laugh at his humor
“i love you so much christopher.” i say as i lift my head up and look into his eyes
“i love you so much much y/n” he responds back.
he bends his head down to give me a kiss on the lips.
“now lets turn off this stove and get you into bed. you did enough for tonight.” he says while switching off the stove letting the, now cooked, food shimmer down.
he grabs my hand and guides me back to our bedroom.
———————————————————————
a/n: this was so cute to write, i loved it! hope you guys love as well
383 notes · View notes
thelov3lybookworm · 4 months
Note
Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?
My fault.
Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.
A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️
(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)
with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏
anyways, enjoy!
(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)
•○🌑○•
Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.
"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.
"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"
Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."
Y/n nodded absently.
They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.
It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.
Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.
When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"
"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."
Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.
"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"
Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"
"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"
Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."
It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-
That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.
Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.
She hated herself for it.
Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.
"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."
Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.
Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.
Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.
"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.
"Take care, Y/n."
Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."
•○🌑○•
Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.
Y/n came up lacking.
Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.
That he loved her.
She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.
She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.
The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.
That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.
"When will you stop being clumsy?"
He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.
"What?"
He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"
His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.
"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.
"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.
Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.
She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.
And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.
Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.
She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.
She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.
She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.
Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.
Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.
Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.
The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.
"Yes? How can I help you?"
Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.
"I- is Cassian here?"
The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"
Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."
Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"
"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.
A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."
Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.
"Can I have a word? In private?"
The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."
Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.
She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.
"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.
When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.
The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.
Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."
His brows furrowed. "Hi..."
She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"
He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."
His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."
She nodded. "I can tell."
Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.
"I- I can explain-"
Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."
He blinked again. "What? You... what?"
She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."
His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.
"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."
Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"
His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.
"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"
Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.
"Y/n-"
But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.
But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.
And he had tears in his eyes.
"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"
Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.
"Mates?" She whispered.
Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."
Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.
She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.
"Good night."
She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392
Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter
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witerh · 3 days
Text
need each other || boyfriend re4r!leon
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warning: nsfw, fluff, mention of leon's ptsd, dom/soft leon! phone handjob, on distance, dirty talk, animal names, caresses, orgasm, consolation, comfort.
rating: mature
plot: your boyfriend's long absence from home makes you miss him not only mentally but also physically.
all rights reserved!| please don't copy my work without permission!| 18+ content!| minors DON'T interreact!|
Long-distance relationships, no matter what temporarily or forever, are always an unbearable longing and need. Thoughts are filled only with when he will return and worry about one rustle at home because he can will return at any moment. A couple of days, weeks and months have already been passing for too long, hours and minutes are like honey — they are slowly tormenting you with its slowness. Joy knows no bounds when you hear a notification on your phone, you hope that it’s your boyfriend, but it turns out it’s just a notification about the weather forecast. At night, hiding a pillow between your legs is simply unbearable because the desire to feel real touches is much stronger. Memories of his hands on your body, wanting to console you and calm you down from bitter tears that you don’t deserve make you sad while he consoled himself with a glass of whiskey at the bar. The atmosphere in the house just suffocates you like never before. You are used to coming home from work and smelling the cooked dinner, comforting yourself in the arms of the blond talking about your day. But now it’s deathly silence, broken by the jingle of your keys in the lock.
A stream of cool air blows into your bedroom through the slightly open window while you lie in bed and chat with Leon. The corners of your lips turn up as you can you hear his voice as if it were some kind of treasure. His words through the phone speaker feel like they are say from the heart. Admitting how much he misses you and will be back soon with a gift in the form of a new dress that you saw on Instagram makes your heart beat faster than before. You tell how things are going on with you at work and, in general, the upcoming news in your life. You haven’t seen him for a long time, you haven’t felt his comfort and the warmth for a long time which now replaces blanket. Fleeting conversations with him on the phone warm you more than any fireplace in a harsh winter that does not want to be consoled. This mission is too long for both of you and your cunt is already getting wet from his message: “How is my girl coping there alone at home, hmm?" It torments you, but at the same time it gives you pleasure like never before. Sweet torture that you are ready to endure on your own skin with defeat and hand in panties.
While talking about something new at your work, you didn’t even not right away notice how Leon was half naked and with rosy cheeks. He often worked out in the gym, because you always need to keep in shape, just as you always need to keep the bookshelves in order from dust in your house. He carefully tried and trained his muscles, so that veins almost burst under his slightly tanned skin. I can’t say that you didn’t admire his muscular body, his chest, his abs, but still it was too much. It was too beautiful a sight for your head to see his strong hands, that a pool had already formed in your mouth from your saliva. You didn’t even ask your boyfriend whether he was home from practice or not, because you still knew the answer: “Yes, I was, baby, otherwise it wouldn’t be me.”
— You think so, what if were you at home and touched me right now? Explain yourself for me. — you reproached into the speaker feeling a rather familiar knot inside your lower abdomen. The sound of your voice so alluring made him root for you even more. Leon could imagine the playful smirk on your lips as you teased him. His strong hand ran over his aching cock, which needed you more and more. Kennedy's imagination is simply clouded by excitement and he cannot think right now.
— I would lie between your thighs... and eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner... I'll make you scream my name until you forget yours... — he sighed softly lost in my imagination. About how you squeeze his skull with your plush hips, how you will cry for release while his tongue carefully works over your body, how your hands grab onto his strands of hair as if it were a sheet that was stained with your juices and his saliva. It makes his skin crawl. Leon threw his heavy head back onto the pillow, which eventually flopped from the big fantasies of your entertainment after his mission.
He will definitely make your pussy happy.
His blond hair sticks to his forehead due to sweat because it's so hot in the hotel room! With every statement and request from Leon, you felt that there was already a lake of your fluids under your ass. There is no point in resisting the temptation, and your hand is already under the lace fabric and circling over your clitoris, caressing you while you imagine that these are his fingers.
— Oh, Leon, — you mutter for him and only him — I want you... — your words were a request and a plea with heavy breathing. Your words and the sounds of your cunt squelching against your finger made the fire inside him flare up. His hand lowered his sweatpants freeing his already hard cock from its confines. Leon's movements were desperate when he heard this symphony of your sighs and sounds.
— What a good girl, — he answered, frowning from the tension in this situation. With every stroke he imagined that you were doing this to him which brought him to an uncontrollable state. Your shared muffled chorus of arousal and moans was heard only by both of you and no one else. — What do you want, baby, now?.. I will do everything I can in my power, —
Your fingers began to tremble due to the way you were squeezing them with your walls. His voice and words were stuck in your head for a couple of seconds while you thought about them while your boyfriend continued to console himself and you heard it perfectly. — Fuck me, Leon... Рlease... I need you so much.. right now, — your thighs began to tremble involuntarily — a sign that your fingers were doing their job well.
— I'm close.. very.. Oh God.. — Kennedy's slight muttering that you couldn't quite understand. Leon was quiet that there were almost no moans for you, but for him your moans were very often. His hand increased the pace of movement, smearing precum from the red tip with his thumb. You both lost your breath and the approach only increased without stopping for mercy. The tension in the lower abdomen tormented him greatly, as did you, constantly reminding him of the long-awaited release. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew until it became almost unbearable. It's too much.
— Cum for me, baby, be a good girl for me... — he coos and his voice was hoarse with his desire and need for you. You succumbed to temptation with a hoarse cry, feeling like a knot was untying in the lower abdomen and your pussy ached and ached while your hips stood up slightly in trembling. You are lost and your mouth is dry and there is not enough saliva while your body is all wet from sweat and your own fluids, not to mention the sheet under you and now dirty pajamas. You could only hear his moans and low growls of his release with your encouragement. Thick strings of sperm released into his palm also staining his clothes and his skin.
You both walked away and breathed heavily without saying anything. — You liked it baby, huh? — his murmur was heard with the slight rustling of a napkin as he removed dirt from himself. Kennedy wanted to hear your approval or to hear what he did wrong in this unusual meeting on the phone. — This is not just “good”, it is ideal and only ideal, — you quietly whispered back.
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wreckofawriter · 8 months
Text
Lucky Charm
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
pairing: james potter x reader
summary (request by @delusionalcancer): hello! I was wondering if you could do a James Potter fiction where he has a very important quidditch match and begs you to go but you can’t so he is really sad but midway through he sees you in the crowd and gets super happy? Sorry if requests are closed!
word count: 5k
warnings: weed, language, a tiny bit of angst, james calls you doll, no y/n (i think)
a/n: been really liking writing about quidditch recently lol. This is based on book!james who is a chaser not a seeker. its a bit cheesy but i think its cute
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
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♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
The common room was never quiet after Gryffindor had a quidditch match. Even when you lost -a rare occasion- there would be a crowd of bitter fans, grumbling about an unfair call or an unlucky miss, late into the night. Usually quidditch brought life and excitement to Gryffindor, no matter the outcome. But today as students in red and gold shuffled up the marble staircases and through the portrait hole they were silent, even in large groups there was no more than a hushed nervous whisper among them. The usual complaints that followed a loss had been discarded and forgotten. 
It bothered you. It was uncanny and made you shift uncomfortably in your chair by the fireplace. A glance around told you that you weren't the only one feeling that way, an uneasy air had filled the room. 
The match had been a brutal one, even now the heavy drops pounded against the windows of the tower, the winds shifting and fighting, unable to decide which way to blow. The air was just cold enough to turn what should have been rain to sleet, sharp and cold. Many had been surprised that the match had even taken place, expecting it to be canceled due to such terrible conditions. But the heads of houses refused to back away from a challenge, and the Gryffindor team hardly seemed to mind. 
“Quidditch is played in any weather and every weather.” James had insisted, the morning before the match, “They won’t cancel a match for anything and I don't expect them to.” 
You had stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall anxiously watching as chunks of hail were blown sideways uneasily, “I don’t think I even wanna go watch.” 
James' face dropped as soon as you said this, “What? No!” he exclaimed, “You have to come watch. You're my lucky charm!” 
And of course when he said that with his lips pulled into his signature boyish pout you couldn’t deny him anything. 
Gryffindor was the favorite to win this year's cup, as they were every year since James joined the house team. It wasn’t all him of course but he had something no one else seemed to possess; raw and unbridled talent. People often joked that he was born to ride a broom, but it was hardly a joke. James’ broom wasn’t something he rode, it was a part of him. It seemed to a spectator that he could hop onto it and tell it what to do with nothing but his mind. He was graceful and precise so casually it seemed as if he were hardly trying at all. Today's game against Slytherin had been a shoe in, an expected win.
Which is why the loss had come with such a heavy silence. You couldn’t deny that Slytherin thought ahead, they too had been expecting the rain and had been a bit smarter about it, casting a series of enchantments and charms onto their players, paying extra attention to their seeker. So while your team fumbled through heavy storm clouds bogged down by drenched robes, the Slytherins had a relatively easy time navigating the skies. With this advantage they had taken the opportunity to humiliate the Gryffindor team as much as possible. 
Their chasers played dirty, purposefully slamming into the Gryffidors and then claiming they simply had not seen them. Their beaters were ruthless as well, using their bats for hitting more than just bludgers, one of them had hit your new third year seeker, Aada Laine, straight between the eyes with their wooden bat, breaking her glasses in two and bloodying her nose.
James, who was so used to winning and doing it easily, took this bitter start to the match poorly. His anger had risen quickly leading to a number of unnecessary fowls that the Slytherin team took with great enthusiasm and by the time Regulus had caught the snitch right from under a near blinded Aada, Slytherin was already up 120 to 40. Perhaps it was just the shame of a horrible game but as James landed he had been angrier than you had ever seen him. His usually unruly hair plastered down across his skull from the rain, one of the lenses of his glasses was cracked and he was gripping his broom so tightly you had been surprised it had not snapped in two. 
His obnoxious parade that usually occurred after a match had not taken place, in fact he had not even glanced at where you, Sirius, and Remus stood waiting for him on the edge of the pitch. Instead he marched across the mucky grass straight towards the seeker.
She was sobbing uncontrollably despite the fact that her nose and glasses had both been fixed by Madame Hooch. A few other teammates stood around the young girl attempting to offer comfort. But when James reached her he did no such thing, in fact he snatched the broom from her hand and yelled so loudly that even over the whipping of the wind and the jeers of Slytherin you had heard him kick her off the team. The rest of the Gryffidors had made to protest angry shouts and bitter words thrown at James but he had simply marched across the field and into the changing room leaving Aada wailing even louder than before.
No one had seen James since, and as you sat quietly in the common room with the other students it began to seem like you were all waiting for him. Waiting for him to show up, all smiles and jokes, and everything would go back to normal. But as hours ticked by and he never showed it became clear this was not going to be the case. 
By dinner time the common room had almost completely cleared out. The die-hard fans retreated to bed while the rest of the house trooped miserably to the Great Hall preparing for the taunts and jeers from the Slytherin table across the hall. 
It was almost dark by the time Remus climbed through the portrait hole looking annoyed, but he grinned when he saw you. 
“No dinner?” You asked him and he shook his head sitting beside you. 
“Been out looking for James.” 
Your eyes widened, “You still haven't found him?” 
“No we did.” He assured you quickly, “He's just acting like a prick so I decided I wanted to come in and dry off.” 
“Makes sense,” you sighed, “he looked furious out there.” 
“Tell me about it.” Remus groaned slumping back, his wet robes soaking onto the couch as he kicked his feet up on the coffee table, “He’s sulking like a child out at the boat house.” 
“Oh, he’s very mature.” You chidded and you both grinned lightly. 
There was a moment of quiet and the fireplace snapped, a portrait yawning. 
“I don't suppose you could go get him?” Remus asked, looking up at you hopefully. 
You sighed expecting this, “What makes you think I could bring him to reason?” 
“You know how he is,” Remus said and he was right. You knew exactly how James was, earnest and genuine and proud. You thought about it for a minute, Remus eyeing you hopefully. Reluctantly you gave in. “Well I best go get him.” 
You mumbled complaints under your breath on your way down towards the lake, the enticing smell and warmth of the great hall taunting you as you passed. 
The trail to the boat house was muddied and steep. By the time you reached the bottom you were shivering and damp, glad for the cover it provided from the wind and rain. James was seated at the edge of one of the docks staring out across the lake. 
You sat next to him and he turned, “Oh.” he said, “I thought you were Sirius.”
You grimace, “Does my hair look that bad?” 
James' usual laugh didn’t follow and instead he cracked a small forced grin. 
You’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of the rain pounding onto the roof and splashing onto the water. 
“Congrats on the game by the way.” You say.
“What?” James looked at you bitterly, “That's not funny.”
You grin, “Yeah but you were, I’d stand out in that shit weather to watch you knock Connaham off his broom again.” 
James paused, “He scored because of that.” 
“Eh, whatever,” you shrug, “Totally worth it.” 
You were expecting a laugh but instead James just shook his head, “You don’t understand.” 
“Well then explain it to me.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at him. 
“We’ve got absolutely no chance at the cup anymore.” He says fiercely. 
You shrug again, “Since when I thought we were favorites? You just lost one game.”
By the way James looks at you you can tell he's getting frustrated but you don't back off keeping his gaze lock with yours. 
“Ravenclaw hasn’t lost at all, and there's no way we're beating them by 230 points. We’d have to be 80 points up and catch the snitch.” 
“That doesn't mean impossible.” You point out and he glares. 
“You don't understand quidditch.”
“Says who?” you say and he shoots you a look, “Okay so what if I don't understand quidditch, I do understand that you're bloody good at it.” 
Your praise raises a genuine smile out of him for the first time that night. 
“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me.” He said, wiggling his brows. 
“Don't let it go to your head.” 
There's another pause in conversation and you take the opportunity to pull a small joint from the pocket of your robes.
James grins, “Ah so this is the reason you're out in the cold.”
“What? No! I'm here purely to comfort you.” You giggle, lighting it with the flick of your wand. 
He watches you out of the corner of his eye, the way your face lights up from the soft orange glow of burning hash. Your eyes sparkle and your lips pucker as you exhale. He finds it hard to look away but does so quickly when you turn to look at him. 
“Want some?” 
He nods and takes the joint from you grinning, “Thanks doll.” 
You flush at the pet name, something he called you a bit too often. 
The two of you pass it back and forth a couple times silently, watching the cold rain splatter onto the surface of the lake. 
“You should really apologize to Aada though.” You mumble the slight buzz of your high making your voice sound floaty. 
James doesn't say anything for a moment before he folds his arms stubbornly, “I was serious about that. She played like shit.” 
You furrow your brow, “You all did James, that's not fair.” 
Heat rises to his cheeks as shame bubbles in his stomach, “I don’t care if it's not fair. That snitch was four centimeters from her nose when Black caught it. She cost us the game.” 
“Her broken nose.” You fight back, “And it's a team sport, she screwed up yeah, but so did you.” 
Embarrassment flooded James' head in an angry red, “If it weren't for me it would have been a bloody blowout!” He snaps and you're taken aback, “I scored every damn point we had and youre saying I screwed up?” 
You look at him bitterly, “Yeah I am. You let yourself get all pissed off before the game was even up and your team fell apart. You're the captain, take some responsibility.” you scoff. 
James is now glowering, the softness of being high turned sharp and awkward, “You don’t even know what youre talking about.” 
“I may know nothing about quidditch James but I do know that making a little girl cry over a game is a prick move.” You spit. 
“It's not just a game!” He shouted at you so loud you flinched back. 
Your eyes are narrowed as you stand, “That's exactly what it is James, a game. And you let yourself get all worked up over it like a child.” 
He tenses as you speak, he feels as if someone had punched him in the gut when you look at him like that. But his pride takes over in a swoop and anger rises as he stands too, “What are you even doing down here?” He demands, “To smoke fucking weed and ‘comfort me’? You're not my bloody girlfriend!” 
You stop dropping your shoulders, he was right of course, you weren't his girlfriend. As much as everyone always seemed to assume you were, as much as you flirted and touched, sneaking off together into the night beneath his cloak. The two of you had always toed the line of intimacy but you had yet to cross it, something you lay awake thinking about most nights. 
“You're right.” You state firmly, “I don’t know what I’m doing down here.”  And you turn, throwing the roach onto the ground and stomping it out. You're back out into the night grateful, as the weather hides your tears. 
James doesn't follow though he bites his tongue harshly when you leave, wanting to call out, apologize and beg you to stay with him. But he doesn't, just watching you go with balled fists before he yells and swings at the stone wall.
The next morning is awkward when James makes it down to the great hall for breakfast, his hair messier than usual and dark circles under his eyes, the knuckles on his right hand scabbed.
The two of you sit on opposite sides of Sirius who carried the conversation on his back with great effort. 
“Godric, what is up with you two?” He asks finally, “You’re walking around like fuckin’ corpses.” 
“Nothing.” you shrug not meeting his eyes, “Just tired.” 
Sirius eyes you both, and then glances at Remus who is mentally praying for him to shut up. “Sure…”
You excuse yourself to head to Arithmancy and Sirius turns to James immediately, “So you guys finally shagged huh?” 
James sputters and Remus scoffs in disbelief. 
“That's not while you’re all awkward?” He gaped, “What the hell else could it be?” 
James grimaced, “We just… had an argument. “ 
“Don’t tell me it was over Quidditch.” Sirius says and James looks away, “Christ you're an idiot.” 
James just nods in agreement, letting his head rest in his arms. All of the anger he felt towards you had been replaced by regret over his sleepless night and now all he wanted was for you to smile at him, but you wouldn’t even meet his eyes. 
“Well, apologize.” Remus says, beginning to pack up his things, “Seems you have a lot of apologizing to do after yesterday.” 
James stares gloomily at where you had been sitting, “Yeah I know.” 
It's not till lunch when he finally gets you alone, cornering you on your way out of Herbology and back up to the castle. The grounds are wet from yesterday's weather and your shoes are covered in mud. 
“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I didn’t mean to yell at you last night, I was just upset and tired and I… I shouldn’t have done that. I'm really sorry doll.” 
You eye him skeptically, looking for a hint of anything but pure sincerity, but find none. His eyes are glued to you like he's begging you to forgive him and as usual you just can't say no. 
“All’s forgiven James.” You say simply, “Though you're lucky I didn't push you into the lake.” 
Neither of you mention the real reason you stormed back to the castle last night, what he had said about what you were, or more what you weren’t. The topic seemed too heavy for the bright sun that seeps through cracks in the clouds. 
He grins and throws an arm around you, “See this is why you're the best.” 
You raise a brow, “Why ‘cuz I put up with all your bullshit?” 
“No, because you forgive me for all my bullshit.” 
“That's because I know you're an idiot who only means about half of what he says.” You snicker and it feels as if the world has gone back to spinning when he leans into you.
“I'd give myself at least a good three quarters.” He smirks. 
“Of course you would.” 
Remus looks pleased to see you hooked under James’ arm when you enter the common room, “See you two have kissed and made up.” 
You flush.
“I think we're missing half that equation.” James said slyly, leaning in to peck your cheek, “There, all better.” 
“Get off me James,” You huff, heart pounding as you half-heartedly push him away to take a seat on the couch and you know everything is back to normal when he sits beside you and throws his arm back over your shoulder with a pout. 
And things stay normal, well as normal as they usually are. 
The weather begins to warm and the trees begin to sprout new growth, green and pink flowering across the forest whenever you look out the window. A sense of excitement has gathered in the students, even as exams approach the sun gleaming through dusty windows in the castle make everyone feel giddy. 
James has been practicing non-stop now as the final match against Ravenclaw approaches. He's out late, keeping the team out till dark to run drill after drill, play after play. He's even taken to giving private lessons to the new seeker, “Can’t have them falling apart when I leave, doll,'' He explained when you asked, “Plus I need her to be prepared for the match, we’re gonna win that cup again I swear.” 
It was nice to see he was nothing but optimism again, his natural state. But it all crashed to the ground when the date for the match was set. 
Your eyes go wide when he tells you, “The 16th?” 
“Yeah, so you better start making your ‘Go Potter’ banner now.” He says cheekily.
“James..” You pause and feel guilt bubble in your chest, “I have my apparition test on the 16th. It was set ages ago.” 
His face falls, “I thought we all took the test back in January!”
You shake your head, “Wasn’t 17 yet, my mum had to pull some strings so I didn't have to wait till summer.”
“So you can't come?” He’s devastated, his heart sinking into his stomach, he doesn't just want you there, he needs you there; to glance down at in the crowd after he scores, to wink at as he sweeps past, “But youre my lucky charm.” His voice is so soft it hurts.
 “I know James, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” You look down at your hands unable to handle the disappointment that was written on his face. 
He doesn't say anything, just staring down at the food on his plate. Suddenly his appetite was gone, he didn’t know what to think, how to think. What was even the point of quidditch if you couldn’t be impressed by his amazing dives and dodges?, “Will you at least be there before the match?” he asks.
You shake your head, “I’m leaving Friday after classes. My mum is gonna bring me back on Sunday.” 
And he wanted to cry, it was childish and dramatic but it felt like you were abandoning him before his big moment, his big match, one that he had been working so incredibly hard to win, “Oh.” is all he can muster out and you're both left looking at your laps. 
You apologize again, and try not to let the heaviness in your chest drag you through the floor. You weren’t sure if there was anything worse than disappointing him, you preferred him fiery and fuming.
When James reached the Quidditch pitch for practice that day he seemed to have lost all of his energy, his feet dragging. He kept getting asked if he was okay and he kept saying yes even though it felt like someone had smashed him to bits and put him back together with nothing but scotch tape. 
He played terribly, his usual charisma lost leaving his passes stale. He felt anger rising with every mistake he made, how could he let this happen? How could he let you have so much impact on him? How could one person missing from a stand of hundreds make him not even want to play? It was infuriating how obsessed he had become with you. Sirius and Remus had warned him this would happen, that his little crush would grow into a bulging monster, and they had been right. He simply couldn’t help it, you were stunning. And funny and brilliant and every other positive adjective he could possibly come up with, he would list what he liked about you for years if you asked. It was this reason he just couldn’t bring himself to confess, the only thing worse than having to keep you at arm's length was losing you altogether. And despite his friend's assurance that his feelings were returned he just couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t risk being wrong and not even being able to call you his friend anymore. Because, once again, he needed you. 
So he played it up, with the petnames and the touches, he took what he could trying to make it obvious, to convince you to make the move he so desperately wanted to. But you hadn't, you had just blushed and giggled, turning his heart to mush. 
And now he was sitting in an empty locker room, tears spilling down his cheeks because you couldn’t be at the most important game he had ever played, would ever play. He wiped them away desperately but they just kept coming, making his face feel hot and his head throb. 
The ache didn’t go away over time like he thought it would but grew, weighing him down like a ball and chain. Everyone noticed, his friends, his teammates and worst of all you. 
You kept apologizing, like it was your fault that his match had been scheduled on the one weekend you would be out of the castle. He could tell you felt terrible about it and it only made him feel worse that he wasn’t just bringing down his own performance but your own. If you didn’t pass your exam he was sure it would be his fault for making his own devastation at your departure so obvious. 
The sixteenth approached with building anticipation, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors that usually got on quite well had begun to shout obscenities at each other at dinner. Team members were taunted constantly in corridors on the way to classes, a duel had even broken out between two beaters, landing them both in the hospital wing for a short spell. But of course ever the strategist, the Ravenclaws had saved their best ammo for last. 
It was Friday night before the match and you had already left giving James a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek ‘for luck’ that had actually improved his mood quite a bit. As if sensing this the Ravenclaw captain had materialized before him on his way back from dinner with a sick grin on his face. 
“Heard not even your girlfriend wants to watch you lose tomorrow Potter.”
James flushed red, “Piss off, Robinson.” 
He just laughed, “I mean after your horrid performance last match I bet you asked her to leave huh?” 
James tried to swallow his fury but he was not doing very well, his fists bunching at his sides. 
“Maybe when I win she’ll realize you're all talk and finally go on that date with me.” he taunts. 
James knows this is very untrue, you had confessed to him many times that you found Robinson nothing short of annoying, claiming he had an even bigger head than himself, but he still felt jealousy rising in his gut. Would you think less of him if he lost again? Would you laugh about it behind his back? Would you give some other guy a kiss on the cheek and wish him luck instead? He wasn’t sure he could bear even the thought. 
He strode past Robinson with a seething glance, “You're gonna be bloody crying by the time the match is over tomorrow.” He hissed and then marched up the stairs to a restless night of dreams involving you kissing some faceless guy in blue quidditch robes. 
James felt sick the next morning, his head was throbbing behind his eyes and no matter how much bacon he tried to force into his mouth he just didn’t feel like eating. It wasn’t until Aada came up to him literally shaking from nerves that he realized he was just gonna have to pretend to be okay. 
He gave his usual pep talk in the locker room, but his eyes were cold and hard instead of the usual glowing excitement that he alluded. The team was tense when they marched out onto the field, the sun was out and the sky was clear. A cold morning breeze swept across the grass as he shook hands with a smirking Robinson and he shivered. 
The whistle blew and it began. 
“Potter with the quaffle!” The commentator began, “Nice dodge there, oh that looked like it hurt! It’s Ravenclaw with it now.” 
James growled rubbing his side where the bludger had hit him and racing after the girl who had snatched his fumble. 
The game pushed on and James was surprised to find that while he was playing mediocre at best, the rest of the team seemed to be making up for it on the tenfold. Aada, who had been instructed to do nothing but annoy the Ravenclaw seeker until Gryffindor was eighty points up was doing a magnificent job, the extra time he had put into training  her showing obviously in her skillful maneuvering and dives. The beaters had yet to miss a hit and twice James had been able to score with only the keeper as an obstacle. 
Despite the fact that they had gone in at a significant disadvantage the Gryffindors were shockingly loud, James didn’t glance much at the crowd, afraid it would make him realize who wasn’t there more than who was, but he could hear them even over the whooshing of wind in his ears. 
They were almost an hour into the game when the snitch was first spotted, but only 50 points up, Aada was unable to go for it and instead took the opportunity to run straight into the Ravenclaw keeper, nearly knocking him off his broom. She played it off beautifully, tears and all, and it cost them only one penalty shot which their keeper saved. James could have hugged them both. 
When the quaffle was tossed after, Robinson had snatched it from James’ grasp and sped towards the hoops. A bludger caught him in the side and the quaffle spiraled from his grip down towards the Gryffindor crowd, James raced after it, his feet sweeping inches from the heads of his classmates when he caught it with a roll. It was then that something caught his eye. 
A flag so large it was being held by four people was spread and waving mere inches from his face, the words, “Go Potter!” sprawled on it in red and gold ink that had been enchanted to send off sparks that crackled and snapped with golden light. 
He looked down and saw you staring up at him, a red hat pulled over your head as you cranned up at him, waving your arms as wildly as you could possibly manage. You were grinning so wide he could see each of your teeth, your cheeks pink and eyes glinting as you cheered up at him. 
When you locked eyes he felt his heart rise from his stomach and pound away in his chest. He wanted to drop into the stands that very moment, take you into his arms and kiss you stupid. But instead he sent you a wink and sped off towards the goals feeling like someone had just gifted him a pair of wings. 
“Potter with the quaffle, bludger coming his way. A beautiful dodge!” The commentator yelled, “And he's looped Robinson as well, look at him go!” 
James had never felt so confident in his life, and he scored with ease again and again, coming to do a victory lap round your flag each time he did. 
“And Potter scores again!” shouted the loudspeakers, “He has been simply unstoppable! Gryffindor leads 160 to 80!” 
The cheers were deafening around you and James once again hoovered above you momentarily, blowing you a kiss that caused your cheeks to light on fire. He was actually doing it, he was winning the match he had told you was impossible and pride swelled in your stomach. It wasn't ten minutes later when Aada caught the snitch and it was official, you had won, both the game and the cup. 
The team hurdled to the ground and swarmed their seeker, but James had started in a run the opposite way, towards the crowd that was now rushing out onto the pitch. 
He shoved past the first few to reach him and beelined for where you were jogging at him, arms spread. 
You collided with such force that if he hadn’t lifted you into the air you were sure you would have toppled over onto the ground. His arms wrapped around your waist spinning you around with a shout, “You came!” 
You nodded, smiling so hard it hurt, you looked down at him, his cheeks flushed, brown eyes glistening in the sunlight and you knew at that moment that it was meant to be. You took both hands and cupped his face pulling it into yours and kissing him feverishly. 
There was a loud chorus of cheers and whoops around you but neither of you heard, too lost in the taste of one another. When you broke away he was grinning even wider, “You passed then?” 
You had forgotten all about your test that morning, but he hadn’t, of course he hadn’t. 
“Yeah, I disappeared as soon as they handed me my license.” You giggled, heart hammering in your chest, “Mum’s gonna kill me for missing dinner.” 
“You’re a bloody treasure doll.” He laughed, and then he drew you into another kiss squeezing you tight around the middle as your hands ran through his hair. “My lucky charm.” 
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
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bbybaku · 29 days
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG
i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always
follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end
5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)
warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism
you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.
which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.
You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.
That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.
He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.
You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.
Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.
Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.
You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?
but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.
You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.
But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.
It was summer after all.
You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.
You saw him in passing.
He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.
You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.
Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.
Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.
there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.
you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.
but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.
as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.
no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.
obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.
when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.
even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.
something was anything.
and anything was something.
just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.
you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.
he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.
what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.
he still played video games at night and listened to music.
you still changed infront off the window.
you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.
a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.
but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.
you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.
your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.
and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.
you had to hide your excitement.
how much did he know about you? was he even interested?
as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.
you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.
“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”
you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.
“oh yeah hey”
“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”
you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”
he did his little wave and went inside.
you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.
he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.
if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.
the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.
you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.
when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.
you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.
you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.
you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.
your eyes instantly met.
you dropped the bag you were carrying.
“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.
“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.
your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.
your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.
you had to rein in your excitement.
“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”
they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.
the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.
you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.
he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.
you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.
you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.
you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.
you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.
you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.
he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.
you excused your self for more alcohol.
you talked to your mom
felt the warm effects of the alcohol.
made eyecontact with tomura.
talked to some more of the party guests
more prolonged eye contact.
You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"
after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.
you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.
the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.
your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.
"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"
he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-
"Y/n?"
"Sorry?"
"they were asking about your plans after college"
"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"
your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."
he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"
he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.
you poured yourself another drink.
he cracked open another beer
“so what are you drinking?”
he shrugged and took a sip
“doesn’t taste very good”
you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.
“so you study-“
“can we quit it with the small talk?”
he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.
he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”
you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.
it was the opposite.
you felt like you were on fire.
it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.
you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.
it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,
"wanna get out of here"
"yes. yes please" you whispered.
"thats what i like to hear"
he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.
he stopped you in front of one of the doors.
you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.
your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.
"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.
you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.
something hard.
"all the fucking time" you whisper back.
he doesn't say anything.
he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.
his hand does it again.
youre looking down.
his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.
he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,
and then he kisses you.
not a little gentle kiss.
your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.
your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.
you could feel his hard on.
you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.
his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.
tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.
he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.
an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.
you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.
“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.
you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.
his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.
"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening
the man smiled and walked away.
once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.
this one wasn’t like the first one though.
it was rougher. it was something more
tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,
“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”
he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.
you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.
your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.
his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.
he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.
his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.
you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.
with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.
you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.
you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.
he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.
“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.
“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.
you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”
“can we sneak out to your place?”
this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”
the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.
there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.
he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.
he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.
you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.
you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.
you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.
he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.
you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.
you gave him a small nod in agreement.
you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.
she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.
you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
the next five minutes were a blur.
your hand in his.
running over to his house.
his frantic effort to unlock the front door.
instantly making out against the front door once inside.
running up the stairs with him right behind you.
hands intertwined.
barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.
tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.
he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.
you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,
"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"
he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.
his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.
his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.
all while milking your other.
his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.
his eyes find yours.
“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.
your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.
the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.
and mouth.
your hips find his.
you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.
your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.
he inhales shakily.
"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.
he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.
your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.
you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.
he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.
you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.
since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.
he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.
your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.
he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.
you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.
he raised his eyebrows slowly.
he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.
he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,
"I said not yet,"
and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.
you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.
your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.
you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.
he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.
you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.
"lets get rid of these, shall we?"
he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.
"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"
you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.
shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt
"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"
you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.
you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.
he definitely noticed your gaze.
he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.
Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.
your favorite.
he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.
he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.
he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.
He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.
so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.
his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.
the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.
he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.
kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.
kissing down to your soaking wet sex.
his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.
he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.
you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.
he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.
with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.
you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.
your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.
shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.
you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.
"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.
his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.
there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.
he was hung.
8 inches long and thick.
all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.
"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.
all you could do was nod your head.
he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.
he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.
"you ready?"
you hum in response
"mmm i need a yes"
"yes, I am ready"
"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"
he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out
tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.
your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.
he does.
you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.
"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"
he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.
once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.
"can you start moving slowly?"
he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,
with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.
tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,
"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking
"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out
he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,
you both moan.
"fuck, youre so tight,"
"you youre so big"
his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,
"youre so fucking beautiful"
you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.
"lets switch positions"
you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.
he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.
he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.
tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.
just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.
and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.
you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.
tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,
"came again so soon? thats my girl"
he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.
his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,
"im close i wanna see your face"
"okay" you say through breaths
he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,
tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.
your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.
his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,
you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.
one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.
tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.
the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.
tomura is the first to break the silence.
he swallows and rubs his jaw,
"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"
m.list
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