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#don't act like only you know what misery is!!!!
thesmpisonfire · 6 months
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Everyone that says that the Other Teams Haven't Suffered As Much As Red never watched their povs hope this helps 👍
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jaythelay · 5 days
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If ya really didn't like Somerton I think you'd move on but seems to me people wanna keep him in the limelight.
Dude ain't reaching his old plagiarised height, that's dead and gone, now he's trying to meme himself back into relevancy. It won't work, but assuredly, it has kept him continually more relevant than the plagiarised work he made harder to source.
If you don't like Somerton, move on, otherwise, ya like the drama that is Somerton, only he can produce, inherently, You like Somerton, move on if ya don't, otherwise, ya want more Somerton.
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wordstome · 5 months
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kosovo maiden (könig x reader)
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Well, I did it again, gang. I wrote another story based on a painting. This one is by Uroš Predić in 1919, and was posted to Tumblr here (thanks to arcana-imperii for posting!)
I don't know anything about Kosovo, so the reader here isn't explicitly Serbian ;; please forgive me. Also, apologies for possibly inaccurate ambiguously late-1800s setting, medical information or German. Please enjoy!
2.2k words
There are soldiers in the field.
You heard the sounds of battle early in the dawn, the piercing explosions of gunfire and cannons ringing out as the sun rose. You weren’t concerned at first: it was far enough away that you felt safe enough to carry on as usual. But the gunfire drew closer and closer, and by noon you could hear the shouting and the battle cries, driving you trembling into your attic with terror. Mercifully, the fighting peters out as the sun sinks lower in the sky, but when you finally work up the nerve to peek out of your window, you find to your horror that the grassy field adjacent to your humble little home is littered with the bodies of dead and dying men.
Without a single further thought to your own safety, you grab a lantern and a pitcher of water and rush into the night.
It’s awful. Most of the men left behind are already cold, some whose eyes you have to shut yourself. The ones who were able to be saved were likely evacuated by their comrades, so the only ones left to face the cruel nighttime are the ones who won’t see the morning after. A few are still conscious when you find them, but you have little more to offer them than a gentle touch and one last drink of water. Their eyes are what will haunt you most after today: slick with tears as grown men weep, all semblance of courage and proud masculinity stripped from them as they face down their imminent demise. It’s terrible, heart-wrenching, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’re the only living thing left that can offer them comfort in their last moments.
The jug of water dangles from your hand as you trudge through the field, looking for anyone at all that you can provide help to. You’ve long abandoned any hope of finding someone you can save when you come across him: the giant in the grass.
It’s well and truly nighttime at that point, your lamp the only source of light upon what seems like a sea of human misery. The light hits his face, and you gasp. Your first thought is of how huge he is, at least 200 centimeters if he were standing. Your second thought is of how handsome he is…
You jolt to attention as he shifts and groans. He’s alive! Shaking some sense into yourself, you don’t hesitate to rush to his side. Your hands roam across his body, assessing the severity of his injuries. To your surprise, he doesn’t seem to be mortally injured. They’re severe, to be sure—he won’t be able-bodied for weeks. But he’s far from at death’s door, only confused and dazed…had his comrades only left him due to his sheer size?
Using your hand to support the back of his head and neck, you tip some water into his mouth in an attempt to revive him. The man cracks an eye open, regarding you with feverish wonder.
“Ein Engel…” he murmurs. You’re too elated that he’s alive, so you don’t actually properly hear what he said. With light, deft fingers, you tear strips of his tattered shirt and use the cloth to wrap up a scrape on his arm and stem the flow of a very nasty-looking wound up along the broad plane of his torso. To your alarm, however, the man seems to slump, his head laying back as if he’s about to lose consciousness.
“No, no,” you cry in panic, shaking him without heed of his injuries. “Sir, you cannot sleep here, I am unable to carry you…you will die out here!”
He mumbles something inaudible, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn’t passed out on you yet, but you have to act quickly to properly care for his wounds. You shift your body so you can maneuver his uninjured arm onto your shoulders. Luckily, he seems to comprehend what you’re trying to do, and manages to stumble to his feet while leaning his weight on you.
It’s an awkward, fumbling dance, considering your earlier assessment of his height was correct—he’s a huge man, and his torso alone nearly dwarfs your entire figure. But with a good measure of patience, you manage to get him moving towards your house. It’s high time you returned home, as well: your stomach roils as you remember what happens to corpses left outside for scavengers to find.
The two of you stumble through the doorway of your home, you murmuring soft affirmations and encouragement to the man. He makes no indication that he understands what you’re saying, but he’s nodding along, responding to your gentle tone. You guide him to lay on your bed, his body visibly relaxing as he sinks into the mattress.
You bustle around, lighting candles, stoking your fireplace, and rummaging around for medical supplies. You return to him with a basin of warm water, a cloth, and some bandages—before stopping dead in your tracks.
In the low lamplight out in the field, you hadn’t noticed the color of the man’s uniform, much too preoccupied with his signs of life. But now the truth is laid bare in front of you as you take in his attire, eyes traveling over his broad body—
You’ve just taken in an enemy soldier.
The man has seemingly fallen asleep, likely exhausted by the battle and the effort it took to get into your home. That does nothing to assuage your fear, though: what are you going to do if he passes away right in your bed? Even worse, what are you going to do if he wakes? Will he be hostile? Will he attempt to take you as a hostage to secure safe passage out of his enemy’s territory?
It's clear to you, though, that if you don’t help this man, he will die. His wounds could easily turn septic, and then he’s a goner. You steel yourself and approach him, kneeling at his bedside.
You work slowly and carefully to reveal his injuries, wincing when they’re completely exposed. He’s no longer bleeding profusely, but he will absolutely need stitches. For now, you settle for cleaning them with a damp cloth, trying to keep infection at bay.
He must be well and truly knocked out, because he doesn’t even stir as you wrap his arm securely with clean bandages. You’re much more hesitant to deal with his chest wound: if he wakes and struggles, he could make it much worse. But his unconscious state affords you the best opportunity to stitch him up…
You furrow your brow and go to find a needle.
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You’re awoken by a gentle touch on the shoulder.
You stir from your sleep, wondering what your mother could possibly want at such an early hour. At least she put the fire on—you can hear the crackling. But why is your bed so hard? Did you fall asleep on the floor? Actually, now that you think about it, you do recall dozing off on your sheepskin rug last night, because—
Your eyes shoot open to see a huge, hulking figure standing over you.
The soldier startles when you scream, scrambling to move away from him. He cuts an intimidating figure in the early morning light: he towers over you in a state of undress, the bandages you put on him last night splotched with rusty dried blood. But you calm down as you realize he means you no harm, his hands outstretched in front of him as a show of peace: no weapons.
“Wo bin ich?” he asks. You squint at him. That sounds like German, but you can’t speak a word of it.
“I don’t speak German,” you try. He tilts his head, looking as puzzled as you feel right now.
“Never mind all of that,” you say, shaking your head and pushing yourself to your feet. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!” The soldier watches with amusement as you press your hands against him, careful to avoid touching his chest where you know his wound lies, in an attempt to get him back into bed. He allows you to do so, lying back down like an obedient dog.
“Muste pissen,” he murmurs as you fuss over him. You shoot him another confused look as you check the stitches you put in his chest wound. All seems well, you note with relief.
“What?”
He huffs a sigh. He gestures towards the door, and then then to his…oh.
“I see,” you say, cheeks feeling hot. You can’t bear to look at his face, but when you do, you find he’s watching you with amusement.
You tap his chest with a finger, then mime a sewing motion. “Don’t get up on your own from now on, you could tear your stitches,” you tell him, pointing to the door and then to patting your own chest. “I’ll help you.”
He snorts, but nods. You start to unfurl the bandages on his arm, heart twinging with sympathy as he grits his teeth in pain. You bite your lip in chagrin as the wound is revealed. It was much less severe than the one on his chest, but it’s doing much worse: pus and fluids are leaking everywhere, and to your horror, you think some parts of the torn flesh might actually be turning green.
“Es sieht schlecht aus?” he asks, concerned. You put on a smile you hope is comforting and rise from his bedside to go downstairs and rummage through your cupboards.
You return to him holding a bottle of liquor, the strongest you could find. He seems to realize what you intend to do, and shifts slightly to allow you better access to his arm.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper to him. “This is going to hurt.” Without further warning, you dump a good amount of alcohol on his wound.
“SCHEIẞE!” The bellow of pain that rips out of his throat seems to shake the very foundations of your home. You wince as he hollers and lays back heavy against your poor little bed, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat. That can’t have been pleasant…
“Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen,” he grits. You give him a sympathetic little pat before withdrawing to get the bandages.
He’s calmed down by the time you return to him. He watches you curiously as you wrap him up nice and snug, then turn your attentions to his chest wound. The stitches are still in place—it seems he was careful when he relieved himself—but you still need to clean and dress the wound. He lets out a sigh of relief when you opt for a clean cloth to dab away the dried blood instead of the liquor bottle.
You work quickly and efficiently, worried about him catching a cold with his chest out like this. You also can’t deny that the whole situation is starting to make you a bit shy—a foreign man, and an attractive one at that, is in your bed, shirtless, and you’re all but sprawled out on top of him to get up close to his injury. By the time you’re done, you’re fully blushing at the closeness of the contact between the two of you.
“You should be alright, it’s a good sign that you lasted through the night and haven’t developed a fever yet,” you tell him as you gather up the soiled bandages to be washed. “You’ll need to stay in bed so I can keep an eye on you—”
You’re drawn up short when you look up to see his face. Far from the angry scowl he wore when you disinfected his wound, his expression now is almost…admiring? You shift slightly, caught off guard by the adoration in this stranger’s stare, and your arm brushes against something solid and warm.
You stand up as if burned, turning to see what you just touched. To your chagrin, you find that the soldier is…well, he’s hard.
You whirl around to fix him with an outraged look, but he only laughs at you with obvious delight. What a pervert! You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do or where to look, but you’re stopped by the sensation of him reaching up and pressing a hand to your face.
You stare at him, wide-eyed, as he strokes your cheek with a sort of reverence that stops you in your tracks. “Mein Retter…” he murmurs. “Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders.”
You huff, recognizing that he’s trying to apologize. “You don’t act like an injured man at all,” you complain. A spark of mirth comes into his eye at your pouting tone as he just chuckles at you. You turn to walk away, yelping when you feel his hand brush against your bottom. You shoot him with a deadly look as he laughs again.
You scurry away, feeling awkward and hot all over. You had been so concerned last night about whether you should stay in the same house as the potentially dangerous soldier, pacing the floor and biting your nails as you pondered whether you should give him up to the local authorities. In hindsight, you’re glad you didn’t—they would surely have locked him in a cold cell with nobody to look after that festering gash on his shoulder, to say nothing of his chest wound. It was worth it to risk waking up to a man angry and spitting hatred at you, if you could save his life.
But now you’re realizing that you hadn’t considered the opposite possibility: that the soldier might like you a little too much.
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ein Engel = an angel Wo bin ich? = Where am I? Muste pissen = had to piss Es sieht schlecht aus? = Is it bad? Scheiße = shit Das tat schlimmer weh, als die verdammte Wunde überhaupt zu bekommen = That hurt worse than getting the damn wound in the first place Mein Retter = my savior Entschuldigung. Ich konnte nicht anders = I'm sorry. I couldn't help it
Once more, I wrote this in a frenzy akin to being possessed, so it's a little short. But there will definitely be more! Thank you for reading <3
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Horikoshi giving hero tropes to the villains is probably my favorite part of bnha.
He presented us with a nervous wreck of a boy at the beginning of the manga. Look, he seemed to say, isn't he creepy? isn't he evil? He met Tomura in his most lanky form. Malnourished, neglected, real dead hands all over his body and blunt nails digging mercilessly in his skin.
Sure, the story paints him as a real villain. He is there to kill kids, after all. He wants to kill the light of the hero society, to spread violence and hatred all around. He's also very very suspicious. You get that feeling that there's more to the story. It's in the way he acts, his desperation. He looks sick. What is he making him so? What is his story?
Tomura is a loser. A failure since the beginning, if you follow the narrative. Characters like Stain, Overhaul and Redestro point it out: Tomura isn't the best strategist per se, they can't understand his reasons to do what he does, there's something wrong with him in villain terms.
That's when the brain starts to pick up the signals and plants the doubt. Many people don't notice it, but something in the story gives away that he is a very special type of villain.
We see him alone in his dark messy room, staring at a screen. We see him drinking alone in a bar as he sits on his misery. Over and over, we see that evil boy and his burdened stance. Only Kurogiri is there. His master only talks to him through some radio. He doesn't mention anyone else. No one else seems to live in that bar but Kurogiri and him.
Back then, when Tomura was all about AFO and All Might and no one else, he felt hollow. Rotten.
We first saw him approach someone for help and some company after the first LOV members were introduced. We meet Toga and Dabi, then Tomura goes to find Deku. Is he still creepy? Yes. Is he still evil? Also. We have Giran talking about Tomura with the fondness you reserve for a spoiled child. The way Kurogiri and Giran talk about it, it's more like Tomura needs to make some friends. He's not used to it, so he's being rude to them.
He's a chosen one reluctant to make friends, since he's used to doing things on his own— or at least with people he didn't care about. Next time we see him, his telling Kurogiri that he doesn't want them to die, he wouldn't sacrifice them for a goal and he actually wants them to succeed. He talks like a leader, he considers them important.
When they show us the LOV around Tomura as he talks to a kidnapped Bakugo, there's something in there already. How they worry when Bakugo hits Tomura and knocks the hand out of his face. They humanize Tomura, which is a lot to say when AFO did everything he could to dehumanize him. They make Tomura be more mature, more responsible and more capable. While AFO paints Tomura as a foolish child that cannot get things right until he's guided there, the LOV trusts Tomura to take care of himself and guide them.
That's when the hero tropes with villains started.
A quick list from the top of my head:
Twice overcame his trauma mid-battle in order to save Toga and then the LOV.
Tomura was tempted by Overhaul to betray the LOV in exchange for power. He pretended to agree, only to backstab Overhaul because Tomura would never forgive those who hurt his friends and would never betray the LOV.
Magne went to attack Overhaul for offending her and her friends, defending their ideals and their right to exist 'til death.
Mr. Compress took the leading role in many dangerous situations to assure that the LOV would get their win, but also to assure they'd make it out alive.
Tomura would forgive people not on his behalf, but for the benefit of the LOV.
Giran refused to sell any info about the LOV and laughed in his captors face because he was not so important to them. Turns out he was bluffing about it being all business, since we know from Twice's flashback that he did it also for the fondness he felt towards the LOV and the LOV went there to rescue him.
The LOV rushing through a battlefield the size of a city while desperately trying to find a way to save Tomura.
Twice and Mr. Compress refusing to leave Tomura fighting Gigantomachia alone and taking the burden of his training with him.
Dabi doing all he could to save Twice and snapping when he realized Twice was dead.
Mr. Compress worried about Toga and her solo mission.
Spinner telling Toga that she needs to come back safe and sound to them.
Tomura refusing to die or give up while the LOV still needs him (to be a hero).
Twice already dead and still moving because he needed to save Toga.
The entire LOV refusing to even consider defeat because they blindly believe that there is no way Tomura can lose.
And there's so much more...
The LOV made Tomura act heroic. They gave him a reason to want to save and protect, instead of just wanting to destroy.
The power of friendship but for evil.
Isn't it the best thing ever?
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | Ch.3
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), oral (f. rec), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating, it's the dirtiest smut I've written, sexual harassment**, violence, mentions of blood, anything else lmk! ch.3 synopsis: to get sunghoon off your mind, your friends suggest tagging along to a party, but things don't go as planned and you're driven closer to sunghoon than ever before. wc: 16.8k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i have decided to give you this all early since i finished the editing early. it's actually my birthday tomorrow so i won't have time to finalise it, please take this as my gift to you! thank you for the love on the last few chapters, it means so much that you are enjoying it, and as always, comments, likes, and feedback are always appreciated! **the sexual harassment scene is small but as it can make people uncomfortable, i have put <*> before and after the scene! (this is also the only scene in the whole fic like this just fyi!) yn explains what happened with little detail later on so you won't miss anything by skipping it!
For the past week, you've been engulfed in misery. It's as though you're trapped in a downward spiral, confined to your bed while your hair tangles into knots. 
A massive part of your despair was the aching in your chest from pondering what could have been, the unknown of if you ended something that could have bloomed into something wonderful. You had never felt like this before, not through any of your situationships or even that one failed relationship when you were 16 and thought they were the one. 
Adding to your distress is the burden of deceiving your brother about the situation. Minhee came to check in on you every day to make sure you were okay. Of course, you didn’t tell him you were going through emotional turmoil, simply portraying the act of a sickly Victorian child who was too poor to leave the bed. He bought it at the beginning but now you can see him starting to question your sneeze’s authenticity. 
Still, he was there looking after you, bringing you your favourite Lucozade and going all away across town for that vegetable soup you loved. Why did he have to be so nice?
Currently, your room has been infiltrated by Allen and Rina. You haven’t messaged them or attended Uni since last Thursday and Rina being the overdramatic friend she is, came barging into your room, wearing all black to ‘mourn the time lost between you’. She wasn’t exactly enthralled by your reasoning for the lack of communication.
"So you're telling me," she exclaimed, flinging herself onto your bed, "that you, my best, most cherished friend, couldn't even bother to message me because of some guy?" her words hit you like a slap, "And not just any guy, but one you've barely spent, what, nine hours with?" 
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as her words ring true; you have been wallowing over someone you hardly know, "So what if you slept with him? He's just a man, Y/N. Men are easily replaceable!" Allen shoots his girlfriend a sceptical glance, but she disregards him entirely.
You can't argue with her logic; you know how absurd it must sound to everyone else, "It's not just him, Rina," you murmur, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, "it's Minhee too."
"Minhee's always been protective of you, especially when it comes to your flings," Rina interjects, her tone softened slightly, "Allen, back me up on this." Her boyfriend hesitates for a moment before reluctantly nodding in agreement, "She has got a point, Y/N," he admits, shrugging apologetically.
Burying your head into your hands you groan loudly, almost verging on a scream, “You guys didn’t see him when he thought I only got a lift from him, he was all like ‘If you two are dating I’ll tear him limb from limb’ it was so scary,” you recount the scene from last week with Minhee, though judging by their reactions, you realize you're failing to convey just how serious he appeared, "He sees Sunghoon as his arch-nemesis! And I slept with him! And I want to do it again!"
“Y/N, babe, it is not that fucking serious he isn’t Batman and Sunghoon isn’t Penguin.” 
"Wait, isn't Batman's arch-rival the Joker?" Allen interjects, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Allen, really? Now's not the time for comic book trivia," Rina scolds, shaking her head. "But my point remains," she continues, sitting up and clasping your hands in hers, "I promise you, Minhee won't lose it just because you're involved with Sunghoon." You're at a loss for words, partly because she makes a valid point about Minhee's dramatic tendencies, and if Rina is calling you out for being dramatic, you know it must be true.
Allen walks over to you and sits on the floor beside your bed, placing a hand on your knee “I think the best thing for you, Y/N, is just to leave it. Don’t get involved between them, just-”
“Find someone else!” Rina shouts, pouncing up like a tiger ready to attack, “Baby, you’re a genius! Y/N, we need to find you some at the party tonight!” As quick as a flash, she’s in your wardrobe looking for an outfit, flinging stuff behind her to clear her view, “You need something so diabolically sexy it’ll have every man’s dick standing to attention.” Your best friend always had a way of describing things. 
Looking down at Allen you see his sorry expression but you don’t mind, Rina has always been like this since you were little, always full of life and vibrant. She has been your best friend since she asked you to eat a worm in primary 2 to enter her secret club, one eaten worm, and a trip to the medical room because you vomited said worm right back up later, you were inseparable. You weren’t a quiet person but with her around you might as well have been a mouse next to a lion, and you loved her for it.
"What party?" you inquire, looking at the chaos in your room that you'll inevitably have to clean up later. "I haven't heard of any parties happening on campus tonight." Being Rina's best friend definitely had its perks, as her popularity ensured invitations to every cliche social event.
"There's a party on the other side of town at Yeonjun's house, and all the hottest hockey players are going to be there," Rina announces with excitement, twirling around as she brandishes an ivory white cami dress with ruffled detailing on the straps and bust. How did she even find that? The last time you wore it was three years ago to your brother's 17th birthday party.
"Rina, I wore that when I was 16. It's not going to fit anymore. Bodies change, you know, and thankfully, my boobs have gotten bigger since then," you protest, trying to reason with her.
Blowing out air, Rina throws it at you with force whacking you in the face with it, “Squeeze into it. We’re going and you’re wearing that with those nice black Naked Wolfe dupes you got from Pretty Little Thing.” With no room to argue you fold it up in your arms.
“Since when did we go to Choi's parties? Didn’t he reject you and you swore to never to even breathe the same air again?” Rina had the biggest crush on Yeonjun but when she asked him to take her on a date he flat out said no and with zero explanation. Rina doesn’t take no for an answer so when it was a brutal rejection like that, she was on the warpath to make him regret it, it got so bad you had to physically stop her from signing him up to the Army.
Still rifling through your closet, Rina finds the boots and a matching leather jacket. "Yeah, well, I've matured," she quips with a mischievous grin.
“She’s going to use me to make it clear that she’s over him, which is right isn’t it babe, you’re over him.” Bless Allen, Rina did truly love him and there wasn’t a more perfect fit for her, but even he knew she couldn’t let a grudge go. Nodding her head she agrees, shining a wide grin to her very understanding and loving boyfriend. 
One day you’ll find someone like Allen.
Rina gives you a time limit of 2 hours to get ready as she runs home with Allen to get changed herself. Parties are great, they’re fun and you can forget everything for a night, get drunk, and make terrible decisions to mask the ones you’ve already made. You haven’t been to any parties other side of town so this is the one time to undoubtedly let loose and embarrass yourself. It was in Sunghoon’s territory though, but he never goes to parties so you’re safe from the awkwardness of bumping into him.
Right on time, Rina and Allen are outside in a Lyft, the driver honking you down. You do one last check of your hair and makeup which you did to match the weird Bride of Chucky aesthetic Rina has set out, it’s not anything amazing, just some eyeliner and straight hair but you do look good. 
“You can do this Y/N.” Whispering encouragement to yourself before you run downstairs. Minhee was out with friends and your mum was off galovanting somewhere, so you didn’t have to worry about them asking why you’re suddenly fit as a fiddle. 
Tonight you have one job - to forget about Sunghoon and let your mind be free of any thoughts. 
____
Arriving at the party, it’s already kind of busy, enough people that you have to weave your way through the hallway and into the living area which has now become overrun with loud Uni students. Everyone dresses up so nicely in this part of the city, it’s like you walked straight into Paris with how glamorous everyone looks. It makes you feel a little inferior but that can change with a few double vodkas and too many tequila roses. 
Yeonjun's shared house is a bit chaotic but undeniably spacious, which means it takes you a bit of time to locate the booze amidst the clutter. The occupiers of the house, all members of the Albion Hockey Team, are part of the reason Sunghoon ended up skating at Belmore, and by extension, part of the reason you're now on a mission to drink their place dry. 
As you step into the kitchen to pour yourself something, Rina beats you to it, already lining up some plastic neon shot glasses. 
Looking around, you see a few potential boys you could harmlessly flirt with, none of them as pretty as Sunghoon, but no one could ever be, you haven’t seen anyone as ethereal as him since you were a little 7-year-old girl. 
But tonight isn’t about him, well it is, but it’s about forgetting how perfectly his hair falls on his face, or how his eyebrows are so gorgeously thick and dark, and those freckles that are scattered on his face in all the right places are just perfect to kiss, and how his cock was the only one that made you feel satisfied, and ho-
“See anyone you like?” Rina’s voice thankfully rips you from your thoughts, pushing a shot into one of your hands and a pint glass of something in the other. Hurriedly, you down your shot and chase it with what now you know is a quadruple vodka and orange Breezer; the measurements Rina poured were always lethal like Majorca party strip-type measurements. Allen is close behind her, clinging to her just like she loves her men to do, but he is looking around with you, assessing from a man’s perspective.
Pointing sneakily to one guy with puppy dog eyes, you say to Rina, “He looks good and dependable, and his lips are nice.”
“Y/N, who the fuck cares about ‘dependable’ you are looking for someone to fuck the name Sunghoon out of your brain.” Rina declares bluntly, earning a pinch from Allen's warning grip as he shoots her a look, silently urging her to be more supportive in your time of need. "Okay, okay, how about we just get drunk and see who comes up to you? In that outfit, you'll have them lining up," she amends, holding her cup out for cheers. Allen nods in agreement, joining in the toast.
Not even an hour later, you’ve already misplaced your jacket and the dress you had to suck yourself into is hugging you tightly as your stomach bloats from how much alcohol you’ve consumed in a short amount of time. Despite your typically high tolerance, you find yourself more intoxicated than ever, swaying to the music blaring from various Alexas scattered throughout the house. The party has swelled in size, with unfamiliar faces outnumbering the familiar ones. Yet, you can't shake the feeling of being watched, though you can't pinpoint the source.
With a cup in your hand, you stretch up and move your hips to the music but it isn’t on time, you might as well be playing one of those ‘Guess who isn’t listening to the same music’ games, but you don’t care.
A hand runs itself down your back, stopping just above your ass but you don’t stop dancing. The mystery body starts to move along with you, his groyne making its way to your backside and pressing it in so you unconsciously grind on it. You’re so far gone you don’t register it until his breath is on your neck. Turning around, you meet a set of prowling eyes that instils uneasiness. 
‘This is your chance to forget about Sunghoon though’ you argue with yourself. It’s not the right call and you know it but if you disregarded the weird feeling you got from him, he was genuinely handsome, tall and burley, clearly on the hockey team, and if romance books taught you anything it’s that hockey players could fuck really good.
“Hey," he smirks, his arms encircling you as his hands find their way to your rear, giving it a firm squeeze, "You look too sexy to be on your own. Who did you come with? A boyfriend?" His question seems calculated, an attempt to gauge your receptiveness, though you doubt the presence of a boyfriend would deter him in the slightest.
“I came with friends,” You try your best to play along. Rina was right, all you have to do is have a good fuck and you’ll forget about Sunghoon, not feel guilty about lying to Minhee, and everything should sort itself out…right?
Clearly, your answer pleased him because the lack of mention of a boyfriend had him giving your butt a harsh squeeze, “Why don’t you dance with me then, since they’ve ditched you.” He was a sleaze, that much was obvious but it was just a fuck at the end of the day, a one-night thing to prove that any man can give you what Sunghoon can. 
So you throw caution to the wind and dance with him, trying to enjoy the way his hands are groping all over your body. He doesn’t get girls outside of parties because no man who knows how to feel a woman would be grabbing like this but those tequila roses are doing a great job at helping you not give a flying fuck right now. 
Rina spots you when she comes hand in hand with Allen into the makeshift dance area and looks a little worried but you wave her off, signalling to her that you’re fine. Accepting your dismissal, she grabs Allen and takes him somewhere low-key. 
<*>
Roughly 20 minutes later, the boy before you leans down, his lips on your ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” His breath blowing into your ear makes you cringe but nod and follow him as he practically drags you up the carpeted staircase and into the first empty room he finds. It doesn’t take long before his body pins you to the wall, his hands sliding up your 2 sizes too small dress already trying to get your underwear off. He wasn’t kind, or gentle, it was rough and barbarian. 
Once he rids you of your pants, leaving them pooled around your ankles, he slides his finger up to your entrance, not even waiting before plunging into you mercilessly, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, and not in a good way. Was this such a good idea? This isn’t what you imagined.
As he continues his attack on your hole you realise you aren’t getting any pleasure from this at all, in fact, it’s making you miss Sunghoon more. He was so attentive and caring about making you feel good and this guy is just fingering you to make sure his cock will fit. He didn’t need to bother opening you up if the imprint of him you felt when dancing was anything to go by. 
The guy isn’t even kissing you, just staring at the wall behind him trying to make this quick. You need to stop this, you don’t feel good being here with him, “Uhm, I think my friends are shouting for me.” It was a pathetic excuse but hopefully, he would get the message and get off of you. 
"I didn't hear anything," he dismisses, adding a second finger and increasing the pressure, causing discomfort akin to a carpet burn. His indifference only adds to your unease, and when you hear him unzipping his trousers, panic sets in.
You have mere seconds to escape this horrifying scenario. Your mind races through options, but it's clear asking him nicely won't work. With a surge of desperation, you attempt to push him away, pleading, "Really, I should go."
"Don't be a fucking tease. I put in the work," he growls, moving his weight to crush you even tighter against the wall, making escape impossible. Regret floods your mind as you realise you should have trusted your instincts about him. You should have listened to your gut, you knew he was horrible and yet you didn’t listen. A woman’s instinct is always right so why did you betray yours now?
The gears are turning in your head. Think. Your teary eyes widen and you gasp inward, doing all you can do in the situation - kick him in the balls. In a split second, you act on impulse and deliver a stinging knee to his exposed groyne. The contact sends him flying to the ground in agony. 
Seizing the opportunity, you hastily adjust your underwear and flee the room, your heart racing with adrenaline and revulsion at what nearly happened. 
<*>
Feeling icky and in desperate need to go home, you look for two things, Rina and your jacket; if you find your jacket first, you can phone Rina and get the fuck out of here. 
Roaming around the house you see the familiar leather jacket hanging on the back of a dining room chair, all your belongings still there, thank the heavens. Unlocking your phone you dial Rina’s number but she doesn’t answer, she’s nowhere to be found in this massive place because she’s probably sucking off Allen somewhere. Shit. 
As you frantically flip through your contacts, your thumb hesitates over Minhee's name. If you called him, you would never hear the end of it and it wouldn’t just be Sunghoon he would forbid you from seeing but literally any of the outside world that wasn’t school or the rink. But desperate times call for desperate measures so you scurry outside into the cold, trying to sober up a little before phoning him to pick you up. 
But there's no answer from Minhee. He's probably out celebrating Jungmo's birthday with his friends, too intoxicated to even consider coming to your aid. Why did you even entertain the thought? Now he'll worry because he missed your call, you realise with a pang of guilt. 
Crafting a flimsy excuse in a text message, you attempt to play it off as a casual check-in, hoping to alleviate any concern he might have.
A bolt of panic jolts through your back as you hear the guy from earlier’s voice bellowing down the stairs, calling you every name under the sun. If he found you, you don’t know what he would do, so you hide behind a group of people in the front garden, trying to blend in. Shakily, you scroll through your apps trying to find any taxi service that would come ASAP, but of course, everyone and their gran is trying to get home so as you try to book a ride the max wait time is 40 minutes.
Crumbling to the ground you sob, you just want to get away from here, you want Rina or Allen to come to find you, you want to feel safe again. You want Sunghoon.
Sunghoon. He lives on this side of town. Could you have the gall to ask him to come rescue you after you basically left him in the dust? You stand up, fixing your hair and dress, and wiping your tears away as if he can see you and hit call, “This is a bad idea, Y/N. He won’t eve-”
“Hello?” He picked up within 2 rings, not even long enough to finish your inner monologue. 
Hearing his voice come through the phone makes your heart skip, you haven’t heard or seen him in a week but you would think it was years the way you choke up, “Y/N, It’s late. What do you want?”
“S-sorry I-,” You can’t get the sentence out before bawling to him on the phone, all the tears you’ve held in now overflowing tenfold. All the pent-up anguish and fear pour out, overwhelming you as you cling to the lifeline of Sunghoon's voice on the other end of the line. How can you possibly explain this to him? Even in your sober state, you doubt you could articulate the events of the evening - the desperation to forget him, the reckless decisions made in the name of distraction, the groping, it all sounds so foolish and shameful.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His voice is flooded with concern and you hear him shuffle on the other end, “Sweets, please?” he drags out the please, begging you to cooperate with him. What you don’t know is he’s putting on trousers as you cry, ready to come get you before you even have the chance to ask him, “Are you out? Is that music?”
“I’m at Yeonjun’s party.” He tenses, feeling even more worried for you than before. He knows what that crew is like and if you, a well-assured girl who can most definitely handle herself is crying, that means something bad has happened, "I'm sorry, Hoonie. I shouldn't have called. It's just... the taxis are all too far away, and I can't find Rina, and I just really need to go home," you confess in a rush, the words tumbling out in a jumble of desperation and regret.
"I'm coming to get you. Stay there, and don't talk to anyone," Sunghoon commands, his voice firm with determination. Both of you feel the same palpitations of fear and concern, the only remedy being Sunghoon's swift arrival by your side. With a swift motion, he throws on his black hoodie and bolts out the door of his flat, ignoring his flatmate's bewildered inquiries. There's no time to waste - he needs to reach you as quickly as possible.
Sitting beside a couple making out, you lift your knees and cross your arms, tucking your face into the space you’ve created. How could you be so stupid? You’ve just created a bigger mess than this had to be. 
Why couldn't you have just followed Allen's advice and left it alone? No grand plan to get over Sunghoon, just accepting the choice you made and moving on. Sure, you'd be miserable, but at least you wouldn't be freezing outside a house party in an unfamiliar side of town, surrounded by strangers. The laughter of partygoers echoes around you as you cry, feeling utterly exposed and humiliated. Every approaching figure sends a shiver of fear down your spine in case it’s him, causing you to recoil further into yourself.
Your mind is doing that thing that all women do in these situations and blaming yourself for what happened, it’s tricking you into thinking you asked for it because you followed him, but you didn’t know it was going to be like that, so degrading.  You feel so weak, like a damsel in distress, this wasn’t you. Maybe you should have just walked home and dealt with it on your own.
There’s an engine in the distance and you pray to anyone that it’s Sunghoon. Headlights shine through the street and the car comes to a halt, tyres screeching as it emergency brakes. Looking up you see the 6-foot-tall boy you’ve been dying to see since last Thursday. Instantly, your body relaxes knowing you’re almost safe. 
Sunghoon slams the door shut and charges up to the door, he almost walks into the party but you squeak out his name loud enough he notices you, “Y/N.” The way he says your name is like he’s both relieved and desolate.
Dropping down to his knees, Sunghoon pulls you closer, his touch gentle as he softly rubs your arms to keep you warm. It's clear from your dishevelled state that you're as drunk as a skunk.
He asks what happened, concern etched into every line of his face, but you can't find the strength to articulate it. Instead, you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks unabated.
The vulnerability in your body language speaks volumes, but Sunghoon needs to know the specifics, "Please, tell me," he implores, his voice tinged with urgency and worry.
"This guy," you begin, wiping away tears as you struggle to compose yourself, "I was dancing, and he said we should go upstairs, so I did, and he..." A sob interrupts your explanation, tearing through your chest and escaping into the night air. You instinctively cover your mouth, as if trying to contain the anguish within.
After a few moments, you regain some semblance of composure and continue your slurred account. "He was touching me, which was fine at first, and then I didn't want him to anymore, and he..." The words catch in your throat, rendering you unable to finish the sentence.
Sunghoon's jaw clenches with restrained anger as he pieces it together, "Did he..." His voice trails off, the unspoken question hanging heavily between you. He doesn’t want to ask in fear of what your answer will be.
"No, I got out of there before he could," you assure him, relief evident in your voice.
Sunghoon's head falls onto your knees, relief washing over him knowing you escaped further harm, but anger simmers just beneath the surface. He wanted to commit every crime against this pervert because how dare he think he had any right to do that?
Sunghoon lifts his head back up, his eyes meeting yours and it breaks you a little because you basically just confessed to nearly fucking another man.
"You did so good, Sweets, getting away and calling me. So fucking good," he praises, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace, offering whatever comfort he can summon. He knows that a mere hug won't erase the turmoil raging within you, but it's a start, "I'm so proud of you," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded soul, eliciting even more tears from you as you allow yourself to be held tightly.
The smell of him and the softness of his hoodie was all the feeling you needed earlier, that safety you begged for. Sunghoon strokes your back, laying a few kisses atop your head between intervals of his whispered reassuring words. 
Leaning back to look at you, he takes his right thumb and wipes your tears away, “Let me get you out of here.” He wanted to ransack the party for the bastard that made you cry like this, but he fights himself against it, choosing to focus on you and your needs rather than his want to kick fuck out of that guy.
“Stand up for me, Sweets.” He holds you steady while you find your footing on the grass. Once he knows you’re okay and not going to drunkenly collapse back down, he fastens up your leather jacket and wraps an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the safety of his car. 
Just as he has calmed you down and you’re halfway down the front path, a venomous voice invades your ears and you tense under Sunghoon’s touch, giving him every indication of who it could be.
“There you are, gorgeous. Sorry, lad, this one’s taken.” He goes to grab you but Sunghoon blocks him and pushes him back, holding himself back from battering his lights out. 
In shock, the guy glances at Sunghoon, his expression morphing into a mixture of disbelief and indignation. "Nah, this fucking cock tease owes me," he retorts, his tone dripping with contempt.
A heavy silence descends upon the scene as a crowd begins to emerge from the party, their murmurs mixing with the tension in the air. You catch snippets of conversation, people questioning Sunghoon's presence at a Choi party, knowing full well the history between him and Yeonjun.
Sunghoon and Yeonjun have had beef since they were in 3rd Year of High School after the ice skater found out Yeonjun snuck weed into his bag for a ‘joke’ and it consequently got him suspended from Skating until he proved himself through drug tests. It's a deep-seated grudge that neither of them has forgotten. Since then, he hasn’t stepped foot near Yeonjun or any of his friends.
Sunghoon steps up to the guy, staring him down. Your perpetrator might be built but Sunghoon is tall and way more intimidating, everyone can see that, “Say that again.” "Say that again," Sunghoon challenges, his voice laced with a quiet intensity, silently daring the guy to escalate the situation further. It's a dangerous game, and Sunghoon is teetering on the edge, desperate for an excuse to unleash his pent-up fury upon the guy who dared to harm you.
“That bitch is a fu-” 
The garden erupts into chaos as Sunghoon's fist connects with the boy's face, the impact echoing through the air like a gunshot. The crowd gasps in shock, some scrambling to film the fight while others recoil in horror. With each blow, Sunghoon's rage intensifies, his fists raining down on his target with unrelenting force. There is no thought in his mind, only a primal instinct to protect you at all costs.
Blood gushes from the boy's nose and mouth, staining the grass crimson as he struggles to breathe due to the onslaught. He splurts out blood but that doesn’t stop Sunghoon as he shows no mercy, his relentless assault fueled by a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sheer power behind his punches threatens to shatter bones, each strike delivering a punishing blow that leaves his opponent battered and broken. You swear you hear cracks coming from the boy’s nose and jaw.
Rina and Allen run out to the commotion and watch as you try to stop him, “Hoonie, stop!” You scream as you stand still, not daring to get in the middle of it out of fear of catching a hit. Your words don’t stop him though, only making him angrier because he can hear the bubble in your throat from your tears. The boy below starts to appeal with him to stop too, not sure how much more he can take. 
Pushing him forward, Rina signals for Allen to help but he’s also too scared to move, mimicking your ceased state but eventually she pushes him so hard he ends up in it anyway, grabbing Sunghoon by his hoodie to get him off. The helpful boy almost gets an elbow to the face but he swerves it.
“Don’t you dare fucking touch my girl again,” Sunghoon physically spits on him, pushing Allen off in the process. 
My girl.
The words make your heart pound, even more than it already is due to the booze. Right now you should be terrified because Sunghoon just displayed about 10 red flags, but why are you not scared at all? He got so angry he nearly punched a man to death and you still feel completely safe even just being around him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’ll protect you so willingly.
Sunghoon shakes the blood from his hand, wiping some of it on his sweatpants before he finally faces you again, “Y/N…” He’s filled with anxiety that you’re petrified of him, of this protective side that even he didn’t know he possessed, “I-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you pull him into a hug, your face nuzzling into his heaving chest. A mixture of missing him and feeling grateful for his act causes you to squeeze him so tight he can’t breathe.
Sunghoon hesitates for a moment before returning the embrace, holding you close, his heart pounding against yours in rhythm. Despite everything, in this moment, you find comfort in each other's arms, a silent understanding passing between you that transcends words.
He places a side kiss on your temple and looks at you, “I’ll take you to mine.” 
“No, you won’t, are you crazy?” Rina’s voice pierces through the tense atmosphere, making you stumble back, but Sunghoon is there to catch you, his protective grip reassuring, “I am not letting my best friend go home with a psychopath.”
He scoffs, facing her with a hard expression and one arm still holding onto you, “Best friend? You mean the best friend you couldn’t even be bothered to stick with because you were fucking your shrimp of a boyfriend?” 
Pinching him, you shake your head, you don’t want him to start bad-mouthing your friends just because he’s angry, it’s not their fault. He whispers a ‘sorry’, his bloody hand stroking the last of your tears away before he turns back to Rina, tone firm, “I am taking her home and you are going to cover for her if her family asks where she is in the morning, got it?” Without waiting for their response, he guides you towards his car, planting another kiss on your head before opening the door for you.
As he shuts the door behind you, he glances back at the scene he left behind with a small smirk, feeling a sense of vindication from getting a few hits against one of Yeonjun's lackeys. He gets in the driver's seat, putting the heating on and starting the car.
“I’m sorry, Sunghoon.” You mumble, appreciating the heat that's blowing your way as you start to get sleepy from all the adrenaline leaving you. He buckles your seatbelt for you, untwisting it for your comfort.
“Why are you apologising?” His tone is firm yet gentle, and you can sense the protectiveness in his words.
“For phoning you, for getting you into that mess, it’s my fault,” you explain, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.
“Don’t,” Sunghoon interrupts, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, “Don’t apologise for any of this, none of this is your fault.”
Regaining some composure, he softly puts his hand on your thigh but you jump slightly, memories from the previous guy coming to the forefront of your brain. The reaction you have only fuels Sunghoon’s anger back up but before he gets back out of the car and finishes the job, he takes his hand off you and drives back to his place. Luckily he lives only 10 minutes away and with the roads being so quiet at this time, he blazes through it in 6 minutes. 
In that small amount of time, you pass out, snoring slightly, the noise making Sunghoon smile. You were so cute when you slept, so peaceful like you didn’t have one care in the world. He wanted that for you. Always. 
Pulling up to the street he parks his car half on the pavement and turns the ignition off, being careful to not wake you.
The biggest challenge he’ll face is getting you up the stairs to the front door but he manages to carry you bridal style up and into the house. His two flatmates Jay and Jake are perched on the couch the way he left them earlier. The look on their faces drops when they see blood and a passed-out girl, “Is she okay?” Jake asks.
Sunghoon hushes them and keeps walking, “She’s fine, Lee Heosun isn’t though.” Leaving it at that, he walks into his room with you and lays you down on his bed. Your dress looks tight and uncomfortable so he picks around his room for some clothes to change you into but all he has is a Metallica shirt and some boxers in his drawer, everything else either needs to be washed or is his skating gear. 
He lays the makeshift pyjamas on the bed before trying to take your dress off gently but you’re wriggling against him, unconsciously fighting him so you can keep sleeping, “Sweets we need to get you changed.” You grumble and shake your head, you’re incoherent but causing Sunghoon issues when you try to kick him away, seeking the deep release of sleep, “Work with me here, baby,” he exhales, finally getting the zip of your dress down. 
After that, it was easy enough to strip you naked and slip you into his t-shirt. He did try to get you to put on the boxers but you had enough by then, rolling over onto his bed and getting comfy, your ass is hanging out. Normally, Sunghoon would be thinking something crude but all he is thinking about is how someone else touched you. 
He promises to himself he won’t let that happen ever again.
“M’sorry, Hoonie.” you muffle into his pillow. 
Tucking you into bed he kisses your forehead lightly, “Stop apologising, Sweets and go to sleep for me.” 
Tapping your lips, you indicate you want a kiss, which makes Sunghoon hesitate. Eventually, he sighs, giving in to your request. “Just one, okay?” he concedes, leaning in to kiss you softly. The warmth of his lips against yours comforts you and him. He missed your lips the past week and he wouldn’t do without your kisses again. 
“He told me not to see you.” You say forcing him to stay close to you, stealing smooches as you talk.
“Who did?” Sunghoon asks, brows furrowing.
“Minhee.”
Ah, it all makes so much more sense to him now. It wasn’t just your brain turning over and over in your head; Minhee had actually warned you to stay away.
Sunghoon kisses you longingly once more before pulling the covers up to your chin,  sending you off to sleep. 
_____
There has to be one of those cymbal clapping monkeys in your head because as you groggily sit up, all you feel is a pounding and ringing sensation. The last time you had a hangover this bad was last year at your birthday party when Rina came back to the table with 10 skittle bombs and 5 sambucas. The night was fun but the morning after was most definitely not. 
It takes you some time to force your eyes open, expecting to see Rina’s room, but unless she heavily redecorated the complete opposite of her aesthetic in the past few weeks, it was safe to say you were not in Rina’s room. It’s strange because she always lets you crash at hers after a night out, it was an unspoken rule you both made so you could debrief the events of the night before and cringe every time you remembered some of the munters you kissed. 
You rub your tired eyes to try and get a better scope of your surroundings but nothing about this room is familiar. Glancing around the walls you see posters of some random anime and Red Velvet, shelves filled with pictures of, and some shelves with all types of cologne and figurines displayed. 
As you look down you see yourself dressed in only a t-shirt, no pants, no trousers - this cannot be good. Who did you speak with last night? If you were being honest, the whole night was a blur and the more you try to think the more your head hurt. The t-shirt smells familiar which is a good sign, as a matter of fact, the whole room smells familiar. It’s not overwhelmingly obvious but you could definitely place it. 
Getting out of the comfortable bed you start to nosy around the person’s belongings like you were on an episode of Come Dine With Me, looking for any clue as to who the owner is. 
The room is clean bar a few clothes and a gym bag that you have one-hundred percent seen before. Your best bet is to look at the photos splattered on the long mirror adjacent to the bed but when you look at it, the reflection of the wall behind you makes you spin around and observe. 
The wall is filled with floating shelves covered in trophies and medals, an astronomical amount of awards for one person, kind of like Minhee has. The ironic thing is, you think this tiny room might hold more trophies than your brother’s double room dedicated to them. 
Your steps slow as you approach a particularly large trophy, its gleaming surface catching the light. Your heart sinks as you read the nameplate, the realisation hitting you like a wave crashing against the shore.
No, no, no There is no way you are in his room..
Headache or not you need to start thinking about what ensued at that stupid party. 
You got there, Rina handed you a few drinks, you took a few shots, danced with a few people, but what else? You don’t even remember seeing Sunghoon there so how the fuck are you in his bedroom and presumably in his shirt, or better yet, in only his shirt. 
Cursing yourself was too polite a punishment because last night you made a promise to get over him by getting under someone and clearly that didn’t happen. 
Oh no. You think to yourself as you start to wonder if he was the one you got under and you don’t even remember it. You grudge yourself because sober you wanted nothing more than to have sex with him again and now drunk you might have gotten the opportunity and forgot every single bit of it. She was not your best friend at the moment. 
On the bright side, this was your chance to poke around his room and uncover any icks that could help you with your Sunghoon problem. You see a pair of boxers strewn on the floor and shove them on, trying to save yourself some dignity. 
The trophies were magnificent. You knew he was the best but to see all his accomplishments displayed so blatantly like this struck you with awe. The years ranged from 2011 to now which just showcased how long he has been dedicated to the sport. You understand he’s been doing it since he was a kid, you got the privilege to watch him, but you didn’t get to see all his competitions - not the ones Minhee didn’t compete in at least. 
Next to the last trophy is a picture of him, his dad, and his mum with what you assume is his first-ever award. He looked just how you remembered him, so cute and bright, the ice skating persona then was one far different than the ‘cocky’ one he has now. Back then he was branded as the nation's cutie pie and had every old woman trying to adopt him as their own, like how teenage girls adopt men in bands and claim them as their children. 
You mourned the kid he used to be, only imagining his situation was the same as your brothers - grew up too fast with too much pressure. 
Moving over to his desk you see his University books and a laptop with stickers he’s collected from random places. You don’t know a lot of them but see a few Sanrio stickers and smile, he is for sure Tuxedosam in human form. 
There’s not a lot scandalous about the rest of the room which busted your mission. You could look through his drawers but you have to draw the line before it gets creepy. 
There is, however, a bottle of water and some aspirin next to the bed which he must have left for you. Swallowing the physical pills, you now need to swallow the metaphorical ones and leave the room to face the boy you pied for a week.
A sick feeling bubbles in your tummy that could either be from the obscene amount of alcohol you drank or seeing him again. You did technically see him last night even if you don’t remember, but that makes the turning in your stomach worse because what did you do last night? Best case scenario? You didn’t embarrass yourself.
Hyping yourself up by shaking your shoulders, you open the door and head down the hall. By any miracle he won’t be there, you can put your shoes on and make a run for it. Sadly for you, when you see a broad back walking into the kitchen completely oblivious to your presence, you realise quickly you need to face this. Face Sunghoon.
“Hey,” Shooting around at the sound of your voice, Sunghoon’s eyes widen when he sees you like he wasn’t the one to carry you to bed and change you; it’s good to see you found the boxers he failed to fight on you last night.
“How are you feeling?” He doesn’t know how much you remember and he doesn’t know what to do if you don’t. How would he bring up anything that happened at the party without upsetting you all over again?
Sitting on a high stool at the island, you rest your head on one of your palms and close your eyes, “Fucking awful, my head has its own personal marching band,” you attempt to laugh at your analogy but it hurts too much, the strain on your head causes you to wince, “Did I, uh, did I call you last night?”
Shit, you don’t remember. Sunghoon physically stiffens because he doesn’t know what to say. You have every right to know what happened to you but then you might relive the memory and turn back into the girl from last night, and he never wanted you to feel like that again. 
As you stare at him expectantly, he doesn’t move, the only thing stopping him from looking like a 2D manga character is his shifting eyes that are looking everywhere but at you. 
The way Sunghoon is reacting is making you nervous. You must have fucked up big time if Park Sunghoon is speechless, “Sunghoon I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
His eyes widen, your choice of words ironic to your situation. If he can make you remember at your own free will then that has to be better than just springing it on you, right? “You didn’t do anything out of order, I promise. You called me to come pick you up,” he pauses looking down at the now suddenly interesting countertop, “Do you remember why you phoned me?”
You lift your head from your hand and shake your head, “No, not really. I remember drinking lots and then it kind of blacks out.” Your brain vessels are popping at the hard work you’re putting in to remember because by Sunghoon’s facial expression, you’re missing something massive, “I do remember dancing, and then sitting on the ground outside.” The memories fade in and out, only recalling locations.
He blows cold air and nods slowly, knowing he is going to have to tell you, “Y/N, do you remember a guy?” Seeing your eyes dart about like you’re trying to find the answer in the air tells Sunghoon you don’t remember, “He uh, he was dancing with you and asked you to go upstairs?” He is giving you tiny hints to help you cast your mind back which seems to be working enough.
“I went upstairs and,” all the images from last night flash quickly by, how you walked up the stairs, how he pinned you against the wall, his unappealing touches, how he-. That’s why Sunghoon looks so apprehensive to tell you flat out what happened, “Oh…yeah.” 
Suddenly, you feel like you’re back in your body from last night, that guy's fingers still on you and his breath sticking to your skin. It made you feel disgusting and your body didn’t fit right over your bones anymore. Your mouth fills with saliva and you grip the countertop, this only ever happens when you are going to be sick or have a panic attack, in this case, it could be both but for now, it’s only a nauseous reaction. Tears prick your eyes as you try to stop yourself from breaking down.
Rushing over, Sunghoon twists your seat to face him so he can envelope you in his arms, “Shh, you’re safe here.” And you believe him. You are safe as long as he is with you, his soft touches are a testament to that.
Sunghoon shuts his eyes, wishing he could take away all the pain and sorrow you’re feeling but he’s a useless bystander who can only watch you go through this. He knows words and affection only go so far and it would take you a while to come to terms with the ordeal, but he’s silently vowing to himself that he will be here for you. 
It’s strange how rapidly he became attached to you, like you were a bright light and he was a moth, too distracted by your beauty to think about the danger. 
Once you settled down a little, he pulled away to check your face for straggled tears and wiped them away, “I will never let anyone touch you again. Not like that.” 
With your memory piecing back together, you pull yourself away from him, grabbing his wrist and inspecting his hand. He had punched that guy so much that the scene before you looked like something out of a gory horror film. Sunghoon’s knuckles are cleaned but bruised and discoloured, the swollenness of his hand indicates a minor fracture. 
He wanted you to forget that part but he supposed you would see it eventually. It took him a long time to get the blood stain off, red tinges still visible if you looked hard enough. He has a pictorial for a sponsor in a few days that he’s either going to need his hand airbrushed over or cancel it completely. It didn’t matter the outcome, it was worth it. There will always be more ad deals in the future.
You bring his injured hand to your lips and kiss the knuckles softly which causes Sunghoon to suck in a breath and his throat to close over. Even when you were in dismay you still found time to look after him in the simplest of ways, ways he doesn’t know he needs until you’re already tending to him. 
“You need to wrap this up and put some ointment on it or it’ll scar. Where can I find some wrap and Savlon?” You stand up, not taking your eyes off his battered hand.
“I’ll get them, they’re in the toilet I think.” He strolls to the bathroom and finds some old bandages and Geromlene that should do the job just fine. When he walks back into the kitchen you have a cup of water and a piece of kitchen towel, “Here.” He hands you what you need.
Pushing him onto the stool you once occupied, you put his hand on the worktop to clean it, “You know, you shouldn’t have done that.” 
He knows the implications of his actions, especially with people recording. If it got to the board he could be removed from competing at Nationals and stripped of his titles, “I guess, but it was worth it.” The boy wants to say that you’re worth it but he doesn’t, scared you’ll pull away again, “I got some revenge from it too.”
The damage to his hand isn’t as bad as you thought but as it tremors slightly, you know some nerve damage has been done. Slathering it in Germolene stings him but he doesn’t let you know it hurts him, he just grits and bares it, letting you continue. Wrapping the bandage around the wound, you collect your thoughts, “What do you mean revenge?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day,” he shrugs but his words set a sadness in your chest because when would he get to tell you this mysterious problem he has with your aggressor? Sunghoon is saying it like he has a lifetime to tell you all these stories but you shouldn’t even be speaking to him now.
“I am truly sorry, Hoonie,” He tries to talk but you interject, “Not just about last night but for shutting you down like that.” Pursing his lips, his eyes are trained on the bandage, “I just can’t be with you.”
You finish up and kiss his hand again. It’s not difficult to fix someone's physical wounds, there are all sorts of treatments and medications for them, it’s the emotional nicks and cuts you have a hard time patching up. You didn’t really think it would affect him but that’s a lot easier to manipulate yourself into thinking when the boy isn’t in front of you with his face contorted, looking like an injured puppy. 
“Minhee doesn’t own you, y’know. You can see whoever you want.” He retorts, hoping you find some reason in his words. Confused, you scrunch your eyebrows as he explains, “You said last night Minhee forbid you from seeing me.”
Ah, drunken you really stuck her foot in it, “I know he doesn’t own me, but you should have seen his face. I’ve never seen him so angry.”
“How did he find out about us?” he asks. Sunghoon says ‘us’ so casually, like you’ve been an ‘us’ forever. He finds it so natural to talk about you as part of him. When he told Jay and Jake about your impromptu date the night of the Zamboni he kept speaking for both of you, how ‘we’ had a great time and ‘we’ just got one another. 
“You drove your car up to my front door. The next morning he was all like ‘If you date him Y/N, I’ll kill him’ or something like that.” Your impression of Minhee makes Sunghoon laugh because you nail it perfectly - the scowl, the hard-lined eyes, you must have seen that face so much to perfect it.
Standing up, Sunghoon takes the medical stuff back to the bathroom where he found it, giving himself time to think of ways he can change your mind, find a loophole, anything that allows him to be around you. It’s selfish to want you with him knowing what it does to your brain but if he can somehow convince you, he’ll do anything.
Walking back to you, he sees your figure perched on the stool and there’s a lightbulb moment that goes off in his head, “Did he say date?” 
You spin around at his question, unsure of what he is getting at, “What? Yeah, he said ‘date and stuff’ I think.” 
“Then let’s not date.” 
Slouching, you agree, nodding your head and trying not to look too upset. The notion of not dating him seems to nip your feelings more than you thought.
Seeing your saddened expression, Sunghoon quickly recovers, “No, let’s-” he pauses for a moment, trying to find a nice way to say it, “Let’s keep it casual, keep it strictly hooking up.”
You bring your eyes to meet his pleading ones but you don’t understand the whole situation. When you called it off, he walked away so easily you thought he didn’t care but in front of you now, he seems the exact opposite, “You didn’t seem bothered about me stopping whatever this is between us at the rink,” as you point your finger between you both, Sunghoon can only let out a ‘huh?’ and lean on the island, “You said ‘suit yourself’, like, that would indicate you couldn’t care less.”
Honestly, Sunghoon just didn’t know how to respond at the moment. He wanted to say more but what could he have said?
That was also the reason for his dry response, he decided that it might be best to let you walk away, for your own sake, “It’s not like that, Sweets. I didn’t mean to be like that, I just…I don’t know.” He couldn’t articulate his thoughts at the moment, brain preoccupied with how to keep you here, “Look, you can say no but if you’re the same as me, you know you want this.”
“It won’t ever just be a hooking-up situation though and you know it.” You had to call it what it is. The way you both feel, even in your week apart, was enough to know this would never work. Someone’s feelings, probably you both, would grow so immense that it would never stay casual. 
“We make a deal, a promise, swear it on your brother's name that we won’t get attached. You’re too loyal to betray him and I can keep myself in check.” Sunghoon is highly aware of how desperate he sounds right now but he doesn’t mind. 
“But I would already be betraying him by even considering having sex with you again.” You’re crestfallen as you speak, gazing down and playing with your fingers.
Sunghoon has the opposite reaction however, his face has a slight smile while he brings his hands to your shoulders, gaining your full attention, “But he said you can’t date me, not that you can’t fuck me.”
“I think it was implied, Hoon.”
“But not explicitly stated.” If Sunghoon wasn’t in university for sports physiotherapy, he could be studying to be a lawyer, at least that’s what he thinks, “C’mon, Sweets, I might go mad if I don’t get to touch you again.” 
The cogs turn in your head because he does have a point, it’s the perfect, guilt-free loophole. You wouldn’t be dating him but still get to see him, it’s a win-win on paper, “What if my brother finds out?” 
His big hands tuck your hair back behind your ears and stay pressed on your cheeks, “Believe it or not, Y/N, I don’t tend to air my sex life to the town.” Sunghoon breathes out a laugh, his thumbs swiping back and forth on your face, helping your uneasiness but also removing some of the smudged makeup from yesterday, “We’ll keep it a secret, yeah?”
“You could have any girl, Hoon, one you don’t have to sneak around with,” you want to give him one last chance out of this.
Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “To be perfectly honest, Y/N, I don’t want just anyone else, I want you.” You need to tell your heart to calm down so you close your eyes to find some semblance of equanimity. He nudges his nose with yours and smiles, knowing the effect he has on you, “So, what do you say?”
There is a beat of a pause before you say softly, “Yes.” It was a risk. You would have to be careful but if you wanted to stop at any point you could, because it was just casual, nothing more - Minhee would never know. 
The brightest smile graces Sunghoon’s face, his eyes shrinking in size and canines on full display, “Yeah?” It’s like he doesn’t believe it even though he’s heard it. For a moment he thought you were going to tell him no, that there was no ambiguity to be found in Minhee’s words, “Can I kiss you then?” he asks, his voice tinged with hopeful anticipation.
You meet his gaze, offering a nonchalant shrug that belies the flutter of excitement in your chest. "I suppose so," you reply, your tone teasing yet inviting. 
He leans in slowly, testing to see if you actually meant it. Meeting him halfway, your lips meld together seamlessly, igniting a spark of longing that fuels the kiss. Sunghoon's smile against your mouth speaks volumes, conveying his joy and gratitude. Sunghoon can’t ever stop kissing you, not unless you need air.
With his hands gently gripping your waist, he feels you push yourself onto him. Sunghoon’s lips are all over yours practically eating your face off because he can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you in 8 days. He missed your taste and how easy it was to get lost in your mouth. Both of you are so desperate for one another that you don’t even come up for breath, the kiss all too consuming. 
You yelp when he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot and throwing you both on the bed and as you shuffle up the bed, Sunghoon crawls with you, his mouth chasing yours eagerly. 
There’s electricity in the air and it sparks pure lust into his body, his dick throbbing at the thought of being with you again. This time he’s going to do it right and take his time with you, ensuring you feel sufficiently fucked out when he’s done. When he was taking you in the front seat of his car, it was good, actually, it was beyond perfect but it was over too soon, he had so much more to show you.
His mouth moves at a new unhurried pace, his tongue running painstakingly slow over yours, so slow he could feel all your tastebuds. Sunghoon’s promise to himself was to devour you so much you are all he can taste for the next few days, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to sneak you away. This deal he has with you isn’t ideal, he wants to call you his and never let go, not just be a fuck buddy. He did call you his last night in the heat of the moment and it felt so good to say it. 
Your hands slide under his white t-shirt and scrape his sides lightly, making the man shiver. It’s not only his waist you’re touching like this but you’re soon roaming all over his body. Your hands have a mind of their own as they glide every inch of his soft, warm skin, and the caresses you are receiving are equally as adoring. Not like that guy.
Why did you think about it now? Just when you had distracted yourself enough.
Noticing the change in you, Sunghoon pauses his kisses and opens his eyes, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You nod but it’s unconvincing, making him halt, “Talk to me, Sweets.” 
Unfortunately, he’s seen that look on your face before and he knows what you’re thinking about. 
How could he be so stupid? It didn’t even register to him you might not be ready to jump into bed considering what happened not 24 hours ago, hell, not even 12 hours ago.
“Hoonie?” Your voice is wispy as you run a hand through his dark locks, “Make me forget about it? Replace his touches with yours?” It was a simple request but it held so much weight. Sunghoon was the only one you wanted to feel on your body from now on.
“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to think you have to. I can wait for as long as you need.” 
Sunghoon’s facial features are drawn with concern as he waits for you to truly think about this, to analyse whether you’re making this decision with a clear mind.
Shaking your head, you decline his kind act, “I want you to fuck me. Like really fuck me,” your eyes never come off of his to make certain he knows you’re serious, “I’m okay and I want this. I want you so bad.”
A smirk plasters itself onto Sunghoon’s face, “You’re going to kill me, y’know.” He presses his body on yours so you feel most of his weight on your core, his cock hardening as he softly grinds it onto your clothed heat, “As long as you’re sure?”
You nod, getting a little impatient but you’re appreciative of his concern.
He doesn’t say anything but goes back to kissing you even more intensely than before, his fingertips rubbing themself all over your body just as you requested. Sunghoon will do anything in his power to make you feel better. If this is what you wanted, this is what you’d get. 
Sunghoon’s right hand trails down your stomach, shaking a little from sheer joy. He dips into the band of the boxers you’re wearing and slides his fingers perfectly between your folds, “How many times do you think I can make you cum this time, hmm?” The pad of his pointer circles your clit “Maybe once?” His husky voice flows into your ear as he speaks, “Could be twice, or three times, I know you’re more than capable.” You wriggle under him when his middle and ring fingers join the party and tap your entrance, “4 times? Could my Sweets cum 4 times for me?”
He has the audacity to be asking you these questions when all you can do is writhe in anticipation and want. If he keeps rubbing your clit and poking at your hole like this you might have the first orgasm in record time, but you don’t want to give him all the satisfaction, so you hold back. 
Biting at your neck, he feels your heartbeat picking up speed to mirror with his thumb, “You could cum right now, couldn’t you? Why don’t you?” Sunghoon can feel your resistance and he knows you’re hating how much control he has over you. You’re an independent girl and he knows that means you’re not used to being in this position, with someone playing you like this. When you rode him in his car, you wanted to be in full control but he didn’t let that happen.
Moving his face to yours, he sees your eyes shut and mouth open, a clear invitation for him to stick his tongue down your throat. You moan at the sensations happening to your body all at once and the cocky boy on top of you smiles, his tongue licking over yours, “Let go, Sweets. I won’t deny you anything unless you want me to.” 
If there is one thing you hate in this world it’s being edged. You’re aware that some people love it, that it heightens the climax when you finally get to cum but you can’t think of anything worse. Why withstand the inevitable when you can have multiple bouts of pleasure? So maybe you should just let him see how many times he could get you off, it would be beneficial for you, who cares if his ego inflates, you could get him back another time. 
You smile at the thought of having another time with him.
Once you make the decision to loosen up and let Sunghoon do his thing, he knows he’s won the tiny battle of dominance, “Good girl.” Here comes that praise kink you’ve discovered because, with his words, you’re purring into his mouth and levitating your hips to get more connection from his fingers. You don’t have to ask him anything, he already knows what you need, he can feel the wetness on his fingers that’s leaking from your pussy.
His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing you, and it continues with the same vigour as he slips his two fingers into you, stretching you open. Assessing your face for any discomfort, he doesn’t discover any, only bliss etched on your features. If he could, he would do this for a full-time job and work overtime just to see you like this all of the time. 
Sunghoon starts to thrust his fingers into you at a steady pace, one finger ridged, applying pressure, and the other loose so he can hit every spot inside you. He wasn’t an expert on fingering women but with the response of your pussy contracting, he knows he’s giving you what you need. While his fingers pleasure you, he works off the boxers you’re wearing which is easier said than done considering he’s only got one hand to pull them down with. It’s not like him to give up on anything though and before you know it, he’s whipped them off your legs, all the while never letting up on his pace. 
He needs to add multitasking to his resume. 
Sitting on his knees and finding a new angle, he adds a third finger, stretching you to the brink. He looks at you from where he sits and takes in the view; your legs spread, shoulders pushing themselves into his sheets while your back lifts - it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever witnessed. And here he was thinking you bouncing on his cock was top of his list.
You bite back a moan, covering your mouth with your forearm, “Nu-uh, Sweets. I wanna hear you,” he leans forward and cages beneath him as he pins your arm away from your face, “Let me hear how good you feel.”
You aren’t necessarily loud in bed, but you’ve never had the need to be moaning and groaning like a pornstar. That was until now, so with his go-ahead, you become more vocal, signalling when he was making you feel stars in your pussy. “Fuck, I-”
“Cum on my fingers, baby, give it to me,” he rubs your clit harder, coaxing out your first of many orgasms of the night. 
Not wasting a single drop, he dips down so his face is at your core and laps up the juices, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You taste so perfect, the tang of your pussy is what he has been craving and he wasn’t satisfied until he had it filling his mouth.
He eats you out, his fingers that were once inside you now assisting his mouth by spreading your folds open. Your legs flail while he drinks you up, consuming your pussy like it was the last bit of water and he was a traveller in the Sahara Dessert.
You finally plant your feet on the bed, resisting the urge to close your thighs in case you suffocate him, but Sunghoon being Sunghoon, notices, “Don’t be scared to crush my head, I like it.” 
He loves it actually, the feeling of being confined by fluffy thighs, the 'no way out’ feeling gives him more incentive to get his partner to cum quicker. It might be masochistic the way he loves fighting for breath but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Oh my fuck,” Your legs grant his wishes and trap him. He is way too good at this like he does it as an obsessive hobby. All caution is thrown to the wind and mewl out his name loudly, tugging his hair with your hands. 
Sunghoon feels his cock throb at how you cry out his name so achingly, he needs to have you around him soon, so he focuses on your clit, nipping at it skillfully to bring you over the edge. It only takes a minute or two before your pussy is contracting as you cum over his face. Your nectar coats his mouth and he wonders how he can add your cum as part of his skincare routine because he wants to be lathered in it morning and night. 
Your legs shake intensely as you feel the orgasm claim you. Your body has gone limp, legs falling open to each side. Swiftly, his hands are on your ass, pushing your vagina up to his face so he can tuck into you, taking full control. Sunghoon is holding your whole bottom half up and it’s helping him slurp you, his tongue dipping into your hole to lap any of the leftover cum he could have missed and his perfect nose rubbing against your delicate clit.
“Sunghoon, please, I can’t do another one so quickly.” Sunghoon doesn’t hear you though, too focused on his meal. He’s using his hold on you to manually grind your pussy on his face which is sending you into overdrive. He buries in your cunt as deep as humanly possible, moaning into you. 
The vibrations from his moan are too much for you, “Hoonie, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.” His ego is the size of Buckingham Palace the way he made you take back your words. He knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t cum again that fast. You need to start giving yourself more credit.
For the third time today, you cum hard moaning his name, this time you're really gripping at his hair, almost thrashing around at the intensity of it. Those porn videos you see scrolling through Twitter might not be as over the top as you thought because you’ve lost your head, the only thing you know for certain is that your pussy is pulsing and soaking wet. 
He kisses up your heat once more while his hands rub the outside of your legs, trying to get you to settle, “Take a minute,” Sunghoon brings you forward so you sit up, his arms keeping you steady when you climb onto him and sit on his lap, “You did so well, Sweets.” You lay your head on his shoulder and indulge in the praises he’s giving you. 
Drawing back you look at him with hazy eyes, “Thank you, Hoonie.”
“I should be thanking you, you taste fucking unreal,” he pushes your sweaty hair back absentmindedly before he kisses you ever so gently, his teeth grazing your lower lip, asking you to open up for his tongue.
Slowly, you open up to grant him entry, his kitten licks subtle but deep enough that you can tangle your tongue with his. You had never been kissed like this before and it was turning you on so much; the way his hands were roaming over your back and his lips moulding into yours just right, it was like a dream. The atmosphere was getting hot again as you both deepened the kiss, your tongues swirling and flicking with one another rhythmically.  
He bites your bottom lip and pulls at it roughly, making you involuntarily groan and throw your head back. Sunghoon loves how responsive you are, the way your body presses into him desperately seeking connection the same way he does. It's euphoric, and it gives him the same feeling of want that you do. 
One thing that’s missing is the view of your delicious tits in his face, covered by his much-loved band t-shirt. Swiftly, he peels it off your body and his hands fly right to them, squeezing and pulling at them roughly. He contemplates removing his lips from your mouth to attach them to your perky nipple but you’re enjoying kissing him too much. 
He’ll come back for them soon.
Although it seems like he has been kissing you for eternity, it has revived you and made you want more. The idea makes your clit pulsate, and you softly massage her over his clothed cock, “Hoonie,” the uttering of his nickname brings him out of his dazed state and he pulls back to look at you, “I need you.” After admiring how full his lips have become from the kisses, you find it impossible to resist the temptation to start kissing him once more, not giving him a chance to speak.  
Sunghoon’s mouth should be put in a museum or win some sort of Nobel prize for how spectacular it is.
“You sure? Don’t you need more time?” To be honest, Sunghoon became so engrossed in your tongue inside his mouth that he completely lost track of time. He’s unaware that he has been kissing and holding you on his lap for more than twenty minutes which for you is more than enough recovery time.
“I’m sure,” You reassure him not just by your words but by how hard you’re starting to hump him over his boxers.
His eyelids are drooping, heavy from the lust he’s feeling, “Fuck, you turn me on so bad, Y/N.” Sunghoon can’t wait any longer so with one hand on the back of your head and one on your ass, he lifts you slightly as he shuffles forward to lay you down so you’re comfortable on the bed. Just as he promised himself, he dives his mouth onto your left tit, sucking and licking your nipple. They’re so soft and delicate that he just cannot get enough.
Although you enjoy the way he's toying with your breasts, it's not what you want right now. He has all the time in the world to fondle you, just as soon as his cock is slotted inside your pussy, “Sunghoon, please.”
“Shh, I know.” He gets it, he really does - he is just as, if not more desperate to fuck you. He just had to pay some extra loving to his favourite girls first.
“Let me grab a condom.” Sunghoon keeps them in his top drawer like most people do so they’re easy enough to retrieve and won’t keep you waiting. He stands up and flicks through the drawer to find the foils - he has ultra-thin condoms somewhere in this mess which are far superior to the ones he has in his car. 
You turn to look at him as he hurriedly scours his drawer for the rubber and it dawns on you that he still has his clothes on, albeit he’s only in a loose top and stripy boxer shorts, but it’s still two layers too many. Your fingers reach over and twist his top idly, wondering what he looks like naked. It was unfair he got to see you naked twice and you haven’t even seen him with his top off yet.
Sunghoon feels the tugging of his t-shirt and looks down at you, the desired-filled gaze you have as you’re lost in thought only encourages him to find the condoms faster. He finally stumbles upon the red packet and inwardly celebrates. The ultra-thin condoms felt so good, giving him almost the same sensation as going in raw while making sure no baby Parks were running around Cheonan. 
With the boy distracted as he shuts the drawer, you take the opportunity to slowly pull down his boxers. His startled expression  turns to one of excitement as he processes what you’re doing, “That desperate?” Instead of answering, you lick up his shaft painfully slow, keeping eye contact with him as you do so, “Fucking hell.” 
As your mouth closes around his tip and sucks firmly, the already painful hardness of his cock intensifies, leaking pre cum into your mouth already, “Sweets, as much - fuck - as much as I would love to have you suck me off, I really want to fuck you.” He whips off his t-shirt, now standing proudly naked.
Popping off him reluctantly, you agree and go back to the position he laid you in, “You always listen to me so well, Sweets,” he says while stroking his cock a few times to spread the mix of your saliva and the beads of his cum. 
Opening the wrapper and rolling the condom, he sees your hungry eyes focused on him. You’re watching his every move and it’s agonising. That jealousy that seems to erupt within you when it comes to Sunghoon seems to have gotten so bad you’re now jealous of him as he touches his own cock. There’s something wrong with you but you want to be the only one touching him.
Sunghoon crawls on the bed and hovers over you, ready to give you what you want, “Can’t wait to feel you around me again. Thought I might die.”
“Sunghoon, it’s only been a week,” you laugh and curl your arms around his neck to peck his lips.
“Yeah, a week too long.” Sunghoon mirrors your laugh. He wasn’t joking though, after he fucked you, nothing else could get him off, only you could do that for him now. He was never letting you out of his grasp again, that much was obvious.
He starts by dragging his dick through your folds, stimulating your clit with the brushing of his head just to test how ready for this you are. Your nub was highly sensitive at the moment and he didn’t want to hurt you but by the soft mewls leaving your throat, he got confirmation that you were okay and pressed himself to your entrance, slowly pushing in.
Sunghoon started off slow and shallow, opening you up around him gently. What he doesn’t plan on is you moving yourself down further onto his cock, already eager for more. He didn’t know what you liked so he had to learn as he went along but he’s taking mental notes because he wants to be the one fuck you never forget about. Even in 40 years if you’re married to someone else with kids he wants you to look back on him and think about how no one has ever fucked you as good as Park Sunghoon.
He grips your hips and starts to bottom out, thrusting into you with a fast and steady pace that’s already driving you wild. The way his cock curves slightly to the left helps add a sensation you haven’t felt before with anyone else, “Oh my god, fuck,” you grasp him by his hair and plant more kisses on him. Even though they're clumsy, you absolutely have to have him all over you, whatever it takes, “Hoonie, you feel so good.”
“Fuck, baby, so do you,” The nickname slips out his lips by accident, he wasn’t sure if calling you baby was against the rules, he’d have to ask you later because he doesn’t think you’ve even registered what he just said, too lost in pleasure.
His hips snap sharply against you as he presses in deeper. The feeling of your pussy squeezing him has him close to climax but he’s holding it in, just like you did earlier. This wasn’t for any reason other than wanting this to last. Sunghoon can cum more than once usually, but with breaks, and by the look of you already so fucked out, he knows he can’t push you to go that long. 
Sitting back up on his knees, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and twists you on your side, the new angle allowing his cock to hit your sweet spot over and over again. He’s pounding into you so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach, “Fuck, Hoonie, right there!” you cry out in pleasure, burying your head into the bed. He is literally fucking you sideways and you cannot get enough of it. 
You want to help out but you physically can’t. Sunghoon is holding onto your leg and manhandling you in any way he pleases to make you feel good and fuck it’s working. In contrast to his forceful thrusts, he gives your calf a couple of gentle kisses, making you feel incredibly cared for, as though his sole goal is your pleasure.
And it is. That’s all he will ever think about from now on, “Y/N,” he moans your name and it’s the best song you’ve ever heard, “I’m gonna fuck you forever.”
“Please, don’t ever stop, please.” You mean every pleading cry because you’ve never felt so good in your life. The groans escaping your mouth are so loud it’s embarrassing but when you feel Sunghoon thrust his hips faster, the feeling of embarrassment dissipates because he clearly likes you being loud, probably because he’s the same. His grunts filled the room with the occasional profanities following them. You’ve never been with a man who’s vocal but you can’t ever go back to the quiet. You can’t fuck anyone other than Sunghoon.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sweets. You’re fucking sensational.” He twists you back onto your back, both of your legs now placed over his broad shoulders as he bends you in half, fucking you to finality, “You’re squeezing me so good. Do you want to cum?” His voice is breathless, close to finishing himself.
You can’t get the words out so you settle with a nod but you know he wouldn’t accept that as an answer. Looking up at him you manage to build your voice, “Yes, Hoonie. I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum.”
“You never have to ask, Sweets, just let go.” 
Being the people pleaser you are, it’s only natural for you to ask if you can cum. If you cum too soon he might not like that and you can’t imagine disappointing him. What you don’t know is that you could never disappoint Sunghoon, he doesn’t care if you cum in 5 seconds or 5 hours, he just wants you to feel good.
He sees you thinking about it even though you’re desperate to climax. It’s time for him to bring out the big guns. Sliding his hand down between you, he rubs your clit back and forth, “Be a good girl for me.” He caught onto your need for appraisal right away and he knows it’ll drive you crazy. And he’s right because the praise mixed in with his harsh thrusts and fingers stroking your clit, your body starts to shake and contort as you cum. 
Even though your eyes are clenched tight, you could cry from how much the orgasm is coursing through you., “That’s it, doing so well for me,”  Sunghoon whispers in your ear, losing his sharp rhythm, “Fuck, Y/N, you’re the best pussy I’ve ever had.” 
“It’s only for you.” You whimper, still fucked out of reality, “Only yours.”
“Yeah? Your pussy is all mine?”
“All yours, Hoonie.” 
With your words, he stills his cock inside of you and lets his climax take control as he spills into the condom, filling it up before falling on top of you. It doesn't take the exhausted man long to realise that his head is perfectly positioned between your tits, a sly smile teasing his face. 
This is everything he’s ever dreamed of. 
Your shared breathless pants bounce around the room, evidencing the exertion of your sex session. Can you imagine if you had said no to being casual with him? You wouldn’t have gotten to experience the best sex of your life. 
He lifts his head to look at you, swallowing hard, trying to get some moistness back into his mouth, “You are unreal, do you know that?” All you can do is laugh at him and shake your head, “I’m serious, Y/N, you’re fucking amazing.” He places a gentle kiss between your breasts as if to seal his compliment into your heart. 
You thread your fingers through his hair and it falls perfectly back into place. You are so content right now with Sunghoon’s cock nestled inside you, his hands tucked under your back as he absentmindedly massages you, and his lips now trailing kisses up your collarbone and neck, “Thank you, Hoonie.”
“You don’t have to thank me for telling you the truth,” His lips finally meet yours again as he smooches you a couple of times.
“Not that,” you pause to collate your words, “Thank you for helping me yesterday, like truly I wouldn’t have been surprised if you ignored my call.” After you left him high and dry you didn’t understand why he came to your rescue at the party but you could not thank him enough.
“I’ll always answer when you call,” he states casually, hiding how his words have a deeper meaning. 
His eyes sparkle and stare into yours. He wants to say more but he has to leave it there. What he wants to tell you is that you can rely on him night and day and that he wants to protect you for the rest of his life. There’s something about you that is dragging him into a pot of feelings he hasn’t experienced before. 
It’s crazy how fast all of this has happened for you both, and if he ever vocalised how he felt people would probably tell him it was crazy. Yet, for Sunghoon, it wasn’t crazy at all. He felt so many things for you, he just doesn’t know what they all are or why they’re happening so quickly.
But he told you he would keep his feelings in order, hold them back to make this deal work. It’s going to be difficult because he wants to scream at how much he likes you, how comforting it is when you’re with him. Even when you studied at the rink while he skates, no one uttering a word or sparing a glance, he just felt happier with your presence. That’s probably why he came up and spoke to you that night he accused you of being a spy for your brother.
Yes, there was a little part of him that believed you were there to give Minhee a heads up given how close you both are, but he just needed one excuse to talk to you. If he made the first move then he could keep talking to you, just like he’s always wanted to.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper. 
“Like what?” His eyes don’t stop speaking silent words and it makes your tummy flutter.
“Like you’re breaking the rules already.” 
You sit up on your elbows, breaking the connection. Not that you wanted to but if you both can’t even keep the deal intact for a couple of hours, there was no hope for you. Sunghoon listens to your body language and gets off of you completely, slipping his cock out in the process. 
He disregards the condom in his bin and puts his boxers back on, “I guess we need to set the rules before I can break them.” Suddenly he goes out of the room for a minute, only to come back with a cloth and some blue Powerade, “Like, can I clean you up, or is that a no?”
The boundaries between what is and is not too intimate are hazy, but he is physically unable to resist taking care of you after sex. He would rather die than watch you clean yourself because as far as Sunghoon was concerned if he made the mess, he should clean it. Plus, it’s the right thing to do after he just fucked your brains out.
“I-” You ponder for a moment, unsure of the protocol between fuck buddies, but as you think it over, Sunghoon is already wiping you down, cleaning your juices from your folds and thighs. You could do it yourself, you supposed, but you can’t lie, being taken care of like this even in the most simplest of ways made you feel warm inside. Are these the feelings you’re both trying to avoid? This is too complicated.
“I guess we can work out the rules as we go. But I am giving you aftercare, I don’t care what you say.” He hands you the Powerade once he’s finished cleaning you off, “And you can’t run off right away.”
“But I can’t spend the night,” you argue.
“You don’t have to, but I’m not going to kick you out. If you’re tired, you stay here. End of story.” Clearly, Sunghoon hasn’t grasped the idea of friends with benefits but you’ll let it go for now. 
You take a sip of your drink, your gaze lingering on Sunghoon as he rummages through his closet, searching for something for you to wear. You take the time to admire his back, the natural muscles built from his workout regime pop as he flicks through the hoodies hanging up. It’s making you wet again, you can’t lie. 
He removes one from its hanger and gives it to you, along with some gym shorts. Although they probably look great on him, you can’t help but think how much you might end up looking like Adam Sandler if you put them on, but then again, you don’t have a choice.
“Here, put these on.” He hands you the clothes, kissing your head before petting it softly, the act of affection making you giddy.
“I can’t wear your hoodie, that’s too girlfriend-ish,” you look up at him and his hand stops at the back of your head, scratching it adoringly.
Sunghoon sighs with a smile, “You don’t really have a choice here, Sweets. Unless you want to put that dress back on,” The idea of physically stuffing yourself into that piece of clothing again makes you shudder, “That’s what I thought. It’s just an old hoodie anyway, I don’t even wear it anymore.”
False. He won't admit it to you, but he always wears it and carries it with him everywhere. It's his comfort sweatshirt. To see you in his favourite hoodie and to smell like him - that's why Sunghoon chose it especially.
As you slip into the hoodie, unaware of its significance to him, you unknowingly envelop yourself in a piece of his world. The familiar scent of him lingers in the fabric, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. 
Quickly, you put on the remaining clothes and search for your stuff, “I need to go to Rinas, she’s probably wondering where I am.” In your leather jacket, you feel around for your phone, anticipating missed calls from your best friend. 
“She knows you’re here,” He picks up your phone from the floor and passes it to you, it must have fallen out when he carried you in here last night. 
You look at him puzzled but still remember to thank him, “What do you mean? Rina would never have let you take me home,” you state. Rina saw the mess you were in because of him, and with him leathering into that guy, she would have dragged you away from him herself.
Sunghoon smiles triumphantly, “She didn’t have a choice. I told her you were going to mine and that she had to cover for you.” 
“You told THE Yu Jimin what to do?” You were gagged at the thought, truly, your flabber had been gasted because no one tells Rina what to do, like ever, and if they did she would make sure they were never happy again.
He simply shrugs and steals a kiss, and then another before his lips linger for a little longer, enticing you to kiss him back. Once he feels your lips moving with his, he smirks, bringing his hand to cradle your jaw, his fingers in your hair. You probably shouldn’t be kissing like this either but you don’t care right now, not with how his lips taste against yours..
Sunghoon steps back after a few blissful minutes and asks, "Was that the right choice, or what?" When he walks away to change, the smile becomes a smirk as he thinks about the sex you’ve just had. 
You check your phone for messages and there are a lot. One from Minhee, saying he had a great time and he was staying at Jungmo’s place. It was perfect because now you could sneak into the house without anyone knowing you were gone for the night. There are a few texts from your mum saying she’s going to the store and not to sleep all day. And then there was Rina.
Rina💗
4:12am: Y/N, text me when you get there.
4:33am: If he touches you I swear to fuck I will kill him.
5:02am: Please let me know if you got to his ok?
8:54am: GIRL WAKE UP.
9:01am: You never sleep in after drinking.
9:01am: ARE YOU FUCKING HIM RIGHT NOW?
9:02am: IF YOU FUCK HIM I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN
10:23am: I cannot believe you are fucking him! Get over here right now.
You don’t know how she knew you were fucking him at that time but you are never going to hear the end of it. 
“What is she saying?” He asks, tying the string of his joggers. 
“That if you touch me she’s going to kill you, and I’m basically in the bad books for fucking you.” He turns the phone to see the messages and laughs. 
Sunghoon hadn’t encountered Rina until last night but he heard the rumours about her and her temper. He didn’t know it was that girl who was your best friend, he thought you might have run with a different crowd, a quieter one with less drama. Rina was the opposite of you, she’s loud and obnoxious, and that’s just from what he saw last night, but at least she looks after you. He knew it was out of order to bad mouth her and her boyfriend but he’s not sorry for it.
“Well then,” He circles his arms around you, “If I’m going to die at the hands of your best friend, I think I should get to fuck you one more time.” He leans down to kiss you but all you can do is laugh. He was just a man at the end of the day, a horny, needy man.
“I need to get to Rina’s.” You say between kisses but that’s not what he wants to hear, so he grumbles slightly, the pout of his lips only adding to the kiss. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know he’s upset that you won’t stay a little longer, “I know, Hoonie. But I’ll see you at the rink, yeah?”
“Want another Zamboni lesson? I can really show you how to pump the lever.” Playfully, you slap his chest and push him away. The look on his face is one of arrogance and it’s so sexy but you can’t let him know, it’ll only inflate his head more. 
You grab your belongings while Sunghoon follows you around like a puppy, placing his hand on your ass as you bend down to put on your shoes. The clothes you are wearing are ludicrous, nonetheless, you can't go to Rina's place barefoot. Sunghoon's hand slides beneath your hoodie and gently rubs your back, but when you straighten up, both of his hands are suddenly on your skin, easing their way to your boobs.
He pinches both of your nipples, eliciting a moan. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you let him fondle you, “Sunghoon, I honestly have to go.”
“I know, just give me a minute.” His fascination with your boobs is unhealthy but he just can’t get enough. If your pussy wasn’t so delicious they might take the number one spot for his favourite things on your body. True to his word, after a couple of minutes he lets you go, his hands now hanging sadly by his side, “C’mon I’ll drive you.”
“I can walk it’s fine.” It was a long walk but you could use the air, still hot from the hangover and taking Sunghoon’s cock.
His eyebrows raise and he crosses his arms, “In those heels, yeah?” His eyes point to your 6 inch shoes in bewilderment. People look great in heels but he will never understand how anyone walks more than 5 minutes in them.
You look down at your shoes with him and nod, “Yeah, it’s only like an hour or two walk or something, I’ll blast through it.”
“Not a chance. I’m driving you.” As you begin to protest he points to you, “Eh, no arguing about this, Sweets, I’m taking you to Karina’s.” Sunghoon always had a way of getting what he wanted, either from his charm or his stubbornness. You have no choice now but to agree, so you pick your stuff back up and follow him out of his room.
Just as you both exit, Jake stands with a towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets falling down his abs. Sunghoon tuts in disgust, “Dude, there’s a girl here.”
“Yeah, I think the whole block knows that.” Sunghoon warns Jake with his eyes to shut up, “I’m Jake, by the way, Sunghoon’s favourite roommate.” Jake sticks his arm out to give you a handshake which you gingerly accept. 
“Y/N.” 
“Yeah, knew that too. He’s just as loud.” Jake laughs and walks away, leaving you both filled with embarrassment. 
You punch the boy beside you in the arm once Jake is out of sight, causing Sunghoon to yelp and rub his arm, “How could you not tell me you had roommates!” you whisper-shout up at him.
If you had known he lived with others, there's no way you would have been as loud as you were. Everyone has sex, so it's not a huge thing. However, you're not thrilled that Sunghoon neglected to mention his roommates, especially since you haven't even seen them before and their first impression of you is you moaning like you’re in the adult entertainment industry.
“I guess I was too busy fucking you senseless to think about them.” He earns another punch for that one, but he takes it in his stride, wrapping his arm around you, “C’mon, Sweets, if anything, you’ve started a competition on who can get their girl to scream loudest.” 
With that, he kisses the crown of your head as he guides you out of the house and to his car.
taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexuals @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops
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froggibus · 11 months
Note
Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)
“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys
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Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)
Genre: fluff/kinda crack?
CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)
been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!
————
Cassidy:
“what kinda question is that??”
looks at you in flabbergastation 
you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks 
“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”
a jar????
now you’re the flabbergasted one 
jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate?? 
what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??
somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm
somehow finds one?? 
keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm
even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”
weirdly wholesome experience would try again
Reaper
“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”
he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth 
would he love you as a worm? 
“what kind of worm”
what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter?? 
obviously the pink wriggly kind 
he has to ponder this 
sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm
“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”
????
“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”
more pondering 
“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”
better than any response you could have expected but would not try again
Genji
“would we still have sex”
please hit this man
he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird 
“why would you be a worm tho”
just answer the question, Genji
green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer 
will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??
“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”
“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>
“that too”
at least he’s honest?
exactly as you expected, would not try again
Zenyatta
“a worm? like the insect?”
“yes? what other worms are there”
considers this
“is everything okay?”
poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm??? 
please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm
goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take
honestly so wholesome + cute 
“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”
good enough would try again
Ramattra 
“No”
way to sugarcoat it, babe
it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap
“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”
you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm
talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour 
says he would “put you out of your misery”????
“you would KILL ME?!”
“as an act of honour”
babe….
0/10 would not try again
Hanzo
“why”
idk bro just answer the question 
lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose
“would I also be a worm or am i still human” 
only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm
probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love 
“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”
has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict 
lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes 
“…yes”
cute in the end but would not try again 
Lucio:
“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”
that’s not the question 
somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self? 
he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong 
“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”
“ok and??”
says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil
“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”
makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night 
honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again
Baptiste:
“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”
honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation 
“but what if I want to be a worm”
“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”
fair enough
insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm 
makes a lot of jokes at your expense too
finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need 
“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”
“love is a strong word”
good enough, would not try again
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yanxidarlings · 4 months
Text
what's this? for once i am listening to a poll and not getting distracted by something entirely different?
fair warning this is probably my darkest yandere hp writing, reader goes through some shit (said shit being the slytherins shit) it's mostly just angst and misery with a hint of fluff (if you squint) honestly not that crazy about this, but i hereby present
YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?
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"remember, m/n, you have to do everything to be put into slytherin, no matter how it is the sorting works" draco levelled with m/n l/n, holding an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.
breaking away from the blond's gaze, m/n let out a snicker "i don't know what you're so worried about, draco, i'm the most slytherin person i know!" internally, everyone who wasn't m/n sighed. it was no secret m/n wasn't exactly.. slytherin material. but neither was enzo, or goyle and crabbe for that matter. but they'd all end up in slytherin together anyway, right?.
swinging an arm over the other male's shoulder, enzo pulled m/n in close "we just have to act as slytherin as possible, it'll be a lap around the quidditch pitch getting sorted if we just think things like.. how wicked snakes are- especially green ones! and.." the brunet furrowed his brows as he paused to think. "and just say mudblood over and over again as well! that'll convince them for sure"
m/n laughed, wiggling out of enzo's grip. if only he had actually taken the advice, maybe he wouldn't be where he was now.
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"ravenclaw" "hufflepuff" "gryffindor"
what did the hat even yell out? all m/n knows is that it wasn't slytherin. he sat motionless on the stool, gripping the edges, waiting to hear 'slytherin' yelled out.
"mr l/n, please make your way to the ravenclaw table" a stern voice spoke.
he looked up to see professor mcgonagall staring at him, indicating towards the ravenclaw table. "what, why?" he gave the old woman a confuddled look "that's you're house, mr l/n" the look of confuddlement had turned into pure shock "the.. over there?" when mcgonagall quickly confirmed yes his mouth went agape "are you sure? i.." he pointed towards the slytherin table, where the rest of his childhood friends had been sorted "whilst i'm not entirely convinced, the sorting hat is, move along child" ushering him off the stool and towards the ravenclaw table, mcgonagall quickly went to call out the next name as soon as he was down the steps.
taking a seat at the very edge of the table, m/n ignored the greeting from the boy sat next to him to stare over at the slytherin table. only lorenzo was looking over at him, the rest avoided his gaze.
the boy pinched his forearm, leaving a red mark. but he didn't wake up in his bed nor the slytherin dormitory.
looking down, he saw his robes had taken on the blue and bronze colours associated with the eagle house. his stomach dropped, the reality of the situation coming crashing down. m/n l/n's life was effectively over
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• the next day at herbology, the ravenclaw first class that day with the slytherins, none of them acknowledged him. it stung. sure, the reader had heard of purebloods not getting sorted into slytherin and being alienated from their family and circle, but it was never supposed to happen to him!
• the invisible treatment, alongside the howler he received from his guardian was enough to make him cry in the owlery after curfew. where else was there to cry? his new dormmates were mudbloods out for his magic! and the prefects patrolled the halls at night. imagine the humiliation if weaslebee or whatever the ravenclaw prefect's name was saw him balling his eyes out?
• lorenzo spoke to him, for a little while. but he knew the boy's parents would nip that behaviour in the bud eventually. the prestigious heir of the berkshire family? associating with a blood traitor? m/n knew none of them wanted to be dragged down with him.
• for a little while, he thought they just needed time to adjust to him being in a different house. it was just a house? the day after ravenclaw beat the slytherin team in first year, all hopes of that came crashing down.
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"draco!" m/n smiled as he came past malfoy in the halls, "can you believe wattle stole the snitch? she must have knocked it out of higgs hands, i swear he had it" quidditch was safe, right? m/n had never given a hoot about quidditch in the past, but if it meant getting back in draco and his gang's good books, call him a connoiseur.
malfoy shot m/n a glare "let's see you do any better then" he spat. crabbe and goyle had their arms folded, as if they were the blond's bodyguards.
the ravenclaw went agape before puffing his cheeks out, trying to think of something to say "i- i was just chatting" he folded his arms, not in the intimidating way crabbe and goyle were, as if to make himself smaller.
"you're pathetic, l/n, you think i'd want to be friends with a disgusting blood traitor. know what? i'm glad you got sorted into ravenclaw so i didn't have to find out the hard way, you would have taken us all down with you, wouldn't you?" draco sneered out, eyes narrowing.
m/n looked down, his face painted with shock "draco.. i swear i'm not a blood traitor, the hat got it all wrong!" there was no reasoning with someone like draco, who had been raised with the strict pureblood beliefs shoved down his throat.
oi!, a voice rang out from behind him, turning halfway, m/n saw a boy in slytherin robes that he had never met before "who's this" "who are you" m/n said in near unison with the stranger "he's no one, riddle, nothing but a worthless blood traitor"
with that, malfoy, crabbe and goyle pushed past m/n, and began chatting with the other boy- riddle.
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• to say the first few years at hogwarts are hell for m/n is an understatement. it wouldn't be a surprise if he developed anxiety, depression and paranoia from the constant ridicule and bullying. every corner he turned, one of them was there, calling him foul names, telling him he's a disgrace to his family name.
• who would want to stick around and become a victim as well? no one. that's who m/n had, no one. they brought anyone who he spent time with the same hell. it wasn't even just insults, it was physical, from getting into petty fights with mattheo, to theodore using the levicorpus charm to give him a concussion.
• if he so much as looks one of the greengrass girls way, elio would pour one of snape's potions over m/n's head and then tell the professor that m/n had stolen the potion. if he got the best grade in any class, enzo would accuse the reader of stealing his work, although tom always seemed to be the mastermind behind it.
• there was this one time when a girl a year below him, luna lovegood, began hanging around him, declaring that they were now friends. but m/n knew better than to get used to it, and he was right. within a few weeks of the friendship, a rumour started spreading that m/n was sleeping with rita skeeter and shit talking the quibbler. lovegood never looked at him the same.
• not to mention, the situation at home only got worse. the house was no longer a home, if it ever was. everything he apparently 'did' at hogwarts got reported back to his parents, who disowned him in fifth year.
• m/n didn't return to hogwarts after the winter break when his name was burnt off the family tree.
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the great hall was bustling with students, catching up with friends after the yuletide season. the 'best spot' on the slytherin table (where the roasted turkeys were) was dominated by what was best known as the 'slytherin gang'.
blaise was quiet, but when wasn't he? he only spoke when something needed to be said. eyeing the ravenclaw table for his favourite person to lovingly stare (glare) at, he saw no familiar face.
darting his eyes back and forth between the entry and the table, a solemn look crossed his dark features. "what's got you so pissed, mate?" theo leaned over, following zabini's gaze. blaise briefly made eye contact with theo before taking a bite of roasted potato
"i don't see him either" riddle, tom, to be exact, remarked. theo made an 'o' face, the name didn't have to be said for everyone to know who they were talking about. they spent their days thinking of ways to torment him, who else would they notice the absence of?
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• nobody explicitly said they missed the reader, but actions speak louder than words.
• tom was the first to notice something was amiss. you couldn't waterboard the information out of him, but he couldn't stand not to know where l/n was. he honestly thought the bullying was a bit ridiculous, but as long as he was isolating the reader, he didn't care how it was done.
• he takes action the quickest, stalking the long halls, trying to determine whether or not m/n was just avoiding them.
• it became something of a group mission find out where m/n is. before, they were just possessive, but now, now they were becoming obsessed.
• when the darling finally returned to hogwarts after weeks of being MIA, all the torment, all the bullying, it just stopped. they were being nice which only scared m/n even more. five, even four years ago he would have eaten this up. but he knew better than to trust people now- no, he was straight up paranoid.
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BLAISE ZABINI
• blaise was one of the only ones who truly believed m/n was a blood traitor. but he never gave up on him. in blaise's mind, the years of 'torment' was him helping show the reader the importance of blood purity and status.
• blaise won't apologise for what he did, not sincerely. it'll be more of a 'i'm sorry it took you this long to understand the point'. he truly thinks he was just molding the reader into the perfect future spouse for him.
• the reader has simply traded one hell for another with blaise. refuse to agree to the arranged marriage? won't spend time with him? then the reader truly must be a blood traitor.
• blaise has his softer moments with the reader, where he'll reassure them that he never actually hated them, that he didn't mean any of what he would say to them. but the damage is done.
• when it's his night with m/n, sometimes he'll be awoken at 2am to the sound of m/n getting ready for the next day. when he tried to open the door to the bathroom, he had never heard such a panicked "don't!" when he asked m/n why, "i'm not presentable yet" it broke his heart.
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DRACO MALFOY
• draco had been encouraged by his parents- no, by his father, to put m/n in his place. now that he looks back at it, it had nothing to do with m/n, it was about making sure draco never even considered betraying his blood status.
• he engulfed the reader in a hug when he finally saw him on the way to class. whispering apologies, holding back tears. "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-" but he was quickly shoved off, m/n even mocked him for the tears.
• for the first time in his life, he understood what it felt like to be in the readers position. merlin, he was a git, wasn't he? he'll spend his entire life trying to make up for it if he has to.
• what he couldn't handle was m/n rejecting his attempts at friendship. gosh fucking damn it just love him already, draco makes it clear that the bullying might be over, and he's really sorry it ever happened, but the reader is never allowed a life outside of the slytherins.
• people who interact with the reader are still targeted, leaving him as isolated as ever. at some point he might accept draco's offer of friendship, but he'd never be stupid enough to actually buy into that bollocks.
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE
• lorenzo was kind of like the readers guardian angel throughout his years of torment. he might have been a bystander, but he never directly took part in foul 'pranks' they'd pull on him. it hurt his heart to see m/n so misrable, but he had a reputation to uphold and parents to keep happy.
• whenever the chance would present itself, enzo would try and make m/n's day a bit better. he sent anonymous chocolates from hogsmede for a good while, until pollux and draco started calling m/n a pig when he'd eat them at dinner.
• but it was the thought that counts! and that's what enzo tries to tell m/n in fifth year. he got punched. m/n told him to get lost in the forbidden forest and to take the rest of them with him.
• time heals all wounds, enzo probably has one of the best chances of developing an actual friendship with the reader. but they all want more, especially enzo. who believes he has some sort of precedence over the others for being 'so good' to the reader when everyone else wasn't.
• he thought he was being slick, discussing the possibility of an arranged marriage with his parents. but blaise has made plans a while back, and tom had taken the dark mark with the promise that his father would oneday have m/n marry him.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
• mattheo is by far, by a long mile, the worst of them all. he used to cruciatus curse on more than once on m/n whenever he was in a particularly jealous or bad mood. objectified him based on his looks "i'd bash your face in but then i'd ruin the only thing you have going for you."
• he didn't even know the reader before hogwarts, he just saw the way draco treated m/n, felt a funny warm feeling, and decided that meant he hated the reader.
• but god forbid anybody else does what he does, mattheo sometimes even tells off the other slytherins, the ones he doesn't like (draco lmao) to back off. maybe if he took his own advice m/n wouldn't be as traumatised as he is.
• lost his shit when m/n didn't return in fifth year. felt like he was dying, it was then he realised that maybe m/n is more important to him than he thought.
• babies the shit out of m/n when he comes back- he tries to at least. offers to carry his bags, trys to sleep in his bed with him, patches up even a small paper cut. it's a startling contrast, m/n probably feels like he has to go along with it, or risk becoming mattheo's target again.
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THEODORE NOTT
• theo wouldn't have gotten in on the bullying if it weren't for his father and the others encouraging him. he didn't do nearly as much as draco or mattheo, but was still considerably worse than blaise or enzo.
• he would always hover around m/n, using his robes, sometimes skin as an ashtray. always making some sort of sarcastic or witty remark. and he always had a glare that would sink though m/n's skull, leaving him constantly on the edge.
• even during the earlier years of hogwarts, theo would have moments of softness, where he dropped the hateful act. which is why he was the one m/n trusted the least when the torment finally stopped.
• m/n keeping his distance, emotionally at least, is what drives theo over the edge. instead of saying something demeaning when he gets like that, theo now has outbursts where he demands closeness: mattheo will often have to drag him out of the room.
• there's always an over the top apology, only for it to go horribly wrong when the reader doesn't eat it up. he drowns in self hatred and anger, wouldn't it be great it time turners could go back years and none of this happened?
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TOM RIDDLE
• tom honestly thought the reader deserved the treatment they got at first. to be born with pure blood and to throw away the privileges that came with it so easily? absolutely disgusting.
• he used to mastermind the bigger plans, until he came to respect m/n's intelligence and strength. anybody else would have ended themselves by now, and he had never met anyone as intelligent as himself. of course at first he developed his own hatred towards the ravenclaw whenever he'd get the same or a higher score on a test than him.
• his attraction to m/n causes him to pull out of partaking in the bullying by around third year. he's got better things to do, like being the top of the class over the likes of an ungrateful blood traitor.
• his main motivation in helping his father resurrect was the power it would give him over m/n. once he became a loyal death eater, he would be rewarded with m/n. the readers feelings be damned, tom wasn't above the imperius curse, amortentia or the cruciatus curse.
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uravitypng · 4 months
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WORKPLACE SLEAZY DENKI!!!! WORKPLACE SLEAZY DENKI!!!! AAAAAHHH
starting a new office job you expected lots of things, shitty coworkers, terrible pay, rubbish hours, you didn't expect some hot annoying blonde who's acting like he's made it his personal mission to make your life a misery every single time you walked into the office by spilling things and overall being accident prone.
the first day it was all smiles and extra fancy clothes, you wanted to make a good impression after all. you spent most of the morning at your desk but at lunch you rushed to go get a cup of tea from the break room as you were short on time in the morning. that was when you first met him... denki kaminari, flirtatiously talking to a couple of girls next to him and leaning against the wall casually, much to casual in your opinion, the two girls giggling at whatever he said. when he spots you looking at him he winks, you quickly turn around and do what you originally came to do.
denki immediately lost interest in those girls as he saw you, finding you much more interesting. you must be new because he definitely would've noticed a pretty little thing like you around the office. denki excuses himself from the conversion and goes over to you, standing too close to you and crowding your personal space. "i haven't seen you around here before, you must be a new hire right? i'm kaminari, denki kaminari." he gives you a boyish grin and your cheeks flush due to the proximity of such an attractive man who you've just spoken to for the first time. you introduce yourself and chat for awhile, only for a couple minutes, before you get back to your desk, him asking you about your life and your last job, small talk, that's all. he seems interested in what you have to say and you're happy that at least someone at your new job will be nice to you.
half of him is interested in what you're saying but mainly he's distracted by your plump body and how biteable your lips move as you talk. you look so much prettier than all the other girls in the office and he knows that he'll be talking to you everyday. he notes that your voice sounds sweet too, even though he's barely paying attention to what words you're saying.
you've been working together for ten months now and at the beginning it was fine, you didn't notice what his real intentions. three weeks in he 'accidentally' spilled hot coffee on you, a small whimper escaped your mouth due to the shock but you didn't notice the tiny smirk that appears on his face before quickly disappearing. your white blouse is entirely ruined and the fabric is sticking to your chest. "oh shit, i'm sorry i didn't see where i was going. are you okay? i'm sorry, i'll clean it and oh i'll buy you a new one." you go to forgive him after hearing how genuine he sounds but you're stopped in your tracks when denki pulls out some tissues and starts wiping your shirt with the tissues. you're stunned as you feel him press the tissue down against your breasts and rubs, " 'm sorry again, we've got to get it out now or it'll stain." if you heard denki's thoughts at that moment you'd never speak to him again, 'this worked out even better than i thought.'
you were on your guard at that point around denki, at least you tried to be but he's so friendly to everyone it's hard for you to think denki would do such a thing on purpose. when he notices you've withdrawn yourself slightly and started speaking to him less he corrects it. in the morning denki brings you a cup of tea that he knows you drink and a cookie from the cafe he knows you like to go to. "i really am sorry about spilling coffee on you again. i still want to get you another blouse but i don't know what size you are, i'm not very good at those types of things." he wants you to tell him exactly what size you are with all of your clothes, he thinks that might create a more accurate picture in his mind when he jerks off at the thought of you every night. you let your guard down at the gesture and you can't help but feel guilty for thinking that denki would purposely spill a drink on you.
whenever you go to the break room it seems like denki is right behind you. he leans against the doorframe and slouches on the chairs. when you're making a drink he'll come right up behind you to get a mug from the shelf, he'll be so close at that point you can feel his breath against you and you know that if you leaned back just the slightest your bodies would make contact. denki hopes that one day you'll lean back and he'll be able to feel your ass against his crotch.
his favourite days at the office is when you wear tighter or shorter clothes than normal that show your full figure. when you wear those pencil skirts that show your soft supple tummy denki has to palm his dick, over his trousers, under his desk. it's physically impossible for him to look away from you when you sit down and your plush thighs increase in size or when you wear short sleeve shirts meaning he can see the stretch marks that decorate your skin. possibly his favourite thing though is when your shirts are tighter and the fabric is struggling to cover your breasts in the process pulling the buttons more than a normal fitting shirt. he likes those days best because he can imagine that one wrong move or deep breath and your buttons will pop off and your breasts will spill out.
he listens in when you're having lunch with your other coworkers talking about another failed date, who was boring and failed to satisfy you. denki smirks at the idea that it was another failed date, how many people have failed to satisfy you recently. he imagines your cute face scrunched up in pleasure after your date leaves because you have to get yourself off because you're just so needy.
denki drops things in front of you in hopes that you'll bend over and pick them up, however not too frequently that you'll catch on. he gets overzealous sometimes though dropping too many things too many times, often that does give you pause but then you'll see him drop things around other people too or when no ones around and you get reminded about how clumsy he is and you think nothing of it again. denki is so glad that you're kind enough to pick up all the things he drops, because no matter what angle he's looking at you from it's like heaven. sometimes he gets to see your breasts hanging near his face and sometimes you wear clothes that show more cleavage he sees the tiniest glimpse of the top of your bra as you bend down.
when you bend down and he's behind you he can see a clear view of your ass and you're distracted picking up whatever denki dropped so he can look as obviously as he wants to without you noticing. although his looks are often times obvious already but you dismiss the idea every time you catch him looking because you think denki would ever do that. when you do bend over though he wants to pin you to the desk and fuck you against it. he has to restrain himself from reaching out to you and groping your ass and spanking you.
every single day denki is getting bolder with his casual touches, friendly remarks and beaming grin. as the days go by you're starting to think that he's teasing you and annoying you on purpose because he thinks it's funny when you're annoyed, you're getting suspicious you still often brush that thought away.
you don't suspect that he wants to fuck you though. he knows he'll reel you in eventually, it hasn't even been a full year yet of working together, he's got plenty of time to do it. he can tell you're not going to be quitting any time soon and he definitely isn't with you around. how much longer until you realise his true intentions? that is, if you do realise before denki's succeeded and has gotten what he's after, you.
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kentopedia · 7 months
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♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai
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he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.
contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k
note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever
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the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living. 
it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning. 
it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford. 
you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room. 
hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils. 
someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning. 
you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?
the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen. 
you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting. 
the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance. 
you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight. 
you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there. 
he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.
you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.
still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them. 
perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle. 
the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.” 
“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”
his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you. 
“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?” 
you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.
and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent. 
it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.
you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on. 
he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?” 
the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.
“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?” 
you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly. 
he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.” 
nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead. 
“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides. 
“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.” 
your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”
“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”
you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”
his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.” 
it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god. 
that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers. 
it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely. 
already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.
“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated. 
he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.” 
you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?” 
he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”
there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?
“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”
“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.” 
you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?” 
he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”
your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”
“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.” 
you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?
“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.  
“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.” 
“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.” 
“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."
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three weeks pass before you see him again. 
you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.
osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side. 
you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came. 
night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart. 
though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him. 
you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.
“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.” 
“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?” 
he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations. 
osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges. 
“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”
“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”
“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes. 
it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together. 
“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet— 
“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.” 
osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.” 
he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.  
“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave  a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”
he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.” 
you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?” 
osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”
you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth. 
maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart. 
he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide. 
“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”
your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched. 
his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.
he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”
you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.” 
“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.
your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone. 
you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin. 
“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure. 
“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.” 
“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.” 
osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.” 
there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”
“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.” 
you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position. 
he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh. 
“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.” 
“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud. 
your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”
“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.” 
“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"
he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.” 
you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails. 
breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over. 
osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”
he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel. 
osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”
you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips. 
“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach. 
you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. “please, osamu, please,” 
he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features. 
you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further. 
though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.” 
sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you. 
“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—” 
“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”
his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir. 
“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.” 
“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour. 
your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder. 
you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth. 
“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.” 
you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—
“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?” 
“you don’t want to.” 
you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.” 
he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room. 
you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green. 
“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”
you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.
“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.” 
his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin. 
the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat. 
for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.
though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.
“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”
your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room. 
“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you. 
osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath. 
but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?” 
your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan. 
you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways. 
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tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346
OCTOBER MASTERLIST
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ramp-it-up · 30 days
Text
II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait 
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much? 
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now? 
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you. 
And he wanted to make it up to you. 
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier. 
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 
He kissed your hand again. 
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now. 
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
Hit reblog if you like it!
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inbarfink · 8 months
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"Just move forwards, Simon! Well, maybe I don't want to move forwards!"
Okay, so it’s pretty damn obvious that Simon’s whole rant here is not just about the physical act of moving forwards through the Time Room. Like, I don’t need to explain what ‘moving forwards’ means in this case, right? But… the thing I’ve been thinking of is that the metaphor here might actually extend more than just this one line.
Because, yeah, Simon does need to move forwards. Metaphorically because embracing change and accepting you can’t actually go back to some idealized past where things were Better is the only way he can actually be happier. And literally because there is an Angry Beetle Cop out to murder his head off for the crime of being chosen by God as a sapient hard-drive. 
But moving on is hard, and you know why?
Because it is hard to move forwards in this silly little mumu.  
And again, this is both metaphorical and literal. Simon is fully aware that he should move forwards with his life, but this robe is yet another painful reminder of the trauma he’s trying to move on from. Yet another example of people treating him like he’s Ice King. Yet another symbol that him being Simon again is seen as some sort of a mistake.
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And also, it’s just obviously physically, literally uncomfortable for him to move in this thing.
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Simon was forced into a fit designed for a Wizard who could Fly. He’s constantly lifting it up and being so careful about his steps as to not stumble on it, and also trying so hard to not flash his genitalia to God and God’s two OCs that he shoved in his brain. Not to mention he’s running around the Time Room barefoot. And, like, at least when Ice King wore this he still had underpants.
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But the thing is.... like, okay, the thing about the Shorts Scene is that it is kinda unfair Fionna got her outfit upgraded into a more comfortable variant while Simon still has to wear the Trauma Robes. But the important thing to remember is that Fionna got those lovely shorts because she explicitly complained about the skirt.
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You can say that Simon’s problems should’ve been Obvious and maybe that’s true… but it’s still notable that unlike Fionna, who immediately complained when she started to find her outfit kinda uncomfortable - Simon lets out one sarcastic grumble when he first gets the robe and then just keeps his mouth shut and quietly wallows in his misery until he reached his breaking point. 
That seems notable especially with what we see of Simon in “Simon Petrikov” and how hard it is for him to be honest with his loved ones about his problems. 
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I’ve seen some people express some anger at the way Finn and Marceline acted towards Simon during that episode. Saying they didn’t care about Simon enough. But Simon was deliberately hiding his struggles from them - and especially from Marcy. You know, he opened up to Finn and Finn was honestly doing what he thought was best. The problem being that Finn is pretty-messed-up himself and not good at therapy.
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And Simon decided the best solution was just to drop the whole thing and pretend that Finn’s adventure did help as a way to end that nightmare without directly confronting him about Actually Making Things Worse. As far as Finn is concerned, Simon was doing badly and is now doing well. And as far as Marcy is concerned Simon is doing just fine! And this situation is not likely to change unless Simon actually speaks up!
Of course, this is easier said than done. I mean, like I said, he was TRYING to open up to Finn and from his perspective, got punished for even trying out for help.
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And with the mumu, the situation is a even more complicated. Yes, Simon didn’t speak up when he had the chance to say ‘hey, actually it’s also pretty hard to run around barefoot in a robe! I would like some Pants please!” But also… where Finn and Marceline have both expressed nothing but genuine concern for Simon and take his issues very seriously in their own way - Prismo, Fionna and Cake have all been kinda callous about Simon’s situation and his mental well-being so far. 
So maybe it wasn’t totally unreasonable for Simon to assume that any attempt to assert what would make it easier for him to actually move forwards will fail. Or at least would be far too emotionally grueling to actually be worth it. I'm not saying that's for-sure what would've happened. I mean those three aren't just jerks for the sake of being jerks - it's just that Prismo is kinda occupied with his own grief-induced-depression-spiral and Fionna and Cake don't really get Simon yet. And we're surely going to get to a point in this narrative where these two genuinely care about him too sooner or later. But I can see in that moment why he would think that.
And so he keeps wallowing in the misery and resentment as it gets increasingly harder and harder to keep going forwards. Until he breaks and decide that maybe, what he actually wants is to just stop.  
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Hmm I wonder if Crowley and the school staff, Riddle, Dence, Ruggie, Azul, Jamil, Epel, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Sliver and Sebek found out that some certain people skipped the school and went to the amusement park? Also how would they react?
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I’d imagine they'd mostly have the pretty normal and expected initial reaction of being shocked that the others snuck out on a school night to a sketchy theme park and managed to come back from a human trafficking operation in one piece. To give a little more detail to each:
Riddle would collar Trey, Cater, and Ace, then lecture them for breaking various school rules, putting themselves in danger, disobeying his command to not sneak out and skip school, etc. He especially lays into the seniors for "not setting a proper example" for the Heartslabyul students.
Deuce awkwardly stands off to the side and watches as they get berated, occasionally nodding and going, "That's right!" in response to their dorm leader. (Ace gets annoyed and tells Deuce off, probably saying something like, "Don't act like YOU weren't interested in going earlier, dummy!")
Ruggie wails about how he would've enjoyed hanging out at a place that offers free everything. He makes jokes to cope with the situation, like poking fun at how the "straight-laced" Jack has a rebellious streak and how Leona's soooo responsible and selfless for chasing after his juniors. Ruggie also jokes about how he's glad his walking wallet "best" employer Leona-san made it back safely... and hey, he wouldn't have happened to have brought back a souvenir for his ever-so loyal hench-hyena, would he?
Azul tries to present as cool and uncaring to the twins; he tells them that if they fucked up and lost their autonomy because of their poor decisions and giving into their curiosity... well, that's their bad and they deserve the consequences of their actions. Jade and Floyd pal around with him, draping themselves over his shoulders and teasing him about how "It's okaaay, just admit that you missed us, admit that you were worried!" Deep down, Azul really was (but he'll never say that out loud and let the twins have an upper hand over him).
Jamil has a fucking heart attack knowing just how close he was to a dead and/or missing Kalim. Not because he cares or anything, but because his own ass would be grass if anything happened to Kalim. Jamil looks him over like five times to make sure not a hair on his head is harmed (all while Kalim is laughing, reassuring Jamil that he's fine, and telling him stories about all the fun times he had at Playful Land). When Kalim starts to suggest inviting Fellow and Gidel to their next banquet, Jamil silences him with a firm, "ABSOLUTELY NOT!!"
Rook waxes poetic about how he's so relieved that their beautiful Vil has returned to them. He'll faithfully fetch Vil whatever he needs to rest and recover from such a heart-pounding adventure!
Epel grumbles about how he wishes he could have gone too ("'N shown those puppets what fer!!"), only to get bonked and told off by his dorm leader. (Ace will tell him stories later, which makes Epel super envious.)
Idia tells Ortho that "touching grass" does them no good, it only brings misery and suffering like what he went through at Playful Land! The worry dies down and is replaced with keen interest the more Ortho tells him about the island's operations. They have a jammer that prevented Ortho's normal functions from working? Idia takes it as a personal challenge--who do they think they are, trying to trump this genius inventor? He'll show them what he's made of by powering up his little brother!
Sebek loudly insists they need to go and dismantle the shadowy organization responsible for attempting something so foolish as to entrap and sell THE Lilia Vanrouge off! Who do they think they are?! Man's absolutely appalled and enraged but also choking back tears at what he perceives is Lilia's nobility, so willing to throw himself into the heat of battle to save others!! Sebek tells Ace he should be "grateful" that Lilia saw it fit to save "such a pathetic lot of humans" from absolute destruction.
Silver frets over his father, but he's ultimately proud of him for acting the role of a reliable senpai and looking out for his underclassmen. (This is the reason he assumes for Lilia going to the shady park.) And, of course, he's glad to have his father back home with him. He insists on looking after him the day of his return, saying that Lilia has gone through a lot lately--and as the triumphant hero, he deserves to relax!
Malleus isn't worried about Lilia (he knows that Lilia can handle himself just fine) so much as he's disappointed that he wasn't invited to go along. He's curious about all that Lilia experienced in Playful Land and listens to his tales with wide eyes. Malleus is not really paying attention to the dangers present (after all, he is confident he could blow it all away if it dares to encroach on his autonomy). Lilia laughs and says they should take a trip to another amusement park sometime.
The staff would be collectively sad that their students would act out like they have. This is especially true of Trein, who is more disappointed than mad. He chastises the boys in a way that makes you feel bad for making like... a grandfather upset. He wonders if he has somehow mentored his students incorrectly or instilled the wrong values in them.
Crewel expresses his disappointment in a different way. He's harsher with his students: "Since you bad boys thought it fit to skip Crewel-sama's lecture, you must have already mastered the materials. Pencils out for a pop quiz!" That's his tough love out on full display, stemming from the desire to ensure that his students can survive on their own out there in the cruel wide world.
Vargas tries to not linger on the negative feelings for too long. He'll encourage the boys to get back on their feet and moving. Movement means more blood circulation, and less of a reminder of the stiff puppets the kids almost turned out to be. Vargas never vocalizes his intentions for fear that him having a negative outlook might influence his students. So instead, he wears a grin and belts out a hearty laugh to keep their spirits high.
Sam will listen to his customers' woes, just as any good shopkeep would! There's a lot of useful information to pick apart from the people who drift in. A strange business like Playful Land? It piques Sam's interest in the mysterious and the unknown--he's delighted with such fantastical tales, and invites his customers to tell more. Sam's always here to lend an ear! And hey, if you get thirsty from all the gabbing, why not buy a drink from the Mystery Shop since you're already there? :)
Crowley wipes his brow and sighs in relief... What could have been a massive PR nightmare was just narrowly avoided!! (He still crows at the students that snuck off though, since he's suuuuuch a caring instructor that deeply cares about their education!!)
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pacifymebby · 10 months
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Hello❤️ if your requests were still open I was wondering if you'd do peaky blinders headcannons for some of the blinders (it doesn't have to be all if you don't want to do them all) but for them and a female reader who they get put into an arranged marriage with and after they get married they find out she already has a baby or young child? You totally don't have to do it if you don't want to or aren't comfortable with it!! I blame the idea on my current baby fever 😂😂 You're amazing and I hope you're doing well❤️❤️
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Tommy
🌿 Going to be surprised but quietly impressed you kept it from him so well. He did his research into you and nothing about a baby came up.
🌿He will however be angry with you and your family because you weren't honest with him. He won't confrobt you immediately however you will notice the change in his mood. How cold and harsh he is to you. You don't know it but every time he shoots you one of those icy unforgiving stares, he's contemplating going to war with your family over it.
🌿At first he believes you have betrayed him, he sees it as your family trying to insult his family.
🌿Won't feel sorry for you despite knowing you didn't want to be married to him. You had the opportunity to be honest with him and for whatever reasons you lied to him too.
🌿However, there's no screaming or shouting, he doesn't threaten you. Honestly every time he looks at you he thinks he could hit you, thinks he could kill you and each deceitful bastard family member you have. The only reason he doesn't is because he doesn't want to act without knowing the truth.
🌿He's angry because someones tricked him, it doesn't matter that its you, doesn't matter the lie, he's just angry someone managed to trick him and every time he looks at you he feels that nauseating rage build inside him... And its because of this he can't confront you. He can't risk being deceived again...
🌿So he has to bide his time, the whole time treating you so cold and unforgiving. He hardly says a word to you, won't stop fixing you with that hateful glare... You feel so alone in that big house and you cry yourself to sleep every night. Tommy watches as you pale and thin and he doesn't feel a shred of guilt because until he learns the truth about you he believes that this is the bed you've made for yourself. That you deserve misery.
🌿But then he does learn the truth. He fibds out exactly why you have that baby, what happened to you, why your family were so keen to sell you down the river and marry you off to any old birmingham criminal they could.
🌿Suddenly he feels terribly guilty, he feels like a fucking fool and suddenly all that anger directed at you will be turned in on himself. He's made a fucking horrible mess of your life and he has things he needs to fix, but the first thing he does is call you into his office...
🌿You're terrified, literally trembling as you stand opposite him barely able to look him in the eyes. You worked out weeks ago that he must know about the child and now you're terrified of what he's going to say to you. You know he isnt affraid of killing, for a moment you're terrified he's hurt your baby...
🌿Before he's even said a word you've crumbled, your sob catching in your throat and then bursting from your chest untameable. He feels his heart break to look at you, you're distraught and in part he knows its his fault for being such a cruel bastard.
🌿 He stands up, let out a small sigh and approaches you carefully. When he touches you you flinch and cry harder and it breaks his heart.
🌿 With his hands on your shoulders trying to guide you into a hug he will apologise to you, "S'alright love, I know what happened yeah, know what they've done to you angel, you're safe now and always will be... Know about your baby too but don't..."
🌿"I'm sorry Tommy, don't hurt her please! I'm so fuckin sorry I... I..." you try your best but you just choke on your apology and can't get the words out. You're trembling in his arms when he finally pulls you in against his chest.
🌿"Hush y/n, shh, it's alright now, alls forgiven, you don't need to say anythin now yeah, alls forgiven..."
🌿He will apologise to you there and then, holding you so tenderly, his arms around you, his thumb stroking your shoulder, his chin resting in your hair as he rocks and calms you carefully.
🌿"S'alright angel, s'alright, no ones hurting your little girl I promise... I understand that we lie sometimes eh? We do bad things to protect ourselves and the ones we love, so I understand why you lied to me alright, I do..."
🌿 "All is forgiven now and I'm gonna bring your little one home yeah, gonna bring her home to her mam and dad but I ask one thing of you yeah, just this one thing angel, you an me we're married now, husband and wife, and we may not have married for love but we made those vows before god and so we must keep them, to have an to hold, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish... Now I promised you those things and I intend to keep my promise... All I ask of you is that you be honest with me now yeah? No more lies, only truth..."
🌿He'll tell you that he wants to help you, wants to help you get your little girl back, wants to help you get revenge on all the people who have wronged you. He'll offer to make sure you never have to see your father who split you and the baby up, sold you off to an evil man.
🌿 "There there y/n, it's all alright now, I know you're a good girl, know you didn't want any of this, an I bet you've been so scared all this time eh? Terrified of everythin thats happened, no one to talk to about it... Terrified of me too?" he'll be stroking his fingers through your hair, holding you so delicately that its impossible for you to remember why you were ever scared of him. "Well you ain't gonna be scared anymore sweetheart... I promise, you ain't ever gonna be scared no more."
🌿He really will keep his promise, the Shelbys are a family of misfits and he'll welcome you and the child into the heart of the family. He'll raise your little girl as his own, and will probably insist upon lying to the child so that she doesn't have to know the true evils of her real father... Not that Tommy thinks hes any less bad really.
🌿He spoils your little girl rotten too, she's a real daddy's girl. He knows the darkness she was born of and into and wants to give her everything all little girls deserve, a good life with no rain. He also probably remembers little Ruby and views your daughter as the second chance he never thought he'd get.
🌿And though you may have been scared of him to begin with, the care, generosity and devotion he shows you leave you weak at the knees and almost dependent on him. You think the sun shines out of him and see him as your only hope in a dark world, the man who offered you kindness and forgiveness when you needed it the most. He picked you up off your feet when you were vulnerable and held you like a little bird with a broken wing. You won't hear a bad word said against him.
🌿You definitely do grow to love him and I believe he grows to love you too, what starts as him trying to do the right thing becomes this mutual respect and admiration, becomes adoration the more he gets to know you, how sweet and kind and good you are. He probably also appreciates your intelligence and understanding which you gained from having such a dark start in life.
Alfie
🐻 Isn't against arranged marriages when it comes to keeping Jewish women safe with Jewish men... Especially when there are so many predatory Shelby esque cunts out there who would take advantage of the young and naive. However, Alfie is against arranged marriages when its "marrying your terrified young daughter off to a mean old man to make peace with a rival gang..." which is what this is...
🐻 So he doesn't want to marry you and honestly doesnt have much respect for your parents who he thinks essentially traded you in for a few quid.
🐻 When your father had come to him, offering his daughter as a bride to clear his debts, Alfie really had considered shooting the cunts head clean off. The only reason he hadn't was the thought of you...
🐻 He'd seen you around Camden Town a few times, you worked in the bakery he often walked by and from what he remembered you were far too young for your father to be offering you up like that. You were practically still a child...
🐻 And that's why he accepted the offer. Because he knew that if he didn't you'd end up getting roped into all kinds of awful things by your shameless fuck of a father... There were other, less respectable ways a man could sell his daughter to clear his debts and he could tell just by having looked at you that those things would kill you.
🐻 On the day before your wedding, the first day he gets to speak to you he gives you this little speech. He comes to see you before you are married, which is bad luck in all cultures but apparently a wide soread myth among Jewish communities, which is exactly what he tells you when you try to hide yourself away from him.
🐻 "Now trust me zieskiet, see these," he'd tap his eye glasses and push them slightly down his nose as he looks at you seriously, "I only wear em when I need to read somet very carefully, and before I came to see you today I tripple checked right because I wouldn't want to do anything to give you anymore rotten luck eh, think you've had quite enough if that eh, can't get much worse than this here deal you've already been dealt can it? Now... Its a technicality perhaps but, it ain't mentioned anywhere in Talmudic literature yeah, neither any medieval writings what I could find either yeah... Its what you'd call a myth zieskiet... And that poppet, is very lucky because I've got a few things I'd like to say to you now yeah, just a few important things alright?"
🐻 He'd pull out a chair and gesture for you to sit down, this is Alfie we're talking about, even he knows he isn't going to be quick about this.
🐻 But he talks really gently to you, very seriously, but very gently.
🐻 "Right then, yeah, a few things I need to say to you now the night before our wedding day, our wedding day which is tomorrow yeah..."
🐻 "I know you're scared of me, don't blame you to be honest, I'd be scared, no, fucking terrified if someone told me I had to marry this mean old man yeah... Cause its true ain't it, I am mean, and I am old yeah, but I ain't ever gonna be mean to you,"
🐻 "Actually darlin whats gonna happen is this yeah, tomorrow when we have our nissu'in right, and then every day and night after that for the rest of our shared life together, I'm gonna look after you yeah, gonna take good care of you an thats a promise right?" the whole time hes talking you're just looking back at him speechless, a little confused and very very uncertain because you've heard so many terrying things about this man, that he's insane, that he's ruthless... And lets face it he isn't exactly coming off sane right now...
🐻 "This here right now yeah, this is me Alfie Solomons promising you y/n l/n that I'm gonna take proper care of you yeah, I ain't gonna hurt you, ain't gonna be cruel alright, won't force you to do anything you don't want to do... I don't expect you to fall in love with this ugly mug of mine yeah, I ain't gonna force you..." he looks right into your eyes then, holding both your hands in his, so serious that you have to trust him. You can see he isn't lying but it only makes you more nervous because you knew he wouldn't be promising you these things if he knew about the terrible deception your family were tryibg to pull off behind his back.
🐻 You feel so guilty then, you hadn't at first because you'd believed him to be just as bad as your father and brothers who were forcing you into this situation. The ones who had taken your child from you and threatened you with her life if you dared tell a soul.
🐻 But this man is so different from all the stories you'd heard, he's being so kind to you. The first man who has been kind to you for quite awhile. And you're still so naive, you want to trust him so badly, you want to believe you really don't need to be scared...
🐻 When Alfie sees the tears escape your eyes he doesnt understand, he thinks he's done something wrong and he panics and drops to his knees holding your hands and looking up at you, desperate to sooth you, he can't believe he's gone and made it worse.
🐻 "What's the matter poppet, what have I said?" but you just shake your head and try to hide your face in your hands scared to tell him the truth, your voice shaking when the words leave your lips. "Theres... Theres a child... A baby..." for a moment he thinks you're telling him you really are only a child and he launches into another speech about how its alright, he's only marrying you to save you from being married off to someone else...
🐻 "Zieskiet, stop crying little one, stop now eh, shh, I just told you didn't I, my only intention is to look after you, so you're only a littlen right you can stay a littlen I ain't gonna force you to be a woman yeah, I'm gonna..." "No!" you sob then, shaking and completely distraught and panicked then because he doesn't understand and he's not listening, "I'm not a child Mr Solomons, I have a child! I've a baby girl and... And... Oh god they're going to kill us both if I tell anyone and now I've told you, they're... My poor girl..." you cry into your hands, Alfie just watching you completely dumbfounded.
🐻 If he thought he lacked respect for your father before he has none left now. Now he really does wish he'd blown the cunts head off...
🐻 He sighs, takes your hands from your eyes and holds them in his, stroking your palms with his thumbs as he speaks.
🐻 "Now see, none of what you've just said yeah, none of that changes anythin of what I've just said... Everything I promised you just now yeah, all of that still stands, seems to me little zieskiet that you are a very scared, very sad little girl yeah, you and your baby need someone to take care of you both alright, someone who will keep you both safe and sound right and that someone yeah, that someones me..."
🐻 He can't hide the disgust at finding out you're a mother, you're so young... how the fuck have you got a child... He has his suspicions however and vows that after the wedding, when he has both you and your little one safe and sound, he'll pay your father another visit... Find out the truth once and for all, set a few things straight, get a little revenge.
🐻 He'll be so gentle with you, will take the baby in and let everyone believe it's his. He will take such good care of both of you. He probably won't even ask many questions of you if he gets the impression that you don't want to talk about what you've been through.
🐻 He'll ask if the father was a good man or not but he's already maade his mind up that unless the mans dead he cant be good cause he abandoned you and your daughter.
🐻 He never really thought he'd be a father, never thought he'd have a family... Always blamed it on his line of work, that it was better to be lonely and not risk losing anyone you loved, but he likes the family he's got now. Actually he loves them.
🐻 He has a fatherly protective sense of duty towards you both and you look to him as your saviour, the only person in the world you'll ever trust. He's so gentle and kind to you, and has demonstrated on more than one occasion that he'd kill and be killed for you and your little girl... That despite that "ugly mug" which you don't actually find ugly at all by the way, you can't help but want him as yours.
🐻 Its one of those "plenty of time to fall in love after the wedding" situations. Over time you adore him and want nothing more than to devote yourself to him.
🐻 Alfie will be such a good father. Sure it will be in that classic grumpy old man kind of way, always fretting about you and the baby, wanting to provide for you both, worrying about your safety, worrying that you'll get sick, worrying that you're not happy etc... He will be totally devoted to you, he'll grow to love the child as if she's his own and he'll love you too.
🐻 And he'll stand by his promise too, he doesn't force you to love him, doesn't force you to be intimate with him, and the first time you kiss him he's so stunned by your delicate fingers tracing the scar on his cheek that he blushes. When your lips touch his he puts a finger to your lips abd reminds you again, "zieskiet you don't have to pretend what did I tell you..."
🐻 "Fuck what you told me I ain't pretending nothin..."
Arthur
🍂 Tommy is forcing Arthur to get married because he thinks it'll force him to get over Linda. His brother thinks it will force him to get his head together once and for all and he pitches the deal to arthur as a clean slate, a fresh start with a pretty face.
🍂 But arthurs a bit uneasy about it, he doesn't believe for a second that anyone would ever want to marry him. No one in there right mind at least.
🍂 "And this girl eh brother... What's wrong with her that she's agreein to all this..." "I don't know what you mean brother..." says Tommy trying to feign naivety, but he knows what Arthurs getting at and knows his brothers skirting close to the truth.
🍂 "You know what I mean Tommy don't get stupid with me brother, you're the clever one ain't you... I've got a reputation haven't I... Now who the fucks giving their daugther away to a fuckin monster like me..."
🍂 And he's right about that reoutation, you are absokutely petrified of him. On your wedding day you're shaking and you can't keep the tears from your eyes. You do well to hold most of them back but Arthur sees them caught in your lashes. You look so sad and so scared and it hurts him to see you like that, knowing he's the root of that fear.
🍂You seem so gently and sweet, so timid. When you say your vows your voice is so wuiet, you're like a littke mouse or a baby bird. So pretty abd shy.
🍂 And Arthurs not exactly s genlte man, he's clumsy and awkward and he's always louder than he means to be, and somehow your shyness only makes that worse. He feels even clumsier and rougher around you and he's so painfully selfconcious because he doesn't want to scare you at all.
🍂 So he has to try and show you his soft side, which he isn't sure he actually has. He tries to ask Tommy for advice but his brother doesn't take him seriously, just shrugs and laughs him off, tells him "if you're so scared of the girl you don't have to speak to her at all... Consumate your marriage and never speak to her again..." but that thought horrifies Arthur who shakes his head and gets frustrated, "Nah, nah Tommy that ain't right, thats fuckin cruel Tom..."
🍂 So he asks Ada who laughs at him but, because she feels sorry for you - she remembers how scared you look the day you got married - she does her best to offer her brother some advice, advice about minding his coarse language, not raising his voice, not knocking furniture over or breaking olates when he's drunk and angry.
🍂 And polly gives him some advice too, about how to hold a hand without squeezing too tight, about how to touch a woman's cheek delicately, how to brush her hair behind her ear without poking her in the eye or making her flinch...
🍂 Arthur takes this advice very seriously and tries so so hard to be a gentleman to you. He really tries not to swear, really tries not ti get drunk or angry. But just as things are starting to work out between you, just as you both stop being so timid around one another he finds out about the baby.
🍂 He gets jumped outside the Garrison by some scratty bastard claiming Arthur Shelby stole his son.
🍂 His first response is anger, naturally. He's absolutely livid that you didnt tell him. He's spent all this time being careful with you, trying so hard to be a good man for you and all this time you've been lying to him, keeping this massive secret. And not just from him either... you didnt tell tonmy and its a betrayal of trust, you've not just insulted him but his whole family...
🍂 He doesn't know what to do, he completely panics because he's going to have to carry this shame to his brother, his brother who will probably kill you and your family for deceiving the Shelbys.
🍂 However, a lot of his anger is down to panic... You have a child, a whole fucking child! Have you been expecting him to be a father to that child this whole time? He isn't cut out for that, he ain't cut out to be a fucking dad...
🍂 He takes a lot of his anger out on the cunt claiming to be the father of your child, he doesnt stop to work out if any of its lies, just throws himself at the bastard because this man isn't pleasant and he's socked Arthur in the jaw and started making all these nasty threats... So all that anger and fear, all the hatred and betrayal, he takes it out on this stupid bastard, beating him within an inch of his life.
🍂 He doesnt kill him though because he needs to know if hes telling the truth about being the lads dad... Your man...
🍂 When he confronts you you get so so scared... You back away trying to put a safe distance between you and Arthur who has just stumbled in covered in blood, wreaking of the drink.
🍂And then when he tells you about the man who jumped him, when you hear what Arthurdid you start crying and suddenly Arthur gets worried, has he potentially killed this man you love? Will you ever forgive him, will you be scared of him for the rest of your miserable lives together... Has he doomed you both to suffer eachother in hate and fear forever?
🍂 But then you throw your arms around him and he realises you're crying tears of relief. That you're holding onto him so tightly, just saying "Thank you, oh thank god, thank you Arthur, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have lied to you I just didn't know what to do, I was so scared, oh god thank you... Know i shouldnt be happy but i am."
🍂 He's confused as fuck tbh, doesnt know what to make of it, struggles to stand there and hold you because he isn't very good with crying women and you're utterly hysterical. He awkwardly puts his arns around you, oats you on the back and just kind of waits for you to explain...
🍂 "ere love don't cry eh, calm down sweetheart, ain't gonna solve anythin cryin like this are ye..." He's awkward, blushing and a little embarrassed, doesn't know what to do and feels totally helpless.
🍂 When you do explain everything, that you were never married to the man, that he ain't your man at all and never was, but that it is his kid and the reason your parents gave you up to Arthur is because they were so frightened of the man that they knew you needed to leave ur city, go somewhere with dangerous people who could keep u safe etc..." Arthur just listens completely baffled, getting more confused but also more upset as the story goes on. He's uoset for you and the more you tell him youre sorry, the more you beg his forgiveness and tell him you didn't mean to use him, didn't mean to cause any trouble, that they didnt give you a choice just packed you off in the middle of the night... The more certain Arthur becomes that he has to stand by you. He remembers your timid delicate face the day of your wedding, the tears in your eyes, the lack of family with you in the church... He realises that this has all been one long nightmare for you and that your fate rests on him. That he can choose to help you or doom you to a life of misery.
🍂In the end he's relieved too, he chuckled nervously and tells you that all considered he's glad he fucked the guy up as bad as he did. "Only fuckin sorry I didn't kill him... If I ever see that bas... Sorry, if I ever see him again I promise you love I will..."
🍂 "You're family now eh love, my family you and the baby and I'll do me best to be a good husband and a fuckin good father too, know I'm not really a good man but I promise you I'll do me best..."
🍂 Will admit he doesnt know what hes doing and you'll say lets face it, his own dads not exactly an angel...
John
🌼 We already know that John isn't going to be happy about the idea of an arranged marriage, especially not one orchestrated by his brother to make peace with a rival gang.
🌼 He will throw a strop when Tommy tells him, he'll be livid, accusing him of treating him like a child, "always fuckin controllin us all whenre you gonna get bored of playing the fuckin puppet master eh?"
🌼 Stupid and pissed off enough to try and start a physical fight with him, shoves him hard and has to be held back by Arthur, who has to try and be balanced. He isn't really in agreement with the situation either but he doesn't want to see John do anything stupid, and he knows that if John hits his brother again Tommy will come down full force on the lad.
🌼 So John will be dragged by his heals to the altar, he's still grumbling when they arrive at the field your wedding is to be held in. He's wearing a real school boy scowl when Arthur and Finn push him up to stand with beside you. He can't see you but you can see him through the veil which covers your face and the sight of his sullen expression strikes fear in you. He looks so angry, he looks like all those bad stories you've heard about the Peaky Blinders might actually be true...
🌼 But when the veil is taken from your face and John sees you for the first time everything changes... You're so pretty, with the soft earthy features, your eyes so emotive, a real deer look about you as you gaze back at him a little shyly...
🌼 Something about your pretty face and your soft features sooths him, calms his temper and suddenly he isn't so sulky anymore. Suddenly he's wearing a shy smile of his own, looking at you like he can't quite believe his luck.
🌼 When the sermons being read and you're both waiting to make your vows, kneeling together at the altar John turns to you with a little smirk and nods, whispers "Hullo," his cheeky smile and the way he's whispering over the sermon makes you feel like a kid being naughty in class. You're blushing and biting back a cheeky smile of your own when you whisper "hello," back.
🌼 He can't help but flirt with you, he knows this should be terribly awkward and that you're probably really unhappy to be there being married off to some stranger with a criminal record but he can't help himself. Your smiles so pretty and once he's had a taste of it he keeps chasing it.
🌼 He's also a little embarrassed to have arrived so reluctantly to your wedding, feels like he's got a lot of making up to do...
🌼 He'll sense your awkwardness and want to put you at ease, he can tell that you're shy, can tell that you feel nervous and he'll want to make you relax. Now that he's seen you he isn't so annoyed to be being married off to you and he wants to show you he's not all that bad either.
🌼 So he's whispering pointless small talk to you throughout the sermon, making you smile and stifle a giggle, earning you reproachful looks from Johnny Dogs who is trying his best to recite the sermon without throttling John for not taking it seriously.
🌼 But John is all, "pleasure t'meet you," shooting you that boyish smirk, making eyes at you like its just you and him having some private joke...
🌼 But he sees your hand shaking when Johnny goes to cut your palms and mix your blood and John remembers that although he can make his jokes and tease and flirt with you, you're probably still petrified of the future that lies ahead. You probably don't want to be doing this at all.
🌼 So when he clasps your hand in his and your blood meets his blood he holds your gaze and leans in to mumble something to quietly, lips barely moving, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't be scared flower." Of course its all good and well saying it but how can he really help you, of course you're going to be scared...
🌼 So later when everyone else is drinking and dancing he takes you to one side, his hand on your waist and then when he realises he's probably being too intimate, snatching his hand away, scratching the back of his neck instead. "Listen y/n I'm really fuckin sorry about all this, know its probably not what you imagined for your wedding day..."
🌼 But honestly, you're not sad to be marrying John. You didn't have dreams of a big romantic wedding or a husband you fell in love with at first sight... But you think that seeing John at the altar that morning is as close to love at first sight as you could possibly get... Yes you were nervous, yes you were shy, scared about your future... But not because you were marrying John... Well, your trembling hand had been a little to do with John but not because you were scared of him...
🌼 So you blush and shake your head and try to tell him he doesn't need to apologise, "I like you John," you say imediately looking at the floor, a shy but cheeky smile on your lips as you stand on tiptoe, brave enough for a fleeting second that you stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek, leaving him blushing and speechless. "Really I do... I'm happy I got to marry you..."
🌼But John can tell that somethings not right, maybe you're not sad about the wedding or about marrying him but you're sad about him. He knows what sad girls look like, he saw many of them after the war and you look just as torn up as all those young widows...
🌼 Your little one is at your wedding, your mother is raising them, trying to pass them off as her own. And you've done well all day to pretend the little two year old is just a younger sister...
🌼 But John recognises your mothering instinct come out when the child runs over to hug you and you pick them up so lovingly. He can tell that you're not sisters, he can see that cherished look as you nuzzle your nose against hers. And he can tell by the tears in your eyes when you place her down on the ground and send her back to your mother. The way your gaze lingers as you watch her go, you look whistful, forlorn. Like a girl in mourning.
🌼 And Johns annoyed but not because you lied to him and not because he's just found out he's going to have another child on his hands. No, Johns annoyed that you were going to let your mother raise it, that you'd give up your kid just like that... Seemingly guiltless...
🌼But when he confronts you, umable to control his anger, snapping at you, growling the accusation at your through his teeth, breaking your heart because he's got it all wrong... You begin to cry, not hysterically but calmly. The tears running quietly down your cheeks as you look back at him with all this dissapointment in your eyes.
🌼 All day he's been so sweet you, sharing those conspiratorial smirks with you, as if you understood one another... Now you're worried he doesn't understand anything at all.
🌼 "I didn't want to... I don't, its fuckin breakin my heart to let her go... I don't have a fuckin choice they've... They..." you try to explain it to him, that your family forced you to give the baby up to your mother and let her raise it instead so that you wouldn't bring shame to the family, and so that Tommy wouldn't call off the engagement.
🌼 Then he has to swallow his anger, he doesn't want to see you crying and youre shivering there, sniffling in front of him all teary eyed, you're doing your best to stand up to him and he feels pretty guilty. His wife, standing up to him on her wedding night for fuck sake...
🌼 He gets angry with your family then, storming over to Tommy to tell him what they've put you through, to tell him what he thinks of his new in laws. He's suddenly very protective of you and he has this violent streak surface in him, he wants to hurt the people who have hurt you... So Tommy has to yank him to one side, him and Arthur trying to calm him.
🌼 "Its your fuckin weddin day John boy, you can't be fuckin fightin on your fuckin weddin day... Just take your girl and dance with her eh, like a fuckin man..."
🌼 So he does. He takes his girl, straight from her grandmother's arms, picks her up and kisses her forhead, asking her if she'd like to come for a dance with her mammy. The three of you will dance together, him carrying her on his hip as he slow dances with you both. Its a really touching scene but its passive aggressive too and when he locks eyes with your father he's making a threat which is received loud and clear.
🌼 He will make a huge point of openly accepting the child. he'll roll his eyes and nod to the family all self aware and apologetic, welcome to the family I guess.
🌼 That kids going to have so many brothers and sisters to run wild with. You'll actually have a really happy family.
🌼 John won't ask about the dad because hes got plenty of kids of his own and he knows how it works, you don't always love their parents but you love the kids. You'll be worried that he isn't bothered, you'll take it as him not caring about you or the child and when you ask him why he isn't bothered, why he isn't angry? he'll just shrug and say that he does care, you can tell him whatever you want whenever you like...
🌼 "Just don't see the point in dredge up the past when we're happy now," he'll say kissing your cheek, "got a good little family haven't we flower, we're happy ain't we? Why bother about anythin else eh?"
Bonnie
🍀 Bonnie is definitely the most heartbroken of the Peaky boys to find he's being married off to a stranger. He's sad to be being forced into an arranged marriage because he's always harboured dreams of meeting the love of his life, his soulmate and now he knows he'll never get the chance.
🍀 And he feels bad for you too because the chances are you're being robbed of the same thing. He's a romantic soul and it feels bleak and grey to be being robbed of love, the chance to fall in love.
🍀 He also knows that the nature of his life means you'll have to leave everything behind, travel with him and the family and that you'll really be alone in it all. He'll have his family still, not a lot will change for him, but you're being forced to leave everything behind, forced to go it alone and Bonnie is empathetic enough to know how much that will hurt you, how scared you will be...
🍀So he feels guilty too, guilty to be putting you through his own idea of hell.
🍀He is however determined to make the best of it, to be a friend to you if nothing else... He's such a sweet boy and he can't stand the thought of you being uncomfortable... He can't stand the thought that he might be ruining your life or breaking your heart. He's scared that you're going to be scared of him. From the moment he finds out he's to be married to you, to the day you finally meet Bonnie is preocupied worrying about the mystery girl he's to wed. Worrying you will hate him, worrying he won't be good enough, worrying you'll be scared... He's really scared that you'll be one of these girls who cries at the altar or tries to run away... Not that he could blame you for either, he just hates the thought that he could be playing a part in some innocent lassies misery.
🍀 He's a bit cyncial too, about where youre coming from... You can't have a particularly good family if they're giving you up to their enemies to "make peace" he thinks thats all wrong, he thinks they can't possibly love you or care about you very much if they're willing to hand you over to the people they hate most... People they call savages. He knows that if he had a daughter this would be the last thing he'd do to her. That if he had a daughter this was the sort of situation he'd want to protect her from...
🍀So before he's even met you he has all these complicated thoughts and feelings about you. He's been wondering about you for days on end.
🍀 On the day of your wedding hes taken back by how beautiful you look, so pretty all in white...He's genuinely stunned and when you remove your veil from your face with your delicate fingers Bonnie is held hypnotised by your grace. You're fae like, something ethereal about you in the misty morning light. He can't take his eyes off you and when your palms are cut and its time for Bonnie to take your hand in his he is too distracted gazing at your eyes that he misses his cue. Johnny Dogs has to press your hands together himself clipping him round the back of the ear for being daft.
🍀You're very shy, when Bonnie forgets to take your hand you bite down hard on your lip to hide your smile. You can barely look at him and struggle to hold his gaze. Bonnie thinks its because you're scared of him, or dissapointed by him but its not, its the opposite... You think he's lovely actually.
🍀 Sure you've heard about the Peaky Blinders fighter but the stories you've heard about a savage assassin just don't match up to this sweet brown eyed boy kneeling beside you, holding your hand clasped tightly in his.
🍀 Bonnie isn't sure how to act around you, he feels awkward, he feels shy too because actually you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen and he's sure that the only way he was ever going to end up with a lass as lovely as you was if someone fuckin forced it.
🍀 When Johnny tells him to kiss his bride Bonnie hesitates, his hand hovers by your cheek, his thumb brushing your blushy skin as he freezes, shy but also worried... You have hardly even looked at him this whole time, maybe you don't like him, maybe you're wishing you could runaway afterall.
🍀"C... Can I kiss ye?" he asks, his lips barely an inch from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want nothing more than for him to close the gap between you. When your lips meet you feel that nervous but sweet flip in your stomach.
🍀Its this one moment of calm, this first telltsle sign of happiness and therefore its over too soon. Because when your eyes closed and his lips met yours your mind settled down, most of your anxieties hushed to a whisper. You would have enjoyed it had it not been for the secret you were keeping, the devestating truth you were being forced to keep hidden.
🍀 All throughout the wedding day Bonnie notices how you seem sad, more than that, you have this whistful, doomed look about you. He puts it down to you being sad about the arranged marriage and keeps telling you he's sorry you've had to do this...
🍀 "I know this ain't what you want y/n and it don't have to be like that between us you know, don't have to be like husband and wife between us if you don't want it... Won't be angry with you for that so don't worry, just let me be your friend eh, don't be lonely y/n, I'm your friend I promise..."
🍀 Throught the day he keeps trying to cheer you up, he's so sweet to you and dotes on you completely, in fact he hardly leaves you alone not wanting for you to be overwhelmed by his family and the peaky boys who are here... Still, his acts of kindness though they touch you, though they make you smile and blush, though you even giggle once at one of his daft jokes, don't really work cheering you up and Bonnie feels terrible because he can't help you. You still seem devestated.
🍀 It gets worse when you ask how long they'll be staying near Birmingham and he has to tell you that they're not. They stayed a day later just for the wedding, the vardos are moving on first thing in the morning and when he tells you you get choked up, your eyes are wide and white... You look terrified.
🍀 Again naive, bonnie puts that down to your fear of him and his family. Your fear of being alone with him, he tries to reassure you, tries to let you know he's there for you, that he'll be your friend, but before he can say much at all you've fled.
🍀 The parties in full swing now and other people are drunk enough not to notice you slip leave, only Bonnie watches you go, standing there helpless and a little heartbroken to watch you running away from him.
🍀You're not running away however, you're running to...
🍀You have to try to find your wee girl, shes with the church in small heath where your parents forced you to leave her that morning.
🍀You're demanding her back but they wont give her up, telling you that you made your decision, shaming you for being a whore... For giving up your child, for having her in the first place... You're desperate, on your knees in tears on the church steps, sobbing your heart out but the priests no sympathy for a wayward girl like you...
🍀When bonnie watches you go at first he doesnt know what to do, hes so scared, he wants to find you, to make sure youre safe... He knows there'll be trouble if your family realise what youve done.
🍀 So he corners your brother and forces him to tell him whats going on. He's clever about it, lies to find out the truth, makes a couple of wild guesses which pay off... Tommy Shelby would be impressed.
🍀 "Listen to me alright mate, that girls been heartbroken about somethin all day..." he hisses, his eyes burning with a fury he doesn't quite understand, "she just told me everything so don't even bother trying to lie about it eh, think your family's done enough lying for one day..." "Whats she told you?" the brother looks pissed off and when he sighs he's fed up, glancing nervously over his shoulder like he doesn't want to get caught. "Theres someone else..." says Bonnie, his voice shaking a little, he doesnt want it to be true, he doesnt want you to be in love with someone else because if you are you'll resent him. The chance of even a friendship for you both dashed on the rocks.
🍀But the brother just sighs and shakes his head, tells him not to cause a scene, "you're gonna be pissed but let's not fight about it here eh, for me sister, your brides sake eh..."
🍀 The brother tells him about the church and the baby and before he can tell you anything else, about the father or the circumstances that have brought you here, bonnie is running off to find you.
🍀He takes Isaiah and Finn with him to the church because for as much as he too is a catholic, a good one at that, he doesn't trust those churches and priests who he thinks have warped the religion for their own gains.
🍀And thats where he finds you, in a heap on the church steps still hammering on the door trying to get in.
🍀When he sees the mess youre in, when he finds out what they've done all his suspicions are confirmed and he's livid. Not just angry however but heartbroken for you because he knows you're younger than him and he can't believe the suffering you've been put through at the hands of the church and your family.
🍀 "And we're the savages?" he smirks to Finn when they pass you and enter the church by "order of the peaky blinders."
🍀 He gets your wee girl back, goes straight in, threating them. "Wheres my fuckin daughter?" "You had no right to take my fuckin daughter away! No fuckin right..."
🍀 And the church know a peaky blinder when they see one so they hand her over to him immediately. The moment he lays eyes upon her he knows he's going to be her father, knows he's going to raise her as if she were one of his very own. He feels an overwhelming sense of duty to protect her and it brings a tear to his eyes.
🍀 Always wanted a little girl and hes already decided to devote himself to her and to you. He can see that you need someone to be good to you and he's made that vow now, your bloods have been mixed, so he has a duty to you. Maybe he won't have that romantic falling in love he'd always secretly hoped for but that doesn't mean he can't try to love you and your little girl as best as he can.
🍀He gives her to you and when you burst into further tears he doesn't know what to do. He's not used to seeing girls so unhappy xnot like this anyway. He's seen his sisters cry over boys and arguments before but he's never seen a lass so distressed.
🍀 "Oh mary thank you thank you," you're sobbing, your body shaking with relieved sobs. Bonnie sitting down beside you trying to hush you and calm you. Making you all these promises to look after you both. "Shh sweetheart, its alright now dove, you're both safe now, I'm gonna take care of you you both from now on dove, I swear it on my life," he says taking your palm in his, kissing the cut which is healing from earlier that day.
🍀Takes you both home, promises you he's going to look after you both. "We're family now love, one that looks after one another, you're never gonna be sad or scared again I promise..." of course being a peaky blinder thats a promise he can't keep, but he'll say anything to reassure you in that moment.
🍀 You're going to be so won over by how loving and caring hes been, you went through something intense that night and got through it together. He saved your life and your wee girls life, you're so certain of that and as a result you feel so close to him. You really trust him, which is something you haven't been able to say about anyone for a long time.
🍀 You will probably talk about that day many times over the years, Bonnie will confess all of his naive hopes that he thought had been stolen from him that day, you'll both share how sad you were, how scared you were that you wouldn't ever know love. And then you'll smile and hold eachother, happy with the knowledge that even if you weren't destined for one another you've still found love.
🍀Your wee girl is going to have like 10 siblings sorry.
Isaiah
🐀You're more pissed off than him, you're so angry and you fight with your parents, you fight with his family, youre cold and so fucking bitter to him.
🐀The morning they tell you you do nothing but scream, you hit your father, beating at him furiously, you feel betrayed by him, by your mother who does nothing but stand sobbing weakly.
🐀And the person you hate the most is Isaiah... When he tries to talk to you, when he tries to tell you "I didn't fuckin ask for this either did I y/n!" you just get angrier, you shove him away, you try to run away.
🐀"What the fuck would you agree to something like this for? Who the fuck do u think you are... You think you should get to own me... I don't even fuckin know you and you're calling me your fuckin wife!"
🐀And Isaiah does feel a little guilty, this isn't exactly what he wanted either... But your temper is foul and you're doing nothing to contradict what he was told about you. That you'd grown wild, that you'd the devil in you, that you needed taming. He gets frustrated with you, annoyed that you can't see that this is bad for both of yous, not just you. Sometimes he wants to shake you and yell in your face, "You think this is what I wanted do you love? You ever stop to think I might have had a sweetheart of my own eh? You think I wanted to be stuck with a sour bitch like you for the rest of me life?"
🐀Sometimes when you are screaming at him he almost does say those things. But he's under orders from his father and Tommy Shelby to treat you right, theres an important alliance in the balance and if he loses his temper with you he could ruin everything. But you don't make it easy, you're angry at your situation and you're taking all that hurt and anguish out on him...
🐀When he finds out about the baby things get worse... All this time you had a way out, a way to annul the marriage and kept it from him. He's so angry with you but he feels like now you're even. You've been hating him this whole time, being truly evil to him, and now its his turn to be mad. He has a right to lose his temper now. He has a right to say all the horrid things he's been thinking about you all this time, your resentment for one another building.
🐀When he confronts you about it you have a huge, messy fight in which your whole backstory is carelessly hung out for all to see. You're screaming at him, hysterical, how dare he lose his temper with you for this...
🐀"This is your fuckin fault so don't blame me for keepin it secret, I had to keep it secret!! What would you have done eh, you and your Peaky fuckin Blinders! Don't blame me!" Don't blame me? You're the one who couldn't keep her fuckin legs closed love! "" Fuck you! Don't you dare talk about me like that, don't you fuckin dare speak about me like that! I'm your fuckin wife!"
🐀And when you say that he snatches your wrist in his, you'd raised your hand to slap him but now he's squeezing your wrist so tight it hurts, he's forcing your hand down onto the kitchen table, backing you up against it until you can feel the edge of the table digging into your back...
🐀"Aye," he says, his voice low and spitting, his eyes so unforgiving, "some fuckin wife you are eh sweetheart..." everything he says comes out a threat and suddenly you feel so small, so vulnerable. He's right up in your face, his hand still squeezing your wrist tight.
🐀"Some fuckin wife sleepin around and lying to me, you let me marry you! I didn't fuckin want you... You could have fuckin stopped it... I didn't want you..."
🐀And that cuts you so deep. You didnt want him either but having him stare you down oike that, each word slashing at you, full of vitriol... It hurts, brings tears to your eyes because you both know you're stuck together, he's saying these things to you now so plainly, so spitefully, knowing he can't take them back, knowing you'll have to face them for the rest of your life...
🐀"What're you crying for now eh, fuckin stop crying girl, don't start cryin now like I'm breakin your heart! You're the one whose breakin mine for fuck sake... A fuckin baby y/n, why the fuck would you keep that secret eh?" "I mean it love stop fuckin cryin, you made this fuckin bed you're gonna fuckin lie in it..."
🐀When you snatch your wrist free and flee from him, you run away without even taking a jacket. You're half blind from your crying, not paying any attention to where you're going as you tear through the Birmingham streets desperate to get away from him. Away from all the Peaky Blinders and the fucking nightmare world they live in.
🐀Isaiah shouts after you, he's angry but not just with you anymore. Angry with himself for letting you go, for letting you run away into the dangerous night without so much as a coat to shield you from the rain. He runs his hands over his cheeks and curses himself, curses you too for being so wild. Now he knows you've the devil in you. You're nothing but a terror head to toe.
🐀But he has to go after you, god knows what could happen to you out there on your own. If he doesn't find you someone else might and though you may think he's cruel, theres plenty more cruel out there and he knows it.
🐀So he searches for you all night on his own, too ashamed if having scared you away to ask his friends for help. He feels almost imasculated by the whole situation, what kind of man lets his wife run away from him like that...
🐀When he finds you you're drunk in some shithole pub half way across the city, its taken him hours and hes soaked through from being out in the rain all night. It's kicking out time and you're the last person in there. Women aren't meant to drink alone but you know the lad behind the bar from your wilder days and he's been letting you stay...
🐀"Alright love, you've had your fun eh, time to come home yeah..." says Isaiah, approaching you. You flinch away from his touch and it hurts him the way you look at him with such fear. "No," you whimper, you look so scared of him and yet so determined to disobey, to remain your own woman. "Come on lass I mean it yeah, we had an argument yeah, you ran away, you got blind drunk and now its time to come home... We'll sort everything out at home, promise..." and he does mean it. He's no intention of screaming with you until the sun comes up.
🐀Whilst he was out looking for you he had a lot of time to reflect on everything thats come to pass between you. The way he sees things now this has been painful for both of you. Both of you have been forced to give up the futures you wanted, both of you are stuck together now... And you made those vows before god, you can't ever undo them, you can't break that oath because you made it to eachother and also to god. And if you've a baby then you have to raise it together. You have to try and get along otherwise you'll be miserable for the rest of your lives, thats no way to be together, no way to raise a child.
🐀He feels guilty for losing his temper, he should have been man enough to understand you, he should have been what you needed... Now he's found you thats what he wants to tell you. That things are going to change between you.
🐀But you haven't given up your fight and you start crying again the minute he puts his arm around you to help you up and walk you home. You're really sobbing, its almost theatrical and it imediately begins to wind him up again... Why can't you see he's really trying for you here?
🐀You're too drunk to walk and in the end he has to pick you up and carry you all the way home where he sits you down at the kitchen table, your head slumping onto your arm. You're a mess and he can't help but chuckle despairingly. How the fuck did he get here?
🐀Still, amid the bitterness and the resentment theres a tiny glimmer of affection, you're just a lass at the end of the day, a lass who's had too much to drink and upset herself. And he does think you're pretty, even when your eyes are all red from crying.
🐀He sighs, pulls the chair up beside you and takes your hand. You don't look up at him at first, your eyes pressed to your arm on the table, refusing to turn your head until he tells you again.
🐀"Fuck sake y/n look at me now eh, I'm tryna talk to you... We're grown ups ain't we... Look at me..." he sounds exhausted and you're exhausted too so you turn your head and he can't help but think you look quite cute in your sulk. Your cheek squished against your elbow, your big eyes watery and sullen looking up at him from where your heads resting on the table.
🐀"I'm your fuckin husband love whether you like it or i like it," he says with a sigh, he wants nothing more than to go to bed but he knows this is a fight which can't be slept on, "so you fuckin listen to me yeah, all this screamin and cryins gotta fuckin stop cause were stuck with eachother and it aint gonna be much of a life if we ain't at least civil eh..." "Uhuh..." suddenly you're a lass of few words, just glowering up at him, hearing him out though he's not sure you're really listening to him.
🐀"You ain't really been behaving like much of a wife girl, and I know I ain't a saint, haven't been much of a husband to you either have I... But thats gonna change now yeah, it fuckin has to change now cause we can't live like this forever... Can't raise a child if we're at each others throats all the time eh?"
🐀You sit up then, your eyes wide but hopeful, you clasp at his hand suddenly alert, really listening to him...
🐀Isaiah smiles when he sees the light return to your eyes. Its the first time he's seen you looking like that... Hopeful.
🐀He's terrified of having a child, so scared that the child will reject him, that they'll hate him for not being their real father... He's scared he'll do everything wrong, scared he'll be a bad example... But he knows that he can't refuse to raise a child because he's scared the kid won't like him... He knows he has to do the best he can for you and yoir little one.
🐀 "So tonight sweetheart, am gonna get you to bed an me and you are gonna go to sleep, no more fighting yeah?" "Uhuh," "Then in the morning you're gonna stay here, I'm gonna go find your littlen and bring em back to you, and then we're gonna raise it together yeah, husband and wife, mam and dad..."
🐀He puts you to bed and for once you let him help you get changed, you let him look after you and help you into your bed and when he's made sure youre settled he tries to get some sleep himself. He's anxious however and his heads so busy with all these worries about the baby, about whether he's cut out to be a dad, that he barely gets any sleep at all.
🐀However the next day when he fibds the child, a little boy, something in him changes. He doesn't take to fatherhood perfectly, he's awkward and he's still very anxious on the indside. But he sees this little boy who needs a father, who needs someone to step up for him, someone who's isn't afraid of anything, who can be confident and in control. He knows that that has to be him and so he does, he steps up because he doesn't have a choice, theres a little boy depending on him.
🐀And your little boy takes to him straight away, he looks up to Isaiah and its clear he thinks the sun shines out of him. Isaiah is kind of proud of that.
🐀And its through seeing how him and the son grow close that you begin to trust him and your anger and resentment mellows, replaced over time by a kind of respect. You admire him, you have to admit that its impressive the way he stepped up to your son when he could have just kicked you both out on the street.
🐀It isnt just the baby he's been trying hard for either, it's you too. He's been doing everything he can to be a caring husband to you and you feel yourself softening up to him over time.
🐀Your respect develops into a friendship, you both know you can rely on one another, that its the three of you now who are a family. It might not be a romantic love which blossoms between you but theres certainly a mutual trust and admiration, a platonic love.
🐀And that friendship twinned with the fact that hes undeniably attractive, makes you wonder what it would be like to have children with him... Whether your little family of three could grow...
🐀You sleep together every night, you act just as a husband and wife should but theres always a distance, Isaiah has been waiting for you to close it for a long time, and one night when he climbs into bed beside you in the early hours, he's been away all night on peaky business and you've been worrying about him all night... He thinks you're asleep when he rests his head on the pillow and you roll over, draping an arm around him, nuzzling into his neck. He only realises youre awake when you leave a kiss at the top of his spine.
Michael
☘️Words cannot truly describe the rage which floods Michaels body when Tommy informs him he's to be married. Not only dies he think it's completely fucking embarassing in this day and age, "the modern world ain't for things like this Tom!" he also believes Tommy is only doing it to sideline him, to punish him and put him in his "place" a place he knows in his heart he does not belong.
☘️ He fights Tommy over it, not as physically volatile as John but certainly still puts up a fight. He tries to spite him through business. He fucks up a couple of deals Tommy wanted him to make just to spite him... Naturally this only makes things worse.
☘️ "Fuckin meet her first at least Michael, who knows maybe it'll be love at first sight..." Tommy is taking the piss, rubbing salt in the wound because knows Michael knows theres nothing he can do. That in the end he has no choice but to do Tommys bidding.
☘️ "Knowing you you'll have picked some fuckin pig for me..." he grumbles, not realising how far from the truth that could be.
☘️ A meeting between you is organised, with Polly and your mother chaperoning. It's the only time you'll meet before the wedding day and you're so nervous. You're terrified that Michael will see you and change his mind, that he'll break off the engagement because you're not good enough. That you'll let your family down.
☘️ You're also scared because you know that Polly Gray has the sight, you know that if you meet her gaze even for a second she will see into your soul and discover all the secrets you're trying to hide. The dark past you're desperate to forget. Because you've already had your heart broken beyond repair.
☘️When Michael sees you he falters, his lips parting, stunned. You're nothing like the girl he'd imagined you would be. You're not deformed or ugly, not some old spinster or s fucking 12 year old being married off early for status. You're simply beautiful, just a girl who looks something close to his dream girl. You're pretty, a little shy, but your smile is sweet and your voice is soft when you say hello. And your eyes are deep and full of heart. Soulful eyes, the kind you don't see much of in Small Heath.
☘️Polly does your readings, this is a condition of your engagement and one you're very nervous about. If it was just any old gypsy crone pretending to read your cards and your palms then you wouldn't be worried. Anyone else would be easy to fool. Polly Gray however isn't a con woman, she really can see secrets. Your hands shaking when she turns it over in hers and traces her fingertip slow and delicate down your love line.
☘️ "Well Michael, I don't think you'll have any complaints with this one..." she says offering her son a knowing smirk, she didn't need to read palms to know that. One look at you and the way Michael was starring at you, was enough to tell her that Michael at least would be happy.
☘️ Polly tells you both then, holding your hand and Michaels in each of hers, acting as a link between you, "you must both try to forgive one another, you must forgive your families too, for what they're asking of you... If you can do this you will be happy together, theres much potential for love here..."
☘️Polly saw the child in those readings she did, but she doesn't say a word, not to you, not to Michael. Not even to Tommy who she knows will be furious. Because she didn't just see the child, she saw everything. She saw how you were knocked up by a man you believed really loved you, how he ran away and abandoned you. How you tried to keeo the baby secret but couldn't when you began to show... How it was your own parents who reported you to the social and accused you of being an unsuitable mother... Your baby was taken from you just as Pollys were and she can see that desperate heartbreak in your eyes. She doesn't need to read your cards to feel the grief which radiates from you.
☘️ So she keeps your secret, and you don't see Michael nor his mother until the day of your wedding. When you walk down the aisle towards Michael you're shaking, you're nervous, self concious of everyones eyes on you. You never imagined your wedding day to be like this, a church packed out with gypsies and criminals, ruthless gangsters watching your hips sway in your white dress.
☘️Michael is still angry with Tommy, he knows what his mother has said to him about forgiveness but he will never forgive his cousin for treating him like a child, for humiliating him by forcing him to do his bidding in such a public and old fashioned way.
☘️ So he hides his attraction to you, he acts sullen and takes his hatred for Tommy out on you. He's treats you so coldly, glaring at you as he makes his vows. You can feel the hatred radiating from him and your voice is shaking as you say your own vows. You want to cry, you're actually scared of him.
☘️ He does everything he's supposed as he is supposed to, kisses you, dances with you, but he's so removed and aloof, so quietly cruel, something about him makes you feel like ice. You feel so lonely as he dances with you, you want to cry.
☘️ Later you're drunk, drinking to try and nurse your fear and sorrow away. You'd hoped when Polly had taken both your hands in hers and told you that you were well matched, that potential for love might blossom in time... But now it seems you're doomed to live the rest of your life loathed by the man youve just married.
☘️ Polly joins you at the bar, slips her hand into yours and leads you away from the party outside. You sit side by side in the steps and she offers you a cigarette. When at first you shake your head, a little wary of the older woman she says, "Don't be silly girl, have a cigarette, look at you for gods sake, its clear you need one..."
☘️ So you let her light your cigarette for you and you do as she says taking a drag and enjoying the comfort of that first inhale. Pol was right, you needed that. "Thank you..." you say quietly but Polly has already moved on. "I know about your son," she says her voice low, at first she sounds perfectly calm, matter of fact, and your heart fills with fear, but when she carries on you hear her change, her voice thick with emotion.
☘️ "My god girl the things you've been through, the things those fucks put us through..." she's clasping your hand in hers, holding it tightly. When you look up at her in confusion her eyes are tearful and suddenly you understand.
☘️ "I'm so sorry love," she says holding your cheeks in her palms, her cigarette smouldering by your eyes. "Those bastards never fuckin tire... If I ever saw the man who stole my babies from me I'd kill him," she tells you and suddenly you're stuttering...
☘️ "But... But michael?" you ask and she nods, she smiles and dabs at her tears and suddenly she's that stoney fearsome woman once again. Wise beyond her years. She clasps your hands in hers and looks you dead in the eyes. "Yes love... I got my son back, but it wasn't god who gave him back to me, we took him back, we took him... Don't lose heart love, you'll see your little boy again..."
☘️ You're scared then, convinced that even if you do get your son back Michael will never take him in. You beg Polly not to tell anyone, you ask her to keep the baby a secret and she understands why you're asking, because she understands she shakes her head.
☘️ "My sons stubborn y/n, but he ain't stupid... He'll take that little boy in, he fuckin will..." theres a threat in her voice then, a grit that chills you. You wonder if she intends to use that tone on Michael.
☘️ Its several days later when Polly tells Michael that you have something to tell him, something important. He's barely spoken two words to you since the wedding, avoiding you at all costs because he feels awkward. Because every time he looks at you his attraction threatens to break his resolve. He can't stand the thought that Tommy might have been right to pair you up.
☘️ "Me mum says you've got somet to tell me love?" he says entering the room, looking down at you where you sit on the sofa. "Says its somet important. Says I'm not to lose my temper, says I'm to be forgiving..."
☘️ You're so scared to tell him, you're shaking but you try to remember what Polly told you. You try to be brave, try to trust that her son is the gentlemen she claims he is and not the cold bastard he has shown himself to be since you were wed.
☘️ When you do tell him he purses his lips, swallows a lump in his throat and then says "did mum tell you about me?" he asks, his own eyes stewed with emotion as he walks to the window and gazes out at the street. The living room is dark and with his back to you you feel cold. He's only turned away so that you can't see the upset in his eyes.
☘️ "She did yeah..." "Fuckin horrid you know... They lie to you, feed you all this shit to make you hate your own family... Tell you you weren't wanted, tell you that your own mum hurt you... Then one day someone else comes along tells you all that was the lie... Wouldn't wish it on anyone."
☘️You're quiet, listening to him talk. You only realise you're crying when a tear trickles quickly over your lips and you taste the salt on them. When Michael turns round he looks you up and down. He feels a kind of guilt when he sees you so forlorn and heartbroken. He knows he's been unkind to you.
☘️ "Been pretty evil to you haven't I love... I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that, isn't you I hate..." he sits beside you and takes your hand in his, "I'll get your son back love, promise, call it a wedding gift."
☘️He lays out one simple condition for you, he'll take the baby and raise it as his own, as long as you promise to keep that secret too. The baby is Michaels, no one can know you weren't a virgin when he married you. It would be humiliating, imasculating. He can't have people thinking he married a "whore."
☘️It hurts hear him say that and he sees the wounded look in your eyes and apologises. "Love I don't think you're a whore..." does that really make it better?
☘️ It takes time but with the Shelby/Gray formidabke reputation Michael is able to bring your little boy back to you.
☘️You're not sad living with Michael, he really is a gentleman when he isn't acting up for Tommy. He takes good care of you and the boy and you live happily together. And you can't deny your attraction to one another. The cards and your palms didn't lie, you really were well matched and you do find love, far easily than most.
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captain-tangrine · 2 months
Text
Midnights
| Trafalgar law x reader
Fluff . Law is an idiot
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Law felt calm as you sat on the other side of the room doing your own thing, this has been going on for a while now, you just come to his office and read, sketch, work or even sleep.
not a lot of words are spoken simply because there isn't a need for them, but law finds himself in nights like feeling thankful for your presence more that ever.
God forbid he says this out loud but your presence has been calming him lately, making him less tired or irritated, could be the idea that he isn't working alone that makes it less stressful for him but he's fairly sure it's because of you, don't get him wrong he loved his crew more than he'll ever admit but only you had this effect on him.
He watches as you read a book you found in his study, he knows you can feel his gaze because you're not that oblivious and he's not subtle either, he also knows he should get to work but god how much he'd wish you'd initiate something right now, anything could be a hug or simply a nod he just needs you to acknowledge him.
So as someone with no skill in expressing feelings he just clears his throat to get you attention, you look up to him and okay okay he can do this he's a big guy, he has killed people before telling you to sit next to him is no big deal, right? Hell no aborte mission
" Can you pass me that file there " coward
" Sure " you give him the file and he doesn't even know what to do with it, he figures pretending to read it for a bit then putting it aside would work, except that when ipu go back to reading you sit next to his desk, smiling as if you knew what he was thinking, shit shit shit
" You know, captain. You're not that hard to read " he doesn't respond in favour of hiding his blush with the file, just murmuring a ' shut up ' that makes you giggle, okay maybe the captain of the heart pirates has a tine crush, would he act on it? Nope, do you know that ? yep, would you release him from his misery? Maaaybe.
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Note
Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader
Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.
Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?
Smut n fluff
Please
Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full
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Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader
Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)
This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.
"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.
"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.
"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.
"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.
"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."
"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.
"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.
"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."
"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.
"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.
"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."
"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.
"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.
"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.
"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."
"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.
"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."
"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"
"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.
“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.
“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.
I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.
“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.
“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.
“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.
“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”
“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.
“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.
“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”
“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.
“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”
“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.
“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”
“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.
“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.
“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.
“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”
“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”
“My…hands?” He says slowly.
“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”
“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.
“They’re big,” I whisper.
“And what does that make you think about?”
“Please don’t make me say it.”
“No, no I want to hear you say it.”
In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”
“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.
“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”
“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.
“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.
“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”
“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.
“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.
“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”
“I understand completely, sir.”
“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.
“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.
“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.
“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.
“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.
“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”
“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.
“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”
“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”
“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.
“I understand!” I blurt out.
“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.
“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.
“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”
“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.
“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.
“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”
“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”
“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.
“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.
“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.
“Green,” I say quickly.
“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.
I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.
“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.
“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.
“Try again, sweetheart.”
“Sorry. Daddy.”
“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.
“Daddy, people will see.”
“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.
“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”
“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”
“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”
“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,
“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.
“Daddy, please, too much.”
“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.
I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.
“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”
“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”
“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”
“Okay, let me grab a condom.”
“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.
“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.
“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”
“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.
“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.
I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.
“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.
“How long was I out?” I say softly.
“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.
“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.
“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”
“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.
“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.
“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”
“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”
“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.
“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.
“Good, because I don’t want you to.”
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faeryarchives · 4 months
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when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace trappola x f!reader)
summary: the rising streamer ace trappola has always been teased by his friends and fans about his failed relationships - that is until one certain stream where each and everyone of them were proven wrong.
note: ok i had this idea at 1 in the morning i was like 'hmmm what if we make a streamer series for twst?' and its just full of fluff and crack like no magic au + everyone is just normal
recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & so what are we? & in sickness and in health
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it was around saturday midnight when everyone should be asleep, but ace trappola decided it was a good time to stream a horror game out of all possible games he could play with his friends. they all started as friends before starting the game but i fear he might have none after the stream.
"crabby, where are you~?" the sound of floyd humming through the mic sent shivers down the boy's back as he tried hiding from the hunter. "it's so funny to see floyd just have this tunnel vision to kill ace." jamil's smooth voice rang out, obviously amuse how the scene was unfolding. 
"oh flooooyd! ace is hiding in the house with the telephone!"
"i hate all of you, after this game i am blocking everyone!" seeing him become the victim in the game and everyone turning on against him, his fans flood the live stream chat with laughing emojis and 'take the l'.
"ace, become a good bait while we fix the car." he heard ruggie and deuce laugh at his misery before their characters ran opposite his direction.
"okay who is the one that said floyd should be the hunter this round? hey, hey, hey! stop chasing after me- am i the only player in this game?! epel is right here!" in an act of desperation, ace tried to hide behind epel's character instead but only to receive massive damage when the attack hit him instead.
"eh... but guppy-chan isn't even trying to run away, which is boring!"
"wait, really?" he then stopped running. ace turned to face the hunter's character, trying to see if floyd would actually kill him, only to notice something wrong a little too late. "heh, gotcha,"  ace screamed into his mic, watching his character gets stuck in the tree and meet his demise as floyd split him into half literally. the words 'you died' appeared on the streamer's screen. 
gloomurai: wow you are so great in this game 🤣
"i see you idia-senpai! it's not my fault they all turned against me!"
wani-sama🔧: it's your karma for selling them out to ruggie last game
"yeah, yeah... well, i'm always the last one to get caught, so this can be pretty relaxing." the streamer smirked as he watched from deuce's point of view where he is currently lost in the woods. 
"i get to watch them die but knowing floyd he might quit mid-game." to used to being the first one out, ace sighed, switching from one point of view to another. bored ou of his mind, he looked at the corner of his screen, ace looked at the comments curiously as they try suggesting things.
muscle-red: why don't you do a q and a while waiting then?
"question and answer? don't you guys basically know me already?" ace looked at the screen intently, contemplating whether he should do it.
"fucking viper i swear!" suddenly someone joined the call causing ace to jump in surprised, only to realize it was ruggie. 
"how did you die?"
"jamil betrayed me because we thought it was a four-seater car. it turns out it was only two!" hearing this, ace turned to jamil's point of view and snickered about how he and epel got chased by the sneaky eel. "welcome to the dead club."
as if he could imagine his senior rolling his eyes at his words, he smirked smugly - karma does bite back hard. "hardy har... what were you doing? i heard something about a question and answer?"
"chat wants me to have another q and a portion, what more do i have to tell you guys?"
cowabunga: how is the search for your beloved mwishxr: there is no use in asking that 
"search for my beloved? hey!"
"shishishi! even your viewers are against you!"
it's a running joke in ace's community on how he was immediately dump by his ex girlfriend one week after dating. it wasn't like he wanted to share the story - he shared it as a batsu game after losing a round of uno. usually, when asked about his search for a girlfriend, ace would get all red and try to defend himself from the single until he became old allegations.
but today was surprising because not only did he not become all flustered and defensive - ace trappola looked smug even as he leaned his head into his palm and laughed.
"hmm, i wonder about that?" from behind, ace could hear approaching footsteps stopping next to him, and the live stream chat went wild and even ruggie who was looking at ace's stream right now watched with wide eyes as someone who was wearing the streamer's well-known sweater stood beside him.
"what the fuck?!"
gloomurai: ?!?!? muscle-red: what is with the sudden plot twist wani-sama🔧: WAIT wani-sama🔧: IS THAT-?!
"heya (nickname)~" ace hummed, turning his gaming chair facing your direction, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he grinned at you ever so cheekily. "you're late!"
"what are you five? i don't even know why you want me to come over." you rolled your eyes, trying to push him away playfully, only to run your fingers through his hair and chuckle.
seeing him lazily smiling at you causes you to succumb to your urge to pinch his cheeks - hard, making ace cry out in pain. before you could even ask another question, you saw something flash at the corner of your eye causing you to look at his monitor - realizing that he is still streaming. while holding onto you. and he not even on mute!
"this is all your plan, wasn't..." holding his face in your hands, ace could only laugh and nod, his hand quickly pulling you down, making you sit on his lap as he proudly present you to everyone. "as you can see, i am not hopeless anymore!"
wani-sama🔧: WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIS?!
"how is it possible i could hear sebek through the screen..." you sigh, leaning your back on ace and waved at the camera so casually as if the chat and ruggie weren't surprised at all.
"i just want to say to chat that ace didn't have my family in hostage." with you hand wrapped around his, you put up up and showed it to the camera. "and he is stuck with me."
hearing at just what you said made everyone in the chat go insane erupting into numerous emoji and something with the lines of 'oh my god he is not lying!' or just exclamation but nothing beats the reaction of your friends.
"(name) you settled for a guy like him?!" you could hear ruggie's surprised voice through your boyfriend's headset and honestly, you were contemplating if you would agree or just laugh it off.
"what can i say? sometimes, idiots have their charms."
jamil-viper: i can't believe you got (name) of all people... deuce-spade: oh thank god i don't have to keep it a secret anymore. wani-sama🔧: YOU KNEW?! epel-felmier: i think that's the effect of not our gc !!
the stream goes on with ace finally having his bragging rights and the twitter stans going crazy about the sudden girlfriend reveal. oh well, karma does hit back hard doesn't it?
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