#All of these thoughts have been floating around my head for YEARS (starting way before the vigilante arc) so I’m happy to get it all out

[saphiraarts]

Chapter 3 Since when was my Godfather half dead?

For the past few weeks essentially Danny Fenton has been a nervous wreck with countless accidents at home and at school. He was banned from handling any fragile school property now and he sighed as he walked home that friday. He just wanted to curl up in his room where no one could see him and get dinner that night. He perked up hearing voices in the kitchen and walked closer and he smiled.

“Vlad!” He called happily, seeing the man at the table.

“Danny,” Vlad said warmly, standing and opening his arms and he rushed over and gave his godfather a hug.

“Where have you been?! You missed the start of the school year!” Danny called.

Jazz sat across the table drinking some tea after a day at school and she smiled seeing her brother so happy noticing how stressed he had been. She thought he had been stressed about starting high school but she wasn’t sure how to approach him just yet. She had been a bit short with him lately especially at the end of her sophomore year and finals. Vlad wrapped his arms around him and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry I was at a conference. I could not reschedule it no matter how much I tried,” Vlad said with a gentle tone as he pulled away.

Danny settled into a seat setting down his bag. Well he tried to but his bag fell to the floor and Vlad’s eyes widened seeing his arm vanish from sight. Danny sighed, sounding tired as he sat down and just did his best to smile.

“New year jitters my boy?” Vlad asked.

“I guess so,” Danny said with a nervous laugh but sighed. “I think I should lay down in my room.” He stood his smile fading, not wanting to face his sister or Vlad right now.

He grabbed his bag and went upstairs. He heard footsteps but he shook his head and he gripped his pants just in case. When he reached his door his arm phased through the door as he went to grab it and he waited for it to become solid again before he entered his room and flopped onto his bed. He didn’t even feel motivated to hang out with Sam and Tucker; he was one freak accident away from becoming the local freak. There was a knock and Danny buried his head under his pillow which just phased through his head and he panicked when he went through his bed and yelped when he crashed to the floor under it.

“Daniel?! You alright?” Vlad called.

Oh crud. Danny said, “Yeah!” He crawled out from under his bed covered in dust. “Uh come in!” It would cause more concern and problems if he turned Vlad away.

Vlad opened the door and shut it behind him and he saw him covered in dust and confirmed what he needed to know without having to see it. That incident he saw was no trick of light Daniel was half ghost.

“So uh what brings you here?” Danny asked, rubbing his arm praying he didn’t do anything as he sat down on his bed.

Vlad took a seat at his desk pulling the chair up and he said, “I will just be upfront. There is no gentle way to go about this.” He held up his hand and pink energy wrapped around it and he shut the curtains of Danny’s room and turned on his desk lamp.

Danny jumped tensed seeing it gripping the bed and his eyes widened when black rings wrapped around Vlad washing over him. Vlad went from a pale toned man to a well built green skinned vampiric looking ghost with black hair with solid red eyes.

“I am half ghost as well. It seems that your transformation or should I say partial death happened recently,” Vlad said.

Danny was in shock, “Si-Since when were you h-half ghost?!” He called. He yelped as he phased through the bed again. Vlad flew over and turned intangible, grabbing Danny and helping him back up onto the bed.

“Twenty years ago this year, senior year of college,” Vlad explained calmly as he flew away. “I understand why you've been so nervous now I would be in your shoes in a house of ghost hunters who speak of tearing ghosts apart.” He floated back to the chair, settling back in it.

Danny was breathing a bit heavily as he took this all in that his godfather was half ghost like what?! He ran a hand through his hair as he sat there and Vlad gave him this silence letting him come to terms. Danny looked up to him and he drew in a breath and focused. The ring of light appeared at his waist washing over him. He appeared in the inverted fenton jumpsuit and his white hair covered his face.

“I can help train you but not here. Too many risks. How about you stay the weekend at my manor?” Vlad asked him. “We could work on the basics so you don’t have so many incidents.”

“You would help me?!” Danny called as he stood.

“Of course. I know too well what it is like to have no guide,” Vlad said smiling. “Let’s cover the basics now while we have some time.”

Danny stood at attention waiting for instruction, unable to believe how lucky he was that he found a mentor in the form of his own godfather. There was solace in the fact he wasn’t alone. To Sam and Tucker this was just something that made him stand out and they didn’t seem to truly understand his fears.

“Your ghost powers respond to your emotion and that they are still unknown to you. You are still learning how they feel. It is like awakening to a new sense so to speak and you have to recognize its triggers and be able to temper it,” Vlad explained as he stood.

“Okay so how will I know what it feels like?” Danny asked.

“Well from what I gathered it is different per ghost based on something called an elemental core,” Vlad replied. “We need to determine your element. Mine is fire so my powers felt like a burning sensation flaring up and intensifying at times. The emotions they respond to most often are fear and anxiety.”

“Oh great,” Danny said after hearing that part sighing, running a hand through his hair. “How can I not be scared or anxious?!” He asked him throwing his arms out. “I am half dead now! My parents want to hunt me and do who knows what to me!”

“I don’t know how they would react to this knowledge so it is understandable to be fearful,” Vlad said which didn’t comfort Danny that he didn’t even know how his parents would react. “But know that if the worst does occur and that is if, I will protect you.”

Vlad approached and placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder and gave him a smile and Danny wrapped his arms around him feeling tears form. He let it out the tears he had been holding in and cried into Vlad’s chest. Vlad pulled him close, wrapping him in his cloak and letting him cry it out. He remembered how he was like after he fully transformed after the slow and painful partial death from ecto acne. He was a nervous wreck breaking down in the dead of night where no one could comfort him. He was alone in figuring it out and spent those years living in fear before he gained control then he channeled that fear into anger and then regret. Vlad changed back and produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket and knelt down and held it out to Danny who took it and wiped his green tinted tears away.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it Daniel, but you will be okay. You don’t have to endure this alone. If you need me message me I am an email away,” Vlad told him. “So chin up. You will learn control. Even if there are a lot of unknowns I can do what I can to help you.”

Danny smiled but blinked when the rings of light washed over him shifting to his human appearance, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“We’ll figure that out,” Vlad said, chuckling as he stood. “I went through similar phases.”

He held his hand out for his handkerchief and Danny handed it to him and blinked when he set it aflame and turned it to ashes. He walked over to the trash can and deposited it.

“Don’t want your parents suspecting anything. Let’s go down to dinner,” Vlad said and Danny nodded, feeling better with Vlad there.

Danny was packed for his weekend at Vlad’s but it wasn’t just normal time with Vlad it was training. It took convincing but Sam and Tucker were allowed to stop by if they wanted as they knew his secret being there for his accident. He knew they were hiding it but what happened traumatized them. Tucker recoils slightly everytime he sees a bright flash and Sam has been weary of electricity and appliances that use it. She says it is a part of her counterculture views but it didn’t start happening before his accident. He also noticed some nights that they don’t get much sleep with bags under their eyes. He still has nightmares of the accident so he was glad for some time out of the house. It was hard being in the lab with everything that happened. He walked outside and looked at his parents.

“Have fun sweetie!” Maddy purred hugging him.

“Have a great time with V-man!” Jack called patting him on the shoulder.

“Th-thanks see you guys Monday,” Danny said and he rushed to the car where Vlad was waiting.

He climbed into the passenger seat and Vlad gave him a smile and he waved goodbye to the Fentons and he pulled away.

“Are you sure you are ready to train right away?” Vlad asked him.

“I wanna get a handle on this as soon as possible,” Danny said, looking at his hands. “I need to. Ghosts have been entering the house…” Danny admitted.

“I see they haven’t figured out a gate lock yet. Then again it doesn’t work the same way as you would think,” Vlad said as he drove. “You have to have a reinforced lock with a passcode made from a material that is hard for ghosts to manipulate which is difficult to come by. I can give your parents the supply. Maddy and Jack aren't fond of my manner of help when I have figured things out they haven’t.”

“You are a pushy fruit loop,” Danny said, the nickname being one of endearment he had from when he was a child.

“Hey,” Vlad said, narrowing his eyes at Danny before chuckling knowing he was right and focusing back on the road.

Danny laughed and Vlad cracked a smile and they finally reached his manor and he climbed out and so did Danny grabbing his bag from the backseat. He walked with Vlad inside the garage door closing and he was used to his godfather’s extravagant tastes. It still made him feel out of place even though he was at his godfather’s home and been here throughout his life.

“Did you make sure to have a lot of protein?” Vlad asked and Danny nodded with Vlad transforming. “Alright let’s begin. We will work on mastering flight, intangibility, and invisibility.”

Danny transformed into his ghost form ready for training and the pair would spend the day training trying to master the basics and he made headway. It wasn’t perfect but Vlad called it for the day and began to prepare dinner. It always surprised Danny that Vlad made his own meals and didn’t have a 100 staff members. Then again Vlad was half ghost so it made a lot of sense now. Danny was laying on the couch in the living room when his phone went off and he pulled it out. He hadn’t been able to convince Vlad to let him tell Sam and Tucker over the fun.

OnlyTechUnderstandsMe0101: Heyo still up for us stopping by Vlad’s?

TheOneGothGirl42: Were you able to keep things all hidden?

SpaceTraveler60: Uh yeah come on by! Vlad’s making dinner

TheOneGothGirl42: You’re keeping things from us you better spill when we get there let’s go tucker!

TheOneGothGirl42 Signed off

OnlyTechUnderstandsMe0101: See ya then dude better spill when we get there lol

OnlyTechUnderstandsMe0101 Signed off

Danny sighed as he stood walking to the kitchen, “Sam and Tucker are coming by. Will you tell them you're training me?” He asked.

Vlad looked back at him, “Yes I will. You asked me to tell them and be honest with them. I hope they both are trustworthy.”

“I know they are,” Danny said firmly. He knew his friends were some of the more trustworthy people he knew.

“I trust your judgment Daniel, just be cautious. The government has been slowly building up the agency that hunts the supernatural like us. It started with Witch Hunters in the colonial days before more knowledge had been gained to form an organization known as Supernatural Elimination and Containment Agency or SECA. Fortunately funding has been reduced for those government dogs but they have enough to be ready and all Congress needs is a reason. So be cautious of who knows your secret. The government just needs a miniscule excuse to spend taxpayer dollars on anything military over actually useful programs,” Vlad explained as he knew that tone.

Danny listened to Vlad’s explanation and he had no idea a government organization like that existed and he looked to him. Vlad sounded scared almost even though he tried to hide it. It sounded like they weren’t bad for now but he would try to avoid them if Vlad recommended it. While he didn’t outwardly say it he knew and if they had been around so long there had to have been old methods his parents tested before switching to more advanced tools.

“You will recognize members by their cologne. It is made from Blood Blossoms,” Vlad explained.

“What’s blood blossoms?” Danny asked.

“It’s a rare species of rose that has been cultivated by those that hunt the paranormal and government agencies due to its ability to repel and weaken ghosts. A bundle of Blood Blossoms is more effective than the strongest ghost weapons but fortunately it became endangered. The government has been focused on building up the species so they are only able to have a cologne made from the extract of the rose,” Vlad explained. “It smells overwhelming. Sicking almost. Sickeningly sweet and bitter like being trapped in a room you have sprayed air freshener in but also with hints of rosemary. The pain it causes is one of the worst I have experienced.”

“I see,” Danny shuddered hearing its description. It was terrifying that a plant could do that.

Vlad finished dinner and the two were eating when there was a knock at the door. Vlad went to the door insisting Danny eat after today and he brought Sam with her arms crossed and Tucker fiddling with his shirt to the table.

“There is plenty more if you want some Tucker,” Danny said gesturing to the kitchen. Vlad had made a japanese style curry with white rice. He knew Sam couldn’t eat it due to her diet.

“I already ate before I left,” Tucker said.

“I ate too,” Sam said.

Silence consumed the dinner making it awkward and when the pair stopped eating Vlad stood with the dishes to clean and let Danny tell his friends.

“So how have you been hiding your powers?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

“I haven’t needed to. Vlad is half ghost too,” Danny said simply.

“What?!” Tucker called. “Vlad Masters head of Vladco is half ghost?!” He hissed, being much quieter now.

“Woah didn’t see that coming,” Sam said.

“I know right?! He has been training me and I made progress! After this weekend I shouldn’t have any more accidents at home or school! Or at least not too many,” Danny sighed at the reminder Vlad gave him to not put his hopes that one weekend will perfectly give him mastery.

“Hey that’s great man!” Tucker called.

“How did Vlad become one?” Sam asked.

“Something called Ectoacne which he compared to cancer,” Danny said frowning.

“Well that’s dark,” Sam said, blinking at the response Danny gave.

“For real!” Tucker called.

“Hey Sam? Could you look into something for me?” Danny asked.

“Shoot,” Sam replied.

“Something called Blood Blossoms,” Danny explained.

“I didn’t know you were into botany,” Tucker said.

“I am not! It’s a flower that can repel and even hurt ghosts,” Danny sighed. “We need to know all we can about it.”

“I can find that info for you,” Sam said, seeing his worry. “But who uses it that has got you worked up?”

“Government ghost hunters known as SECA for short,” Danny sighed. “With the ghost portal at home they are bound to show up eventually.”

“I’ll look into those guys too and sulk around the forums,” Sam said.

Danny sighed resting his hand on the table and Sam stood placing a hand on his shoulder and Tucker reached over and placed his hand on his arm.

“Hey dude we got ya!” Tucker called.

“Yeah you have people to support you. You aren’t alone,” Sam echoed, smiling.

Vlad stood in the doorway smiling seeing the three. Maybe he was wrong to judge them so harshly as Daniel seemed to have good friends at his side.

----

I am not sure how to continue this fic. I have ideas for how my au will go like how Dani will come to be and how Dan would still exist but I am not sure how to write it from here as he will face still similar threats just Vlad at his side. The government is the one that creates Dani due to how active he is fighting the Guys in White and they learn his secret early. It will be broadcast still against Freakshow when he has the reality guantlet. And Danny makes the guys in white forget he is half ghost, forget ever making dani, forget vlad, and ignore all of them as threats before destroying the reality gauntlet. So consider this the ending!

[sleepingpopplio]

Izuku Midoriya and confronting a complicated past— an analysis

With the upcoming arc in the anime about to come after next week’s episode, I think that it’s important to talk about Izuku as a character, and everything that has led him to this moment and this particular arc in the series. While there is a lot going on in that Kid’s head, most of the things that directly cause Deku to act the way he does during his vigilante time has been left unsaid and up to the reader to pick up on. This could be seen as sloppy writing, but it could also be seen as a great use of subtlety to create a slow downward spiral for our protagonist that can be incredibly rewarding for readers who take the time to do some extra sleuthing. So before the arc begins, and before the inevitable controversy on whether or not the arc was rushed or came out of nowhere, how about we take a close look at Izuku Midoriya as a character and his depth that is often ignored. Let’s take a peek at how his entire arc is filled with tragedy, hope, and the importance of confronting one’s past. Sit back, grab a snack, and enjoy my first in depth BNHA analysis where I hope to give manga readers who are currently watching the anime some added perspective. Also disclaimer: I love all the characters in this series and will not be bashing on any of them, as I feel as though it would be undermining the messages of the story and the depth of the characters. Nothing I say is meant to be putting down any characters and I am not blaming any single character for Izuku’s struggles. All fans of any characters are safe and welcome to enjoy this.

At the beginning of the series during the very first line from our protagonist, which is something that is supposed to help the audience understand the type of story they are about to read— Izuku says “people are not born equal”. He also states that he learned that fact at the young age of four years old. From the very beginning, Deku was made to believe that he is less than everyone else. Less than those with quirks, and therefore less of a human. Quirks, literally translated from Japanese, mean individuality. To be quirkless, in the eyes of MHA’s society, is to be without a soul. Or at least, that is what can be understood by a small child who simply wants to belong. Therefore, deku internalizes form a young age that he inherently has less value as a quirkless boy, and such internalizing severely damages his perception of himself for the rest of the series. He’s a useless deku that does not have much to contribute. However, during the very same first scene we also see Izuku fighting back against the kids trying to beat him up. Despite the odds stacked against him, Izuku midoriya is determined to prove himself. He’s determined to prove to others, and to himself, that he has value. He is also determined to keep moving forward despite society seemingly turning him away. But children need time to process their emotions. They need time to learn and talk through the issues they’re facing. Izuku does not do that. He keeps fighting, he keeps wanting to be a hero, but he doesn’t talk to any adult around him about how he feels. He doesn’t get told that he is perfect the way he is, or that he doesn’t have to prove anything. What happens when such insecurities and trauma are not given the space to heal at an early age? Well let’s move forward a few years…

When Deku meets all might, and demonstrates his innate and pure heroism when he runs to save Bakugo from the sludge villain, he is offered a once an a lifetime chance: One For All. He is told that he can become a hero, and is aided in training to use the quirk and get into UA. By this point, Izuku’s self esteem issues that stemmed from his childhood and the the perception of quirklessness that was placed upon him by the world around him have only grown. He wants to be a hero, but he also has become quiet and reserved, as he thinks of himself more as an afterthought. He wants to help people, because he cares and he is a kind hearted individual, but also because he want to be useful. He has to be a useful hero, but how? The quirk of One For All thus represents a way to be useful in the way that Izuku thinks is correct, which is by being a quirked individual. So what happens when you give a kid with extreme self esteem issues, and who views himself as flawed for simply being himself, a very powerful quirk along side the opportunity to become a hero? That child latched onto the quirk like a lifeline. They have to make good use of their new quirk; they have to utilize the blessing granted to them or else they will remain useless and will be left behind. Izuku will work hard to earn his quirk because he feels as though he is unworthy, even though he already proved himself the second that his body moved on its own. Therefore, the second Izuku is given his quirk, he begins the cycle of using it as an unhealthy coping mechanism and source of validation. He is more hopeful than ever when given the quirk, but his unhealthy mindset is also given the power to run rampant. This is the story of a boy becoming the greatest hero he says, so early on in the series, but it also of a boy desperately trying to become more than he currently is, for better and for worse.

This then leads to the beginning of his time at UA, where Izuku, in addition to clinging onto his quirk as a replacement for his self esteem, begins reclaiming the meaning of his nickname Deku. “Deku is the name of a hero” he declares, and while taking back the power from his former bully and standing up for himself is an incredibly uplifting moment or Izuku in the beginning of the manga, there is another side of the coin that is the reclamation of Deku. Izuku Midoriya feels as though he has to be the new, hero Deku, or else there is nothing else worthwhile about him. He has to prove himself as a true hero or else he’ll have to go back to the old, useless Deku…He’ll forever be left behind. So, he breaks himself. Over, and over, and over again. The hero named Deku breaks his limbs time and time again, because if he doesn’t push himself to the brink, then he hasn’t done enough, and therefore he has failed the quirk that he was blessed with and failed the people who have helped him. The sentiment that he needs to hurt himself, or even nearly get himself killed, is incredibly concerning and could even be seen as suicidal ideology. Furthermore, this ideology creates an intense fear that follows Izuku wherever he goes, and even causes him to blame himself in scenarios where it’s not his fault at all, such as the summer camp arc where he was nearly killed by muscular, yet still beats himself up over Bakugo’s capture.

Another development that occurs at the beginning of Izuku’s time at UA is the start of an insurmountable amount of pressure being placed on his shoulders. When Izuku first received One For All, he was told that he could use the quirk to achieve his dreams of being a hero. He knew nothing of its past, and was given no indication that he had to live up to it. Yet, during the tournament arc Allmight begins mentioning the idea of Izuku becoming the next symbol of peace. While an honor to have, being the number one hero and an international symbol was not what Izuku, a fourteen year old kid at the time of the sludge villian attack, signed up for. Yet, he takes on the responsibility with a nervous smile on his face, and the shadow of all might begins following him. Next, he learned about the horrifying figure that is All For One, and Izuku is told that he may have to fight him one day; He may have to fight someone that he had previously thought to be nothing more than an urban legend. The child who wanted to become a hero now has to be prepared to fight the demon lord. Moreover, these revelations begin the process of Izuku placing more and more pressure on himself to be the best hero possible. He cannot afford to make a mistake. He cannot afford to be useless, because the legacy of One For All demands that he be exceptional. Afterall, he’s the ninth user. Do the wants of Izuku Midoriya really matter more than the fate of the world?

During all of this, Izuku slowly becomes more comfortable with his quirk, and grows in confidence. He truly becomes equals with Bakugo and works with him to mend their relationship, and he also develops his shoot style in an effort to move away from imitating All might. These things are all possible development for Izuku’s character and also gradually take place as the series goes on. After so many years of being quiet, he finally opens himself up again; He opens himself up to love from his peers, and opens himself up to new experiences. He also becomes more willing to talk back to others, as demonstrated by his attitude towards Endeavor, and later his more frequent and friendly banter with Bakugo. However, the self esteem issues and insecurities never go away, and Deku still breaks himself every chance he gets. The pressure also still continues to build as Allmight retires, and Izuku becomes truly trapped in his role as the successor. He accepts his role, and is happy to be serving others, but Allmight’s retirement leaves a void that Izuku feels as though there is no one else left to fill but himself. There’s no backing out now, and Izuku’s quirk development now has to speed up or else he will never be able to fill that void. He also witnesses the might of All For One in person, and the nightmare of him having to face the demon lord becomes even more of a reality. Through all of this, Izuku still refuses to talk about his feelings with his peers or the adults around him, and instead he decides to keep marching forward without taking any time to let himself, or his mind, rest. The only sliver of hope for Izuku’s mental well-being is the fact that he still allows himself to cry. Therefore, the shadow of responsibility that followed Izuku morphs into a massive weight on his shoulders that helps to steer his development backwards and into character regression.

Izuku’s mental health then takes a turn for the worst after the Overhaul arc, which was also a turning point for the series with its dark tone. As Izuku sees for himself the real horrors of the criminal underground, he once again blames himself for Eri’s circumstances and his inability to save someone. Through this experience, Izuku becomes so entrenched in the idea of becoming the perfect hero that he even begins denying himself the right to cry. He says that “heroes don’t cry”, and other characters such as Todoroki are shocked at the statement by their friend. Crying was one of Deku’s last healthy coping mechanisms, and he loses that too. Nighteye’s death cements this fact, as it is actually the last time that Deku sincerely cries in series, before the end of vigilante arc. All other times that he cries moving forward form this point are played off as gags, and thus Izuku represses his emotions to an extent that is even foreign to him, as someone who has been suppressing his emotions since he was a small child. It should also be noted that this arc highlight’s Deku’s uncertainty as a holder of One For All. This shows that no matter how much Deku’s confidence improves, he will continuously view himself as not good enough and fear the return of the former “useless” Deku. In addition, the overhaul arc also highlights Izuku’s loss of innocence. As I said before, Izuku is exposed to the true cruelties & horrors of the villian underground, but this development is not new. Dating back to the Stain arc, Izuku has been gradually losing more and more of his innocence. Even when he endured a very difficult childhood, Deku was at least able to told onto hope and be optimistic for the future, but being thrusted into the world of heroes takes the bright eyes boy and chips away at his soul. He keeps going, because as always he refuses to give himself time to heal, but the Izuku at the end of the Overhaul arc is not the same person as we was when he first enrolled in UA, and he never will be again. The fear, responsibility, and loss of innocence all culminate to send the mental health of Izuku Midoriya into a free fall, but he would never admit it. Instead, he keeps on smiling.

We are getting close to the vigilante arc (I hope you’ve been enjoying this so far!), but one final significant development in Izuku’s mental state occurs during the Class 1-A and Class 2-A training session, where he is once again given responsibilities that he never asked for. At this point, Izuku’s confidence has grown exponentially, but on further inspection much of that confidence seems to be misplaced. You see, while Izuku becomes extremely confident in his use of One For All, he still remains insecure about himself as an individual. He still lives in fear of being useless, and constantly needs to prove himself. This is because Izuku Midoriya the individual is being slowly left behind, while the Deku the hero becomes comfortable with his quirk because if he can’t master his quirk then he has nothing. He is nothing… Then Blackwhip appears, and Izuku has to relearn his quirk even though he had already been working fro months to get to to the place he’s currently at. It feels like a slap to the face, but now that Izuku has now more formally met the vestiges, he’s given no choice but to accept his new quirks in addition to his role in “completing One For All,” as The 1st user puts it. Izuku Midoriya fades even more, the incredible amount of responsibility grows even more, and the hero Deku sees himself as nothing else but the ninth holder. Most of this understanding of Izuku’s mental state is not actually spoken of out loud in the manga/anime, but the context clues of the events leading up to this moment (as shown by all the writing before this), Izuku’s facial expressions, and the events afterward help strip away the smile that Izuku is so determined to keep on his face almost the entire arc and show high Izuku’s walls have grown around his internal anguish. Therefore, the metaphorical vault shown that Izuku uses to lock away his quirks is also used to lock away his emotions once and for all. The only leak in this facade that we have until the end of the vigilante arc is…

Izuku’s character regression has already been set in stone by the time the war arc comes around, but what is important to note is how his repressed emotions manifest in the form of his intense rage. We’ve seen this before, with how Izuku becomes incredibly intimidating and unhinged during his fights with villains such as Muscular and Stain. All For One’s theme even plays in the anime as Izuku fights Overhaul to represent how monstrous he is int eh eyes of villains during battle. The difference during this arc is that other characters are finally catching on to just how toxic Izuku’s ideology has become. Bakugo in particular takes takes note of just how not ok it is for Izuku to not take himself into account, and shows visible concern while Izuku fights with Shigaraki in the air. Not only is Izuku being destructive to himself, but he also lashes out so harshly that is seems though he intends to kill Shigaraki in the moment. But to Izuku, he has no other choice. He is Deku, a hero, and the Deku who always does his best. Deku himself veery clearly states during this arc that he will no longer be the useless deku, and with that statement he resolves to kill the remnants of Izuku Midoriya, the quirkiness kid with bright eyes, himself. He cannot afford to be useless. He refuses. He will kill himself during this fight with Shigaraki if that’s what it takes to be a hero who saves everyone and a hero who is worthy of being the ninth holder of one for all. Finally, everything has come full circle, and the name Deku starts as something negative, then is given hope to become something positive, but then once again becomes a toxic image within Izuku’s life. That is why it is so important when Izuku is called by his first name in the vigilante arc— because Izuku Midoriya, both the quirkiness child and the current person, are deserving of love and have value beyond their quirk. Izuku is more than One For All, but unfortunately all of his repressed emotions that have been highlighted throughout this entire analysis have to explode out of him in order for him to heal. In addition, Deku and the repression of his emotions has led him to push everyone else away, even back when he was smiling nonstop. The war arc simply showcases ho bad that seclusion has gotten, and that when it comes down to it Deku will purposely exclude his peers in order to suffer alone.

Izuku, in the vigilante arc, will simply be the ninth holder of One For All, whose only purpose and value lies in defeating All For One himself. Furthermore, at the center of this entire discussion, is the fact that Izuku is afraid of his past. All of his self esteem issues come from such a young age, and yet he does not know what else to do besides run from it. Izuku Midoriya is a character that is so defined by his past, yet is so desperate to escape it. Therefore, he will need to be reminded by his loved ones that the cycle of trauma that he has endured throughout his life does not have to continue. He can choose his own way. He is not shackled by his past, and thus healing is possible. It’s not too late, and all he needs is his friends to remind him of why he is loved for his heart, and not his quirk. Therefore there is no singular character that got through to Deku. All of 1-A saved the boy who was so desperate to save anyone but himself.

With that said…

Deku’s entire arc throughout the series leading up to the vigilante arc has been filled with regression, in the sense that the heros around him place more and more pressure on him to the point that he does not consider himself human, but rather a tool that has no value outside of One For All. This is the story of a boy that becomes the greatest hero, but also of a boy that was stripped of his innocence and beaten down by a system that rejected him since the beginning, yet he still dreamed of being a part of. The entire vigilante/villain hunt arc brings together all of the pent up pain and self-loathing that has been following him since the beginning of the series, and shows how everything that he’s been hiding has finally caught up to him. The pain and trauma that we see from Izuku in this arc was always there, and all it took was the war arc to trigger it to come forward. In conclusion, Izuku Midoriya is an extremely complicated character who has been on a fascinating downward spiral since the beginning of the series, and if readers can take the time to see how he got to where he is, then maybe we can at least better understand the context behind the vigilante/villain hunt arc, and the complexity behind My Hero Academia’s protagonist.

Credit to @mettywiththenotes for having the post that inspired this essay, and that I originally had the conclusion of this analysis posted under as a reblog. Also credit to @pikahlua’s mha discord server that I’m in for encouraging me to write this!!!

[rebelfell]

steve harrington x virgin!reader

Started writing about a nerdy/loser reader getting a job at a summer camp alongside the former king of her former high-school. But only bit I really liked was this piece of smut.

cw: bigdick!steve has entered the chat, fingering, oral (fem receiving), first time piv (unprotected, ‘cos I didn’t describe the condom, but he's wearing one and so should you)

18+, MDNI ︱ 1.4k

“Just, ah…” You winced slightly as the tip of his head pressed at your entrance. “Go slow?”

Steve paused, heavy lidded eyes coming up to meet yours. “Wait, are you a…have you never?”

You watched the reality of your virginity dawn slowly on his face, and squirmed slightly in his arms as you tried to refocus his attention.

“It’s fine, Steve. Don’t worry about it.”

The pressure of his length pushing against your core rescinds as he pulls away and you can’t help the petulant sight that falls from your chest.

Figures, you thought bitterly.

But Steve kept his mouth close. He littered your jaw and neck with kisses, his hands kneading your waist as he kneeled slowly and his lips continued their journey downwards. He wove a serpentine pattern across your chest, over the swell of your breasts, briefly sucking one nipple into his hot mouth while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. You sighed pleasurably at the feeling and vibrations rippled across you as he hummed around your peaked bud before pulling off with a lewd pop. His eyes watched for your reaction, dark and hungry as he kissed down your sternum and carefully spread your legs further to make space for him.

“Steve, wh-what are you—”

“Just want you to be ready,” he murmured, lips skimming over your navel. “Don’t want it to hurt.”

He brought his fingers to your entrance, lazily circling it with them, swirling lightly all around it, brushing your inner thighs as he did. You closed your eyes and tipped back your head, losing yourself in the sensations of Steve’s slow, gradual build. It feels so…nice.

He kissed tentatively at the apex of your thighs, nose pressing into your mound, and internally you cringed at the thought of what you must look like down there. You couldn’t very well shave regularly when you were sharing the showers with twenty other counselors and could count on maybe a solid six minutes of hot water. And in a million years you wouldn’t have been able to anticipate this. So you almost certainly weren’t living up to King Steve’s standards.

Steve said nothing, though. If anything, he only buried his face further in the down of your hair, inhaling your scent like it was his dying breath. The wet heat of his tongue surprised you as he licked a fat stripe through your folds and actually moaned, the sound deep and rumbly in his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, soft and reverent as a prayer. “You taste like…summer.”

His grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer, smothering his face in your center, licking and sucking at you eagerly, ravenously. His tongue chased off any glimmer of insecurity you might have felt, his enthusiasm evident in the noises that filled the room.

A tingling feeling licks its way up your body, making your cheeks and chest and ears burn hot. Your hands flexed, needing something to hold onto for fear you’ll float away untethered into the ether. With one, you palmed at your breast, missing how it had felt when Steve squeezed them over your staff shirt. The other found its way to twist itself into floppy, caramel-tinged tresses.

“You can pull it if you want,” he teased, the words muffled by your cunt. “I can take it.”

He moaned instantly at the sharp tug you gave, dragging his face against your heat so his nose stroked your clit as you rolled your hips forward.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he growled. “That’s right, baby, ride my face. Make me make you come.”

You rolled your hips again, desperately chasing an end you couldn’t even see you were so lost in the forest of your feelings. Steve lips sealed around your clit, sucking it with intention as he brought his fingers back up. At last, he breached your entrance, slipping one in easily and following it close with a second that made you writhe at the gentle stretch. 

The pumped in and out of you at a pace just slow enough to be torture, curling upwards and toying with that spot inside you that had you gushing around his fingers. You’re barely conscious as waves of pleasure rushed across you, chest shuddering with your moans as you gripped at him desperately. His tongue soothes your swollen flesh as he coaxes you through your orgasm, helping you ride it out to the very last second.

In more ways than one, you’re grateful for the warm-up when Steve stood between your legs and brought the head of his cock back to your entrance. Is it at all possible he’s gotten bigger? 

He glided it through your folds—once, twice, three times—letting the ridges catch on your clit and making you keen with each too-brief pass. He held it at the base and lifted it slightly, only to let it drop and jolt you as it slapped heavy against your dripping pussy. A dark chuckle fell from his lips at the way your eyes bulged and you gasped at the feeling, not ready for the impact. 

And then, in the kind of contrast that rivaled Jekyll and Hyde, he leaned over you and spoke sweetly in your ear as he aligned with you.

“Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded, too choked up to answer, pinching your eyes closed and bracing yourself to finally feel him. It doesn’t happen, though. He leaned in closer, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Hey…look at me.” 

Your eyes flew open to find his face hovering inches over yours. The tip of his nose brushed your own and you could practically count his long, dark lashes that fanned around mossy eyes that were almost black in the moonlight. Pieces of his long hair fell forward, the ends of it tickling your face before he pushed it back with his hand. The moles and freckles that dusted his tanned skin were more numerous than the stars in the sky you could see through his cabin’s windows.

“If you want this, you need to tell me so.”

His voice is firm, unyielding, but it’s not mean. Truly, you believed if you were to push him away and tell him you’d changed your mind, he would just tuck himself back into his shorts and be on his way. Except you wouldn’t ever do that. Because, fuck did you want him so bad.

“I want it,” you whispered. “I want you.”

It’s all the invitation he needs. 

The feeling of him finally pressing inside is intense, but not so overwhelming that it makes you whine or want to cry out. He goes slow, stretching you methodically as you take him inch by inch. And each time you think he must be buried to the hilt by now, you find there’s another stretch, another inch he can push inside. It has your chest heaving with each one.

“Too much?” he asked as his gaze flicked down to study your face.

“N-no,” you lied, legs shaking from the effort of holding them open. 

As though reading your mind, Steve gripped behind your knees and pushed your thighs up towards your chest, holding them there for you. The new angle gives him enough purchase to push in deeper still, making your back arch and your breath punch out in relief.

“We’re so close, baby,” he huffed, hair falling forward again, dusting his brow that’s damp with sweat in the sticky, humid air. “You’re taking me so well, fucking sucking me in.” 

With his words, you can almost feel your walls trying to engulf him. They burn from that last blissful stretch until he’s seated fully inside, his pelvis grinding against yours. The fullness you feel is exquisite. By all accounts, it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t fit. It shouldn’t be so right. 

You pictured him pressing on your other organs; twisting up your insides; the way he’ll demolish you as soon as he starts moving. Just the thought has you growing wetter by the second.

“Shit, look at you,” he chuckled, staring down at where your bodies meet, almost in awe. “Can’t fucking believe it…”

If you were being honest, neither could you. Part of you is afraid to breathe, convinced one wrong move will rupture something. But maybe even moreso, you’re dying to find out if it will. 

“Okay, Harrington,” you sighed, shooting him a challenging smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

[dollyhao]

succubus!reader x nerdy!ellie

summary: ellie is desperate to lose her virginity that has been looming over her her whole college career.

toni’s note: i made it guys! i promised this back in october and it’s the end of january… but it’s here.

cw: this is pure smut, no plot at all lol. 1.8k words

༊*·˚

ellie has not a single regret about what she’s about to do. ellie is in college and is still a virgin, at this point she didn’t think she’d ever lose her virginity. until one of her friends joked that she should summon a sex demon, that it was ‘the only way she’d get laid’. it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but desperation makes people do crazy things.

she read in an old book she found in the library about one in particular, the book had a picture of you drawn in and ellie thought you were absolutely gorgeous and perfect for her. what was the worst that could happen?

ellie lights the candles around the circle she made on her bedroom floor. she chanted your name 5 times like the book told her, then after 20 seconds the candles all blew out and a gust of purple smoke floats in the air. you pop out the smoke looking even more perfect than the book describes.

“who dares summons me?” you say in this slow sensual voice that ellie feels course through her body. you look around the room you were summoned in before your eyes rest on a short girl with black rimmed glasses on her face. ellie is looking at you with those pretty green puppy eyes, mouthed formed into an o shape.

“a girl? well thats new,” you walk closer to ellie sizing her up. “your cute… tell me what you want from me.” “i-i,” ellie is literally speechless. shes staring up at you, the lady demon whos probably gonna take her virginity. you have long horns on your head and a cute skinny tail, but the best part is that your completely naked. breast out in the open, nipples standing at attention, nothing covering your cunt and it’s just begging for ellie to drop to her knees to taste you.

“did you call me here to waste my time?” you ask her putting your hands on your hips with a quirked brow. “no no! i-i want you to take my virginity.” ellie says playing with her fingers. you hum, “ok ill do it. but you have to sign a contract-” “yes yes! anything!” you spawn a paper out of thin air, “dont you wanna know what your agreeing to?” but by the time you finish your sentence ellie has already signed the paper.

after she is done signing, the paper disappears. “i wanna let you know i-i’ve never done this before. well i almost did in my fourth year of highschool but that was a missed opportunity-“ ellie’s nervous rambling was cut off by you running your hands over her shoulders and ripping her shirt open exposing a blue sports bra underneath. ellie gapes at you, suprised at the sudden intrusion. you push the ripped shirt off her shoulders. “do you wanna touch me?” you say voice softening seeing how nervous the poor girl is.

she nods vigorously trailing her hands up your tummy to your breast. “you can touch me however you want.” you say smirking at her. ellie feels like she can hear your voice inside her head, a slow sensual voice with a rasp that can only be described as wild and sexy. she feels a rush of arousal pulse through her as she pushes you to lay on her bed. your eyebrows shot up, you feel her start to kiss down your stomach swirling her tongue around your navel before her head dips between your legs.

you buck slightly when you feel her inexperienced tongue flicking all around your cunt. she takes your clit into her mouth rolling and flicking her tongue all around it (like they do in the videos she watched before the summoning). you can feel her breathing heavy against you. she pushes two experimental fingers into you feeling how wet and tight you were. you taste sweet like honey and something else addictive that ellie can’t name, ellie suspects its part of your demon powers.

you grab her hair squeezing your legs around her head trying to contain your moans, no human has ever made you feel so good. you might just… like this girl. she’s cute and gentle. and she looks at you like your aphrodite instead of a sex demon.

you feel yourself about to cum when you push her head from between your thighs. ellie is looking at you, chin covered in your juices looking pussy drunk with her glasses fogged up. “are you ok?” she asked you, looking genuinely concerned. you want to coo at her but instead you flip her over taking place in between her legs this time. you peer up at her with this look that looks like you want to devour her. you pull down her sweat pants and underwear licking your lips at her slick pussy.

you give her clit a sweet kiss before using your thumb to rub circles on it. ellies moans out loud when she feels your abnormally long tongue enter her. your tongue is reaching places her fingers couldnt possibly reach. she chants you name which only encourages you to move your thumb faster on her clit. ellie grabs your horns and pull before locking her ankles together keeping you still as she grinded on your tongue feeling the knot in her stomach ready to explode. you let out a groan as ellie tugs on your horns. “im so close.” she says before her body goes rigid.

you pull away from ellie, swallowing her essence, seeming to have had an energy boost. “is there anything else you wanna try?” you say rubbing up and down her legs. she nods getting off the bed grabbing a box from under it. in the box are sex toys but ellie pulls out a girthy purple strap. “oh,” you say eyes widening, “you wanna use that on me?” you ask with that same sensual tone from the beginning. “yes.. please”

she puts the strap on before she feels you push her down on the bed straddling her. you hover over her dick grabbing it and running it up and down your slick cunt. “you want me to fuck you?” you say placing a hand on her chest still hovering over her. ellie nods her head grabbing your hips panting in anticipation, “yes please…” “ask nicely,” you say leaning down licking and biting her ear. “please fuck me. please.” ellie says bucking her hips. the tip of her dick pushes into you, you moan sitting completely on ellie’s cock.

you are bouncing and riding with no sign of slowing down. ellie is running her hands over your body, transfixed at the way your breast bounce as you ride her. when she sits up, she wraps her arms around your waist, holding you close to her as she kisses your neck and chest leaving marks.

you grab ellie’s face, tilting her head to the side so you can have access to her neck. you use your tongue to lick and suck marks into her neck until you get a little too excited and nick her neck drawing blood. ellie let’s out a groan followed by a guttural moan, completely dazed. you lick at her neck getting all the blood up before humming and planting a kiss on the mark.

ellie is gripping your ass meeting your thrust with her own desperate ones. “are you close?” ellie asked desperately, leaning to kiss you again. “very.” you coo out, kissing her using that long muscle of yours, twirling your tongue around hers.

you let go and ellie is staring in awe at the beautiful look you made while cumming. she lays back on the bed, exhausted and satisfied. when she feels your very sharp nails trail up her stomach and latch at her sports bra causing it to rip as if it was being cut by scissors. “more.” you whisper with a wide grin.

“what?” ellie asked wide eyed. “i want more. i think im going to keep you.” you whisper in her ear.

༊*·˚

I, Ellie Williams, am allowing succubus y/n to take on a human form and co habitat with me. I will fulfill her needs of sex so that she may stay by my side and use me for a long as she wills.

signed: ellie williams

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + -- mature short content !

Content Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, stalking, manipulation, and violent fantasies. It delves into the unhealthy and dangerous mindset of a stalker obsessed with you. Reader discretion is advised.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

INCLUDES: Stalking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, cunnilingus, fingering, fem reader, choking, mentions of cheating, p in v sex in public, murder, death, he's not a good person, dom yandere?, degradation?, he can be a bit of a gaslighter, gore, and more.

*This is the third fic to this little mini series. Check out the first part, and the second part for a better understanding! He is referred to as "your stalker." The italicized portion is his inner thoughts! This fic is inspired by the show You, and this is purely fictional writing!*

SYNOPSIS: Your stalker's obsession intensifies as he becomes involved with another woman named Daniella Foster, who he views as inferior to you. Despite his disdain for your best friend, he engages in a flirtatious and sexual relationship with her, all the while fantasizing about you.

What's more dangerous than a sick, psychotic, and perverted man?

I ran out of your blood today.

Just four hours ago, I was completely fine. The vial of your period blood was nearly empty, but I was able to stick my finger inside to collect the last of your crimson essence. I sucked a particularly big blood clot off my finger, and I was able to start my day with a huge smile.

Four hours ago, I could claim that I was a normal and functioning man, someone you wouldn’t blink an eye at, and that was all thanks to you.

Four hours ago, I was able to brush my teeth, take a shower, and clean myself up for the day. I had an extra pep in my step, and I felt like I could take on the world with a positive outlook.

Don’t you see how much life you give me? Your blood alone has made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I could float up into space with just your plasma to help me survive.

But now, it was gone.

Your stalker stared blankly at the window as his body was jostled side to side, his hands tightly gripping the handle of his tote bag that rested on his lap. He tried to ignore the obnoxiously sick person near him, who didn’t even bother to cover their coughs. He closed his eyes to avoid staring into the eyes of another person across from him. He was sandwiched between two burly people: one shouted loudly into their phone, clearly having zero spatial awareness, while the other snoozed. The woman's head drooped as she nodded off, and her greasy hair brushed against his cheek.

She had a distinct smell of sweat and wet socks. Your stalker apologized to the man next to him as he slightly leaned his body away from the woman. He was stuck in this position unless someone took pity on him and spoke up.

His car was in the shop. The tire had unexpectedly given out, causing him to swerve into oncoming traffic. The car was old anyway, a gift from his parents when he first got his license in high school. That must have been, what, ten years ago? He didn’t like to think about his age; nothing good ever came from it anyway.

Your stalker rummaged through his bag, his hand searching for the familiar plastic tube he used to steal your period blood. His fingers brushed against a particularly sharp blade he kept for “safety” reasons before they wrapped around the vial. He had really tried to savor it. He would carefully open his mouth and tilt the vial just enough for a single drop of blood to settle onto his tongue. Sometimes he would pour a bit into his coffee, or he would put it into his food. Either way, it made him feel closer to you. It was a comforting notion to think about, that he was the only man and human who had access to you in such an intimate way.

Your stalker sighed as he put the empty tube back into his breast pocket for safe keeping.

He didn’t like taking public transportation. New York was known for having odd things happening on the trains, buses, and subways. He was pretty sure that last week someone had set a rat on fire, a poor woman got robbed in broad daylight, and a group of teens were filming their dumb YouTube prank videos on the elderly.

Your stalker felt a flare of irritation as the woman leaned on his shoulder again. He gently nudged her off and ignored the way she woke up all startled. He glanced down at his phone, counting the number of stops, and saw he had twelve more before he could get off.

He was going to Manhattan for a job. An absolute douchebag had hired him, and his name was Myron Vykolv. He was the type to spend his money on trips and a bedazzled car rather than giving back to charity. Vykolv was an artist's worst nightmare: fickle, a headache to deal with; but surprisingly, he had good taste in art. He had to; he hired your stalker, after all.

He pulled out his phone to scroll on social media, his eyes scanning the copious amount of braindead content, and he paused when he saw a familiar face. He pressed the buttons on the side of his phone, his screen flashing, and the screenshot he took was saved in his photo album. Your stalker zoomed in, and his eyes widened as he saw the perfectly harmonious facial features. The baby tee top had a cute graphic splayed on the chest area, hair slicked and pulled back into a bun, and gold hoops dangling from those nicely formed ears.

It was you.

He glanced down at the caption: "a coffee date with my favorite bff." Posted exactly five minutes ago. It wasn't your account, but it was the closest thing he had to you. Your stalker decided to follow your coffee-manic and bikini-loving friend, and every post and picture she had, you were in it too.

She made it almost easy to stalk. Jesus, what if a deranged man had decided to show up to her place in the Beverly Hills area on the street of— seriously? Did she really just post her full address online?

Daniella Foster. The epitome of a fun and ditzy socialite who spent way too much time at parties and clubs. A trust fund baby if there ever was one, with her daddy being a big shot in the entertainment industry. Despite all that privilege, she never quite made it big herself.

Your stalker snorted as he saw the array of failed projects she had been in. Modeling? Wasn't in the cards for her. Acting? Horrible. A piece of cardboard would've had more personality than her. Originally from Tampa, Florida, then she moved to California, where she had her comically large house, and then… she decided to bless us by coming to New York. Lucky us, right y/n?

Your stalker looked up from his phone and realized the train had come to his stop. He got up from his seat and quickly made his way out. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and looked down: Daniella requested to follow you. That was fast.

He clicked accept.

She's a shameless flirt, your stalker soon found out, and he’s not the least bit surprised. Daniella slid into his DMs with a picture of her provocatively sucking a lollipop, and her first words to him were: “What do you look like?”

Gee, take a gander, Daniella. My profile picture is a high-definition shot of my handsome and sexy fucking face. But sure, ask me about my looks as if you were actually interested. Your stalker rolled his eyes. He didn’t even want to respond to that message, but he had no other way of seeing you again. You would probably run at the sight of him, and that would be the most sane and correct thing you could do.

So, what does a man say when he’s mediocre, average, and you’re clearly out of his league? “I look like the man of your dreams, sweetheart.”

Your stalker had spent hours sexting and courting this woman who had flooded his inbox. Even when he was painting for a client, he managed to multitask and send a dick pic. He sent her whatever she wanted to keep her hooked, and just by her messages alone, this must have been the only time a man actually matched her level of craziness and horniness.

Days turned into weeks and then soon into months. The moment he woke up, he would see that she had sent him hundreds of messages in one night—she must've been drunk again.

He spent hours reading each message, and he hearted the ones that he felt were the most important. It was actually coming to an end, thank God, but to his surprise, she asked him out on a date.

"So, what do you do? Who are you?" The girl in front of him asked.

He shouldn't have said yes because now he was sitting in a restaurant that he could barely afford or get a reservation to, and he had to be with this woman who wasn't you. She was dressed beautifully - he'd give her that. He liked the dark colors of her red dress, the way he could drink in the curves of her hips and chest, and how it gave him a clear view of her body.

Now, he wondered what you would have worn if you were on a date with him. Would you have put in this much effort and shown this much skin? Would you have laughed at all of his jokes to boost his damn ego, or knocked him down a peg? Would you have ordered something light so you could have sex afterward, or would you have eaten something hearty and called it a day?

He pretended to think for a while, all before he gently touched her hand, and his fingers caressed her soft skin. "Who am I?" He teased, his voice slightly deepened as he gave her a playful once-over. "I'm hurt. After all these months, you still don't know who I am?"

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" She tilted her head.

Your stalker sighed and he looked around briefly. This place was intimate, for high rollers only, and he could just imagine how much of his money was going to go down the drain. The tiny candle on the table, the white clean cloth, and the vase with a single rose was still too romantic for his taste. His thumb traced circles on her hand, and the other grabbed for his steak knife.

“I'm an up-and-coming artist,” He replied with a bit of a shrug.

“An up-and-coming artist, huh?” She echoed, her fingers now interlocked with his. “Do you come often?”

Lord, please have some mercy and shoot me. Do I come often? Wouldn’t you like to know, you slut. Is this the type of person you really want to spend your time with, y/n? Daniella is not you, and she could never be you. She parades herself around for anyone and everyone to ogle at—she is the epitome of what’s wrong with the dating scene. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No wonder she’s desperate enough to entertain me—of all people.

I know the type of people you like, Daniella, and it’s not me.

“You know what you’re doing when you ask me that.” he brought her hand up to his lips and he kissed it. “I can tell you can make a man come often.“

Daniella giggled and her chest puffed out. She leaned closer to him, and he can practically drown in her scent of vanilla and cake. “I have an art piece that I think you'll appreciate. It's back at my place… wanna see it?”

Fuhhhhhck no. Your stalker slipped the knife into his pocket.

Your stalker smirked and he leaned in closer as well. He could see the makeup on her face, the gloss on her lips, and he could see a glimpse of her ample breasts. “I don’t know… is it one of a kind?”

Underneath the table, her leg started to caress his, and her foot slowly found its way to his crotch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and he held onto her hand tighter. As much as he hated this, he would have been lying if he had said that the attention wasn’t nice. He felt the pressure around his groin tighten as she pressed her foot onto it, and she gently rubbed it up and down while maintaining eye contact.

“It’s an original piece…something that can’t be replicated. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Daniella said coyly, and she bit down on her plush lips.

She knew when to strike when the iron was hot. A taxi was called, and she made out with him in it. Her body was pressed up against his, and she felt his hand grip on her ass. His hand then slid up her thigh, his fingers ripped her black sheer stockings and two of them found their way to her entrance. He bit down on her bottom lip and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

She's a fun girl. She knew exactly how to inflate a man's ego and pride. He heard her sweet, light moans, and her hips started to grind onto his hand. His thumb played with her clit, and they only pulled away when the cab arrived at her house. He grabbed her hand and tossed a couple of bills at the driver. He slammed the door shut, and before she could unlock the door to her house, he pressed her against his body.

"W-We're in public...!" Daniella's face was flushed and she tried to close her legs, but your stalker was quick to pull them back apart.

He narrowed his eyes and tugged down her panties. "So? Don't tell me you have morals all of a sudden." he snorted.

He wished that she would just shut up. She opened her mouth to rebuttal but he wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her still and quiet, and he shimmied off his pants just enough for his cock to be out. "I didn't come here for you to talk all the damn time. Shut it, before I put that mouth of yours to good use."

Your stalker lifted her up and made her wrap her legs around him. His dick then entered inside her, and he groaned at how wet and ready she felt. It's been awhile since he felt actual warmth, and her walls started to clench around him. His breath is ragged as he fucked her. His eyes were closed and he couldn't help but bite down onto her shoulder. Daniella cried out, and her body was tense as his teeth broke into her skin.

"God... you needed this, didn't you?" He purred as he licked up the puncture wound. Your stalker then looked down to watch his cock disappear into her. "You need someone to fuck your brains out." He sharply thrust into her again, and his hands dug into the plush of her ass to help with the momentum.

Your stalker dragged his tongue across her bleeding shoulder, then pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. With one hand still gripping her body, he used the other to shove his fingers down her throat, silencing her whimpers."You're the prettiest whore I have ever seen. Isn't that right, y/n?"

Your stalker truly believed he was being intimate with you. Daniella, who? All he knew was you. All he ever wanted was to feel you, to taste you, and to be able to hear you mewl around his cock. He wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, to paint your skin with butterfly kisses, and for him to finally come inside you again and again. It actually pissed him off to no end that he had to be stuck here with her.

When he felt himself getting closer to the edge, he unceremoniously pulled out of her, and his white stream of cum dripped down onto the ground. He sighed as his dick softened, and he gently helped her stand on her own legs again. His hand dipped underneath her body, his fingers playing with her wet folds, and he spread them apart to furiously rub at her clit. Daniella gripped onto his arm to keep him firmly there until she felt her leg shake.

Your stalker watched with a bit of fascination as what seemed like an endless amount of juices squirted out of her. He got onto his knees and helped her to sit onto his face. After he cleaned her all up, your stalker suddenly remembered something and his hand patted down his pockets.

"Hey... I think I'm missing my phone." He started his little lie. "Can I borrow yours? I forgot that I had an important call--"

"Bag." She just said and pointed to the one that was tossed to the side.

He muttered a "thanks" before he went over and rummaged through her purse. "What do you think about doing this again?" he kept an eye on her as his hand aimlessly tried to look for her phone. "I had fun tonight, and I'd like to see you one more time."

He could feel the various items in her bag. A packet of cigarettes, two lip products, house keys, a whole perfume bottle, but fuck where was her phone?

He watched as Daniella rolled down her scrunched up dress. The woman then raised her brow and she crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure you said another woman's name."

"I didn't." He said rather quickly. "You drank a lot of wine--it was almost like you were trying to bankrupt me." He joked, and his hand firmly gripped onto what felt like a smooth case. He pulled it out of her bag and there it was. "What's your password?"

"Trying to change the subject, are we?"

"I'm pretty sure your phone is the subject, unlock it pretty please?"

Daniella pulled back her hair and she stared at him expectantly.

"I said give me your password, not a blowjob." Your stalker frowned.

She gave him an exasperated look. "It's my face dumbass." she then snatched her phone back from him.

"You don't use your thumb? What kind of update is that?"

"God, you're so poor." He heard her mutter.

That was so unwarranted, and sort of hurt.

Though it made him feel a lot better when he finally decided to slit her throat. Now that she was distracted, he discreetly pulled out the steak knife from his pocket before he dropped her bag and roughly yanked her back to him. His hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as he dragged the serrated blade across her neck. The knife sawed through flesh, muscle, and sinew, blood spurting and gushing with each desperate pulse of her heart. It took him a while to sever her head completely, his arm burning with exhaustion as he hacked away, the blade catching on bone and gristle, her life draining away in a torrent of crimson.

Your stalker wiped his bloodied hand on her dress, he grabbed the phone off the ground, and he groaned when he saw that the screen was cracked. He tried his best to work the damn thing, his finger poking at the messaging app multiple times before it decided to open. Daniella had a plentiful amount of unsaved numbers but they had weird emojis next to them. One number was from a different country and had the eggplant emoticon.

Then he found the only saved number: y/n.

You're apparently a good girl and shared your location with your best friend. How adorable, you even share every given moment with her too. You even talked about how you were thinking about going back to your serial cheater of an ex.

Your stalker gasped, his head reeling back in shock. You were about to go back to your ex? Your ex, of all people? You couldn't have, what—moved on like a normal person? You couldn't have gone out and fucked around with someone new? Someone like him? It's like you purposely make the wrong choices just to be saved. Before he could be your little personal super hero... his eyes slowly made its way back to the body on the ground, and then to the keys that were in her bag.

Have you ever heard of cuteness aggression? The rush of impulsive behavior that you get after seeing a cute and defenseless puppy? I get that when I see you. I think you're so adorable that it makes my heart burst. Your stalker stared up into your apartment, and the car windows were rolled down to air out the perfume he dumped into the body bag.

However, there was nothing cute about this ugly pig-like fuck that touched your waist. That man had no redeeming qualities, and boy, did I want him to start squealing in pain. I wanted to pinch his body until he had yellowish-brown bruises all over. I wanted to crush his skull with my bare hands and feel his pulse drop. I wanted to be able to drink the blood shower that would come from their body and bathe in it. I want them to realize that you’re off the market, and that you’re solely mine.

They’re not good for you, love. You have seen that time and time again, and they have disappointed you before without fail; so why do you welcome them with open arms? It hurts to see your legs over their shoulders, and to see a bit of your face contorted in pleasure and ecstasy. Is it the sex? Is it the way they give you a fleeting moment of what could have been if they weren’t constantly cheating on you?

That’s pathetic, and you know it. But it’s okay, I’m willing to look past this little transgression. It’s not completely unforgivable. They must’ve broken you down and made you vulnerable enough to pull your pants down. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

Your stalker continued to stake out your house, patiently waiting for your ex to come down to the lobby. The moment he did, your stalker would be ready. He might not have been able to get your blood, but killing your ex and taking his was like killing two birds with one stone.

Allure: This is the first fic I wrote that actually has y/n in it! And it's pretty unedited, so if there is mistakes I will probs fix it later on. This dragged on for waaay longer than it needed and tbh, I am never writing a long fic like this again LMAO

[utahimeow]

cw — nsfw content. minors dni. boxer!wriothesley, established relationship, handjob, slight size kink

warm water wraps around you as though a blanket, envelops you as though a coccoon. steam crawls softly into the air, wispy as it winds its way into your lungs and tucks away every last thought in your brain.

the scent of cherry blossom settles into every corner of the bathroom and mingles with the soft vanilla of the candles you lit. tealights glow like little fireflies all around the tub. with your eyes closed, you’re floating along a river in an enchanted forest, until a door clicks and you’re back in your quaint city apartment.

not that that’s a bad thing—after all, the noise signifies the return of your lover.

there’s about a minute of shuffling outside and the heavy thud of his duffle bag hitting the floor. then, the door handle dips slowly and wriothesley slinks into the haven you’ve made of your bathroom.

he crosses the room in one stride, but before you have the chance to open your eyes to examine his face like he knows you will, he cups your entire face in one huge hand and draws you in until his mouth is on yours.

his lips are hot, the bottom one slightly swollen and bumpy in a way that you know in an instant it’s been bruised.

it comes with the job is what he always tells you. you think he’s trying to convince himself more than you. he’s broken your heart a thousand times, coming home with cut cheekbones and blood streaming from his nostrils at least once a week, and still it never gets easier for you to see.

if it were up to you, you would lock him up inside your ribcage and keep him safe, stowed away from the relentless world.

he’s stopped letting you come to his fights. he did a while ago—his version of ‘protecting’ you. he figured it was worth giving up sharing the triumph of his victories with you if it meant you didn’t have to witness the violence he was paid to do, to have done to him. it also meant you were left to stay at home and bask in a pool of your own dread until he came through the front door again.

i fight for you, my dear is what he always tells you. he doesn’t listen when you tell him that you wish he didn’t have to.

wriothesley starts to climb into the spot behind you, but you shake your head no.

“sit in front,” you say, soft.

wordlessly, he obeys.

you continue, “did you win?”

“‘course i did,” he says, like he’s telling you the weather. “it was a rookie though. almost beat my ass. he could be trouble in a couple years.”

you hum. the water sloshes as he settles in the nook created by your thighs, his broad, hulking back facing you.

wriothesley is a mountain. he stands at six foot five, his muscles hard and thick and honed to perfection. he is the personification of raw power, and yet when your thumbs rub tight circles into his shoulder blades, he melts like wax.

your gentle fingers work away the stubborn knots beneath his skin. his breathing bounces off the bathroom tiles, deep and heavy yet full of relief, as your touch helps him slip further and further from the weapon that he becomes in the ring.

the tips of your fingers trace along his spine, sliding over each vertebra. they ghost over his shoulders, gliding forward until they run along his collarbones.

with your arms hooked around his neck, wriothesley allows you to pull him backwards lightly until his back is flush to your bare front, and you hold him. there is nowhere you want to be more than here, with your flesh moulded with his.

you reach for his wrist, lifting his hand out of the water, rubbing your thumbs over his bruised, bloodied knuckles. after you’ve cleansed them, you bring them to your lips and you kiss them one by one. then you reach for his other hand, wipe away his sins, and forgive them with your lips.

moments like this remind you of what wriothesley was like when you first met him. a stray dog in human form— he cowered from your touch, bared his teeth and growled and snapped at you. he had no trust left in him, therefore all he knew how to do was fight.

like all stray dogs, however, he started to let you in, slowly. he started to come to you. he knew he could come to you. quickly he figured out that your lap was his favourite spot.

now, he lays between your thighs, while your lips press wet kisses at the top of his spine, and along his shoulder blade, and in a trail up his neck. he lets you kiss and suck and bite and devour him all you want, mark him up, make him yours. there is nowhere he wants to be more than here, melting into you.

a deep moan, almost inaudible, rumbles in his chest as he breathes out, a sound that makes you throb between your legs and your lips twist into a grin.

you lean in close to his ear, let your warm breath ghost over the skin of his neck. “can i touch your cock?” you ask in a whisper.

“please,” he grumbles, but it’s far from desperate. wriothesley does not beg—his plea is to encourage you.

one of your hands trails down his rigid body until you find his cock, half-hard at the bottom of a dark trail of hair, and your fingers curl around him, but he’s so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. you thumb at his slit, drawing small circles around his blushing tip, the way you know makes him utterly weak.

the moment you start to move, gliding your hand slowly up and down his cock, wriothesley’s head falls back against your shoulder, his body slumping as he surrenders himself to your touch. he sighs out, like he’s trying to expel the stress that’s within him, relishing in the way you work him.

biting your lip, you start to pick up your pace, jerking him off with a tad more vigour. you tighten your fist around the head of his cock, feeling the muscles of his back stiffen against your chest as you do.

it’s uncharacteristic how pliant he becomes sometimes, so putty in your hands in a way that makes you wonder if this is the same man who can put his opponents in a coma. he batters and beats them bloody, just to come home and fall apart in your arms.

“am i making you feel good?” you murmur into his skin, tugging at his cock steadily.

“fuck yes,” he replies, a low growl. “always do, baby.”

wriothesley’s gravelly voice travels straight to your core, spurring you on, so you flick your wrist just a little faster, again. you squeeze him a little tighter before loosening your grip, going back and forth in a way that makes the man’s head spin.

you’re peppering his neck and shoulder with kisses, lips fluttering over his skin tenderly in hopes of drawing him nearer to his edge. blood rushes to his face, his cheeks and nose burning hot pink, his lips parting slightly as he pants. the one downside to having him like this—you can’t see his pretty face.

he can’t help how his hips buck slightly up into your hand, following the swift strokes of your wrist. you go faster, filled with the urge to help him finish, determined to help him find euphoria.

he’s achingly hard in your hand now, throbbing against your fingertips.

“‘m fuckin’ close,” he mumbles, breathy and low, lifting his head off your shoulder to watch the way your hand drags up and down his cock.

and the sight alone is enough to make him cum—he groans, roaring loud, throwing his head back onto your shoulder, the ridges of his abdomen clenching as his cock twitches and his release dribbles from his tip, warm and thick as it covers your hand.

his body shakes against yours. you’re pressing your lips to his hot skin again while he comes back down from his climax, breathing hard, sinking further into your body now that you’ve loosened him up even more.

“fuck. need a nap now,” wriothesley rasps.

you giggle, full of affection for him. “then do it. promise i won’t drown you.”

“i would, but baby, this bath is not made for people who are six-foot-five. my back’s starting to hurt,” he says, rising out of the water and stepping out of the bath. fully bare, he looks like a greek god. when he turns back around, you’re pouting.

“maybe you’re getting old,” you quip. the way you stare at him reminds him of a cat.

he quirks an eyebrow. you don’t see it coming when he lunges forward and scoops you up out of the bath, and you’re squealing.

“good, so i’ll be dead soon. won’t have to put up with you any longer,” he says, but he’s wrapping a towel around you and patting you dry, and his icy blue eyes are brimming with a fondness reserved for nobody else but you.

[divine-knight-hand]

The End of an Era

Regina George Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: (Reneé Rapp's) Regina George x Female Reader

Summary: After the iconic Christmas dance fiasco, one of Regina's long-time admirers decides to make sure she's okay.

Content Warnings: Mentions of being a pervert, but fluffiness from there, brief mentions of weight change and dieting, a poetry reference, a bit of toxic behavior (and verbal degradation) but Regina is a queen and I'm wearing rose-colored glasses, nothing spicier than kissing, but their is some dubious consent (but the want is mutual!)

Notes: Christmas dance scene moment!!! I just recently saw the new Mean Girls and Regina George was all that was on my mind since. So, I quickly wrote this up. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,624

Dividers by @anitalenia

I’m no better than a man… I thought as I ogled Regina while she danced onstage.

Most of the student body didn’t care for the plastics’ “Rockin’ Around the Pole” routine, but I made sure I had the best view of it every year. I already knew before this year’s performance that it would be a little different. I recognized the group’s newest member, Cady Heron, from homeroom. Regina quickly took an interest in her when she first transferred in, and she became the newest member of the plastics.

I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. What did it feel like to have Regina look at you in fascination? What did it feel like to be taken under her wing? How many times did Cady hang out with her? How many times did Cady go to Regina’s house?

The clapping of the girls’ leather boots made me jump, and my eyes zeroed back in on Regina. No, I didn’t actually care for the performance itself, but from freshman year, when I first saw Regina in the same tight-fitting crop top, short skirt, long gloves, and thigh-high boots, I was awe-struck. Since then, I’d taken to watching her from afar, which was easy to do, since she always made her presence known when she entered a room. With each passing day, I grew more and more enamored with her.

I found myself instinctively leaning in once the girls set up one of the grandest moves in their performance. Karen took to the bottom as Gretchen guided Regina into a handstand on her knees from behind. I willed my eyes down to Regina’s face once she made it into position.

Though I spent the performance letting my eyes travel along her body–looking at her thighs in the space between her skirt and boots, her exposed sliver of midriff under her crop top, and watching the way her beach blonde waves fell to frame her gorgeous breasts–I would not be perverted enough to hone in on her crotch as her skirt flipped. My mind might already be in the gutter, but I’d still have a little class.

I’d noticed that her clothes seemed to be fitting her a little tighter than normal this year. There were rumors floating around that Regina was gaining weight, but I also heard that she was on some health kick with special weight loss bars, so that couldn’t have been possible. It had to have just been in my head.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly, Karen’s legs began to shake, and as Regina lost her balance, Gretchen lost her grip, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground in front of a surprised Cady. The audience let out a unanimous gasp as Regina hit the floor face-first. Oh, shit!

It didn’t take long for all the cameras to start flashing, and the look on Regina’s face told me she knew that her life as the untouchable leader of the plastics was quickly coming to a close.

I figured that famous poet who said the world doesn’t end “with a bang but a whimper” clearly didn’t consider the fact that a teenage girl’s world could get explosive in an instant, without a single warning. I’m sure they’d change their mind once they met Regina George.

The curtains began to close, but not before I saw Regina take to her feet and speed backstage. I felt terrible for her. Was she one of the meanest people in the school? Yes. But, I was also in love with her- I mean- a firm believer that nobody deserved that level of humiliation. Not even mean girls. So, out of a sense of heartache and longing to comfort her, I did what any normal and not creepy person would do. I jumped out of my seat and went after her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I couldn’t actually follow Regina backstage, since I wasn’t in the talent show, so I ducked into the bathroom closest to the auditorium. As soon as I opened the door, I saw her, and my heart leapt into my throat.

She slammed her fists down on the sink in front of her, letting out an angry growl.

I gently closed the door behind me, not wanting to alert her yet, but my shoe audibly squeaked against the floor, and Regina’s head snapped in my direction.

I gasped once I saw her. It was an instant, and she quickly turned away, but after she made mascara tears a school-wide trend, it was hard not to notice when they were on her face.

“Get out.” She spat, still facing the other way.

“I- I wanted to see if you were okay.” I stammered.

“I didn’t say to start spewing mushy shit,” She insisted in that same cold tone. “I said to get the hell out.” When I didn’t immediately move, she roared. “NOW!”

I reeled backwards in surprise when she got loud, feeling an instant sense of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll go.” I turned to grab the door handle, but paused when I heard her sniffle again. “You know, I come to see your performance every year.”

“Yeah, everyone does, because I’m amazing.” I turned my head to see Regina impatiently drumming her fingers on the sink, gloves long abandoned. “What, did you think you were different?”

“No,” I admitted. “I know that nothing I do really sets me apart from anyone else in this hellhole.” She snorted at my remark, and I dared to slowly approach her. “So, yeah, I’m just like everyone else. I came to see your dance. I follow all the trends you set. I turn my head whenever you walk into a room. Hell, whenever you turn up, you’re all I can see.”

She snapped her head back to me, her face set in a stoic expression. “Are you mocking me right now?”

“No, no!” I stopped my advancements, waving my hands to emphasize. “I would never!” I moved my hands to my pockets, eyes drifting down to my shoes. “If anything, I was mocking myself. I’m just like any other nobody in North Shore. I honestly wouldn’t expect you to recognize me. Sorry for bothering you.” I bit my lip in shame, debating whether or not I should leave.

A beat of silence passed before I made up my mind to go, but before I had the chance, Regina spoke up. “You’re Y/N L/N.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ew.” Regina closed the gap between us, coaxing my mouth closed with a hand under my chin. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” I muttered, heat creeping into my cheeks. She touched me! She actually touched me!

“I do know you.” Regina went on. “It’s a bit hard not to notice when someone’s practically stalking you.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. “I… I…”

A faint smile stirred at her painted red lips. “Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

What? “What?”

“Ugh, get your ears cleaned.” She rolled her eyes. “I said I think you’re cute. Do you honestly think I’d let you creep on me if you weren’t?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.” Regina moved my hand before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I liked your eyes on me.” She pressed her body against mine, and I hoped she couldn’t feel my heart fluttering. “Everyone watches me, of course, but you’re the only one I like watching me.”

“Regina…” I breathed.

“Oh. My. God.” Regina scoffed. “Stop being such a prude and wrap your arms around me. What are you, a nun?”

“S- sorry…” I muttered, moving my hands from their tense position at my sides to hold her. I felt electricity under my fingers once they made contact with the skin of her midriff.

“That’s… better.” Regina ran her tongue over her teeth, like a hungry shark eying its prey. “I don’t wanna kiss you without your hands on me.”

WHAT?! “Wha-” She cut me off by pulling me into the promised kiss.

She rolled her body against mine, and I sighed, my eyes fluttering shut as I let her tongue into my mouth. Her hands clawed against my back as she tried to pull me closer.

She pulled away, only to keep kissing my face. She kissed all over my cheeks before trailing her kisses along my neck to the collar of my shirt. I shivered as one of her hands pulled at my shirt, and I felt her lips against the sweet spot in my neck.

“Regina…” I breathlessly sighed. “I adore you…”

“I know~” I felt her mouth spread into a grin against my mouth.

Then, all too soon, she pulled away from me, fixing her hair as she looked me up and down.

“You came to ask me if I was okay, right?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Y- yeah,” I stuttered, still in shock from our kiss.

“Well, I’m better now~” She winked. “So, thanks for that.”

Before I could even formulate an idea on what I could possibly say next, she was out the bathroom door.

What just happened? I wondered just before my reflection caught my eye. I was covered in blotches of red lipstick. It was scattered on my cheeks, coloring my neck, and smudged across my lips.

I gingerly reached a hand up to admire myself. I was all marked up. I was Regina’s.

After tonight, we knew Regina might not have been queen of the plastics anymore, but I hoped that she left the room with the understanding that she would always be a queen to me. Her world didn’t end with a bang or a whimper. It ended with a kiss.

[elfven-blog]

Proven Right

Summary: Leon has been fascinated with his neighbour for 5 years now, and he finally comes back from Spain with a plan. RE4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, Stalking, camera watching, compromising picture, mutual masturbation , p in v, creampie (if I have missed any please let me know)

Word count: 3K

It had started when he had moved out of the training dorms and finally into his own apartment. There had been a subtle scent of peaches float past his open door as he moved the meagre number of possessions he had into the small apartment. It had been 5 years since then, and yeah, he could have moved since then. Lord knows he could afford it, but that would also mean moving away from you.

The scent of peaches quickly became his favourite, after he’d managed to befriend you over the years and had access to your home he’d found some of the products you used. The peach scrub, peach body mist and some of the lip gloss you wore too…he had duplicates of all of them. He’d even brought the same shampoo and conditioner as you once but then you made a comment about how you preferred his previous smell, and he quickly went back to that.

It wasn’t just your scent that he had adopted, he learnt to cook some of your favourite food (loving the look on your face when he had ‘extra’ and the way you’d bake him brownies in response), he’d watched your favourite film over and over until he had it memorised and could make offhand comments when you watched it together, and he’d even read up on that game with zombies that you seemed so obsessed with. Had even helped you beat some of the harder fights…and God Leon has sworn to get better video games, the way you watched with awe as he fired the virtual gun and how you flung your arms around him and pulled him so tight that he could feel your breasts press up against him.

Maybe he had that banked in his memory store to use in the shower.

“Lee! Oh my god, are you okay?” He was pulled from his trailing mind at the sound of that sweet voice as he turned from his door to look at you. Dishevelled, door open most of the way, slippers on his feet and it looked like you had rushed to the door at the sound of his key in his own doors lock. But wait…was that his shirt? He thought he had lost it months ago; he must have left it at yours during one of your many movie nights. You could keep it, looked so much better on you. “I was so worried”.

About him? You’re so sweet. He smiles at you, nodding his head and moving away from his door to wrap his arms around you. This wasn’t an odd amount of affection for the both of you. Leon felt himself relax as your arms wrapped around him too, squeezing him tight. “Sorry darling, they really needed me at the other branch”.

He felt you pat his back, and he pulled away so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable with too long of a hug. You smile up at him as you both pull back, and he notices the bags under your eyes before you shrug at him “It’s okay, missed our weekly sleepover but you can make it up to me this weekend?” Leon had never nodded so fast.

He watched as you walked back into your apartment before opening his own and moving in through the door.

When Leon received your message that you had finished work, and he could come over he felt his heart race. He stared at himself in the mirror as he finished getting ready, making sure to use that cologne he’d noticed you seemed to enjoy. Always leaning closer when he wore it.

He had plan. Today, tonight. It would work.

Leon watched his phone on the counter as he made sure his cuts were covered and nothing would be too painful, the screen lit up with the inside of your apartment. And there you were, flitting around to make sure there were enough blankets and snacks, and you had even gone out and brought his favourite drink.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Something that would be immensely helpful tonight, these cameras that he’d helped you install for security reasons. It felt like pure luck when you asked him for that help, learning what make and company the camera was meant it was much easier to hack into. And getting one of the IT specialists to do it was even easier with his clearance. ‘Just want to see if I should get a different one if this is too easy get into’.

He moved out of the bathroom, phone still in hand as he grabbed the snacks he’d gone and brought for the both of you. Once he’d made sure his door was locked, triple checking just in case, it was mere seconds before he was letting himself into your apartment. Something you both often did when expecting each other, no need to knock. “Hey! Brought snacks” his rough timbre sounded out and you replied with a short ‘Living room!’.

He took his boots off at the door, making his way to where you were, smiling at you as he put the snacks down before sitting close to you on the sofa. His arm resting on the back, and his legs spreading. Leon had worn those jeans you’d complimented, the ones that hugged his legs in a way that showed the muscle he’d spent years building. You could never keep your eyes off his thighs in these jeans, and then you’d spend the rest of the night with your hand between your own.

You didn’t question the position he put himself in, it feels almost natural to be this close to him, to have his warmth permeate into your side as you leant your head back against his arm. You pulled the thick blanket over both of you, Leons brows furrowing as it covered the sight of his legs, so he pushed it off him and pulled it to cover more of you. When you turned your head to look at him he shrugged and mumbled an excuse of not being cold right now. You accepted the reason with a nod before asking what movie he wanted to watch.

The blonde pretended to think for a moment before taking the remote and putting a movie on, “This one’s meant to be good…haven’t seen it yet” He knew you hadn’t either, and there was no indication of the special part in this movie, one he knew would get you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

And it’s bit further into the movie where he’s proven right, you’ve been stealing glances at him all night. Your eyes lingering on his legs and the arm around the back of the sofa, which has, for unknown reasons, managed to slip down to round your waist. His fingers drawing circles across the soft skin of your waist. Distractingly. But you manage to keep your eyes on the screen, not wanting to ruin whatever friendship you’d built with the man and worried that he would never feel the same.

You had understood why he picked this movie, a great distraction from the ‘government job’ he’d told you he had. Never telling you specifics but it had him away for days at a time so it must be tiresome. But you hadn’t expected a full 10 minutes of sex to play part way during it, and by the way he sighed, and a pink dusted his cheeks neither had Leon. It was a good movie; you could power through a few minutes…okay 5 that’s a good length…10? Why’s it still going.

Eyes glued to the screen as your breath shallowed, and thighs pressed together you tried to pretend it wasn’t affecting you. That you weren’t imagining your hot blonde neighbour being the one to bend you over that desk like the protagonist currently was to the partner he had. That you weren’t thinking of him drawing those slow circles somewhere else.

Leons hasn’t been paying attention to the movie since the scene began, to focused on the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, or how your hand twitches against the blanket. His hand moves a little lower, pulling you closer to him and you don’t even realise. Just sink into his side. Your eyes almost have no colour, his hand plays with the band of your shorts. He moves himself slowly, legs pressed against yours and your head turns lightly.

A small gasp you hope he didn’t hear as you snap your head back to the screen. Pretending you didn’t see the bulge in his jeans, that it didn’t cause your pussy to flicker and fill with slick. This time it’s your turn to move, and hope Leon doesn’t notice. Your hand settles on his thigh, close but not where he wants it. Of course, he’s noticed, in fact he slides down in the seat. Your hand resting over his cock from where it strains in the fabric, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

His hips rolled up into your hand with a low groan, and you palmed at him wanting to hear more. Were you really doing this? Letting your neighbour use your hand to get off? Yes, God yes. It was then that you noticed his own hand had slipped below your shorts and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

“No underwear, sweet girl?” The tips of your ears turned red as one of his fingers slipped between your wet lips, gathering slick before swirling at your clit. “How brave, maybe you were hoping this would happen?” Just like him, except he didn’t hope, he knew. Just like he planned.

He drew a moan out of you as your thighs spread to give him more access, your own hand shakily moving to undo his jeans so you could pull him out. His head fell back at the contact of your cool hand on his hot skin, it felt so much better than he ever could imagine. His hand dipped further down to tease at your hole as it clenched around nothing, smiling at the sweet noises you gave him. They sounded so much better in person then on the shitty mic quality of the camera. Gifting you his owns whines as your hand squeezed the base of his cock before moving up at a slow teasing pace.

Neither of you paying attention to the movie playing, your head falling back onto his shoulder, and he took this opportunity to lean forward and lick his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes closed and you happily let him, mouth opening to reciprocate the messy kisses he was giving you. Leon kissed you like a man starved, until there was spit dribbling down your chin and you were squirming against his hand. Grinding your hips down as your thighs clenched around his wrist, you whined into his mouth and pushed up against him, needing more.

Leon pulled away and you pouted, chasing his mouth before his hand stopped you. His thumb swiping the saliva on your bottom lip before pushing past into your mouth. You suck his thumb, tongue swirling around it in the same way he circles your clit. Your hips buck into his hand, eyes pleading at him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, moving to press his ringers against the sweet spot in your cunt. “C’mon sweet girl, wont you come for me?”

And that’s all it takes for your back to arch, your legs to clench around his wrist as the building pleasure snaps and you gush against his hand. You feel it drip down your thighs and a wet spot grows on the sofa below you. Leon pulls his hand out, moving to lay you down “Is it okay if I?” You nod at him desperately, hands pulling at his shirt. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl, honey” He removes his jeans and under wear completely before pulling down your shorts.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of his cock slapping at his stomach, you had felt how big he was but you hadn’t seen it. “I don’t think you’ll fit, too big, Leon” He shakes his head, moving to kneel on the sofa, his hands hooking around your knees and pushing them up to your shoulders. Your hands clench at the blanket somewhat forgotten.

“It will fit, I’ll make it fit” He gave himself a few strokes before moving the tip between your dripping folds, bumping the clit, and making both of you moan “God baby, so hot” he groaned out as he pushed into you slowly, making you take him inch by inch. You whined as he stretched you out, hands moving to grip his arms. Leon’s movement stutters slightly at the feel of your nails digging into him, but he bottoms out and gives you a moment to adjust. “Told you, I’d make it fit. Feels good don’t it, pretty?”

Your eyes are closed, and you nod, “Yes! Feels so good, Lee” you tug his arms, hips rolling up and he gets the message. His own hips rut into you, he’s setting a face pace immediately and while he did want to take his time with you, he couldn’t wait. You both needed this, needed him buried deep inside you as he bullied his cock into you at a brutal pace. The blonde presses his body weight onto you, forcing your knees past your ears and his hips don’t stop.

One of his hands move your body, gently touching your breasts before stopping at your neck where it makes the prettiest necklace. He applies a slight pressure, enough to have you arching up and gasping as your eyes open to look up at him. And your legs shake at the sight of this man above you. He looks nothing short of an angel. Your cunt clenches around his cock as his hips snap into your thighs and the head bumps your cervix.

His other hand leaves a bruise of the fat of your thigh from the grip, he leans down to press another searing kiss to your mouth, and he keeps his pace up. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the apartment, and you almost feel sorry for your other neighbours if it wasn’t for the pleasure clouding your mind. His tongue licks into your mouth, wet and heavy as you try to keep up with his pace but your legs shake and he grins into the kiss before he’s pulling away “What’s wrong honey? Gonna cum again already? Don’t be shy, sweetheart”.

Leons mouth travels from yours to your neck, leaving marks into your skin that match the one on your thigh, until he’s level with your tits. His eyes remain on you as your head falls back. The sensation of his tongue swirling at your nipple and the drag of his cock against your walls has your mind spinning. Words fall on your tongue, turning into whimpers as he suckles at your breasts. He gently nips before moving on the other one “Looked a lil lonely, better make it even” and he does. Your nothing but a shaky mess below him while he decorates your skin in reds. He has you pinned down as your hips buck up.

Then the hand from your thigh moves between your bodies, down to where he’s been grinding into you. His thumb finding your sensitive clit again, the feeling as you squeeze down onto him again and he moans around your breast. Leon starts to rut into you slower, causing you to be frustrated but he only looks up at you from where he mouths at your nipple with a raised eyebrow. He does one hard and fast thrust and your head is thrown back. He keeps this rhythm up, slow thrusts with one fast for a while until your squirming.

“leon, please, faster, need” He lets go of your tit with a pop, moving so he’s kneeling up right. His hand squeezes your neck once before both are placed on the back of your thighs. Suddenly you get the feeling you should have let him continue his pace. But your eyes are rolling back as you try to find something to grip, his hips piston into you ruthless pace. Skin slapping against skin. Your mind is blank, and Leon adores the looks on your face as he fucks you merciless.

He feels your legs tremble below his fingers, and he pushes you further back so he can watch as your pussy sucks him in, trying to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Spit drools down your chin, your eyes unfocused on anything as you stare at the ceiling, unable to think of anything but the way Leon fucks you. With a loud moan, you reach that peak again. Legs kicking as well as they can in this position “Oh fuck!” falls from Leons mouth as he continues grinding into you, his body falling onto yours as he follows quickly. His hot load filling you with thick ropes.

You both lay there for a moment before you feel Leon move, he sits back up on his haunches, phone in hand. And you whine “Just want some pictures of my pretty girl, they’re all for me don’t you worry” the idea almost has you wanting to go again, instead you look at him and move your hands to help hold your legs up. Leon’s eyes darken as he begins taking pictures. Some of him still plugging you up, but most of the way his seed spills out of you and a video (that you don’t realise he’s taken) of him pushing it back in.

When he’s done and the phones back on the floor, he leans down to press sweet kisses to your mouth, his hand soothing over your thighs and gently massaging your breasts. “Want me to help you to the bathroom, sweet girl?” The nod you gives him is slow, your head still syrupy as he picks you up bridal style, carefully carrying you to the bathroom.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Unconventional Flowers Event - May

Mother's Day Lilies ft. Megumi

A/N: May prompt for my Unconventional Flowers Event. Note that Megumi is still a young child here, like maybe 8 years or so. Rating: E, safe, fluffy, cute Word Count: 939

Megumi had technically lost not one, but two mothers. His birth mother, frail in health, passing away shortly after his delivery, and then Tsumiki’s mother, who abandoned them. All in all, not a great experience on the mother front.

It was hardly a surprise that Megumi withdrew from you when you and Gojo started dating. Tsumiki, more in need of a maternal figure, grew attached quickly, but Megumi avoided you altogether. You didn’t blame him. After getting the whole story from Gojo, you felt your heart going out to the little boy but decided to give him more time to approach you.

You started slowly, asking him to watch a movie together, bringing back his favorite snacks whenever you visited Gojo, and helping him with his homework. You never tried to fill that motherly role, and eventually, Megumi started warming up to you, realizing you were not trying to pretend to be anything more than Gojo’s girlfriend. It gave him the emotional reassurance he needed, that you were not trying to fill the shoes of his lost mothers, but that you would be there if he needed you. 

You made sure to show affection to him and Tsumiki though, doing little crafts with them, taking them to the park, and poking fun at Gojo whenever it was appropriate. They grew attached to you, and they weren’t your kids, but they were yours. 

You hadn’t planned on unintentionally becoming a maternal figure to Gojo’s wards, but now you couldn’t imagine a day without them. Your heart almost floated out of your body with joy when Megumi asked you what your favorite flower was. 

“Lillies,” you said with affection in your eyes as you looked at the quiet boy, tall and slim for his age. He nodded solemnly and you couldn’t control your actions and pull him in for a squishy hug.

“You’re so adorable Megs.”

“Stop that! And don’t call me Megs!” Megumi wriggles only half-heartedly, trying to escape, before quieting down and letting himself be hugged. Deep down, he’s glad you’re here.

Megumi hunts down the prettiest lilies he could find in time for Mother’s Day. His eyes are alight with excitement. Gojo said you were around somewhere on the estate, and he's practically running to find you, carefully cradling the bouquet so that it doesn’t get crushed. He passes Tsumiki on the way, who sees the flowers and quickly stops him.

“You’re giving these to Nee-san?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t she’ll like these for Mother’s Day. Lilies are usually given at funerals. Do you want her to get the wrong idea? What if she leaves us?”

Megumi’s face crumples at his sister’s words. “But…they’re her favorites…”

“It’s not too late to get her something else.”

Megumi quickly runs back towards his room. How could he have known? He’s glad Tsumiki stopped him. What if he had found you…and given you the lilies? It was the first time he and Tsumiki had anyone even closely resembling a mother for an extended period. The thought of you being upset because he had been dumb enough to get such sad flowers for Mother’s Day…

“Megs?”

He freezes when he hears your voice and tries to hastily hide the flowers behind his back as you walk up to him. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Nothing!”

You see his shifty nature and the heads of the white flowers sticking out from behind his back. 

“Who are the flowers for?”

“No one!” He backs up a few paces, trying to put distance between you two.

“Megumi.” You catch up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you being weird?”

Caught, he looks away, trying not to tear up. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? About what?”

“I got you flowers.”

You look at him quizzically. “Why would I be mad that you got me flowers?”

“They were for Mother’s Day.”

If your heart wasn’t already full, it certainly was now. You feel warmth expanding in your chest at the admission. 

He was giving you flowers for Mother’s Day?

You try not to tear up and clear your throat. “And why do you think I’d be mad?”

Megumi’s face carries so much guilt that you want to pull him into his arms and reassure him but you give him a minute to find his words.

“I got you lilies. Because you said they were your favorite.”

“They are my favorite! Megs, why do you look so upset?”

“Well…I was told that lilies are given at funerals and that you’d be mad if I gave them to you today. Please don’t be mad.” He looks at you with such sad eyes that you can’t contain yourself any longer.

You pull him into your arms, cradling him protectively. “Oh, my dear little Megs. I’m not mad at all. You got me flowers? On Mother’s Day? Do you have any idea how happy I am?”

Megumi’s eyes widen in realization, comforted by your hug. “Really?”

“Yeah! I’m so happy you like me enough to get me flowers for this holiday.” You can’t find the will to let go of the boy and he doesn’t try to break free.

“You’re not mad?”

“Not the least bit.”

“So you won’t leave us right?”

You nod, feeling like your body is made of air. “You’re stuck with me I’m afraid.”

Comforted, Megumi finally shows you the bouquet which you accept delightedly. “You’re better than Gojo. He didn’t get me anything.”

“He’s a moron.” Megumi shakes his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I know you will.” 

You ruffle Megumi’s hair before the both of you start walking back to the house. 

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[reminiscingtonight]

Eras Of Us (Pt. 2)

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Part One

[WOSO Masterlist]

Nothing can break your high. 

Playing in your first London derby, scoring in your first London derby, is a feeling you’re never going to forget. 

Until someone so graciously reminds you of the implications of such a win. 

“Emma Hayes is gonna be my new coach,” you moan.

“Rough,” Alessia snorts, ignoring the way you smack at her arm.

The two of you are out with the rest of the girls, capping off the win against Chelsea with a couple of drinks at a bar near the stadium. Around you are a mix of reds and blues, all of the players good friends despite the outcome of the match. 

Despite starting your night hanging by Leah, the blonde basically mothering you to death since your move overseas, you somehow find yourself tucked into Alessia’s side merely a few minutes later. It makes your heart skip a beat when you feel her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. 

“It’s not funny! What if she takes me wrecking her club team personally and doesn’t give me a call up to the next camp?”

Alessia gives you a look.

It’s enough to make you feel chastised. You sigh, hanging your head. “Fine, she wouldn’t do that. But she might make me run extra laps as punishment!”

Alessia laughs again, shoving at head when you wack her arm again. “What ever happened to the (Y/N) who would run extra laps for fun?”

You know Alessia’s thinking of you dressed Carolina blue, sprinting up and down the pitch after practice ends, wanting to get in extra reps to keep your fitness up. It’s a fond memory, the player you were when you were younger, but you shudder, thinking of how it was really just a ploy to get Alessia to give you a backrub when you got home, the forward always quick to crumble to your sad eyes and exaggerated whines.

You pout. “She grew up.”

“Poor you,” she teases, pinching at your cheeks. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this much. 

You and Alessia have fallen into a good routine since you both joined Arsenal. There was no awkward tension around the two of you, no weird ‘I’m on the same team as my ex’ drama. If anything, there’s more ‘annoying years-in-the-making inside jokes’ shenanigans that you’ve brought with you. It’s almost like no time has passed. 

Once in a while you catch yourself thinking about the what-ifs. What if you never broke up. What if Alessia wanted to give this another shot. But you’re more than happy to live in the now. You and Alessia are friends now. That’s not something you’re willing to give up just for a shot at what you once knew. 

Looking down at her empty cup, Alessia lets out a low groan. You sheepishly hand her your empty cup as well, sweetly asking for a refill. She grumbles under her breath but grabs your drink nonetheless. “Don’t miss me too much!” she hollers over her shoulder as she disappears into the crowd. 

You find yourself staring even long after she’s gone.

With nothing left to distract you, you turn your attention back down to your phone. It’s funny seeing all of the posts on social media by the fans. Giggling to yourself, you like a couple of them before your attention is quickly captured again when you feel a small nudge against your arm. You look up to see Lotte smiling back at you. 

Scooting over, you give her enough space to plop down next to you in the booth. 

“Whatcha been doing hiding away here all night?”

You shrug, easy smile floating to your lips. “Haven’t been hiding. Less and I’ve just been hanging out. Lots of things to catch up on.”

The mention of the blonde striker has Lotte frowning a bit. You watch as she seems to think through her words. “Are you and Less…” she starts cautiously, pausing to gather her thoughts once more. 

“Are me and Less what?” 

The brunette shrugs. “I dunno, back together? Working things out? You guys just… you seem close again.”

It’s your turn to pause. In all honesty you haven’t really been thinking about what you and Alessia have been doing. Yes, you spend a lot of your free time together, and yes, Alessia always seems to seek you out when you all go out with the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean anything, right? 

Right? 

You settle for a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. I think… I think we’re just seeing where things go.”

Lotte nods, the look of unease still on her face. “Just be careful, alright? I’m happy if things work out between you guys but just don’t forget the history the two of you have.”

Lotte’s words stick with you.

Even days later, when Alessia and you are taking a stroll towards a nearby farmer’s market.

You’re not thinking when her hand automatically slips into yours, hands freely swinging between the two of you. Alessia’s telling you a story you’re only half listening to, more caught in your head than the walk in front of you.

Spotting a booth with your favorite flowers, you head towards them. Only to be yanked back by a firm hand. 

Alessia doesn’t let go of your hand.

You pull again. 

You can hear an amused noise but Alessia still doesn’t let you go. 

“Lessi! Let me go see the flowers,” you whine. 

This time when you pull, she lets you go with a chuckle.

They’re beautiful. 

The purples, the blues, the pinks. You run your hands over them, marveling in all of the beauty. 

You must be looking for too long, because your heart lurches when you feel the familiar weight of an arm wrapping around your waist, Alessia’s head dropping to your shoulder. It’s habitual, the way your hand drops to rest on top of hers.

You can feel Alessia smile against the side of your head.

And it hits you then. 

This feels familiar. Too familiar. 

This feels right. Too right.

This feels like everything you’ve been missing. 

“Less?”

The blonde hums, eyes not moving as her fingers continue to trace shapes on your stomach.

You huff. It isn’t until you’re shuffling around, fully facing Alessia that her eyes drop to meet yours. She’s clearly not expecting it, mouth dropped into an ‘o’.

“Hi?”

“Alessia, do you want to date me?”

It’s almost comical, the way her eyes widen, mouth somehow dropping even wider.

When it becomes clear that Alessia is at a loss of words you run a hand down your face, effectively pushing the blonde away from you.

“Look, I get it if you think I’m just imagining things, and I’ll totally understand if you want some space if all of this is just in my head, but I can’t help but feel like these are dates, these little trips around London you’ve been taking me. I haven’t felt this ‘wined and dined’ since the two of us first started dating all those years ago.”

You pause, leaving plenty of time for Alessia to interject.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she swallows. 

You watch as Alessia clenches and unclenches her hands, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

Neither of you say anything as the seconds pass, ticking into minutes. 

Eventually, with her eyes trained to her feet, “Do you want them to be dates?” Alessia asks quietly. Timidly.

A little too timidly.

And that’s when you realize what this is.

What it’s been about this entire time.

Alessia’s afraid you don’t want her.

“You’re an idiot.”

Fisting a hand into her shirt, you yank Alessia towards you. Her eyes widen just as your lips meet, hands floundering about until they rest on your waist.

When you break away, you make sure to memorize the look on her face. Eyes closed, peaceful lit to her face, it’s something you want to ingrain in your memory and never forget.

When Alessia’s eyes flutter open you give her a soft smile.

“I’m always going to want you,” you murmur, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 

You duck down, pressing your face into the crook of her neck as her arms automatically wrap around your back.

“I’d spend a lifetime trying to get over you, just to get to spend a single second as yours.”

You feel more than hear Alessia’s shaky breath in, arms tightening just a fraction around you. 

“I don’t want to ever get over you.” Your heart skips a beat at her confession. Her words are paired with a kiss on your hairline, signaling what you know is the end of this limbo, the beginning of your story starting anew.

No, things didn’t work out the first time.

But you aren’t stranded on opposite coasts this time. You aren’t leaving Alessia to start your professional career elsewhere. Alessia isn’t leaving you to go back home. 

You’re both in England. You’re both on the same team. 

Maybe this time things will work out. 

Because you love Alessia and she loves you. And that’s all you really need to know.

[dudeitiskarev]

My One and Only

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: It's Derek and Savannah's wedding, and to Hotch, you're the prettiest person in the room.

Content/warnings: mutual pining; secret relationship; food and alcohol consumption; smut (18+ only please. Minors do not engage).

Word count: 7.3k

Author’s note: this one of my all time favorite fics I’ve written that is also based on one of my fav songs by miss Taylor Swift ‘Dress’. thought I’d post it here since I’ve been gaining some new followers and as most of my fics, it’s only on AO3. If you’re new here, welcome and I hope you enjoy! Mwahh!

         Everyone’s eyes were on the bride—everyone but Hotch’s. Even before the ceremony started, his entire attention was on one of the bridesmaids: You.

         You, on the other hand, were mesmerized by Savannah walking down the aisle in her gorgeous wedding dress—you smiled even bigger when she joined Derek at the altar.

         “My god,” he said, staring into his soon-to-be wife’s eyes with a cheeky smile.

         Only then you sensed a strong gaze on you. You subtly turned your head to the crowd and like a magnet you found Aaron’s eyes. You gave him a quick threatening glance before bringing your attention back to the couple. You could almost hear him chuckle under his breath from that far.

         You’d talked about it when each of you got an invitation and he promised he would ignore you all evening, but it was hard keeping his eyes off you when you looked that stunning. That wouldn’t be a problem if one of Derek’s sisters wasn’t recording the wedding—oh, and if people knew about what you two had.

         “Maybe we should bring a plus one,” you’d told him as an idea to keep the best profilers clueless.  

         You’ve been more than his friend for almost a year and no one suspected a thing—truly. Apparently, profiling never worked when it came to people you interact with daily. You both were experienced profilers too, and since the beginning, you knew well how to act around each other to trick everybody at work into thinking you were still just two normal co-workers that got along.

         That’s how it was for over five years. Then it all changed when you both ended your respective relationships around the same time. Your breakup came first and was messier than his. He was there to catch your tears the same way you were all ears to him. You were lonely together and that woke up feelings neither of you thought would emerge from talking just a bit more than the usual. And one late-night kiss in his office was enough to start whatever you two had going on.

         You’d been confused for a while about how you felt about him and took the initiative to take it forward. You apologized right away because you didn’t plan to kiss him. Ever. But he said nothing, kissed you back, and took you right there over his desk—the first and only time he allowed himself to lose his professionalism at work.

         It was the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had and you became addicted to it—to him.

         The officiant started his speech and when Derek began to say his vows, you snapped out of your flashbacks, holding your flower bouquet tighter by impulse. Your stomach fluttered while his voice floated inside the intimate venue, and you could only imagine how Savannah was feeling. She brought her palm to her pregnant belly, keeping it there the entire time Morgan spoke his heart out. He was like a brother to you and the fact that he had found the one made you wonder who you were gonna have the chance to share vows with in a hopefully not-so-far future.  

         You slightly turned your head to the crowd again when it was Savannah’s turn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hotch, the only person you wanted a life with. The person you considered was the one for you.

         God, if he only knew.

         “ ...And I promise to love you, ” she said. “ Today. And tomorrow. And forever... ”

         Every word resonated with how you felt about Aaron and your chest swelled as if she was a messenger of your own heart. You hadn’t told Aaron yet but loved him, you have for a while now, but if there was another feeling beyond love, you sure felt it. You’ve never been so close to grazing the sky like you did whenever he kissed you; electricity rushed through you whenever you two were in between the sheets; with him around, you turned into the most stupid (in love) person in the room and you were more than fine with it.

         "... I'd choose you to be my miracle over and over again. In this world and in any other… ”

         You finally dared to look at him, finding his eyes on you again. Now he was the one who threatened you, gesturing for you to pay attention by raising his brows. You didn’t react—externally, anyway. Your heart was clenching because you’d never had this urge before; to jump over everyone and let the world know he was your miracle. That was the best way to describe who he was to you since he offered to be more than just a shoulder to cry on. He’d made you believe in love again and showed you how broken hearts can mend each other—heal together.

         You took a subtle deep breath and kept your chin up, determined to avoid any unspoken flirting with him until the ceremony got to the exchange of rings, ending with the most romantic kiss you’ve ever witnessed.

         “Okay! That’s enough!” Penelope—one of the bridesmaids too—said jokingly and the happy cheering got quickly replaced with laughs. You allowed yourself to search for Aaron then, something you always did whenever something funny happened just to see him laugh. His dimples were in their glory showing how proud he was. He may have never said it out loud, but you knew how much Morgan meant to him.

         And that was only the beginning of the big event. After the brief ceremony ended, it moved to another venue inside the same hotel and despite all the bright lights and loud music, love was still in the air. It even radiated through every photo taken at the photoshoot setup you and Spencer had built yourselves that same morning.

         “Didn’t know you guys were this artistic,” Morgan grinned as he ran his hand over a wall full of pink and white roses.

         “It actually doesn’t take an artistic person to build this exact wall at all. Even a toddler could’ve done it,” Reid said while nodding, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

         “Don’t listen to him.” You nudged his arm. “It took us four hours to build it.”

         “Oh, yeah,” Spencer agreed. “Four hours and thirteen minutes.”

         “We appreciate the effort,” Savannah laughed. “Now can we please take the pictures? Baby is getting hungry.”

         “Yeah, blame our baby,” Derek mocked her, placing his hand over her belly as he stood behind her, ready to pose in front of the professional camera. “I know you’ve been thinking about dinner all day.”

         Savannah replied something between her teeth that made Derek laugh even more as they posed like the most attractive couple you’ve ever seen.

         “They are so meant to be,” Penelope commented with the biggest smile, snapping her own pictures of them with her phone.

         “I know.” You folded your arms over your chest with a proud smile that disappeared as soon as a familiar perfume enveloped you from behind, making your shoulders stiffen.

         Although… that didn’t stop you from shifting your weight to one foot, a thing that made your curves stand out in a way you knew would only make Hotch react—more so when you were wearing that dress you’d picked with him in mind. His lips always ended up attached to your neck and shoulders. That part of you was his weakness and the day of the bridesmaids fitting, that was only one dress that made you think of his lips.

         He cleared his voice as you expected to start making small talk with Rossi about Jack. You’ve always loved the way his voice became soft when he talked to or about his son. He’d told you how he wanted to bring Jack to the wedding but that he’d chosen to go to a friend’s sleepover—which was understandable. At his age, you would’ve picked your friends over your parent’s friend’s wedding too.

         “Now pictures with your team.” Savannah smiled at Morgan. “You’re gonna want to see them when we’re old.”

         “She’s right,” you popped in. “Come on guys, let’s all take turns to kiss Morgan’s cheek.”

         “Mm-mm.” Derek furrowed his perfect brows, holding up a finger. “I’m a married man now.”

         You stood next to him and pecked his cheek anyway before resting your head over his shoulder and pouting your lips in a fake-sad face.

         “Spencer, you were so right,” you said loud enough for everybody to hear in between camera flashes.

         “I know. About what? Exactly?”

         “Today really should be a national day of mourning for all of us Derek lovers.”

         “Oh, come on now.” Morgan swung his arms over yours and Penelope’s shoulder. “Just because I officially belong to my woman doesn’t mean you can’t love me anymore.”

         “That’s true,” Savannah agreed.

         You blew her a kiss that was sure caught on camera, then the messy BAU photoshoot started. Everyone traded places every three pictures, and in the last set you ended up in the middle of Emily and Hotch. There he went again, clearing his voice just to say nothing. He hesitated to place a hand on you, so you did him the favor and broke his awkwardness by wrapping your arm around his waist—and Emily’s too, of course.

         “Is that a new perfume?” She sniffed next to your ear.

         “It is,” you acted surprised, turning your head to her but clutching your hand against Hotch’s waist to get his attention—as if it wasn’t already on you. You’d sprayed some of the perfume he kept at your place and some of yours too over it, creating a whole new scent.

         “I like it. It’s very… you.”

         “Thanks.”

         You could tell Aaron was trying hard to stay away from you as much as he could, leaning more to the opposite side. You did the same, pretending that Emily was the only person you were taking pictures with.

         Then after the rest of the guests got pictures with the newlyweds too, the party began. The team had their own designated table. You took a short bathroom break before settling and when you came back, the only empty seat was next to Hotch.

         There was no other choice, but you weren’t complaining.

         Your dress lifted to your mid-thighs as you sat down and it got even higher when you crossed your legs, exposing your bare skin a lot more. Aaron shifted on his seat, bringing his clasped hands up attempting to cover his mouth.

         He got so damn tense.

         “What’s the menu?” You asked everyone, subtly moving your legs under the table to touch Hotch’s.

         “You, apparently.” JJ raised her brows, gesturing behind you. “The photographer’s had his eyes on you all night.”

         “What?” You asked with a soft laugh, genuinely clueless.

         “Oh my god!” Penelope grabbed Jj’s arm in surprise. “I thought that was my imagination! He’s smoking hot.”

         You turned your head and caught the guy pointing the camera at your table. He really was attractive, but Jj might have been exaggerating because he gave you the kindest smile.

         “The alcohol is getting to your head already.” You rolled your eyes and scooted your chair closer to the table.

         “I don’t blame him, though.” Emily eyed you up and down while whistling. Even Spencer took a good look at you.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more pictures of you in there than Savannah.”

         “Well, he better take pictures of my good side if that’s the case,” you played along.

         “Oh sweets, you don’t have a bad sid–” Three constant clinks of metal hitting a glass got everyone’s attention. “Quiet now.” Penelope shushed herself, getting her phone out again to record Derek’s sister’s speech. “Sarah’s gonna talk.”

         Aaron subtly moved his leg under the table and kept his feet next to yours. Whenever you sat next to him at the round table—which wasn't often—his feet always found yours. It was his way of saying he wasn’t being cold towards you as he pretended to be. And you hoped that was a new way of showing he’d gotten a little jealous about the hot photographer.

         You wanted to tease him about it, run your fingers through the back of his head and assure him you had eyes for him only. Because you did, more so when he'd chosen one of his navy blue and perfect-tailored suits that made it hard keeping your hands to yourself.

         You took a quick glance at his usually furrowed brows before focusing on the fun stories family members had to tell. You had a permanent smile on your face during dinner as they talked about Savannah's childhood and teenage years. There was a lot you didn't know about her despite her becoming one of your closest friends.

         Unlike Derek. You'd heard at least ten different versions of the same stories and you never got tired of it. And on a more serious note, his mom brought up his dad with pictures of him projected on a screen, reminding Derek how proud he truly must be for his son starting his own family.

         Morgan being emotional has always got to you. You knew how much he wished his son could’ve had the chance to meet his grandfather, but the sad moments didn’t last long. The dessert brought the sweetness and soon, it was time to get to the dance floor.

         You weren’t the greatest dancer, but you knew how to move so you were designated to keep the guests motivated to dance with the other. You took the chance to at least dance one song with everyone—including Hotch. You tried to keep things low-key as always, so you decided to walk up to him, choosing to dance with Rossi first.

         “Wanna dance?” You stretched out your hand to him.

         “Ehh...” David hesitated. “Maybe later. Take Aaron first.”

         “Don’t be lazy, Rossi. Come on.” You played it cool, ignoring Aaron completely.

         “I’ll sacrifice myself for you.” Hotch tapped David’s shoulder as he took the last sip of his drink and rose from his chair.

         “Sacrifice yourse-?” You looked at Hotch with a frown then waved your hand dismissively mid-sentence, casually holding him by his arm and said to Rossi, “You can’t escape me, Dave.”

         “If you find me,” he barked back and worked his way to the bar with his empty glass in his hand.

         You shared a casual laugh with Aaron as your feet took you to the dance floor.

         “Don’t make it awkward.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. Nothing special, just like you’d done with Spencer a few songs earlier. The only difference was that Spencer didn’t make you feel like the prettiest girl in the room.

         “I’m not,” he chuckled next to your ear and kept his hand respectfully over your upper back while the other stayed just a little lower as if you were made out of glass.  

         There’d been two slow songs in a row and the DJ didn’t seem to have the intention to change the mood just yet. They even lowered the lights, creating a romantic ambiance. Or maybe that was just your imagination and the fact that you were actually in his arms with everyone around like you’ve always wanted.

         “We’ve never danced before,” you murmured close to his ear trying to keep an unamused face. You prayed your voice got lost with the music so the people dancing around you couldn’t hear how you were trying to flirt with him.

         “We haven’t.” He softened his voice too. “But we’ve done way more than that.”

         There was a twitch of a smile threatening to take over your lips, but you didn’t let it slip. Instead, you took a deep breath and slowly let it out as you said, “We have.”

         It was strange. You were used to having his hands on you behind closed doors;  inside a room where the only noise was his heartbeat against your ear. But like you said, you weren’t about to make it awkward. You cherished the moment because this was probably the closest you’ll ever get to be with him in front of everyone without them saying a thing. So you stayed there, hands clasped behind his neck as if it meant nothing – as if they weren’t shaking; as if you weren’t dying to just grab his face, kiss him in the middle of the dance, and whisper I love you for the first time one breath away from his soft lips.

         “You’re tense,” he murmured.

         “So are you.” You smiled, finding Jj’s eyes over Aaron’s shoulder along the way.

         You pretended the smile was because of her and made an uncomfortable face, gesturing at Hotch with wide eyes. She’d never said a thing to you, but you were afraid she might be the only one who could suspect something about you and Hotch.

         You were casually texting Hotch who was only a few feet away from you in his office about the plans you two had for the night, and you didn’t notice Jj had walked up to you from behind. She scared the shit out of you and you suspiciously locked your phone.

         " Hiding something ?" She raised her brows.

         " Uh… it's a surprise ," you lied. Which she believed—or you hoped she did—since her birthday was coming soon.

         You told Hotch about it and he reminded you to be more careful when you made it to his place later that night. And though you liked how things were with him, you couldn’t deny that type of coldness hurt a little too.

         “Is that really my perfume?” He kept his voice quiet.

         “I don’t know. Is it?”

         He subtly breathed you in and you almost melted in his arms. “It’s sweeter on you.”

         You caught the photographer shooting pictures of you and Aaron and you waited until he moved around to tell Hotch, “I– I booked us a room. I thought since you gave us off tomorrow we could enjoy this place a little more.”

         “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

         “811,” you said before the song ended.

         Breaking that dance left you with an empty feeling. That’d never happened to you before – missing him while he was in the same room as you – but for whatever reason, that dance meant a lot to you.

         You tried to fill in that hole by dancing with the girls though it didn’t work much. You took a break from dancing and made your way to a quiet lounge room in the open. The sky was clear and the soft breeze was the only one who kept you company as you finished your third glass of wine.

         “Do you mind some company?” An unfamiliar voice said from behind.

         “Jesus christ!” You brought your hand to your chest startled.

         Maybe it was enough wine for the night.

         You turned around and caught a charming smile and a camera hanging from his neck.

         “Sorry,” the photographer laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

         “No, you’re fine,” You laughed too.

         “I’m Louis.”

         You shook his hand and introduced yourself too. It may have been the alcohol but the guy was really funny and got to make you laugh more than once. You would’ve kept having a good time if he hadn’t tried to be smart.

         “So, would you like to grab a drink with me after the wedding?”

         Of course, he was trying to get inside your panties. What a turn-off.

         “Sorry, but I’m taken,” you said without hesitation.

         You really weren’t, though.

         “Oh,” he looked around. “Well, is he here?”

         Speak of the devil.

         A silhouette at the corner of your eyes stole your attention.

         There was Aaron—and Morgan—walking to the lounge room too with drinks in their hands. You wondered who’s idea was it to come just when you were being hit on by some guy.

         Derek teased you with his brows while there was nothing humorous on Aaron’s face. You focused on Louis again, but the smile on your face was because of Hotch. Jealous Hotch.  

         “No,” you finally responded, sighing deep. “But I don’t see how that matters. I’m still taken.”

         “You’re right, you’re right.”

         Nothing about Louis was interesting after you studied his behaviour and read his intentions. Still, you let him flirt with you—and definitely pretended to flirt back hoping Aaron would notice—until he excused himself to go back to his job.

         You wiggled your fingers as a goodbye and slowly made your way to Morgan and Hotch, making your heels clack more than you had to.

         “Someone took a special interest in you,” was the first thing Morgan said.

         You stood in front of them, clasping your hands behind your back, and shrugged carelessly. “You think?”

         "Princess, don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

         “What do you mean?”

         “Batting those eyelashes, laughing too much, touching his shoulder–”

         “You think that was flirting?” you cut him off.

         “It was to me.” Morgan looked at Hotch.

         “Hotch?” You—subtly—taunted. “You think that was flirting?”  

         It wasn’t the first time someone has hit on you right in front of him, but police officers weren’t as much of a threat to him as a photographer was, apparently.

         “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt—” he confidently responded “—so I wouldn’t know.”

         “I’ve seen her. She does this thing with her eyes,” Morgan kept going. “I’m telling you, Hotch, she was flirting.”

         “That was bad flirting.” You rolled your eyes. “Which somehow still works with guys like him.”

         “ Bad flirting? Well now I want to see your good flirting,” Derek continued, but his duties as a groom were needed and his name being called from the microphone saved you from that.

         It was just you and Hotch now.

         “Aren’t you afraid people are gonna see us, alone?” You stayed put on your feet, holding back the urge to get closer to him.

         “Not really, we’re just talking.” He raised his brows as he spoke.

         “We are.” Your eyes went to his lips and lingered there as you licked your own. “Party should be over soon, so… I’ll go back inside now. Are you coming?”

         “In a little bit.” He gestured at his drink.

         “Okay.” You took a step back. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

         “811,” he responded, sliding one hand inside his pocket and saluting you with his glass with the other.

         You subtly tugged your bottom lip in between your teeth and eyed him up and down. You knew exactly what you were doing, indeed. “811.”

         “Is this what your good flirting looks like?” He asked in a teasing tone as you were about to turn around.

         “I don’t know.” You matched his voice, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not very good at it.”

         He gave you a look that pierced through you, but you didn’t expose yourself and left him all alone.

         You impatiently counted heads once the guests started to leave and shared a few secret glances with Aaron the rest of the night, which built in the anticipation. But sooner than later, the party was finally over.  

         “Who’s leaving with us?” Emily massaged her temple.

         You didn’t pay attention to who answered as you were searching for Hotch. At this point, you weren’t even trying to be subtle about missing him, but he’d vanished.

         Or so you thought.

         You made it to your room almost with your heart broken, but when you checked your phone, his name lit up on the screen.

         I’m gonna walk around for a while.

         He was being careful—as always.

         The alcohol had worn off already, and you needed some more. You ordered a bottle of wine to the room to make the wait more bearable and paced back and forth around the room waiting for it until the expected knock on your door blared inside the bedroom.

         You smoothed down your dress and slowly worked your way to the door, dragging it open.

         Not room service.

         Aaron's broad shadow was standing there, both hands in his pocket.

         “Didn’t front desk give you a key?” You let him in.

         He shut the door behind him and kept on walking, forcing you to take a few steps back as he said, “they did.”

         “Then why did you knock?” You stopped in the middle of the room.

         “To make it more interesting.”

         “You’re funny,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck the way you'd meant to do while you danced, staring up at him. “Did anyone see you?”

         “No.” He delicately brushed his fingers across your cheek and placed a tender kiss on the other. “Did you have fun?”

         “Yeah.” You grabbed his tie to bring him closer and closed your eyes. “You?”

         “This dress—” he murmured in your ear “—had me distracted the entire evening.”

         “I knew you’d like me in it.”

         He smirked as his lips traveled from your jaw to the corner of your mouth. Then he finally kissed you.

         It was tender—too tender.

         “It was made for you.” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip while murmuring against them.

         “It was made for you to take it off,” you whispered and brought your hands to the back of his head, pressing your lips with his into the wet, desperate kiss you’ve been wanting all night.

         His arms enveloped you entirely and his tongue didn’t hesitate to sweep yours. You’ve longed to have his rough touch melting into your skin for what seemed ages. It was always like that. After spending an entire day treating each other like any other mortal—when it was just the two of you—you both acted like two different people that had too many clothes. But it was more than that too.

         To you, at least. And you liked to think that it was mutual.

         “It’s always hard to keep my eyes and hands off you,” he said out of breath, letting the kiss rest. “But today—” he pecked your lips “—you almost made me want to risk it all.”

         You returned the gentle kiss. “Why didn’t you?”

         That was a heartfelt question that he’d rather let get lost in the desire.

         His lips collided with yours again as his hands confidently sneaked under your dress, groping you with hunger. “God, I knew you were wearing the tiniest panties under it.”

         “I chose these for you too.” You whimpered when he lifted his mouth to your neck and nibbled your skin.

         “Not wedding appropriate at all,” he murmured in a playful tone while kissing your shoulder. He teased the strap of your dress with the tip of his tongue, lifting it off your skin and pulling it down your arm with his teeth. “Do you have to return it?”

         “No,” you gasped. “It’s mine.”

         “Good, because I’m gonna fuck you in it.” He scooped you by your thighs and plopped you on the bed, settling in between your legs. He trailed kisses from your mouth down your jaw and neck, getting rid of his jacket and tie in the process. “You should wear my perfume more often,” he panted onto the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin.

         “Does it turn you on?” Your hands flew to tug on his hair. “Smelling yourself on me?”

         With each of his kisses, your desire for him grew. Your heartbeat dropped to your pussy within seconds and it was nothing but ache and warm arousal leaking off you.

         “Everything about you makes me hard.” He started to grind his hips while his lips went back to capture yours. “The things you do to me, can you feel it?”

         You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. His erection rubbed against you, nestling almost too perfectly in between your still clothed folds.

         “Yeah.” You bucked your hips to meet his.

         “Yeah?” He pulled back, breaking the desperate kiss.

         This time you were only able to nod and lift your hips off the bed to help him get rid of your panties. He dragged them down your thighs teasingly slow and threw them in the air.

         The hungry look in his eyes while he lowered himself and lifted your dress up to your waist sent sparkles all over you. Your bare flesh was exposed to him now and though it was fascinating how he seemed to be at your will when you were that weak in front of him, you couldn’t deny how intimidating it was.

         “I need you so bad.” You bent your legs up to your chest, tempting him with how wet you were.

         He petted your sensitive clit with his thumb twice with a cocky smile before making himself comfortable by rolling up his sleeves and laying on his stomach so his arms would wrap around your thighs. His face now was one kiss away from your slick folds.

         That embarrassed you in the beginning—how fucking wet he made you and how fast—but that only meant how much you wanted him, and you knew he loved the effect he had on you.

         “How much do you want to come?” He kissed your inner thighs, digging his fingers on them too.

         “Surprise me.” You relaxed your arms above your head, ready to receive whatever he wanted.

         He ghosted a smile over you before circling the tip of his nose on your clit. You were so sensitive there already your body jerked a little at that first contact. His nose then was replaced with his chin, tracing rougher circles, and when he laid a light-feather kiss right there , you decided to close your eyes and enjoy the endless minutes of pleasure Aaron was about to give you.

         There was no doubt he truly enjoyed being nose deep in between your legs, so you never felt bad when it was just him who used his mouth like that during sex.

         “ That feels so good, ” you praised him, bringing your hand to his hair and running your fingers through it.

         He hummed in response, sucking your clit into his mouth with light pressure and smoothly adding two fingers inside of you.

         You rolled your hips against his face and in no time stars took over your eyes.

         “Oh my g– mmm.” You pressed your lips together to shut yourself up because, shit, you were being embarrassingly loud and you didn’t want to let everyone know how good you were being fucked by Aaron’s mouth.

         “I’ve been waiting all day to hear you moan.” He kept going with his skilled motions . “Let me hear you.”

         His pleas were powerful and you couldn’t avoid letting yourself go. You moaned—loud—and smiled through it all because he deserved to know how good he made you feel; how good he was to you; how generous.

         After that one, he went in—all in.

         God, Aaron.

         Fuck.

         Just like that.

         Please don’t stop.

         Your mouth went dry from how much you praised him and gasped in pleasure. His mouth was exquisite. Every flick of his tongue and each sloppy sound he made brought you closer and closer to the—

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         —Clouds.

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         You were snapped out of what was supposed to be your fourth orgasm, propping yourself on your elbows.

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         “Fuck,” you threw yourself back down in annoyance. “I ordered that like half an hour ago.”

         “That what?” Aaron said and went back to eat you out.

         “ Mmh, wine.”

         “More wine?” He reached for the closest piece of clothing and wiped his mouth, chin and fingers with them.

         “What are you doing?”

         “I’ll be right back.”

         He took a moment to adjust his erection inside his pants and worked his way to receive the wine.

         “Thanks.”  

         The way he just casually said that got a laugh from you.

         “What?” He placed the wine and two glasses over the night stand.

         “Do you think he could tell what you were doing just now?” you laughed again, propping your knee up and playing with the hem of your dress.

         “I hope he did.” He crawled in bed next to you and smiled into a kiss, sneaking his hand in between your legs.

         He started to massage your clit right away. It felt good, but you needed him. “Hotch, just fuck me already.”

         “Give me one more.” He grunted mid-sentence. “One more and then I’m all yours.”

         How could you ever say no to that?

         He rubbed your clit like he was against the clock, so fast and with the perfect amount of pressure.

         There was that pleasure building once again.

         Your sweet moans bounced within the room as the tingling sensations spread through you.

         "Fuck, Hotch I—" you fisted the bed covers under you and turned your head to him searching for his eyes.

         "I know, honey , I know." He had his eyes shut and brushed his nose across your cheek, subtly hissing under his breath as if he was in pain.

         That word only slipped when he was pleasing you. You reached for his hand while you came, clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

         You swept your tongue across his top lip to thank him with a desperate kiss. You hadn’t noticed how he had his eyes shut and his brows furrowed. You kept your eyes open to admire how much he was enjoying it and let your voice be free.

         “There we go,” he whispered. “Good. So, so good.”

         “It feels so good,” you whimpered.

         “I know it does.” He kept lightly tapping your sensitive clit making your body jerk a few times. “Feels so good for me too.”

         “Fuck. Please?” You begged.

         He brought his milked fingers up to your mouth and slid them in and out so you’d clean them up, and pecked your cheek as if saying yes, now.

         You clasped your mouths together and stood on your knees to help him get rid of his clothes between more desperate kisses. Your fingers shook as you undid his belt, and when all of his clothes ended up scattered over the floor, you lay on your back.

         He adjusted himself in between your legs and slapped the head of his cock over your clit a few times while pinching your nipples, turning them into tight tempting buds.

         “Fill me in, please,” you bit your lip, roaming your hands up and down over his forearms and biceps.

         He reached for his pants and got a condom from his pocket. Your first time with him was the only time you took him raw, and you had to admit you wanted his bare skin rubbing inside of you again.

         You stayed quiet while he tore the foil open and rolled it down his length, then without much warning, Hotch grabbed you by your hips and harshly flipped you around, angling your ass up in full display for him. You gasped between a small startled laugh, your cheek pressed onto the pillow.

         It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to be this harsh with you, but when he did you knew you were about to be sent out of the orbit.

         “Sorry about that,” he said in a cocky, deep voice that only got a moan from you in a positive response.

         One hand circled your ass while the other guided his cock at your entrance, slipping it in just a bit. You wiggled your ass and continued what he started, letting him inside you inch by slow inch.

         He groaned like a god and slid your dress up to your ribs, almost, but you didn’t want it off just yet. Like he said, you were waiting for him to fuck you in it. He withdrew his hips a bit to plunge hard into you again, making your ass bounce violently.

         Then began to pound into you—hard.

         You reached for his forearm and held onto it, glancing at him over your shoulder but your own smile distracted you mid way through.

         There was a mirror perfectly placed by the bed, giving you the breathtaking view of Aaron slamming his body into yours from behind. It was mesmerizing—the way he threw his head back and licked his lips while gripping your hips until his fingertips disappeared into your skin.

         You made eye contact with yourself, bringing your hand up to your mouth and caught your own moans against your palm, dissolving in the moment. The curves of his cock fit you everywhere and reached your spot with each of his loud thrusts.

         “ Oh shit, oh fuck. ” You muffled your moans into a pillow, squeezing your eyes shut.

         That’s never been one of your preferred positions. He went too deep and it’d hurt at times, but it hurt so damn good you arched your back even more and let yourself drown in the way he dug himself in you.

         “ So fucking good. ” You smiled, “ fuck, fuck ,fuck .”

         By the time your skin was glowing red by how hard his skin slammed against yours, you stood up on your knees and pressed your back onto his chest, turning your head asking for a kiss. He gave you his tongue while his hands reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it up and finally peeling it off your skin in the middle of softer thrusts.

         He pulled you close and kept plunging into you until his breathings grew loud, his muscles tensed and his cock twitched inside of you, groaning deep at the back of your head. He wrapped his arms around you like his life depended on it—with a kind of passion that could’ve easily been mistaken with love.

         You turned your head searching for his lips and return that same passion, but he circled his nose with yours and ghosted your lips with his breath.

         A tender frown took over his face while his eyes scanned your face from up close.  There was a glimpse of vulnerability in him right then. You couldn’t quite read what it meant, but it weakened you on the inside.

         “God, look at you.” He smiled, and finished with one last soft kiss.

         You both dropped like dead weight on the bed facing each other, legs and arms interlaced together.

         It was still there—that look. You could almost see right through him.

         He took a moment to toss the condom into the trash then joined you in bed again, bringing you close into a hug.

         “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you want to be home when Jack gets back.”

         “I’d love to stay.” He kissed you. “But yeah, tomorrow we have early soccer practice.”

         You returned the kiss while nodding and brought your hand up to stroke his cheek. It was soft and cold with sweat which you kindly brushed away with your thumb.

         If someone asked you two years ago if you ever imagined yourself like this—with an after-sex glow—because of Aaron Hotchner, you would’ve bursted out laughing. You still couldn’t understand how you ended up finding the love you always wanted in someone you’d known for half a decade.

         Sometimes, all those years where nothing more than a polite handshake and respectful hugs happened felt like a waste of time. Other times, you convinced yourself it was meant to happen that way.

         You stared at each other in silence and just the sound of the city in the background.

         “Did you get jealous tonight?” You spoke after a moment, tracing random patterns over his chest.

         His brows raised, thinking about it. “I might’ve.”

         “I kinda’ liked it.”

         “I bet you did.” He pecked your lips almost to erase your mocking smile.

         “It suits you. The jealousy.”

         “Well, it’s not a very nice feeling.”

         “But it’s hot.”

         “Oh?” He licked his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

         “I didn’t say that.”

         “I think you did.” He kissed your ear.

         You let him pepper you with kisses. Kisses that felt like home. Kisses that made you want to break the stupid wall you both had built and just confess how much you loved him; how you wanted those kisses all over your skin for the rest of your life.

         “Hotch?” Your voice came out small as if anyone else could hear you.

         “Mmh?” He groaned into another kiss.

         “I– I think I–” I think I love you. “I think I’m gonna go home too.”

         “You sure?” He pulled back and frowned with curiosity.

         “Yeah.”

         “Okay, I’ll call us a cab.”

         “Okay. I’m gonna shower first.”

         “Care if I join you?”

         “Not at all.”

         You ended up doing way more than just showering together, though.

         There was a large window in front of a spacious jacuzzi that let in the shimmering city lights. You didn’t even know you’d booked such a fancy hotel room. It was the perfect place to drink that expensive bottle of wine.

         You both relaxed in the tub, drinking off the bottle between slightly drunk laughs.

         Time with Hotch went by too fast, and if you hadn’t spilled the last drops of the wine in the bath you would've stayed there until the morning.

         “Now you can call your taxi friend.” You wiped a happy tear from the corner of your eye, wrapping yourself in a towel.

         You walked back to the room and searched for your dress. It’d landed over his jacket as if they were two matching pieces made by the same tailor.

         You handed him his clothes and dressed together, stealing glances. You really wanted to stay the night with him. You almost provoked him with the dress so you both ended up in bed again, but you kept your cool and made it out of the room.

         You were waiting for the elevator when someone came out of the room right next to it.

         Oh no.

         “What’s going on here?” Morgan’s eyes widened as he made a little gesture between you and Hotch with his pointer finger.

         “I– uh…” You looked up at Aaron. He was just as flustered as you, and the alcohol in your blood didn’t help much. “We uh–”

         It took Derek three seconds to put two and two together.

         “Please don’t tell me it was you who had that moaning symphony going on.”

         “W–what?” Your face was burning right now.

         “Hotch? Really?” Morgan seemed more hurt than anything else. He was your best friend after all.

         “I’ll explain it to you when you get back from your honeymoon.” You reached for Aaron’s hand and walked away as fast as you could without looking back while saying loudly, “Have fun in Cancún!”

         You hurried through the hotel hallways, paid the room and hopped in the back of the taxi without saying a word to each other. If you hadn’t booked a room at the same hotel, Morgan would’ve never found out and your most precious relationship would’ve still been a secret.

         The ride was quiet, but Aaron never let go of your hand. At least, he wasn’t mad about it. Or if he was, he didn’t want you to know. You felt guilty about it, but it felt so good too. You stayed looking out the window to avoid looking at him.

         Fifteen minutes later, he broke the silence.

         “Hey.” You turned your head to him and stared for the longest second before he spoke again, “I love you. Secret’s out. And I don’t want to hide us anymore. There’s no reason to.”

         Your heart started to race so fast inside your chest you couldn’t form any coherent words.

         “We’re here.” The driver glanced at you both through the rearview mirror.

         You were still trying to process what the love of your life had just said.

         “Hey, love birds, I ain’t got all night. It’s thirty bucks and counting,” the man spoke again.

         “Do you want to come inside? So that I can show you how much I love you too?” Was all you could say as you reached inside your purse to shut the driver up.

         But he didn’t. “Tik tok, tik tok, my friends.”

         “I–” Aaron sucked in a short breath, reaching for his wallet faster than you and handing the man his money. “I think that’s a good idea.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: friday! coworkers last day!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You pass through the gate, cautious to close it without a noise. You trail past the hedges and around the side of the house. You enter through the back, as you did in those early days, only weeks ago, though it seems years.

You move slowly, leaving your shoes out of the way, disregarding the closet as you cling to the strap of your bag and venture warily onward. You pause before the kitchen door and peek around, finding it empty. You tiptoe on and climb the stairs one at a time, flinching at ever creak.

You reach the top and keep your eyes down. You go to the library and slip inside, like a ghost floating through your own existence. You set the bag by your feet and pull out the laptop to begin your day.

You don't think, not past the list of tasks. You boot the computer and wait for the screen to light up. You type in the pass code and open Excel. You lean your head in your hand, eyes glazing over as the glare sears your vision, stamping with endless columns and tiny numbers.

You feel yourself slumping, the strength whittling away by the second. Your eyes droop even as your ears prick at each noise. You shake your head, trying to ward off the needling fatigue. You yawn and sit up, rubbing your eyelids as you square your shoulders.

You let your head hang back and drop your arms into your lap. Your stomach wriggles as Mr. Laufeyson's looming presence creeps into your mind. He's here somewhere and surely, he already knows you are too. He's just waiting to pounce. 

Your fears furl into faded dreams. A fractured series of scenes, twisted reflections of reality rippling into each other until you dizzy. You can hear your own snores yet don't quite realise you're asleep.

You wake with a start as you feel yourself slipping. You barely catch yourself before you flop off the chair. You spasm and grip the arm rest as a shadow lurks behind your laptop screen. You gape up at Mr. Laufeyson as he watches you with arms folded.

"Hm," he tilts his head, "that shirt is... not very professional."

"Sir," you keep your face down as your cheek thrums, swollen and bruised, "I'm sorry, I... I didn't sleep very well."

"Oh yes, of course, I hadn't even mentioned you sleeping on the job," he growls and uncrosses his arms, bringing his hands down to the desk. He leans in so his head is just above the laptop. "Look at me."

"Mr. Laufeyson, I'm just sorting out the expenses--"

"Look at me," he commands more firmly.

You wince and rub your neck. An ache radiates in your shoulder, another remnant of your father's wrath. You slowly raise your chin as your lip twitches just slightly. His eyes narrow and his jaw ticks.

He's silent as he stares at you. Angry, you can tell. You pull your hands back and fold them against your chest.

"Please, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It won't happen again--"

"What happened to your clothes?" He slithers darkly.

"Nothing, I... I wasn't paying attention this morning--"

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," you squeak unconvincingly.

His nostrils flare and he slaps his palm on the desk. You sit back, pressing yourself to the chair as you whimper.

"I underestimated that... scum," he spits out.

"I don't know--"

"Go on and lie again. What is it this time? You took a tumble?" He reaches out and you shy away, expecting him to put another swell in your cheek. Instead, he touches the thrumming skin, stroking it, "I didn't think..." he takes a breath and withdraws his hand, standing stiffly, "I believed him a coward, but not that sort."

"It's not--"

"Hush. You make your excuse for him, I will not swallow them," he flicks his fingers at you dismissively.

He rolls his shoulders and pivots on his heel. He paces across the patterned rug and stops, just before the sofa. He turns back, making another line across the space. He brings his finger up to tap his chin.

"Yes, very well, I see I do have somewhere to be," he states as he drops his hand, his lips curving at the corners. 

"Mr. Laufeyson," you stand.

"Never you mind," he tuts, "you have your work, I have mine." He cracks his knuckles.

"Are you--"

"Ah ah," he points at you tersely, "since when is my itinerary your concern? Mind the house, that is your job." He huffs and checks his watch as a pinch lines his forehead, "you may receive the expected parcel and leave it on my desk for now..." he lowers his hand and grumbles, "and you will stay here."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

Before you can protest further, he's at the door. You're frozen in disbelief. Surely he can't mean what you think.

It doesn't matter to him, does it? You are his house manager, just another below him he can torment, he wouldn't do anything like that. Certainly, he won't harm your father, right?

You rush after him as your doubts bubble over. As he enters the hallway, you grab his elbow, not thinking, not hesitating for once in your life. "Please, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever you're thinking of--"

He faces you and rips his arm free, "don't."

"Please, it's-- I--" you sputter helplessly and wring your hands, "I deserved it."

He squares his chin and blinks. "Deserve... so it was him?"

"Mr. Laufeyson, it isn't... isn't your problem. He's my dad, I'll deal with him."

"As you have so far?" He scoffs, "pet, I mean to defend you. To do you a favour. Another. And now you overstep and try to command me?"

"No, no, I'm not... not commanding. I'm begging," you clutch your hands tighter, putting them up to plead, "don't make it worse."

He dips his head and closes his eyes. He pinches his nose and gives a nod, rubbing his lips together. He raises his head and opens his eyes again. He shrugs and lets a grin break through.

"It isn't your choice," he grabs your wrists, locking them together in his grasp as he drags you forward.

Your socks slip on the floorboards as he tugs you down the hallway. You struggle, writhing and sliding against his force. The same panic that struck you last night swirls again, thumping in your chest. He turns and swings you through the door of his bedroom. You stagger as he lets you go and the door swiftly snaps shut behind you.

You turn to face it and throw yourself against it, twisting the handle as you try to pull it open. He holds it shut from the other side and you hear the lock grind into place. You hit the door with your fists and cry out.

"Mr. Laufeyson!"

"I will return shortly, pet, never you worry," he assures, "don't miss me too much."

You slap the wood again and press your ear to it. You listen as he struts away, whistling until it fades to silence. You hear the front door below, shortly followed by the car engine rolling to life. You rush over to the window and look at as he steers up to the gate.

You can hear his knuckles cracking and see that sinister smirk. His intentions cannot be good.

✨

Your exhaustion slakes away to panic. You pace the room, bounce up and down on your feet, fidget incessantly, murmuring senselessly. You just can't be still. What is Mr. Laufeyson doing?

Your fears twist your imagination to terror. Is he going to hurt your father? He should just leave him alone. He's the one who got him so worked up. That last thought makes you stop short.

It's his fault. It's all his fault. He heard everything on the phone, he knew your dad has anger issues, he walked into your home and he ruined it all. 

Your lashes flutter as you sway. You feel like you've been struck all over again. Mr. Laufeyson has done this all to you! He gave you this job, he took you away from your dad, he invaded your home, he made you wear those clothes. 

And now, you're mad. You feel that hot streak inside of you unlike anything before. Vivid and venomous. You run to the door, throwing yourself against it as you beat with your fists. 

He's locked you up here so you can't stop him from doing anymore. You're sleeping in a hotel because of him. You're not eating or sleeping, you can feel yourself going insane. Because of him.

You're dizzy and breathless. You lean on the door and try to calm yourself. Your head hurts.

You slide down and turn to put your back against the door. You hang your head, bending your legs to rest your arms over them. You heave and close your eyes.

You're just as helpless as you've ever been.

✨

The footsteps bring you out of your daze. You raise your head, wobbly on your neck, and blink several times before you get your bearings. You listen to Mr. Laufeyson's entry, his slow advance below, and his steady ascension up the staircase.

Your heart hitches but you don't move. Even if you had the strength, you refuse. You will not budge.

He comes down the staircase, a hum in the air. You tense and grit your teeth, eyes hot again with tears. Not sad but angry.

"Ah, pet, you will be happy to hear that I don't believe your father will have another cruel world reserved for you," he sings the handle shifts slightly above your head and the lock clicks. "How shall we celebrate your emancipati--"

The door jolts and you push back against it. You plant your feet and grunt as you force it shut. He lets out a noise and shoves back. You do it again.

"Pet," he evens his tone, "what are you up to?"

"Leave me alone!" You snarl, surprised by your own venom.

"Pet, now, let me in--"

"I said go away!"

He scoffs and stops pushing. He lets out his breath loudly.

"This isn't mature behaviour."

"I don't care, I don't want to see you."

He's quiet again. You hear his soles scuff and he gently taps on the door.

"Pet, please, we should talk. I think it's imperative that we do--"

"No, I don't want to talk. I don't want to see you. I want you to leave me alone!"

"You are being a child--"

"You ruined everything," you bark, "you ruined my life! You're a bad man and I hate you!"

You go weak as the last words escape you without a thought. You collapse onto your bottom and catch your head in your hands. You devolve into thick, choking sobs. Here you are, bawling like the child he calls you. He must be amused.

"Are you tendering your resignation?" He asks crisply, "because I believe you haven't anywhere else to go, my dear."

"I know! Because of you. I have nowhere, because you!" You shoot back through heaving breaths.

"Or... you could have somewhere, because of me," he says measuredly. "Pet, all you have to do is open the door and talk to me."

You fall onto your side and curl up. You cover your head, whimpering as tears trickle down. You sniffle and hide under your arm. Just like you did when dad wouldn't stop yelling. 

The floorboards shift and he sighs again, "I can wait." He taps the door lightly once more and his footfalls retreat.

You tremble in a heap, nearly delirious with emotion. Through the chaos, you can see the truth. You don't have anywhere or anything without him.

✨

The world shifts under you, your body chafing across the floor as the door moves you. Not harshly but inch by inch. Mr. Laufeyson bends over you as you open your eyes, groggy and glazed over. His silhouette is fuzzy and distant as he slides his arms under you.

He lifts you and carries you to the bed. You groan as he lays you down, piling pillows behind you to prop you up. He sits with his legs over the side and pushes his head back. You come to, little by little, pushing through the fog.

You hug yourself and wiggle in place. He reaches to still you, his hand on your thigh. You wince and stare at his fingers. He draws his knee up and shifts to face you. He removes his touch as his eyes cling thoughtfully to the wall behind you.

"I see you've calmed down," he begins and lets his gaze fall on you, "so we will talk. I'm sure you're aware that matters are urgent."

"No..." you utter, "I'll... go."

You try to sit up and he nudges you back. You hit the pillows and do not try again. You don't have anything left in you.

"Where?" He challenges.

"I have a hotel room--"

"No," he shakes his head, "that won't do. What I'm offering, well, you can hardly deny it."

You drop your head and shrug.

"How many more nights can you afford? And without a job? I'm offering you both. Work, accommodation. I dare to say, I would offer you a home."

"No, you're my boss," you insist.

"Yes, I do expect you to shoulder some tasks," he assures, "but perhaps... we might remold this arrangement."

Your eyes stick blankly to your knees. You don't know what he wants or what he means. Just more. It's always more. Hasn't he taken enough?

"What more can you want from me?" You whisper.

He's quiet again. His fingers twiddle and he lifts his hand, touching your arm and slowly grasping it. He unwraps it from your torso and trails down to your hand, squeezing it.

"I made myself clear before," he pulls your hand closer, cradling it as he pets your knuckles, "but perhaps you still misunderstood me." He clasps your hand between both of his, "I want you. Entirely."

Your eyes flick up to meet his. Your mouth falls open as your heart tempos wildly. You still don't think you understand. Your search his face for the answer.

"I will grant you any wish. Clothes, jewellery, whatever you like. If you like to read, I will buy you books, if you like to draw, I will buy you paint. If you just want shiny things, I can get those too. All I ask is simple. For you. For your entire being. That you obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for. Things you never even dreamed of," he slips a hand away and lifts yours. He leans in and softly kisses your knuckles, "you say I am bad, but I needn't be.”

[chrollohearttags]

With AOTs last episode… Imagine if rumors spread that musician!Eren and Mikasa had something going on in the past. Then reader gets wind of it and they breakup!! I couldn’t imagine what was going through Eren’s head when the media hears about this shit!!!!!

ayooo! I swear, y’all are geniuses fr. I was thinking of something like this. And here I was needing a little drama (I’ll definitely have to do this as a full fic in the future but I gotta talk about thisss sksksjs!!)

content + themes: infidelity(?), angsty vibes, lots of drama, mentions of sex, alcohol mentions

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Let’s get into this tea, honey. Cause it’s HOT! So boom, (influencer name) this girl right here..is engaged to this man, EJ The Don. This lady here is Mikasa Ackerman, or formerly known as MikaASH. Who is also the manager for both of them. Welllll, girl. Allegedly, she was over here hunching on Mr. EJ behind Miss (y/n)’s back! Mind you, miss girl got a whole HUSBAND herself—“

“Y’all already know what we’re gonna talk about so just buckle in. I could not believe this when I heard it. So word is going around that EJ the Don, Mr. Underground God, the Living Dead Boy..whatever the fuck his name is has been cheating on his girl. And if you don’t know who she is, this is (y/n) (l/n), leader of the Pole Assassins. Gorgeous, gorgeous woman..but this asshole decided to not only fuck around on her but with their manager nonetheless!—“

it was inescapable..every other scroll through TikTok’s feed was some person with a pair of earbuds, speaking over the static wafting through the microphone as they stood before and floated in front of a green screen..pictures and articles of the story plastered behind them. What was the latest topic of discussion and juiciest gossip for the masses; a sure fire way to get themselves circulating in the algorithm was your sad reality. A reality that you wish was all made up.

two people you loved and cared for deeply betraying you in an indescribable way. The woman who’d all but given you your start in this industry. Acting as that of a sister rather than a manager as she helped you navigate fame. And the man..you loved more than life itself. Who showed you what it meant to be happy for the first time in your life. Sleeping together behind your back…you had never felt pain quite like this. There were physical pangs in your chest, your stomach in knots and all of the air feeling as if they had dissipated from your lungs. At that moment, you wanted to disappear into nothing..fade away and never be seen again. But life went on!..you had obligations, business affairs, everything you’d work so hard to achieve. Meanwhile, your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Missed calls and texts from them both, constantly sounding off back to back because lord knows if you answered, you’d only end up saying or doing something you’d regret. Much like you had hours ago when you stormed out of you and Eren’s home, bags packed with him running after you..tears in his eyes and the promise that nothing had ever happened. But there was proof. Pictures of them all over each other; Mikasa sporting her leather clad, skimpy attire she would wear on stage and him happily grabbing her hips as she bent over. It made you sick to your stomach. Physically ill even..it was too much for you to bare. Apologies, no matter how frequently and loud they were, would never absolve that hurt. The thought of them touching, kissing and doing god knows what behind your back..in your bed!

“Please (y/n)! I know what this seems like but that was from years ago. We were drunk, probably even high. Somebody took those of us, thinking they had something they could sell off to TMZ but you’ve gotta believe me when I tell you..nothing ever happened. I would never come between what you and Eren have—“

“Girl, please. Spare me the tears. If you wanna fuck him, he’s all yours. I’ll be damned if I ever compete for my spot. You got it.”

as much as you were trying to wear the brave face, you were torn apart and seeing her in full blown hysterics, trying to plead their case. But you were having none of it. As for Eren, he was in no better shape. He was devastated..heartbroken. More so than anyone could imagine. He wasn’t even going to bother heading to social media to clear his name as other accused cheaters had done so in the past. Rather, he downed the various bottles of liquor, stowed away in the studio’s cabinets. Angry and frustrated. More so importantly confused.

“Aren’t you going to go get her back, Mr. Jaeger? She can’t possibly believe that’s true. You guys would never..”

“Well she does and when she gets her mind set on something, there’s no changing it…”

how in the hell had a rumor like this started anyway?! Who was so bored as to drudge up old photos and post them, claiming that they had slept together. And most of all?….

how could he face you again..not knowing if it was true himself?

[faefictions]

Snow in Indiana

Eddie Munson x Reader

5.7k words

Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most

Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)

“Dear Eddie, 

Does it Snow in Indiana?” 

He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time. 

“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.” 

Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well. 

“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.” 

Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles. 

When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes. 

He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends. 

That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years. 

The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day. 

Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up. 

At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore. 

He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now. 

He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account. 

He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion. 

“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”

He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner. 

You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching. 

“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.

“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold. 

“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper. 

“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way. 

Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office. 

“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?” 

“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room. 

“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.” 

“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.” 

“Used to be your grandma’s house?”

“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.” 

“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?” 

“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.” 

Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you. 

“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.

Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left. 

“Any luck with that address?”

“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.” 

“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”

You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place. 

Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.” 

You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice. 

“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.” 

He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind. 

Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on. 

Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van. 

“Left out of the lot?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”

“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.” 

The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet. 

“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh. 

It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow. 

“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door. 

“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.” 

“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”

“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”

“Long trip?”

“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”

“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”

You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van. 

“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging. 

“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, where is it?”

“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”

“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it. 

He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat. 

“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face. 

“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize. 

“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”

You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment. 

“Everything ok?” 

He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. 

“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”

“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought. 

But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky. 

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving. 

“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.” 

“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy. 

“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.” 

“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”

“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.” 

Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it. 

“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”

“My whole life.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so. 

“That good huh?” you laughed. 

“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”

“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.” 

You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”

“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”

“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.” 

You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie. 

“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you. 

“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.” 

“They wouldn’t be mad at you.” 

“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process. 

“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.” 

“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”

“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face. 

“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”

You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side. 

“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma. 

“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house. 

“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you. 

“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”

“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.” 

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.” 

“Have you ever lost anyone before?”

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him. 

“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.” 

You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head. 

Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way. 

The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long. 

You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him. 

“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more. 

“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”

“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal. 

“Someone back home?”

“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall. 

He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much. 

He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face. 

“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.” 

He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding. 

“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”

He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.

Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes. 

“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”

“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard. 

He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“I told you she’d like it here” 

A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it. 

“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking. 

“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped. 

“What?”

“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke. 

He nearly panicked as he tried to reply. 

“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”

“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment. 

“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch. 

“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”

“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”

“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”

“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions. 

Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought. 

“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it. 

“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”

“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself. 

“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb. 

And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away. 

It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you. 

“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth. 

“I am now.”

(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker  @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

[wineauntie]

evie and mom surprising Quinn with adoption papers🥺🥺

OH I LOVE THIS! (This is one longggg blurb, basically a fic without all the formalities)

Also I wrote this in under 25 mins and it’s severely unedited due to it being 2am

universe masterlist

Evie was seven when she asked if Quinn was her real dad. Your smart girl knew she looked nothing like Quinn and that Quinn was her ‘Winnie’ up until she’d started calling him dad when she was four.

You’d never actively hidden the fact Quinn wasn’t her dad, but Evie had never been fully interested in the fact or conversation at all.

She’d popped the question in the car on the way to school and despite your preparation for the day you knew would eventually come, you found yourself hurriedly taking Evie to a small diner nearby instead of school that day.

The two of you had sat down with hot chocolate and pancakes as you explained that Quinn wasnt her dad by blood, but he was her dad by heart, and that’s all that really mattered.

Evie was curious, she asked about her ‘blood dad’ and why she had never seen him. You treaded carefully around the subject, cautious so as not to hurt Evie in any shape or form.

Evie’s biological father was a horrible man whom once told that you were pregnant, had broken up with you, told you he was sleeping with your best friend, and then demanded you got rid of Evie, or ‘it’ as he’d called her.

You avoided saying any of this to Evie, simply saying that “he wasn’t ready to be a dad and then he had to go away.”

Evie looked a bit confused and as you expected a wave of questions from her, she shrugged saying “Dad was ready to be a dad.” And then proceeded to ask for more pancakes, knowing you’d give into her every whim at that moment.

After another plate of pancakes later, and the two of you cuddled side by side in a booth Evie had yawned, and curled into you, her voice small and tired as she whispered “I wish dad was my actual dad.”

Your heart cracked at her defeated voice, but a niggling thought arose in your head. A thought that pestered you to the point of restlessness, to the point where the world ceased to exist outside of your little family.

You’d told Quinn what had happened that day and he supported you whole heartedly, even going as far as having a one-on-one conversation with Evie about it. You allowed the both of them to talk in private only hearing snippets like “you’re my kid, bug, no blood will change that.”

And

“I love you too, now why don’t you go grab a movie and you, me and mom can go watch it?”

You spent days upon days mulling over the thought that lingered and grew exponentially by the hour and before you knew it, it was two weeks later and once again, you were driving Evie to school.

“Hey, Evie?” You asked tentatively. Your sweet little girl’s head bobbed up and down with a small hum as you pulled over the car to face her. “You know our talk we had about dad not being your blood dad?”

“And that dad is my heart dad!” Evie excitedly added, her teddy bear, Ted, held in one hand as her eyes twinkled. No matter how old she got, the teddy gifted to her by Quinn’s brothers, always accompanied her in the car on the way to school and remained there until she was collected afterwards.

“Exactly,” You smiled softly, your face completely losing any tension at your girl’s words. “Well, how would you like it if Dad became your real dad…your legal dad?”

The thought had been floating around for the past two weeks and it hadn’t been the first you’d thought of it. What you had with Quinn was undeniable– the two of you had been together for five and a half years, almost six years and he had become so ingrained in every aspect of your life and being.

He loved you to the moon and back, his care and love shining through with everything he did. He’d even gifted you a promise ring a year ago, an act of complete and pure commitment to you and Evie. Your daughter had gotten a small, dainty necklace, that mimicked the design of your ring.

Quinn was in it for the long run.

He knew it, and so did you.

“My legal dad?” Evie questioned, sounding out the sentence like an intricate problem.

“It means that he’ll sign an adoption paper, saying that the world recognises him to be your actual dad, and not just your heart dad. He’ll adopt you.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Is that like what people do with dogs?”

You tilted her head at her question with a light laugh. “I suppose it is,” you shrugged.

“I like dogs…I want Dad to adopt me.”

And that was how you arrived at this very moment. It was the beginning of playoff season with the Canucks dominating their first game and Quinn playing incredibly.

The three of you had decided to have a nice family night with a dinner consisting of food you’d ordered in and a movie night, where the three of you would watch whatever Evie desired.

Evie was like a spring, bouncing up and down in her seat in excitement, glancing towards you every now and again. Your girl was smart, when you told her that you guys should surprise Quinn with adoption papers, she was all for it.

Quinn was chatting away to Evie and you all dinner, explaining the playoffs to Evie and catching up on the day with you.

Things were running smoothly under Evie eventually cried out and whipped her head towards you, unable to contain her excitement.

“Mom, can we do it now?!” She pleaded, her wanting eyes shattering any resolve you possessed.

“Do what?” Quinn paused his chewing and placed down his utensils, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Evie beamed at him as you handed a large envelope to your daughter. “What’s that, Bug?”

Evie, now holding the envelope, felt a sudden wash of doubt cross over her, her eyes flitting towards you in worry.

“It’s okay, my brave girl,” you murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Take your time.”

Quinn, unsettled by the sudden drop in Evie’s excitement looked ready to pounce into protective mode, with Evie wrapped safely in his arms. He remained quiet as you shot him a reassuring look, his gaze following Evie as she tread close to him.

“Dad?” Evie mumbled, her eyes pointed at her feet. Quinn felt his lips twitch up at the name. The name itself never failed to elicit the most glee-filled feeling he’d ever felt, and hearing it from Evie, his daughter, warmed his heart and soul.

“Yes, Bug?” He answered, his fingers lifting her chin carefully so that the two were looking at one another. His hand cupped her worried face, as he tried to rub soothing circles on her cheek. “Is everything okay?” He watched as Evie took a deep breath in before holding out the envelope.

“This is for you,” she explained meekly, glancing at you for support before focusing back on her feet.

“Me?” Quinn mused, cautiously taking the it from her. His fingers flipped open the unsealed envelope, pulling out a set of papers, neatly paper clipped together. His eyes scanned the first few words, which were big and bold across the top.

APPLICATION FOR ADOPTION ORDER

Quinn’s jaw went slack, his eyes immediately jumping to you, as you bit your lip nervously, urging him to react.

“You…me…you want me to adopt you?” Quinn’s raspy voice cracked as he refocused his attention on Evie.

“Not like a dog, but like my actual dad,” Evie supplied as if she was teaching him to understand it. She turned to you as you graced her with a smile for remembering what the two of you had talked about.

You didn’t often see Quinn cry. He wasn’t much of a crier you see. When he got upset, he got tired or quiet, so when tears tumbled down his cheeks you and Evie were lost in what to do.

“Oh no, we made dad upset,” Evie whimpered, looking at you in panic and devastation.

“No…no! I’m not upset,” Quinn choked out, his hands dropping the papers as he moved to fully face the small girl. “I’m just…I’m really grateful, Bug…this is, it’s just…thank you.”

Quinn captured Evie in a tight hug, her head burying itself into the crook of his neck as it once had whenever she was younger. Her own little arms had thrown themselves around his neck, clutching onto him as if he’d disappear if she didn’t.

You watched, with your own hot tears spilling over onto the cushion of your cheeks as your daughter hugged her dad. Watching the two together seemed to mend whatever your ex/Evie’s dad had broken inside of you.

“Mom, come join,” Evie’s muffled voice called out from its position. That was all it took for you to rush towards your family, enveloping they both in a tight hug. You watched as Quinn lifted his face, his reddened eyes, filled with love and happiness meeting your encouraging ones.

“You’re sure about this?” Quinn whispered to you and only you. He loved the two of you more than words could ever deny, there was no buts about it. He just wanted to be sure that you were one hundred percent certain on it.

You pressed your lips to his, feeling the saltiness of his tears against his plump lips before slowly drawing away to lean your forehead against his.

“I have never been more sure of anything.”

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 4

PREVIOUS CHP.: PROLOGUE 3

Thank you guys for the likes, reblogs and comments.

Also, to the people who became my followers, I'll be forever grateful for that😊

CW: When MC gets mistaken as a guy, they get referred to as he/him, but the problem is that there's too many males around the MC.

So, I've decided to color the pronouns blue when it's MC that's being addressed. Just to avoid confusion.

CLARIFICATION: The headmaster, and MC knows that Yuu is from another world, so MC decided to play along and pretend that they're from the same world as Yuu. (The human world where MC came from is mostly similar to the human world that Yuu describes. i.e. landmarks, cultural, knowledge, current trends, anime and manga are all mostly the same.)

REMEMBER: Read this before the chapter.

Experience changes people.

If you see MC doing something you think you won't do and you decide to complain about it, remember this:

• You act the way you do because of the things that you've gone through in your life.

• MC is the same.

• They experienced a lot of traumatic events and almost lost their lives a fuck-ton of times.

• Because of that, they've changed. They've diverged from being you into the MC that they are now.

• The life you're living now shall be treated as the MC's canonical past.

• Also, because The Obey Me!cast feels bad from all the times you suffered and almost died because of them, they tend to overcompensate you.

• You get dressed in the finest of fabrics, most luxurious jewels, as well as housed and fed with the best things that the three realms have to offer.

• You don't take them for granted, but years of living with that lifestyle had raised your standards to new heights and changed the way that you act towards certain things.

• You're free to make up your own head canons if you don't like mine, also y'all can give me feedback if you want so I can improve my work.

• This story will be set a few years after the canon of the Obey Me games.

• • • • •

Who would've thought that it would be a bad idea to try to trick someone who literally reeks of luxury to live in an old, bout-to-fall-apart dormitory?

Well, certainly not Crowley.

That fact became known when 'The shady looking dorm leader™' and also, the tablet decided to tag along with you, Yuu and Crowley, but then had to help Yuu in holding you back so that you wouldn't beat the ever living crap out of the headmaster the moment he dared to bring y'all in front of this rustic establishment and say "It had charm". (Too many You's)

Oh really? really?? Oh you'll see real charm when I beat you straight into the afterlife you greasy son of a bitc–

*Ehem*

It did not end well.

So instead of that, the headmaster had to temporarily put you and your fellow stranded-in-dis-school-human into the infirmary as your temporary abode and promised to fix the shoddy dorm so that it can safely house people in it. (Grim will appear in the future, dw)

*Que Azul tryna make you stay in Octavinelle and you vehemently declining that offer.*

Also, you're starting to get creeped-out by the floating tablet that keeps following you around and won't stop with taking pictures. there's also the small maniacal giggles coming out of the device.

• • • • • •

So there you two are, two people that've been kidnapped by this school's fuckin carriage are now bonding in the infirmary and distracting each other by venting about problems back home. (You two are too wary to be able to sleep properly.)

Like, yes Yuu, I'm in a polyamorous with more than a dozen problematic individuals.

Yes, it works out. somehow

Damn, three assignments due tomorrow all from the same subject? Have you ever tried cheating off of your classmates?

Oh— wait what?! a classmate from biology was caught fucking with a professor in a classroom!? Seriously??

No, I unfortunately no longer have a grasp on the concept of private space and poverty.

Yes, maintaining a relationship with a lot of people at the same time can be hard.

A lot of them are rich.

Wait, a seatmate of yours really gave two free expensive sketch pads just because you asked?? Where can I find that person??

Yes they all act like my sugar daddies and my man-children in one way or another.

No, don't you dare pimp yourself out, okay? There may be a lot of people in my life but the important thing is that we all love each other.

We support, comfort, protect, and guide each other to the best we can.

No— that didn't happen in a day, I had to bend over backwards and almost die a shit-ton of times before I managed to wiggle myself firmly into the hearts of those fuckers.

...Q- Questions about our sex life will be automatically ignored.

Just.. be nice to others, even if it's seemingly stupid.

Unless they are absolute scum then just maintain distance.

You just gotta eyeball it to figure out when to stop being nice to someone.

Never and I mean NEVER treat anyone badly unless they did something unforgivable to you.

Don't call me kind. It's easier to have a grasp on other people if you're nice.

Pft— You once saw a book called "How to be a sugar baby 101" in the school library?! And you saw your principal reading it?!

Sure-sure, I'll help you with your math homework— wait a second.. Seriously?? We've been kidnapped, I ain't allowing you to do math. Where the hell did you even hide that thick-as-fuck test sheet anyways?? Up your ass?!

• • • •

You sigh for the third time this hour, looking at Yuu who's making a "Mom.. I threw up in the carpet... I'm sowwy🥺" expression as they stand beside your bed.

"What happened?"

Yuu winced, feeling embarrassed as they hear you talk to them like a disappointed parent, they had failed to appeal to Crowley about becoming a temporary student of this school and now had to be a janitor/errand kid.

"The headmaster said that I'll be the handy-man of the campus while he searches for a way to get us home..."

You feel a vein in your head throb and your eye start to twitch by of the sheer audacity being shown in front of your face.

You are now feeling the immense urge to hex that bird-bitch.

Satan sat straight in his seat, speaking out to the others in the meeting table.

"I can feel irritation and the urge to curse someone again." He said.

It would've been funny if this was another situation.

"That's definitely from MC, isn't it? You mentioned being half-asleep and feeling MC get agitated through your pact mark, right?" Diavolo asked.

"Yes, at least our pacts are still intact..." Satan nodded.

"Great, we can use this to monitor MC even if they're far away." Lucifer stated.

Countless search-parties and interrogations have already been conducted, but they're still clueless on where you can be or who could've taken you.

Even Barbatos couldn't see what had happened.

They're starting to get agitated, MC..

• • • • •

Jade watched as Azul frantically drafts and redrafts a new plan of his.

It seems that something caught the eye of their housewarden in the ceremony today.

"What could be so eye-catching that you're in such a hurry to obtain it, Azul?" Jade couldn't contain his curiosity and asked.

"It's a new student, Jade." Azul started.

"He possesses such a large amount of magical artifacts in his hands, It's unbelievable! They were all high quality too!"

Jade blinks.

"Don't you have enough magical artifacts around?"

Jade is confusion.

"You don't know it because you weren't there." Azul narrowed his eyes at Jade.

"I first thought those jewelry of his were similar to the ones that you can buy with enough money in annual auctions, but then I realized that it's very likely that those jewelry are customized."

"...How so?"

"So I decided to try and take a closer look, but when I actually got closer and almost touched one of them, I felt a strong thrum of magic that I haven't felt before!"

Oh?

Now that got Jade's attention.

Azul has been exposed to a lot of strong, powerful people and magical artifacts over the years that he and his twin were following this dormleader of theirs and yet there was actually an artifact so strong that he can feel strong waves of magic by just almost touching it?

How curious..... If the magic of the artifact was so strong, why didn't Azul sense it up until he literally almost held it in his hands?

Seems like this year won't be boring, after all..

• • • • •

BONUS: Someone has a crush.

"Brother, Your package has arrived— What are you... Are you making fan art of Mr. [L/n]...?"

Idia screams like a dumb girl in a horror movie as he tries to block the screen with his body.

"O-ORTHO?! WH-WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT KNOCKING FIRST??!"

"And... what's with the pose?"

Ortho tilts head innocently, confused on why his brother is drawing a new student in a pose that can often be seen on videos that are called "Thirst traps". he's still confused about why they're called that way.

Idia: "O- ORTHO THIS ISN'T ANYTHING BAD I SWEARAHGJSI—"

*Starts to fuckin steam*

"brOTHER YOU'RE BURNING THE CHAIR!"

"AH CRAP!"

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Don't forget to like, comment and reblog guys, It's a big help :3

What do y'all think of the chapter? pls respond, I need feedback🥺

I woke up today and decided to kick canon's ass.

Elae: Thanks for reading this far.☺️

See y'all next time~

Next chapter: Prologue 5

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