#hate to go on about him but... pink 💕💕

[piescornerstore]

Assorted angry pinks + a blue and a spam

If YOU were the city's top salesman and your position was suddenly usurped by the runt... you'd be mad, wouldn't you?

[munsonify]

hey!! i was rewatching season 3 and steve is just so cute, im sorry but if he tried to flirt with me at scoops ahoy, i would say yes!! i was thinking about a fic where they knew of each other in high school but were never friends then she runs into him working at scoops ahoy and he starts flirting BUT SHE ACTUALLY IS LIKE FLIRTING BACK AND HES SO FLUSTERED. and like they go out and it’s lowkey cute and afterwards is just some good classic steve smut

MUCH LOVE 💕

hey!! i adore this idea!! i’ve always loved season 3 steve and idc what anyone else says. sending love and apologies for taking so long, i hope you enjoyed this!!! (this fic ended up way longer than i expected im so sorry i dragged some of this shit on).

shoots and scoops

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. after steve boldly starts flirting with you - his old classmate - at scoops ahoy, you take the opportunity and run with it.

warning/s. 18+ smut mdni, harmless flirty banter, possible ooc steve, steve calling r honey, steve calling r an idiot (affectionate), kissing/making out, hickeys, body worship kind of? (f!&m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), handjob, piv sex (protected), hand holding during sex, alludes to aftercare

word count. 6560

———

“well ahoy beautiful!”

your first instinct was to laugh - a deep, chest heavy chuckle that startled you when you felt it coming. you choked it down quickly, a slight wheeze slipping out in replace. it sounded slightly of a scoff.

the man standing in front of you was the last person you’d think would be flirting with you. steve harrington, whose hair was finally being constrained in a lousy sailor hat, stood with a flirtatious smile that has never been thrown your way. you know he hated how flat it looked, even if you barely spoke to him during high school. the man who always had every strand of hair placed perfectly would be caught dead before messing with his routine.

that was until now, which you assumed was not his choice.

it was a split second decision for you to respond the way you did. what the hell, right?

“ahoy handsome. nice hat,” you teased with a giggle. your eyes were bright behind your lashes as you look up at the man. he knew then he was a goner. a lump formed in his throat and his cheeks tinted pink quickly as he reaches up and takes it off.

you hear steve mumble something about a ‘stupid uniform’ as he drops the hat to the ground. in a weak attempt to try and redeem himself, he starts to ramble, moving away from your last comment. you’d never seen him get this way.

admittedly, you loved it.

“what can i get you, sweetheart? u.s.s. butterscotch? a banana split? plain chocolate? my number?”

you giggled at his last offer. for a second you thought, and for a second or two longer you faking-ly thought some more. you needed to make sure you didn’t come off as desperate. or at least too desperately.

you were honestly loving this attention.

“depends. how much does the latter cost?” offering him a sweet grin.

“just a date with me.”

your grin grew, and you knew you couldn’t resist.

“give me a scoop of u.s.s. butterscotch too and we’ll call it a deal.”

———

the moment you left with his number in one hand and a bowl of ice cream in the other, steve whipped around to find robin. he found her with her whiteboard propped up, marker with the cap still on. he was quick to snatch it from her hand, putting down two tallies under ‘you rule’.

“two? steve it was one girl,” robin protested, trying to wipe away the second tally. steve was quicker, moving the board to sit next to his discarded hat.

“she flirted back and i bagged a date with her. that deserves two.” he spun around to face the front of the store again, smoothing his hair back with a smug smirk. “i’m so back.”

———

a soft knock at your front door made your heart skip a beat. it’d been two days since you’d ran into steve at scoops, the flimsy napkin he wrote his number on the back of still on your nightstand, folded neatly. his voice sounded more smooth and confident over the phone. you could tell he talked himself up before answering to cool his nerves.

you checked yourself out in the mirror in passing, before moving to the door, opening it after a long, deep breath.

there steve was, hair done in his usual way. he wore a nice, short sleeved shirt that showed off his freckles biceps nicely, and a pair of his nicest blue jeans. you nearly poked fun at him for finally covering up his thighs, but you stopped yourself at the sight of the flowers in his hands. you settled on something a little less narrow. you definitely didn’t want him to think you were staring at him or anything.

“hey there sailor,” you greeted with a small smile, your eyes bright as you stare up at him. you tried looking in his eyes to avoid his toned arms, though his eyes were just as disarming. they’re a warm honey that make you fold.

“hey you,” his smile was just as pretty as his eyes. steve held the flowers in front of him, and you noticed how tight his grip was on the stems. was he as nervous as you were right now?

your heart skipped another beat at the way your fingers brushed against his when he passes you the flowers. in a desperate attempt to contain yourself, you welcomed him in and thanked him, rushing around to find a vase to set the beautiful flowers inside of. you weren’t worried about cutting the stems down or filling it with water just yet, only worried about your heart not falling out of your chest and straight into steve’s hands.

whether good or bad, you knew this was gonna be a long night.

———

it was a sweet night. steve treated you to dinner and a drive-in movie in which you spoke through most of. much to your surprise, you found it very easy to talk to the man. he was easy going in a way he never was in high school. his usual nonchalant attitude wasn’t as prominent anymore. you liked it.

“ya know,” steve whispered, leaning over towards you. his lips were right next to your face, only a few inches away from gracing your skin as he spoke. you were glad it was so dark, hopefully your blush wasn’t too prominent. “i betcha i could do that.”

by that, you were assuming steve meant karate. up on the screen was ralph macchio, side by side with mr miyagi in the second rendition of the karate kid. a small giggle rippled through your chest, eyes rolling playful as you turn a little to look at him. your faces were inches away, noses nearly brushing against each other. you could feel his warm breath against your skin. it smelt faintly of spearmint - he must’ve slipped himself a mint after dinner.

“you’re an idiot,” you teased, staring right into his eyes. “there’s no way in hell you could do that. you’re no macchio!”

“i am too! you haven’t seen my kickass fighting skills yet, you wouldn’t know,” steve exclaimed, still in a quiet tone. he’s speaking like he’s gotten into loads of fights before. “but i can promise you i could clear him, easy.”

steve was so certain in himself. you always knew him to be a little cocky, so this wasn’t much of a surprise to you. what was a surprise was how much you liked it. god were you screwed.

———

the drive back home was nice. you spoke to each other about how you enjoyed the movie, steve still convinced he could do karate. he even tried showing off, whacking his hand off the steering wheel like an idiot. that and the little wince he let out sent you into a fit of giggles you struggled to control. it wasn’t until the man shook his head, whispering a small ‘alright, alright’ that you managed to suppress them.

what really pushed you into silence was that same hand moving to rest against your thigh as steve drove. the sudden display of affection made you freeze. you weren’t repulsed or ungrateful for the sudden touch, only caught off guard. your teeth began to toy with your bottom lip in a weak attempt to contain yourself. you were so glad you were pulling into your driveway.

one of steve’s large hands pressed against the small of your back, gently guiding you to the front door of your house. he heard the way your breath caught in your throat and stayed there. the boy hadn’t even let go of you yet and you were already mourning the loss of his touch. in just a few minutes you knew he’d let go and be gone.

“i loved talking to you tonight,” steve spoke, his voice soft. he seemed fond, content.

“me too,” you told him, a small smile playing on your lips. it was almost shy. you watched as steves eyes flickered down to them, shiny with lipgloss you recently reapplied. the hand on your back moved to gently cup the side of your face. his thumb swiped slowly against your cheek, eyes gazing into yours.

“can i kiss you?” all you could do was nod. steve’s free hand found its way to your hip, gently pulling you towards him. his body slotted against yours perfectly, broad chest and strong arms practically enclosing you in. man did he smell good.

steve’s lips finally found his way towards yours, soft and inviting. they slotted between yours in a kiss that made your head swirl. if he didn’t have such a good grip on you you were sure you’d fall over from dizziness.

the kiss only lasted for a few too short seconds, your hands finding their way to his chest sometime during then. it took you a few moments to compose yourself enough to let your eyes flutter open. when you did, you caught glimpse of steve’s pretty eyes gazing at you, cheeks rosy pink and warm.

he let a soft sigh slip from his mouth. in a way, it felt painful for him to pull away from you. steve let his fingertips graze against your cheekbone, before dropping his hand to his side. the grip on your hip, however, stayed. his lips parted gently, mind swirling with thoughts he tried to get ahold of. he wanted to say something, but you really had a grip on his lungs. he wanted to stay, follow you to your bedroom. he wanted to feel your soft skin against his. he wanted to know what you tasted like. god, he had to stop. he didn’t want to mess things up by being to ahead of himself.

“would you wanna stay?” steve’s eyes went wide. everything from the tone of your voice to the way you stared up at him through your eyelashes screamed you wanted him too. needed him to. you about look as desperately as he felt. and, just like you before, all he could do was nod.

gripping the collar of his shirt, you gently pulled steve back down for another kiss. it was more heated this time, deep and needy, slow. a low hum reverberated in his chest, rattling against yours, eventually reaching your perfect lips. you blindly began to search behind you, a hand desperately trying to find the handle to your door.

steve helped, breaking the kiss for only a few moments, opening the door and pushing the two of you through it. the only thing he did was make sure it shut behind you two before his lips were back on yours, he let you slowly guide him in a stumble towards your room, arms holding each other steady as you make your way down the lengthy hallway.

on any other occasion, you’d be a little embarrassed by how cluttered your room was right now. your dirty laundry basket was overflowing, failed outfits from before the date in a small pile somewhere on the floor. the only thing you seemed to care about was getting steve out of these tight jeans of his.

once you secured your bedroom door shut, the man was careful with guiding you towards your slightly untidied bed. he let you lay down first, watching as you rest up on your elbows towards the top of your bed. steve was quick to climb up right after you, and even quicker with his hands, pawing at your waist as he leans down to connect your lips again.

a hand found its way to his hair, threading your fingers through it to tug his face closer to yours. it was a deep kiss, one that made you dizzy again. you were grateful for the soft landing behind your head in the case you do need to fall back.

steve’s lips parted after a while of your slow make out, tongue brushing against your lips in a plead. you let your lips part immediately, letting your tongue meet his, warm and desperate for more. finally, the man adjusted himself above you, gently moving to rest between your now parted thighs. when your lower halves connected you realized just how much trouble you’d be in.

his thick, heavy bulge pressed right against your covered heat when he settled in, letting his weight rest against you gently. even then, with the barriers between you two, you could tell steve was big. with the pressure still settled between your thighs, he adjusted himself slightly to rest against one of his forearms, pressing it right next to your side. his other hand started slowly exploring your body.

steve didn’t let his touch breach your clothes yet, despite the both of you desperately wanting him to. he was being respectfully, hand caressing up your waist, smoothing against your body until it settled beneath one of your tits, cupping slightly, yet not touching the supple skin. the boy could feel the way your bottom lip pouted out slightly into the kiss.

with that, steve pulled slowly away from the kiss, a small string of spit connected your lips briefly before it snaps. his eyes slowly opened, meeting yours in a droopy, heavy stare. somehow, he looked even more desperate than before. his hand drops down from its place beneath your chest, fingers beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt. he looked into your eyes in a desperate plead.

“can i?” steve whispered, not willing to move any further without your permission. you were quick to nod, almost too quick. if you weren’t so pent up you were sure you’d kick yourself for it.

you helped the man slide your shirt off your body, watching him discard of it on your floor amongst the other clothing of yours. steve still didnt seem to notice the mess, though, evidently preoccupied with something else. his eyes scanned your torso as respectfully as he could manage. he seemed to be memorizing your smooth skin - he admired the way your waist and hips curved (even through your shorts), the way your stomach pudges at, the way your tits sat perfectly inside of your bra.

that’s exactly where one of steves hands went next, behind your back to feel for the clasp of your bra. you gave him an encouraging nod, eyes trailing against his face, catching the freckles against his cheekbone. he was quick with pinching the clasp undone, something you were sure he’d practiced tons of times. while he was quick to unclasp your bra, he was slow to pull your straps down. steve let his fingers dance against the smooth skin of your arms, goosebumps waking at each dusted touch.

his eyes dropped down to your chest again the moment you bra was off. you saw the way his lips parted slightly, catching a glimpse of the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he lets in a quick, small breath. just before he could bring himself to start kissing on you, he felt your hand rest right against his chest again, gentle and needy. you gently tugged at the fabric of his tight shirt that was frankly hiding nothing, eyes pleading up at him for just a little look at him.

steve was quick to oblige, tugging off his shirt to expose his tanned upper body. dark, wiry hair spanned across his chest, eventually thinning down into a line that disappears into his too tight jeans. like a moth drawn to a light, your careful fingers found their way to his broad chest, nails scraping through the hair and against his skin delicately. you could feel the way steve’s stomach lurched and his abs tense slightly when your touch starts grazing down towards his stomach and happy trail. you were memorizing him the same way he was memorizing you, yet somehow, it felt different to him. the way you admired him with your gentle touch and your soft gaze tugged at his heart.

he was in desperate need of a distraction before he combusts. steve, as gentle as ever, slowly lowered himself against you again, large hands guiding you back down on the bed with him. unlike last time you leaned down, you let your back hit your soft mattress, head resting on one of your pillows with a pretty floral design on it. you let your hand rest on his lower tummy as steve’s face leans towards yours again, lips capturing yours in another breathtaking kiss.

you planted your other hand right on his shoulder, smoothing it against his skin in attempts to ground yourself in the moment, temporarily satiating your need for more. one of steve’s hands found its way to your waist, fingers tracing your skin, tickling you slightly. the other found its rightful place back beneath where your breast sits, cupping slightly. the smirk he gave into the kiss when he felt your breathing hitch against his thumb was diabolical.

steve broke the kiss just after that, lips trailing to your jawline in a slow, determined manner. he didn’t try and rush anything. he wanted to take his time with you, explore your body, truly feel you. steve let his lips kiss all the way to the pulse point on your neck before he truly latched his lips to you. you let your head rest back a little more, giving him all the room in the world to kiss where he pleases. it took you a second to realize his true intentions here, though the moment you felt his teeth begin to graze your skin, it clicked. you almost wished he would stop making you so dizzy.

once the man sucked a delicate, soon to be purple hickey to your neck, he let his lips trace your body even further down your neck. steve’s mouth trailed to the center of your chest before his head started to tilt up slightly to look at you, a quick check in to make sure you were still okay. he could feel how quick your heartbeat had picked up. the moment your eyes locked with his he knew to keep going. his slow kisses found their way to one of your breasts, the hand underneath reaching a little farther up to squeeze gently, lips grazing your soft, plush skin.

steve wrapped his lips wrap around your hardened nipple for only a few short moments, warm tongue grazing it, earning a pretty whine from your mouth. he received the same reaction when he gave your other breast the same attention.

the hands you had on steve’s body slipped away from him reluctantly as he travels down lower, intimate kisses pressed against your stomach and your sides. you weren’t quite sure where to put your hands yet, letting them hover above the two of you slightly until you were sure. just like your hands, steve eventually found his way to the hem of your jeans, his kisses pausing for a moment as he hovers over your clothed cunt. that’s when it hits you just how worked up he had you. all of those warm kiss and gentle touches have you aching for release, and more importantly, him.

steve’s pause had you worried, your eyebrow quirking up as you searched his face for some sort of hesitation or worry, any inkling of a ‘no, i don’t want to’. you saw none of the on his face.

“out of all the places you decided to stop,” you mumbled at breathlessly. “this is where you landed?”

steve let out one of his chuckles that make your tummy burn hotly, watching as he peaks up at you through his eyelashes. you began to lean up on your elbows again to get a better look at the boy. “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you idiot.”

you tried to contain your giggles, a few slipping out past your lips that were quirked up into a small smile. you gave him yet another nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth as you watched steve roll his eyes affectionately at you. his hands found their way to the buttons of your shorts, tugging your zipper down quickly afterwards. you lifted your hips up gently to help him shimmy them off of you, watching him tug them down and toss them with everything else of yours.

before you could let your hips settle back down, one of steve’s hands found its way to your lower back, holding you up for just a few short moments. he was quick to grab a pillow from beside your head, and even quicker to wedge it beneath your hips. you’re unbelievable was all you could think as you settled back down onto the bed.

heat spread up your neck and to your face the moment it hit you just how intimate he was being with you, broad shoulder placed between your spread thighs, face hovering over your lace panties. they were soaked through, you could feel it. even worse, you knew steve could see it, smell it even. and, as if steve could hear your thoughts, he brought a firm, soothing hand up to your hip. his thumb began to smooth against your bare skin, helping you settle down properly again.

every little touch he gave you was electric. a small zip flashed through the delicate skin of your thigh the moment steve’s other hand found its way there. though cold, though new, that touch soothed you too. he left small kisses on the skin of your stomach as he began to whisper to you.

“lay back, honey. let me take care of you.” fuck. you nodded to him in a haze, laying back into the bed comfortably. steve continued to leave small kisses against your exposed lower body, touch relaxing you even further into the bed until he finally made the move. his lips kissed right covered clit, making you jump ever so slightly. your slick made your panties transparent, leaving nothing to his imagination. soft kisses trailed down slow until his lips found your pulsing opening.

steve left a firm kiss right against it, letting it linger, before his tongue lolled out of his mouth. flat and eager, he let it slide from your leaking hole back onto your clit again, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against it before pulling away. an exasperated gasp left your mouth, a hand of yours moving to your forehead to rub slightly in irritation.

you always knew steve was a tease. he upheld that reputation a while with the ladies. you just didn’t think he was this much of a tease. he was working you up beyond belief. this was the complete opposite of how he’s been with you thus far - straightforward, easy going.

steve let his warm tongue connect with your clit once more, swirling around it slowly, before pulling away. this time, even with your desperate whine, he didn’t leave you hanging. his fingers hooked the sides of your panties, tugging at them enough to get your attention. you lifted your hips up long enough to let him tug them past your hips and down your thighs, before finally letting yourself rest down.

“so pretty honey,” steve whispered to you, hands finding their places back on your hip and thigh. you weren’t quite sure whether he was talking about you or your pussy - either way, it made your body heat up dramatically. without much of a thought, one of your hands found its way down to his, the one tracing your waist. he caught on to what you wanted quickly, grasping your hand in a gentle hold.

steve went through the same motions as before. after slowly spreading your folds apart with his unoccupied hand, his lips found your exposed clit in a warm kiss. he could feel the way it twitched against his flesh, and god did he love it. his lips trailed down to your opening again, watching as your arousal slowly drips out of you, leaking down to the puckered hole beneath it. a soft kiss placed against your opening was followed once again by his warm tongue, slowly sliding up through your folds again.

a breathy moan slipped out of both of your mouths at the feeling, only yours was followed by yet another as steve began to slowly lick at your clit. his tongue swirled and licked at the sensitive nerves with skill. you couldn’t help but bring your other hand down to his soft hair, threading through his locks gently to ground yourself, giving his hand a squeeze.

you could feel steve tense up, and you worried that maybe you’d done something you shouldn’t have. was he really that stuck up about his hair? you realized quickly how wrong you were when you saw the way his eyes fluttered shut for a few moments in pure bliss, lips wrapping right around your clit and sucking gently, almost as a thank you. you let out a choked moan the moment his lips latched and sucked, thighs tensing up slightly.

you were about to crumble hard, undoing all of the glorious work steve put in to work you up. he even doubled down, the hand not holding yours finding its way to your cunt, his middle finger collected up some of your arousal that was leaking from you. and, just as his tongue swirled around your clit once more, steve eased his thick finger inside of you slowly. a small gasp broke out from your mouth, feeling him pump his finger in and out of your tight hole. it wasn’t until several deep strokes that he pushed in a second finger, stretching you open, tugging a few desperate moans from your chest.

by accident, you’d tugged on the roots of steve’s hair. he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, a guttural moan hitting against your clit, sending shockwaves up your body.

“i’m so glad i don’t have that stupid hat on anymore,” steve mumbled against you, lips a little too preoccupied with sucking deliciously on your clit.

“i kinda liked it,” you let out breathlessly, trying so hard not to fall apart too quickly. instead of verbally responding, steve simply curled his fingertips into a spongy spot in your body you didn’t even know someone could reach. your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling, letting out a broken moan. it was all so much - you could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, and quickly.

steve’s fingers kept brushing against the perfect spot, his lips and his tongue somehow knowing exactly what you needed from him. your chest started to heave slightly as you rapidly approached your orgasm, grip on his hair tightening slightly, urging him to keep going. your moans sung out for him to hear, uncontrollable and needy. you tried to warn the boy, though your words came out in a slight mess right as everything hit you.

pleasure filled every inch of you as steve works you through your high. the wet squelching coming from your sopping cunt only encouraged him more. your whole body tensed up for what felt like forever, hand gripping his as you grind slightly onto him, desperate for the last bit of friction before he pulls away, whispering thank you’s to him. he gave your clit a final farewell - a soft kiss - as he slowly sliding his fingers from your cunt. you looked down in bliss just in time to see steve, king steve, wrap his pink lips around his fingers and moan at the taste of you.

hesitantly, you let go of his hand, gripping ahold of his shoulder instead as you gently tugged the man up the bed towards you. the poor guy was still stuck inside his jeans. somehow, he hadn’t torn the threads in the front, his hard, thick cock pressing against the coarse fabric in an attempts to release itself. once steve was properly hovered over you again, your hands went straight to his belt buckle, only you right before undoing it, looking right up at his dark, lust filled eyes. his eyes darted across your face worriedly, before letting it drop, shaking his in disbelief.

“funny,” he whispered, gently pressing himself against your hands further. you gave him a teasing smile right as you began fumbling with his belt. you wish you had the patience to admire just how nice the leather on it was.

steve let you fumble around with his zipper, only assisting you in kicking off his jeans, keeping it far away from the two of you. he was still situated between your thighs, this time his hips slotted perfectly between them, knocking them wide open. your hands found their way back to his soft tummy as he leans in closer, face inches away from yours, noses knocking against each others. your eyes were still focused downwards, though, letting your hands drift towards his steadily leaking tip. you traced it oh so gently through the fabric of his boxers, close enough to his face to hear him inhale sharply.

your fingers began to trace the length of his cock, feeling the curve he has to him. the loss of his fingers inside of you made you feel empty, and all you could think about was how perfect he’d feel inside of you. your hand gripped his length through the fabric and squeezed gently, watching as another splotch of pre cum appears in its wake. you were much less of a tease than steve, you realized, giving into him quickly as you slowly tug off his boxers, helping him discard them.

finally, you got a full, unfiltered and unblocked view of steve’s cock. truthfully, you’d never seen one quite as nice to look at. his tip was a bright red, still leaking pre cum, veins lining his length perfectly. he was heavy in your hands when you grasped him again, lips lifting into a pleased smile at the sound of his soft gasp. you gave him another gently squeeze, slowly twisting your hand up his length, and down just as slow, smearing what you’d collected at his tip down with it. your hand somehow seemed so small compared to his cock, and you loved it.

“need you inside of me, stevie,” you choked out, finally peeling your eyes away from his dick, looking straight into his eyes when he looked right back up at you. you batted your eyelashes at him, eyes begging for him as you continue to slowly stroke him. steve stares at you with an almost blank expression, almost like he wasn’t quite listening, little whines rippling through his throat as his eyebrows knit together.

you stop stroking him at his base, squeezing his thickness once again, touch not leaving him. “said i need you inside f’me, stevie, please?”

you watched as he finally processed what you said, eyes going wide, head nodding rapidly as he scrambles back to his jeans to fish out his wallet, tugging out a condom he so conveniently had stashed away in there. this is the first time tonight you’d seen steve so at loss for words, and you weren’t sure why.

he did, though. this was the first time since he’s been in the dating pool that he’s felt a real, honest connection with someone. sure, you guys had only been on this one date. he knew that. there was just something about you and you’re kindness, your humor, your passion for everything that had him swooning. intimacy was a lot different when you were with someone you could admire like that. not to mention how hot you are.

steve fumbled through slipping the condom on properly, and it didn’t help you were beneath him smiling patiently up at him like you were. the moment he successfully managed it on, he found his way back down to your level, faces finally close again. steve has an arm rested right beside your head, his hand gently brushing all your hair away from your face. he wanted to see you properly, look you in your eyes.

you gave him a reassuring nod, telling him that yes, you were ready - that you wanted him. with a hand cradling the top of your head and the other gripping the base of his throbbing cock, steve lined himself up with your entrance. he was gentle with the way he pressed himself into you, your arousal still plentiful, helping him ease his way inside of you better.

“fuck,” you let out, eyebrows and nose scrunched up at the way steve was stretching you out. he let you adjust to him inch by inch, knowing how difficult it is to fit him at first. you brought a hand up to his face, cupping his jaw to get him to look at you as he slid in the rest of the way, bottoming you out, eyes locking at the perfect time.

“there ya go honey,” steve whispered, lips pressing against your forehead as he encouraged you, his cockiness finally slipping through again. “i know, tight fit.”

you could tell why he put so much effort into working you up the way he did - getting you in the mood, kissing you all over, filling you up with his fingers. it made this ten times easier on the both of you. he liked doing all of it regardless, making you feel good that is. he liked being of service.

when steve pulled his lips away from your forehead, you were quick to bring his attention to your own lips, pulling the man down gently to connect them with yours. it was a deep, desperate, wet kiss, something you craved so badly right now. that’s when he started to rock his hips into yours, slowly rolling himself down against you. he let himself test the waters, see how easy it would be for you to adjust fully.

luckily for the both of you, after a few slow, deep strokes, you adjusted just fine. the arm not rested by your head found its way to your waist, fingers trailing your soft skin as he begins to find a rhythm to fall into. he picked up the pace a little, hips moving just a bit faster as you make out. you let your hand move to the back of steve’s head, fingers threading once again in his beautiful hair. it wasn’t until you rested your other hand against his chest, smoothing against it that you found out what really gets to him.

the feeling of your nails scrapping against his scalp, your hand firm against his chest, and your dripping cunt squeezing around him was fatal. his hips stutter and snap harder than he intended, a desperate moan falling from his lips and directly into yours. your body jolted slightly at the snap of his hips, a moan falling out of your mouth along with his.

“sorry, sorry you just- fuck you can’t just do that,” steve rambled out, breaking the kiss and slowing down his thrusts. you gave him the cheekiest smile, raising your eyebrows at him.

“why not, handsome?” you questioned, circling your hips at the perfect angle, his tip snagging at just the right spot inside of you, whimpering beneath him. “s-seems like you liked it.”

steve adjusted himself at the sounds of your whimpers, nudging himself around until he finds that spot again, slowly thrusting himself into you. your grip on his hair tightened again, bottom lip quivering slightly as you take in the pleasure.

“i do, i do,” he reassured, finally finding his rhythm again, moans slipping from your lips. “just not when i’m t-trying not to go too fast, or f-finish too fast- fuck, honey, feel so good f’me.”

your back arched just a little at the sound of him praising you, clenching down around him again, just like you did before that caused the praise he gave. steve’s eyes lit up at the realization. he had some dirt on you now, too, and man did it feel good to be even.

“wouldn’t m-mind if you went faster,” you spoke, eyes begging up at him, legs spreading wider. you were already sensitive from your last orgasm, but now that he knows you like being praised? and he’s looking at you like that? you were struggling to contain yourself. “wouldn’t mind if you went h-harder either.”

“yeah?” he questioned.

“yeah.”

steve gave you a long, gentle kiss on the lips, petting your hair down affectionately, before he sat up a little in his place. he uses his large hands to readjust your legs, helping you wrap them firmly around his waist, giving him more leverage to fuck into you properly.

with every thrust from then on, steve fucks you just a little faster, just a little harder, until he finds that sweet spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you reach a hand out to desperately claw at him, finally find one of his hands to grab onto, holding hands with him just like before. this time, however, you tangled your fingers with his holding onto him tight. he’s gentle when he pins your hand down against the mattress, the complete opposite of how he was fucking into you right now.

you started to writhe underneath him, moans becoming more frequent, eye contact becoming harder to keep. you were close.

“look at me,” steve spoke out, chest heaving a little from exertion, choked noises of pleasure bleeding through. “honey, look at me. wanna see those pretty eyes when we cum.”

you let your eyes flutter open, forcing eye contact with him as you rapidly approach your orgasm, his praise feeding into your pleasure. he gives your hand a squeeze, a squeeze you’re quick to reciprocate. he looks just as close as you are - fucked out and needy. you kept your other hand planted in his hair, anchoring yourself down, keeping him close.

“gonna cum, stevie, gonna- ohgod,” you could barely get your words out by the time your second orgasm washes over you. your cunt convulses around steve’s large cock uncontrollably, gushing around him. you fought tooth and nail to not let your eyes close, and you were so glad that you didn’t. steve was quick to cum right after you, face scrunched up all cute, moans and whines almost on par with yours, white ropes of warm cum filling the condom. he had a hold on your hips and waist that would leave bruises as he took you two through your orgasm.

you two stayed there for a few minutes. no thrusts, no tiny hip movements, just taking in the feeling of your orgasms, heavy breathing filling the room. you two still maintained eye contact, even after it was all done. you were the first to break the silence.

“can you wear your scoops uniform next time?”

“oh shut up.”

the both of you burst into a fit of laughs, steve finally, slowly pulling out of your wrecked cunt. you were glad you had a trash can in the corner of your room - the only thing steve had to do was stumble over and discard his condom, grabbing ahold of his boxers and his shirt, offering up the shirt for you to wear. you happily obliged, tugging it on, before motioning to your panties after he slipped into his boxers. steve wanted to make a comment about how you ruined the pair, but spared you just tonight.

he was hoping there would be many other nights where he’d be granted to opportunity to do that.

[writeriguess]

Hii! If you don't mind, can you write an bakugou x fem reader where reader likes Katsuki and everyone including Katsuki knows cuz she always gives him gifts (that he throws out), compliments him, and overall just always there annoying him and one day Katsuki had enough and lashed out on her telling her that she's annoying and insulting her. Reader ofc got hurt by this and stopped. You can decide if it's full angst and no happy ending or angst but happy ending!

If you don't like writing something like this it's fine!! I love your works btww!!💕💕

Too Much

You were relentless.

Every morning, you greeted him with that same bright smile. Every training session, you cheered him on, even when he didn’t need it. Every holiday, you left little gifts—protein bars, extra bandages, even stupid handmade keychains with tiny explosions on them.

And every time, Bakugou threw them away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t notice you. No, everyone knew you liked him. Even he knew. How could he not, when you made it so damn obvious? You were always there, always orbiting around him, always pushing and pushing—until one day, he finally snapped.

It happened after class, in the locker room hallway. You had just handed him another stupid little package, a neatly wrapped box with a bow on top. Probably some homemade treat again. His jaw clenched. His patience ran out.

"Tch—just stop it already!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"

"Just fucking stop, alright? You’re so goddamn annoying!" His voice was sharp, cutting, full of frustration that had been building for months. "Always following me around, always giving me shit I don’t need, always acting like—like if you do enough, I’ll magically like you back!"

Your hands curled around the gift, fingers trembling. The sting in your chest was immediate, like someone had punched all the air out of your lungs. "I-I just…"

"What, huh? You think if you keep this up, I’ll suddenly give a shit? News flash—I don’t!" His ruby eyes burned into you, his scowl deeper than ever. "I never asked for any of this! So just… fucking quit it already!"

Silence.

You swallowed hard, lips parting like you wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, you nodded—once, twice—before clutching the gift to your chest and walking away. No tears. No protests. Just… silence.

And for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt off.

***

Days passed. You avoided him. You weren’t dumb—you heard people whisper about it. You saw the looks your friends gave you, full of pity. And you hated it. So you threw yourself into training, into your studies, into not thinking about him.

But Bakugou?

He noticed.

At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. But every time he glanced at his desk and saw nothing there, every time he caught himself looking for you in a crowd, every time he found himself missing your voice, something gnawed at him.

And eventually, it ate him alive.

So one day, he found you sitting outside, staring at the sunset, and without thinking, he sat next to you.

You stiffened, eyes flicking to him, but said nothing.

A long silence stretched between you before he finally muttered, "You stopped."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "That’s what you wanted, right?"

His hands curled into fists. "I—…Fuck, I didn’t mean—" He exhaled sharply, frustration mixing with guilt. "Look, I was a dick. I know that. But I didn’t…" He struggled, searching for the right words. "I didn’t want you to go away."

You stared at him for a moment before looking away, voice quiet. "Then why did you tell me to?"

Bakugou had no good answer.

But for the first time, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small, worn-out keychain. One of the stupid explosion ones you had made. The one he hadn’t thrown away.

And for the first time, you saw the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks as he shoved it toward you.

"Shut up and take it back."

[klaus-littlestwolf]

would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie VI

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8.5k words

From me: last part for now 💕 thank you for all the support on this 😍

Warnings: violence Kael, some injuries, anger, some fluff and reassurance.

Summary: She is trying her hardest to keep Harry out; but would it be that bad to let him in?

Has Harry mentioned how much he hates Kael Crowe?

Harry had his hands in his pockets while they skated alongside each other. With gloves on her hands, she held them out slightly at her sides for balance. From someone looking at her, she probably still looked like a toddler when she skated. But she didn’t need Harry to skate backward in front of her anymore, which was a win in her book.

The chill in the air made her nose red and she looked so cute. She was all bundled, nice and warm. Harry wanted to find mistletoe even though it was well past Christmas. Granted, he would have done just about anything to kiss her. She bit her lip when she concentrated, especially while skating. The same expression when she focused on the eye piece of her camera making sure the picture would turn out perfectly. Harry swore his smile was going to split his face in half just looking at her.

Unlike her, Harry looked so at ease. She loved seeing him on his used skates, the ones that he clearly had for years and weren’t for the show of his games and because of his sponsors. He looked so tranquil and happy. The ice was his happy place. It almost seemed more natural for him to be on skates than it did on solid ground.

Also unlike Harry, she was not smiling. Especially not smiling like the joy was going to burst out of him like a princess singing a song.

“Y’look more comfortable on y’skates.”

“Mm,” she shrugged. “It’s getting easier.”

Harry noted that she had seemed a bit more introverted the last couple of days—a little more withdrawn. Something was clearly bothering her, and he couldn’t quite place it himself. Callie flirting with her didn’t even faze her (although it certainly fazed Harry). When she directed the guys to pose, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t joke about Asher’s good side (or lack thereof, in Harry’s opinion—especially when Asher insisted that she tell him he had a good side). At The Locker Room she didn’t laugh as much, and she didn’t invite Harry inside when he made sure she got home safely. “Rookie, is something wrong?”

“No.”

But she answered way too quickly. Immediately, Harry did an about face, turned to skate in front of her, gliding backwards so effortlessly. One eyebrow quirked up in question. “Talk t’me, Rookie,” he encouraged.

She took a deep breath. “We’re going to play The Wolves,” she reminded him. Harry had seen the schedule; he knew the game was coming up.

What did that have to do with anything? “Yeah,” he nodded. “So?”

She stopped skating, executing her little stop perfectly. Harry was so proud of her abilities and how much better she had gotten with practice over the last couple of months. Still, she looked upset. She rolled her lips into her mouth as she worked through whatever was going through her brain. “I don’t want you to get into it with Kael.”

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re worried ‘bout? Why you’ve been so quiet the last few days?” She shrugged and looked away from his face. “Rookie, do y’think distancing yourself from me for a couple of shitty days is going t’make me less likely t’fight that sorry excuse for a man?” She glanced at him briefly, her cheeks turning pink under his assumption. His very correct assumption. “Bunny,” he frowned.

She sighed heavily. “It’s just... you’ll get in trouble, and I don’t want that, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I can barely handle it when you get checked into the boards. I’m always worried you have a concussion,” she grumbled.

Harry felt a tug in his chest over her sweet words. “You like me, Rookie," he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She glared at him. “Shut up, I do not.”

“You care about me.”

“I care about you the same way I care about Niall or..." he was praying she wouldn't say it. But she was feisty--one of Harry's favoirte things about her; so of course she was going to say it. "...Kian.”

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes at her. The flirtatious smile left his mouth. “S’not the same way y’care ‘bout Callie, Rookie. Not even a little.”

“You’re so ridiculous about Kian, Harry.”

“Stop calling him that. And quit distracting me,” he grumbled. Taking a deep breath he shook his head of thoughts regarding his least favorite teammate (which was a real shame because other than Niall, Harry loved Callie). Sighing, he smirked again as he watched her avoid his eyes. “You like me, Bunny.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Of course I like you Harry,” she rolled her eyes as she mumbled the sentiment.

“Yeah, but you like-like me.”

“Are you six?”

He ignored her fake insult and leaned in to peck her cheek. “I like-like you too,” he whispered in her ear.

She shoved him gently, but her cheeks remained flushed with color. “You’re insane.”

He took her hand and tugged her toward him to continue skating. “I don’t care ‘bout Crowe,” he said quietly. “I don’t want y’worrying ‘bout me over him. The last time we saw him... hopefully that got the message across,” he squeezed her hand. It was nice to pull her along now that she could skate better. He liked holding her hand. Touching her in general was one of his favorite past times. “M’worried ‘bout you seeing him again.”

“Well, I’m going to wear my number eleven jersey,” she smiled brightly at the thought. Harry thought he had won MVP, the championship game, all rolled into one. “So maybe you’re right. Maybe he’ll get the message.”

The face-splitting grin was back. “Yeah?” He spun again so he was in front of her, this time he pulled her flush against him. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss her. “Didn’t think y’would be one t’make someone intentionally jealous.”

She shrugged. “If you don’t want to be part of my plan, I could always wear Niall’s jersey, or Lang’s, or even Cal—”

“Do not finish that thought, Rookie,” he growled and pressed her face into his body where she laughed silently against him, shaking as she giggled. “You’re mine.”

*

The arena where The Glacier Wolves played truly felt like enemy territory. There was something palpable in the air; you could practically taste the venom coming from both teams. The last time they played, the whole team was pissed at Kael. She tried to keep her distance, but she felt the stares of the guys coming from every angle. Harry’s name and number were all over her body. She kept to herself staying by the media and press at the other end of the rink so that she wouldn’t distract the team.

“Is she good?” Charlie asked Harry.

Harry glanced toward the other end, finding her immediately in black and silver. “Think so,” he shrugged hoping it wouldn't be too obvious he was in love with his coach's niece.

“Styles,” Charlie’s voice was deeper somehow, filled with intensity. Harry looked at his coach. Instantly he swallowed nervously, seeing the seriousness on his face that clearly had nothing to do with hockey.

“Coach?”

“You’re going to take care of her?”

“With my life, sir,” Harry vowed.

Charlie ran a hand over his face and then through his hair as he pushed it back. Harry could see the anxiety all over his face. “You hurt one hair on her head, I’ll bench you for the rest of your career.”

Harry smirked and nodded. That wouldn't be a problem. Harry would welcome it. Plus, he appreciated the approval. “That seems fair t’me.”

“If you hit Crowe a little too hard today, I’ll look the other way. Or chip in on the fine.”

Harry smiled brightly. “You got it, Coach.”

*

Kael found Harry on the ice almost as soon as the game started. Both started essentially in the same position as the puck was dropped between Asher and Kael’s teammate. It was the matchup of the league. Every news outlet was talking about it leading up to the game. Two of the biggest names in hockey. Old rivals playing against one another just like old times. The shit-talking that ensued made him crazy but he tried to keep his cool for her.

Each time he was checked into the boards, he remembered her sweet face saying she worried about him. Harry didn’t want a single penalty (well, that wasn’t true. He wanted to knock every single one of Crowe’s teeth out). Instead, he caught a glimpse of her at the glass the camera lens pressed through the cutout for the media. His jersey with his name and number all over her.

He wasn’t going to fight Crowe.

Fortunately, Harry’s team was having a hell of a time doing it on his behalf. Collectively there had been almost one full period worth of penalties. Callie cheered from the penalty box when Asher laid Crowe into the boards. Their level-headed captain even got sent to the box for two minutes with a smile on his face. Niall didn’t let a single one of Crowe’s shots get past him. And maybe Niall tripped him up when he got too close to the net.

As such, the Chargers played short-handed almost the entire second period, yet they were still winning at the second intermission.

It didn’t stop Crowe from his onslaught of shit-talking despite being down. He told Harry how terrible he was, how shitty his stick handling was, and that he kept missing obvious shots. All his comments seemed to be a projection of how terrible he was playing and perhaps it was because the pretty photographer wearing Harry’s jersey added it to the mind games in Kael's head.

Maybe Harry would have to rethink the whole jealousy ploy she had going on. It was a nice touch (especially when he wasn’t subject to the feeling).

Harry smirked as he stood across from Crowe while they dropped the puck. Almost immediately Crowe slashed at him. Earning zero penalties and no looks from the ref. Harry growled but remained calm. He was only keeping calm for her and only her. Otherwise, he would have added himself to the penalty box. It would mean more to Crowe than it did to Harry if he lashed out about the pretty photographer.

There was only a minute left in the game and Crowe’s team was down by two, so it was sure as hell a win in the Chargers book. But Harry wasn’t celebrating until the piece of shit was off the ice.

With no one in the Wolves’ net, Harry stole the puck away from Kael and slapped it directly into the back of the net. He grinned brightly as his team cheered and tackled him, pressing him into the glass right near the pretty girl who had the camera pressed to her face. He winked at her amidst the madness and Harry couldn’t help but notice how big her smile—not even the camera obstructed how joyful she looked.

As the buzzer signaled the end of the game, Harry and his team skated for their bench. They were happy to win, but they were all thrilled to get off the enemy’s ice.

“Enjoy my sloppy seconds Styles.”

Harry could take the comments about his effort, his ability, his looks, anything.

But he would not, under any circumstance, take criticism about the lovely girl at the other end of the ice.

Harry skated right in front of Crowe standing almost the same height as him, marveling happily at how he was a couple inches taller than his opponent. “What the fuck did you say, Crowe?”

“Harry!” Niall shouted skating back onto the ice almost instantly. Camera flashes from every angle ensued.

“Styles!” Ray shouted from nearby.

“It’s not just talent and ability you want from me, you have to take my girl?”

“She’s not yours, you piece of shit,” Harry was gripping his stick tight, talking through gritted teeth.

“Harry!” She screamed—her voice was far away but Harry could pick it out of a sea of people.

“You couldn’t find your own girl, had to take mine. Don’t worry, I stretched her out for you. She’s a good lay—” Harry dropped his stick and gloves with a quiet thunk on the ice. By then his teammates made it to him, Callie and Asher lunged for him holding him back.

“Crowe, walk the fuck away!” Asher snapped. Harry pushed against him as he got in the fray; he could only imagine what the announcers were saying as they watched two of the top players in the league get dangerously close to fighting after the game had ended.

“Charlie!” She shouted, her voice was closer but not close enough.

“Harry don’t do it,” Callie begged. “Walk away," he tried to plead calmly. "Go get her and you can take her—”

“That’s right listen to every one of your teammates and that naggy bitc—”

Right as he clenched his hands into fists, he felt her soft, delicate fingers wrapping around his hands. She was on the ice. Unsteady and standing in front of him in just her boots. “Hey, look at me,” she begged her eyes a bit wild.

“Bunny—” He started his teeth clenched together. "Get out--"

“Cute, well you got one thing right, Styles. She’s a dumb little puck bunny.”

She shoved Harry as much as she could while he tried to get away from her gentle touch. “Sweetheart,” Asher warned.

Crowe laughed. “You sleeping with the whole team, baby? One whole team to replace me?”

She spun on her heel, nearly sliding to the ground, but Harry caught her by the elbow because he was certain his first priority would always be to take care of her no matter what. “Your problem is with me, Kael,” she snapped. “So, if you’re going to pick fights, pick it with the person you have an actual problem with, you coward.”

“I’m not the one calling you a puck bunny, baby. They are. You must like it if they all call you one,” he teased with a shrug. He knew she didn’t. She said it all the time while they dated. “That’s what you get for riding dick like it’s your job, Bunny,” his tone was antagonizing. Who was he trying to get a rise out of? Was it Harry? It couldn’t have been. Harry was already pissed. Was it her? Maybe. She already hated him.

“Get off the fucking ice!” Charlie shouted.

No one moved. Except Harry who was dying to get his hands on Kael.

Kael took his helmet off and looked at her. “You’re nothing but a groupie, baby. When Harry’s done with you, you’ll come crawling back. You have nothing.”

She was shaking, perhaps as badly as the rest of the team was. She wanted to smack him across his stupid fucking face, but she was trying to remain composed with so many cameras on her. This was already going to be a PR nightmare, and it was all her fault. Although she was sure none of the guys would care, it bothered her. Just another reason to add to how she fucked with the team’s energy and made everything different since her arrival.

“Kael, just stop. Leave me alone,” she hissed.

“Or what, baby?” He taunted. “Your group of fuck buddies will go after me?”

“Watch it,” Harry snarled still straining against Callie and Asher.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, pushing her hands into Harry's chest behind her. He slid backwards a little to create more space between them. “This isn’t worth it,” she said loud enough for Kael to hear.

However, he wasn't accepting their escape. Their way to take the higher ground. But before she could get away, Kael grabbed her arm, hard.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Truly, suspended in disbelief as she gasped. "Ow, Kael!” She yelped.

“Oh, fuck no,” Harry growled lowly.

“Shit,” Callie grabbed at Harry harder and yanked him back before he could kill Crowe on a live broadcast.

Niall and Lang stepped forward as Asher helped Callie hold Harry back. “Let go of her fucking wrist, Crowe,” Niall said putting a hand on her back.

“You have two seconds to let go of her,” Lang added at the same time.

“Let fucking go of me,” Harry thrashed against his teammates.

She bent awkwardly trying to get her arm back, gasping at the pressure he pitted against her so effortlessly. “HEY!” It was Ray who shouted. “That’s enough! Crowe, let go of my niece or I’ll kill you!”

But Charlie was already on the move, next to Crowe in the blink of an eye. He was shorter than the bulky, built hockey player on skates by a head or maybe even two. Without hesitation he reached for Kael’s neck as if he were the same height and pressed on the space between his neck and clavicle. Within seconds, Kael was gasping, he dropped her arm instantly.

There wasn’t a break in his movements, everything fluid like he was skating on the ice as Charlie shoved his niece backwards making her lose her balance, but Harry caught her just before she hit the ground. “Everyone off the fucking ice!” Coach yelled.

Harry had never been so relieved to have her in his embrace as he skated off the ice, pushing her forward quickly even though he wanted to kill Kael.

“Are you alright, Sweetheart?” Callie asked.

“Shut the fuck up, Callie,” Harry snarled.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“Jesus, Styles, I just wanted—”

“Shut. Up.  Don’t ever get in my way like that Calloway, not when she’s—”

“Harry,” she repeated stronger as she nearly had to race to catch up to them on their long legs—even with skates. She grabbed his hand, still balled into a shaking fist. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kian isn’t the bad guy here,” she reminded him. Harry glared at his teammate, shoulders heaving with each angry breath. After a moment he nodded, his jaw flexing tautly as he did.

“Sorry, Callie,” she whispered, squeezing his arm which made Harry huff out a breath and look away. He strongly considered snapping his stick in half. Again.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. We all get a little crazy about you,” he smirked. “Harry,” he nodded and headed into the locker room. She turned to Harry to remind him that his teammates weren’t the problem, ever.

“Are you alright?” Charlie asked, catching up as they stopped in front of the locker room.

Harry stared at her unsurely waiting for her answer with bated breath. She nodded, putting on a brave face. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?” Harry asked, taking a heaving breath. His hands were still shaking at his sides.

She nodded. “I’m fine,” because she was. There might be a bruise on her arm from the grip he had, but she wasn’t in pain anymore. He didn’t break anything (which was a horrifying thought) but it wasn’t any less true. “Please go change, I want to get out of here,” she urged. Harry’s eyes flicked to Charlie before he went into the locker room after his teammates. She twisted her wrist once he was out of sight. Charlie narrowed his eyes at the movement.

“Are you—”

Quickly with an awful realization, she touched her neck. “Oh fuck, I left my camera,” she grumbled rubbing her hand over her face.

Charlie was staring at her just as unsurely. “I’ll have someone go get it.”

“No, it’s fine,” she shook her head. “I need the walk, the air,” she sighed.

“I have a press conference. I can skip it. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Positive. I’m sorry I caused all this,” she frowned. “I really feel like you didn’t ask for any of this with the team.”

“Hey Sweetheart?” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I always hated Crowe,” he smiled. “You were way too good for him. If the whole team got in trouble for hurting him, well, that would be worth it in my book. If he ever touches you again, I think the whole team will kill him.”

“Well, we have a whole season to prepare for that,” she smirked sadly. “Thank you, Uncle Charlie.”

“Anything for you Sweetheart. Go take a few breaths,” he squeezed her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Wish you slapped him; you earned it,” he winked over his shoulder as he headed for the media room.

She smiled and took several deep breaths calming herself as much as she could as she walked back down the tunnel to the rink. She had been in the very arena hundreds of times. It never felt like home. Not the way The Arctic Chargers arena felt. In a shorter amount of time at that. The idea that she had ever thought she could live her life in this arena feeling like she was less was crazy. Especially when Harry and the entire team made her feel so important.

She said hello and waved to people she recognized from her days spent watching Kael. Her new media friends said hello as well. She waved to the man driving the Zamboni and snagged her camera off the visiting bench that she dropped there when she saw Kael antagonizing Harry from across the rink. She couldn’t believe she nearly lost it in all the commotion; but she supposed for Harry, it was worth it. It could have been a lot worse.

Following Charlie’s advice, she continued breathing deeply. Hoping to calm herself from the inside out. She was glad she didn’t hit Kael. As much as she wanted to. With her luck, he would have pressed charges or something. It would have played right into his act.

Hopefully everyone saw the way he grabbed her wrist.

For several seconds, she sat on the bench, her head between her knees breathing and collecting herself. Harry looked murderous. She hoped he showered and felt better. She would have to thank Callie and Asher again for holding him back before he did something terrible.

Sighing, she stood, headed for the locker room once more. Relieved there would once more be a whole year between now and the next game she would have to see Kael next season. She was going to forget about any of her stuff at their old apartment. He could have it. It didn’t matter. As long as she had her camera, she could make everything else work. She looked at the screen to continue calming herself. As soon as the boys were ready, they would head to the hotel and get some sleep before a red eye flight home. Her hotel room bed sounded like heaven (even if it was going to be missing a number eleven in her blankets).

She was so ready for this day to be over.

Right as she exited the tunnel and headed down the hall toward the locker room, she was shoved against the wall, hard. She didn’t know how the guys got checked into the boards all the time. Even with padding on that had to have hurt—and multiple times? Forget it. She felt an ache all over her back. The air in her lungs was displaced and she moaned as she tried to breathe through it. It felt like her body was one giant bruise in a matter of seconds.

Kael held her in place. His eyes dark and his face expressionless. “You’re a lot more vulnerable without a hockey team behind you.”

She gaped, as he easily yanked her camera from her grip and dropped it to the ground. Her eyes watered at the sound of all the mechanical pieces cracking. She whimpered. “Kael,” she gasped as the air slowly returned. “Let me go.”

“You were good for my image, baby,” he crooned. “Didn’t you like living the luxurious lifestyle?” He skimmed the back of his finger along her cheek. Other than a helmet and gloves, he was still in all his gear, skates, and pads, so he towered imposingly over her. She whimpered again. “You have no power here,” he reminded her pinning her in place by pressing close to her. If anyone walked by, they would think it was just a heated form of foreplay. His legs caged her in. His body holding her in place.

His hand closed around her throat.

“Stop,” she begged squirming to get away from him.

“You’re pathetic. You think just because your uncle is a coach and your new boyfriend is a sorry excuse of a look-a-like for me that you can do whatever you want,” his voice was low, threatening. If it wasn’t immediately following a game maybe someone would have seen the interaction. But instead, the players were in the locker room, coaches in the media room, other workers in the arena. It was just the pair of them. “You’re nothing, baby. You’ve got nothing.”

He was good. Waiting until she was most vulnerable. Even if she was lucky enough for someone to come by, she was certain he made it so he didn’t look like he was harming her or speaking terrible things to her.

But she was right there. Hearing every menacing word. Every word meant to cut her deeper than any physical harm he could cause her. “You’re nothing but a groupie, baby. You’ll always be a dumb puck bunny.”

“Please,” she croaked, gasping for breath. Her squirming wasn’t enough, he was too strong, and Lord knew how long until the boys would come out of the locker room and Charlie out of the press conference. No one was coming to her rescue.

She clawed at his arms, but the pads protected him. Everything was protected which seemed like a metaphor she couldn’t quite put together right now.

Everything except the hand on her throat.

She bent her head at an awkward angle allowing air to flow just enough. Thrashing against his hold hoping he would slip just a bit. He didn’t notice she was trying to reach for his hand. He must have assumed she was trying to escape. It didn’t have to be a lot she just needed something to give.

When it did finally give, she wasted no time. His hand moved just enough so that she could bend her neck completely. Once she could, she bit down as hard as she could on his finger.

She bit so hard that she tasted blood.

“What the fuck!” He growled yanking away instinctively. She didn’t waste a second and bolted. He was on skates, and she was in her boots so for once in an ice arena she had the speed advantage, and she wasn’t going to lose that.

Without really noticing where her feet carried her, the locker room burst open before her. She couldn’t even see because her eyes were blurred over with tears. She choked out a sob as the door shut behind her.

“Bunny?” Harry sounded concerned, curious, and confused all in one little word that she hated so much (especially right now) but loved when Harry said it.

“Oh hell,” Asher whispered. It was quiet then, no one moving, or speaking.

“Harry?” She cried, unable to see as she wiped uselessly at her face to rid herself of the tears and she pressed her other hand to the top of her chest trying to stop her heart from flying out of her ribcage and soothe the ache and burn of knowing his hand was on her neck. The other hand went to her mouth. Her face tilted down, and her hair fell in front of her face.

If the team was naked, she wouldn’t even know. Her vision wasn’t clear enough to see an inch in front of her.

“Bunny?” He repeated, his voice closer, his hands gently caressing her face. A massive juxtaposition to how Kael held her moments before. “Kitten,” he turned her neck ever so gently inspecting every inch of her face. “What happened?”

“H-he broke m-my camera,” she sniffled and swiped at her eyes. With a little more clarity, she could see Harry was half undressed, just his practice jersey and compression pants on him. He was sweaty and never looked hotter and she was a goddamn wreck.

“I’ll kill him,” but it was Niall who growled out the sentiment. Before another word could be uttered, she heard the locker-room door open.

“Oh fuck,” Lang was quick to follow.

“Bunny,” Harry crouched slightly to meet her gaze. “Kitten, what happened?” He repeated. She shook her head, her cries catching in her throat again. She buried her face into his chest and sobbed. Harry cupped the back of her head, curling around her protectively the way he always seemed to when she cried. “Fuck, Bunny,” he frowned. His lips found her ear. “Did he touch you?” He asked.

She nodded. The rest of the team must have already anticipated what she was upset over, because it was even quieter than when she entered. She felt Harry start shaking again. It started from the center of his body outward. She imagined his toes were shaking. Fully vibrating with anger. “I’m gonna kill him,” Harry’s voice was so low and so terrifying she shivered.

“Please don’t leave me,” she sniffled.

He groaned and tightened his grip on her. “Y’killing me, Rookie,” he mumbled.

“I just want to go home, please,” she begged her voice breaking.

His heart broke. “We’re heading to the hotel soon, and I’ll drive y’home when we land, Bunny, I promise,” he assured her. The thought of leaving her alone was repulsive. Almost as much as this whole moment with Kael.

“No... take me home with you,” she whispered.

Well, if there was one way to keep him sane, he supposed that would be it. “Take you home?” He repeated. “My home?”

She nodded. “Please, I don’t want to be away from you.”

Make that, two ways to keep him sane.

*

She refused to say what he did specifically. He didn’t do anything but hold her in the hotel bed until the team left in the middle of the night for their red eye flight. He sat next to her on the bus and the plane, carrying her stuff and wincing every time she sniffled. He combed his fingers through her hair, refusing to let go of her for anything other than the bathroom. He made sure she drank enough water and had medicine for all the aches she endured.

Charlie was fuming in his seat. Between what happened and her lack of response about what happened, he may have sent Harry several messages regarding how he would enjoy going to jail if Harry hurt her. He ignored those messages for the time being. But he did pay attention to the one where Charlie said he was looking into getting the security footage pulled before Kael could swipe it from the arena.

The team had no problem messaging Kael. The coward left before anyone could find him. Niall found her camera shattered to bits on the floor. Callie pulled the memory card from the wreck but there wasn’t anything that could be done to save the equipment.

Except of course, Harry ordered her a new, top-of-the-line camera while she showered in his bathroom.

After what felt like hours but was only maybe half at most, she finally exited the bathroom. Harry turned from lying on his bed to sitting on the edge watching her immediately. Her eyes were red-rimmed, hair damp. She looked adorable even when she was sad, and it was so unfair. She was wearing a T-shirt Harry pulled from one of his drawers. It had the Chargers logo across the front, and he wished more than anything it had his name on the back.

“Did that help?” He asked.

She nodded but held the towel out to him. “I don’t know where to put this,” she avoided his gaze which had to be next to impossible because Harry couldn’t tear his away from her. He took the towel and tossed it toward the corner of the room where his hamper lived, although he hadn’t done laundry in a week, and so the towel fell off the side to the pile beside it.

“Bunny,” he murmured. “Look at me please,” he whispered.

She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “I’m so embarrassed, I’ll cry again.”

“Y’have nothing t’be embarrassed ‘bout, Rookie, love,” his voice was gentle, he reached for her hip and pulled her toward him, opening his legs so she fit between his thighs. “What did he do?” He asked, keeping one hand on her hip and the other traveled up her arm, cupped the side of her neck and slid along to her face.

“You’ll get mad,” she whispered.

“M’already mad, kitten,” he reminded her.

“What is with you and the animal names?” Her voice was soft.

“You’re an adorable creature, Bunny, I don’t have a choice,” he smirked, spoke just as quietly as she did, but not falling for her dodging what he wanted to know. “Don’t distract me,” he brushed his fingertips softly along the outline of her face.

“You’ll be mad at me.”

“Never, Rookie. M’never mad at you,” he hoped he sounded as reassuring as he wanted to be. It was true. He was never mad at her.

“I bit his finger,” she mumbled. “Really hard.”

Harry tilted his head. “You what?”

“He...” she swallowed and pressed her face into the space of his shoulder and neck hiding. “He was choking me,” her voice was so quiet Harry had to strain to hear it. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the anger to stay at bay so she wouldn’t be scared. “And I couldn’t move and... and I just needed the right angle, so I bit his finger. Really hard. I tasted blood,” she explained.

Harry chuckled despite everything. “Good girl,” he pulled her to him and squeezed her tight. “And y’came t’me?” he mumbled thoughtfully cupping her face watching her eyes. He brushed his thumb along her cheek. It was selfish of him to ask when she was hurt. But he couldn't help it. She was his whole world whether she knew it or not and he needed to know.

“I didn’t want anyone else,” her skin turned the slightest pink. “Is that okay?”

Harry’s heart softened. “Yeah, Bunny. S’really okay,” he assured her, then he pulled her back against his shoulder, tucking her into his embrace. “The guys couldn’t find him... the coward,” he snipped.

Harry felt a smile on her lips warm his skin. He grinned half-heartedly and swayed her gently. “For the best,” she admitted. “I like your room,” she whispered glancing around. “Maybe I will take it.”

“S’fine with me,” he shrugged.

She stared at him pointedly. “I don’t want to live here for free.”

“Oh, come on, Rookie I have a hundred rooms with nothing in them.”

“I won’t live here for free.”

“Fine, but you’re not paying rent-prices. Y’can buy groceries or pay the electric bill. Or maybe the Internet bill. But not all three.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re keeping the car.”

“Certifiable.”

*

“Harry, are you awake?” She whispered.

“Mmm,” he hummed sleepily. Her soft voice in his bed was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. It was the first time they slept in his bed. Harry was a lot of things, and it was evident that possessive was a major one. He loved sleeping in her tiny bed when there was no room, so she always ended up burrowing into his side. Still, there something about having her in his room, his bed, wrapped in his blankets that made the Neanderthalic part of his mind undeniably happy. He kept space between them, as he always tried to maintain when they shared a bed. But he felt a compulsion to hold her hand between them as he stared at the ceiling unable to sleep thinking about how much he hated someone who hurt the pretty woman beside him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Bunny,” he whispered quietly shaking his head. “Y’never have t’thank me. Not for that.”

“I do though,” she sounded like she was nodding. “I don’t know why you like me so much. Like... from the start... and still. I’ve been nothing but trouble.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think s’true. And does that matter from the start?”

“I don’t know... it never really happened to me before...” she trailed off. “Kael and I were just around each other for a while—got to know each other and it made sense. Then we were together for a really long time... I never had someone just like me for me, right away without knowing anything else about me. I guess I’m just worried that if... if you do like me—and I do believe you when you say you do—it will change because it changed for him. I’m not that special, you know? I’m not a celebrity. I just take pictures and—”

Harry sighed, if he was visible in the night, she would see him rolling his eyes at the ceiling and shaking his head. “Y’know I had a bunch of contacts for women for all the different cities we visit, right?” He interrupted. It wasn’t the best segue in conversation, and it probably wasn’t a nice thing to hear when he was trying to convince her he liked her infinitely more than he ever liked anybody. Especially after the day she had.

There was a slight pause. If she said something like that to Harry, he would be jealous for days and would probably have to break another hockey stick. So, he was well aware he needed to give her a second to think through her emotions. “Yeah...?” Her voice was quiet again. Unsure.

He reached beside him for his phone on his nightstand. He unlocked it, turned the brightness down, blinking awkwardly against it so he wouldn’t hurt her eyes as well. He opened his messages and handed it to her.

There were a good number of unsaved numbers listed in the threads. Many had the same start of each message previewed before clicking on it. I am deleting your number because I’ve met—

“Harry,” she said softly.

“Open one,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Harry, you didn’t do anything—I don’t want to go through—”

He reached over and tapped on one of the messages.

—a really lovely girl and I want to take it seriously. I won’t be contacting you anymore... You were a great person to know. I wish you all the best. Xx Harry

“Harry,” she whispered breathlessly.

Only some had answered. From what she could see, most who had responded thought it was sweet; they understood where he was coming from, it was kind of him to reach out and not leave them hanging. Some were less happy for him but since they all knew what they signed up for, none appeared to be outright angry or derisive. Harry took his phone back and opened his contacts. If the unsaved numbers were to be believed, he should have had plenty more contacts listed. Instead, it was just teammates, coaches, his family.

And hers. Rookie 📷🐇

She bit her lip.

“I think ‘ve been waiting for you, Rookie, love. I never wanted someone more,” he put his phone back. “M’not kidding. I’ll wait forever,” he promised. She felt her face crumple in half. Emotional over and in complete disbelief that someone so kind and sweet was willing to wait for her when he could truly have anyone he wanted. Someone way more talented and beautiful than her. "Go t'sleep, Bunny," he whispered softly and pressed a kiss to her temple. "We can talk 'bout it tomorrow."

*

Harry made sure she had everything she needed for the day; he snuck into her phone to turn her alarm off. He put a note on the bedside table. No work today. Enjoy playing hooky, Bunny. But please stay so I can see you when I come home. She wished she had her camera so she could take a picture of the note, but her phone would suffice for now. She dreaded the thought of purchasing a new camera. But she needed to deal with one thing at a time. First of which meant breakfast and coffee. She headed to the kitchen after using the bathroom.

The doorbell rang at the exact same time. She peered through the window and saw a man in a black shirt with a green apron. She tilted her head. “Rookie?” He asked tentatively.

“Uh... yeah?”

“Here you go,” he handed her a drink—her favorite coffee and the man left.

She blinked. “How many times have you been here?”

“I was instructed to come every half hour with a fresh drink and wait five minutes until you answered,” he explained backing toward his car. She smirked sipping it. It was delicious.

“Did he pay you at least?” She called tapping her fingers against the plastic.

“Excessively!” He shouted with a grin, pulling his door closed. She smiled, closed the front door, locked it, before heading for the living room sipping her favorite kind of coffee from her favorite guy.

*

She heard the garage door open around five and the door creak from the mudroom attached to the garage to the house.

“Do you like chicken noodle soup?” She asked. “I know that sounds silly, because it’s a classic. But because it’s a classic, there was a time when I was in high school, and I swear I was sick for a month and all I ate was chicken noodle soup. I haven’t had any since, I think. But on a whim, I had some last week, and it was literally the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten,” she explained while Harry took his shoes off. She grabbed the bread she was toasting out of the oven, and she smiled as he slowly made his way to the kitchen.

He looked around the room for a moment. “Did y’clean?” He asked ignoring her rant about soup, he ran his finger along the thin side table that was directly next to the counter. It looked dusted, and the little trinkets were placed back on the table just so.

She smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I know you hate when I do stuff like this, but I was really bored. I shouldn’t be allowed to have a day off. Idle minds, you know? I also figured you must not have time to clean often with your schedule. This place isn’t even that dirty, and I think I’m the one that tracks in all the snow and dirt from the pond,” she explained.

He stared at her as she spoke, dropped his small duffle bag beside him.

She blinked at his weird stance as she stirred the soup in the big pot she was using. “Are you mad?”

His gaze was unmoving from her face. He tilted his head toward the laundry room, the sound of the dryer humming from the hallway. “And laundry?” He asked.

Now she felt like she was in trouble. “Well... you had a mountain of it in your room and I was finished cleaning. Which meant I was about to go insane due to boredom again,” she shrugged. “You’re mad,” she frowned. “I was just trying to do something nice.”

“Dishes?” He jutted his chin toward the empty sink.

“That’s on you for leaving them. You know I love dishes.”

“Grocery shopping?” He hummed.

“I figured if I’m going to live here, I may as well chip in since you won’t let me pay for—”

“What’s this?” He asked looking at the picture frames face down on the kitchen table. He picked one up and inspected it. She had selected several photos. Some of the team, some from her series of photo. There was even one of Marc and Michael. But naturally, the one he picked up was one of the photos from the gallery night.

Harry’s arm wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. While she looked at the woman holding his phone camera, Harry was gazing down at her. His smile was full of adoration. She picked it to be framed because even though the camera didn’t get a look at his pretty green eyes for one photo (which was truly a loss), she felt like the most beautiful thing in the world with the way he looked at her.

“Oh, I thought they were cute pictures, and we could put them—” Harry put the frame down, turned toward the stove and flicked the burner off. “Harry...? What are you—”

He then faced her; he slid his hands along both of her cheeks. Gently, he tilted her neck, so her eyes met his. “My pretty, pretty Bunny,” he murmured brushing the tip of his nose against hers. Her breath caught in her throat. Whatever smart remark she was going to make about him being bossy or extra was stuck on her tongue. His gaze dropped to her lips and then she was overwhelmed by the color green again. Her face felt hot with a blush that she couldn't stop and she was only seconds ahead of what his intention was. “Y’can tell me t’stop, Rookie, love. I don’t want t’rush it.”

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.

“Oh Bunny, y’never have t’beg for me, ever,” his voice was deep, gravelly. Filled with desire and wanting.

And he wanted her.

Harry had waited a very long time to kiss her. But these last few seconds leading to their first kiss felt like a literal eternity, but finally his lips met hers.

She moaned softly, a quiet almost-whimper, nearly the exact moment his mouth touched hers. He was so gentle; it felt like his lips were hardly moving and the drag of his mouth was so sinful she could feel it burning. It burned her lips and every other inch of her skin. Her mind was so entranced with the feel of Harry’s lips between hers, the way his tongue slipped gently along the seam of her mouth, carefully coaxing her open so he could get a better taste of her.

Harry knew she would taste delicious. He didn’t know it was going to be so instantly addictive. But he shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was a little unsure how it happened—too distracted by the feeling of the prettiest man in hockey kissing her, but she was lifted to the counter, her legs around his waist. His hips flush against the edge of the counter. With one hand, he cupped the back of her head, his fingers winding in her hair. The other was at the small of her back, pulling her toward him.

“God Bunny,” he groaned and peppered kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “I’ve wanted this for s'long.” She shivered feeling overwhelmed with his desire. Harry had a way of making her feel special and she should have known kissing him wasn’t going to be the exception. She was nearly out of breath and didn’t know how Harry could keep kissing her. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered into her throat.

“Harry,” she whispered.

He moaned. “Oh, Rookie, y’say m’name like that m’gonna be done for. What d’you want, Bunny? Y’can have whatever y’want... anything. S’yours.”

She laughed silently, her shoulders shaking as his mouth worked across her collarbone to the other side of her throat. He was so tender and intentional in his kisses of where Kael hurt her, and he took all that pain away. “Nothing, I just... like—”

He groaned again and brought her lips back to his, kissing her so passionately it ached. “I like you so much, Bunny,” he whispered, his mouth dragging along her skin. “I don’t want you t’go. Please don’t close yourself off from me. I’ll do anything.”

She felt bad that he felt like he had to beg for her attention. He had it, and he always had it. If she was honest, since the very first time she met him. “I won’t, I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed and pulled her toward him. He wrapped his arms beneath her, supporting her weight and carried her to his room.

“Harry, baby, you gotta slow down,” she giggled.

He moaned or growled. Perhaps a little of both. He tucked his face into her neck again. “Y’call me baby, m’not gonna live.”

She laughed. “Oh, you have to.”

Carefully he laid her back on his mattress. Yeah, he slept beside her the night before. He had snuggled with her in her own bed several times as well. This was different. This was all her walls finally down. Her vulnerability and trust were on full display. Harry was the luckiest man in the world to witness it. To be trusted to take care of her. He didn’t know how anyone could betray such a sweet, perfect person.

“M’gonna kiss every inch of you,” he promised.

“You’ve been awfully patient, Harry. Don’t you want to jump to the good stuff?” Her cheeks warmed once more as she asked.

He shook his head. “No, not even a little. I want every single second of you. Every single kiss. I’d wait forever for you, Bunny.”

She didn’t deserve him, but she would happily keep him. “You’re too good,” she whispered cupping his face and stroking her thumbs along his cheeks. He rested his forehead against hers as he hovered beside her.

“M’not Rookie. You’re too good. Exceptionally intelligent, creative, and deliriously beautiful. My schedule is all kinds of fucked,” he reminded her. “I never had a girlfriend because I can only give you five months.

She smiled. “I’m literally with the team all the time, Harry.”

“But when y’open your studio, y’won’t be.”

“I’m not opening a studio,” she laughed shaking her head, her nose bumping his.

He rolled his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, and very much wanted to make her come all over him. But this was important to him because she was the most important thing to him. “Of course you are, Rookie. Y’have too much talent t’be wasting it on a group of rowdy hockey players.”

There was a wave of pride that bloomed over her. His unwavering support and constant belief in her. She grinned. “Harry Styles," she sighed. "You’re incredible. Number one twice for sure.”

He chuckled softly, ducking his gaze slightly at her compliment. It meant more than any other time he heard it because this was her saying it. “Thanks, Bunny,” he smiled and kissed her again lingering and holding her face in his hands like he never wanted to let go. “You’re pucking perfect.”

--

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[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

ranking the phantom troupe based on how good of parents they would be

1. chrollo. the way that this isn’t even because i have favoritism towards chrollo, its because he’s so responsible🥹🥹🥹 like do you see the way that he basically takes care of the troupe? fathered so hard he mothered tbh. chrollo is literally so girl dad coded🥺 prolly cried when his held his child for the first time. he’d be the sweetest, brushing his daughter’s hair and taking her shopping.

2. pakunoda. she’s so respectful and self sacrificial and responsible im crying🥺 she makes me cry real skibidi tears like togashi look at what you took away from us. she’d be the literal sweetest mama ever. she’s soooo girl mom coded it’s insane. can you imagine her painting her daughter’s nails pink?🥹💕 she would 100% take her daughter on mall trips all the time.

3. phinks. controversial opinion but this guy would lowkey but SUCH A GOOD DAD. remember during the chimera ant arc when he gave shizuku his clothes because she lost hers? i just KNOW that he would play video games with his son and once begrudgingly wore a tiara for his daughter.

4. franklin. i don’t think he’d ever have kids (or want them for that matter), but if ever were to babysit kids, just know that he’ll be great. since we all know that he’s literally just a chill guy, he’ll just let the kids play video games and eat food the whole time.

5. nobunaga. okay okay HEAR ME OUT HE WOULD BE SO CUTE. like okay he wouldn’t be a “good” parent, but can you imagine him running around with his kid wreaking havoc and letting them play with his hair? like come on that’s literally like my dream dad😭❤️

6. shizuku. now she definitely is NOT responsible, but she doesn’t even need to be because she’ll lowkey be so chill and nice with her kids. there’s a saying that kids like pretty girls, and shizuku is definitely that. she’ll probably let her kids play on her phone or something, and i lowkey don’t think she’ll care if they take her glasses or smth.

7. machi. she’s responsible, don’t get me wrong, but i think she’ll be a bit too strict on her kid because she has trouble expressing any positive emotions. but when her kid runs away crying, she’ll instantly feel SO BAD and try her best to comfort the kid. she might make them a doll or some clothes or something.

8. bonolenov. we don’t really know too much about him, but he seems to care a lot about the troupe, so then it’s probably natural to assume that he’ll be the same with his children, if he ever has any, of course. he’ll probably teach them about their clan and what the holes in his clan’s body symbolizes.

9. shalnark. now, he’s a friendly and “sweet” guy, but i have a strong feeling that he wouldn’t like kids very much. they’re probably too dumb and pure for his liking, and he probably feels sort of uncomfortable when it comes to kids. if he finds out that someone is going to have his kids, then 90% of the time, shalnark will pull a ging freecss. the other 10% of the time, he’ll try his best.

10. uvogin. he’s the type of guy to want his child to learn how to fight and learn Nen as soon as possible, even if he has to initiate them to unlock their aura nodes. he’d lowkey drink beer one day and offer his kids some beer too, forgetting that they’re underage. but he loves his kids dearly though and would do anything for them, so that’s good enough.

11. feitan. oh this guy HATES KIDS. he finds them annoying and loud and stupid, and he gets the ick even when he LOOKS at a kid. if he ever had a kid, (which he probably wouldn’t but just hypothetically speaking) he’d have less of a reaction considering how that kid literally comes from inside of him, but he’d begrudgingly raise them as best he can…if it’s a son. if it’s a daughter, then i feel like he’ll be much softer and (try to be) more gentle.

12. illumi. pretty self explanatory tbh. he’ll love his kids dearly, but he’ll express it in toxic and unhealthy ways (he’ll also put them through terrible Zoldyck training)

13. hisoka. do NOT let this man near kids, even his own.

———

kalluto, kortopi - how do you expect them to have children when they’re literally children themselves?

[readychilledwine]

may i pretty please request a little cassian one shot where it’s a very out going reader who is NOT shy at all and never balks from anything unless it’s sex related and cassian absolutely loves undoing her once she gives in and making her all flustered and needy with his little taunts. LORD—

specifically from the smut prompt list:

“I know you’re not shy, so come here.” or like “Use your words, baby.” with a possible sprinkle of exhibitionism oh pls pls pls pls if this makes sense idk lol

Good Girl

Summary - Your birthday celebration at Rita's becomes Cassian's golden chance to end your 2 year shy and dry streak.

Warnings - voyeurism/exhibitionism, smut, fingering, oral, hair pulling, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, possession/ownership kink, dirty talk, cream pie

A/N - Happy Birthday, @sarawritestories! I was already finishing up this request, and your birthday actually made finishing this one shot easier. I wanted Cassian to have a special reason to fulfill one of reader's fantasies.

I hope you and my tumblr baby, @loneliestluvr enjoy this so so much 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

Cassian was watching you like a hawk tonight. Eyes glued on how your body danced in time to the music, to how Mor touched you as you two moved in time. He hated when you acted like this, so bold and brave in public. So okay with being touched by anyone but him. Talking a big bold game in your book club with Amren, Feyre, and Mor about wild sex you've never had.

You two had been mates for over 2 years, yet heated kisses and heavy petting was as far as you had let him go. It was driving him feral. Every time he had tried to get you into his bed or prepared to crawl on his knees to get into yours, it was something. “My cycle,” or “a headache,” or “Not a good body day,” whatever the fuck that meant. You were perfect to him. Curves in all the right places just begging and teasing him to touch. Cassian craved to be the reason your thighs clenched, to just once be the reason his shy girl screamed. He felt his lust growing as you and Mor approached the table, and the way your scarlet red birthday dress clinged to your figure, sparkling in the lights, made it worse. 

His mate, his love, looked like the picture perfect face of innocence in his color when he knew the nasty things you read about, talked about, and fantasized about was too much. “Come with me,” Cassian's alluring voice hit your ear so softly. You took his hand, following him with both of you carrying your drinks in hand. 

As Cassian pulled you further into Rita's, you began to blush. The lights had turned to a deep shade of red, doors locked and glowing to indicate they were occupied while some were open. Cassian smirked and pulled you into  his goal room, thankful that for once, it was empty. As if the Mother had intended for this night to go exactly as he wanted. He had you against the glass wall instantly when the door shut.

“Why are we in here,” your face began to flush his favorite shade of pink. Glaze tinted glass was the only thing separating you and Cassian from the rest of Rita's. The private room of the pleasure hall was reserved for only the most bold couples, showing just their silhouettes as they partook in activities you could hardly dream of. 

Cassian trapped you between him and that glass, towering over you, “Don't get shy on me now, baby.” His lips crashed on yours after the request, hot and heavy as he lifted you and forced your legs around his waist. You didn't know if it was the shots helping you relax, or your hope to have finally had birthday sex with Cassian, but here you were, moaning softly into his kiss as he pulled your hair back and began kissing down your throat and nipping softly. 

“Need you to be a good girl for me,” you shivered at his murmured words. “Going to fulfill that dirty little fantasy of yours. Give you the best birthday present." You couldn't help the soft moan and smile, knowing instantly what he meant.

This room was visible behind the bar. The silhouettes of the people inside dancing like shadows on that glass for all to see as they ordered their drinks. You had dreamed for years of being taken in this room and had made the mistake of drunkenly sharing that fact with Rhys and Azriel. 

Cassian began to untie the corset laces of your dress, suddenly annoyed by the back that the whole back was held together by the ribbon instead of him having to deal with just one small area. But Gods, it hugged you in the best places, showing your curves and dips in a way that had him drooling for you. He could hardly wait as it finally fell to the floor and you were bare beneath. He quickly set you on the lounging chair, knowing you were in view of everybody.

He'd never undressed himself so quickly, growling at the sight of your soft skin. Be wasted no time trailing his kisses lower. Worshiping each of your nipples until they came to perfect peaks. “Such a beautiful girl. My little exhibitionist.” He continued his path lower, nipping at your hips before kissing down your luscious thighs. He held eye contact with you then, as his kisses trailed up in the inside of your right thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

The question lit a fire inside of you, body now aching for more of him, to please him, “Yes, General.” He smirked as his title rolled off your tongue before licking up your core. The taste of you made him hum. And he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves slightly before circling and flicking it with his tongue. He repeated that after watching your head fall back and your body arch. 

He took his time, tasting every drop of you and rotating between sucking your clit and pushing his tongue as deep into you as he could. Your legs began to tremble below him after denying your body what you had craved for so long. You both knew it would be fast, hot, and passionate. You could worship each other at home, but here, here was built for sin, nothing more, nothing less.

Cassian began to slowly work a thick finger into you, stretching you open for him while his mouth focused on your swollen bundle of nerves. Your body felt as if you were burning alive as your stomach felt tighter and tighter. Moans and pants falling into breathless noises. Cassian listened with sick pride as his normally composed and eloquent mate began crumbling for him, because of him. 

He looked up and saw your pleading eyes, “What do you need? Use your words, baby.” He smirked as he went back to working your core, prepping you for your first time taking an Illyrian.

“More, please General, more,” you finally begged for him, eyes rolling back as your back arched hard. He worked a second finger into you, growling at how tight you were, at the thought of how good you'd feel around him. You cried out as his fingers finally found the spot he'd been looking for and curled into it. Moments passed like breaths, his name repeated over and over until you finally gave him what he wanted, your release. 

He knew other fae could hear you screaming his name in ecstasy, but he could not bring himself to care as he worked you down from the High. “That's my good girl,” he groaned as he pulled his mouth from you, licking his lips to savor every bit of your essence before pulling his fingers out and holding them to your mouth, “I want you to clean them. I want you to taste the nectar of a Goddess.”

The words hit exactly how he needed them and you became hazy eyed, licking and sucking his digits as an almost tingly feeling settled into your body. As soon as you were done, he flipped you over, pulling your hips in the air before you could try to protest or return any favors. Tonight was for you. For your pleasure, and he was just getting started.

You gasped as the feel of his cock lined up and sitting at your entrance, “Hold on to something, y/n.” He pushed in hard before you could respond, forcing you to plant both hands on the glass and keeping you trapped. “So fucking tight. The prettiest and most perfect pussy.” His pace became relentless quickly. Hand coming down on your ass before squeezing it hard. 

There were no words or noises coming from your mouth, just bliss making your jaw fall open in silence. You felt like you were drooling, drunk on him, on his feeling, on the way you could feel every vein and he pushed and pulled. But you weren't close enough for Cassian, and soon he grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to arch your back as he kept pounding into you. Your shoulders met his lower chest as his other hand moved to your front, brushing your clit slowly and teasingly. “Do you know how long I've waited,” his voice was low and deep, filled with his own pleasure. “Been dreaming about you going dumb on my cock for years and here you are, unable to even speak.”

You could only whimper in response as his hand moved from your hair to your throat, testing your limitations. “I could stay inside you forever,” his head fell back. “Love this body of yours forever. So fucking perfect. Every godsdamned inch of you.” The praise hit you, pushing you towards the edge again as his pace became sloppy. “Not going to last, baby. Cauldron this pussy. Best pussy I've ever had.”

That made you gasp, eyes lighting up in excitement, “Yeah? You love filling me, don't you?” His smirk grew at your response. “You love knowing my pussy is all yours, huh?”

He growled, a feral instinct waking up with those words. His fingers began to move fast in your clit, forcing words to turn to cursing, moans, and whimpers. “All fucking mine. My mate. My wife. My good girl. Mine,” the edge in his voice left no room for arguments, no way to fight and even try to claim otherwise if you had wanted. “Scream. Scream my name so every single soul in Velaris knows who you belong to.”

Your lip trembled as how close you were and you moaned his name, “Cassian-”

“Louder.”

His pace became impossibly quick and your mind became numb to anything but the pleasure of him hitting your gspot over and over while his fingers worked your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cassian!”

“Come. Come for your General.”

You came screaming his name so loudly you were sure all of Velaris did know who you belonged to. Your core began fluttering around Cassian, triggering is own orgasm. He pumped himself deep inside of you, releasing directly into your heat as he groaned your name. 

He squeezed your throat gently when you both came down before releasing it, allowing your sore body to rest as his head found the spot between your shoulder blades. The room was heavy in the scent of your shared bond as it hummed and burned brightly between the two of you. “I'm never going a day without you again,” Cassian panted before turning your head to kiss you softly. “Happy Birthday, y/n."

General Taglist:

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[rcksmith]

Sun and Water - Kaz Brekker

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGUISH. Lots of mention of post-traumatic disorder. Curse words. Mention of death. Blood. Slave market. Mention of murder. VERY EMOTIONAL. VERY SWEET.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This one was very emotional for me. I cried writing with my playlist on full blast. I hope you love it as much as I do.

💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

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

Ketterdam smelled of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was a dark place by birth that housed even darker people. Its soil was stained with blood and despair; of both Grisha and ordinary people. Their hiding places were for tormented souls who had long lost their humanity.

If you walked the wrong streets at night with an arrogant attitude, you would definitely not return alive. But if you turned south, and had a little money in your pocket, your feet would take you close to the huge, shiny, flashy casinos run by Pekka Rollins. You would pass clubs where the smell of beer mixed with cheating, and the laughter of drunks drowned out the screams of convicts across the boat harbor. The colors of these establishments ranged between red, orange and yellow, a vibrant explosion that, in such a funereal place, became infinitely more macabre.

If you were more adventurous, and had a little more money, you would pass by pleasure houses. With pink and purple facades, provocative titles and women perched in the windows, waving at any gentleman who smelled a fair amount of kruger, their chants insinuating and seductive. The silk pieces of these places waved like a Land in Sight flag for the lost and tormented men in that sea of stone that was called Ketterdam.

To less experienced - and novice - eyes, those places were just grotesque pieces that were part of a strange scenario. Just a bad city, without many mysteries or secrets. But Kaz Brekker, whose mother's name was Ketterdam, knew that these establishments were more profane than they first appear. Its sins were part of a long list of money laundering, human and arms trafficking, drug exports, a meeting point for commissioned murders and, deep in the corrupt heart of that city, the headquarters of the black market. He knew that Ketterdam was not just a land of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was the place where anyone could have absolutely everything for the right price.

And that's how he found you.

Kaz didn't like to remember that day. But it was engraved on his skin like a tattoo, like a hot iron. A damned, cursed reminder that despite his Herculean efforts to be the monster everyone whispered about, Kaz was still a man of flesh and warm blood. With a heart that writhed.

Something about that day in the past wasn't right. It was like a mysterious whisper in the breeze, an omen in the unknown eyes of the wanderers, a mistake in a painting that made his nerves itch. And Kaz Brekker always hated mysteries that he didn't know how to solve.

His cane banging against the thick, crooked stone floor in that even darker part of Ketterdam, the hem of his black coat swinging from side to side in the cold wind. He had 2,000 kruger in his pocket - the Crow Club's only money to pay employees, bribes, drinks and bills. He used and abused Ketterdam to offer everything at the right price, and now he was going to pay his debts to men who provided information, to locals who spiked the beer with water and sold it for a cheaper price, and to women who seduced targets and facilitated robberies. It was the only money he had.

He didn't have to look to the left, there was nothing for him there. He didn't have to wonder why people seemed to crowd closer to the curve of the last street. But, in a way that Brekker could never explain even in confidential whispers to his own soul, he turned that corner.

With his cane tapping on the ground, money in his pocket and responsibilities to fulfill, he approached, against all odds. Step by step, the air grew thicker, the invisible ropes tightened unjustifiably on the pulse of his neck, the ghostly sensation of the icy water approaching like the waves of the dark sea.

Those sensations were getting more confusing with each pump of blood. The physical consequences of his soul being shipwrecked at sea never came lightly, and this was a warning. A warning that Kaz Brekker should have turned around and walked away. While he still could.

The men around were euphoric. The women looked sadistic. And the racket of voices was too loud for him to be able to focus on a single line of conversation. The hands of men and women were raised and clutched money notes tightly, waving in the wind as if it were a flag, their sadistic, depravity-hungry eyes staring forward like predators in hunting season.

Perhaps in a parallel reality, Kaz would have followed every sign Ketterdam gave him to turn his back and leave. There's nothing for you here, Dirty Hands. Ketterdam needed demons and monsters to stay stand, it fed on trauma and anger to perpetuate the ‘everything for the right price’ market. People's chaos and hell were what maintained the local economy. Any possibility of redemption, peace and, worst of all, love, were severely condemned.

Go away, Bastard of the Barrel. Maybe Kaz would have exerted the steely control over his veins more tightly, maybe he would have listened to the city's singing and paid more attention to the sea that swelled its tide, and then there would have been a life in which he wouldn't have widened his eyes at the scene.. Go away.

The sea roared, the waves broke, the putrefying hands of the bodies drowned in the depths of the ocean grabbed his ankles with more ferocity, preventing, restricting, screaming that his place would forever be there with them in the dirt of the sea. But it was already too late. He looked at the reason for all the commotion. The sun fell on that girl's hair and it was as if the rays had also penetrated the deepest waters of that vast oceanic darkness, exorcising all the claws that retreated with infernal screams, letting go of his ankles as if they were burning.

It was like a ship's anchor being pulled up with extreme brutality, splashing water everywhere, pushing the dying pieces into the depths of hell, scaring birds in the air, and finally, finally, bringing his soul out into the warm air.

Kaz Brekker felt his entire body shake as if he had just died and been reincarnated, it was like an explosion in the darkest depths of his chest that made his blood warm again, his heart show that it was beating and his soul breathe.

The scene in front of him shouldn't have caused any commotion in his spirit. Ketterdam was not a good place, and it was home to even less good people. That open-air slave market was nothing new. It was repulsive, disgusting and disgusting, but not new. And it wasn't something Kaz got involved in. Everyone had problems with him, and he didn't play anyone's hero. Never.

Until now.

One of the girls was sitting on that improvised wooden stage, eyes extremely scared and that damn sun shining on her hair that shone like the heat of release that made him breathe for the first time. She was young, small as a rabbit, and her fur didn't belong on those rusty chains on her wrist. You.

That was all an lapse. A powerful lapse not only in his judgment, but in his long-tormented soul. He blinded himself for the first time since Pekka.

The deprivation of air, the burning of the claws sunk to the bottom of the cruel ocean, the ice that shook his bones and the smell of dead flesh swollen with rotten water had finally given him a respite.

A truce so portentous and so overwhelming that, for two blissful, desperate seconds, Kaz fucking Bekker felt fucking normal. He was breathing, for the love of the Saints. He felt the heat of the sun, his muscles were light, his heart was swollen and the corners of the world were as colorful as when he was 8 years old.

He felt Kaz Rietveld.

All because that girl was in his sight. As if her sight was a miracle to his torment. As if she were a curse to Ketterdam. No good feelings have a place here.

But it was already too late. That lapse made Kaz approach as if he no longer controlled his feet. It made his heart beat with blood that wasn't his. It made him take out the only money in his pocket and hold it up high as the biggest proposal. None of that insanity was coming from Brekker. But from Rietveld.

“Her.’’ he said in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.

Yes, Kaz didn't like to remember that day. Because it was confirmation that the boy he had tried so hard to keep dead and drowned in the sea was as alive as tangil. And that beating heart was his. Fucking hell. That lapse cost a lot; all the money the Crow Club made in that month. Kaz Brekker had countless dangerous people to pay and he had no idea what would do. But what irritated and infuriated Kaz the most was that, when he looked into the eyes of that girl as fragile as a rabbit, he didn't regret it.

Not at all. Not a bit. Even when he had every reason in the world to regret it.

He didn't regret taking you out of those horrible rags you wore and buying you a dress. He didn't regret bringing you to his quarters even when still had no fucking idea what he would do to you now.

What use would such a small, fragile and beautiful girl would have? You looked like a little rabbit. He made a fucking mistake, because now this little rabbit was looking at him with those big eyes full of emotions: fear, innocence, curiosity. Brekker hated it. But his soul was smiling.

''Don't worry. I won’t touch you’’ Kaz said that day. His words dripped with venom, disgust, and self-loathing. He constantly thought that his condition was a sarcastic and cruel joke from the Saints that Inej prayed so much to; doomed to never stand a touch, to always be a broken and pathetic bastard to the point of mortal weakness. This always aroused anger, hatred, and a thirst for revenge against Pekka.

But looking into your big eyes…he felt as if something very valuable had been brutally ripped from him long before Kaz understood what he wanted.

Inej was wrong. The Saints were not merciful. They were as fucking sadistic as the demons of Ketterdam.

--------

The days passed, and Kaz still had no idea what to do with you. Or how to pay his debt to so many people or how to replenish Crow Club drinks. He hid you from the rest of the dregs because he didn't want to and didn't know how to explain the situation. What would he say? Kaz Brekker never did anything without a plan. Everyone knew that. And your presence refuted ALL the certainties and theories that Kaz always had a motive.

Until one day, what he knew would happen happened; fate than those who do not pay powerful people. If he didn't have money, then he had to pay in blood. As it always would be in Ketterdam.

--------

The moon was paler than usual that autumn, sending icy golden rays across the dark city. The breeze smelled of sea air, smoke, sand and blood.

Kaz sat down in his writing chair, gasping as the thud made his broken ribs hurt. His teeth clenched tightly and dropped the broken cane to the floor, his blood on the silver raven combined with the dried blood around his face.

“Oh My God’’ the voice that Rietveld’s soul loved so much sounded, terrified and in panic.

You.

Kaz closed his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath that you had chosen to come in at that exact moment. It had been 2 weeks since you were here, with him, but your presence still made his hate the reactions and sensations he had.

Brekker couldn't have feelings. Ketterdam didn't accept that, it didn't tolerate that. And the proof of this was the bloody state he was in. Sentimentality is a weakness. He repeated to himself. But why then did his soul not regret anything when he saw you? Damn, he'd probably do it all over again.

“Get out of here’’ his voice was hoarser and lower than usual. And, when you did the opposite and took a step forward, Kaz looked at you warningly ‘’Now’’ Brekker could handle a beating, he'd had it his whole life. He could deal with broken ribs, with a bloody face, with a broken cane, with wounded pride. But he can't deal with the feeling that, when you looked at him, what hurt and tortured him more than anything else was the fact that he was robbed of your touch. He couldn't touch. And it never sparked anything but a fire of rage and revenge. Until now.

Kaz Brekker couldn't feel you. Not even if he fell to his knees on the floor and prayed to all the Saints. Not even if he sobbed asking for just one day of mercy. Just one day. Just a memory of how your skin felt beneath his hands. It had been more than a century since Brekker had touched another skin, warm skin. His was always cold, cadaverous, wet even when it was completely dry. And that was never a reason for despair. Until now.

He wanted to touch you more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to slide his fingers across your cheek more than he wanted to slide his hands across money notes. But the sensation would send him back to the waters of Ketterdam. Back to the sickening feeling of rotten flesh and death surrounding him, making his chest tighten and his vision blacken as that traumatic memory would drag him back into.

The Saints were a fucking sadist. “Please…’’ your voice was broken and completely tearful. Please…

That single word - that single word alone had the power to bring his gaze up to you. Your pleading voice, your eyes filled with pain, not for your own, but for his, the way you whispered as if you was about to crumble.  You looked more scared than the day he took you from the slave market. Kaz fought down the tightening of his chest, his throat closing in. Please. Oh. He wanted to throw caution in the wind. Just once. Only for you. He wanted to put his gloves aside, just once. Just to hold your face. The desire to beg the Saints on one knee came back with more force. ''No" Kaz looked at you, staring into your eyes, as he saw you step closer. He watched the silk green dress flow, the fabric he bought for you, and for some reason it made him ache more. Damn dress.

He kept his eyes locked on that green silk for longer than expected. His body was completely bruised, but his thoughts were just feeling envious of that dress. That dress was on your skin. Feeling something he could never feel. Lucky dress.

Kaz heard your sobs get louder. "I beg you’’ You were about to fall apart “let me help…’’ He didn't know the extensions of his own injuries, but the look in your eyes said they were serious. Perhaps there was more blood than he expected.

Yes. his soul, Rietveld, screamed. Screaming so loud his bones shook. Yes. Touch me, make the cold go away again. Take me out of this ocean one more time. Help me. Touch me! Make the hands of the corpses leave my neck. Touch me. Saints, this is the most unbearable thing in the world. Kaz had no idea how long it had been since he had heard a person sob for him, but your voice broke something in him like nothing else. Kaz could get stabbed and beaten and shot, but this—this was the one thing he couldn't bear. "No'' Yes!

But you seemed in tune with his soul. As it has always been since he first saw you. You seemed to see beyond Brekker facade. Your footsteps reached him like desperate birds, your beautiful eyes growing wider every moment you saw the details of his injuries.

He didn't move from the chair, even when he should have, even when you fell to your knees between his feet, looking at him with so much fear and panic that he felt his heart skip a beat. Damn organ.

Yes. You looked beyond Brekker, You looked at Rietveld. And no one ever looked at Rietveld. “I promise to be quick. Just let me clean up the blood. Let me sterilize the knife cuts.’’ Your voice had so much pain that Kaz thought you were the one who suffered the beating. Which was impossible. Because Kaz Brekker would never let anyone touch you. but he can't touch you either. Yes, his fucking fate.

He wondered if you were so shaken because of guilt. Did you know that the 12 men he owed money got together to beat him? Did you know that he just hadn't paid because he used all the money to buy you? That's why you were so sentimental? Because the guilt. Out of pity. But it was impossible, Kaz never said anything about it. Maybe he was just looking for reasons to justify the magnitude of your concern with something other than feelings of the heart. “Please… I can't- I can't see you like this.” Your voice took him out of his thoughts, realizing that no matter how much he screamed inside, his expression remained as hard as a stone.

“I’m scared that something irreversible could happen.’’ you were honest, exposing your heart because you knew he wouldn’t expose his “Please, the thought of you dying makes me scared.’’ Yes, you were scared…like a cute rabbit. His body was hurting too much to know which stab wound was deeper, which were more superficial and which caused you so much panic.

Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his chest, but for a reason completely different from the wounds and bruising that plagued his body. Kaz wanted to put his guard up and push you away, but the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes pleading for his consent as you raised your palm up to his battered and bloodied skin, that pleading tone - And that dress. The fucking dress he bought for you - was making him lose.

Kaz looked down at your face. His heart was burning. What am I doing? Your eyes, gazing up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks, you were breaking because of him, for him. And saints — he couldn't…Not when you looked that way. Not when every fiber of his being wanted you. Touch me. Make me come out of the sea. Make me breathe again Kaz closed his eyes, his breath sharp as he braced himself. A moment of hesitation before he finally speaks. "Quick."

It was another lapsus. The biggest mistake he could make. Ketterdam was again screaming in the background in the form of furious winds; that city did not allow pure emotions, redemptions and love.

You were so quick to get up and run to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and a desperate but relieved look. Your knees dropped to the floor once again between his feet, and your breathing was faster than it had ever been before.

You were going to touch him

It was a mistake. An absurd error. A sin and a profanation of the worst kind.

The tide of the icy ocean within him changed course, beginning to churn its waters and threatening to drown Kaz Brekker once again. The sensation was as if his skin was swelling from the cold waves, like a corpse that had been discarded at sea for centuries. And that wouldn't be far from the truth. Kaz Rietveld was shipwrecked in that ocean along with Jordie. Along with all the other unfortunate people in that damned city.

So why did he also feel Rietveld now more than ever? when you were about to touch him.

Kaz's soul stirred, perhaps in desperation, perhaps begging for release. Maybe for both things. The emotions were so strong that he felt like vomiting the salty sea water stuck in his lungs. Then he focused on one point: the smooth skin of your neck.

You were so nervous and desperate that he could see your vein pulsing, a few errant droplets of sweat running from behind your ear to your slender neck, making their tempting way, mocking Kaz for not being able to follow the same path with his fingers.

Would he be able to fool his demons if he made that journey with his mouth? Could it be that his tongue also carried his traumas?

The wet towel went over one of his cuts, and Kaz swore so loudly that it scared you. His fingers locked for a second in the chair, but your fear of him changing his mind was greater than your fear of his reactions. You pressed the towel again, and again, and moved from one wound to the next. Your movements were in automatic mode to want to take advantage of his permission as much as possible, to help as much as possible in a time limit that you didn't know.

The invisible clock chimed like a premonition.

With one hand, you used your trembling fingers to move a piece of his cut shirt to the side. And your and his skins brushed

Holy Mother of Saints. Kaz grunted, letting his head fall back and pressing his fingers into the wood of the chair's arms even more. He closed his eyes tightly. The avalanche of emotions raised a tisunami in his sea and crashed over him with such brutality that Kaz felt he might die again. And revive.

Your fingers brushed against his skin once again, and this time his chest exploded on a different note; as if the heat of the sun was fighting to rescue him from the bottom of the sea. Making its way through the petrifying waters like a ray of heat. Like a chance. A hope. Or as an illusion.

Kaz Brekker never cried. He came out of that ocean swearing revenge, like a ghost, a monster, the murderer of Rietveld. Vowing to be a knight of the apocalypse. But he was none of those things. Kaz was a man of flesh and blood. With a heart that bled every day, with a soul neglected and so massacred that it bordered on unrecognizability: but not total annihilation.

Kaz Brekker never cried. But Kaz Rietveld did.

Being touched, after so many years without even human contact, made Brekker want to vomit, scream, cut his hands off, drown himself with Jordie, blow Pekker's brains out. But it made Rietveld want to cry, to cry out to the saints for salvation, to beg that he could have just one good thing in life. Please. his soul tore in prayers. Please…let me have this moment…for the love of God, have mercy on me just now. Somehow, he didn't vomit, and his skin on his became more like being caressed by the sun. He squeezed his eyes closed even more and imagined himself on the roof of the Crow Club, beneath the midday sun of the height of summer.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your hands pressed bandages into his deep cuts.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your breathing was heavy and your fingers pushed the rest of his bloody shirt away.

You were the sun. Just it.

Kaz repeated that like a mantra. A prayer. A choir. An exorcism. But his midday sun at the height of summer was beginning to be clouded, the sea on the horizon was beginning to swell, and Jordie's voice was beginning to rise from the dead in the air. The second he couldn't take it anymore, you pulled his hands away. Brekker breathed a sigh of relief. Rietveld screamed in despair.

‘’You’re going to be fine’’ your voice was as shaky as his emotions.

Kaz couldn't open his eyes yet. Not now. Not at this moment and… the absence of touch gave way to the feeling of extremely warm lips touching one of his bandages for a second.

This removed him from his disabilities. Stunned and perplexed, Kaz opened his eyes immediately and tilted his head towards you the same second his your moved away.

If your touches had been the sun, that micro kiss had been the entire fire.

“My mother one day said that kissing the wound makes it heal faster.” Maybe you were holding on tooth and nail to all the things that guaranteed you that Kaz Brekker would survive that moment.

Maybe a kiss heals wounds faster... indeed. Kaz Brekker thought before a curve of a smile painted his lips.

[redrose10]

hi!! im happy to see you are taking requests, i really love your fics. Could we do Yoongi x f!reader, idol exes to lovers au and smut sentence 85? Thank you in advance!!♡♡

Thanks for requesting, I hope this is okay!

<Be My Valentine>

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, insecurities, light smut nothing really explicit, swearing

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Yoongi has no idea why he is here right now, standing in front of your door tightly gripping a bouquet of pink roses that are wilted beyond saving and missing a bunch of their leaves but at 9pm on Valentines Day it was the best he could do.

He has no idea why he left his own date, a nice woman, but just someone he knew he wouldn’t have a connection with so he ended it early, and came to your place.

He has no idea why the thought of you crying behind that door has his heart breaking into a million pieces.

He has no idea why he has the urge to hunt down this guy he’s never even met and make him pay for what he did to you because what kind of a monster breaks up with someone on Valentines Day.

He has no idea why he’s having all of these feelings because as of June of last year you were no long his to worry about.

Buying you flowers is no longer on his to do list.

He should be worrying about his own dating life instead of pushing it aside for you.

Your tears are no longer his responsibility to wipe away.

And he definitely should not be considering murdering a stranger for you (he really wouldn’t, but the thought it still there).

But when he ran into your best friend at the restaurant earlier this evening and she spilled all the details about this guy you had been dating for a few months and how he broke up with you this morning over a text message of all things, something about not believing in a holiday built on capitalism and not wanting to spend the money to get laid when you should be doing that anyways, Yoongi knew he had to see you because even if you still hate him he never stopped loving you.

“Yoongi I can’t do this any more.”, you cried into your hands. “Y/N, you know I would never cheat on you…ever.”, he spat back getting annoyed at having this conversation yet again. “What’s the excuse this time? Hmmm? Are you producing a song for her? She just needed your opinion on something? She was cold and you just brought her in your studio for warmth?” He rolled his eyes at your attitude.

An anonymous person had sent you some photos of Yoongi welcoming a woman into his studio. While normally you would be annoyed by that you still understood that it was part of his job and you would have moved on.

But at the time he was on his military leave so while he was allowed to work on his own music in his free time he wasn’t allowed to be helping or “working” with anyone else.

“Y/N, she’s a makeup artist with the company. She found a ring that belonged to Jimin when they were doing their yearly clean out. She knew we were going to meet up after Jin’s discharge so she asked me to give it to him.”

“She couldn’t give it to him herself? She couldn’t have given it to someone else who works for the company? She could’ve just left it there for him to find another day. Why was it you?”, you questioned.

Yoongi ran his hands over his face in frustration, “It was an expensive ring. She didn’t want to just leave it there. She was on her way to meet her BOYFRIEND at a restaurant by the studio and asked if she could stop by and drop it off real quick and I said yes. She was in my studio for a total of like ten seconds.”

“Why would they even send me this then?”,you hissed shoving the phone in his face.

“Because they’re shit starters.”, he scoffed, “You know this. They look for any reason to cause drama.”

“I’m done Yoongi.”, you said shaking your head, “I can’t take it any more. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with this.”

At the time he was so angry and so hurt that you didn’t trust him after all these years that he didn’t even try to stop you as he watched you pack your bags and walk out the door. Looking back he wished he would’ve fought, even got down in his hands and knees and begged if he had to. His life has been hell since you left.

Maybe that’s why he was standing in front of your door this late at night.

He knocked realizing for the first time just how much his hands were shaking. A little smile crept onto his face thinking about the day he picked you up for your first date. Much like today he was so nervous he was shaking, so nauseous he hadn’t eaten or drank anything all day. He had flowers then too, although they were significantly nicer and cost half as much. When you opened the door that night his heart fluttered with how beautiful you were.

But today when you opened the door his heart had a different reaction and not in a good way. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your nose looked sore liked you’d blown it a hundred times.

“Yoongi?”, you sniffled, “What are you doing here?”

The brokenness in your voice shattered him.

“I uh I got you flowers.”, he said watching you look over the sad bouquet. Maybe he should’ve paid for the overpriced teddy bear he thought.

“Thank you. But why?”, you asked brows furrowed.

“I wanted to ask you to be my Valentine”, he shrugged.

When you didn’t say anything else he added, “And I heard about what happened earlier and I just thought I’d stop by and make sure you were okay. That was pretty shitty what he did to you.”

“Yeah he’s a real dick.”, you grumbled.

“Well I hope his dick falls off.”, Yoongi added hoping to see you smile and you did give a little one and it as just as beautiful as ever.

“Umm I just got a pizza delivered if you want some.”, you offered.

The truth was he was full beyond belief after stuffing himself with garlic bread to avoid conversation with his date, but he’d eat a full seven course meal right now if you asked him to so he nodded and entered your apartment.

“Sorry it’s not much.”, you gestured around before offering him a drink and leading him to the living room.

“No it’s perfect. It suits you.”, he said noticing a blush form on your cheeks.

The two of you talked and updated each other on what had happened since that evening in June. Yoongi loved hearing about your job and your friends. He even loved the rant you went on about how your coworker Mia was dating your coworker Han, but Han was best friends with Yongsu who was Mia’s sisters ex and it was a big mess apparently. He didn’t know who any of these people were nor did he care. He just loved hearing your voice and feeling like he was living in the past again. The two of you eating and talking and laughing like nothing had happened.

Then you abruptly cleared your throat before getting quiet. He worried that you had reminded yourself of the earlier events and became sad again or maybe it suddenly hit you that you were spending your Valentines with your ex, but you surprised him instead.

“Since you’re here Yoongi I want to apologize for how things ended. I was upset and angry and I know I should’ve trusted you, but I was just tired of getting messages like that all the time and feeling like I had no choice but to believe you. I was frustrated because I always felt hurt and sad and insecure. I should have listened from the start.”, you sighed afterwards like a weight had been lifted from you.

“What made you finally believe me?”

“Well…I think I realized that I always believed you because I knew deep down that you would never cheat on me. I also….I heard from Namjoon. He reached out to me and verified everything and even gave me the makeup artist number if I wanted to contact her, but I never called her because I realized I didn’t need to. I wanted to call you then, but I was so embarrassed and ashamed of how I reacted that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Yoongi noticed the slight shake in your shoulders so he pulled you in close to him for a hug before you could start crying again, “Y/N you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything. The amount of bullshit you had to put up with because of me was enough to make anyone snap eventually. I’m ashamed I didn’t fight for you, try and stop your from leaving that night. I’ve regretted it ever since because I love you so much Y/N.”

Yoongi hoped you couldn’t feel his heart beating a million beats a minute in his chest. Internally he scolded himself for getting so worked up until you looked up at him with wide teary eyes. “I love you too.”, you whispered.

And he felt a rush of relief. He knew things wouldn’t snap back to normal instantly, but for the first time in months the sense of dread was lifted and he felt hopeful, excited about the future even.

“Can I kiss you?”, he found himself asking out of nowhere.

You nodded pulling him in and the kiss sent him into a state of bliss. He felt like he was whole again like he was finally on the path to happiness.

One little kiss turned into two and then into three. Then his hands started roaming your body touching all the spots that got you going. He had me memorized everything about you and it was like you never left.

Gently he picked you and carried you to your bedroom laying you down on the lavender colored comforter. His brain had to fight his body for control as he pulled back to check with you, “We can stop if you want. We don’t have to go any further. We’ll take it slow.”

“No I…I want this. I missed you Yoongi.”, you smiled.

It was like all of his senses had imploded all at once.

“I missed you too.”, he said gently lifting up the tshirt you were wearing revealing nothing underneath. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as you helped him out of his layers of clothing as well.

When it came to sex Yoongi was normally a pretty dominating person. He always made sure his partner was fully satisfied, but he was usually a man on a mission.

But he wanted to take his time with you tonight. He didn’t want you thinking he was only here to use your misfortune and heartbreak as a way to get his dick wet. He wanted to savor every little sound you made as you writhed and wiggled underneath him. He needed to make you feel good and wanted .

He checked with you one more time and when he finally entered you he stilled. Not only because he was afraid of loosing it and finishing too soon, but also because he wanted to bask in the feeling. The feeling he never thought he’d have again. One he could never find elsewhere.

“Please move Yoongi.”, you whined clenching around him. “Sorry baby.”, he chuckled not realizing his daydream was taking longer than anticipated.

Slowly he snapped his hips back and forth over and over. It was at an almost agonizingly slow pace, but he loved the feeling. He almost felt selfish for how gentle and soft he was being with you because he just wanted to relish in the euphoria for his own needs.

As his head hung watching himself disappear inside you over and over he felt you card your fingers through his hair. He looked up to meet your gaze.

“Why are you being so gentle with me? I like it when you’re rough.”, you asked making his movements stall. You looked so sweet and so innocent like you didn’t just basically ask him to wreck you.

“Are you sure?”, he questioned.

“Yes Yoongi, please. Please fuck me fast and rough.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled out and flipped you over onto your stomach before pulling you up onto your knees and pushing your face down into the bedding. He gave your ass a hard smack before entering you again and swiftly achieving a vigorous pace.

As your mouth was releasing a litany of curse words mixed with moans and whimpers and begging for more he grabbed onto your hips at a near bruising strength and smirked, “If rough is what my baby wants then rough is what she’s gonna get.”

[kimmie2me]

HEYYY I LUV UR POSTS LIKE HELLO?!?! also im sure u know abt the bakugo hc with him with him having hearing aids and is it ok of u make like a fic with him signing nasty stuff to reader cuz he can and nobody around them fully learned sign language yet? PLS AND THANK U!!! 💕💕💕

first of all, THANK YOU!! ILYSM!! second, i am BACK!!!! exams went well, i guess. i didnt PASS or FAIL, but whatever.. third, I LOVE THIS IDEA HAHAHHA!!! here is, what I think, a great welcoming back gift to give u all ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ (ignore that Kaminari's text is blue..there's no yellow. ALSO, mina is NAWT taking pink. thats OUR color now.)

Of Silence and Secrets

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Reader

…..

Bakugou Katsuki hated his hearing aids.

Hated how they fit, hated how they felt, and most of all, hated what they represented. Weakness. A crack in the armor he’d spent his entire life forging. When the ringing in his ears started as a brat in middle school, he didn’t think much of it. Just the fallout from a quirk-boosted explosion, nothing he couldn’t handle.

Years passed. The ringing grew into dull hums, muffled voices, and missed sounds. A villain’s retreating taunt he couldn’t catch. The screech of a car he didn’t hear. Kirishima shouting his name three times before Bakugou finally turned around, snarling, “What the hell do you want!?” while Kirishima just looked… worried.

His hearing aids were a damn nuisance. At least, that’s what he told himself every single day.

They whined if someone got too close, buzzed when he adjusted them wrong, and gods forbid he so much as grazed them during a fight—one hard knock, and they’d go flying. He could hear again, sure, but better hearing came at a price: realizing just how insufferably loud the world actually was. Katsuki had spent months in denial, refusing to accept that his ears, like the rest of his high-octane life, couldn’t keep up with him.

The ringing had started in his late teens, growing louder until it followed him everywhere. He blamed it on the explosions, the debris, the constant yelling—but really, he knew. His mom did too, though she’d spared him the lecture until the day Kirishima cornered him in his agency office with a sheepish grin and her voice on speakerphone.

“Katsuki.” The way she said his name—sharp, biting, and so unlike her usual bark of “Oi, you brat!”—made his stomach drop. “What if somethin’ happens? What if you miss an evac order or—hell—a cry for help? Hah? What then?”

“… Tch.” He had scowled so hard it hurt. “Fine. I’ll get the damn things.”

The intervention was humiliating, but the worst part? She was right. He hated that more than anything.

That was the first night he slept with the hearing aids sitting on the nightstand. He’d finally picked them up after a year of constant badgering—from his mom, Kirishima, hell, even that damn Deku. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear better—it was the admission that killed him.

But now? Now the stupid things were glued to him. Mostly.

The tech was incredible, of course. Damn nerds at Hero Support had outdone themselves. The hearing aids didn’t just amplify sound; they filtered it, isolating voices during chaos and syncing with comm units. They were waterproof, explosion-proof—Bakugou-proof. Allegedly.

But they weren’t indestructible. He’d broken five pairs in six months. Kaminari had nicknamed him “Break-aid” after the third replacement. Bakugou threatened to shove them where the sun didn’t shine.

And yet… they worked. Too well.

He could hear the scratch of pens during hero conferences, the obnoxious tapping of Kaminari’s foot against the table, the quiet sigh of his own breath. The worst part? The incessant talking. It was everywhere. Fans, reporters, civilians—people who thought their every word needed an audience.

Thankfully, he’d discovered the mute button.

The first time he used it, Kaminari was midway through a rant about his latest gadget. Bakugou, in a rare moment of self-control, didn’t yell. He just flicked the switch, leaned back in his chair, and smirked as Kaminari kept babbling. No explosions, no shouting, just blissful silence.

But there were downsides.

Combat was a nightmare when they broke. Shouting “HUH!?” every five seconds wasn’t exactly strategic. That’s when he decided to learn sign language. Not because anyone suggested it—hell no. But because he’d be damned if he relied on a gadget to do his job.

The process was… frustrating. Hands clumsy, movements stiff. Kirishima tried to help, but his signs were barely legible. Kaminari? Useless. Sero was too busy laughing to be much better or resorted to typing in the Notes app on his phone when it was pretty serious. Deku? That nerd had picked it up in a week, naturally.

But you? You made it bearable.

“Like this,” you’d said, your fingers forming a perfect sign. “Thumb tucked in.”

Bakugou grumbled, but copied you.

“Good. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it, ’Suki?”

Your patience annoyed him almost as much as it calmed him. And somehow, over weeks of practice, his stiff movements turned fluid. He’d never admit it, but he liked having this… language, this connection, with you.

And then he realized something else.

You understood him. Not just the signs, but him. The sharpness he couldn’t quite soften, the quiet gratitude he couldn’t voice. And better yet? No one else around him could understand a damn thing he was saying.

It started innocently enough—well, innocent by his standards.

“Bored out of my goddamn mind,” he’d signed at you during a hero conference.

You’d smirked and replied, “Same.”

But then, Bakugou being Bakugou, had an epiphany: he could sign anything.

The first time he tried it, you were sitting across from him at a formal hero banquet. The room was filled with pro heroes, reporters, and politicians. Everyone was dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and pretending the world wasn’t on fire outside.

Bakugou caught your eye and, with the most deadpan expression, signed: Wanna fuck?

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly knocked your glass over. You choked, coughing into your hand, and when someone asked if you were okay, you waved them off, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, sipping his water like he hadn’t just propositioned you in a room full of Japan’s elite.

…..

It got worse.

During a meeting with the Hero Public Safety Commission, while a bureaucrat droned on about policy changes, Bakugou’s hands moved under the table. He made sure you were looking before signing: I’d rather have you ride me than sit here with these extras.

You froze mid-note, the pen slipping from your fingers. Your face burned as you ducked your head, pretending to scribble something in your notebook. Across the room, Kirishima noticed your sudden movement.

“Hey, you good?” he whispered.

“Fine!” you squeaked, glaring at Bakugou.

He tilted his head, feigning confusion, then casually leaned back in his chair. He looked so smug you wanted to scream.

At a press conference, surrounded by the press corps, TV cameras, and the elite of the hero world, Bakugou stood stiffly at the podium, bored out of his skull. Beside him, you shuffled the note cards you’d prepared, doing your best to stay focused on Midoriya’s answer to a question about villain reform strategies.

Bakugou glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how focused you looked. That only made the idea pop into his head faster. He adjusted his stance, one hand casually coming up to rub his neck as the other signed with precision:

I’d fuck you so hard over this podium, the microphones would short out.

Your brain stalled like a computer blue-screening. The cards slipped from your hands, scattering onto the stage floor. You froze in horror as a sea of reporters looked up from their notebooks.

Midoriya, ever the anxious public speaker, stopped mid-sentence. “Uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Just... clumsy!” you stammered, dropping to your knees to collect the cards. You didn’t dare look at Bakugou, whose hand came up to his mouth as though stifling a yawn—but you knew he was hiding a smirk.

To make things worse, while you scrambled on the floor, he signed again, deliberately slower so you couldn’t miss it:

Would’ve pulled your hair too, just to hear you scream.

Your face burned so hot you were sure you’d melt through the stage.

It didn’t stop there.

At the next agency-wide meeting, Bakugou sat across from you in the conference room, arms crossed as a pro-hero you couldn't bother to listen to went on and on about new combat protocols. The room was packed with pro heroes, all seated shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bakugou, who’d already tuned out after the first ten minutes, caught your gaze and raised an eyebrow. Before you could react, his hands moved subtly under the table:

I’d eat you out on this table, right in front of everyone, and make sure you couldn’t stay quiet.

The coffee cup in your hand slipped, splashing onto your notes. You cursed under your breath, grabbing napkins to clean the mess.

Kirishima, sitting beside you, leaned over. “Whoa, you okay? You’ve been jumpy lately.”

You forced a smile, not daring to look at Bakugou, whose expression remained infuriatingly neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

It became a game to him.

While Kirishima nodded and went back to his notes, Bakugou adjusted in his chair and signed again:

Bet you’d cry if I used my mouth the way I’m thinking. Probably beg me to stop—but you wouldn’t really mean it.

You slammed your pen down so hard it startled Kaminari, who glanced over with a confused look.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, refusing to look up.

Across the table, Bakugou leaned back, feigning boredom, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

It escalated during a casual outing with the crew.

Everyone had gathered at a bustling ramen joint after a long patrol, crowding into a booth that was way too small for so many people. Bakugou sat to your right, thigh pressed against yours under the table. As the conversation flowed around him, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and casually started eating.

Then, as Mina told a story about her latest villain takedown, he turned his head slightly toward you and signed with one hand:

The things I’d do to you under this table would make you scream so loud they’d kick us out.

You froze, chopsticks hovering mid-air. He didn’t even blink, slurping his noodles like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal nuke into your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mina asked, noticing your deer-in-headlights expression.

“Uh… spicy broth,” you choked out, grabbing your water and gulping it down.

Bakugou, still chewing, glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and added another one for good measure:

Bet I could make you cum without anyone noticing. Wanna test that theory?

You almost choked on your drink, coughing so hard Kirishima patted your back in concern.

At a charity event, he raised the bar again.

The ballroom was filled with reporters, politicians, and wealthy donors, all eager to mingle with Japan’s most famous heroes. Bakugou hated these events with a burning passion, but at least you were there to make it tolerable.

You stood beside him, chatting politely with a group of businessmen, when you felt his gaze on you. Slowly, you turned your head, already dreading what was coming.

He didn’t disappoint. With the straightest face you’d ever seen, he signed:

You’d look so much better on your knees, with my cock down your throat, than in that dress.

Your hand shot out, nearly spilling your champagne as you fumbled to keep your composure. The Pro Hero you were speaking to paused mid-sentence, giving you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“I—I’m fine,” you stuttered, setting the glass down before you could break it.

Bakugou tilted his head innocently, signing again:

Bet you’d love it if I bent you over that balcony upstairs. Bet you’d be dripping by the time I was done.

Your jaw dropped, and you 'accidentally' kicked his shin under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

It wasn’t just formal settings, either. Bakugou would strike anywhere.

During a team training session, you were sparring with Kaminari while Bakugou watched from the sidelines. When you finally landed a clean hit, knocking Kaminari flat on his ass, Bakugou clapped slowly, catching your attention.

Wanna know what else you could knock flat? Me. On my back. With you riding me till I forget my own goddamn name.

Your sparring stance faltered, and Kaminari took the opportunity to trip you.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, offering a hand to help you up.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, shooting a glare at Bakugou, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

The worst of all came during a live broadcast.

The Hero Public Safety Commission had organized a televised Q&A with Japan’s top heroes. You sat between Bakugou and Midoriya, fielding questions from both the moderator and the live audience. Bakugou had been unusually quiet for most of the event, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

But then, while the moderator addressed Midoriya, Bakugou caught your attention.

His hands moved lazily, almost imperceptibly, as he signed:

After this, I’m gonna pin you to the wall in the dressing room and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of here straight.

Your eyes widened, and you immediately looked away, heart hammering in your chest.

“And what about you?” the moderator asked, pulling your attention back to the present.

“I—I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” you stammered, cheeks flaming.

Beside you, Bakugou leaned back in his chair, smirking as the moderator repeated the question. His hands shifted again, just enough for you to catch his next message:

If you blush any harder, they’re gonna think you’re into this.

You resisted the urge to scream.

Because, for Bakugou, nothing was funnier than watching you squirm. And knowing you were the only one who could decode his filthy little secrets? That was just the icing on the cake.

…..

Over time, the signing became a secret game. A language only the two of you shared, even if it was insanely one sided. In battle, it was strategic—efficient, silent communication when words couldn’t cut through the noise. Off the field? It was something else entirely.

After a particularly grueling patrol, Bakugou flopped onto the couch beside you, tugging his hearing aids out and tossing them onto the table.

“Another shitty day,” he muttered.

You hummed in agreement, leaning against him.

Without thinking, he signed: You’re the only thing that doesn’t piss me off.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothin’, Cupcake. Just watch the TV..”

And for once, you didn’t press.

Because sometimes, silence said enough.

[queenofmorningstar]

See You in Hell

Lucifer x f! Overlord Reader

Summary: Is there a perfect moment to say I love you? 💕

CW: MDNI, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v

Word Count: 5.4K

Notes: Various posts by lovely @willoryn have inspired this: Post 1, Post 2, Post 3

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8| Part 9| Part 10

CHAPTER SIX

It had been a few months.

A few blissful, dizzying, almost-too-good-to-be-true months since that starlit night under your sky. And it had been wonderful. Brilliant. Steady.

The kind of unease that whispered in his ear when things were going too well, warning that surely something was about to break.

Maybe it was something he did. Maybe he had gotten too excited. Maybe he had overwhelmed you again. Maybe he was just too much, like always.

He shook his head and tugged at the cuffs of his crimson coat, trying to banish the thought. It wasn’t like you had pulled away. Just… your time.

Still. It was enough to seed the panic again, gnawing quietly beneath his ribs.

Lately, you’d been so busy. Overlord meetings, territory disputes, truce discussions.

Lucifer understood. But understanding didn’t make it sting any less when you left dinner halfway to take a call. Or when you left his room before breakfast. Or when you didn't reply to his five consecutive messages…She’s just busy, he told himself.

“Daaaamn, you look like someone ran over your favorite duck,” came Angel’s voice from the lobby.

Lucifer blinked, startled out of his thoughts.

At the bar, Angel Dust was already sipping some pink and suspiciously glowing cocktail, legs crossed and head tilted with a teasing smirk. Beside him, Husk grunted into his whiskey.

“Come on, daddy,” Angel patted the seat beside him. “You need a drink.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Lucifer wandered over and took the seat next to Angel, looking somehow simultaneously dramatic and deflated.

Angel passed him a drink. “Sooo…what’s on your mind?.”

Lucifer gave a soft laugh. “I was just thinking…”

“About her?” Husk asked flatly.

Lucifer blinked. “...You knew?”

Angel snorted. “Knew? Babe, the way you look at her like she hung the stars—anyone with eyes knew you were crushing.”

Lucifer flushed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well… actually… we’ve been… seeing each other. For a few months.”

Both Angel and Husk paused mid-sip. Angel slowly set his glass down. “Wait—what?”

Lucifer looked vaguely guilty. “We’re keeping it under wraps for now.”

Angel leaned in, wide-eyed. “Okay, wait, wait. So you’re together. Officially. And yet you look like someone kicked you in the ass.”

Lucifer sighed heavily, fingers curling around his glass. “It’s just… she’s been so busy lately… I barely see her anymore.”

“So talk to her?” Husk offered, already pouring himself another drink.

“I want to,” Lucifer said quickly. “But then I wonder—what if it’s me? What if I said something wrong? Did something wrong?”

Angel laughed. “Look, if she didn’t want all of this,” he gestured vaguely at Lucifer, “she wouldn’t have dated you in the first place. So, what’s really bothering you?”

Lucifer hesitated. Then he looked down at his drink and muttered, barely above a whisper, “I want to tell her I love her.”

Angel froze. “Wait—what?”

Lucifer buried his face in one hand, groaning. “I do, Angel. I’ve never felt like this before. She makes me want to dream again. Laugh. Be better.”

Husk gave a low whistle. “Damn.”

“But…” Lucifer looked up, brows drawn together, “what if it’s too soon? What if I scare her off? What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin everything?”

Angel softened, watching him more seriously now. Angel shrugged. “Look, worst-case? Maybe she’s not ready to say it back yet. That don’t mean she doesn’t care. It just means she’s not at the same point. But from what I’ve seen? She’s crazy about you. And you’re both just dumb enough to assume the worst instead of talking.”

Lucifer let out a soft breath, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I hate that you’re right.”

Angel smirked. “Everyone does.”

*

You were barely a block away from the hotel when your phone buzzed.

Angel: Your man’s drunk off his royal ass. Come get ya king bef he starts cryin again.

You frowned, reading the message twice, and quickened your pace. Lucifer? Drunk? That was rare. 

By the time you reached the Hazbin Hotel and pushed through the double doors, your eyes immediately locked onto the bar.

Lucifer was slumped over the counter. Angel sat beside him, legs crossed, sipping a cocktail like this was all completely normal. Husk leaned against the counter, looking like he’d aged a century in the last hour.

You stormed across the lobby. “Angel,” you said sharply. “What the hell happened?”

Angel raised both hands. “Hey hey, don’t shoot the messenger. He came down all mopey, we offered him a drink to loosen up and—”

“He never stopped,” Husk finished gruffly.

You looked down at Lucifer, who blinked up at you slowly. 

Lucifer looked up at you, and there was something so soft in his expression it made your chest ache. “You look…” he whispered, his voice slow and heavy with intoxication, “more pretty than usual today.”

You blinked. “Lucifer—”

And then he leaned forward and pressed the sloppiest, warmest, drunkest kiss to your lips.

It was messy and slow. The kiss lingered only a moment before he broke away, giving you a dopey smile… and promptly slumped forward, head resting heavily against your shoulder with a sigh of relief like he’d finally come home.

Your arms tightened around him instinctively, heart stuttering in your chest.

Angel let out a low whistle. “Okaaaay. That’s new.”

“Shut it,” you mumbled, smoothing Lucifer’s hair as he nuzzled into your collarbone.

Husk raised an eyebrow. “You good? Want help dragging his ass upstairs?”

“No. I’ve got him,” you said softly.

The halls were quiet as you carried him in your arms. His head rested against your chest, arms loosely looped around your neck, his words slurring gently into the soft space between your collarbone and heart.

“I missed you…” he mumbled, barely louder than a breath.

You looked down at him, at the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

But he shook his head weakly, as if your presence wasn’t quite enough to fill the ache inside him. His arms tightened slightly around your neck.

“No,” he murmured. “You’ll leave. When the morning comes, you’ll be gone. Just like before.”

You reached his door and pushed it open with a flick of your fingers, carrying him into the room you knew so well now—the scattered blueprints, the strange half-built inventions, the familiar sweet apple wine scent. Your things were added in his place as well.

You gently lay him on the bed, brushing his hair out of his eyes, smoothing the frown creasing his brows.

“I won’t,” you promised, but he caught your wrist before you could pull away.

His crimson eyes fluttered half open—hazy, unfocused, but desperate.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay. Please. Just this once.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, kneeling beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve been so… caught up. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

Your heart clenched. You lowered yourself beside him, one arm wrapped gently around his torso. His body instantly relaxed against yours like it had been waiting for this, craving it.

“I’ll be here,” you said, resting your forehead to his. “When the morning comes, you’ll find me right next to you. I promise.”

He exhaled, deep and shuddering, and whispered something into your hair that sounded like “thank you.”

Moments later, he drifted into sleep, one arm curled around your waist, holding on like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.

*

You woke to the sound of a strangled breath.

The room was still bathed in dim golden light—one of the star-projection globes you’d gifted him still softly spun in the corner, bathing the walls with low light. Beside you, Lucifer tossed and turned, his brow furrowed, sweat dotting his forehead. His hands twitched, reaching out for something unseen, his lips murmuring fractured, broken things.

“No... don’t go…don’t—please…”

“Lucifer?” you whispered, gently placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t wake. 

You sat up, heart tightening. “Lucifer—wake up.”

You shook him softly at first, then a little firmer.

His eyes snapped open. He gasped as if drowning, chest heaving. For one frantic moment, he didn’t register where he was. Then he saw you—your worried face above him, your hand on his shoulder, your voice steady and gentle.

He didn’t say a word. He sat up and immediately wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burying his face into your lap like he needed to anchor himself to the reality of your presence. His grip was strong, trembling slightly.

“Was it bad?” you asked softly, your fingers slipping into his hair, brushing it back as he took deep, slow breaths against your thighs.

“I thought you were gone,” he whispered, voice thick and ragged with sleep and emotion. “That you left… or they took you… I couldn’t stop it…”

Your hand slowed, caressing the nape of his neck.

“You’re safe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Wanting to lift the heaviness lingering in the space between you, you cleared your throat and began, “You know, one of my spies got stuck in his own disguise today.”

Lucifer stirred slightly. “Hmm?”

“He was posing as a coat rack in a gambling den,” you chuckled softly, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Someone actually hung their coat and fedora on him. He didn’t dare move for five hours. Thought he’d blow his cover.”

Lucifer gave a breathy, sleepy laugh, eyes still half-lidded. “A coat rack?”

“Mm-hmm. I found him cursing under his breath and shaking like a leaf. Said his back will never recover. I gave him a medal.”

Lucifer grinned, full and genuine now. “Deserved. Five hours of dedication to espionage? He should be knighted.”

“You’re the king,” you teased. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing up at you. “Maybe I will.”

Then he grew quiet, and you noticed that thoughtful, nervous furrow returning to his brow. “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said quietly, carefully, like the words carried weight he wasn’t sure he could hold.

You blinked, sitting up straighter. “That’s a coincidence,” you replied. “So do I.”

Lucifer hesitated. “You first?”

You shook your head with an affectionate grin. “No, you.”

He exhaled a small laugh, and it took him a second to gather his courage. Then, still half curled beside you, he gently reached for your hand. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he brought it to his lips first, brushing a reverent kiss across your knuckles before resting your entwined hands between you.

“I’ve... been thinking about this for a while,” Lucifer murmured, his eyes searching yours. “And I wanted to wait for the right time, but—I don’t think there’s ever a perfect moment, is there?”

You smiled but said nothing, sensing the weight of what he was building toward. He leaned a little closer, still holding your hand like a lifeline. “I love you.”

The words were barely above a whisper. You froze. Not because you didn’t feel it, not because it was unexpected but because of the honesty in his voice. 

Seeing your silence, Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly, panic trickling in. “I—I know that’s a lot,” he said quickly trying to backpedal. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know I—”

“Only a fool wouldn’t love you,” you interrupted softly.

His mouth parted slightly, stunned. You reached for him, your hand curling gently at the nape of his neck. “And I,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, “am no fool.”

Then you kissed him.

There was no hesitation this time. His lips were warm, slow at first—tasting, relishing but as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss, he melted into you.

You felt his hand settle at your waist, the other brushing your cheek as if in awe of you, of the fact that this was real. His devotion poured into the kiss, reverent and unhurried.

When you pulled away for breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, both of you flushed and breathless.

Then, he tilted his head and smiled. “You said you had something to tell me too.”

You sat straighter, looking at his fingers wrapped around yours. “I did,” you murmured.

Lucifer’s eyes were still on your face, patient and full of warmth.

“I’ve been preparing my territory for the next extermination,” you said finally.

The words dropped like a stone in still water. Lucifer blinked once. So that's why you've been busy. His smile faltered, barely, like a candle flickering in a sudden gust. 

He didn’t say anything right away, and you rushed forward before the silence could grow teeth. “I know it’s... a heavy topic,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “And I know I might be overstepping, or asking too much—but… do you really think it still serves a purpose?”

You saw the shift in his eyes. “I’m sorry to ask this of you,” you added, lowering your head slightly. “It’s not fair of me, I know—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, taking your hand more firmly. “Don’t be sorry to ask for anything from me. Tell me what you've in mind, darling.”

You spoke calmly, though your heart beat loud and firm in your chest. “There are sinners who want to live. Not to destroy, not to hurt. Just… live. Love, heal, try again. And Heaven comes down and tears that away.”

Lucifer didn’t interrupt.

“They may be flawed, broken even,” you said. “But so are most people. That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. That doesn’t mean their existence should be erased.”

His fingers tightened briefly around yours.

You met his gaze. “I’m not saying redemption is for everyone. I’m saying the right to live shouldn’t be decided by those who never understood us in the first place.”

Lucifer exhaled slowly, tilting his head. “I agree,” he said, voice soft but edged. “More than you know, I do. But you’re looking through a lens. I’ve seen the worst of what Hell holds. There are souls here who aren’t just lost, they’re rotten—corroded to their core. And I believe they should be dealt with.”

You frowned, but not out of anger. “Then let Hell decide that. Not Heaven.”

You didn’t rush him. You knew better than to push someone who had carried the burden of rebellion and consequence for eons. But then he finally turned to look at you, expression soft but unreadable.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he said quietly. “For Hell to pass judgment.”

You nodded gently. “In the mortal world, the Greeks had this idea—the Underworld wasn’t just for punishment. There was a system. Judges, trials, decisions based on deeds.”

Lucifer’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Like Minos and Rhadamanthus and Aeacus,” he said, almost playfully. “Mortals really do come up with fascinating myths.”

You leaned forward, a light in your eyes. “We could build something like that. A tribunal here.”

He exhaled with a chuckle, clearly charmed. 

“Is that a yes?” you asked, raising a brow.

Lucifer looked at you properly then. “Yes,” he said. “Let’s work on it together. Once we’ve built something concrete… we can present it to Heaven.”

Before you could even register the wave of emotion rising in your chest, your arms were around him—tight, full of joy, full of relief. He let out a small “oof” of surprise, but instantly melted into your embrace, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

You pulled back only enough to look into his face and then you kissed him. Your lips lingered against his for a long, breathless moment. But eventually, you did pull back just slightly, enough to meet his eyes. Lucifer was flushed, pupils blown wide. 

He laughed softly, nervously. “Sooo… would it be entirely inappropriate,” he began, voice a bit too high-pitched with nerves, “if I asked if you wanted to… um… maybe…” 

You blinked at him, amused.

He tried again, rambling, “I mean, we’ve been together for a while now, and I’m very—very—into you, but also! I don’t want to assume! I never want to assume anything and ruin this, and you don’t have to, we can just cuddle, I’m great at cuddling, I was actually voted Most Cuddleable Angel once upon a ti—”

You silenced him with a soft kiss, your hand trailing to the back of his neck, your fingers curling into his blond hair. Then, without a word, your lips brushed down to his jaw. To the corner of his throat. You felt his breath hitch against you as your mouth moved along the sensitive skin just beneath his ear.

Lucifer made a sound somewhere between a surprised laugh and a groan. “Oh,” he breathed, “that’s… you’re… wow.”

You smirked softly against his skin as you reached for the buttons of his vest, slowly unfastening one, then the next.

He swallowed thickly. “Okay, okay, I’m just making sure—this is definitely a thing that’s happening, right? I’m not hallucinating? This isn’t a very intense dream sequence where I wake up alone and—oh…”

You hummed, amused by how flustered he was even as his body arched into your touch.

Your fingers made quick work of the last button on his vest, your lips trailing kisses down the smooth skin of his chest. Lucifer trembled under your mouth, his breath coming in soft gasps.

You moved lower, kissing down the line of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath each touch. His skin was warm, flushed a gorgeous shade of golden where your lips grazed. Just as your mouth ghosted along the edge of his navel, your hands sliding teasingly toward his belt—

And in one blur of motion, faster than your eyes could track, he flipped the both of you, your back hit the soft sheets again. Lucifer now loomed over you, face bright gold, hair a little wild, and stunned. “Stop teasing me. It’s cruel.”

You blinked up at him, then laughed—an unfiltered, delighted sound that made him groan and bury his face in your neck. “I was this close to combusting,” he mumbled against your skin, muffled and thoroughly flustered.

You stroked your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he practically melted into you, even while trying to preserve a shred of dignity. “Luci,” you teased, voice honey-sweet, “We don’t have to –”

And then he kissed you, breathlessly and without hesitation this time. You sighed into it, your arms wrapping around his back, pulling him closer as he melted into the warmth of your body.

The soft fabric of your nightgown slid up your body with every kiss he placed along your skin, his eyes drinking you in like you were a masterpiece painted just for him.

When the fabric was gone and you lay bare before him, he paused, kneeling between your legs. He looked breathless, entranced by you.

He glanced up, voice low and soft. “May I...?” His hands trembled slightly as he settled between your thighs.

You nodded, your breath catching as he kissed just above your inner thigh. And then his horns curled out from his head. His tail appeared behind him, swishing like an overexcited cat’s. It wagged once, twice, before he noticed and stilled with a panicked gasp.

“Oh god—don’t—don’t look at that, please,” he stammered, trying to hide his tail with one hand, the other reaching to cover his horns. “I—sometimes it happens when I’m, uh, this excited. I know it looks—monstrous—”

You sat up and took his hands gently. “Lucifer,” you whispered, “you’re beautiful. All of you. The horns, the tail and um…it’s kind of...hot, actually.”

He blinked. “You—really?” His voice cracked adorably.

You grinned, leaning up to kiss one of his horns, making him shiver. “Really.”

Lucifer swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “O-okay then, um. Right. Please,” he added, almost bashfully, “lay back for me?”

You did.

And when he settled back between your legs, his hands glided up your thighs. He kissed the inside of your knee, then a little higher, and higher still, until his breath fanned across the most sensitive part of you. “Oh my…” he murmured. “You’re perfect.”

He kissed you there, slow, soft and then deeper, his tongue finally slipping between your folds.

Your hips bucked with a gasp, but he pressed you down with his hand splayed on your stomach. The other hand reached up blindly until he took your hand in his. He brought it to his horns.

“Here,” he said against your heat, “Please hold on for your own safety, sweetheart.”

You let out a broken laugh, breathless already. The King of Pride, truly.

And then he dove back in—eager, loving, hungry. Every flick of his tongue made your body arch, and when your fingers gripped his horns, he groaned so deeply you felt it in your spine.

Lucifer was unrelenting. Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue against your sensitive folds, was filled with intention, like he was memorizing how to best please you. His eyes flicked up occasionally, glowing with soft awe every time you gasped or moaned his name.

Your grip tightening around his horns as the pressure built, pleasure coiling in your stomach.

“Just like that, you’re –nghhh– doing so good, fuck…” you whispered, voice shaking, back arching off the blanket beneath you.

Lucifer let out a soft sound, half groan, half whimper, utterly lost in the moment, like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered in the entire realm. His tongue moved in deeper, more precise circles, holding you in place as your thighs trembled.

He angled his mouth just right, and when he gently sucked on your clit, stars exploded behind your eyes. The tension snapped. You came hard with a broken moan of his name, your body writhing beneath him, thighs clamping around his head as waves of heat rolled through you.

Lucifer didn’t stop. He held you close, mouth still working you through every aftershock, slow and steady, until your thighs twitched and you whimpered from the overstimulation.

Only then did he finally pull back—his lips glistening, cheeks flushed golden, pupils blown wide with desire. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving.

He looked completely undone. “Was that okay?” he asked, voice soft as a prayer.

You were still breathless, dazed, your chest rising and falling quickly. All you could do was nod, your hand reaching for him, pulling him up to kiss you.

You lay still for a moment, catching your breath. Lucifer watched you with a dazed smile, clearly proud of himself. 

“I just need a minute to recover,” you murmure.

Lucifer's smug grin widened. “Oh, I know,” he said. You didn’t let him be smug for long, sitting up and swinging one leg over him, settling atop his lap.

The smirk on his face faltered as his breath caught. “Sweetheart…” he whispered, a golden blush rising high on his cheeks.

You rolled your hips once, teasingly, and the whimper he let out was nothing short of delicious. His hands flew instinctively to your waist, holding you like you were both his salvation and his undoing.

Your fingers worked open the front of his pants, slow and deliberate. You freed him from the confines of his trousers and there he was: thick, flushed gold at the tip, heavy and aching in your hand. Lucifer let out a strangled groan at the contact, his tail flicking erratically behind him.

You glanced down, biting your lip in appreciation. You held him steady, your palm wrapping around the base. He twitched in your grip. “Darling please…”

And then you angled your hips.

The tip nudged at your entrance, slick with need. With one slow, smooth motion, you sank down onto him. Both of you gasped.

His head fell back against the pillow with a groan of your name, while your breath hitched, feeling every inch stretch and fill you. He fit perfectly, almost maddeningly so.

Your hands pressed against his chest as you adjusted, steadying yourself.

“You feel—” he started, but couldn’t finish. You rolled your hips in answer.

His groan echoed through the room.

Your hips rocked in a steady rhythm as you rode him, the wet sound of your bodies meeting echoing softly. Lucifer’s hands clutched your waist, guiding your movements.

His breath hitched every time you rolled your hips just right, every time your walls clenched around him. “You’re… magnificent,” he gasped out.

You smiled breathlessly, your hands braced against his chest as your movements quickened. His cock hit all the right spots inside you, and the heat in your belly was building again, so sharp and urgent.

Lucifer’s gaze dropped slightly, to where your breasts bounced softly with each movement. A low, needy groan escaped his throat. He reached up, hands tentative for only a moment before he cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

The touch made you cry out, back arching slightly into his hands.

“Please– Fuck please —,” His grip on your hips tightened, grounding himself as your pace grew more erratic. You were both gasping now, lost in the heady rhythm, the sheets tangled beneath you. His tail coiled around your thigh.

“Mmmnghh— you’re—” he tried to say, but another moan cut him off as you clenched around him. “You’re everything.”

You rolled your hips harder, and Lucifer’s eyes fluttered shut. His fingers found your nipples again, rolling them gently between his fingers to draw out another whimper from your throat.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, and before you could react, he suddenly flipped you onto your back with ease, yet his touch was careful. “Sorry—sorry,” he panted. “I just… I need to feel you closer.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a gasp as he thrust back into you, deeper now, his body pressing flush against yours.

One hand held your thigh tightly, the other caressing your cheek, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing the edge of his lips as he leaned into your touch like a man starved of softness.

“I’m glad I found you,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. His thrusts grew more intense, more desperate, but still laced with that aching tenderness only love could bring.

The stretch felt impossibly good, your bodies pressed so close now that you could feel his heart pounding wildly against yours.

“Y-You’re so beautiful,” he panted, pressing kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “I—damn it—I don’t deserve you, but I—thank you. Thank you for loving me.”

You opened your eyes, and the look you gave him nearly undid him right then.

He was lost in the sight of you beneath him—hair fanned out like a halo, skin flushed, body open and trembling for him.

And when your walls tightened around him, your body clenching as you moaned his name while cumming, it was too much.

“I love you,” he gasped against your neck, voice cracking. “I love you so much…mmmngh.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your back arching as pleasure surged through you like wildfire.

He groaned deeply, arms tightening around you, his pace erratic now. “Gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum—” he choked out. 

“Yes, L-love you so much…nghhh,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “Don’t stop. Please, Luci—”

With a deep, broken moan, Lucifer folded you beneath him, pushing your knees up as he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard. His eyes fluttered shut, his face twisted in pure bliss as warmth flooded inside you.

Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath, heartbeat still thundering from the storm you both had just weathered. Lucifer’s weight was still on you, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

You gently ran your fingers through his tousled golden hair, the scent of him clinging to your skin—sweet, like apple blossoms.

But then… you felt it. A slow roll of his hips. You gasped softly, your body overstimulated, nerves still singing from the high. “Lucifer…” you breathed, not in warning, but in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling with emotion but his hips didn’t stop. “I just… I can’t stop...please?”

His cock, only semi-hard a moment ago, was already hardening again inside you, impossibly slow and deep with each roll of his hips. Your body ached, but it throbbed with want, your heart aching just as fiercely as your flesh.

You moaned softly, arching into him despite the tenderness. “You’re insatiable,” you said with a strained laugh, your fingers gripping his back.

He nuzzled into your neck, voice shaking as he whispered, “I just love you. So much.”

“I love you too, honey. You don’t have to stop,” you whispered. “I’m yours. Just… slower this time?”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, slower now, deep and full of aching affection. He moved gently, every thrust slow and fluid, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled under him, gasping against his mouth.

You were beneath him, around him, etched into every corner of his being. And he never wanted to move. Not from this bed. Not from this moment. Not from you.

She chose me. The thought looped in his mind like a quiet mantra. Over and over.

Even now, after months of being with you, of sharing laughter and arguments and kisses, he still couldn’t understand how something like this—someone like you—could be real and his. You looked at him like he was something beautiful and worth holding. 

_____________________

You woke slowly, body pleasantly aching from the night before. The claw marks and ripped pillows made you chuckle.

You turned to look at him, and your heart clenched in that stupid way it always did around him. Lucifer, sleeping with the softest expression on his face—his chest rising and falling in even breaths, lips parted slightly. His arm still draped over your side, as if he refused to let go even in dreams.

Carefully, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

You slid out from the bed, naked. You grabbed a robe from the armchair, tying it loosely around yourself, and quietly stepped out of Lucifer’s room.

The moment you turned the corner in the hallway, you froze. Angel Dust was standing there, a mug in hand. He looked at you for a solid minute.

Then slowly raised a brow as a slow, wicked grin stretched across his face. “Well, well...” He gave a dramatic whistle. “Daaaamn, babe, you look like you just had a religious experience.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Good morning to you too, Angel.”

He sipped his coffee. “I only let the king get drunk so he can talk to you…and guess he did, hmm?”

You gave him a flat look, but couldn't stop the small smile forming. “Don't tell me you were standing here all night, listening.”

He smirked, tossing his hair. “Please, I'm not that desperate for porn. You too were so loud, it's not my fault. I had to go sleep somewhere else.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to head down for your own cup of coffee, the heat in your cheeks refusing to fade. But your heart? It was full and warm. 

“So…” he drawled, “does Charlie know?”

You froze mid-sip. “…Know what?”

Angel arched a brow. “That you’re bangin’ her dad.”

You coughed violently, slamming your mug down, wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Angel cackled in glee.

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” you mumbled.

Angel tilted his head. “It isn’t?”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “We’re not hiding it—we’re just… not advertising it. That’s different.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I told Lucifer to tell her. He promised he would.”

Angel snorted. “The king? Confront something emotionally difficult? Babe, I love the guy, but come on.”

You groaned again, louder this time, and slumped dramatically in your chair. “Oh my god. It’s going to be so awkward if I tell her.”

“You know you gotta tell her, right? It’s better coming from you than her walking in on you guys.”

You gave a long, heavy sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’ll… talk to him first.”

“Sooo,” Angel wiggled his brows. “How was the ride? You need to give me freaky deets.”

You threw a snowball on his face as he cackled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next>>>

Taglist: @atlantis-just-drowned @elegancefr @uniquecutie-puffs @petalsrdead @jazztato @fangthesandwing @rfox1998 @ravensdecent36 @qardasngan @lxxahazel @david-tennant-obsessed @n3bula-glitter @hunt3r0

[harrywavycurly]

There’s No Rush: Pinky

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, mentions of drinking, mentions of anxiety and reader is very shy.

A/N: I made the decision to make this into an AU of sorts, where Niall is still an artist he just isn’t super famous and Harry works in the music industry but as a songwriter. I hope y’all enjoy this series it’s going to be fun!🎶

Tag List: @isinpfortvdmen @cumuluscranium @justagirlthatlovedtoread @secretisme4 @sweetmoonlove0214 @jerseygirlinca @christianaevans @purplekimijks @thislilmindofmine @jane-blogs04 @latedirectionerera

Summary: You run into Harry while preparing to give a speech at your bestfriend’s wedding and he introduces you to his Irish friend Niall🎶💕

As you scan the reception space you begin to regret agreeing to being in the bridal party. The amount of people sat at the long tables being washed in a warm light coming from the thousands of tiny fairy lights wrapped around the tree branches above is enough to have you breaking into a light sweat at the idea of having to give a speech in front of them. But of course you’ll still do it, Ginger being one of your oldest and dearest friends you’ll do just about anything for her but that doesn’t mean you won’t freak out about it first.

That’s how you end up at the bar mindlessly stirring your drink as you mentally go over the speech you’re due to give as soon as Ginger and Allen take their seats at the small table in the front. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath before you open them and raise your glass up so you can take a sip of your drink through the straw. Suddenly a loud laugh filters its way to your ears making you become aware that while you were consumed with trying to calm down your nerves two men have made their way to the bar. You watch as one of them with short curly brown hair, who you swear seems extremely familiar downs what looks to be a shot of some sort of clear liquor while the one with short brown hair laughs at his friend’s reaction to finishing the shot.

“I don’t know how you convince me to do things like that.” The man with curly hair says revealing his British accent that makes your shoulders drop in relief as you recognize who the voice belongs to, Harry Styles. He’s been a close friend of Ginger’s since she met him in a music theory class back in college, but you didn’t meet him until a few months later and since then he’s somehow wormed his way into your life and has become a very good friend of yours as well. It comes as no surprise that the first time you see him tonight is at the bar, he’s always been quite the party animal.

“Oh right like you needed a whole lot of convincing. Yer arse is the one who dragged me to the-”

“Is that Pinky I spy over there?” You’re too lost in the deep Irish accent coming from the short haired man that you don’t even notice that Harry has taken a step towards you with a playful smirk on his face while the man he’s with steps up to the bar and orders a drink.

“Fuck off Harry you know she hates that nickname.” Allen’s stern voice knocks you out of your trance, bringing you back to reality as you look at Harry who offers you a dimpled grin. You feel a hand on top of your shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze, you know Allen has always seen you as a little sister so he doesn’t hesitate to try to put an end to things he knows make you upset, such as the nickname Harry has been calling you since you met him nearly six years ago at a college party Ginger dragged you to.

“Oh come on we all know she doesn’t mind it.” Allen sends Harry a glare from his spot behind you. “Besides I personally adore how pink your cheeks are all the time.” Harry explains as he takes two small steps so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view of his Irish friend, you feel your face get hot as Harry shoots you a wink. “Come on Pinky get in here.” His voice is soft and sweet as he opens his arms up for a hug and against your better judgment you put your drink down and allow him to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you into a tight embrace.

“It’s nice to see you Harry.” Your voice gets lost in the fabric of his dress shirt as he begins to gently rock you back and forth while his hands rub up and down your back. You wonder for a moment if he can tell your nerves are through the roof and that’s why he’s doing these little things to calm you down or if he’s just a bit more handsy and clingy due to the shot he just took. But either way you find yourself melting into his embrace, something that always tends to happen with him as if he just knows exactly what to do to get you to relax.

“How’ve you been love?” He asks as he pulls away just enough so he can get a good look at your face making you instantly look down at the cross pendant that hits him right in the middle of his chest, not fully ready to look him in the eyes just yet.

“Uhm I’ve been go-good. Yeah I’ve been-been good.” You stumble through your answer making Harry nod while a small chuckle makes it way through him.

“What’s going on? What’s got you all wound up?” His voice is hushed so only you can hear him as his hands run up and down your arms. You let out a sigh as you slowly lift your head so you can look him in his emerald colored eyes making a smile stretch across his face once your eyes find his.

“Sorry I’m just a little nervous about my-my speech.”

“Oh that reminds me-” You turn to look at Allen over your shoulder as Harry drops his hands from your arms but doesn’t move from his place in front of you. “Ginger said you’re due up there in like ten minutes.” You know he can see the panic take over your face little by little as the words leave his mouth. “Don’t stress it okay? You’ll do great.” Is all he has time to offer you in terms of reassurance before he turns and grabs his drink from the bartender and heads towards his table.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” Harry mumbles and before you can reply you’re suddenly being pulled into his side by the arm he somehow managed to drape over your shoulder without you even noticing. “Don’t worry about your speech Pinky you’re gonna smash it and besides half these people are drunk anyway so they won’t even-”

“Jesus H is this s’posed to be a pep talk?” You feel Harry’s arm drop down to around your middle as he turns the two of you towards the man with the Irish accent.

“No it’s better than a pep talk. It’s the truth.” Harry says with a playful wink sent your way when he glances down at you before looking back over to his friend. “Oh where are my manners? Pinky this is Niall Horan. Niall this is Pinky she’s the one who I told you used to crack into the campus records and change my D’s into B’s.”

“That’s-that’s not true I ne-never did that.” You shake your head and fumble with your words as Niall looks from Harry down to you with a warm smile that you would return if you could manage to look at him but instead you just decide to look down at his shoes as your whole face feels like it’s on fire as soon as you feel his eyes on you.

“She’s just being modest.” Harry gives your side a soft pinch, something he knows will get a little giggle out of you. “She’s a wiz on the computer that’s why she works in a dark little corner office for some cyber security company and gets paid to try to hack into things to find holes in their security systems.” You want to crawl into a hole as Harry tries to make your job sound way cooler than it is when in reality you’re just an accomplished computer nerd who gets to spend her days in peaceful solitude while typing away at the keyboard and staring at her monitors.

“Really? That’s so cool.” Niall’s voice doesn’t hold an ounce of sarcasm instead it’s full of awe as if he’s actually really impressed by your job, and you’d be able to really tell how impressed he is if only you’d dare to look up at his face but you’re not ready yet.

“Oh thanks but it’s actually not that cool.” You say in one long breath as you begin to mess with the ring on your index finger, trying your hardest not to let your awkwardness ruin the mood. Moments like this make you wish you were more outgoing and not so anxious and shy when it comes to meeting new people, but you can’t help it sometimes especially when your mind is elsewhere instead of trying to focus on forming complete sentences in front of an Irish dude named Niall Horan.

“Looks like you’re being summoned.” Niall’s words have you finally looking up from his feet and that’s when you get a real glimpse of his face. You feel your mouth go dry when you notice just how handsome he is and his eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes so blue before.

“Pinky? You still in there or did you leave us?” You blink a few times as Harry waves his ring clad hand in front of your face.

“What? Sorry did-did you say something?” You stutter as Niall tries to hide the smile that wants to take over his face at the fact he caught you staring at him by bringing his drink up to his lips to take a sip. Harry laughs and shakes his head as he turns you around so he can lead you towards the front of the tables where you’re meant to stand to give your speech.

“Take a few deep breaths okay? I really meant it when I said you’ll be fine. This room is full of people who either don’t know you that well so they won’t really be listening or people who absolutely love you so you’re gonna kill it.” His hand is on your lower back as he maneuvers you around people that are heading off to their assigned seats at one of the many tables.

“Thanks Harry.” You whisper as the two of you finally make it to the little set up for the entertainment that’s set to go on after the speeches and toasts. It’s nothing more than a wooden stool and a microphone with two guitar stands and a piano all being lit up by warm fairy lights that are wrapped around some fake trees that blend in with the rest of the decor of the reception.

“I’ll be right over there.” He points towards the bar making you nod as you swallow down the nerves that are beginning to creep back up. “So if you feel like you’re about to panic just look at me okay? It’s the oldest trick in the book. Just pick something to stare at in the back of the room and you’ll be fine.” He grabs your hands as you stand next to the microphone, making sure he has your full attention as he bends his knees a bit so he’s eye level with you. “Deep breath Pinky come on.” You follow his instructions and take in a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose making him smile as he gives your hands a nice squeeze.

“I think-think I’m good now.” You say with a smile making Harry grin as he stands up and lets go of your hands. “Just please don’t tell me if it sucks.” Harry laughs as he leans over and places a quick kiss to your cheek before he turns to head towards the bar.

“So you and uh Pinky seem close?” Niall doesn’t want to come across as suspicious but he can’t help it with the way he saw Harry treat you, he knows his friend is a very touchy feely person but he hasn’t ever known him to act like that with people he isn’t at least sort of interested in.

“I’ve known her for years.” Harry answers with a shrug all while never taking his eyes off the stage area as he leans back against the bar, Niall copies his movements after placing his half empty glass down on the bar top. “I don’t see her as often as I used to when we were in college because she doesn’t really get out much.” He adds as he runs a hand through his hair while Niall turns his focus towards the stage just in time to see you mess with the microphone stand trying to adjust its height.

“She seems-”

“Shy? Anxious? Awkwardly adorable?”

“Honestly? All three.” That answer makes Harry look over at Niall who is staring at you with a soft expression on his face making a smile tug at the corner of Harry’s mouth because he can tell Niall is at the very least intrigued by you.

“She doesn’t like large crowds or meeting new people. That’s especially tricky for her. When I met her at a party back in college it was because I accidentally bumped into her and when I went to apologize I swear her whole body turned pink she was so embarrassed as if it was her fault I ran into her.” Harry laughs at the memory of meeting you back in his wild party days when he had long hair and walked around with an attitude that made it seem like he didn’t have a care in the world, you’d argue that the only thing that’s changed about him is his hair is shorter now.

“And you managed to get her to want to be friends with you?” Niall questions with a quirked brow as he turns his attention away from you and over to Harry who shoots him a glare.

“I didn’t really give her a choice. She made me nervous to leave her alone after that because she just didn’t seem comfortable and I was worried someone would be an asshole about it so yeah I just forced my friendship on her and eventually she gave in.” It all starts to click in Niall’s mind as Harry divulges more details about his friendship with you. You’re someone he feels protective of and that seems to be a common thing among your friends, they all want to make sure you feel comfortable and safe.

“Uhm hello how is everyone?” Niall and Harry both turn their attention towards the stage as your voice hits their ears, amplified by the microphone you have a death grip on. “Incase you don’t know me I’m the maid of honor.” Niall smiles as you introduce yourself and he finally gets to hear what your actual name is.

Harry watches you like a proud older brother as you start in on your speech, his eyes are glued to you as he watches you look around the tables at all the people sitting and staring at you. Only when he sees your cheeks get flushed does he being to slightly panic that you’re about to have a moment where your nerves get the best of you making you stutter and stumble over your words. But to his surprise you seem to have taken his advice, he watches as your eyes shift over towards the back where he’s stood leaning against the bar but it’s not his eyes you’re staring into it’s the sapphire blue ones that belong to his friend that’s standing right next to him.

Everything happens in what feels like a blur and suddenly people are clapping and the best man is walking up towards you so he can begin his speech. Offering you a warm smile and a quick hug before he takes the microphone from you, whispering his praises for the kind words you spoke about Ginger and the happy couple in your ear making you blush. You give a few small waves to your friends and blow a kiss to Ginger and Allen as you pass them on your way to the bar so you can get something to wash your nerves down with.

“That was a lovely speech Pinky you did so good.” Harry’s voice is full of pride as he approaches you with open arms right before you reach the bar. “I’m so proud of you.” You smile as your arms wrap around his middle while his go around your shoulders pulling you into a warm hug.

“It didn’t suck?” You ask quietly making Harry laugh as he gives you a squeeze.

“It was perfect.” He answers as you pull away and look up at him. He leans down so his lips are close to your ear. “Niall was quite impressed as well. Couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.” He whispers making your heart feel as if it could burst out of the chest with how fast it’s beating.

“Oh uh really? I didn’t-didn’t notice.” Harry just laughs as your face gets warm and you stumble a bit trying to get your words out in a rush.

“Is that so?” You know he’s teasing you as the two of you pull away but Harry keeps a hand on your arm. “You didn’t notice he was staring at you while you were also staring right at him?” You feel your eyes go a bit wide at Harry’s question, you didn’t even realize you had been staring at Niall until a little towards the end of your speech when you looked away from him and towards Ginger and Allen. “Don’t worry I’m not jealous or anything.” He jokes as he gives your arm a squeeze before leaning in and placing another kiss to your cheek.

“Keep a seat open for me okay? I don’t want to be stuck at the losers table.” You roll your eyes as he drops his hand from your arm and steps around you towards the stage area where the best man is still giving his speech.

“My table is for the bridal party Harry you can’t sit with me.”

“I know the bride and I know how to party so that sounds like the exact table I should be at.” You laugh and shake your head at his response, not bothering to argue with him because you know he will just work his charm on an unsuspecting bridesmaid and end up sitting at the table anyway. With a final wink and grin sent your direction Harry is off leaving you able to finish the short walk to the bar so you can order a drink.

“Sparkling water with lots of lemon please.” The bartender just smiles and nods before working on your very uncomplicated drink order.

“Aren’t you missin somethin with that order?” Niall feels a twinge of guilt hit him when he sees you jump at the sound of his voice. “Sorry didn’t meant t’scare you.” He quickly apologizes as he takes a small step towards you just as you get your drink handed to you.

“Oh you-uhm uh did-didn’t scare me.” You want to curl up in a ball at how dumb you sound trying to get an extremely simple sentence out but you just blame it on the post speech jitters and try to move on. “And uhm I don’t really drink but I like-like the bubbles and it looks like a cocktail so no one notices.” Niall nods along as you explain your drink choice to him, feeling a small bubble of pride grow in his chest at the fact you’re sharing a personal little fact with him.

“That’s brilliant.” He can’t help but smile as he leans his hip against the bar so he is now fully facing you, he doesn’t mind that you haven’t looked at him yet he knows you’re shy and honestly he is enjoying the freedom of being able to look at you without the worry of being caught. “Your speech was great.” He catches the way your cheeks get red and a smile takes over your face as his words hit your ears.

“Thank you Niall.” The way your voice sounds when it says his name makes Niall wants to hear you say it over and over again because it makes his heart flutter a bit in his chest. “So are you uh here with Harry?” You finally find the courage to turn your head to look at him, or at least down at his hand that is wrapped around a glass of brown liquid with two ice cubes that he has resting on the bar.

“M’actually the entertainment for tonight’s festivities Harry got me the gig so he’s gonna be my guitarist for a few songs he helped me write.” Niall takes a moment to let his eyes roam over your figure as you continue to just look at his hand that is now gripping the glass with a little more force than he was a moment ago.

“Oh I uhm didn’t know Harry played guitar.” Your words snap Niall out of his only slightly inappropriate thoughts as his eyes find yours. If he didn’t have such good control of himself he would’ve been startled by you suddenly deciding to look him in the eyes but instead he just stares right back at you, matching your intensity.

“Ah well then yer in for a treat tonight. He’s actually pretty decent at it.”

“And you-uhm you-”

“Sing? Yeah I sing and play the piano as well as the guitar.” He finishes your question for you making you give him a soft smile as a silent thank you because it lets you know he can tell you’re a little flustered but he isn’t making a big thing out of it like some people tend to do.

“I’ve always wanted to learn the piano.” You tell him as you look away, needing a moment to regather your thoughts and get your heartbeat under control.

“I could teach you.” Niall tosses the offer out there in hopes it’ll give him an excuse to get your number but when you look like a dear that’s been caught in a set of headlights he regrets how casual he made it sound because surely you’re probably assuming that’s a line he uses all the time but it’s not. Niall honestly hates teaching people how to play instruments especially since the last person he taught how to play something was Harry when he begged him to teach him the guitar, but for you he’d make an exception because he just wants to spend more time with you.

“I uh don’t-”

“We have a situation.” You feel a hand on your shoulder taking your attention away from Niall and over towards Heather, a bridesmaid and Allen’s younger sister.

“Oh okay what’s wrong?” You try not to panic while a few dozen scenarios begin to play out in your mind of what the situation could be as you turn so your back is facing the bar.

“Harry is trying to add a seat-”

“I’ll get him.” Niall’s voice makes both you and Heather turn to look at him, he downs the rest of his drink setting the empty glass on the bar before he heads off towards the curly haired man causing havoc at the bridal party table.

“Who is that?”

“Niall Horan.”

“He’s cute.”

“Oh I uh yeah if you’re in-into that kinda look.”

“And Irish.”

“Is he? I didn’t-uhm didn’t notice.”

“Right.” She drags out the word while giving you a knowing look as your eyes land on Niall as he grabs Harry by the shoulders and begins leading him off towards the stage set up.

“Harry you’re gonna get us kicked out of your own friend’s wedding for Christ sake get it together.” Niall whispers harshly in Harry’s ear as his grip on his shoulders tightens.

“Oh relax I was just checking if any of the bridesmaids needed anything.” Harry says with a laugh like him trying to squeeze himself in at the table wasn’t that big of a deal, he shrugs himself loose of Niall’s grip and sends him a playful smirk. “Besides you’re the one who would get us kicked out with how much of a poor mess you’re making Pinky over there.” Niall stops in his tracks the moment Harry mentions you, not following Harry up onto the stage.

“What do you mean? I’ve been nothin but polite to her.” Harry grabs his guitar that’s set up on stage and turns to face Niall who looks like he’s about to have a mini panic attack making Harry laugh.

“She hasn’t been this much of a blushing and fumbling mess since-well since I met her.”

“I think it’s cute the uh way she blushes all the time and messes up her words a bit.”

“Yeah well the way you’ve got her acting like a shy little schoolgirl surely won’t go unnoticed by Allen and Ginger.” Harry explains as he begins to mess with his guitar making sure it’s good to go for the first two songs Niall has set for the evening. “Those two are like her personal security but don’t worry Ginger is a sweetheart but Allen he-he can be a real wanker when he wants to be.” Niall runs a hand through his hair as he steps up onto the stage and grabs his own guitar.

“So if I win over the bride you think I could maybe get her number? Or you think she’d freak out if I asked her for it? M’not trying to push her over the edge or anything.” Niall looks at Harry as he adjusts the strap of his guitar he has over his shoulder. Harry takes a moment to think before he gives Niall a grin and reaches for his phone in the front pocket of his slacks.

“Oh what the hell you’re a nice guy.” Niall rolls his eyes at Harry’s statement as he watches him tap the screen a few times until he finds your contact information. “I’ll give you her number.” With that Harry shares your contact information with Niall who stands there with wide eyes, shocked that Harry just tossed all caution to the wind and sent him your information without even checking with you first.

“But if you hurt her I will kill you with my bare hands.” It’s the casual way Harry threatens Niall that has him believing he really would make good on it, the way the smile leaves his face as he looks Niall dead in the eyes making Niall just swallow hard and nod his head in understanding. With that the smile returns to Harry’s face and he slips his phone back into his pocket before going back to adjusting his guitar strap.

As Niall stands on the stage and gets himself ready to start his set he feels as if someone is looking at him. So when he looks up from the guitar in his hands he quickly realizes who it was as his eyes scan the tables that are situated next to the small dance floor in front of the stage. He watches your face turn a deep shade of pink as you look down at your lap, the bridesmaid sitting next to you giggles as she leans in and whispers something in your ear making you place your hands over your face in embarrassment. He smiles to himself as he looks down at the instrument in his hands, he knows he just met you and that you don’t know each other at all but the idea of you letting him learn more about you has a sense of excitement bubbling up inside of Niall. He just hopes you don’t mind how he ended up with your number but that’s something he is willing to risk because you’re not someone he can see himself forgetting about anytime soon.

[supernova41st]

Sweet n’ Sour 👛 (pt.2)

Tf2 x “nice”Reader

A/n: Here’s pt.1 if you don’t know what this fic is abt, ik I said I was going to do my own fic after the last one I made but I couldn’t think of anything sooo I’m just doing this. I might do a ‘tf2 x Snooki!Reader’ cuz I just started watching jersey shore and I love it (also you could tell I put my whole heart and ass into snipers section)

warnings: Slut shaming, Reader and Sniper banging, enemies to lovers, hatefuck (sorry this one’s wild)

Pyro

Pyro quickly took a liking to you because of your girly nature, he loved your style

He’s only ever been on your good side, painting nails reading magazines gossiping etc.

He’s such a girls man. No, not a ladies man, a girls man

“Holy fuck! Snooki got arrested”

“Mm mffmm mmm?”

*from jersey shore??

“Yes from jersey shore!!”

Of course you two are duos on the battlefield, skipping happily around the blu teams base as it burns down

Def owns one of those heart friendship necklaces

About him being a girls man, he always makes sure you look good on the battlefield

Loves picking out outfits with you and always carries around something he knows you’ll forget

“Shit! I forgot to put on lipgloss..”

“Mmm mmphm mm?”

*here, cherry bomb right?

“gasp Omg I love you so much 💕”

You and Pyro would have the loving best friend relationship, kissing each others cheek and shit

Doing makeup on mask>>>>

Imagine the fake lashes along w the blush 😭 he loves it

lol put big anime girl eyes on him pls

“You’re fucking chewing right now P.”

“mmm mm!!!”

*thank you!!

Sniper

He hated you when he first saw you omg. Sniper is introverted cuz he got bullied and school, so now he automatically thinks any girl with even a slightly feminine style is bitchy

To be fair you were.. to him

Srry but he got annoyed with you so fast, it started a hefty rivalry between you and snipes

“Where’s princess prissy?”

“Uhm I know you’re not talking about me, at least I actually go down there to fight unlike you in the sidelines.”

It’s always something with you guys istg

He has to admit (but won’t) , he loves watching you destroy the enemy team the way you do from afar. Blood and guts getting in your hair and pretty face. Whenever you catch him staring at you you always give him the finger, makes him chuckle despite how much he ‘hates’ you

Sometimes he has to leave more than piss in his jars

He still kept the enemy streak but it was just to hide his feelings

The mercs get so sick of your guys’s attitude, they practically begged Miss Pauling to send you and sniper off to a mission so they can get a break. She obliged

“Yeah I’m not working with him, sorry! I’d rather go back to juvie than go sleep in his musty van.”

“Bonzy, wouldn’t want to smell your bloody strong perfume all over me van ya whore.”

“I’d rather smell like strong perfume than someone who hangs around piss jars and has coffee breath!!”

Miss Pauling immediately understood why the mercs wanted you guys to go away. And so she forced you to stay in his ‘musty van’ for a week so that you both can go assassinate god knows who. Safe to say it wasn’t an easy trip.

“Ay, I’m gonna go hunt for dinner, you comin’?

“Why the fuck would I wanna go with you?? Bye.”

damn, you didn’t have to end him like that 😭

You felt something when this bitch came back with a 14ft alligator, dragging it by the tail back to the van. You bit your lip staring at him as he wiped the sweat from his forehead

You asked him to hook up, you tried to be subtle but it just turned out uneasy to say the least

“Hey I liked the way you um.. dragged that crocodile back there”

“Chuckle it was a alligator, Sheila”

“Of course you know the difference..”

You blushed, along with him, laughing awkwardly, biting your pink painted thumbnail while he scratched the back of his neck

Cut to you guys waking up naked in his bed all sweaty

Hate fucking or not, now instead of the mercs being annoyed of you hating each other too much, they hate how much you love each other

“Cmon guys not in the goddamn break room..”

“Sorry, I just love his black coffee breath”

“And I love the smell of the perfume I got ya”

“God I fucking hate it when you use Australian slang..”

You still did your thing in the break room

Spy

He has so much hate in his heart for you, and it shows

The difference between him and sniper is that he doesn’t like ANYTHING about you, especially the way you fight

Sure it surprised him when you showed off how you fought, but he didn’t take a liking to it

While trying to sneak up on an enemy sniper, you immediately bashed their head in with your pink hammer. He glared at you so hard

“😐”

“What shitface?? Say something. I got impatient you were taking too long.”

This guy wants nothing to do with you, if you get assigned to a mission together he’ll have his way to sneak out of it.

In the expiration date short you wrote

Fuck you <3

On the paper he handed to everyone along with a drawing of a middle finger for the bucket thing he did

How did he know it was you? You made the hand look exactly like yours, acrylic nails and all.

You and scout started giggling like school girls

“..would anyone else like to insult me??”

soldier slowly raising his hand

Posting on your story in the middle of a battle is such a good way to mess with him, just doing the peace sign while he stays frustrated in the background

‘This old fuck really expects me to kill this big bitch alone 😹😹 Lol he fucking wishes, anyways I’m prob gonna get in trouble bcuz of this but IDRC 💜 #ellieandmasonhouse’

He wants to kill you so bad, sadly you’re one of the most useful mercs on the team. But if you weren’t he’d be so down to kill you

[ticklygiggles]

Staring contest | Kamitani Hayato & Kashima Ryuuichi (+ the kids)

Commissioned by @wertzunge

A/N: omg I'm so so sorry for the long wait, I had a big of trouble writing this one, BUT I hope you enjoy it, Max! Thank you so much for your support this time as well you're the best mwah 💕

Summary: Will someone ever win against Ayato?

Words: 1.6k

The daycare was filled with sweet, contagious giggles as Kirin covered her mouth and tightly shut her eyes, her cheeks flushing pink as her pigtails bounced around. 

“Very well,” Ryuuichi clapped his hands together, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Kirin-chan lasted sixty-six… milliseconds,” he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Kazuma-kun lasted the shortest stare of all the children, two milliseconds.” This caused Kazuma to tear up, but Takuma giggled and gently patted his back, calming him. 

Ryuuichi continued, “Kotarou lasted an impressive sixteen seconds.” 

The children hugged Kotarou, congratulating him for outlasting everyone with enthusiastic hugs and cheers.

“It seems Kamitani remains the champion of our staring contest.” 

Ryuuichi wasn't exactly sure how this staring contest had started, well... it actually didn't really start as a contest at all. To pass the time while they waited for Usai to return from his walk with Midori, who had been a little too upset for some reason, Kamitani casually mentioned that absolutely no one had ever beaten him in a staring game.

Ryuuichi hadn't doubted it– Hayato's gaze was truly piercing and intense, and even without a staring game, he often found himself struggling to hold his gaze for long. 

At that moment, Kamitani challenged him and Ryuuichi lasted an embarrassing ten seconds– even less than Kotarou. The children had noticed what they were doing and immediately wanted to join in, claiming that it was officially a contest and the winner would get something very special: a chocolate bar that Ryuuichi would buy in the afternoon and give to the winner the next day. 

Ryuuichi was almost sure that Kata was going to beat Hayato, but after eleven seconds, instead of laughing, he started crying and hiding behind Ryuuichi, sobbing that his nii-chan was being mean to him, which, of course, made no sense.

All the children did their best, but there was really no one who could beat Hayato, probably only his mother. However, the children were not going to give up so easily.

“Taka,” Kirin said, hugging her little giraffe close to her chest. “What makes Hayato-niichama laugh?” 

Taka blinked. “Nii-chan… uh…” He looked over at Hayato, his confused expression soon turning into one of horror, panic and disbelief. “I've never seen nii-chan laughing…” 

There was a unison gasp that filled the nursery and Ryuuichi chuckled as Kamitani hit his little brother on the head, making him cry. Ryuuichi shook his head, seeing the sadness in the kids' eyes. Kotarou was just influenced by it, but Ryuuichi knew he couldn't care less about this whole ordeal. 

“Hayato-niichama…” Kirin said with teary eyes, “... doesn't know how to laugh?” 

“I do know how to laugh,” Hayato answered. “You guys are really not that funny.” 

Another loud gasp filled the nursery and this time tears streamed down the kids’ rounded and flushed cheeks, except for Kotarou. 

“Hayato-niichama hates us!” Kirin cried, hugging her giraffe. 

“Kamita hates us?” Takuma sobbed, looking at Kazuma who was already crying as if something really bad had happened. 

“Stupid nii-chan!” Kata yelled, snot and tears and drool running down his face. “I hate you too!”

Ryuuichi sighed, looking at Hayato. “Kamitani…”

“What? I didn't say I hate them,” Hayato said calmly. “I just said they're not funny.” 

Another wave of cries made Ryuuichi’s ears ring and he rubbed his forehead softly, Kotarou standing by his side, his little hand resting against Ryuuichi's leg. 

“Now, now, everyone,” Ryuuichi tried to make the kids stop crying. “There are people who are difficult to make laugh, but it's not your fault.”

“It's their fault for not being fun-” Ryuuichi pressed his hand against Kamitani’s mouth to shut him up. 

“Everyone, what do you think could make Hayato laugh?” He asked cheerfully. 

“Funny faces!” Kirin said, her eyes still teary as she tried to make a funny expression to make Hayato laugh, of course, that didn't work at all and Kirin cried again. 

“A funny dance!” Kata wiggled in a rather funny way, Ryuuichi had to admit, but Hayato only found it annoying, making his baby brother cry again. 

“Pirouettes!” Takuma cheered, his little round body trying to do a flip, but he rolled sideways, although he looked very proud of himself when he finished. At least this time Hayato clapped, but his expression was just as serious as always. 

Needless to say Kazuma didn't do any better, he started crying as soon as he looked at Kamitani. 

Ryuuichi sighed, gently rubbing Kazuma’s back. “Can't you at least try to smile?” He whispered to Hayato. 

Hayato shook his head. “Why should I fake it?”

Ryuuichi sighed again, nodding softly. “Yes, yes. You're right.” 

He looked at the children, all except Kotarou were sobbing and sniffling softly. Ryuuichi couldn't help but have a small smile on his lips, feeling a little bad about their situation. Even himself had a hard time making Hayato laugh, the only thing that usually worked was- oh! 

His face beamed as a bright smile pulled at his lips. “I have an idea! Everyone, come here!”

The kids gathered close to him and away from Hayato. 

“I know how we can make Kamitani laugh,” he whispered so only the children could hear him. “We should tickle him!”

The children beamed and covered their mouths to giggle quietly. 

“Shh~ Kotarou and I will get Kamitani's feet, the rest of you can either tickle his tummy or sides, got it?” He asked with a smile, poking Kirin's tummy and Kazuma's side, causing the babies to giggle sweetly. 

“Okay, are you ready?” They all nodded in excitement, especially Kirin, Taka and Takuma. Ryuuichi chuckled, standing up. “Okay, then… Attack!” He said, pointing at Hayato who looked amusingly confused, an eyebrow arched as he watched all the babies launching at him, successfully pushing him back onto the floor. 

“Wha- ack!” Hayato twisted as little fingers wiggled and spidered up and down his sides and stomach. 

He squirmed and gasped, but no laughter came from his trembling lips, only threats: “Taka! This- haa! This was… your stupid id-dea, right?!” He growled, trying to push Kirin's hands wiggling against his stomach.

“It was not!” Taka said, squeezing his big brother's side perhaps a bit too harshly, causing Hayato to grunt. 

“It was actually my idea,” Ryuuichi chirped as he straddled Kamitani's shins.

Hayato widened his eyes, raising his head to look at his classmate pinning his feet with a mischievous grin, Kotarou sitting right beside him. 

“D-Don't you d-dare, Kash-shima!” He warned, but Ryuuichi's grin only widened as he looked back at his feet, holding Kamitani's ankles firmly. 

“Go on, Kotarou,” he said happily and Kotarou’s tiny fingers wiggled against Hayato's soles. 

Hayato whined, trying to break free from Ryuuichi's grip and from all those little hands touching his weak spots. Up until that point, he had held his laughter in very well, but it all came crashing down when Ryuuichi's gentle fingers wiggled just below his toes. His blunt nails scratching at the soft skin covered with his socks, the texture of the fabric only adding to the maddening sensation. 

Ryuuichi chuckled when Hayato finally laughed brightly, squirming even more as he desperately curled his toes. Now that his laughter was flowing freely from his mouth, the children's little fingers seemed to have a greater effect. Kirin's fingers wiggling right in the center of his stomach, Taka's pinches on his left side, (which were already a little more gentle after Kirin scolded him), and Takuma’s playful pokes to his right side, (Kazuma simply watched with teary eyes, gripping Takuma's shirt), made Hayato squeal embarrassingly loud and giggle brightly. 

“Ryuu-niichama! Ryuu-niichama!” Kirin called and Ryuuichi looked back over his shoulder with a smile. “We are making Hayato-niichama laugh!” She said excitedly. 

Takuma, “Kamita laugh!”

Taka, “take this, nii-chan!” 

Ryuuichi chuckled softly, looking up at Hayato's bright smile and pink cheeks. It was truly a shame Kamitani didn't laugh more, he looked pretty cute– cute?!

Kashima cleared his throat, looking back at Kamitani's feet as he blushed.

“Nii-cha sick?” Kotarou asked worriedly, noticing Ryuuichi's pink cheeks. 

“A-Ah, no no! N-No, don't worry about it, let's just keep tickling Kamitani, okay?” He said hurriedly and Kotarou simply let out a soft ‘uhn!’, listening to his nii-cha’s words. 

Hayato's laughter filled up the room, little tears wetting his eyelashes as he pleaded for mercy. Ryuuichi thought this was a good time to stop. 

“Okay, okay, everyone,” he said, clapping his hands to get the children's attention, they looked at him with bright eyes and adorable smiles. “I think Kamitani had enough for today, let's stop now, okay?” 

The children did what they were told, giggling as they saw Kamitani collapsing on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Ryuuichi also pulled away, not before teasingly swiping a finger up Hayato's sole, making him squeal and jerk his foot away in response. 

He chuckled as he kneeled beside Hayato and the kids. “Everything alright there, Kamitani?” 

Hayato took a deep breath, wiping his tears away as he propped himself up on his elbows. He looked at the kids with an angry expression.

“Oi…” They all flinched, trying to hide behind Kotarou. “I'll give y'all chocolate chip cookies if you help me get Kashima back.” 

Ryuuichi widened his eyes, gasping as he raised his arms. “N-no! Everyone, I don't-” 

The kids giggled and quickly charged for Ryuuichi, pushing him back onto the soft floor, tickling his tummy and sides as Kamitani grabbed his feet, returning the favor. 

Ryuuichi's laughter echoed through the room and all the way out in the hall. Usai suddenly slid the door open and stepped in with a very happy Midori-chan. 

“Oh, are we tickling Ryuuichi again?” He teased with a smirk. 

“Usahahahai-sahahan! Hehehelp me!” Ryuuichi cackled, trying to gently push the kids away. 

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Midori chirped, her little arms reaching out towards the mess of limbs and tickles. 

“No, I can't,” Usai said. “Our cute Midori-chan wants to join~ try not to kick too hard, okay?” 

Well... Ryuuichi didn't think it would end like this, but hearing the laughter of the children and even Hayato's chuckles, was more than worth it! 

[abilouwrites]

Hihi I was hoping I could request enemies to lovers Zuko x fem!reader?

The reader is a traitor to the fire nation and can bend fire (also a street peformer before she joined the gaang? 👀) 💕💕

Omg getting a request just made my day I love these!!!

I hope you like it 🫶🫶🫶

YOURE STILL A TRAITOR

Id like to say that my life is good, that I’m happy where I am but I’m not. I’m upset and frustrated; but most of all I’m living on the street, preforming stupid acrobatic tricks just to feed myself. I’ve left everything behind. My family and wealth but most importantly someone I never wanted to live without.

I’m upside down when I see them; soft flames coming from the soles of my bare feet. Resting on my forearms and twisting and contorting my body.

“You.” A teenaged girl approaches me and I turn right side up, “you’re a fire bender aren’t you!” She says, “what’s your name?”

“Uh” I stare at her and smile nervously, “y/n Huǒ” I repeat slowly, and quietly. People of the fire nation know the traitor I’ve become outside the walls of the fire nation. Meeting the avatar, going against my friends for his life. All because I believed in something greater than all of this.

“I know you” a boy says, bandana around his forehead, “your grandpa, Yújìn. I know- or knew him” He says

“Oh.” Realization hits my face, “you’re the avatar!” A short girl slaps me.

“Wow way to tell everyone!” She retorts, god are little kids sassy.

“You could teach Aang firebending” Katara says, it’s hard not to know someone’s name when there’s wanted posters all over town.

“I’m good at fire bending but I’m no master” I say, “I thought Prince Zuko abandoned the throne to teach you” I ask

“Well he’s uh.. learning a new way to firebend” Toph laughs a little and I smile awkwardly.

“I don’t bend very traditionally” I reply, “but if it will get me off the streets I guess why not” I stand up straighter and brush my hair out of my face.

“You brought that back?!” Zuko shouts, we’ve had a long history. One that includes a betrothal, and a knife to the gut. He looks at me with disgust which I’m not surprised at.

“I’m a girl. Not a thing!” I cry out, “the only reason I’m here is because Aang needs a firebending teacher because you suck!” I scoff out at him, there’s fire burning in his hands but I never raise mine.

He groans at me, “you’ve always been like this! Even when”

“Zuko I don’t want to talk about that” I warn, there’s a plea in my voice but he accepts that, “it was a long time ago”

“Yeah like it was that long ago” he sasses and I roll my eyes.

“Zuko!”

It doesn’t take long for things to settle down; I’m essentially useless now that Zuko has gotten his bending back. Even if he did it how I told him to do it all along but whatever.

The bickering still happens, and I want to throw a knife at him but part of me still loves him. I didn’t hate being betrothed to him as much as I thought I did.

“Did you ever miss us?” I ask him, “after you were banished. I refused to Azula to give away your location and then the Avatars when you wrote me” I confess, “so I left”

“I think. At first I did, but I don’t— I don’t think we would’ve worked together. We fight all the time. I hated you at first. And you hated me” He admits, looking down slightly. He sighs heavily

“Yeah. I guess. But I didn’t really hate- hate you” I admit, “I missed you. I liked knowing you”

He nods, “I did like knowing you too, you’ve changed so much. I mean your fire it’s pink” he laughs

“Maybe it’s from my bubbly personality” I tease, he laughs

“You. Have a bubbly personality!” He laughs and it’s so good to hear, “you were so shy, like if I sneezed too hard I would scare you”

I smile softly, “I’ve changed so much sense I was twelve” my hair falls around my face and he tucks the loose strand around my ear

“What now that you’re fourteen?” He teases softly, his hand lingers behind my ear. But he removes himself quickly.

“Zuko. Im fifteen” I remind him, it’s embarrassing when he says he knows how my heart flutters and I feel weak in the knees.

“I remember, once you turned eighteen we would’ve” he looks away with a blush on his cheeks

“Yeah. Gotten married” I laugh, and I keep laughing because the thought of getting married feels so small and childish to the war we’re supposed to be preparing for.

He laughs; rolling laughs that make me keep laughing. My laughs turn short and wheezy before his face straightens, “are you ok? Can you breathe?” His face turns to me and he smiles seeing my smile. It’s a smile that makes my cheeks hurt and heart race.

“As the Prince of the fire nation. I’m supposed to hate you. Because you’ve betrayed our nation. But as Zuko. As your Zuko. In this moment I don’t feel anything but hate. I feel love for you. A fire that I never want to put out” he tells me, scooting closer to me. I let him cradle my face, “I never hated you”

“I never hated you either” a weak laugh escapes me but he kisses me before it truly develops. It’s a kiss that devours me whole, wrapping itself into my heart and soul.

“If we make it through this. Let’s make good on that betrothal”