#scenes from the red high heel

[hoshifighting]

I can do it for you

Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!

You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.

Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.

Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?

Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.

As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.

Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.

As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.

You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.

So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.

With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 

You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.

You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.

"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.

"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.

"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?

With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.

"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.

"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"

You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"

She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"

Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?

You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.

"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"

The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.

As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.

"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.

With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.

And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.

The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.

After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.

As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.

And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.

You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.

With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.

The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.

Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.

Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.

"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.

"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.

The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.

You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.

But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.

Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."

But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.

You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 

You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.

But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.

The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."

Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?

With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.

You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."

Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."

You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.

You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.

The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.

The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."

"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.

He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 

You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.

"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.

He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.

You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.

You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.

You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?

But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."

Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.

"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.

The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.

As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"

He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.

"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"

The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.

Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.

You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.

[...]

As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.

You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.

But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.

Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.

But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.

As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.

You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.

"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"

Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.

"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"

Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.

Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.

As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.

As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.

You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.

You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.

With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.

You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.

"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.

You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."

As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.

Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.

Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.

With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.

s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.

With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 

Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."

You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."

"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.

It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?

You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 

Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.

A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.

You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.

Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.

Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.

As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.

"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"

"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.

After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.

He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.

"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."

Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"

You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.

"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."

Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."

And in minutes, everything happened. 

You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.

As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.

"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 

With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.

You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.

As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.

"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.

"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.

As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation.

"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.

Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"

You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."

And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.

As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing with anticipation.

And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.

You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "I can do whatever you want," he replied, his voice low and husky.

As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. It was something you had written in your wishbook - a cock that fulfills you - but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.

His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you.

"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.

Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Don't worry," he reassured you, his voice husky with desire. "I'll make it fit."

As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and embarrassment wash over you. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter with anticipation.

You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you. You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 

As Mingyu continued to tease you, his words sending shivers of desire down your spine, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."

His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally. You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.

As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.

As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly. "I'm still," he murmured between moans, his voice laced with desire. "You're almost cumming."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your pussy clenching around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.

He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back in sheer ecstasy.

No mercy, just like you wanted.

Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.

"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, don't you?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to form words as pleasure washed over you in waves.

As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling with anticipation as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.

You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you in waves. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.

And then it hit you, like a tidal wave crashing over you with unstoppable force. You came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.

You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.

As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.

But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."

You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."

But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, his voice sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on for me."

As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.

As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance. "I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.

But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of sensation.

You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy.

As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied. Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and cum.

Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.

Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

[luvacookie]

mr steal ur girl.

eren notices an unfamiliar face at one of his frat parties…

❥ warnings : reiner bein a dick, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), nicknames, squirting, porn w a plot, intended use of lower case, mildly proof read, shy-ish reader, black fem coded.

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : my first post, my first aot idea >~< ! idk how people will respond to this. i need to write a lil sum sum for con, i will work on it…

“pleaseee ! you never come out with me! plus you get to be around reiner.”

pieck stared at you through the floor length mirror, adjusting her black skin tight dress as you ignored her and continued to scroll through your phone. as per usual, she was going to one of her parties hosted by her friends and as per usual she was asking you to join her.

normally you declined, opting to stay wrapped up in bed, catching up on one of your hour long k-dramas episodes or looking over work you did in a lecture.

parties were not your scene and they never had been.

“pieck… i don’t know…” you responded sceptically, curling the end of your braid around your finger.

“i can set you up with reiner, he talks about you all the time you know,” pieck said walking over to your bed.

you sighed, you knew she was just using your delusional crush on reiner to lure you in and unfortunately it was working.

you pushed your glasses up, exhaling defeatedly. pieck smiled and clapped her hands together, jumping up from the bed.

“we have to make sure you look cute as fuck so shower, skincare, makeup, whatever you need to do and by time you get out i’ll have a cute fit for you!” she said happily, digging through your clothes.

you hauled yourself out of bed, grabbing your towel and headed to the shower. you cleaned up nicely, freshening yourself up for the party. you put your braids into a half-up half-down with a side parting, laying your edges with a decorative heart.

pieck had picked out a two piece pink set for you with white string heels, you matched your accessories accordingly with pink hair clips and white glasses.

she smiled at you in awe. “you look so fuckin’ good right now! you seriously need to get out more.”

you looked down shyly, “are you sure pie’? this is so out of my zone.”

“oh my god, of course i’m sure, now come on. reiner won’t wait all night,” she giggled.

she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to her convertible, making sure to let the top down so the warm night air hit your faces. the ride there was filled with vibes and giggles, your nerves slowly disappearing.

soon enough you arrived at the frat house, the musics blaring through all the open doors and windows. people were dancing on the lawn, cars pulled up in every direction. pieck dragged you through the crowd, stopping for a couple seconds at a time to say hi to her mutuals.

soon enough you found your way into the kitchen with her where the rest of your friend group was.

“hey guys!” pieck called out over the music and they all greeted her back.

“no fuckin’ way you brought y/n,” connie said, licking his paper and putting the blunt behind his ear.

you waved at him, smiling lightly.

“well damn, who woulda thought,” annie said from beside him, holding a red solo cup.

“she finally managed to convince me soooo…” you trailed off leaning against the counter.

“you look hot though,” sasha commented, a lazy smile on her face as if she was already high.

“mmm, cheers to that,” reiner said from behind you.

you turned around, looking him up and down. he had a simple white tee on that hugged his arms perfectly, a pair of black cargo’s with a silver chain. he handed you a cup and knocked it with yours, tipping the contents of it back.

you stared at him briefly, watching his throat move as he swallowed. you followed shortly after, pulling a face as the liquor burned your throat.

everyone spoke amongst themselves, pieck catching up on all the lost drinks, leaving you and reiner to have a sweet conversation.

“why don’t i see you out enough?” he asked, looking down at you.

you turned your head to the side, the eye contact making your stomach flip, “not really my thing.”

“they should be,” he followed up quickly, “you’re too pretty to be kept hostage in your dorm.”

you looked at him, smiling. “thanks.”

“no problem sweetheart,” he poured himself another drink, refilling yours too.

“you drink a lot?” he asked, sipping on his mix.

“not really, only when i come to these things, which is basically never,” you chuckled lightly, tasting your drink.

“i’m gonna have to force pieck to bring you out more, you’re too fuckin’ pretty darling.”

“rei, stop you’re making me feel shy,” you sighed, looking at him with obvious heart eyes.

he made a noise in his throat, a cocky smirk on his face. “dance with me?”

you stared, your brain slowly registering before you nodded. you turned to pieck, gesturing that you were going with reiner and she gave you a massive thumbs up in encouragement.

reiner took your hand in his and lead you to where the music was the loudest, putting your hands around his neck as his met your waist. he stayed with you like that for the majority of the song, his eyes holding yours.

your acrylics danced at the nape of his neck, as the grip on your waist slowly became tighter. he pulled you close enough for your chests to be touching, forcing you to look up at his height.

“are you even listening ? hellooo?”

“yeah..yeah, who’s that?” eren asked, ignoring whatever armin was saying.

armin looked around, “who?”

“her,” eren said, nodding in your direction.

“oh, y/n l/n. she’s in my english major,” armin said dismissively.

eren nodded, watching how you were slowly grinding on reiner, or realistically how your tits were moving in your dress. he had never seen you before, so how did you know reiner of all people?

as the song ended you pulled reiner down to your height, muttering something to him in which he nodded. you left the room, leaving reiner to join one of his other group of friends, though he didn’t see where you left to as porco joined him and armin.

you returned to the kitchen where connie was left on his own, tapping the ash off his blunt into the sink.

“you and reiner?” he asked, his words slightly slowed.

you poured a shot, smiling to yourself. “maybe. i don’t know.”

you tipped it back as he continued talking to you. “he likes you, you know that right?”

you reapplied your lipgloss, “does he?”

“for real, he talks about you all the time,” he inhaled slowly.

“that’s cute. i like him too,” you smiled at connie.

he exhaled and turned the roll to you, “you smoke?”

“no… i’ve only hit once before,” you admitted, staring at it.

“you don’t wanna hit that shit, probably laced,” came a deep voice from behind you.

you turned to see eren leaning on the door frame, staring at you. he was wearing simple grey sweats and a white tee, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.

“fuck off yaeger,” connie muttered, rolling his eyes, smoke exhaling his mouth with a string of cusses following.

he ignored connie, focusing his attention on you. “you’ve never been to one of these before have you?”

“do i stand out that bad?” you shook your head, the sound of your acrylic tapping the glass following.

eren walked round the counter, pouring himself straight whiskey. “oh you stand out… would’ve remembered your face.”

you tip your head to the side and glance back at connie who stares at you blankly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“means your cute, your boyfriend is lucky,” he comments swiftly.

“my boyfriend ?” you question, toying with the curly end of your braid.

“reiner. i would think so anyways after the way you were dancing with him,” he responds, a glint in his eye as if he was digging for information.

you look up and make eye contact with him. “he’s not my boyfriend—”

“not yet anyways,” connie interrupts.

you felt your face flush, unsure if you had turned a shade of red or not. you shook your head and had another shaky shot, the alcohol seeping it’s way into your bloodstream.

“what’s your name ?” eren asks, sipping vodka straight from the bottle that was left on the counter.

“y/n,” you responded. “don’t worry, i know who you are eren.”

he tipped his head to the side slightly, he liked the way you said his name.

he hummed, continuing his drink when his friend armin entered the room.

“are reiner and annie fucking or something ?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance in his tone.

you turned to look at armin, your heart slightly dropping. “what do you mean ?”

armin looks at you as if he hadn’t registered you were in the room, “n-nothing. just the way they were talkin’ and dancing and shit..”

you were sure you felt your heart drop this time. annie and reiner ? they had never gave an indication that they liked each other.

you looked off to the side, your throat slowly going dry.

connie noticed and sighed. “they like siblings, don’t stress it.”

you nodded, “y-yeah of course, i just need some air or something.”

you used that as your cue to leave, eren’s eyes following your figure as you walked past him towards the back garden.

you were slightly embarrassed, choking up in front of three boys, two of them you barley knew. you sat on a chair in the corner, taking a shallow breath and texting pieck.

y/n : i think i’m ready to cut pie

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : y ? e oksy?

you looked at her message and knew she was drunk, yet she still tried her best to check in on you.

y/n : yh dw abt me imma jus take an uber or smthin

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : olay

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : grt home sfe iky <3333

you sighed and turned your phone off, looking at the people in the garden. you heard giggling and saw reiner and annie trip over one another, clearly having a good time with themselves.

you turned your phone on and scrolled through your missed texts when you felt a person stood behind you. you looked up and saw eren’s green eyes looking at annie and reiner.

“what a prick,” eren sighed, looking down to meet your eyes.

“it’s cool. annie’s better than me by like tenfold so i’m not really shocked,” you responded, dropping your phone in your lap.

“don’t be fuckin’ dumb, reiner’s a blind asshole. he always has been,” he comforted you. “here.”

he handed you his lit joint and you took a hesitant hit, careful not to get lipgloss all over the paper.

eren watched you as you exhaled into the air, swallowing nothing. “you good?”

you nodded, “ ‘m good.”

you guys stayed like that for a while, exchanging useless comments and smoking. eren was glad that your mood had been lifted. at some point you had ended up back in the kitchen with your group of friends, high and definitely drunk.

pieck had everyone do body shots off of her stomach and made you dance round the counter like an idiot, something you were too drunk to question.

“where’d you go?” reiner’s voice said from behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

you tensed uncomfortably, though reiner was far too gone to notice. you wriggled out of his grasp, turning around to look at him. “s-sorry, i ended up getting distracted by eren and connie.”

eren nodded at whatever words mikasa was saying, his eyes focusing on the way reiner was forcing a conversation after abandoning you to fuck around with annie.

“yaeger? what were you doing with that bastard ?” reiner said, ignoring the way you rubbed your arm rather nervously.

“n-nothing, we was jus’ talking and shi—”

“fuck that, don’t hang around with that kid,” reiner cut you off, staring at you rather annoyed.

“reiner, i’m sorry he just—”

“why shouldn’t she hang around with me ? i’d say i’m a pretty fun time,” eren said lazily, sitting on the counter beside you.

reiner glared at him, “don’t start your bullshit with me yaeger.”

“i’d say you’re starting problems with me braun, tellin’ pretty girls they should steer clear,” he responded.

eren looked unbothered whereas reiner had become rather agitated.

he ignored reiner, turning to you, “wanna go some where else ?”

you looked at reiner then at eren before nodding, following his lead and taking his hand as he lead you somewhere else.

“fuckin’ hell. rei just got his bitch stolen by yaeger,” porco muttered, reiner still heard it.

“you good princess?” eren mumbled, the sound of his door clicking shut.

“mhm, thank you,” you responded from his desk, untying your heels as he pushed himself up on his bed.

“for what?” he asked pointedly, his eyes locking with yours.

“the reiner thing—”

“anybody with working brain cells could see that you were uncomfortable, i was just helping out,” he dismissed, his hands resting behind his head.

you nodded, holding eye contact with him. the room went silent, the only sound being the tapping of your acrylics against the wood of his desk.

eren sighed, patting the cover of his bedsheets. “c’mere, you too far away.”

you let out a little laugh, hopping off his desk and standing in front of him. he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you on top of him, settling yourself on his hips. he was less than bother by the sudden added weight of your own body, his hands meeting the side of your thighs.

“you really are mad pretty,” he mumbled, squeezing the fat of your thighs that was closer to your ass.

you exhaled, turning your head to try and hide your smile. he grabbed your face and turned it back to him, his eyes hooded with lust.

you stared at him and your eyes dropped to his lips and unfortunately for you, he didn’t miss it. you took a deep breath and leaned forward, encasing eren’s lips in yours.

his hands instantly moved to your ass, squeezing roughly. he kissed you back hard, pushing his hips upwards.

your hands travelled to the back of his hair, your acrylics burying themselves in the nape of his neck. he sat up properly so he could flip you over, a shear display of his strength.

he bit at the bottom of your lip, taking advantage of the whine you let out to slip his tongue into your mouth. his hands wondered down the front of your top, though he pulled away, inspecting your face.

“why’d you stop ?” you mumbled, your eyes darting towards his swollen lips.

“nothin’, just checking to see if you’re actually sober. you alright with this though ?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, tugging at his hoodie.

he laughed. “you’re a desperate thing aren’t you.”

“eren, please,” you mumbled, pulling him forwards with more force.

“fuck. whatever you want princess,” he groaned, grabbing you by the neck and pulling you into a deeper kiss than before.

you moaned quietly as he untied the front of your shirt, revealing your lacy white bra.

“please tell me you weren’t wearing this for reiner,” he begged, rubbing on your tits.

you shook your head. “thank fuck for that.”

he pulled your skirt off, revealing your matching set, throwing the skirt somewhere in his room.

“fuck sake, y/n,” he muttered, eyes trailing the whole of your body.

you tugged at his zipper, “off, i want it off.”

he unzipped his hoodie with a chuckle, removing his shirt too, revealing his muscles. “makin’ demands now ?”

you rolled your eyes and pulled him back in for another heated kiss, your hands trailing down his body and palming his dick through his grey bottoms. he groaned, kissing you harder as you continued to stroke his growing hard-on through the material.

he pulled away and began kissing down your neck, leaving deep hickies as he went down, kissing all the way down your stomach till he got to the top of your lace thong.

he made eye contact with you as he placed a light kiss on your cover clit, watching as your mouth slightly dropped open. he pulled your panties down, stuffing them in his pocket whilst he rubbed on your clit with slow circles.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now angel. did you know that?” he asked, continuing with his agonisingly slow circles.

“mm fuck, eren, please—” you whined, your hands gripping his sheets.

“please what princess?” he teased, watching your body squirm under his touch.

you whined even louder. “fuck, i want more—” you cut yourself off with a shallow moan as he dipped his middle finger inside of you briefly before pulling it out.

“more what?” he teased.

you looked at him with round glossy eyes, “please eat me out.”

“that’s all you had to say princess,” he laughed, finally giving you what you wanted.

his tongue made contact with your clit and he licked eagerly, making his middle and ring finger stretch you out nicely.

“gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready for my dick hm,” he mumbled on your clit, sucking on it roughly.

you babbled incoherent sentences, scratching as far as your hands could reach down his shoulders. your moans gradually increased in volume as his slender fingers worked your insides deliciously, finding that soft spot your own couldn’t reach with ease.

“f-fuck eren— feels so fuckin’ good,” you moaned gripping on his sheets harder.

just as you could feel your orgasm approaching, you could feel your phone vibrate beside you.

pieck was calling you, your thighs began to close but eren forced them back open. “answer it.”

“b-but—”

“i said answer it and be quiet.”

you looked at him before doing as he said, his fingers working harder than before.

“y/nnnn! where did you gooooo?” pieck shouted down the phone.

“i-i went with— mm-fuck, eren—” you struggled, pulling at eren’s hand.

“to do whatttt? you guys are missing the party” she yelled, giggling shortly after.

you struggled to hold back a moan as eren sucked more feverishly on your clit, “ ‘m s-sorry pie’, w-we’ll be — fuckfuck— we’ll be b-back soon.”

pieck stayed silent on the other side for a moment. “ohmygodyouanderenarefucking?!”

eren laughed, the vibrations on your clit causing you to let a loud whine slip past your mouth, one pieck definitely heard.

“OHMYGOD YOU ARE! GUYSGUYS EREN AND Y/N ARE—”

you hung up on her and threw your phone on the floor some where, focusing back on eren. “that is y-your fault.”

he pulled up and looked at you, the lower half of his face covered in your slick. “i told you to be quiet princess.”

you rolled your eyes as he continued finger fucking you, his tongue slipping to your hole every now and again.

a strange feeling built up in your stomach, making you push him away by his shoulders. “mm— eren wait, f-feels like ‘m gonna—”

his dick twitched at the thought of you squirting from him eating your pussy, so he pushed your hands away. “stop, let me finish.”

“no— eren—”

he grabbed your arms with his free hand and held them to your side, licking at your clit more needly as he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers. “i got you princess.”

you moaned loudly and the clear liquid drenched your thighs and his sheets, eren’s fingers still working you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck, eren— please—” you moaned desperately, tears sliding down the side of your face as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut.

“give me one more, i know you can y/n,” he mumbled, pulling your thighs open as his fingers working faster, grazing your soft spot every time.

you shook your head, feeling your second orgasm approaching harder than the first one.

“fuckfuckfuck, eren please—” you came around his fingers a second time, moaning loudly.

“there you fucking go,” eren smirked, feeling your cunt squeeze him. he slipped his fingers out and kissed your clit gently before coming back up to kiss you.

“you okay princess?” he asked quietly, looking you in your eyes.

you nodded lazily, fucked out from the two orgasms he gave you. “ ‘m good.”

“good cause i’m not done with you yet,” he exhaled, kissing you again.

he pulled his bottoms down, revealing his white calvin klein boxers that hugged his straining dick.

“this is your fault,” he said mimicking the words you said to him earlier.

you ignored him and palmed at his dick, feeling it twitch under the contact. you pulled his boxers down and let it free, continuing to rub it bare.

“fuckk—” he groaned, “shit, let me get a condom—”

“i’m clean,” you interjected, “and on birth control.”

eren looked slightly taken back. “are you sure ?”

you nodded desperately, “i need you please—”

“well shit. i’m clean too don’t worry,” he reassured you.

you nodded and continued rubbing his dick.

he moaned lowly before grabbing your face, “open.”

you opened your mouth and he stuck his fingers down your throat, the same ones that had been inside you.

he pulled them out and rubbed them on his dick, mixing your spit and his pre-cum.

next time i’ll have to get head, he thinks to himself before lining his dick up with your cunt. you moan loudly as the tip slowly pushed past your pillowy walls, hugging eren tightly.

“shit—” eren cussed as he felt your nails dig into his bicep, “you’re never fuckin’ getting rid of me princess.”

he bottomed out, making you whimper. he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his length. he watched your face for any signs of discomfort before slowly moving in and out of your cunt.

“fuck eren— you feel- so good—” you babbled incoherently, clawing deep marks down his back.

he nodded, lifting your leg to put it over his shoulder to get a better angle. he increased his speed, rubbing at your clit, making you squeeze his cock.

his hips stuttered. “stop doing that, gonna make me cum.”

“i want you to cum in me though,” you said, looking at him through your lashes.

eren scoffed and went deeper, thanks to the angle his tip kept assaulting your sweet spot.

you whimpered, “fuck eren— gonna cum—”

“no you’re not. hold it,” he grunted, gripping your hips and pulling you down to meet his base.

“eren,” you whined.

his pacing slowed down, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he neared his high.

“fuck— princess, i’m gonna cum—” he muttered into your ankle, nibbling slightly.

you squeezed around him at the sensations. he let out a deep moan, his cum painting the insides of your pussy white.

you came as you felt him empty inside of you, digging a crescent shape into his back.

“f-fuck,” you mumbled, watching him pull his dick out.

you whined at the empty feeling, though eren chose to ignore it. “imma be back.”

he picked his boxers up from the floor and pulled them on, walking to his bathroom. he walked out with a warm cloth, gently wiping the insides of your thigh.

“is your back okay? i noticed all the scratches and some were kinda bleeding…” you said sympathetically.

“don’t worry about me, i’ve had worse,” he smiled.

when he finished he put it on his desk and walked back over to you, kissing you gently.

“you good princess?”

you nodded dazed, causing eren to chuckle. he pulled you up and helped you get dressed, allowing you to fix your makeup and hair.

when you left his bedroom the party was still full swing, people dancing and drinking.

“ayeee ! there they are,” porco called out, clapping eren on the back when he sat next to him.

you were about to walk off to sit with pieck and sasha when eren grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.

you looked at him confused when he muttered in your ear. “didn’t i tell you you’re never getting rid of me ?”

you were sure this time you were blushing, especially when he kissed the dark hickey on your neck.

“alright, we get it, you fucked, get a room,” sasha fake gagged, giggling after.

eren made eye contact with reiner. “she won’t be able to walk next time we get a room.”

[buckyalpine]

Edit to add: thought it saved with tw, non con, dark winter soldier

I wanna fuck the beefy winter soldier who uses me like a sex doll, just a hole to fuck. I want him to shove it in whenever he wants, fully focused on pleasuring his dick and nothing else. He’s chasing that pleasure at the tip of his pink cock that feels so good, grunting and groaning, wide touch hands holding you down in place.

Imagine he comes to finish a mission, breaking into a large mansion in the middle of the night only to find no ones home except the sweet little maid, still dressed in her tiny uniform, finishing up in the master bedroom.

You freeze on the spot, ready to beg him to spare your life as he shut the door behind him, swiftly locking it. He's programed to kill but you're evoking something new inside him. He feels pressure between his legs, his cock aching with need, a new desperate desire he needs to quench.

You know that scene with the red henley, his thick, muscular body throwing others around with 0 effort. I want that but with no clothes on. Clothes make his body feel too hot. He takes it all off when he stalks over to you, rock hard cock bobbing between his legs when he grabs and throws you over his shoulder. He might as well be an animal, precum dripping from the head down to the floor from your smell alone.

He’s absolutely unhinged.

Hasn’t had an orgasm in years.

Nearly nonverbal as he gets ready to take what he wants.

Your heart races, too scared to cry while he shoves your legs apart, groaning at your sweet scent. He tears your clothes off with his bare hands before experimentally pumping his cock, moaning at the bit of relief it gives him.

He needs more.

"P-Please-please no-Oh God!" You cry out as he shoves his cock in with one swift motion, pounding you with no remorse, grunting and panting, inhaling the scent of your perfect and something distinctly you as he snarls against your neck.

It feels so good, the serum in his veins making his cock swell with each thrust, thick drops of precum already marking you from the inside. His sole focus is to get rid of the achy feeling in his dick by using you, wanting to stop the heavy feeling in his balls. They're too heavy, too swollen, too full, it fucking hurts and your cunt feels so good, wrapped around his cock.

He moans louder with each thrust, pleasure licking up his spine, your needy little squeals just adding to how good it all feels. He loves the sting of your nails scratching down his arms, your tight pussy quivering and fluttering around him.

He sits back on his heels to watch the sight of his cock going in and out, your sensitive button throbbing between your legs. He gives it a flick, fucking you harder when he realizes touching you there makes you scream. He flicks and rubs at it wildly, loving how much tighter you get when he does that.

He gives you no warning when he pulls out and manhandles you till your face is pushed into the mattress with your ass high in the air, his cock reaching a much deeper angle in this position. He grabs onto your hips with both hands and slams you to meet the sharp snap of his hips, muttering something in a language you don't understand.

You can tell he's close, feeling him harden further inside you, his pace starting to falter. He's panting harder, head thrown back feeling that release get closer and closer. He gives you a final harsh thrust before burring himself in as deep as he could go, letting out a deep guttural moan as he starts to spill into you, his hot cum pouring out endlessly.

He wants to stop but he can't, waves of pleasure continuing to wash over him each time he thinks he's almost done, letting your body go limp while he flops on top and practically ruts and humps himself until he's finally soft and spent. He pulls out, searing the sight of his seed dripping out to memory before throwing his clothes back on. The empty feeling makes you whimper.

"moya khoroshaya devochka" [my good girl] he murmurs before leaving, already deciding he's ready to go rogue just to add this location to his list of places to revisit.

-

This wasn't meant to be part of the story but imagine he does come back to take what he wants and you let him. A few weeks later you feel insanely nauseous, throwing up every time you eat, exhausted and constantly wanting to nap.

When he sneaks in again, your scent in different and he knows. You're confused when he doesn't ravish you. Instead he wordlessly puts his hand on your belly. You look at him with confusion, especially when he picks you up softly and puts you to bed instead, keeping his hand back on your tummy.

"nash malysh" [our baby] he says softly and slowly, hoping you'd understand. Of course you quickly piece it together, only snapping out of your shock feeling his cold metal hand cup your cheek.

He makes love to you that night.

He's not sure why. He knows he has to be gentle with you. He should end you, end this mess before it goes any further but its too late. He's soft and slow. He holds you close and moves with such care, giving you deep thrusts with the roll of his hips. He lets his hands lace with yours, pinning you against the bed, squeezing them comfortingly as if to let you know he's not going anywhere.

He knows he doesn't have a lot of time. You'll be showing soon.

He'll figure something out.

Idk why tf I can't just write fics with the winter soldier where he fucks and leaves. It always ends with some stupid fluff which I didn't intend to add.

[cozymaples]

total eclipse (steve harrington x reader)

a/n: ohhh man. this is a long one, but do i have a treat for you. with the weather getting colder i just...could not contain myself !!! brain go brrrr. literally! | (tags: @madtheivery) warnings: afab!reader, virgin!reader, friends to lovers, oral!f receiving, fingering word count: 3.4k

Steve doesn’t like you.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Because if he lies to himself this way, it’s half true. He loves you. He’s not sure which is harder to ignore-the strain of his cock in his jeans whenever he sees you, or the way his heart feels like it’s going to pummel out of his chest when you leave. So now, he’s been at this party for far too long, marinating between a sea of bodies that he can’t seem to push through; only to try and find you. 

You’re making it difficult, though-lodged into the side of your boyfriend. Well, sort-of-boyfriend.

His hand rests firmly on your shoulder, the cheering and hollering of his winning cup in beer pong only tugging you further into him. You smile uncomfortably, jostled around as he earns slaps on the back and high-fives from his teammates. 

Steve can only watch from afar, finally parting through the sea of people. He sighs to himself amongst the ruckus, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before rubbing his temples. It’s subtle, but you notice. What’s better-the fact that your boyfriend doesn’t seem to. To ease any suspicions of him checking in on you, he keeps Robin glued to his side at all times. Though, it’s an equal split down the middle of eagerness to accompany the other. The pair hardly went anywhere alone, and you think it’s kind of sweet. Robin clearly needs Steve’s help of being a ‘ladies man’, and Steve clearly needs Robin’s help for the opposite. Which is why she tugs at his sleeve, tsk-ing before sighing loudly. Steve clears his throat, an immediate turn of the heel as he looks at her. He gestures defensively to the scene in front of him, before raking his fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t gonna say anything-” He starts. “Yeah, that’s the problem, Harrington!” Robin whines, verbally smacking the back of his head. “Wake up! You seriously think she looks happy to be with that beast?” Steve averts his gaze from Robin once more, glancing over his shoulder to look at you. He thinks Robin’s choice of word beast is harsh, but as he watches you get tugged around through second-party celebration, he can’t help but agree. 

“No!” He whines, finally succumbing to Robin’s antics. “Okay? No! Of course she’s not!” He sighs with defeat, running his fingers through his hair again, brows scrunched with frustration. Robin chuckles, “Jesus, that hair is like a stress ball for you, huh?” He narrows his gaze, paired with an eye roll as he indulges in her amusement. “Yeah, yeah. Alright. What’s your point?” He asks. But he knows what her point is. Her point is-”That you need to tell her! You could be changing lives, Harrington! Think about it,” She starts, and he groans, accepting the speech that’s about to come. “You could love her, I mean, really cherish her,” She says, and she’s not wrong. Her arm snakes over his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. Her spare hand nurses a red solo cup, the drink sloshing against the sides as she uses her hand to gesture. “I mean, he’s gonna make her a trophy wife. And you know what happens to trophies, Steve?” He’s not sure where she’s going with this, but he humors her anyway. It’s as if she can hear his brows raise with curiosity, immediately continuing. “They get left on shelves, Harrington. Filled with lonesome and littered with dust, too damn useless now to remember what they were good for in the first place!” She finishes. His eyes widen. 

Shit. 

He can’t believe that Robin’s analogy has not only made sense, but now kicked his ass into high gear. A trophy? A trophy? Not on his watch. Not to be collected by dust, or gawked at by others. No. Not you. He decides, not realizing he’s made his way across the room, now standing directly in front of you. Your “boyfriend” has now parted from your side, and your brows raise with curiosity, but also surprise. “Hey..” You say, wondering if Steve even knows where he is, considering you haven’t spoken in two months. “Hey,” He retorts nervously, nodding once. “So, uh..where’s your boyfriend?” He asks. You chuckle at the notion, but you can’t really blame him for wondering. “He’s not my boyfriend.” You say, and Steve gets that look in his eye-the one that only surfaces when he’s genuinely surprised. You hold eye contact for a minute, gazes locked on each other as his features soften. “Oh.” He says, and there’s no snark to it. You can tell he wants further clarification, but minds his manners, which you love about him. 

Unbeknownst to him, the ‘love’ thing going on was definitely a two way street. And now, for the first time, you don’t want him to think it’s a dead end for him. Not a second longer. “He hasn’t been..ever.” You say, and as the words tumble out of your mouth, you hear the truth in them for the first time. They hold weight now, standing in front of Steve, whose eyes haven’t left you for a second. Your back is firm against the wall behind you, the bustling of partygoers that had once swarmed you now sounding like white noise. “We were just..” You shrug, sheepish of the words you want to say. “..Fucking.” You say, quickly clarifying as his eyes widen with despondency. “But not actually-I mean, that’s what he tells people.” You’re fully engrossed in it now, the regret and disgust enveloping you in an embrace that you don’t want. “Never exclusive, considering he was fucking half of the cheerleaders,” You say, knowing that you trust Chrissy as your source. “I just..didn’t wanna go all the way. Not with him.” You decide that’s enough rambling, sparing him the details of what you did to compromise in place of sex. Steve extends his hand, an offering he’s hoping, pleading silently that you’ll take. You know if you take it, this is the end of everything you’ve known, and the start of everything you want. “Come with me,” He asks, voice soft, tender. “Please,”

And that’s how you’ve ended up sitting in the backseat of Steve’s BMW, filling him in on the past two months. “I was just..settling. I knew what I wanted, but..I just didn’t think to take it.” You confess, feeling every thump of your heartbeat ripping through your chest. It aches, yearning for the man in front of you. The silence between sentences is heavy, both of you terrified to spill to the other-terrified that if you speak now, it’ll all be for nothing. That it won’t be the same. “What did you want?” Steve asks, clinging to every word you say as though it’s oxygen itself. You feel a lump rise in your throat, threatening to tear out if you don’t speak now. Steve hasn’t touched you, not laid a hand on you this entire conversation. “You.” You exhale,, the years of everything you could ever want to say to him now fastened into a single word. Your heart rate increases rapidly, and you feel like you’re going to pass out if he doesn’t say something. The bellowing of drunken teenagers belting Total Eclipse of the Heart escapes from the four walls of the house, despite the fact that Steve’s got you parked halfway down the street. “Me?” He asks, hoping, praying that you mean it. You swallow harshly, nodding. “You.” You confirm, terrified that years of friendship on the invisible string you’ve tied between the two of you, sealed by fate itself, will snap. Wondering now more than ever if you’ve somehow misinterpreted every interaction between the two of you; every lingering gaze, every comforting shoulder he gave you cry on. Steve rushes his palm to your cheek, cupping your face as he presses his lips to yours. It’s deep, and tender, like you’ve allowed him to finally breathe again, as though he never has before in his entire life. 

“God,” He breathes, murmuring the phrase against your lips. “I love you,” He says, and it punches the air out of your lungs. The teenagers continue their belting. “I love you,” You confess, and it bursts out of you, finally able to say what you’ve been dying to say for years. Your ‘I love you’s’ tumble out of both of you, overlapping between the kisses he’s pressing to you, over and over, and over. The soft giggling that you share between the two of you is innocent, nearly in disbelief that this kind of happiness can possibly be real. Your lips are swollen, cherried red from the amount of kisses he’s graced you with. His hand rakes through your locks, and you lean into the touch, gazing up at him dreamily. 

“Be with me.” He says. You stare back at him. “Be with me,” He repeats, his thumb stroking your cheek. You sit in disbelief. “Yes,” You say, terrified. He can sense your nerves, soothing you with a gentle kiss. “M’not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” He assures you, gently tilting your head to the side by your jaw. “Now that I’ve got you,” He says, spoken between kisses. They line your jaw, traveling down your neck. “I love you so bad,” He coos, and you sigh with satisfaction. You wish his kisses lingered longer, feeling your stomach flip with lust-but you don’t want to ruin the moment. Don’t want him to think of you the way other guys have. “Always have,” He continues. You try to ignore the warmth in the pit of your stomach, yearning for his touch. It’s as if he reads your mind, continuing to cradle your jaw in his palm as he sucks gentle marks into the flesh of your neck. “Is this okay?” He asks, earning a soft moan from you. “Uh-huh,” You breathe, and he pauses. “Yes,” You assure him, and he continues. 

Steve, too, doesn’t want to treat you like any other man has. He never will. He’ll treat you better. The best. He knows it. Now, all he needs to do is show you. You take his free hand, slowly guiding it to your knee. It’s bare, your skirt hiked up from the way you’re angled in the backseat. He pulls back to look at you, pupils widened, hesitant. “Wanna take it slow,” He says, and you sigh. “Wanna take care of you.” He says, rubbing gentle circles into your knee. You don’t know what to say, or how to say what you want to. But you figure this is your chance to prove to him that you don’t want it to be like every other guy. He’s special. “You know how I told you that..nothing ever happened, between me and him?” He nods, humming softly. “It’s..never happened. Not with anyone.” His thumb halts, the circles he’d been tracing now stopping in their tracks as the silence lingers between you, the hum of the running engine in the background. Steve’s not an asshole-not one of those guys who obsesses over virginity, “deflowering” whoever they get their hands on. But he’s gentle, wanting to handle you with care. Because you’re special to him. Because he loves you. “Oh,” He says, that same look of surprise from the party gracing his features. You can tell he’s not judging you, or surprised that you haven’t done anything. He’s just…surprised. “Yeah..” You trail off, and he grins lightheartedly. “And you want me to..in the back of this shitty car?” You exhale a laugh through your nose, raising you brows for a moment. “No, but..I want to. With you.” 

So, that’s how you end up in Steve’s bed, the clock on his bedside table reading 2:23 a.m. His head is delved between your thighs, working his mouth tantalizingly on your clit. His shoulders shelve your legs, holding you steady under your thighs. “Steve, please-” You writhe, unsure of what you’re even asking for. You just know that you want more. “Soon, baby.” He promises, his voice muffled into the plush of your thighs, pressing kisses along them every time he needs to speak. He’s intentionally taking his time, basking in all the experiences he’s  getting to show you. How good he’s going to get to make you feel. “My pretty baby.” He coos, tongue working against your pussy once more. You throw your head back, tugging at the locks of his hair, gasping and panting as moans spill from your lips. He wants to take his time with you-find out what makes you tick. So far, he’s gathered that marking you and working his lips against your clit makes your head spin. But he wants to know more-wants to know everything. 

“Want you inside-” You beg, finally casting your gaze downward upon him. Before he looks up at you, all you can see is tousled chestnut waves,tightened by your grip, broad shoulders, and large palms. “Can’t take all of me yet, baby,” He says, your pussy clenching at his tone. It’s almost condescending, and your brain goes fuzzy registering all of the experience that he has. “Gotta work you open first.” He pulls his face from between your thighs, pressing his thumb gently to your clit, working delicate circles into it as he looks up at you. “Think you can take my fingers, honey?” He asks. Your brows are furrowed with desperation, soaking up every ounce of pleasure he grants you. You hold onto it, not wanting him to take it away from you. “Yeah,” You urge, nodding. And even if there’s a little dishonesty His gaze harbors caution, not wanting to go too hard on you. He gently slides a finger inside of you, causing you to hiss through your teeth. “Too much?” He quickly asks, and you shake your head. “No, no-just-keep it there for a second,” You urge, the muscles in your stomach tightening with anticipation. It hurts, but only a little. Still, you need to let yourself adjust. You quickly do, the pain subsiding, melting into pleasure as you finally adjust to his size.

 He continues, finally working two fingers into you. He’s been knuckles deep in you for a while now, his mouth sucking gently on your clit to ease any discomfort. Your head feels dizzy, and all you can focus on is the pleasure he’s granting you. No one’s ever taken care of you like this before, and he’s urged you to just feel it. To just feel good, and not focus on anything else; just the sound of his voice. He finally climbs up from between your legs, hovering over you as his forearms rest on the mattress. “I love you.” He says, honestly. You nod in agreement, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. “I love you.” And in this moment, you know it’s forever; that everything you had gone through to get right to this moment was worth it-that it all had a purpose. He slides his cock along your entrance, gliding into you slowly. You hiss between through your teeth, and he quickly reaches for your hand. “You’re okay, baby-right?” He assures you, but he’s also asking. You’ve never seen someone balance the scales so well. “M’okay,” You nod. “Promise.” He continues, “S’the same as my fingers, baby.” He explains; soothes. You can tell by the way his breath shudders; he’s having a hard time keeping it together, that it’s taking everything in his power to not pound into you-to watch your eyes roll back into your head, all because of him. But, he’s a gentleman. “It’ll go away-feel good.” You start to feel yourself adjust, just like how you did his fingers. A moan slips from your mouth, a sign for him to finally move. “Move,” You plead, and his eyes light up. Not because he gets to fuck you, but because you’re okay. “Yeah?” He asks, his breath hitching in his throat.

 He starts slow at first, studying your features, still on that journey to find out what makes you tick. “M’gonna be gentle, honey. ‘Kay?” He nods, and you return the motion. “Wanna see-” He starts, slowly lifting your leg up. His frame leans into yours as he does so, his cock reaching deeper inside of your pussy. “Oh-” You gasp, moaning softly as he hits that spot inside of you. A spot only he could reach, and the only one who ever has. “There.” He notes, chestnut hair falling to frame his face. He can’t help the smug grin that tugs onto his features, tongue-in-cheek as he looks down at you. Your pussy is dripping, and you can’t take it anymore-tortured from the foreplay he’d given you. “Please, God-Steve. Want you to move, please fuck me-please-” You say, nearly babbling. He nods, soothing you as he hushes you. “Shhh, alright. Alright, baby.” He chuckles, and he moves his hips, his broad shoulders shelving your leg that he’s got ahold of. He keeps it steady, wrapping his arm around it as he fucks into you. Harder, and faster. Moans start to pour from your mouth, and you’re unable to contain any sounds that you make because of him. “Yeah, that’s it.” He praises, fucking into you harder. He doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second, reading any and every facial expression that you make. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly, feeling his cock slide in and out of you. It’s like nothing you’ve felt before..ever.

”Yes-fuck-” Your brows furrow, scrunching together as you feel a warmth build in the pit of your stomach. He’d denied you an orgasm with his mouth, and his fingers, so you’d be ready to completely unravel for him. Any time you felt like you were getting close, he’d stop. You’d wondered why, until now. “Wanna see you. Wanna see your face when I give you your first.” Your head lulls back as you moan for him, tugging at his biceps, needing him closer. You’re nearly skin to skin, his hair hanging forward as it brushes against your forehead with each thrust.Your leg is still lifted, just bent now, causing your stomach to bunch with rolls as he presses his chest into you. “Come on, honey.” He coos. “Come for me.” It’s the first orgasm you’ve had that wasn’t by your own hand; finally by the hand you’d wanted it to be all along. You pant beneath him, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as you come undone for him. Your cheeks flush pink, rosied and fucked-out as your nails dig into the flesh of his biceps. “Uh-huh, there it is.” He chuckles, feeling his own orgasm approaching. You’d been on birth control for all sorts of reasons that..had nothing to do with sex. Until now. “Come in me,” You say, nodding rapidly. His jaw goes slack, shuddering gently at your words. “Can’t say things like that, baby. Can’t-” “M’on the pill, Steve-please,” You beg, “Promise, I love you.” Something shifts in Steve, and his full weight rests on top of you, pounding relentlessly into your pussy. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, sloppily sucking hickies into the flesh, leaving purple bruises in their wake. “I fuckin’ love you.” He breathes, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. He’s still holding your hand, finally spilling over inside of you. His moans are staggered, jolting out of him as he finally regulates his breathing, rolling over beside you as he pulls himself from you. He immediately pulls you into his side, feeling the fresh linen sheets bunch up beneath you both. Your eyes have adjusted to the moonlit room, studying his features in the dark as he looks at you. He’s lovestricken, doe-eyed with a wide grin on his features. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” He says, and you roll your eyes with sweet embarrassment. “Stop! No you were not-” You tease, laughing softly. “I was-!” He retorts, brushing stray hairs out of your face as he smiles. “Always have been.” You stop your laughter, feeling it melt into a soft grin as you bask in the moment of his confessions. “And so have I.” You say. He pulls your face to him, pressing his lips to your forehead. You sigh with relief into his arms, feeling yourself doze off as he murmurs against your flesh, knowing that forever starts tonight. “Always will be.” 

[harmfulb1tch]

How about a Coryo fic where he and reader had a thing before the 10th Games but after everything happened and Coryo went to 12, reader got engaged to someone else maybe Festus or someone??? Coriolanus comes back and tries to get reader back and idk how that goes 🙏🏽

Fallen Rose Petals

Part 2

Summary: he came back, but you were married to another.

Warnings: Angst (happy ending), fluff and suggestive smut (nothing graphic)

A/N: I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but I added a bit of softness because I was in the mood ok??? Please suggest More Coriolanus snow fanfics if you want to, the requests are open!

He came back. He came back just for you. He searched for you in every corner of the Capitol. And he found you, he really did. You were sitting in a café, beautiful red and black dress draped on your body, the white rose he gave you before he left to district 12 pinned to your dress just above your heart. You looked content. You hadn’t seen him yet as he approached you, but something didn’t feel right. Something felt different. He kept approaching you until he saw something shiny on your finger, a golden band with an enormous rock on the center.

Festus Creed came out of the café with a strawberry croissant covered in powdered sugar, you favorite. He hugged you and started kissing your neck in the middle of the street. You looked horrified, embarrassed and even disgusted, but Coriolanus was just seeing red. You looked to the side trying to get away from you husband, and saw the blonde man of your dreams walking away. You gently tried to push you husband away but when that didn’t result effective, you practically shoved him to the side, trying to run after him. You high heel’s retrained you from running, as if it was a sign that he was already gone and you were to live the rest of your life with Festus.

Truth be told, you never wanted to marry Festus. He was arrogant and, frankly, you hated him. You parents on the other hand decided that you had to marry someone of influence and money who could “take care of you”. You always thought Coriolanus Snow was going to be that man, but your parents had other plans.

“Corio!” You called after him like your life depended on it, but to no avail, he never turned back. You dropped to the floor dramatically, as tears stained your face and destroyed the make up you were wearing.

When Coriolanus arrived home, he immediately shut the door of his bedroom harshly behind him, ignoring the comments of concern coming from Tigris and his Grandma’am. After that, in a fit of rage, he started shouting and trashing his bedroom. He threw things against the walls and off the shelves. He felt absolutely blind with rage. After all this years of him waiting for you during his exile, thinking about you even in his sleep and fantasizing about your life together once he came back and had you in his arms. Now, all of that became a fantasy of the past.

The first thing you did after all that, was run towards the street and call your driver to take you to Coriolanus’ childhood home. You knew where it was because all of the time you had spent there during your time at the Academy together. When you arrived, you knocked on the door.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Tigris said as she opened the door of the house, unaware of the situation that had taken place.

“Hi! Is Corio here? I need to talk to him, it’s urgent” you said rushed, filled with anxiety.

“Uh… yeah he’s in his room. But um.. I don’t think it’s a good time-“ you cut her mid sentence brushing passed her and rushing towards his bedroom. You knocked three times but there was no answer. You then proceeded to open the door.

The sight in front of you was miserable. You knew Corio never looked vulnerable in front of others, so you had never seen him like that in your whole life. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, with his back to the door. He had his head draped on his hands, hunching over the side. You could hear him softly crying. This scene was so unlike him you didn’t think it was truly him. Everything around him was completely wrecked, which wasn’t unusual for him and you had seen his outbursts before.

You softly walked towards him, and placed a hand on his shoulder softly as to not startle him. You didn’t know if he knew it was you, or if he thought it was just his cousin. You draped your arm over his shoulders and placed your face on his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He said harshly, moving away from your touch.

“Corio…” you said in a soft tone, just above a whisper “I’m sorry…”

“WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR HUH?! FOR BEING A TRAITOR?! YOU COULDN’T KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS AND WAIT FOR ME?!” He started shouting at you as he stood up, making you feel small and weak sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Corio-“

“Don’t call me that”

“It wasn’t like that. I was waiting for you! My father arranged the marriage not me” At this point, you had started crying and felt absolutely horrible for something that wasn’t even your fault “Please Corio… you have to believe me…”

You knew Corio wasn’t likely to forgive you. But in a small moment of vulnerability caused by a crack in his heart, he placed his hand on your chin and made you look up at him. He loved you this way, beneath him, vulnerable, always so open to his touch. He then cupped you face with the same hand, you leaned into his touch, still crying, while he softly wiped a tear from you face.

“I love you Corio, and I missed you. I’m glad you’re back” you said smiling softly.

“I love you too, petal. And I missed you so much…” this was extremely weird for him, but you appreciated it. He proceeded to kiss you with so much hunger and lust, you got lightheaded.

This was what felt correct. Your kisses with Festus never held passion or love. When you kissed Corio, it was as if you heart exploded in a million pieces. You felt like putty.

When the kiss ended you hugged him and cried in arms. He could tell you weren’t happy in your marriage and that you were forced into it. For the next few hours he held you close to him and made love to you like you deserved. He knew Festus didn’t fuck you as good as he did.

Then, you had to go home. You were about to leave through the door when he turned you around, pressed you against the door and once again tilted your head upwards to look at him.

“I will convince your parents for you to leave that scumbag. I have the money now to give you the life you deserve, petal. I promise” with that he yet again kissed you possessively and let you go, pushing aside his jealousy, only because he knew he would end up having you as his wife.

[lewisvinga]

carmen | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; y/n was addicting to everyone, the boys and the girls. lando was just another one in her path to become ultimately addicted.

warnings; mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, reader is sometimes referred to as carmen by others

notes; lana ate w carmen

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

f1 masterlist !

“Who is that?”

“Carmen?” Max questions after Lando had gestured to a girl standing by Lewis. Her long blown-out hair, the red dress, and the matching red lip immediately caught Lando’s attention when they stepped into the club to celebrate their podium.

“Her name is Carmen? Like George’s girlfriend?”

“Not really, it’s Y/n, but many people call her Carmen,” Max shrugs. “She’s friends with Lewis though, I see her often in these kinds of scenes. Quite popular in Monaco.”

“Really?” Lando questions with a raised eyebrow. “Never heard of her.”

“Yeah, good. Everyone, they all like Carmen, obsessed with her even.” The Dutch driver began as they made their way to where the other drivers were. “But she hooks up with everyone and leaves them heartbroken. So be careful.”

The McLaren driver shrugs in response, keeping his eyes on the topic of the conversation. Something about her made him attracted to her. Possibly it was the way she would throw her head back when she laughed at a joke Lewis said or the way she’d flip back her long locks.

Lando simply couldn’t keep his eyes off her even when he was at the front of the dance floor in front of the DJ stand. Y/n had noticed him staring earlier at night and standing near him. The Brit signals her to come over to him.

Her red-painted lips curled into a smile, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached him. “You’ve been starin’ all night.” She says with a melodic laugh.

“Can’t help it when I see a girl like you.”

“You’re a special one, Lando Norris,” Y/n says with a raised brow and a smile. The Brit flashes her his signature smile as he pulls her closer by her waist.

The rest of Y/n’s night was spent by Lando's side, even while he was DJing. Even if girls tried to gain his attention, she stuck out and shone like a diamond. No one could get him to move his eyes from her.

Later that night, they were walking hand in hand back to his home. All it took was her batting her cartoon-like eyes for Lando to rush out of the club and drag her out. “So, what do you do for everyone to be obsessed with you?” The McLaren driver curiously asks.

Y/n lets out a laugh as she shakes her head. “Just street walking by night and a star by day, and y’know lookin’ for fun and gettin’ high for free.” She says with a shrug, her heels making clicking sounds as they hit the pavement with each step. “But trust me, you don’t want to get this way. It’s tiring.”

And she left it at that. Lando was still intrigued by her, thinking they had something special between them. He didn’t listen to what Max had told him and he invited Y/n to his hotel room where they spent a very restless and lust-filled night.

The bright sun shining in his eyes caused Lando to wake up with a groan. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up against the headboard. He turned to the side, expecting to see Y/n but instead saw an empty spot beside him.

She left without a trace. Her clothes, shoes, everything about her was gone like she had never come to his room. He makes a mumble of curses as he reaches for his phone, remembering how they exchanged numbers.

He immediately pressed on her contact. It led straight to voicemail.

Lando lets out a frustrated groan, now realizing what Y/n’s reply to his question meant. He finally understood why she was called Carmen after a certain song, since all the boys, the girls, were all obsessed with her exactly like how he felt.

[hotchnisslvr]

drunk dial

pairing: platonic aaron hotchner/reader

rating: t

word count: 8.1k

tags: implied sexual assault, referenced sexual assault

summary: when you drunk dial your boss in need of rescuing from a night club, aaron hotchner doesn’t hesitate to respond. the only problem? you thought you’d called emily. hotch insists on you letting him take care of you for the night as you’re in no state to be on your own. as the night progresses, you find that you’re finally able to disclose a trauma you’d kept buried for years.

“Hotchner,” he answers groggily.

A harsh sob echoes through the receiver and he sits up, bringing the phone down to view the caller ID. The dark slash of his brow furrows as he views your name and photo.

There’s concern in his voice as he says your name, but you don’t seem to hear it.

You heave another sob through the phone. “My friend left with some guy. And now this one, he won’t—” Your voice suddenly sounds far away the music pounding in the background overtakes your words. He’s missing information as your voice becomes clear once more. “He wants more than I’m willing to give Emily and I just want to go home.” Your words are slurred. “I just,” another choked sob, “I need he—” The line disconnects.

“Hello?” Hotch questions and tries your name again. He redials your number and curses as it goes to voicemail. Throwing back the sheets, he climbs out of bed and dials Prentiss’ number as he pulls a hoodie over his t-shirt.

She laughs as she answers, “Hotch, it’s past midnight. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He cuts her off and curtly explains the call he’d just received. “Where is she?”

“Oh, um, The 930 Club. She’s—”

“Thanks, Prentiss.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. He grabs his raincoat and keys and swiftly exits his apartment.

The club isn’t far from his complex, but with Saturday night traffic in the heart of DC combined with the summer storm raging on, it seems to take ages. He lays on the horn as someone cuts him off and curses as he slams on his brakes. Briefly, he considers throwing the red and blue lights on, but thinks better of it. He’s not far now and after making it through the next red light, the club comes into view. Disregarding the no parking signs out front, Hotch pulls up alongside the curb and throws the SUV into park.

Despite the rain, a line stretches out the door. Couples and groups of friends clad in leather, satin, high heels, and sleek accessories huddle under wide umbrellas to protect themselves from the storm. Hotch approaches the door and a bouncer stretches his arm across the way.

“There’s a line, old man.” The bouncer inclines his head toward the line of anxiously waiting club goers. “Get to the back before I put you there myself.”

Hotch is unfazed by the bouncer and the sense of power his job provides him. Standing toe to toe with the man, he stares him down, his eyes hard. He reaches into his pants pocket and retrieves his badge. With two fingers, he flips it open and pushes into the bouncer’s face. “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” he states flatly. “I’ve got an agent in trouble in there, so get the hell out of my way before I have you in handcuffs.” He’s bluffing, obviously, the bouncer has done nothing wrong. He doesn’t know that though, given how wide his eyes open in fear. He says nothing and steps aside, granting him entry.

“Thank you.” For good measure, Hotch drives his shoulder into the bouncer as he shoves his way into the noisy nightclub. His eyes dart around, scanning the scene. There are two long bars on opposite walls, a DJ against the short wall where dozens of people bump and grind against one another on the dance floor, and two levels of tall tables and booths for people to crowd around or sneak into to get away from the music.

On the phone, you’d sounded distressed. Your words were slurred and he could only hope and pray that you’d not been drugged by whatever “he” was with you at the time of the call. God, he could only hope that you were even still here. If he knew creeps as well as his job had accustomed him to, if a man was trying to procure a woman under the influence, he’d either leave immediately and attack her in a secondary location or he’d take her somewhere more private within the environment.

Pushing through the crowd, he shouldered past couples who shot dagger sharp glances at him and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. The music still pounded over the speakers up here, but this was clearly where people went to escape the bustle of the crowded dance floor and get away to drink or order food or conversate more

privately. He calls your name and begins scanning tables. Patrons dining or trying to steal a romantic moment glare at him. Some curse and tell him to fuck off. He pays them no mind. As he winds around tables, he begins losing hope despite there being much more of the club to explore. He has half a mind to shut the whole place down and call in the team, but that would be a gross overreaction. There is no evidence that you’re actually in danger or missing aside from a drunk misdial. Still though, his heart pounds erratically as he calls your name over the music.

He reaches the end of the second floor and at first doesn’t see that there are people in the booth they’re that far tucked into it. The man’s hulking frame blocks the girl from view and he knows it’s you.

“Hey!” he barks over the baseline.

“We don’t need anything,” the man says without looking back.

Fury floods his veins. Without a second thought, Hotch reaches for the man and grabs him by the back of the neck. He reels back, pulling the man to his feet. Catching his balance, the man pulls his fist back. As he aims to deliver a punch, Hotch ducks and sends his fist into the man’s gut. As the air vacates his lungs and he doubles over, Hotch fists his hands into his shirt and slams him back into the table. With the man immobilized, he looks up at you. A strap on your dress falls over one shoulder and your hair hangs limply, having fallen free of whatever style it had been in. You look at him from half hooded eyes, blinking slowly. The scene is spinning and your temples are throbbing.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks. His knuckles blaze white as the man struggles beneath his grip.

“Stop moving!” he barks.

“Can somebody help me?” the man calls.

Someone is saying your name, asking if you’re ok. The music is loud and your ears feel like they’re plugged with cotton. Things seem to move quickly and slowly all at once. Where are you? You’ve not left the club yet, but where did Mariah go? There’s your name again. God, you’re really out of it. Mariah left, you remember. She left with Andrew’s friend and Andrew, God, he wouldn’t leave you alone. When was Emily going to get here? There’s your name again. You blink hard and try to get your bearings. Though things are hazy and tilted through your alcohol laden senses, a picture starts to form in front of you. Aaron Hotchner, your boss, has Andrew pinned against the table in front of you.

“Sir?” you question, though the word feels far away and unfamiliar on your tongue.

Hotch raises his eyes from Andrew, concern reflecting back at you in them. Your eyes widen as you take in Andrew’s form beneath him. You glance down at yourself and see your dress straps pulled down, exposing the lace of your bra. What the fuck had he been trying to do before Hotch got here?

Two bouncers approach as a crowd begins to gather, people are always hungry for drama after all.

“Is there a problem here?” the first bouncer asks. He’s tall, built, and wears sunglasses despite it being dark inside. His ginger beard is bushy and his brow is pierced. He looks pissed as all hell that he has to be up here breaking up a fight. Hotch recognizes the other bouncer from the door. When they make eye contact, his eyes widen.

“Yo, Liam, that’s that FBI agent I was telling you about.”

Liam arches a brow, but his expression softens. “What’s going on, officer? Or should I call you Agent?”

Hotch ignores him and pulls Andrew to his feet, pushing him toward the bouncers. “Get this guy out of here,” he orders. He looks toward you again, his eyes searching for signs of further harm. He turns his attention back to Andrew.

“Did you slip her something?”

Andrew’s face screws. “What? No!”

Hotch steps forward, his face inches from his, and repeats the question louder, “Did you give her something?”

Andrew flinches. “No! I don’t do that shit, man. She took a bunch of shots with her friend. Guys were buying them drinks all night. I just—”

“You just what?” Hotch questions, his voice low and dangerous. “Wait for a woman that can hardly stand, take her upstairs, hide away, and see just how far you can take it?”

“Hey, she was into it!”

Hotch grabs him by the jaw. “Look at her!” he says. “She can barely keep her eyes open! That’s not consent, idiot!”

Andrew swallows and he looks like he might wet himself.

“Hotch,” you say and try your best to sit up, the world spinning as you do so.

Hotch releases him, but first leans in close to his ear. “If you ever, and I mean ever try this again, with anyone. I will have you arrested and will personally make sure you never see the light of day ever again. I was a federal prosecutor, so I know how to make charges stick. Do I make myself clear?”

Andrew nods vigorously and a tear slips from his eyes. “Not so confident now, huh?” Hotch whispers, disdain dripping from his lips. “Get him out of here.”

He watches as the bouncers lead Andrew down the steps. Hotch immediately turns his attention on you. He slides into the booth beside you. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of what’s happening. The music is so loud. Hotch looks around and then back at you. “Let’s get you out of here, come on.” He stretches his hand out to you and you take it, letting him pull you out of the booth. When you find your feet, you stumble and he catches you, his arm bracing around your lower back.

“It’s raining,” Hotch says as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Take this.” He drapes it over your shoulders, his little finger curling under the strap of your dress and pulling it back into place as he does so. The smell of cedar and teakwood reaches your nose, a severe contrast to the club’s overarching scent of vodka, sweat, and the amalgamation of various perfumes and colognes sprayed in earnest.

The second you exit the club your head feels a fraction clearer. The air is muggy, the humidity amping up with the cold rain coming down after a week of intensely high temperatures.

Aaron reaches into his pocket and fishes out his car keys. He clicks the unlock button and the car beeps in response. He opens the door and helps you inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as you clumsily buckle your seatbelt to make sure you can get it on alright. Once secure, he gently shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side.

He slides into the driver’s seat and twists the key in the ignition. He places his hands on the wheel, but before shifting the car into gear, he looks at you, intensely. When he says your name, it’s gentle. It’s not the tone he uses in the office when he’s calling the team for a briefing or to review something you’d written in a report. There’s a warmth in his voice, and there’s real concern there too. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts. “Just know that you can.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the world tilts on its axis. Your stomach roils and for a moment you’re afraid you might be sick. You take a deep breath and manage to hold it down. Hotch tilts his head, regarding you. “Is there anyone at home that can take care of you?”

“No,” you answer and this time you don’t shake your head to avoid aggravating the nausea. “My roommate is out of town visiting her family,” you speak slowly but your words still come out slurred.

Hotch nods and shifts the car into gear. “You can stay with me then, tonight.”

“No, sir I can’t let you do that. You’ve got Jack and—”

A smile cracks his stern visage as he pulls out into traffic. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve taken a mental snapshot as you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a genuine expression of mirth cross his face. “Jack is at his aunt’s. I wouldn’t have exactly been able to come out like this if he wasn’t. Beth has an event for work this weekend, which is why I’ve stayed back in DC. It’s no trouble at all.”

You sink back into the seat, a part of you unable to believe that this is happening while the other part of you is still trying to fully process what all had transpired in the last fifteen minutes.

“Hotch, how did you know—”

His eyes are on the road as he speaks. “You thought you’d called Emily. You called me.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, drawing out the last letter. A scarlett heat creeps into your cheeks and you cover your face with your hands. “So you heard—Jesus Christ. Oh my God.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hotch says, his words genuine. “I’m glad I can help.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence. It’s not long by any stretch of the imagination, but the constant stop and go traffic of late night DC has your stomach doing somersaults. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the cool glass of the window hoping it’ll quell the churning in your belly.

A quiet groan escapes your lips as Hotch pulls into his designated parking spot at The Langham. It stopped raining. As soon as he shifts the car into park, your stomach feels as though it’s just been bounced around like. ping pong ball. “Oh god,” you moan and fumble with the door handle. Somehow you manage to undo the lock and fling open the door. As soon as your feet hit the pavement, you rush over to the nearest bush, the vomit you’d staved off finally forcing its way up and out of your body. It’s vile, the way the alcohol and stomach acid burns your throat.

Footsteps rapidly approach and there’s a hand at your neck, gathering your hair. “Alright, ok,” Hotch says soothingly, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. “Get it all out, oh yeah, yep. There you go.”

When your body stops purging itself, you gulp down a fresh breath of air before spitting the acrid taste of bile from your lips. You stay like that, hands on your knees, and take a few deep breaths. “Do you have your gun?”

Hotch releases your hair as you stand, but keeps a steadying hand on your arm. His expression is puzzled, his brow arched. “No, why?”

You roll your eyes and turn toward the sidewalk leading toward the front entrance to his building. “To kill me now so I don’t have to live with the embarrassment of knowing my boss just saw that happen.”

Something between a laugh and scoff escapes Hotch’s lips as he catches up to you in two long strides. Him and his long ass legs, you drunkenly muse.

The lights hurt your eyes and your temples continue to throb as you let Hotch navigate your way through his complex. The walk feels excessively long and you wonder if all apartment complexes are this maze-like. As he fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to his apartment you realize you’re actually at Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You’ve never been to his apartment. You’ve been to Emily’s, Penelope’s, and Spencer’s apartments; Rossi and JJ’s houses, but Hotch? Definitely not. Suddenly you feel like you are about to encroach upon the shadowy place Mufasa warns Simba about in The Lion King.

You blink and that clears the weird image forming of Hotch as a cartoonish fatherly lion from your mind. You stumble through the threshold as he pushes the door open and curse as he catches you again. “These fucking heels,” you grumble. As you reach down to work out the straps your stomach flips and you groan.

Hotch’s eyes flare slightly. “Why don’t you stay up there?” he cautions. “Let me help you.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond, voice tight as your stomach threatens revolution once more.

He bends down on one knee and begins to undo the straps from around your ankles. He holds the back of your calf as he pulls the heel off and places it against the wall. You have to catch yourself on his shoulder to keep from falling but as soon as your foot falls flat on the floor, a languid moan leaves your lips.

“Good God, that feels so much better.”

He helps you slide out of the other high heeled shoe and stands. Without the heels on, he has a decent amount of height on you. You have to look up to meet his eyes, those eyes still shining with concern.

“Let me take the coat,” he says, lifting his hands toward you. You turn and shrug out of it, your limbs feeling awkward and heavy as you do so. He hangs it on a hook on the back of the door and gestures down the length of the hallway.

“It’s just the one bedroom,” he explains as he leads the way toward the main room. “You can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”

“No!” you blurt. “No, no, no you don’t have to do any of that oh my God.”

Hotch chuckles in response. “I think you’ll thank me in the morning if you do.” Wordlessly, you follow as he leads the way to the aforementioned bedroom. He flicks the light switch on and the lamp on his bedside table illuminates the room. It’s simply decorated with store bought abstract paintings and dark blue linens on the queen sized bed. A framed photo of Jack sits on the nightstand, angled toward the bed. The idea of Hotch lying there looking at the image of his son tugs your heartstrings. You move past Hotch and plop down on the bedspread before reaching for the photo. You smile as you look at Jack’s crooked smile.

“He’s so precious,” you muse and poke Jack’s nose through the flat plane of glass. You look up at Hotch from where he stands in the doorway. “He’s lucky to have a dad like you, sir.”

Hotch smiles softly and crosses the distance to sit beside you, the mattress sinking beneath your combined weight. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll be honest, it's hard to feel like a good dad some days with our job.”

You bump him with your shoulder, or at least that’s your intention.You more or less use your entire arm to nudge him just barely. “You give him all the time you’re able, we all see that. If we do, Jack definitely does.”

You pass him the picture frame and smile. Hotch smiles in turn, his lips together. “Thank you,” he says as he places it back on the nightstand. “I hope he grows into a good man.”

“With you as his father, there’s no doubt. There ought to be more dads like you out there to teach their sons how to be men.” Your smile falters and your voice grows small. “Maybe then they wouldn’t try to see just how far they can push the envelope.”

Tears spring to your eyes and you use the back of your hand to clumsily wipe them away. Turn off the waterworks, you chide yourself. Your temples already throb from how much the alcohol, first round of tears, and vomiting dehydrated you, no need to compound it now with more tears.

Hotch says your name quietly. “You can talk to me, you know.” He pats your hand that rests atop the bedsheets. “I’m not your boss right now, I’m your friend.”

Your lip quivers as you stare blankly at the wall ahead. “If I talk about it, that means I let it happen. I’m a fucking FBI agent, Hotch. I should know better than to drink that much. I should—”

Hotch’s brow pinches. “Woah, woah, woah,” he starts, “where is this coming from? You know better than anyone that how much you drink doesn’t matter, that doesn’t entitle anyone else to you or your body. And fuck if you’re an agent, you’re allowed to go and enjoy drinks and a night out without worrying if some asshole is going to try and take advantage of you. I think I scared him within an inch of his life, too. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

But it’s not about Andrew. It’s not about tonight anymore. Tears slip over your lash line.They’re hot and fat and you hate how they have little minds of their own, dropping freely down your cheeks. You know what he says is true. Hell, you preach it to everyone, especially when you teach self defense at the local university. What you wear is never an excuse for someone to touch you. How you dance isn’t an excuse for someone to grope you. How much you drink isn’t an excuse for someone to lay claim to your flesh. The only thing that means yes is explicit, enthusiastic consent. You know this. You teach this.

But right now, it’s so hard to believe because that’s what you had to fight so hard to teach yourself when you first had to learn what happened wasn’t your fault.

You drop your head into your hands and stifle a sob. “God, it was nearly ten fucking years ago.”

“What was ten years ago?” Hotch asks, his voice soft and kind.

Oh God. You’d said that out loud.

You scrub your hands over your face and curse as you smear mascara into your eye. “Fuck!” you exclaim as your hand flies to your eye instinctively.

“I’ve got something I think can help,” Hotch says as he rises from the bed and darts out of the room. From your point of view, you can’t see anything but you hear bottles rummaging around from where you imagine is the bathroom out in the hall. When he returns he carries a small green package in his hand. He crouches in front of you and peels back the plastic film on the container. With two fingers he extracts a wipe and folds it in half. As he reaches for your face he hesitates, wipe paused in mid air above your cheek. “Is this alright?” he asks.

Sniffling, you nod. With one hand, Hotch gingerly wraps his fingers around your wrist. As he pulls it away, he uses his other hand to place the cool moist towelette against your eye. He holds it there for a moment before he begins to wipe and blot at the black swirls of mascara that had dried in tear stained patterns around your eyes and cheeks and whatever vestiges of eyeshadow remained. Once that wipe is fully soiled, he retrieves a fresh one; repeating the gesture on the other eye before moving on and clearing away what remained of your face and lip makeup. You don’t speak while he does this, and you don’t have to. You needed it. You needed that. You needed someone. You needed him. A friend. Someone that would ask no questions and just show up for you when you needed them most. No questions asked. And when he did ask questions, when Hotch did, there was no expectation to answer. But right now, in this strange moment, in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, in his bed no less, you felt like you could finally tell someone.

“I was a teenager,” you say as he takes one final swipe at your cheek.

His hand freezes along your jawline and his eyes lock on yours. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently, lowering his hand.

“If I don’t say it now on what courage the alcohol left in my system is giving me, I’m afraid I never will.”

Hotch sits back on his heels. “Alright.”

“I was dating an older guy at the time. I was a freshman in college. He was a senior; vice president of his fraternity. He came from a wealthy family, too. I was naive and so excited to be dating someone like that, someone with status. I grew up comfortably, but not that well off. He took me to nice dinners and bought me expensive gifts. We had a physical relationship, and it started out fine enough.” You pause and take a deep breath. “But we started fighting. He wouldn’t,” you pause. “I couldn’t get him to talk to me or communicate in any way that led to resolution when we did. He’d just keep apologizing and told me that he’d do better next time. He’d start kissing me to interrupt and then his hands would be in my pants and I just,” you stop and shake your head. “I thought if I could just deal with what he did physically, that things would be fine again if I just pretended I liked what was happening and got it over with. I thought that we’d go back to the fun, happy go lucky couple everyone knew us as. Until it happened again, and again, and again. When he graduated I finally felt safe enough to break things off once there was distance between us. I knew something had felt off about those experiences. It never occurred to me that that was assault.”

“You suffered through numerous unwanted physical advances because he emotionally manipulated you through stonewalling.” Hotch says quietly. It’s not an explanation, but validation of your experience.

A choked laugh escapes your lips. “I know that now. At the time, I thought assault was like what you see on TV. That it’s some stranger in an alley that blitz attacks you. I never thought it could be someone you knew, let alone someone you were in what you believed was a loving and committed relationship.” You shake your head again, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that the perpetrators were almost alway statistically someone the victim knows.”

A warm hand slips into yours. You look up and Hotch is looking at you intently. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” He says, squeezing your hand.

You lick your chapped lips and drop your eyes, nodding. “It took a long time for me to learn that.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Hotch says. “To have gone through that alone,” he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” you reply, because what else was there to say? “I wasn’t completely alone. I did go to counseling throughout the remainder of my time in school, they had services for the students. There was a support group, too; one for people who’d experienced sexual violence. It was there I really learned that things weren’t my fault. Other people had experienced similar things. Without that, I don’t think I’d have made it through honestly. I definitely wouldn’t be here.”

His hand squeezes around yours once more. “I’m glad that you are.” He smiles and a dimple forms in his cheek. “I know I'm a better man for having known you. The team, hell, the impact you have on the lives of those going through the worst possible moments of their lives in these cases we work…you have touched so many lives for the better. Please never, ever forget that.”

You smile crookedly and it feels somewhat genuine. “What do you think gets me through the day?”

The throbbing in your temples intensifies suddenly and you screw your eyes shut, your hands moving instinctively to rub them. “God, I’m going to be so hungover in the morning.”

Hotch claps his hands together. “Let’s see if we can’t get ahead of that.”

He leaves the room and when he returns he has a glass of water. “Here,” he says and passes you the cup.

You graciously accept it and take a long drink, the cool water soothing your throat, raw from crying and vomiting. “Thank you,” you murmur.

“It would probably help if you got some sleep. Do you feel up to taking a shower?”

You scoff, “Ok, Hotch. I threw up and it helped a little bit, but I’m not that sober.”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Let me at least get you some clothes. I know sleeping in a cocktail dress won’t be too comfortable.”

“Do you know?” you tease.

He presses his lips together. “Let me go see what I can find.”

You exhale a short laugh as he disappears from view and you fall back onto the mattress, a dull thud echoing as your body hits the sheets. You heave out a big sigh and stare at the ceiling. “This is a weird fucking night.”

You close your eyes and behind closed lids, it feels like you’re spinning. Yep, definitely not sober. You open your eyes and lazily reach up to start pulling bobby pins from your hair.

“Alright, I’ve got a pair of sweats and an old academy hoodie that should fit you.”

At the sound of Hotch’s voice, you let your head loll to the side. “You look absurdly tall from this angle,” you muse.

Hotch chuckles, “Spoken like someone desperately in need of sleep.” He steps into the room and drops the clothes onto the bed.

“Hotch?” you question, ignoring his last comment.

You roll onto your side and push yourself back into a sitting position. He arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Why is it you’ve got makeup wipes in your apartment?” You inhale sharply. “Ooo, are you secretly a drag performer?”

Hotch laughs. “I am not a drag performer, though I do think Anderson does drag brunch on Saturday mornings if I remember right.”

You blink twice. “I’m sorry, and you’re only telling me this now?”

Hotch shrugs. “I’m surprised you don’t know about it. Garcia does.”

Your jaw drops. “Garcia knows?? Oh, when I get my hands on her—”

“To answer your question though,” Hotch butts in, an amused glint shining in his eyes. “They’re Beth’s.”

A smile pulls at your lips. “Beth keeps things at your apartment? What are we talking, like, a couple of things on the counter? A drawer?”

Hotch’s eyes drop to the floor as a scarlet blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.

“Oh my God, this is serious isn’t it?” You feel the apples of your cheeks as your smile widens. “Spill, Hotch! Should I be looking at outfits for the wedding?”

To that, Hotch raises his hands as a smile splits his lips. “Calm down,” he laughs. “We’re not quite at wedding bells, but we do see each other almost every weekend. With the commute on the train, it is easy to have a drawer or two at one another’s apartments.”

You feel like kicking your feet, you’re so happy. If anyone deserved this kind of joy and love in their life, it was Hotchner. God knows he deserved it after all the hell he’d been through, all the trauma he survived.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say. “Beth is a remarkable woman”.

Hotch nods, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “She is.”

You reach over and pull the clothes onto your lap. “Thanks, again, Hotch.” You toy with the sleeve of the hoodie in hand. “As horrified as I was when I realized I’d called you instead of Emily, I’m glad you came. I’m glad it was you.”

“We’re a team. We’re family,” Hotch replies. He leans against the doorframe. “Hell, I’m old enough to be your father. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt a bit more protective of you, anyway. So, when I heard your voice on the line, there was no hesitation. I’d like to think if I had a daughter and she were in trouble, that someone in her life would do the same.”

You spring off of the bed, a little uncoordinated due to alcohol still gently buzzing in your veins at this point, and throw your arms around him. You bury your face in his neck and though, muffled, you say, “Thank you, Aaron. Thank you so much, for everything.” You don’t need to say what for, he knows. Your gratitude extends far beyond just rescuing you from the night club.

His arms snake around you, his palms pressed flat against the middle of your back as he squeezes you tightly.

“You’re so welcome,” he says into your hair. “I’m so proud of you, you know. Don’t ever forget that.” He pulls away just so and presses a fatherly kiss to your hairline, “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You nod and brush away a stubborn tear. God, you’d think you’d have nothing left in the tank at this point. You stifle a yawn as you close the door. The clothes Hotch left you fit well enough; the warmth and coziness of the fleece lined fabrics acting as security blanket as you tuck yourself in between the sheets. You barely remember to flick off the lamp on the bedside table before crashing onto the pillows where the heaviness of sleep finally drags you under to the sweet realm of nothingness.

Three things are incredibly clear the second you wake up: one, it’s too bright and you have to squint against the white rays of sunlight cutting through the slats in the blinds; two, your mouth feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton balls, you swallow but there’s not even an inkling of saliva to wet your dry throat; and three, it feels like someone has been slamming on a timpani inside of your skull.

You exude a long, slow groan into the pillow before rolling onto your side to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on Hotch’s nightstand. The red numbers blink back 10:23AM. There’s a fresh glass of water on the nightstand alongside two tablets and a folded piece of paper.

Your brow furrows as you prop yourself onto your elbow and reach for the note. You unfold it with one hand and in Hotch’s tight, neat scrawl it reads:

Ran out to grab a few things. I left some aspirin there on the table. You should probably take them.

-Hotch

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you mutter as you toss the paper onto the bed.

You try not to gag as the pills start dissolving on your tongue and quickly chase it with the glass of water. After washing them down, you make a rather unattractive display of gulping down the remaining water. You drink it so quickly that some spills over the glass and you have to use the sleeve of your sweater, well Hotch’s sweater oops, to wipe off your face.

It doesn’t sound like anyone else is home. Pushing back the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand and for the first time, the room isn’t spinning. Even though Hotch is out, you still walk on the balls of your feet as if you need to be quiet. It feels strange to be stepping out into the hallways and walking into his bathroom. Sure, you’d swung by his apartment a few times to drop off a file or other work necessities. You’d never been in his house though.

Walking in and using his bathroom feels so strange, like an invasion of privacy. Like his bedroom, it’s simply decorated. A shower curtain decorated with blue and green swirls lines one wall. Plush bath mats of a similar blue line the area in front of the shower and sink. His very few toiletries sit in a neat row to the left of the faucet on the sink. He’s a Gillette guy, interesting. You’d always taken him for an Old Spice sort of man. You hear the front door and stop profiling his bathroom, instead, quickly using it for its intended purposes. You can’t help yourself though as you dry off your hands. You pull open the two drawers beneath the sink and smile to yourself. The one holds all of Hotch’s things: razor, comb, toothpaste, the usual; the other is clearly Beth’s: makeup, hair elastics, and the green makeup wipes sit neatly inside among other items. You bump the drawers closed with your hips before making your way back out into the hallway.

“Hey, Hotch,” you say, “Thanks again so much for—” Words fail you as you look up and see JJ and Prentiss in his living room.

Wide smiles spread across their faces. JJ spreads her fingers and holds her hands in the air, “Surprise!”

Brow furrowed, you cross the room and let them pull you into quick hugs.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you all, but what’s going on? Where’s Hotch?”

Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arc toward her hairline as she tilts her head, “He thought you could use a pick me up.”

“So, he called you guys?”

JJ nods. “We’ve all had rough nights, followed by even rougher mornings.” She inclines her head toward Emily. “Remember the morning Hotch ran that triathlon?”

Emily cringes. “God, don’t remind me!”

“Where is Hotch, anyway?” you ask, craning your neck around Emily and JJ.

“Oh,” Emily says, her lips forming the shape of the word. “He should be right behind us he—”

Just then, the front door swings open and it’s not Hotch.

“There she is!” exclaims Penelope. She waltzes into the apartment, adjusting the massive purse on her shoulder as she does so. Her knee length pink skirt swishes around her legs as she crosses the room to pull you into an embrace. The smell of jasmine clings to you as your face is buried in her chest and neck. She pulls away after a long moment, though her hands don’t drop from your shoulders. Her eyes scan your face. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. Do not fret! Penelope is here to help get you feeling refreshed and revitalized!”

You look to JJ and Emily for help. “I look like shit, don’t I? Be honest.”

JJ shakes her head. “Noooo.”

Emily presses her lips together and tilts her head back and forth, “Well—”

JJ slaps a hand against her stomach and Emily winces. “What?!”

“Drink this,” Penelope says. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of yellow liquid. You take it and turn to read the label, Crisp Lemon Berry Pedialyte. “It’s got electrolytes. You need those!”

“Yes ma’am,” you say agreeably and crack open the bottle. The label makes it seem like it’ll be better than it is, but the taste is bearable. You need as much hydration as you can get at the moment, so you don’t complain.

“Sorry I took so long!” Hotch’s voice fills the room as he enters carrying a drink tray of coffees and an extra one in his free hand. “Line at the cafe was nearly out the door.”

“Oh my God, is that coffee?” you ask, salivating at the thought.

Penelope points a purple polished finger at you. “Finish that, then you can have coffee.”

He sets a cup down on the kitchen table before approaching them in the living room. “Non-fat, vanilla latte for you,” Hotch says, passing a cup to JJ. “London fog for Emily, can’t quite shake England there, can you?” he teases as Emily accepts the cup, not before flicking him off though with a cheeky grin playing on her berry red lips. Iced matcha green tea latte—”

“With soy?” Penelope questions, eyeing the cup suspiciously.

“With soy,” Hotch confirms and she accepts it happily.

“Last but not least, almond milk mocha for you.” He holds the cup out and smiles warmly. You hold his gaze for a moment, the exchange carrying more than a simple ‘thank you’ would allow for. He dips his chin just slightly in acknowledgment. As you reach for the cup, Penelope’s hand shoots out to intercept, her bangles jangling against her wrist.

“I’ll take that!” she chirps before taking a long sip of her own drink.

“Hey!” you whine.

Penelope gestures toward the Pedialyte with your coffee. “Finish!”

You roll your eyes and reluctantly chug the remaining liquid. “There,” you say and shake the empty bottle. “Happy?”

“Very!” pipes Penelope. “Oh! Here!” she reaches into her bag and withdraws a drawstring bag. Did she own the Mary Poppins bag? How did all of this fit inside of her purse? “I stopped by your apartment and grabbed a few things. Toothbrush, deodorant, change of clothes, the works.”

“Oh, Penelope Garcia, you are my angel!” You gratefully take the bag into your hands and disappear down the hall into the restroom.

The aspirin has started to kick in alongside what attempts you’ve made to rehydrate and the throbbing in your skull has dwindled to a soft drumming. Searching through the contents of the bag, you praise Garcia’s name as you find your skincare and toothbrush.

It takes all of ten minutes for you to brush your teeth, wash your face, and style your hair up and out of your face. Garcia had packed you two different styles of underwear, (leave it to her to give you the choice of thong or bikini styled undergarments. She’s probably also one of the only people you’d feel comfortable rummaging through your underwear drawer if you’re being honest) a pair of leggings, and a cropped Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. You change quickly and fold the sweats and sweater Hotch had lent you. You throw all of your toiletries into the bag and shrug it over shoulder before scooping Hotch’s clothes into your arms.

Hotch and the girls are sitting around the coffee table on the couch and recliner, enjoying their beverages. Penelope smiles widely when you emerge.

“There she is!” she exclaims. “I brought your Birkenstocks too. They’re by the door. Hotch said you’d worn heels out and I knew you definitely wouldn’t want to be in those.”

“Good call,” you say and take your coffee from Penelope. You take a slow sip of the warm mocha and moan.

Everyone laughs. Emily checks her watch and shoots up. “We better get going if we’re going to catch Anderson’s performance.”

Your eyes widen at that. “Wait.”

Emily smiles and nods. “Yep. He comes on in about an hour. We figured you’d need a nice greasy brunch after last night. The place he performs at makes a mean breakfast sandwich.”

“And potatoes with sausage gravy!” Penelope adds. “Though I’m more partial to mushroom gravy because precious baby piggies should not be slaughtered for my breakfast.”

“Okayyy, Penelope,” JJ teases as she loops an arm around her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure they added veggie sausage to their menu just for you.”

“Yeah,” Emily agrees. “They were probably afraid she’d hack their system and mess with their food shipments otherwise.”

Penelope looks over her shoulder as JJ guides her to the door. “I could do that!”

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that!” Hotch calls after them as JJ and Penelope leave the apartment.

“I wonder if they remember I’m the one with the car keys,” Emily says, her lips drawn into a warm smile. “Meet you downstairs?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ll be there in a second.”

Emily nods and leaves. You cross the living room toward the door where Hotch stands, one arm holding it open.

“Hotch I—

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“No, Hotch. I’m serious. What you did for me last night, I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“And you don’t have to,” he says, his tone firm. You look up and meet his unwavering gaze. “I would do it again without question. Like I said last night, we’re not just a team, we’re family. We look out for each other. We pull each other up when we’re at our lowest. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.”

You can’t help the quizzical expression that pinches your features. “For what? All I did was wake you up in the middle of the night, throw up in your bushes, and kick you out of your own bed on a Friday night.”

Hotch laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, well when you say it like that, it definitely doesn’t look good. What I was going to say though, is thank you for trusting me. I know that I wasn’t who you expected last night, but I’m glad I could be the one to help you when you needed it. Furthermore, I’m incredibly grateful that you felt as though you could trust me to tell me about your past. I know that can’t have been easy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I hope it’s clear now that you’ll always have a listening ear with me.”

A surge of emotion courses through you in that moment and you can’t help but launch yourself at him. You loop an arm around his neck and awkwardly attempt to hug him with the other arm that stills holds his clothes, the bundle of fabric creating an odd wedge between your bodies. Hotch is taken aback by the gesture, but his arms comfortably fold around your back and he squeezes you gently.

“I could’ve used someone like you, you know.” You say after a moment. “I didn’t really have any older male figures I could talk to at the time it happened.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he assures you. “And I’m not going anywhere. That is, until Strauss gets sick of me.”

You pull back and scoff. “Yeah, like that’ll happen any time soon.” You hold the clothes out to him. “Here! Before I walk out with them.”

“It’s actually a bit breezy out there,” Hotch says as he takes the bundle and passes you back the sweater. “Why don’t you take this?”

You reach out and accept it, pulling it back into your chest. “I’ll bring it with me to the office on Monday.”

“Sounds good,” he says with a smile. “Oh! And you’ll probably want these.” He walks away and while he’s off grabbing whatever it is he’s talking about, you scoop your heels up off the floor and slide into your Birkenstocks.

Hotch returns with a pair of black Ray Bans. “If I know one thing about hangovers,” he says as he passes them to you. “It’s how horrible a sunny day can be on the eyes.”

He reaches for the door knob and pulls it open for you. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

As you slide his sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, you curse. “Shit! The report on the McPherson case. I was going to work on it today. I’ll email it to you first thing tomorrow.”

“It’s already taken care of,” Hotch explains. “Emily and JJ took care of it for you before coming over this morning.” He’d orchestrated everything with them as soon as he’d woken up to make sure you had nothing to worry about today except for fighting your hangover. He’d not told them everything of course, he’d never betray your trust like that. Some things the team didn’t need to know, and that was okay. If you were ever ready to tell them, he knew you would in time. For now, he just told them that you’d had a tough night and would need some TLC from the girl gang. They hadn’t even bothered with follow up questions. The three girls were ready to drop what they were doing and change their plans to be able to bring comfort and fun to your Saturday morning. He’d have done the same thing for any of them if they’d been in your shoes.

Your lips quirk into a small smile knowing further words weren’t necessary to convey your gratitude and appreciation for all he’d done and continues to do. “I’ll see you, Monday.”

He smiles in turn, “See you, Monday.”

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 2

Azriel x Cassian x Reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Reader unwell/not eating, depression and lots of angst.

Keep reading ⬇️

--------

You slept through any offerings of daylight the next day.

The bustle of the infirmary was a hum to your ears, your exhaustion keeping the world a distance away. Even the healers couldn't stir you when the frequented your room, changing your dressings and checking your pulse.

You woke for a meal of simple broth in the evening, and were glad to have kept it down. You still fought feverish sweats and chills, and the ache in your stomach and chest was persistent. Madja would oversee your care as she had the evening before. She had given one instruction – the more rest, the better.

Night set on the ward again, and you were glad to be enveloped by dim lighting and quieter activity.

Unsure of when sleep had found you, you awoke in an open field. It was bright, the high-pointed sun drenching the landscape in gold, the lake in the distance sparkling and inviting. Familiarity warmed you more than the sun, yet the scene around you remained hazy.

Ears pricking at a ripple of laughter ahead of you, your heart fluttered with excitement. It was instinct to chase that voice, your bare feet pushing from the warmed grass beneath them as you broke into a run. Your skirts kicked beneath you before you hiked them above your knees, both your speed and smile growing.

Ahead was the source of the laughter, a child who also ran, her long locks bouncing with a distinct curl. Meryl. She was no more than 10 years of age, her childish laugh echoing in your ears as your heart pulled at the sight of her.

“Meryl!” you called, continuing the chase, your heels pounding to the ground as you tried to speed up. “Slow down!” You heard your own voice then, also of a child.

The setting around you flooded with detail as a lost memory found you. Your visit to your parent’s good friend in Spring Court, an Uncle of sorts, his charming lake-side cottage where you and your sister would spend hours swimming and playing – and chasing! Of course! Each day you raced to see who would reach the lake first, and Meryl had always been that little bit faster.

Meryl responded with another laugh, so innocent and carefree, as a child should be. You reached a hand out, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch up. You ached for one more chance to speak with her or to hold her, or even to see her face. But she bounded onwards without ever turning her head.

A harsh breeze blew from behind, and the golden glow of the once-memory quickly turned grey and harsh as a storm threatened the sky. The water of the lake was now violent, thrashing with unforgiving waves. You halted your run, yet Meryl bound forward, her laughter drowned by the roar of the wind.

“Meryl!” you called again, your voice now of your adult self, urgent and panicked. As you tried to resume running, you almost toppled over, your hands catching you before you could fall. Something had anchored your bare feet to the ground.

With a yell of frustration, you tried to pry your legs free. Up ahead, your sister’s figure grew smaller, her direction set for the dangerous waters.

“Please! Meryl stop!” Tears began to well in your eyes as you fought to free yourself. You saw them then, the swirls of shadows that kept your legs pinned and unmoving.

“Wha-? Get off me!” You frantically clawed at them, but instead they climbed your arms too, forcing you to the ground.

Hands were on you then, tugging at your clothes and pulling at your limbs. Shadows mixed with siphons blue and red, and swirls of night clouded your vision, between it peeks of Meryl slipping further and further away. You clutched at the roots of the grass, desperate to pull yourself free.

“Stop! I have to save her!” you begged, your voice breaking with despair. But those hands were unrelenting, so strong in their grip as you tried to summon your power. That too rendered useless, cracking to a quick fizzle without so much as a sting.

Before you could call one final plea to your sister, shadows and hands and magic smothered your mouth, drowning your cry in their hold. All you could do was watch in horror as Meryl dived beneath the thrashing waves before your vision was overcome with smoke and night, and finally black.

————

Azriel and Cassian watched as you writhed in your cot, the feverish sweat on your brow glowing in the soft fae light of the infirmary wing.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cassian whispered, his face etched with concern as he stepped closer to you. He gingerly bought a callused hand to your cheek, running one gentle stroke down the length of it.

Azriel’s frown deepened as he heard your sister’s name muttered on your lips, followed by a whimper and ragged breaths. “It’s a fever dream.” he answered, his arms folded as he kept to the edge of your cot.

Cassian looked down at you, noting the tears that stained your cheeks.“We shouldn't have come here,” he said, his jaw tight from guilt. “She’s still unwell, we should let her rest.”

He and Azriel had easily snuck into the ward, winnowing straight past the few healers on night shift, and even slipping past Madja who was buried in paperwork at the desk near the entrance of the infirmary. But now Cassian eyed the door, just as eager to leave.

Azriel was only half listening to his brother as he commanded his shadows. They climbed at the base of your cot, swirling inwards as they found their way to your face and limbs, cooling you as you continued to stir, now a little more gently. Azriel did not show his satisfaction as he watched you sigh, finding some comfort in their touch.

The sound of a curtain being harshly drawn caused the males to jump, revealing an incredibly unimpressed Madja. Azriel cursed himself silently, having used all of his shadows to soothe you without setting guard to the room.

“I don’t want to hear your sorry excuses,” she said coldly to the males, pushing past them and setting a pale next to your bed. She shooed Azriel’s shadows as if they were a mutt on the street, and they quickly scattered back to their master.

“How is she doing?” Cassian asked, eyes pleading.

“I will not disclose that to you,” the healer answered tightly. Wringing the towel within the pale, Madja wiped the sweat from your brow. Your stirring had stopped at least, and you seemed to have found a deeper slumber than before. Madja sighed now, before casting a half look to the boys. “She’s improving, but is still quite weak.”

The males nodded, your sickly skin, limp body and slick hair as evident as the healer’s prognosis.

“Do I need to have words with the High Lord and Lady of their emissaries overstepping my regulations?” Madja asked without looking their way, wringing the cloth yet again before pressing it to your neck and bust. “Not to mention violating patient privacy,” she added.

Cassian hung his head low. “I’m sorry. I don't know what we were thinking.” Azriel refused to look at the healer, his eyes never leaving you.

Madja continued to care for you in silence, allowing Cassian and Azriel to grovel for a few more moments. Picking up the pale, she made to leave your bedside before answering the males. “I have worked with enough Illyrian’s to know of your possessive nature. But I won't be so forgiving if she wakes to find you here. Already your scents have caused more harm than good. She must not know you came, it will only upset her and might unravel her progress.”

“She’s that upset with us?” Azriel asked, his gaze beyond the healer before him, still fixed on you.

“Yes,” she answered plainly. Neither of the males knew what to say. “Now leave, before I regret showing any patience for boyish brutish idiocy.”

Azriel took the risk of another tongue lashing to send a final shadow to caress your cheek, before clasping his brother’s arm and winnowing back to the House of Wind.

————

You were kept at the infirmary for another four nights without any further disturbance from your family. They asked to visit, of course, practically begging through letters and pleas to Madja. But each of their requests were left unanswered, and you too buried your need to have them by your side while you healed.

It gave you time to think of a plan – you could not stay at the infirmary forever. When you had first moved the Velaris, while training as a spy, you lived in a small apartment in the cliffs that faced the Sidra. You hadn't visited there in almost a decade, but your once-home was written to your name, and vacant.

Madja insisted on settling you in, helping you climb the stairs to your room as fatigue still lingered.

Prying the stiff wooden door open, you almost smiled at the sight of your old home. A mattress lay on the floor in the corner of the room just as you had left it – you had never been able to afford a frame on training wages. A small chest of drawers was pushed up against the wall, and the kitchenette was lined with those charming blue tiles just as you remembered.

You were thankful Madja had sent a maid ahead of time, and while the musk of an unused apartment lingered, you were glad to not have to dust in your current state. The small fireplace contained fresh logs of wood which meant there was no urgent trip to the markets either.

“This is it,” you spoke more to yourself as you ran a hand along the kitchenette before making your way over to the chest, prying a stiff drawer open.

Madja was less than impressed. “Child, perhaps you would consider more comfortable accommodation? One where the bed is not on the floor?”

“I’ll be fine here,” you answered, distracted as you searched through your old drawers, finding them empty.

“The High Lord and Lady have offered to accommodate you elsewhere–”

“I don't want their help,” you snapped, shoving the drawer back into the chest with notable anger.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “You don't need to suffer at the cost of their mistakes, Y/N.”

You sighed then, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I won't accept their fortune any longer. This home is mine, I worked hard for it. I will be perfectly fine here while I figure out a plan.”

Madja nodded, scanning the room once over. “Do not forget to take your medicine,” she lectured before turning to the door, knowing better than to linger. There was no remedy for how quiet the apartment fell when she left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Mustering the little energy you had, you set your kettle to boil, waiting patiently for the steam to whistle from the tin, the only sound to fill the apartment beyond the distant hum of the town below.

After a few sips of tea, exhaustion found you again. Setting the mug of tea aside on the cold wooden floor, you crawled into bed, pulling the too-thin covers over your head and leaving your drink unfinished. With your back to the world that beckoned outside, you faced the wall instead, tracing a crack that ran across its length.

How motivated you had felt when you first moved here. At the time, you were grieving Meryl of course, but you had a plan – a one way ticket to ensure a balance in the world, to fight for some sense of justice. Never had you thought it could fail so miserably.

So you traced that crack with a weak finger, remembering your sister, mourning her with a fresh wave of pain.

Grief continued to weigh heavy on your chest the following few days. You had intentions on visiting the market, buying some food and sustaining yourself while you made a new plan. But instead you felt anchored to your mattress, the idea of cooking and bathing and facing the outside world completely overwhelming. Instead, cups of tea brewed only to be left untouched, yours eyes heavy as you watched the steam rising from the mug swirl and dance, and by the time it finally cooled you were already asleep.

And the cycle continued. In the moments you had the strength, you wept. And in the moments you didn’t, you slept.

It was after five days that Madja visited to replenish your medicine. The healer opened the door to your apartment when her knocks went unanswered, casting the first bit of natural light in the room in days. With your back facing outwards, you didn’t stir as she walked over and immediately collecting the assortment of mugs on the floor.

“Have you left this room at all?”

You offered a small shake of your head, unable to lift it from your pillow, your eyes red and stiff with dried tears.

“Have you eaten?”

Your stillness was her answer. Madja sighed. “Well we simply can't have that. I understand a loss for appetite, so I will bring some additional brews to keep you sustained.”

“I don't want them.” It took all your strength to turn over your shoulder and look at the healer, your voice hoarse having gone days without speaking.

She simply shook her head as she looked down at you. You do not have a choice, her expression read.

“Might you try to get some fresh air? Or bathe? I can assist with both if you–“

But you were already turning your shoulder to the wall, immediately exhausted at the thought of leaving your bed. “I’ll do it tomorrow Madja,” you sighed. “I’m too tired in this moment.” You didn't have the energy to wonder if she bought your lie or not.

The healer said nothing as she closed the door quietly behind her.

————

“I’m concerned for her wellbeing.” Madja sat opposite the High Lord and Lady in their study, a large willow desk between them. Rhys sat with his hands laced together tightly, a deep frown etched on his face. Feyre beside him held a sleeping Nyx, doing her best to not stir the babe while she exchanged looks of deep concern.

“She isn't eating. She barely drinks a thing, and has failed to take much of her medicine. If she continues at this rate, she will fall much more ill.”

“What can we do?” Feyre asked gently, stroking Nyx’s hair while he snoozed at her chest.

“I don’t suggests interfering at this stage. I am only here to warn you of my concerns.”

“And what happens if she worsens?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes holding the stare of the healer in front of him.

“I will call for you then. I hate to suggest the use of your daemati abilities, but if it comes down to life or death…” Madja trailed off, her hands clamping even tighter in her lap.

“We understand,” Rhys responded with a single nod, casting a knowing look to his mate. “Thank you for coming here, Madja.”

The healer stood to leave. “Do not thank me. Again, I am clear to not involve myself in what has occurred between you and Y/N. I am here purely as her healer.”

The High Lord and Lady stood too, seeing her to the door.

“Please keep us informed, and if there is anything that we can provide,” Feyre added quickly, almost desperate to convey her care.

Madja responded with a tight nod, turning to leave. And had she left only moments earlier, she would have found two Illyrians by the door, overhearing the entire conversation. But they were already on their way.

————

Lost again in deep sleep, you didn't stir as the Shadowsinger and General entered your apartment, Azriel’s shadow’s having easily pried the lock open.

The sight of your trembling figure curled up on the mattress pulled at both their hearts, your hands fisted at the covers with deep yet disturbed sleep.

Azriel stealthily made his way across to the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the room. With no dining table or chair in sight, Cassian set the meal they had bought in the small kitchen before quietly approaching you. He knelt down on two strong knees, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before gently shaking you.

“Y/N, wake up doll, it’s us,” he spoke with a hushed voice.

Stirring slightly, you were slow to wake, blinking through the darkness as you were sure you were still dreaming. But as your eyes cleared, the large figure in front of you revealed itself – wings tucked in, hair pulled back in a signature bun, leather strapped up to his knuckles. Cassian was the definition of strength met with comfort, and it took you a few moments to come to your senses.

Your body froze before you sat up quickly, shoving his hands off of you. “Wh-wh?” you stuttered, your eyes dancing between his.

Cassian raised his palms in surrender. “It’s alright, don't panic. We’re just here to help you with a few things.”

Your found your voice then, deep from within your chest, hoarse and broken from days of crying. “Get out,” you spat.

Azriel appeared from the bathroom, watching from the doorway. You flashed your eyes to his, rage quickly filling your veins. How dare they intrude.

“We just want to make sure you’re all right sweetheart, and then we’ll go,” Cassian reasoned. He stood now, offering you his hand.

Days without eating meant the hurry you stood in caused your head to spin, black dots now dancing in your vision. But you held your ground, your voice even icier than before. “I said get out.”

“C’mon doll, let us help you for five minutes.”

“You’re idea of help undid everything I ever worked for.” You shoved at his chest, and he let you push him a few steps back, your hands trembling as you pulled them back.

“Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Azriel’s voice was gentle too, your vision reeling as you whipped your head to glare in his direction. Shaking your head, you curled your hands to fists. It was none of their business.

“Please, sweetheart,” Cassian reached for you then, which earned another shove from you.

“No Cassian! No! Do you understand you have done? Did you even consider what would happen when you decided I wasn't good enough?”

“It wasn’t like that Y/N. We had to keep you safe.” Azriel stayed by the bathroom door, his arms now crossed as shadows slowly seeped on the wooden floor towards you.

Days of isolation and exhaustion had tears pricking at your eyes already. “You are cowards. And I want nothing to do with either of you.”

“Please Y/N–,” Cassian tried one more time.

“Get out of my life.” You had never uttered words so cold. You shoved the General again, but this time he stayed put. Your gritted your teeth, seething at him. “You broke me!”

Cassian looked down at you, his brow pulling in sorrow.

“You shattered my world.” Another unsuccessful push, and you were crying. “Now I have nothing, I am nothing.”

Both of them watched you as your face crumpled, your anger rising as you punched at Cassian’s chest, too weak to cause any harm. “I hate you!”

Cassian’s eyes welled as he stood still, taking the beating without so much as a flinch. “We’re so sorry,” he whispered.

You shook your head, ignoring his apology as you began pounding against him with weak fists. “I hate you both!”

Tears now rolled down the General’s cheek as he let you continue your assault. “We’re so so sorry Y/N.”

You kept shaking your head as Cassian caught both of your wrists, holding them as he took to one knee in front of you.

“We love you,” Cassian cried, prying your fist open and kissing your palm, kissing up your arm, his thumb stroking your hand in the way he knew soothed you. “Please forgive us.”

You broke at his plea. He was a good male, they both were. But they had turned your heart to stone, turned you to someone so damaged, so unrelenting and unforgiving, someone you never wanted to be. You were a monster of their own making, and there was no undoing it. Sobs racked through your body, and it took everything you had not to crumble to the ground.

Azriel was behind you then, his shadows curling around your exposed skin, soothing you where they could. You did not fight him, not as he took your hands from Cassian, not as he too kissed your tears away while murmuring his own apologies, not even when he lifted you from under your knees, carrying you to the bathroom. You hated him, your mind screaming at you to yell and hiss and spit, to swear him from your home and from your life. But in this moment, where exhaustion and isolation loomed, you had no more fight to give.

Azriel didn’t speak as he undressed you before placing you in the tub. You were still crying as he washed you, scarred hands so attentive to your body, the sound of water sloshing and pouring over your head mixing with your laboured breaths. You kept your knees to your chest, your head turned away, but you let him scrub you clean.

He gently pulled you from the tub into a fresh towel, wrapping you in the soft cotton before lifting you again. Your apartment had come to life with a small fire Cassian had lit, low flames flickering with warmth.

Azriel moved to sit on the bed, keeping you bundled in his lap. Cassian was crouched in front of you, his hands holding a vial of stew, the steaming contents bought to your mouth on a spoon.

“Eat this,” Cassian said gently. You wanted to be stubborn, to fight them more than the pathetic amount you already had. But your stomach cramped with hunger at the scent of the stew, and you were to weak to refuse it. So you let Cassian feed you, your body growing more and more slack the fuller your stomach became. A vial of medicine was quickly tipped against your lips too, and you swallowed its contents with a small whimper.

In your exhausted haze, your hardly noticed Azriel dress you in fresh clothes, even braiding your hair before he lay you down, pulling the covers over your.

Cassian and Azriel were watching you as you fought your sleep, heavy eyes lifting to find them.

“I meant what I said.” Your voice was a mere whisper

They exchanged a look, before Cassian crouched to pull the covers closer to your chin. “We know.”

There was a beat of silence. “I want you to leave me be.”

“Not until you start taking care of yourself,” Azriel spoke, his voice soft yet strict. You didn't have any energy to fight back, to tell him he could blame himself for the spiral you had entered.

“Go,” your rasped before turning your back to them, enticed by the comfort of sleep with a full belly, clean clothes and warm apartment.

“Rest up Y/N.” Cassian’s words were a lullaby you couldn’t fight.

“We love you,” Azriel added, and the last thing you felt was the caress of cool shadows at your neck before you drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

————

Waking to sunlight, you felt notably stronger than you had in days. You knew it was because of the care Azriel and Cassian had provided, which frustrated you to your core.

Azriel’s words rung clear in your mind. They would not leave you be until you started to take care of yourself, so you would leverage the strength you had to come up with a plan.

It only took a few days for your Uncle to reply. Yes, he still had his home by the lake. Yes, you could stay with him as long as you needed. There was work to be done in Spring Court, rehabilitation and building after Hybern had depleted almost every resource from the lands, Tamlin not yet strong enough to recoup his court after the war. You could find sanction there, help others and distract yourself with work. And most importantly, distance yourself from the people you once loved.

With your next steps laid clear, you sent a letter to the River House, asking for one final favour.

————

Rhysand was waiting at the River House terrace alone as promised. Cloaked in signature black, he watched the stars dance in the night sky with a gentle grip on the railing, his back to you as you approached.

This was the same terrace that had hosted many evening drinks, jokes and conversations shared with your family, and even offered the much needed escape away from the buzz of various balls and celebrations. A twinge of pain stabbed at your heart at those memories. Today, it was just a terrace, a mere meeting point before you stepped towards your new life.

It was unsurprising Rhys had heeded your instruction to meet you alone, you knew he would do it. You wondered if he lied about his whereabouts, or if he instead warded your presence from the others. He had likely hidden your scent from Cassian and Azriel, but what about his mate?

Saying goodbye to Feyre and Rhys at the same time had felt far too painful, impossible even. While they were equals, High Lord and Lady as well as mates, they were still very different beings. Feyre was too forgiving, too caring and loving to have reached this point on her own. It needed to be Rhys, you needed to direct this at someone who could take it, someone who deserved it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, turning now, hands sliding to his pockets. You ignored his question, stopping a few paces away. Tension hung heavy between you.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said tightly. Rhysand didn't speak, but offered an arm to the seating behind you. You sat down silently, your last act of obedience.

“I can no longer serve the Night Court,” you said plainly.

Rhysand didn’t flinch, wise enough to have known this was coming. “That does not mean you don't have a home here,” he answered calmly, as if that logic was reason enough to stay.

You shook your head stubbornly. “Please accept my resignation.”

Rhysand sighed then, leaning forward on his elbows to level a look at you. “I’m aware, Y/N, and I accept. This formality isn’t necessary.”

You knew that, it wasn't why you were here. Rhysand waited patiently for you to continue.

“I need a favour.”

“Anything,” he responded almost instantly.

“I need you to let me leave.”

Rhysand sat back now, a small frown pulling at his brow. “The choice has always been yours.”

Shaking your head, you looked up at the High Lord. “I don't trust that wherever I go, I won't be followed.”

Rhysand raised his brows.

“After recent events, I know Azriel and Cassian won't allow me that freedom.”

Rhysand let out a quick breath before nodding once, violet eyes finding the nights horizon. “I’ll ask them to adhere to your wishes.”

“As if that is enough,” you bit back, ice laced in your tone. “Pull rank, use your power, lie or cheat or trick, I don't really care. Just make it happen, it’s the least I deserve.”

Rhysand breathed quietly as he studied you. “Consider it done,” he said finally.

Gratefulness was an instinct, but you stubbornly bit down your thanks. Instead, a moment of silence fell between you.

“Where are you going?” Rhys pried.

“Do not ask me that.”

“I care for your safety.”

“I don’t want your care.”

Rhysand audibly sighed then, one hand reaching at the distance between you, finding place on the chase. “Tell me, Y/N. Say it out loud.”

You flashed your eyes to him. He looked back at you, his expression worried, concerned, pitying. Gods you hated that look.

“There is no point,” you said coldly, struggling to hide the grit of your teeth.

“I can take it,” he said softly.

Rage coursed through you at an uncontrollable speed. “You think I'm sparing you?” You let out a cold laugh, moments away from that savage, lethal switch, your power now stinging at your fingertips.

“I think you’re far from having faced the truth.”

A snarled escaped you, and you could feel your power surge, igniting your irises with a brilliant yellow. Had you not been so blind with anger, you might have realised this was exactly what Rhysand intended.

“It’s the truth you seek then?” you began. “How about the fact that you have plagued my heart with more hate than I ever believed possible. Shall I tell you of the shame that haunts me day and night that I let myself trust you for all these years? Or that I was naive enough to think I could find another family after Meryl’s death? But it would seem the only family I have is dead, and it has in fact always been that way. You broke me Rhys, you all broke me. I was a fool to have loved you so dearly, and ignorant to believe you ever loved me in the same way.”

Hot, angry tears streamed down your face, washing away the current that glowed in your eyes. Pressing a hand against your heart, you tried to smother the ache that throbbed at your confession. “You preach of a better court, one of choice and freedom and honour. But you snatched that away the moment it was mine for the taking.”

Rhys had kept his eyes on you, his face breaking with a little more sorrow at each sentence you spoke. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re absolutely right.” He waited a moment before placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Mother above cannot convey how sorry I am Y/N.”

You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. It wasn't enough, you knew that, and Rhys knew it too.

His voice was even more gentle as he leaned forward. “I love you Y/N. Well all love you.”

Your voice was small now. “Not in the way I loved you. Not in the way family should love one another.”

“I disagree,” he countered. “You have to understand, as your High Lord, I would never send you to your death knowingly.”

“I wouldn't have died in vain,” you quietly, breaking his gaze with a flicker of shame. “All I ever wanted was a chance to make things right.”

You shocked yourself with the weight of your words, the extent of your willingness to avenge Meryl was something you hadn't even admitted to yourself. You would have died with content knowing you had at least tried to kill Alvar. But Rhys had seen that in you, well before you understood it for yourself. And together your family decided instead to keep you safe.

“I was hoping your motivation no longer overthrew your will to live,” Rhys admitted. With a deep sigh he cupped your chin in a parent-like way. “Look at me.” Whether you liked it or not, your eyes found his.

“Imagine I had taken the time to let you kill Alvar and instead he escaped, and innocent Velarians were hurt because of it – would you forgive me for putting your needs above their safety?”

Your eyes welled. “How could you ask me that Rhys?”

“I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just trying to show you the weight of the decision I had to make.” He offered you a broken smile, reaching to swipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. To your own surprise, you let him.

“That is not the only issue here.” Your voice was thick, your throat strained as you contained the sob that jerked within. “You’ve asked me to see it from your perspective, now please consider mine. You collectively decided that the mission would be kept a secret. You banded together to act dishonestly, knowing it would ruin me. How can I ever trust you again? How am I supposed to see you as my family?”

Rhys closed his eyes as his brows gave a painful tug, a deep breath pushing out through his nose. A large hand rested gently on your knee, his thumb swiping in a sympathetic way.

“I’ll admit Y/N – I knew that this would hurt you, but I never thought we’d lose you entirely.”

You sniffed. “Then you underestimated me.”

Rhys’s violet eyes found yours, sincerity and admiration shining in the stars that beheld them. “I did. I absolutely did.” He took another deep breath before speaking. “I’m a fool to have underestimated your loyalty, your dedication and your bravery. Over 500 years in existence, and I should have known that was never mine to control.”

You stared back at him, and while the ache in your heart was far from cured, a small sense of calm washed over you. It was relief you desperately needed – to finally be understood. “Thank you for saying that,” you croaked.

Rhys watched you with a pained smile. “I only want good things for you Y/N, wherever you choose to be. You will always have a home here if you want it, if you can ever forgive us for what we did.”

And in those words, a new well opened in your heart, one that you had not seen coming.

Hearing Rhys acknowledge your decision to leave the Night Court was devastating, so much so that your hand instinctively pressed agains your heart again. There would be no more fighting or pleading, no more fists thrown or cries of rage and confessions of love. He would let you go, because you had asked it. It was the least you deserved, yet it hurt in an entirely new way.

Ahead of you, the path of solitude lay clear. You had fought for it without any idea how painful it would be to take that first step. You couldn't help the sob that escaped you as you dropped your head to your hands.

“I never wanted to leave,” you admitted through ragged breaths.

Rhys bought a gentle hand to your back. “Then stay.”

“I can’t! I can’t stay here. I am so angry with you, all of you! And I don't think I’ll ever be strong enough to forgive this, not fully.” Your cries were uncontrollable as you tried to quiet them with your hands.

Rhys was stroking your hair as he said ever so softly. “I know.”

You sniffed, blinking up at your High Lord. “There’s nothing left for me here.” There was a cold bite to your words, even as you let him comfort you.

“I know,” he repeated with that same softness and understanding.

You watched him for a moment longer. Here he was, everything you needed in a High Lord – a leader and a friend, saying all the right things in all the right ways. But he was flawed, like anyone, and that flaw had been your downfall.

“I will be leaving Velaris tonight. Please, don't ask for my whereabouts. I need… I need a clean break.”

Rhys brow twitched before he nodded tightly. “You have my word.”

Gathering yourself, you stood to smooth your skirts before looking up at your High Lord for the final time. “I will miss Nyx dearly.”

Pain sliced across Rhysand’s face in a way you had never seen, tears immediately pricking at his violet eyes. He swallowed, containing himself still. “I wish it could have been any other way Y/N, truly.”

“As do I.”

And that was all that could be said. You turned from him, pacing towards the exit while casting your eyes to the magnificent array of stars, searing the Velarian night sky to memory as you admired its beauty for the final time.

“You must know!” Rhys spoke out, a hint of urgency in his tone. “It was fear Y/N. It was fear of losing you, not ever a lack of love.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you nodded once, a broken smile on your lips. “I know,” you spoke, biting back the quiver in your lip. “I know that now.”

And you let those words be your last at the Court of Night.

--------

Part 3>>>>

AN: Thank you so much for your patience with this, I hope you guys like it! ❤️

YES there will be a Part 3. Update: Part 3 is out. I’m super keen to explore how things go for the Reader in Spring Court, and maybe even weave in a little bit of redemption for a certain blondey?? Besides, there are still some things that have gone unsaid between the Reader and the boys... and she needs to figure out these powers! Watch this space 👀

Comment to my tag list (either general or for Our girl) 😊

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hi!! before i spill my ask i just wanted to say how much i love your blog! i truly think you’re one of the best writers not only in this fandom, but this platform, so thank you for sharing your amazing work with us <3

i was wondering if you could write something about reader and steve falling asleep on the couch after a movie night, and steve picks the reader up and carries her to bed? extra ooey gooey for stevie <3

thank you 😭🧡

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

But Steve’s house was warm and so much quieter than yours, one of the upsides to the lack of parental supervision. The living room was lit by the glow of a lamp in the furthest corner, a yellow peach blanket that settled over the couch you were lying on.

Steve was a solid warmth behind you, his arm a comforting weight over the dip of your waist and his breath blew gently on the nape of your neck, a rhythmic thing that lulled you deeper into him and the sofa cushions. You weren’t sure what movie was on now, you’d lost track. You were kiss drunk, lips bitten shades of pink and red from Steve’s affections and now you were surrounded by him, swaddled in one of his old high school sweaters and a pair of his boxers he certainly wasn’t getting back.

And when his hand slipped inside of your shirt and his thumb drew lazy, nonsensical patterns over the soft of your belly, you didn’t even worry about sucking it in. You hummed, a greedy, languid sound that Steve laughed breathily at and your eyes slipped closed before the title scene was finished playing on the television screen.

When you opened them again, your vision was fuzzy at the edges, the credits rolling on a black TV. Steve was gone from behind you, managing to move without waking you but his hand on your bare ankle stirred you from sleep. He was perched on his heels on the floor, his eyes warmer than the room as he looked at you, a lovesick expression that made your stomach tumble in the most lovely way.

“Baby,” his voice was soft, scratchy and sleep slurred, like he’d fallen asleep just like you had. He had a cushion crease across one cheek, the collar of his old T-shirt stretched out to show off a collarbone. “You wanna go to bed?”

You made a noise, neither agreeing nor arguing, but you buried your face into the couch all the same, nose smushed against the fabric. You heard Steve laugh, loving the sound, adoring the way his hand smoothed up the line of your calf even more. His fingers rubbed at the sensitive skin behind the crook of your knee.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he coaxed. “You’ll be much comfier in bed.”

Steve didn’t carry you to bed, although you were sure he would if you’d have asked. He did haul you off of the sofa though, making a show of it as you both groaned and smothered your laughter. And when you finally made it to the foot of the stairs, Steve stood behind you the entire time, his hands on your hips, your waist, guiding you into his room where your pillow lay next to his.

[hollyseb]

BARTENDER (part 1)

You need to make ends meet. How far are you willing to go?

Mob! Bucky x Reader

Authors note; this is my first fic. Pls be nice :)

Warnings; drinking. Minors DNI. Will get saucier lol.

Who am I? You were staring at yourself in the mirror of your janky apartment. Little red dress, white thigh high lacey socks. This wasn’t you. You felt silly. But you needed this

Since finishing college, the job market had been dry. You were broke. Undeniably. The rent payments are piling up, student loans begging to be paid, your unforgiving landlord constantly up your ass.

You smoothed down your dress, reminding yourself that this was temporary, just to make ends meet before finding a job in your field. You couldn’t deny that despite feeling a little on-show, you looked hot. Your dress hugging your curves, and your heels making your legs look everlong.

You’d picked up a job at a club uptown. You’d never been but you knew it was high-end, elite, and intimidating. Powerful men frequented this club. You were dreading meeting them; misogynists and man-whores, you thought. It’s okay, I’m just a waitress. Your only job was to serve at the bar, and deliver drinks to those rich enough to reserve tables. All I need to do is look good and smile.

Your best friend, Nat, had managed to land the job for you. She’d been working at the club for 6 months, and the money was supposedly “incredible”. You remembered laughing at that, accusing her of flirting with the regulars.

With that thought, you picked up your jacket, hugging it around your body, and headed out the door.

You adapted to the job easily enough; the thumping music, the strobing lights. Nat was constantly approaching you, checking in on you, “you’re okay right? Well you look amazing”, she whispered in your ear, winking at you, as you poured another drink.

She helped you climatize to the new environment. When service slowed, you found yourself drinking in those who frequented the club. The men on the floor were sleazy, approaching women while heavily drunk. The girls were dancing, swinging their hips, some finding company in those men. A part of you was envious, this had never been your scene and you felt a little excluded.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by Natasha asking you to drop some drinks off at one of the reserved tables. You felt a little reluctant, the table being hidden by a velvet curtain. You had yet to do this part of the job yet. I wish I could eye them up before approaching. Another part of you felt a little excited though, anticipatory.

You headed to the table, deep and low voices sounding. Some men were laughing, and others engaging in low conversation. Pulling the curtain back, a silence fell across the group of men sitting in the secluded area. You paused, taken aback. You had semi-expected the men to ignore your presence, you hadn’t expected this.

“H-hello. I have five whiskey cokes?” Your voice came across weaker than you hoped under the intimidating stares of the men. You hated the way your claim sounded like a question.

Your eyes fell upon the man at the head of the table. All black suit, perfectly tailored, with his hair falling over his piercing blue eyes. He wreaked power. His eyes were raking over your face. Drinking you in. You felt the breath get stuck in your throat when you met his eyes. He is gorgeous.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” a deep voice emerged from the man. It posed more of a statement than a question. Could he sense your anxiety?

“Yes I am”, you were painstakingly aware of how breathy your voice sounded, and also of how you were still awkwardly standing with the tray in your hands.

You eyed the other men, seeing the way their eyes dragged over your body, your curves. You felt naked. The eyes of the man at the head of the table had never left your face. He was enamored.

You cleared your throat and placed the tray on the corner of the table, trying to hide the way your hands were beginning to tremble. God, why am I shaking? You shot the men a fake smile before spinning on your heel and pulling back the curtain, their eyes burning into your ass.

When you had left the table, Bucky cleared his throat. “Get her name. Her social media. Her address. I want to know everything about her”.

Once leaving the room, you hunted your best friend down. “Nat, the men I delivered those drinks to…”, you waved your hands incredulously, reminiscing on the tense encounter and expecting her to have an explanation.

“Yes?” She smirked. She knew exactly what you were referencing. The intensity, the intimidation.

“What the hell was that? I mean- the guy at the head of the table… questioned me about being new, and the rest of them… ugh”, you rambled, your hands punctuating your questions.

“Oh…”, she raised her eyebrows at you, her face glowering in how she knew information that you didn’t, “the guy that questioned you, yeah he owns the club”, her smirk growing into a Cheshire Cat grin. She knew she had dropped you in the deep end.

Your eyebrows practically flew into your hairline, “the o-owner? God, Nat I’ve made a clutz of mysel-, I was stood there with the tray for so long, he must think I’m so stupi-”

She cut you off. “Well, at least he actually acknowledged you. He never even looks at the rest of us”, she explained, only exaggerating your confusion. “Shame really, considering he is probably the most attractive man I’ve ever seen, I mean, I would”, she winked at you again.

You laughed at that, knowing that she really would. She always knew what to say, and she was right. He really was breath-taking. But, he was also your boss. He probably only noticed me because I did something wrong.

You didn’t allow yourself to dwell on the encounter, convincing yourself that you were overthinking the fire in his eyes. He was staring at you because you were so awkward. He could tell you felt out-of-place, you thought, sighing to yourself and shaking the thoughts. Serving people drinks and cleaning the bar made for the perfect distraction.

The night continued without event, you were glad. You felt yourself ease up over time, Nat making you giggle as drunk men tipped you rather excessively. You weren’t sure if it was your best friend's humour, or the feeling of knowing you’d managed to cover this week's rent, but you felt pleased.

You picked up your coat, and slung your bag over your shoulder, deciding to call a cab to get home. You felt eyes on you as you hugged Nat goodbye. Looking over her shoulder, you locked eyes with that man again. Your boss. Stood at the top of the stairs, overlooking the bar. In a vast crowd of people, his eyes were narrowed in on you. You unlocked from Nat, drowning out her qualms about letting her know when you arrived home safely. You couldn't focus on anything else. He was the epitome of power; tall, broad, perfectly tailored.

You had to force yourself to rip your eyes from his, bidding Nat a farewell and heading out the door.

Bucky watched you until the door shielded you from view. He was fixated. It was only when Steve slapped his hand down on Bucky’s shoulder that he was brought back to the present.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through her body if you keep staring at her like that, pal”, Steve stated teasingly. He saw the way you commanded his friends' attention from the second you approached the table. It had been a long time since he had seen someone have such an effect on him.

Bucky turned to Steve, an exhale escaping his nose, “she is… certainly something”.

Steve continued, “… innocent, right?”, eyeing Bucky for his reaction. He tread on eggshells, he knew Bucky had taken a shine to you, he didn’t want to overstep.

Bucky nodded, his jaw twitching, “too innocent to be working here”. The pair nodded in unison.

You stepped outside and took a deep breath, relishing in the relief of being released from his intense gaze. You hailed a cab, being pleasantly surprised by the car that rolled up to you. Sleek and matte. A Mercedes. This was the nicest taxi you’d ever seen. When the taxi pulled up to your apartment block, you attempted to pay him with a remainder of your tips.

“Fee has been covered by… James Buchanan Barnes”.

Part 2 here https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/737991483216494592/bartender-part-2

[star-light-imagines]

Can you make bakugou meeting his future son?

I imagine he has a son just like he is

✧. ┊ Thank you for the request! This was really fun to put together, I hope you enjoy it as much as I had writing it.

✧. ┊ Also to everyone who enjoyed the Daddy? post, It will be getting a part two soon and possibly a part three & four for pro hero's and villains. (More notes on this in A/N at the end.)

Like Father, Like Son.

┊͙✧˖*° Includes- katsuki bakugou x reader. future son. class 1-A. fluff. comfort. mini bakugou. cute dad moments. bonus content.

┊͙✧˖*° Warnings- gn! reader mentioned. excessive cussing. season five spoilers.

┊͙✧˖*° Word Count- 10,313

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

The days still grew cold as winter was slowly turning into spring, the wind would howl in his ears and his cheeks would turn numb from exposure while he protrolled with Endeavor, Shoto, and Deku. Bakugou shivered as ducked his face into the high collar of his hero costume, attempting to block the direct hit from the bitter chill as he propelled himself through the air with his explosions.

Endeavor suddenly landed onto a high building roof while he surveyed the area around him, the three interns quickly caught up and each landed onto the roof with heavy feet. Silence filled the air as their eyes darted rapidly trying to find the next emergency they would rush off to before Endeavor could.

"You three still can't beat me to the scene. Heh." He scoffed as he glanced over his shoulder at them.

Katsuki's anger bubbled over, ears red and numb from the wind blowing around them. His crimson eyes flared with the frustration that was running through his veins.

" I HATE THE WINTER! IF IT WASN'T FOR THIS GODDAMN COLD I WOULD BE OUT TIMING YOU IN SPEED OLD MAN!"

Shoto and Deku watched as Bakugou continued to let out the built up frustration he had been compressing the last few days. Endeavor sighed at the sight, his demeanor grew more intimidating as he waited for the ashy blonde to finish his unsightly temper tantrum.

Were these boys really Shoto's friends?

Bakugou heaved, angrily breathing in air while he calmed down, his clenched jaw relaxing as silence surrounded them. Endeavor clicked his tongue in annoyance, turning his back on him once more to look at the people below.

"Are you done with that childish rant? I've already told you don't make cold weather an excuse for you falling short. Figure out a way to get stronger."

Bakugou scoffed but stayed silent as he listened to the number one hero. The three boys watched him with intent analyzing his actions and the city that surrounded them, before Endeavor's stern voice cut through the air once more.

"You have been tasked with defeating a villain faster than I can, of course I'm not going to make it easy for you otherwise you wouldn't learn anything."

Determination rose in the boys at the words, the fire under their drive to beat him being furiously relit. Endeavor jumped off the side of the building propelling himself towards the next crisis, the interns eagerly running and throwing themselves into the air after him. Bakugou was right behind his mentor, nearly at his heels as the corner of his mouth quirked up a wide smirk forming. His palms crackled loudly, bursting more explosions from his hands in order to close the gap between him and the number one hero ahead of him. He felt the heat rise throughout his body as his hands simmered under the gloves, finally warming him up in the cold as he raced towards the target.

I'm almost there, just have to push a little bit more.

A dim light fading out in a passing alleyway caught the corner of his eyes, He squinted while he glanced at Endeavor who was still heading fast towards the original crime scene. Bakugou's thoughts gnawed on him as he tried to ignore the light he had seen, but something was telling him he needed to turn around and investigate. He tried to fight the urge, he was so close to victory and finally fulfilling the task he had been given at the start of their internship.

He glowered at himself as he slowed his pace and turned back towards the alleyway, Shoto and Deku exchanged a wide eyed expression as they called out to him briefly, stopping in confusion at his actions.

"Bakugou! Where are you going?!"

Bakugou didn't stop to answer their calls, nor did he spare them another glance as he made his way towards the now faded light. Shoto and Deku worried on who to follow before ultimately deciding to trust him with what he was doing while they continued to follow Endeavor.

His expression dulled as the alleyway came back into view, he surveyed the area as his feet landed loudly on the concrete. He kept his guard up as he took in his surroundings, the alleyway seemed deserted but he wasn't going to take a chance at being unprepared for an attack. His pupils flared and eyebrows furrowed as he heard movement from further down, a scowl returned to his features as voice rang out echoing off the walls loudly.

"HEY BASTARD! GET THE HELL OUT HERE BEFORE I DRAG YOU OUT, YOU GODDAMN COWARD!" Bakugou demanded.

He heard feet shuffling from the side of the dumpster a few feet away from him, His hands crackled in anticipation as he readied himself for a fight.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" He cursed, his lips drew back in snarl as he took in the figure in front of him.

A six year old boy stood there in shorts and a short sleeve shirt, his thoughts raced through protocols on missing children as he leered down at the kid.

"Damn! What's your name kid?" He asked, his tone going softer as the rush of adrenaline dwindled down.

The boy kept his face lowered towards the ground, ashy blonde hair covering his eyes as his body visibly shivered from the cold. Annoyance rose within him as he waited for the kid to answer, clicking his tongue when it was obvious he wasn't going to receive one.

"Hey, you don't know how to talk or something?! If you want help, answer otherwise stop wasting my time and leave." A vein popped out of his neck as he spat harshly.

Another breeze blew through the alleyway causing the boy to shudder and wrap his arms around his torso. His face looked up suddenly, eyes still closed with the faintest sign of tear streaks running down his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed tensely as he shouted out.

"KATSURO BAKUGOU! YOU ASSHOLE!"

Katsuki's body tensed, the color drained out of his face as the name echoed into his ears. His hands clenched, nails digging into his palms hard enough to rip through his gloves. His mind reeled at the information, crimson eyes darted quickly over the boy's physical features and appearance.

Could it be a coincidence? Was Bakugou a common last name and what about how he looks... he's practically...?

"Why are you silent after yelling so much you jerk?! Are you even a real hero?! My daddy said 'extras' like you should all go to hell!" The boy ranted angrily, finally opening his eyes to meet the hero standing in front of him.

Recognition dawned on the tiny face as bright e/c eyes started deeply into his crimson ones. His mouth hung wide open before he quickly slammed it shut and his awe was turned to anger, his tiny fist clenched at his sides as he snarled up at Katsuki.

"Daddy! Why are you playing such a dirty prank?! Wandering off this time wasn't even my fault, so stop being a jerk. "

"HUH?"

Katsuki's mind froze the moment the boy addressed him as daddy, his whole body went cold as he tried to process the information.

"This isn't funny anymore! Let's go home!"

"Kid, I don't know what's going but I'm for sure not-" Katsuki paused upon seeing the look of fear in the child's eyes as he willed himself to push back the unshed tears.

God damnit! I can't just leave him here on the street.

He kneeled down and quickly grabbed the boy and easily threw him over his shoulder. The boy let out a shocked gasp and Katsuki started walking down the alleyway towards the street.

"What are you doing?" Katsuro asked while he looked around his surroundings.

"Taking you somewhere warm."

"Took you long enough."

"Shut Up Runt!"

"You shut up Old Man!"

"HEH!" Katsuki scoffed, growing annoyed at the boy over his shoulder.

An idea swept through his mind briefly before moved his grip towards the boy's ankles and dragged him off his shoulder to instead leave him dangling in the air. The child gasped in shock from the sudden movement as his head was now dangling above the concrete.

"I dare you to say it again." Katsuki sneered, taking pleasure in the brief look of fear that flickered over the boy's features.

The boy twisted around to where he was facing Bakugou before lifting his palms in frustration. Bright explosions crackled and popped in the six years old hands as he swung towards the man holding him, one small explosion managing to actually hit him. However, due to the low impact power, it didn't do anything to him other than cause him to pause at the realization that the boy had the same quirk, no had his quirk.

The civilians that walked around them gawked and gossiped in shock at the abrasive way he was handling the child, he huffed out in annoyance before readjusting his grip on the kid and holding him properly in his arms.

"I don't need you to carry me! I can walk on my own!" He huffed, puffing out his cheeks in frustration at being carried like a child.

"You'll slow me down."

"Heh! You're the one who is slow, asswipe."

Bakugou's steps paused for a moment as his eye twitched in anger, before he compressed the feeling down.

I've never wanted to beat up a child more than I do right now.

Katsuro continuously glanced at Bakugou throughout the walk, taking in the features that were so similar and yet so different from his father at the same time. His mind buzzed while it searched for an explanation in the hero's features.

"What?!" Bakugou sneered, noticing the boy looking at him carefully with furrowed brows.

"Did you get hit by a quirk? Why do you look like your high school yearbook picture?"

Bakugou remained silent to the child's question, his eyebrows furrowed as he pieced together information. This kid was to similar too him, looked too much like him to not be related by blood. The quirk alone convinced him of that fact as if the spiked ashy blonde hair and facial features wasn't enough. This was his child from the future, and for an unknown reason he had shown up in the past. He had gotten lucky to briefly notice the light in the alleyway and find the child, it had his thoughts going on haywire.

If someone had known I was going to be there, it would make sense why I was able to find him rather than someone else.

The thoughts did nothing to settle his restless state of mind, it only caused him to become more anxious and in need of answers.

The silence that remained between the two seemed to answer Katsuro's question even though Bakugou hadn't verbally replied. He turned his head away, sadness clouded his features as he pieced together the information he had and the moments leading up to appearing in the alleyway.

"I'm in the past, aren't I?"

"Yeah." He mumbled back.

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Bakugou saw Endeavor and the others in the distance, he used his quirk to propel him into the air, closing the gap quickly between them all while the boy excitedly laughed as the wind blew through his hair. The number one hero eyed the boy with a suspicious gaze before placing a stern pointed glare at his intern.

"You disappeared." He noted flatly.

"Keh! I saw something you missed, an abandoned kid in an alleyway. So much for being able to notice everything even before it happens huh?" The explosive blonde mocked.

"And you didn't feel the need to report your whereabouts to anyone?"

"Would have taken too long. What's the problem? I'm here now aren't I?"

Endeavor sighed deeply while closing his eyes in frustration, already growing tired of the conversation. When his eyes reopened he focused them on the ashy blonde boy who had climbed out of Bakugou's arms and jumped onto the concrete beside him. The resemblance between the two was shocking, if it weren't for the e/c eyes the boy would have been a miniature clone of Bakugou and the thought alone was unsettling for the number one hero.

"Who is the kid?"

Bakugou tensed slightly before quickly regaining composure, however the slight slip didn't go unnoticed by Endeavour. He let out a harsh breath and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, preparing himself as well as the rest of the group for his next words.

"This is my son-"

"YOU HAVE A CHILD!? IN HIGH SCHOOL!? HOW IRRESPONSIBLE! SHOTO I DON'T CONDONE YOU BEING FRIENDS WITH THIS DELINQUENT!" Endeavor raged, interrupting Bakugou.

"SHUT UP!" Bakugou continued.

"This is my son from the future."

Crimson eyes meet turquoise as Bakugou and Endeavor glared at each other in a silent battle, sharp gasps filled the air at the reveal as Shoto and Deku processed the information.

"Convenient."

"Whatever Old Man, like I need to explain anything to you."

Katsuro had observed the interaction's in amusement, a bright smirk formed on his lips as he laughed happily. Deku had managed to regain his composure from the sudden shock of his childhood friend suddenly appearing with a future child and had made his way over to Katsuro, a gentle smile on his lips as he kneeled down to the boy's height and waved in greeting.

"Hello! I'm Izuku Midoryia, but you can call me Deku. What's your name?"

"Katsuro Bakugou! Are you really Deku?" He questioned.

"Yes, is there something wrong?" Deku anxiously replied.

"The Deku in the future is way cooler."

"Wha-" Deku stuttered before being interrupted.

"Heh?" Bakugou scoffed, instantly irritated at the boy's words.

"Deku? Cool?"

"Deku is the greatest! Unlike you Mr. Number Two! No matter how much trouble he's in, he's always the winner and that's why he's my favorite hero. I'm going to be just like him when I grow up and become the number one hero myself!" Katsuro said confidently.

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched, crimson eyes flashed with anger as he glared at the green haired boy still kneeled on the ground. Miniature explosion's crackled in his palms as he clenched his hands, nails digging into his palms once more while his breath quickened.

Wide green eyes glanced up to see the fuming blonde at his side, he nervously backed away from him while he tried to form words but all that came out of his mouth were anxious stammers and incomplete sentences. The blonde lunged at him suddenly, explosion's bursting from his palms that he aimed for Deku's face while he narrowly dodged the attack, the hit grazed his face causing his mask to rip. Endeavor reacted quickly, restraining the explosive blonde and barking out orders that the team is returning back to headquarters for the day.

Katsuro walked beside Endeavor towards the car that was awaiting them, his arms animated as he punched the air while talking about old fight's he had seen of the current number one hero. Bakugou grumbled as he walked beside Shoto and Deku, he lowered his gaze towards the ground in annoyance as his feet continued to harshly stomp the concrete beneath him.

"You know his e/c eyes remind me of someone."

Shoto's sudden voice broke him out of his thoughts, he glanced over at the boy with a glare as he took in the thoughtful expression on his face and furrowed eyebrows.

"Like I care Icy-hot. Deku! Don't think you're better than me just because of what he said, that's still years away and I can change it. I won't lose to you!"

"Okay Kacchan, I won't lose to you either!" Deku Agreed with a smile before continuing "You know, Katsuro is so much like you."

"No shit, he's my kid. We are practically identical."

"I'm not just talking about his looks. What he said about me, well no what he said about the number one hero and why he's the best. It's almost exactly what you said when we were kids, I see a lot of your drive and confidence in him." He said, awe taking over his features as he spoke.

Bakugou remained quiet for a moment as they walked in silence, his spiky hair covering his expression as he continued to look away from the two boys. His neck burned slightly from the rising heat coursing through his body while the tips of his ears turned a slight shade of pink.

"Shut up and die." He barked out with annoyance.

"Hopefully he doesn't take after Bakugou when it comes to his attitude." Shoto added with a playful smirk formed on his lips.

Laughter filled the air around them as the boys went back and forth with remarks and lightheartedly mocking each other. The tension from earlier had finally dissipated from the group as they descended into the car.

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The agency was a safe haven compared to the bitter winter that still raged on outside. The heat instantly warmed up the group as they stepped inside, Katsuro's shivers halted as he began to relax in the cozy heat of the building.

"I can't believe you let your son stay out in the cold for so long without a jacket." Shoto chastised.

"I'm not the one who dressed him dumbass!"

"Still, you couldn't give him your own?"

"Stop telling me what to do!"

Bakugou's eyes found the ashy blonde hair of his son who was happily running around the lounge area. A few sidekicks would share a glance as their eyes darted between the similarities of him and Katsuro, which he would return with heated glare at the noisy employees.

The other sidekicks happily welcomed the child with no questions asked, greeting him with waves and doting on the boy as he introduced himself as the next number one hero confidently. Every so often when he wanted more attention drawn to him, he would show off his quirk and crackle the mini explosions in his palms for the viewer's around him.

"Woah! What a great quirk!"

"You're right! You will definitely be the next number one hero with a quirk like that."

"How flashy!"

Bakugou raked his fingers through his hair as he watched his son be praised for his quirk and the smile that was plastered happily on his face. His thoughts flew back to when he had manifested his quirk and had received just as many compliments that raised his ego growing up.

My mom always said when I had kids they would dish out to me twice as much as I did to her....

....I just wasn't expecting to suffer the consequences so soon.

"Katsuro, why are you wearing summer clothes in the winter?" Deku questioned.

"It was summer before I came here."

Endeavor glanced at the boy, thoughts raced through his mind as his eyes darted towards Bakugou taking in the furrowed eyebrows and his clenched fists from across the room. He shook tiredly before his voice echoed throughout the room as he spoke, the conversations around him stopping instantly.

"I think it's time we understand exactly what's going on here."

Silence filled the air as the tension rose in the room, Endeavor stiffly sat on the couch as he motioned for Katsuro to sit on the couch across from him. Bakugou saw the hesitation that flickered in the boy's eyes and quickly scoped him into his arms before playing him on the couch and taking the empty seat next to him.

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He stroked his beard in thought as the boy continued sharing his memory of the morning before arriving in the alleyway, listening to every detail and examining it.

Bakugou raked his fingers through his hair as he processed the information eagerly being told by his future son. His eyes glanced tentatively toward Katsuro who had risen from his seat in excitement as he talked about his family members' quirks as well as his own.

"Aunt Chihiro was babysitting me since both my parents had to go out to face villains!" He said animatedly "My cousin Suzume and I were playing near the house, there is a big tree that is like a bridge over a small river. Her foot slipped, I went to reach for her but when I did a bright light shot out at me."

"How old is your cousin?" Endeavor asked deep in thought.

"She just turned five a few months ago."

"Hmm."

Shoto stepped closer as he let out a harsh breath, his eyes briefly made contact with Bakugou before glancing over towards Endeavor.

"It sounds like her quirk activated out of fear, but still a time travel quirk and it was her first time using it...There's not a lot of information to go on regarding when he will go back."

Bakugou rubbed his forehead in frustration at Shoto's words, he had already pieced together that information and to have him repeat it out loud irked him. His crimson eyes glanced down towards the boy now sitting beside him again, he didn't look worried or scared about the possibility of staying here for an unknown amount of time which eased the weight Bakugou felt on his chest.

"Time travel quirks are extremely rare though, only a handful have been reported over generations." Deku rambled.

"It's not unheard of though, Katsuro, does your other parent have a time manipulation quirk?" Endeavor questioned.

"No, but my aunt's quirk allows her to stop or speed up time around her."

"So the kid's quirk mutated to a time travel quirk." Bakugou stated, his voice rumbling.

Since the quirk was a mutation and didn't work exactly how the mother's quirk worked, he knew that it would be harder for them to figure out how exactly the quirk worked or if the kid needed to use the quirk again to bring him back it would be unknown when he would go back home. His mind raced at the thought of having his future son with him for days, months even. Anxiety prickled up the back of his neck as he thought about being a decent father.

"It's rather lucky he ended up here and not somewhere random." Endeavor mentioned briefly while glancing at the clock on the wall.

"You're right! It must have to do with the quirk, maybe there's a limit to how far back a person can be sent? Or it will bring the person close to someone blood related to them?" Deku started to ramble.

"Well-" Katsuro started before all eyes darted towards him causing him to stop.

"Keep going kid." Bakugou encouraged while lightly ruffling his hair with his palm.

"Suzume was talking about old year books she saw of my parents before she slipped, so I think since she was thinking of that time is why I got sent here."

"Bakugou your kid is smart." Shoto said with a monotone voice.

"Of course he is, asshole, he's my son."

"I would have figured he got that aspect from your partner."

Bakugou grumbled angrily as Endeavor raised his hand, stopping the bickering from continuing. Turquoise eyes sternly trained on him as he waited in silence to fill the room again before speaking.

"I believe until he goes back home, the safest place for him to be is with you."

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The U.A. Class 1-A dormitory stood tall before them, the winter chill starting to bite at Bakugou's bare arms. His mind wandered from the upcoming events of seeing his noisy classmates to his son and his eyes peered over at Katsuro, who was taking in the sight of the campus. The large blazer drenched over his small body in a feeble effort to fight off the cold.

Endeavor had called the school and made the principal as well as Aizawa aware of the situation, giving him as much information as they had gathered from the young boy. When the work study students had reached the front gate, they were met by the tired eyes of the eraser hero.

Shoto and Deku had followed their homeroom teacher into the dormitory willingly while Bakugou slowed his footsteps to a sudden stop. He knew that the reaction he would receive walking in with his son, and was hit with a sudden sense of dread at having to deal with his annoying classmates.

Aizawa's head peaked out from the door of the building, his eyes surveyed the area until they landed on Bakugou and Katsuro's figure. He sighed tiredly before calling out to the two still standing out in the cold.

"Come in, I already explained to your classmates briefly about Katsuro's appearance and stay in the dorms."

Bakugou caught his son's attention as he started to walk towards the building, his feet crunching along the cold grass as he did. Katsuro raced after his father, syncing his footsteps into pace with him as he got closer.

The warmth of the dormitory instantly kicked the chill that had rested over this skin, his crimson eyes quickly surveyed the lounge area as he observed his classmates' facial expressions to see his mini double.

"I heard you have a kid! Where is the cutie?!" Mina mused excitedly as she jumped to her feet.

He jerked his thumb toward the small boy standing behind him, his eyes narrowed as he watched Mina bounce on her toes as she peered behind his figure.

"OMG!" She exclaimed.

"WHAT?!" Kirishima asked, surprised at her sudden outburst upon seeing the kid.

Mina launched herself towards the boy engulfing his small body in a hug as Bakugou sighed and moved out of the way, his feet led him to a resting point and he leaned against the wall.

"HE'S SO CUTE!" Mina sang.

The class gasped at the sight of the six year old boy wrapped Mina's arms, their eyes darted quickly from Bakugou to Katsuro as they took in the obvious similarities the two of them shared in appearance. The ashy blonde hair that seemed to spike in different directions, even though his son's was slightly less spiky compared to his. His lips set in a frown and sharp furrowed eyebrows matched the same expression he was wearing, and the shape of his eyes and nose were a perfect replica of his own.

Katsuro's forehead creased heavily as the arms continued to stay wrapped around him, his e/c eyes burned with frustration and annoyance at the girl beside him.

"Hey, Hag! Will you let go of me now?!" He barked, out causing the room to still in silence.

Mina's body tensed at the insult thrown at her direction, an evident line appeared between her brows as she clenched her jaw.

Bakugou couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at his son's words. His mouth twisted upward into a smile as he quickly placed a hand over his mouth to hide his obvious amusement from the girl's chilly glare.

The student's had jerked their heads in the direction of Bakugou's laugh that broke the tense atmosphere from moments before. Mina let go of the boy and whirled towards Ochaco with a wilted expression seeking comfort.

"I can't believe he just called me a hag!" She wailed.

Krishima's red eyes wandered to Bakugou's as he sent him a questioning look at the events that just took place. The blonde lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, lowering his hand to show the blatant amused smile playing on his lips.

"Hey kid, I'm Kirishima. What's your name?" Kirishima greeted with a wave and a bright smile.

"My name is Katsuro. I already know who you are! Uncle shitty hair!" He beamed.

Another laugh escaped Bakugou as Kirishima's expression faltered slightly. The red haired boy released a harsh breath while massaging the back of his neck with his hand.

"Glad to know your nicknames live on even in the future." He remarked as he grinned towards his friend.

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Katsuro sat merrily on Kirishima's firm shoulders as he led him around the lounge to meet all the students. Bakugou watched from his spot, still leaned against the wall with crossed arms as he took in the slight dimples the boy expressed when he smiled.

His mind wandered as he thought about the few characteristics he didn't share with his son. Even though Katsuro was practically a mini clone of himself, the bright e/c eyes were a stark difference in the two. He watched the boy happily from afar as he ordered Kirishima around the room as curiosity washed over him.

"Woah! Our Bakugou is now a teenage dad, how unexpected!" Kaminari teased as he drew closer to him.

"Woah! You haven't melted your brain today, sparkplug." Bakugou mocked back.

"Ugh! Come on, you have to admit it's funny. Out of everyone here I would rank you lower on the list for the chances of being a teen parent."

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at him as Sero and Mineta wandered over to join the group.

"How so?" Bakugou questioned as he jammed his hands in his front pockets.

"Well, your attitude is so bad that it would be hard to find someone who can put up with it."

"Yeah, outside of this class you don't have any friends." Mineta added in agreement.

"Whoever it is, they must be a saint!"

Sero's eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment. "I don't think that's true, at least not anymore. Bakugou's competitive for sure and has an attitude, but he always treats his friends good!"

Bakugou's eyes widened slightly at his words before quickly hiding his shocked expression. The others seemed to nod in agreement to Sero's words, thinking back to all the times Bakugou has shown his good side.

"This is making me more curious about who the other parent could be. Do you think they go to U.A.?" Kaminari pondered.

"They obviously aren't in this class, he hasn't acknowledged anyone else as his parent besides Bakugou." Mineta chimed in.

"Ah! I Know!" Kaminari exclaimed, eyes darting towards Kirishima.

Kirishima stood beside Mina, Ochaco, Jiro and Ida as they observed Katsuro demonstrate his quirk in front of them. His palms cracked loudly like firecrackers as sparks popped brightly in the air, a rather big explosion from the six year old's hands made Ida jump back slightly.

"Your quirk is so strong for your age!" Ochaco praised.

"Don't inflate his ego more than it already is, this punk gets praised too much as it is." Bakugou called out from his place across the room, slowly making his way towards his son.

Katsuro blew out his cheeks in annoyance at his father's sudden instructions. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he glared up at Bakugou, flaring his e/c eyes.

"You jealous?! EXTRA!" Katsuro fumed.

The sudden silence that followed his remark was broken by the laughter that filled the room as the students beamed happily around them.

"Like father, like son." Sero laughed.

"HE'S JUST LIKE HIM!" Jiro voiced, another fit of laughter escaping her lips.

"It's really a mini Bakugou! He acts exactly like you!" Momo Remarked.

"How does it feel to face off against a younger version of you?" Ayoama teased.

"DIE!" Bakugou roared at his classmates, his nostrils flaring as he sent heated glares around the room.

"Bakugou! That isn't appropriate to say in front of a child!" Ida scolded.

Katsuro whirled around to face the engine hero, still heated from his father's remark from earlier.

"Shut it four eyes!"

"Uh! H-How rude!"

Bakugou annoyance simmered down at the sight of his son insulting the class rep. He let out a sharp breath as he relaxed his shoulders, his mouth twitched ever so slightly into a smirk.

The conversation moved forward as the riotous class settled down, Kaminari approached Kirishima mumbling to him as he gestured towards Bakugou and Katsuro. The red head's face lit up as he raced off to his dorm room, returning a few moments later with a book in his hand.

Kirishima placed the book on the table, opening it to the first page filled with pictures. He gestured for Katsuro to come over and when the little boy padded his feet over to him , he generously picked him up and placed him in the chair.

"What are you up to?" Bakugou questioned catching the attention of his other classmates as they pieced together the situation.

"Amajiki gave me an early edition of this year's yearbook, maybe Katsuro will recognize his other parent in here."

Katsuro flips through the pages, his eyes darted over the portraits of the current student of U.A before his eyebrows become furrowed as he gets to the end of the book.

"I don't see them here..." He mumbled

Bakugou absentmindedly placed his hand on Katsuro's bowed head, waiting a moment for the boy's e/c eyes to turn up towards him before lightly ruffling his hair with his fingers. Katsuro gazed up at him in awe before shaking his head in a feeble attempt at fixing his messed up hair. The soft gaze that greeted him when he glanced back at his father shocked him, it reminded him of how his father would look at him back home in the future and that thought comforted him.

"I'm hungry!" Katsuro stated, changing the subject, a rumble emitting from his stomach as he did.

"Who's in charge of making dinner tonight?" Bakugou questioned Kirishima.

"Pretty sure it's you and Momo."

"Huh? Me? Again?" He gritted his teeth, annoyed.

"What can I say, everyone loves your cooking!"

Bakugou sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes glanced back at his son who was watching him from his seat at the table.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Mapo Tofu!" The boy exclaimed happily, jumping down from his seat.

The corner's of his mouth turned up into a smile, a sudden jolt of happiness rushed through his body as he took in the bright smile on his son's face.

Of course, he and his son would have the same favorite food.

"Come on, you're helping." Bakugou said as he extended a hand toward his son.

Tiny fingers firmly wrapped around his hand, the two walked towards the kitchen hand in hand. The smiles on each of their faces was seen by their classmates, no one dared to ruin the bonding moment with their mocking.

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(The next few scenes are small occurrences that took place over the week.)

The next few days went by in a blur, Bakugou had quickly gotten used to being a father which had shocked his classmates. Their shock continued when they noticed how good of a father he was at that, the explosive blonde made it seem almost effortless when the two weren't taunting each other.

After seeing the two wholesomely cook dinner together, the class had decided they wanted to keep witnessing the cute bonding moments between the two. Due to that, anyone who was scheduled to prepare dinner the following days would purposely make mistakes so that Bakugou would get annoyed and take over the cooking himself.

"Is everyone here stupid?! Why can't any of you cook?! I should let you all starve!" Bakugou grumbled as he tossed the charred food from the pan into the trash.

He let out a harsh breath as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Move it, ears!" He gestured for Jiro to leave the kitchen, missing the smile that formed when she turned away from him.

"Katsuro! Come help me cook, you are more talented than anyone else here."

The small boy bolted jumped from his seat beside Deku, the movie he was watching being paused quickly before he bolted towards his father's voice. His feet pattered against the wood floors as he excitedly made his way to the kitchen.

The classmate's watched in awe at the soft gaze that overtook Bakugou's face when Katsuro entered the room. Happily observing as the two prepared dinner together, Bakugou assigned his son to wash the vegetables he placed in a bowl before handing them to him.

"We defiently need to keep doing this! Not only do we get to see him being nice, but we get good food." Kaminari whispered towards Jiro.

She nodded her head in agreement as they carefully stole glances at the father son duo in the kitchen.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Bakugou watched Katsuro's face light up with excitement as he watched All Might appear on the screen of his computer. Bright e/c eyes observed in wonder as the retired number one hero saved the day once again in the old clip.

"You know, Deku and I had to fight him in order to pass our final exam."

"What?! No way?! Did you lose?"

"HAH! As if your father would lose!"

Katsuro's laughter rang in his ears as he looked down at the kid sitting in his lap, a lopsided grin formed on his lips at the sight. His eyes wandered to the boy's shoulder where a piece of lint had caught his gaze.

"Well, he almost killed us. I'm pretty sure he broke some bones in Deku's spine during that fight." He picked the piece of lint from his shoulder as he continued.

"Even with quirk restrictors on, he had managed to destroy a whole city street with one punch." He absentmindedly rattled on as he remembered that day.

"That sounds..." Katsuro trailed off.

"Intense?, Cool?"

"Scary..."

"Yeah, it was. Good thing he was the symbol of peace right?"

"Right!"

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Bakugou watched with tired eyes as Katsuro played another round of Uno with Tsukuyomi in the lounge. The sky had turned dark and Bakugou had already gotten himself and his son ready for bed, all that was left was getting his hyperactive kid into his dorm. He yawned as he rubbed his eyes, his body starting to feel heavy and in desperate need of sleep.

"I win." Tsukuyomi stated calmly.

Katsuro grumbled with frustration as he stacked the cards for another round to begin, Bakugou quickly called out to his son to stop him from starting another match.

"It's time for bed, let's go!"

"But it's only 9 pm!"

"What's your point?" He raised an eyebrow at the kid's frustrated expression.

"Can't you let me stay up to play some more?!"

"Revelry in the dark." Tsukuyomi chimed in suddenly.

"Revelry in the dark!" Katsuro cheered happily repeating his words.

Bakougou swooped the boy into his arms, his eyebrows furrowed angrily as he glared at his bird-like classmate.

"Don't teach him that shit!" He barked.

He angrily stomped to his room with Katsuro thrown over his shoulder.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Kirishima and Deku tried to control their whispered voices as they glanced back at the couch in the lounge. They both had been the first ones to wake up that morning and when they came down stairs from their dorm's they were surprised at the sight that greeted them.

Bakugou was sleeping soundly on his back, Katsuro just as peacefully sleeping with his head on his father's chest. A remote lightly gripped in one of Bakugou's hands while the once was placed protectively over the small figure laying on top of him.

Kirishima and Deku shared a glance as they each pulled out their phones, eagerly taking a photo of the two sleeping peacefully on the couch together.

Deku's camera had let out a loud shutter noise as he took the photo, instantly grimacing at the fact he forgot to mute his phone's noise effects.

The noise had made Bakugou's eyebrows furrow as he blinked his eyes open, trying to adjust to the bright light in the room. His eyes surveyed the lounge, settling on Kirishima and Deku with their phones still pulled up and pointed in his direction making his eyes widen slightly.

"RUN!" Kirishima blurted before running down the hallway.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The day's had passed quickly and it was time for the work study students to return to their agencies. The winter chill had stalled as the weather was warmer and not as frigid as the previous weeks. Bakugou was excited to go patrolling, confident that with the warmer weather that he would beat Endeavor to the crime scenes.

However, when they arrived at the agency he had stated they would be using the training room while he went out on his own, causing Bakugou to grumble in frustration.

"He's doing this on purpose! He knows I'll beat him today, that bastard!"

Shoto stopped training suddenly from across the room to stare at him blankly.

"I believe the more likely reason is that you have a six year old with you who can't go on patrol."

Bakugou grunted angrily under his breath as he made his way from the training machines to the weights where Katsuro sat watching Deku train eagerly.

"Deku! Do something cool!" Katsuro cheered.

"HEH! What's so good about him?" Bakugou mocked, while he cocked head up.

"What? are you jealous number 2?" He taunted slyly, his e/c eyes twinkling with mischief.

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched at the mocking attitude thrown his way, his nostrils flared as his hands tightened into fists at his sides. He jerked his head in the direction of the dark green haired boy who was lifting weights.

"Deku - get over here - before I kill you." Bakugou gritted out between clenched teeth.

The hand weights were placed on the ground gently, careful not to drop them under Bakugou's rage-filled glare. He swiftly made his way over to the father/son duo, a nervous smile formed on his lips as he drew in closer to the two.

"Was there something you needed kacchan?" He questioned, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Bakugou's mouth twitched as he cackled at his nervous behavior.

"Katsuro here was just telling me how great you were and said he wanted you to show him something cool." He jeered.

"O-Oh, well thank you Katsuro. I don't think I have anything amazing to show you though." He placed his hand on his chin while he hummed in thought. "Hm, I have been working on black whip. Would you like to see?"

"YES!" He beamed with excitement.

The corners of Bakugou's mouth quirked up in amusement as he watched Deku prepare himself, knowing full well what was about to happen would disappoint his son. He leaned against the wall as he waited for the show to begin, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably.

A black mist formed slightly on Deku's palms, it slowly shaped itself into a line inched its way outward making it about an inch further than the day he performed it in front of Mt. Lady before it drizzled out. Deku excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet as he rambled about how it was slowly getting longer, while Katsuro's excitement fell from his face causing Bakugou's heart to ache just a bit at the sight of how disappointed he was.

"Disappointed in your favorite hero?" He mocked lightly.

"No!"

"Keh, sure you ain't."

"Whatever! Deku might be a loser now, but he's cool in the future."

"Hm, that's a bit-" Deku sadly began before being interrupted.

"How is he better than me?!" Bakugou criticized.

Katsuro pumped a tiny fist in the air as he confidently stared at the two heroes in training. His e/c eyes twinkled with newfound excitement, as a bright smile was plastered on his face.

"Uncle Deku told me he's going to give me the secret of One for-" Bakugou slapped a hand over his mouth instantly, as his eyes quickly darted around the training room.

A sharp breath released from the One for All quirk holder beside him, he ran a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his anxious heart rate from moments before. Crimson eyes looked at him with a disapproving glare as he timidly darted between confused e/c pupils and his own.

The hand dropped from Katsuro's mouth as he struggled against him with annoyance. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Bakugou with a questioning glare and burning eyes at the fact he had been restricted.

"Idiot! Look around before announcing something private. If it's a secret, keep it a secret." Bakugou scolded lightly while jerking his head away from his son's glaring eyes.

Katsuro tensed as his ears dusted pink from embarrassment at his father's words. He ducked his head, his gaze resting on the floor as he felt the heat rush to his face. The thought of him mindlessly revealing a secret in order to boast repeated endlessly in his head, causing him to remain silent as he reflected. A firm, warm hand brushed the plaguing thoughts away as it rested on his head, gently ruffling his hair in a comforting gesture.

His e/c eyes peeked up towards the figure that stood in front of him, crimson eyes peering down at him with a softened gaze. His hand firmly ruffled his hair once more before being satisfied and pulling his arm back down to his side.

Bakugou exhaled slightly. "It's okay... Do you want to see Deku and I spar?"

"YEAH!" He exclaimed, his happy features returning to his face.

"Go wait over there, and you better cheer for me when I kick his ass." He motioned towards an open area while lightly chuckling.

Katsuro dashed away with excitement, happily preparing himself to watch the two boys spar.

"Geez! that was a close one, thank you Bakugou-" Deku began.

"Looks like even the you in the future can't keep a secret. I can't believe you told a six year old about One For All! What were you thinking, dumbass?!" Bakugou scolded with annoyance.

Deku timidly scratched his chin as he thought about his future self's actions. His eyes closed briefly as his eyebrows knitted before he anxiously smiled back at Bakugou, waiting for the scolding to finish.

"What?!" Bakugou snarled, noticing the smile directed at him.

"I was just thinking how great it is that your son is going to be the successor."

Bakugou tensed briefly before quickly recovering his composure before his childhood friend could catch the slip in emotions.

"Whatever."

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The sky turned dark as Bakugou chased the hyperactive child running around his dorm at the agency. Katsuro jumped onto the bed laughing happily as Bakugou grabbed him and lifted him up. He dramatically laid him down on the bed as the boy's laughter slowly started to die down.

"Okay, you had dinner and we got ready for bed. It's time to sleep, we have an early morning."

"We can't play a bit longer?"

"Nope! I already extended it five minutes longer the last time you asked, It's time for bed."

"Okay dad." Katsuro mumbled sleepily.

Bakugou tensed at the word he was addressed by, he still wasn't used to being called so affectionately and it shocked him every time he heard his son call out to him. His eyes softened as he looked down at Katsuro's already sleeping figure in his arms, a smile grew on his lips as he thought about the last few days he had with him.

He never expected to feel so connected to someone else before, and once he met his son he doubted he would be able to be a good father so suddenly. However, being around him felt so natural and taking care of him came effortlessly day by day. Some say it's because of how alike they are, but even though he saw all the similarities between them, he also could recognize the differences.

Deep down he wants to believe that even though his son hasn't been born just yet in this timeline and he hasn't met his future partner, that he still has an unbreakable bond that's tethered between him and his son. That there was a connection that led him to turning back the first day and finding him in the alleyway. A connection that grows stronger each day they spend together and depends on the bond between the two.

His eyelids grew heavy as he rested his head down on the pillow next to Katsuro.

"I love you." he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

His hands absentmindedly reached across the bed, filling the empty mattress instead of Katsuro's figure beside him. He patted the empty spot beside him a few more times as anxiety started to break through his sleep filled mind.

Bakugou's eyes blinked open, adjusting to the darkness in the room, he looked towards the bathroom to see no light on underneath the door. His eyes darted across the room looking for a sign of the boy when the corner of his eyes caught it briefly.

A faint dim light barely even visible, fading away. The same light he saw in the alleyway days ago when the boy had appeared. His mind raced as he processed the turn of events in the silence of the empty room.

He's back home.

Relieve flooded his body as the weight lifted off his shoulders and he fell back onto the mattress below. His crimson eyes closed as he tried to force his mind to go back to sleep, but an aching feeling started to creep its way into his thoughts.

The silence of the empty room he now resided in became to still, his heart ached at the fact that in the morning he wouldn't get to wake up his son and see the annoyed half asleep face he makes before finally smiling brightly at seeing him and questioning what is for breakfast like he had the last week.

His mind reeled at the sudden feelings of loss as he replayed the memories he had with his son in his head.

Maybe I should have let him stay up for five more minutes so we could play a bit longer.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The next morning the frigid weather felt as though it came back in full force. The wind blew past Bakugou's exposed ears, numbing them from the chilly cold. He groaned lowly under his breath, thick clouds of air were made visible as they wandered from his lips and out of the high collar of his hero uniform. He noticed dark green eyes would glance over at him every so often from the other side of Shoto's figure, his forehead creased in irritation at the worried glances pointed his way.

"Deku! stop fucking looking at me before you walk into a pole, dumbass." He barked.

His childhood friend's eyebrows rose in shock as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink from being caught.

"Haha, sorry kacchan! Um- just- Are you okay? You know with Katsuro being gone?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, well-"

The conversation stalled suddenly when Endeavor launched himself over the guardrail along the sidewalk, Bakugou and the others quickly moved after him as the faint sound of car siren's met their ears.

The team anxiously prepared themselves for the upcoming threat, propelling through the air while the quick scenery of the city passes by them. The sight of a car crash and a villain floating in the air appeared up ahead as they furiously raced to the scene.

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Unbeknownst to them, two figures had been watching from a rooftop building. Crimson red feathers moved slightly from the noisy disturbance down below, sharp golden eyes looking away from the book in his hand to the chaos on the streets.

"Oh, dear... such bad timing." His honey voice said playfully.

He motioned to the figure behind him as he spread his wings and prepared to descend from the roof.

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The glass villain rushed down a narrow alleyway at the sight of Endeavor, desperately fleeing to get away. Melted glass rained down to the street from the powerful maneuver the number one hero used. The team raced after the villain as they quickly rushed into the alleyway, a few villain's that had teamed up with the glass villain were waiting by the exit ready to attempt a surprise attack.

Endeavor narrowly dodged the attack as he lunged towards the villain, grasping him by the shoulders and roughly pulling him towards the concrete.

Crimson red feathers grabbed the fellow villains by the collars of their shirts and lifted them into the air. Barely a moment later a flash of ice, Deku and Bakugou had rushed past the winged hero as he caught their targets.

"Huh?" Deku mumbled in confusion when the person he was about to kick was no longer in his field of vision.

"Oh, work study students?" The winged blonde mused.

"HAWKS!?" He hesitated.

Bakugou grumbled angrily as his feet landed heavily on the ground, he pivoted with knitted eyebrows towards the number two hero who was smiling happily.

"Sorry, I was just a little faster!" The hero teased.

Bakugou glanced at Shoto and Deku as they landed, the excitement that was boiling in his veins just moments ago was quickly dying out.

"What is Hawks doing here?" Shoto questioned out loud.

"I thought Endeavor was in trouble!" Hawks chirped.

"Did it look like I was in trouble?" He scoffed.

Hawks landed swiftly in front of Shoto, a teasing smile formed on his lips as his playful eyes glanced at him.

"It did, didn't it, Shoto?"

"Sure..."

"I thought I told you to let me know when you were coming." Endeavor exhaled slightly annoyed at his sudden appearance.

Hawks golden eyes narrowed slightly before returning to their normal carefree gaze.

"Well I just happened to be in the area."

Sirens blared through the air as cop cars raced down the empty street, tires screeching as they came to a sudden stop near the scene. Endeavor and Hawks quickly brought the villains to the policemen and started to debrief them on what had occurred moments ago.

As the police moved the villains into the vehicles, Bakugou watched as Endeavor made his way towards him and the others. The winged hero walked beside him, his mouth turned in a lopsided grin as he talked.

Deku approached the two pro hero's excitedly, his body tensing as he greeted hawks.

"N-Nice to meet you! I'm in U.A Hero Course, Class 1-A. My name is Izuku Midoryia!"

"Ah! You're the kid who destroyed his fingers right? I've heard about you from Tsukuyomi."

"Oh! By the way, where is he?"

"I have him following my sidekicks today, while -" Hawks gestured towards where a work study student stood a few steps away. "Y/N is shadowing me one on one."

Bakugou's eyes widened in shock at the familiar features that greeted him, the bright e/c eyes that twinkled with happiness and the corners of your mouth being turned upwards burned into his memory over the last few days. The voices around him became background noise as his eyes trailed your every move, taking in every playful smirk and hand movement as you talked.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as he realized all the subtle similar features you shared with his future son, the heat rose up his neck to his face and turned the skin it touched scarlet. He quickly ducked his face beneath the high collar of his costume in an attempt to hide the growing blush as he flustered helplessly at your sudden arrival.

"Hey y/n! It's been awhile." Shoto greeted, casually.

"Hey Todoroki! Yeah it has."

Bakugou's eyes darted towards Shoto as the greeting between them had brought him out of his thoughts. He sent a pointed glare towards the icy hot classmate as his crimson red eyes met the mismatched pair of turquoise and gray.

"Bakugou, I told you I knew who the eyes reminded me of. It's y/n, we are neighbors."

"Someone had the same eyes as me?" You questioned curiously.

"Well, to be exact it was-"

"SHUT UP!" Bakugou Growled

"But-"

"I said shut your mouth, icy hot!"

Dark messy green hair shielded your view of the two bickering, a beaming smile greeted you as turned your attention towards the person now standing in front of you.

"Don't pay attention to them y/n. It's nice to meet you, I'm Izuku Midoryia or you can call me Deku."

"Nice to meet you. Um, do they do that all the time?" You questioned while stealing a glance at the two.

"Haha, sometimes... Wait, you go to Shiketsu right? I'm pretty sure I saw you at the provisional license exam."

"Yeah! I'm a first year, but I was able to take the test early with the second years."

The bickering grew louder as crackles popped and simmered in the explosive blonde's hand. Bakugou suddenly turned his head towards you and Deku and angrily barked.

"Deku! What are you saying over there huh?!"

"N-Nothing I swear!"

You tilted your head as confusion took over your features at the interaction around you.

"Bakugou greet them, you're being rude." Shoto scolded.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Golden and Turquoise eyes watched the group from a few steps away, a smile twisted its way onto Hawks face as he let out a fit of laughter. Endeavor let out a harsh breath as he sighed, he shook his head downward at the sight.

"Hm, what's all that about?" Hawks quipped.

He rolled his tense shoulders. "Don't ask."

"It looks like one of your work study students fell for one of mine." He said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe we should drop by more often if it's this entertaining to watch them interact."

"I would prefer if you didn't"

Bakugou's voice suddenly broke their conversation, their attention being drawn back to the crimsoned eyed blonde.

"Earlier, I was faster than you!" He yelled as he glared towards Hawks.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

✧ ˚ · . Bonus Scene:

That day turned into night as the long patrol ended for the Endeavor agency students. The team stood outside a restaurant waiting for the arrival of Hawks and his students. After the chaos that happened that morning, it was eagerly decided upon by most of the members that a joint dinner would be a good bonding moment for everyone.

Crimson feathers came into sight as Hawks landed swiftly in front of the group, Tsukuyomi and you landing close by shortly after. You greeted the group with a wave as your feet wandered closer to the three boys.

Shoto and Deku eagerly greeted Tsukuyomi, while Bakugou awkwardly stood next to you. His hands stuffed into his pant pockets and face turned away from you as he watched his classmates.

"Don't tell Hawks I'm saying this, but you're right. You were just as fast as him earlier and just barely missed him." You say breaking the silence.

"Heh. I Know."

"What's it like working beside Endeavor?"

"He's a jerk, but he's the number one hero so I want to learn how he handles things."

You let out a lighthearted laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkled as you smiled brightly at him. He stared at you, his eyes softening slightly before he glanced away composing himself. His eyes wandered back to you, a faint touch of pink dusted his ears as he continued the conversation.

You two talked back and forth over a variety of topics, training, school, family before the group was alerted that the table was ready. His pace was steady beside you as the two of you walked behind the rest of the group into the restaurant.

"Do you have a sister named Chihiro?" Bakugou asked, catching you off guard.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"When you have kids in the future, don't let them babysit."

"W-What?!" You stammered, your step faltering.

Bakugou continued to walk ahead of you, his eyes trained on the group ahead of him and refusing to look back. The back of his neck burned as the pink that dusted his ears grew rapidly.

"You can't just walk away without explaining that?!" You exclaimed while walking faster to catch up to him, desperately trying to sync your footsteps once more.

"I'm pretty sure what I said is easy enough to understand."

His head jerked towards you, his chin lifted upwards slightly as a smirk played on his lips.

"Maybe for you, but I would like some more context."

His eyes over your head for a moment before crimson returned to meet e/c once more. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as he pondered his next words, his mouth opened slightly as he took in a quick breath.

"Friday, 5 pm at Ootoya."

You tensed in response, the quickening of your heart beat drumming in your ears as you process the words he said. He grumbled slightly under his breath at the lack of response and the shocked look that had overcome your features.

"Huh?" You managed to mumble out.

"If you want to know more you can meet me there."

"Like, a date?"

"What else would it be?" He said as he started to walk towards the group who had been seated at the table already.

"You know most people would just ask clearly." You tease as you walk beside him.

His steps faltered as he stopped suddenly, turning towards you. He looked into your eyes confidently, his lips held in a stern line as his eyes slowly started to soften the moment they met yours.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

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Bakugou's eyes opened suddenly, he sat up in his bed as the thought that had forced him awake repeated in his mind.

Tsukuyomi knew you and had met Katsuro, there was no way he didn't realize you were his other parent....

Fuck you Tsukuyomi!

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

✧ ˚ · . A/N: Mini Bakugo is so fun to write! Also having Bakugo in my last few posts, I realized I picture him cussing people out all the time even though he doesn't!

Bakugo will still make an appearance in Daddy? pt. II with a mini blonde explosive daughter. Since the post is continuing to get a lot of love I did plan to continue it for a total of four parts,

part III will feature Aizawa, Hawks, FatGum, All Might & part IV will feature Dabi, Twice, Shigaraki, Overhaul.

[soobnny]

shall we dance? — bang chan. strangers to lovers. fluff. chan gives you his shoes when your feet hurt. conversation inspired by a scene in little women. (0.9k words)

Bright lights pollute your vision, and it’s getting hard to hear anything over the music echoing around the room. 

Nobody told you how hard it’d be to look for quiet, even just a thin line, amidst one of the nights teenage girls will be writing about in their diaries when they get home. Quaint gestures of friendliness are starting to feel a little forced. Friends of a friend mingle around, clad in the prettiest dresses they spent months looking for. 

You’re not quite sure if you’re enjoying the night or if your thoughts are just a little clouded because no one has asked you to dance. All you know is that your brand new heels are burning holes on the soles of your feet and you don’t think you can handle another look of pity from your friend. 

Maybe it’d be best to mask yourself amongst the massive curtains decorating the corners of whomever’s house this is. You’re sure you saw a room there when you’d first walked into the house. So, with your gaze straight ahead at what’s meant to be the dance floor, you start backing up–step by step, careful not to startle anyone’s periphery. The sight of you sneaking away might be the laughing stock of the town. 

“Hi.”

The sudden voice startles you. You don’t expect anyone else to be in there, especially when the night is reaching its high. 

“Hi. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.” You smile sheepishly. Though, you suppose being caught by one is better than the burning gaze of a hundred. 

He has a cute moon smile, eyes morphed like crescents, and he isn’t unattractive either. He’s opposite the spectrum–almost breathtaking–clad in a white dress shirt with a few unbuttoned at the top. You’re sure it costs more than everything you’re wearing tonight. His hair is wavy, but effortless in a way you know that he’d spent maybe a minute to get it to look that way. How is someone like him hiding away from the crowd? If he were to step out, you’re sure that hundreds of girls would line up even just to look at him. 

“It’s alright. Don’t mind me.” He’s still smiling, though a little more effortless now. “Stay, if you’d like. It’s a little overwhelming out there, no?” 

“I won’t disturb you?” 

He shakes his head cutely, hair bouncing a little as he does. 

“You’re Miss (Last Name), right?” 

You’re surprised he knows your name, maybe a little tempted to ask how. But with the way he’s dressed, and how he’s comfortably lounged in the room, it would be safe to assume he’s the son of whoever owns this house. He must be acquainted with at least a few of the guests his father invited. 

You return his smile. He’s looking directly at you, patiently waiting for your confirmation.

“Ah, yes. But I’m not Miss (Last Name), I’m only (name). Last names bring heavy expectations, and tonight, I just want to be (name).” 

His smile grows.

“Well then, I’m only Chan.”

The air feels easy, a few giggles escaping both your lips after you’d both introduced yourselves. The unpleasant awkwardness of just meeting someone is almost non-existent. 

“Don’t you want to go out there and dance?” You fiddle with your fingers, shifting your feet a little before returning your gaze back on the boy. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” 

Heat crawls up on your cheeks. You don’t know why you feel embarrassed. Maybe it’s because minutes ago you’d been sulking over not being asked to dance. And while you’d love to, your brand new heels are killing you—you think scars are forming from the way the skin of your feet that’s in contact with your shoes feel like they’re burning. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” You shoot him an apologetic look.

“Why not?”

“My feet are burning. I don’t even think I can walk.” You laugh, sitting down and taking off a heel to show him your ankles. Just as you’d suspected, it’s painted bright red. Just a bit more friction and you’re sure it’s going to start bleeding. “But I really, really would’ve wanted to dance with you.”

Chan crouches down to inspect your ankles, a respectful hand on your foot to assess if there was any scarring. Then, he starts taking off his own shoes. You don’t even get to ask him what he’s doing, not when he’s pushing his massive shoes in front of your feet.

“Wear mine. Then it won’t have to hurt.”

“But then you won’t be wearing—”

He gently slips his shoes on yours after taking your heels off for you, even despite your protests that he’d be wearing nothing but his socks. 

Chan offers a hand out to you, and it’s only then you realize a few silver rings decorating his slender fingers–the ones that are a few inches from your own hand.

When you take his hand, you first discern how big it is compared to yours. He’s very tall, shoulders far broader than yours. It’s driving you a little crazy. Then, your eyes trail down to his massive shoes that’s now on your feet. 

Your attention on his shoes is short-lived when you feel a palm grazing over your waist before settling itself in a gentle grip. The music is muffled, but it’s loud enough that you can still dance a little to the beat. 

“Now, shall we dance?” 

[horrorartsworld]

please can you write valentino with an abnormal obsession with the reader? like this man will sit there with vox watching her every move and catches her doing something she shouldn’t be (which will be left up to you 🩶)

⊹₊⋆ valentino x f!dancer!reader

warnings: smut. possessiveness. manhandling. somewhat gore?? (val pew pews someone), nippleplay, choking, degradation, daddy kink, very little proofread 😭

love me some obsessive vallll

You just so happened to be working the floor that night, wearing the most revealing lace set known to man with lace garters to match. Heels big yet elegantly chunky as you made your rounds along the stage giving sweet yet suggestive glances in hopes you’d find a dumb enough sinner that was willing to play with you so you could scrounge around and get your moneys worth. “H-Hey there pretty thing~,” Bingo. An old drunken who most certainly had the money and in his state would blow it just for some high quality ass. You instantly put the sway in your hips and approach, a big pretty grin on your face as he pats his lap for you to get on. A routine you knew all too well that was all apart of the business.

On the other side of the building where the V.I.P section stood in a big king pin like booth sat your boss and his charismatic side piece, Vox.

“Sooo whattda think of the new broadcast today Val,” He asks simply trying to make conversation over the blaring music, but Valentino wasn’t being responsive as his attention was elsewhere. Thigh hopping in frustration, face turned up in a scowl all while taking longer puffs of his cigarette barely getting a breath in as he watched your every move like a hawk.

Vox’s animated brows raise on his screen at the scene unfolding in-front of him. Your sweet figure mostly on display because of your attire, dancing thoughtlessly amongst the old geezer as he slipped some cash in the waistband of your panties. Which all seemed fine and dandy to Vox, but that wasn’t the case for Val. “Hey she’s doing her job…no need to act like an overprotective father about it..” He attempts at cracking a joke to lighten the mood, nudging Val’s shoulder as he takes a swig of bourbon, leaning back on the couch with his flat head leaned back. Valentino just scuffs, exhaling some of his smoke in the process, clouding the once clean airways of the booth with red tuffs of smoke.

“I know that *squeak* dickhead…” He grumbles knowing that sure he wasn’t your father, but he sure as hell was your boss and you his sweet golden girl that he would occasionally see on the weekends. Though something came over him making him suddenly sit up straighter when he sees you twist in the sinners lap facing him, moving your chest towards his face almost suffocating the man with your plush mounds covered in that delicate lace, but what had Val the most furious was when the man had lifted the lace to put his mouth on one of your perky buds making him spring up from where he was seated and stalked his way over to the two of you. Leaving Vox to eat up the drama from afar.

You let out a surprised mewl at the sensation looking down on the man with wide eyes, but before you could even react Valentino was towering over you two with a dark aura protruding from him and his eyes glowing bright red. Your body runs cold under his gaze not knowing he had been here this whole time and it’s then you get a slight glimpse behind him of a bright light shining in your eyes from the glare of the tv-headed man sitting on the other side of the room. You mentally curse at yourself for what you got yourself into, being then grabbed by the back of the neck and yanked off the man’s lap to stand behind Valentino. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d get the fuck out of my club before I throw your ass out…” Val says with growling undertones to his voice that sounded like he could kill. “Jeez m-man I was just having a little fun...” The older man slurs raising his hands for a split second in defense before he wobbly got off the chair. Val stares intensely at the man as he begins to walk out hearing him then mumble, “she’s a fucking skank anyway..”. Your eyes just about bulge out of your head, “Val b-baby let’s just g-,” before you could even finish your sentence Val grabs one of his revolvers and blows the man’s head clean off, blood splattering amongst everything and his limp body hitting the floor with a thud from the loss of life.

You stand there frozen trying to process what just happened as the party around you never missed a beat, being use to Val’s rage full tangents like this one, including Kitty his fizzbot who immediately started cleaning up the mess.

Val had grown deafly silent during this time, not saying a single word even as he grabbed your wrist to yank you off to god knows where. Passing Vox in the process who says, “Way to go mothy..,” still sipping his bourbon like a baby, though again Val didn’t even bother to respond till you made it to his back office where he threw you on the floor and slammed the door.

“I-I’m-” you chocked out, voice trembling, “Hush carñio..,” He shushes before you could even muster up the apology, towering over you once more to then suddenly scoop you up in his arms almost cradling you close to him before he brought you over to a loveseat where he sat you on his lap almost just like the man had you earlier. He just stares at you with a half-lidded gaze for a moment behind those sunglasses of his before he tucks some of your hair behind your ear in a foreign gesture, “You know you’re mine right…?” The unanticipated question making your mouth fall agape before you answered a meek, “yes..”

“So when another dead man touches what is mine…what do you think i have to do? hmm..” Dread bloomed in your chest as a million things ran through your head at what he could possibly mean by that, his hand lightly slaps your ass to gain your attention back as you started to drift too hard into what the answer could be, which you just settled with, “I-I’m not sure..”

He chuckles knowing you wouldn’t, eyes trailing your body a moment, “Then let me show you doll..”

Without warning the lace of your shirt is over his head, pushing off his hat and his mouth is latched onto your sensitive bud, sucking harshly. Your breath hitching as the feeling felt way differently from how the man had did it moments before, along with one of his other hands kneading against the one that wasn’t getting his mouths attention currently. When he unlatched from one a string of silva would still connect the two together and his expression would look loss in bliss as he would then lowly hum when he latched back onto the other one. Earning a soft whimper from your lips that reacted in Valentino’s hips bucking up into your needy cunt that was soaking your thin panties.

“T-tino…” You’d mewl out, hands running over his bald head desperately now needing him to show attention elsewhere as he ignited an undeniable heat within you.

He’d then lightly graze his teeth against your nipple to earn another little desperate plea before coming off of it with a pop. “Where you need it baby…” He’d ask huskily now tugging and tracing at the garters on your thighs teasingly.

“I-I need it inside..” You’d pout without hesitation, thighs twitching with each touch he made. He’d snicker at this, leaning back on the loveseat while pulling his hands away to hang his arms on the back of it with a smug grin, a confused look now forming on your face.

“Well the belt ain’t gonna unbuckle itself..” He nods motioning his head for you to do it while he looked down at the big heart belt buckle. Adjusting his hips once your delicate hands decided to fumble with it, eventually getting it undone and going the rest of the way to pull his cock out. “Mmm such a naughty little whore…,” He then suddenly grabs you by the neck giving it nice squeeze before pulling your mouth onto his. Long pointed tongue invading your personal space almost making it hard for you to breathe with his clawed fingers also digging into the skin of your neck. When he pulls away you almost feel dizzy from how long he had you there, both of you breathing heavily.

“My whore..” He adds mumbly, not failing to make your heart race even faster in the process as he then with two of his fingers tug down your panties and the bills tucked there falling with them. “And look how wet you already are baby..fuck” Turning his attention now to your exposed cunt that was practically dripping with your arousal onto his thighs.

You blush uncontrollably at the sight yourself, but that doesn’t stop you from lowering down onto him which he gladly let you. The stretch of his size feeling unbelievable when it’s finally enveloped in your warmth making you let out whiny moan once he was fully inside.

Val chuckled though it soon turned into a hiss when you had finally adjusted and moved your hips creating that delicious friction you both so desperately needed. A pair of his hands helping by gripping onto your waist and bouncing you up and down his length while the others kneaded against your breasts again. “T-too much..” You hiccuped, tears welling up in your eyes as the pleasure overwhelmed you, with his cock grazing your cervix each time he brought you down onto it. “Nonono…you can take it frme..”

You throw your head back as if throwing a tantrum with a pitiful cry following, only making him let you come down faster and earning a couple pinches at your nipples. “Aww is daddy breaking that little mind of yours… along with this pussy feeling like it’s getting split in two huh?” He coos, which only makes you huff.

“Mmph! P-please daddy!”

“Please what?”

You tried to form the words to think properly about what you were trying to spit out. Your mind being to foggy with only things of pleasure and the filthy sounds the two of you were making with your bodies.

You gasped, “I need to cum! please…i wanna cum!”

“Oh you wanna cum princess?” He says almost as a challenging question, making his movements faster feeling his own build up coming.

“I wanna cum daddy …” You pout, as you begin squirming in his hands with your orgasm so close.

“You wanna cum?” He repeats knowing that it was only getting you more relied up.

“Mmm! Yes!” You almost scream, biting down on your lip to conceal it, the right knot unraveling once the tip of his cock firmly pressed against your cervix. Your eyes screwing shut as you creamed around his cock, his name the last thing falling from your lips.

Val groaned, cock twitching before he painted your gummy walls white shortly after with his thick load. You cling to him for a moment just revealing in the feeling before it was gone.

Knowing how Valentino was you started to get up and get ready to head back out, but before you could get completely off of him he sits you back down, the sensitivity of your cunt making you whimper when it was greeted with his cock once more. He grabs your cheeks squishing them before he makes you look him in the eye, “Remember this moment the next time someone takes it too far…you hear me?”

“Y-yes sir”

“Good girl…Now how about you clean me off a little yeah?”

[mvybanks]

the one with the wrong jersey - w/ rafe (18+)

a/n: this is longer than a blurb but i loved the idea so who cares (+ adding this to my frat!rafe masterlist because he’s in college so it makes sense to me idk) + this is completely inspired by a scene from the book “icebreaker” by hannah grace!! hope you guys like it because this idea has been stuck in my head for weeks

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, jealous!rafe, dirty talk, choking kink

pairing: footballer!rafe x college girl!reader

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add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3

—

The sound of your heels, mixed with the ones of your best friend’s, clinking against the floor of the bar, is the only one you can hear before entering the building. Your best friend offered you her arm, letting you join yours with hers as you both walk through the brown colored doors. Loud cheering fills your ears and you’re met with a very strong smell of alcohol, but you don’t really mind, after all you’re here to celebrate your favorite person in the whole world.

Rafe and his teammates have won the final football game of the season, putting them right at the top of the country, before any other college. They’re all yelling and chugging down alcohol for the occasion and you can’t help but smile when you see your boyfriend in the midst of the drunken men.

He’s wearing a button down, white shirt and light blue jeans while a faint red color is adorning his cheeks, a kind gift from the intoxication mixed with the happiness that’s cursing through his veins, and you got to admit that he’s never looked more handsome.

Oh, but nothing is as sweet as when he sees his girlfriend strutting to him with those thigh high boots that he can’t wait to have on his shoulders later tonight, and wrapped in his team’s jersey, already aware that it’s got his number on the back of it, which makes him smirk at the sight.

“Hi, baby,” you greet him once you’re finally in front of him, and throw your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

You’ve already congratulated him on his win properly but this is a special night and your favorite winner deserves some more loving, that’s for sure. However, that didn’t stop you and his roommate, who’s also his teammate, to mess with him tonight and you can’t wait to see his reaction at what you’ve done.

“Hi, princess,” he mumbles against your lips before claiming them with need.

You smile in the kiss, happy to be in his arms and completely his in front of all these people. He brushes his nose against yours as he pulls away to look at your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” his lips travel up to your ear to whisper, “and so fucking hot.”

Heating up at his words, you leave a sweet peck on his cheek before thanking him shyly. He tightly wraps one arm around your shoulders to bring you to him before kissing the side of your head. You begin walking towards the rest of the group and as soon as your eyes meet Noah’s, Rafe’s roommate, you know the night is about to become really interesting. You two have been friends even before you got together with your boyfriend and let’s just say that you’ve been really enjoying playing with Rafe’s jealousy.

Noah gets the satisfaction of making his best friend mad as he throws useless insults at him, which, you’ve got to admit, it’s pretty hilarious; you? Well, you get something much better.

Your boyfriend’s roommate whistles at you and makes a rounding gesture with his finger, “give us a spin, Y/n!”

Rafe happily takes his arm off of you, ready to see his perfect girlfriend branded with his jersey number on her back, and completely clueless at what’s about to happen. You slowly begin to turn around on your place, giving your mutual friends a good look at your outfit that was chosen for the occasion and when you hear the laughter grow even louder, you know that everyone has realized what your little game is.

You can basically hear your boyfriend growl without even sparing him a look and it makes you excited as you finally turn back.

“Damn, Cameron! Got some real competition there.”

“Noah, he’s gonna kill you, buddy.”

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight.”

The guys’ comments and snickers are causing you to laugh so much that you have to hold your belly and almost bend in half. They’re not that funny, but the situation is close to making you cry tears of laughter.

Suddenly, Rafe’s hand wraps around your wrist and he begins to drag you outside, not before he has the chance to yell a “I’ll deal with you later!” to a hysterical Noah.

He wordlessly brings you to his car, walking too fast for you to keep up because of your high heels.

“Rafe, wait! I can’t run!” you finally say between laughs.

He’s quick to find a solution to the problem by wrapping his arm right below your behind and throwing you on his shoulder as you let out a surprised squeal. Once you’re in front of his expensive, black car, he pushes you against the door of the driver’s seat and closes his hand around your neck as soon as your feet hit the ground.

“Take it off,” he growls.

You decide to play with him a little bit longer, although you’re already clenching your thighs at the tone in his voice. “What? You don’t like my outfit, baby?”

“It’s your choice. You either take it off or I will.”

Wrapping one hand around his wrist and putting the other on the collar of his shirt to bring him down, you smile wickedly at him.

“I thought you were going to like it,” you fake pout, “after all, I’m only wearing my favorite player’s num-“

You’re not able to finish your sentence because Rafe’s hand tightens around your neck, crashing his lips on yours and kissing you hungrily and punishing. His mouth kisses yours in a bruising manner and you can’t help but moan against him as his free hand wraps around your exposed thigh to bring it around his hip.

You’re sure his fingers are leaving prints on your skin and you crave it; that’s why you love making him mad.

In a swift motion both his hands unbuckle the belt that’s in your waist and throw it carelessly on the ground before he grips the front of the jersey and rips it off of you, his lips never leaving yours as you gasp in his mouth.

“Rafe!” you try to say, shocked that he’s taken your clothes off in public.

“I warned you.”

Smirking at your reaction, he wraps one arm around your waist and opens the car door with his other hand. He gets inside before you, quickly for he can’t wait to show you how much angry he really is. You enter the vehicle by straddling him while he closes the door beside you, now completely hidden thanks to the black tinted windows.

His fingers close around your throat one more time and he forces you to bend your head so that his lips are right next to your ear.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he groans while he feels your naked skin with his free hand, “Wearing the lingerie I bought for you. You know it drives me crazy.”

Of course this was all on purpose, you love when he gets jealous and your whole body is trembling at the thought of what he’s about to do to you.

He gives your ass a loud slap. “I asked you a question. I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already dumb for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes! It’s what I wanted, Rafe please!” you manage to choke out.

Letting go of your neck, he unhooks your bra, your breasts spilling out of it and making his mouth water at the sight. His hands immediately grab both of them causing you to gasp at how rough he’s being, although you both know you love it. Your fingers scrape over his scalp while your eyes close instinctively at the feeling of his hands on your body.

He tsks and grips your face by placing his thumb on one cheek and his fingers on the other, squeezing the flesh as he brings you closer to him. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. You won’t be able to walk by the time I’m done with you and I want you to watch the whole time. Understood?”

You know better than just nodding your head so you let out a broken “yes,” before he claims your mouth again.

One hand of his plays with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and massaging the flesh, the other goes to his own jeans, unbuttoning them.

You tug on his shirt, signaling him to take it off and he complies, leaving himself shirtless before slightly raising his hips to pull down both his jeans and underwear. His hard cock is just waiting for your attention and you decide to give it to him, spitting on your own hand and wrapping your fingers around him. Rafe groans at the sudden stimulation, but he can’t let you take control, although the feeling of your lips kissing down his neck almost makes him give in.

Finally, he rips your underwear off, not patient enough to actually take them off of you and it causes you to glare at him. “They were my favorites!”

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he grunts, “Now I want you to ride me like the good girl you are.”

You raise your hips to hover right above his tip and begin to tease the both of you by dragging it back and forth between your embarrassingly wet folds. Rafe groans loudly at the feeling of your bare pussy and decides that he’s had enough with you and your antics. He grabs your hips and pushes you down until the head of his cock catches your entrance.

You can’t help but gasp at how much he’s stretching you out, slowly entering you and forcing you to feel every vein and ridge of his dick. When a loud moan unexpectedly escapes from your lips, he can’t take it anymore and completely impales you on his cock in one fast, hard thrust.

“Shit!” you yelp before letting your head fall on his shoulder for the sudden pleasure feels too much.

He grabs a fistful of your ass and gives it a light spank. “I told you to ride me, baby, be good.”

Beginning to slowly move your hips up and down on him, you start also panting in his ear, turning into soft moans from time to time and driving Rafe insane in the process. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs mixed with the one of your wetness is like music to his ears, so lewd and yet he can’t live without it.

“Rafe, please…” you whimper, already fucked out and not being able to continue your movements.

He chuckles, “Please what, baby? Use your words.”

He knows exactly what you want but after the little stunt you pulled, you’re not getting off that easily.

“Fuck me, please.”

Spanking your ass once more and causing you to stutter on your actions, he whispers, “I am fucking you, sweetheart. I don’t know what you mean.”

The condescending tone would’ve caused you to slap him in the face in another context, but he’s currently hitting that deep spot that only Rafe Cameron has ever been able to find and you need that release more than anything.

“Take me, Rafe. Use me, just please, please, pl-“ your words are cut off by your surprised yelp because the fucker pulled on the side handle of his seat to bend it backward and has taken your body down with his.

Taking advantage of the new position, he firmly plants his feet on the floor and starts pounding into you with no remorse, filling the car with the sound of your wetness coating his cock and of your loud moans.

“You want me to use you, baby? Mh? Want me to fill you up and show everyone that you belong to me?” he groans, at which you can only nod your head and let out a filled pleasured cry. “Who’s fucking you so good? Who’s making you scream, baby?”

You know this is his jealous side talking and this means only one thing: victory. His thrusts are punishing and he’s probably leaving red bruises on your ass, fucking every single thought out of your head, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You, Rafe! Make me cum, please, I wanna cum,” you all but sob in his shoulder, his words and grunts mixed with his thrusts turning you into a mess.

Wrapping his hand around your neck, he forces you to look down at him while his movements never cease. “You’re mine,” he growls, “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes!”

He forces you to kiss him by grabbing you by your throat and you immediately submit to his dominance, too fucked out to even comprehend his words.

“I’m gonna fill you up until you can’t walk anymore, sweetheart. Would you like that?” he groans against your lips and you can only roll your eyes in pleasure as your orgasm is about to wreck you for good.

“Cum all over me. I’m right there with you.”

You don’t need him to tell you twice, releasing around his cock and soon followed by his warm cum spilling inside of you. You both moan against each other’s mouths at the sensation while he keeps sloppily thrusting, riding out your highs.

“Fuck,” he breathes out before deciding to run one hand through your messy hair and the other up and down your naked back.

“Did so good for me, baby,” he mumbles with his lips pressed against the side of your head, “but I’m not done with you.”

You lazily smile at him, “Mh? You aren’t?”

His actions are sweet as he soothes your sore muscles and causes your whole body to relax against his, completely in contrast with all of the dirty thoughts he currently has in his mind.

“My jersey is in the back. I’m gonna fuck you in it until the only name you know is mine. Does that sound good?”

Your lips delicately kiss the side of his neck, nipping at the skin and causing his cock, still inside you, to twitch. “Sounds like a perfect night.”

He smirks and he knows that you’re the only person he ever wants to celebrates his victories with.

taglist:

@gemofthenight @vigilanteshitposting @m-indkiller @buckysdogtagss @yoonabeo @iruzias @babypoguelife @poppet05 @earth2starkey @illicitfixations @palmwinemami @marzipaanz @wildflwrdarlin @sweetestdesire @guililove @colbysbrocks @magnificantmermaid @chaostudee @rafesmoon @mistalli @fangirl-madz @canarysposts @screan @fishingirl12 @cilliansangel @mattyskies @rafecluver @jjsunrolledblunt @pedrosprincess @jjmaybankisbae @em-dee @rentaldarling @houseofperfecttaste @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @jjsbank444 @taintedxkisses @hallecarey1 @savage-aespa @dogmomalsop @gh0stb4e3 @maybankslover @aris-void @dreamingwithrafe

[daydream-cement]

In The Library (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

A study date gone awry.

Author’s Note: Ahhhh!!! I’m posting this late and its FAR LONGER than expected. This is apart of Smutember with @alexusonfire! The prompt being library! Thank you to @tunarunes for the beta!

You had one plan for your college experience: to pass your classes and become a teacher. So when you began your teacher training classes and fell absolutely head over heels in love with a walking, breathing, white-haired goddess, your plans wavered slightly. 

She walked into your ‘Intro to Education’ class with her head held high, looking like a pinup girl cut out of a magazine from the 1950s. Her confidence was intoxicating and you knew from that instant that you wanted all of her attention. You felt blessed when she sat in a seat right next to you.

She removed her notebook and pen from her bag and turned to you with an outstretched hand, “Larissa.” 

“Oh, hi! I’m- Uh-” It took you a moment to recall your name as her eyes trained on your face left you without a discernible thought. 

Your behavior caused the shapeshifter to laugh, her hand landing on your shoulder. Her eyes fell to your notebook where your name was written in the upper right hand corner. “Y/n?” 

“Yes- Yes, I’m Y/n.” You sputtered, eyes unable to leave her beautiful face.

“Beautiful name…” Larissa hummed, her eyes looking you over before turning her attention onto the instructor.

Sometimes you thought you caught her looking at you from the corner of her eye, but you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you. One class period you had answered a question in a particularly meaningful way and you caught the shapeshifter observing you with a sweet smile. 

When she raised her hand and answered questions, she was so sure of herself. Desperately you wanted to at least be her friend. 

Sometimes when you would talk about

classwork, Larissa would rest a hand on your shoulder or thigh. She would look at you with such intensity you thought you would simply pass away. To even have an ounce of her attention was all you craved.

Finally your opportunity to become friends came when your professor told the class you would need a partner for the upcoming research project. Your heart stopped beating when Larissa turned around in her chair and her eyes locked onto yours. She flashed you a smile and gestured with her hand as a way of asking if you wanted to be in a group with her. Your cheeks turned red and you nodded faster than you felt you should have. 

After class she passed you a note with her name and phone number followed by a little smiley face. You felt as if you could combust. The grin on your face remained for a long while, making your cheeks ache. 

You hadn’t waited long to text her, sending her your name with a text smiley face of your own. Larissa was quick to get down to business, asking you for your availability to meet in the library to work on the project sometime later that week. You were immediate in your reply, offering many times for you to meet. 

By that evening you had a plan to meet Thursday night in the library to get started on your project, but the conversation hadn’t stopped there. Soon you were texting back and forth about hobbies and interests. 

Larissa had even asked about the dating scene at the university, making it a point to tell you that she was struggling to find other lesbians at the school. Your heart was beating wildly when you informed her of your own sexuality. Her only response to your text was, ‘That’s perfect.’

All Tuesday and Wednesday you continued your conversations over text. Some messages even make you wonder if Larissa had been flirting with you. You tried brushing off a few messages of Larissa complementing your outfits. 

Wednesday night’s messages became sultry when Larissa mentioned not being able to keep her hands off you if she had a partner that looked the way you did. You quickly returned the sentiment.

Y/n: Stop. You are so beautiful!!! I can’t even imagine being with a girl as beautiful as you.

Larissa: You’re too sweet. 

Larissa: Sometimes I can’t stop myself from looking at you in class. The shirt you wore last week had me staring so hard 🫣

Y/n: Ahhh! I’m blushing. I was worried it was too much! 

Larissa: No! Not too much! Left some to the imagination! 😊😉

Y/n: Oh wow! 🤭 Glad you liked it!

Larissa: Liked it? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it…

——

“Are you ready to get to work? I have a favorite spot on the third floor we can work at. No one ever goes there.” Larissa towered over you as she spoke. You couldn’t help yourself as you watched her lips form words. Your gaze was more noticeable than intended and your admiration made the shapeshifter smile.

“Yeah, that sounds, uh, great.” You squeak out, ready to follow Larissa to the ends of the earth.

“I’ve been looking forward to this project since I read the syllabus. I was thinking we could research~” Larissa continued on about her plans for the project, but your mind wandered as you watched her pretty face. 

What you would give to have those blue hues focused on your face. It wasn’t until you tripped over yourself because you were blatantly not watching where you were going that Larissa paused her talking to look down at you. She rested a hand on your arm as she spoke, “You really must watch where you are going. Are you alright?”

Your face flushed at the physical contact and you gaped and stumbled over your words, “Oh, yeah… Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m good.”

“Perhaps you should stop staring at me to prevent yourself from falling on that pretty face.” Larissa giggled and drew her hand from your arm to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. She then continued walking towards her secret spot in the library, leaving you behind to comprehend the interaction. Was Larissa Weems flirting with you?

When you caught up with Larissa, she took you to the far corner of the library where the shelves of books intersected just right to leave you tucked away with the utmost privacy. 

“Isn’t it nice? Turns out many aren’t interested in the math textbooks they keep back here.” Larissa smirked as she observed her study nook, obviously pleased with herself. 

“It’s very nice.” You agree, glancing about before settling into the seat across from Larissa. “Good find!”

“I’m certainly happy with it.” 

The small talk shifted into conversation about the project. Quickly, Larissa took charge, divvying up the assignment so you could more efficiently finish the work. 

About ten minutes into researching the benefits of outdoor extracurriculars for students, you felt one of Larissa’s shoes poke your foot under the table. You glanced up at her, but she was still working diligently on her own portion of the project. 

When you looked back down at your computer, the footsie started up once more. You allowed it to continue for a few moments before glancing up to her face once more, only now Larissa was smirking. Her eyes turned upwards onto yours and your mouth went dry at the sultry darkness in her eyes. 

“I need your help with this slide. Could you come look at this?” Larissa’s mouth formed into a small pout as she asked her question. 

You pop up from your seat and circle the table, leaning over her shoulder to examine the PowerPoint slide on her screen. You hold out a hand and begin pointing to different settings to help her through the error, but when Larissa didn’t make a move to solve the issue, you glanced down at her to see what was the matter. She had her eyes trained in on you, her lips darting out and wetting her lips as she stared at your own. 

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“Is everything okay?”

“I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“What it would be like to kiss you.”

The brazenness of the statement had you floored. Your eyes were wide and your lips parted slightly as you tried to come up with a reply. 

“Would you like that?”

A small whimper accidentally escaped your throat, making the shapeshifter smile. Her hand reached up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a jerk, and sending your lips crashing into hers. 

She held you like that for a few moments. Long enough for your hands to shift to her cheeks so she couldn’t pull away as easily. 

When you finally did part, Larissa chuckled and gripped your forearm, pulling you to her side as she backed her chair out from under the table. In an instant, she pulled you down towards her lap. You instinctively shifted to straddle her, not questioning anything that was happening all so fast. 

“I’ve noticed you looking at me in class. You’re cute, you know that?”

“I- I- You are so…”

“Yes, darling?” Larissa’s arms circled you to pull your body flush against hers. Her face fell into your neck, kissing your collarbone to your pulse point.

“Beautiful. You are so beautiful.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart… Would you want to take a break from the project for a bit?” Larissa questioned, her hands squeezing your sides as a precursor of what was to come.

You nodded quickly and dove back down to her lips, needing more than the few second kiss from earlier. Larissa was happy to offer more passion by opening her mouth slightly, offering her tongue to you. Your tongues battled and you held one another close, hands tugging at one another’s clothes in search of more proximity than what was physically possible. 

Larissa was kissing you until you were gasping for breath. You fought the urge to pinch yourself, worried this was all just a wonderful dream. 

She parted the kiss for a moment to breathe out a question, “Can I touch you more?”

“Please…” You moan as you start pressing kisses along Larissa’s jawline. 

The shapeshifter’s impatience was showing when she maneuvered her hand between your bodies and slipped it in the waistband of your pants. You felt her smile against your neck when she discovered how wet you already were for her. The floodgates had opened earlier when she had pressed kisses against your jugular.

“You feel so good…” Larissa whispered as her middle and forefinger began exploring your cunt, focusing in on your clit after a short while.

You were putty in her hands, whimpering softly into her neck. You knew you needed to remain quiet. This study session had evolved into something far out of the realm of what you thought to be possible. Larissa had been craving you the way you craved her. 

“Sometimes I think about this in class… making you come on my fingers…”

The statement made you groan softly. You always imagined her to be such a diligent student, but knowing she was daydreaming such filthy thoughts pushed you towards your orgasm. 

“Do you think about me too?” Larissa asked, her breath soft in your ear.

“Mhmm…” 

“When I touch myself, I think about getting on my knees for you… I bet you taste so good…” She made herself moan from the dirty talk mixed with the barely audible wet noises emitted from your cunt. Larissa’s arm ached from the strange angle, but she wasn’t ready to relent. She needed to push you over the edge first. 

The shapeshifter leaned forward in her chair, pinning you back to the table to give her enough leverage to change her arm positioning enough to push two fingers into your aching cunt. The heel of her hand continued working against your clit, but the sensation was faint enough to cause your hips to buck and grind against her hand frantically. 

Larissa chuckled and gave you what you wanted by pumping her fingers harder and faster. Your moans and whimpers came more freely as it became harder to control the volume of your voice. 

She began sucking at the flesh of your neck, completely pushing you over the edge. It drove you wild that a mark would be left behind from the woman you were absolutely smitten with. 

A low groan escaped your throat and you muffled the cry by capturing Larissa’s lips with yours. The kiss was rough and desperate which only made the shapeshifter moan in return. 

You remained quiet in her lap for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapping around you once more. Her face dropped into your neck, leaving soft kisses as she told you over and over how beautiful she found you to be. You made your crush known by quietly admitting all of the sweet daydreams you had about dating her.

Larissa pulled her face from your neck, tucking hair behind both of your ears. Her hands fell back to your waist and her eyes admiring your face. “Would you like to get something to eat and come back to my place?” 

“I would love that…”

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @teashock, @enchantressb, @alex-nyx, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @shyladyfan , @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @sicklygrlsicklygrl, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @milciak, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @h-doodles, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @kimiinou

[glittergelpensblog]

In the Dark

Eventual Azriel x Reader Witch!Reader Word Count: 1,232 Summary: You were a witch made into High Fae by your family, kidnapped by the King of Hybern. After he attempts to use your power, you are saved by the Night Court Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, canon violence

Prologue

Blinding, the light was so blinding.

You grunted as you lifted your hand to cover your eyes, the chains attached to your wrists clanging loudly with the movement. You hissed as the noise, uncovering your eyes to reveal the cause of the light entering the cell.

Two heavily armed guards entered the small space, one blonde and one with black hair, both glaring at you as they forcibly grabbed your wrists, and began unlocking the shackles attached to you.

“No, no, no,” Your voice cracked from dehydration and the lack of speaking for months on end.

They couldn’t take you, you wouldn’t let them.

You gathered as much strength as you could before breaking your wrist free and slamming the heel of your hand into the nose of the blond guard. Blood immediately began gushing out of his nostrils, and he hissed as he grabbed it in pain.

“You stupid bitch!” He shouted, before the raven haired guard sent a swift kick to your torso. Pain blossomed across your ribs, and you fell from your knees to your stomach, gasping for air on the dirty floor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He laughed, grabbing your left arm and forcing you to stand. The blonde guard grabbed your right, and they began dragging you out of the room. 

It was an ugly trip, as you kicked, thrashed and screamed relentlessly, and weren’t letting up as you approached what looked to be the throne room. Your eyes widened in fear as you entered the room, panic taking control of your body as you slammed your elbow into the guard to your left, and he let go of your arm. 

You twisted, trying to break free from the blond guard but his grip was too strong, and he spun you, sending you to the floor with a powerful slap to your face.

You moaned at the pain, clutching your jaw with your hand and curling into the fetal position on the floor, but the guard grabbed your free wrist, dragging you in front of the throne as you thrashed and kicked your bare feet.

“Now, now, my little witch, why are you putting up such a fight?”

You grunted as the guard threw you to the floor, forcing yourself to your knees to lock eyes with the King of Hybern.

“(Y/N) here is going to show us a little trick,” He announced to the rest of the room.

You turned slowly, surveying the scene in the grand space. There were two winged males, one with short hair and an arrow stuck in his chest, the other with his wings completely shredded. There was a blonde female holding both of them, tears in her eyes as she watched you and the king. To their left was another High Fae male, with dark hair and purple eyes, who was holding a female with golden brown hair to his chest, sobs racking her body.

On the wall to the left were two male Fae in green, one blonde with a face struck with horror, and the male to his left was tanned, with red hair and a golden eye focused across the room, where two high fae females laid trembling.

Your face contorted into pure hatred as you took in the sight to your right, where four humans, the Queens, you assumed, were lined in front of the throne, the Cauldron boiling in front of them. You averted your gaze back to the king, a look of amusement on his features.

“I’m not showing you shit.” 

“Wrong answer,” The King shrugged, unbothered by the scene around him. He simply pointed a finger at you, and burning hot flame took control of your body. You screamed, the sound of it echoing off the bone colored stone the entire room was made of, as you writhed in pain.

Was this death?

“Stop!” The male with the golden hair shouted, “This was not a part of our bargain. None of this was!”

“This,” The king chuckled, letting go of the pain reigning over your body. “Is something else entirely.” He stood from his throne, making his way to you.

“I know that all of you will attempt this again, try to take the Cauldron from me, nullify its power. After today, it may take some time, but I know you will keep trying and trying.”

The King squatted in front of you, and roughly grabbed your face, pain blooming from where you were slapped earlier. 

“(Y/N), is here to ensure that taking the Cauldron from me will no longer be a possibility.” He threw your face to the ground, hard enough that it rattled through your teeth, and blood pooled in your mouth. 

“She, is also Made. But she’s not like you, Feyre dear,” The King smirked at the female who was sobbing earlier, her face now nothing but pure rage. “She was not made by the power of High Lords, or even by the Cauldron. She was made with ancient magic, magic that hadn’t been used in millenia. Magic, that should have killed her.

“And she now possesses that magic, magic that is very, very difficult to dampen. She comes from a long, long line of witches, from the bog of Oorid, then she was turned by her own family.” The King looked down at you, “Where is that spell, by the way? I’ve searched the whole book.”

“Go to hell,” You sneered, and spat your blood onto the King’s feet. His eyes darkened, but he did nothing but glare at you.

“You’re lucky you’re too hurt to play with.” He snarled, “Because I am going to need your full power.”

He snapped his fingers, and an old, leather bound book appeared, floating into his hand. “You remember this, don’t you dear? Your family's spell book? You are going to use this, Witch, and you are going to bind the Cauldron to me.” He threw the book to the ground beside you.

Everyone in the room went still as death. 

You laughed, an ugly, rasping sound parting from your lips. “Do you seriously think I am going to help you?” You pushed yourself off the ground with your arms, sitting on your knees.

“You took everything from me, you have no leverage!” You spat. “You killed my entire family, and tore apart my whole village! You can torture me, you can drag out my death for decades, and I will still never help you!”

The king snarled, but before he could act, Feyre, the king called her, fell to the floor, thrashing and sobbing, before she exploded into bright pure light. 

You turned to face her, before the rush of your power washed over you, wave after wave. The force of its return almost knocked you down, but you fought to stay still, to keep it hidden, nudging the spellbook towards you with your feet 

Feyre began talking, her, the blond, the High Lord, and the king all bickering over a mating bond, as you fought to gain control of your power. Your head pounded, and you strained to hear the screaming of Feyre and her mate over the blood rushing in your ears, the thrum of power thrumming in your body so hard you thought you might break. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you felt a hand wrap your arm, and you vanished.