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bananami · 8 months

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STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso

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peachsukii · 21 days

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𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

( chapter 6 - Tourniquet )

『 ♡ bakugo x fem!reader ; pro-heroes au | friends to lovers 』

꒰ summary ꒱ Devastating news is dropped in your lap about your future career as a pro hero. A few days in the hospital leaves you listless about life in general before being sent back home to reality. Even though your environment hasn't changed, your world has been rocked and coming back down to earth feels impossible. Thankfully, Bakugo's more than patient with you and willing to walk you back into normalcy, one day at a time.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ suggestive themes (nothing graphic), PTSD, cursing, talks of trauma, lots of medical talk & diagnosis | sweet confessions, soft bakugo, angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, friends to lovers

꒰ masterlist // cross-posted to ao3 // word count: 8.1k ꒱

~ TIME: 7:15AM - Hospital (One Hour Earlier)

"I'll help you back into bed and then we can go over your test results." Saki carefully assists you out of the wheelchair and lifts you into the hospital bed, gracefully tucking you into the sheets.

"We received the toxicology report and bloodwork results while we performed the MRI. We were unable to decipher what drugs were administered during your time in the compound, but it affected your quirk factor tremendously."

"What does that mean?" you question. Before all of this, you had no idea a quirk factor could even be manipulated, let alone damaged.

"In plain terms, your quirk being forced to activate caused it to weaken in strength. Your bloodwork thankfully confirmed you do not have any bacterial infections from the injections you were given, however," Saki pauses to grab her clipboard from the countertop. "The EKG results showed signs of an arrhythmia, which is common among drug related issues."

You don't say anything, too weary to form a cognitive thought about everything she's telling you.

"I know this is a lot to process, we don't expect you to make heads or tails of it today. We'll be keeping you for one more day for observation while we create a treatment plan for your recovery. This means you may not be able to return to pro hero work for sometime." Saki takes your hand in hers. "Get some rest for now. I'll be back in a bit to check on you."

All you can do is nod while settling into the bed, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. The thoughts swirling in your head are making you dizzy alongside the pain killers they've hooked you up to. It doesn't take long for your eyes to feel too heavy to hold open, drifting off to sleep, avoiding the weight of your reality for a little while longer.

A familiar figure approaches you in an empty room, a shadow standing in front of you.

"Hey," a familiar voice greets - your voice. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"I don't know who you are."

Yes, in fact, you do. You're too afraid to face the truth. Demons don't vanish overnight, they become apart of you.

"What do you want?"

She moves closer, extending her hand out to you. "Come with me."

Calm down, it's only a dream...right?

You take her hand, walking with her into the nothingness of your mind. She halts, staring forward before turning her gaze toward you. It's the same reflection you saw in the compound that one night, but she looks...sad, not wicked.

"We're in this together now."

We?

There's no way she's comforting you right now.

"Don't believe me? Think about what I am."

That's when it hits you all at once - she's the manifestation of your trauma. She’s gotta be, there’s no other explanation. Or is she a leftover hallucination from the drugs?

"You can't erase me, I'm part of you now."

You begin to speak as she's fading away into the ether, hiding in your thoughts as you fall into too deep of a sleep to continue dreaming.

~ TIME: 8:40AM - Hospital (Current Time)

Bakugo's hesitant to ask for clarity. "What...does that mean?"

Saki continues. "The narcotics she was forced to take are unlike anything we've seen in recent years, which is, unfortunately, to be expected from an underground experimental drug ring. It's all homemade and untraceable, but what we can conclude is that it did do detrimental damage to her quirk factor by forcing it to activate against her will for long periods of time. It also explains the mild heart arrhythmia we found during her EKG."

Silence cuts through the hallway, the world going quiet as Bakugo ruminates on her words. If only he was faster that night, none of this would have happened. You'd be safe and sound, lying on the couch together without a care in the world.

That day feels so long ago.

"I know this is tough to swallow," Saki says quietly. "But it's not impossible for her to regain strength. We have a specialized rehab program for quirk degeneration that would benefit her recovery, it'll be awhile until she's back to full strength. The hospital offers a wonderful PTSD therapy program as well."

"How long's awhile?" Bakugo presses.

"It's hard to say for certain as it depends on her recovery speed. Some see results in a few months, but it could be a year or more."

A whole fucking year? All because...no, he can't keep blaming himself. But goddammit, he's furious about the whole situation.

"I have a few other patients to get through this morning, but I'll be back soon to check on her and let you know any further updates," Saki adds as she's hurrying down the hall and into another room. Bakugo exhales the breath he was unconsciously holding as he returns to your room and sits in the chair by the window, picking up his book to pass the time.

He may as well be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders knowing his intuition was right.

~ TIME: 9:17AM - Hospital

It wasn't long until Midoriya showed up to the hospital with your mother in tow, quietly peaking into the room to see if you were awake. Bakugo looks up from his book, giving them a silent nod of acknowledgement. He gets up from his seat and ushers them out into the hallway to avoid disturbing your much needed sleep. Your mother locks her arms around Bakugo before he can reciprocate, squeezing until she couldn't anymore.

"Thank you, Katsuki," she mumbles into his chest. She lets go of him, taking a step back to compose herself. "Do you know when she'll wake up?"

"She's not in a coma," Bakugo explains. "Just restin' up. Nurse told me the painkillers make her sleepy."

The immediate look of worry drops from your mother's face.

"Oh, okay. Do you know anything else?"

Midoriya glances at Bakugo - his expression doesn't give Midoriya confidence on your condition.

"Her quirk factor's been damaged. Otherwise, she's fine." Bakugo tries to keep it together while giving a minimal explanation. He knew the more information he'd pile on to your mom, the more she'd spiral and endlessly worry about your condition. "Said there's a program to help her strengthen it again. I'll let her fill in the blanks for ya when she wakes up since I haven't gotten a chance'ta talk to her today."

"That's great news!" Midoriya chirps, trying to lighten the mood. A brief pause falls upon the three of them when a noise comes from your room, a groan and the sound of rustling sheets. Your mother takes a step back and peeks inside to see you moving around, signaling that you're awake - alive.

"Honey!" she cries, running to your side to scoop you up into an awkward hug. "My sweet girl, I am so glad you're alright."

You're barely awake enough to register who's speaking, let alone touching you. Your eyes flicker open to see the boys at the foot of your bed while your mother's face is burrowing into your shoulder.

"M-mom?" you question. "Not...not so tight. Everything still hurts."

She lets you go, apologizing under her breath and moving to cradle your face in her hands. "I'm sorry sweetie, I'm happy that you're safe."

"It's okay," you murmur, groggy from all the medicine flowing through your system.

Midoriya walks to the opposite side of the bed to place a hand on your shoulder and offers you a bright smile. "How are you feeling?"

You know Midoriya means well, but that question may as well be an invisible gun, locked and loaded with all your traumatic memories ready to fire at any time. It's only a fraction of a second, but one glance in Bakugo's direction tells him all he needs to know. Your eyes hold a certain type of despondence to them - not rage or fear, but grief.

"I'm alright!" you affirm, a fake smile plastered on your face. "Dizzy, but okay."

Bakugo's heart sinks.

He knows you're lying through your teeth.

"Tell me everything," your mother pleads as she takes one of your hands in hers, carefully running her fingers over your palm like she used to when you were a kid. She winces at all the bruises littering your arms, tears pricking the corners of her eyes from seeing her little girl in such a weakened state. As if she was summoned, Saki appears in the doorway once more, returning from her round of checkups.

"Oh! You've got a full house," she jokes as she treads over to your mother. "Hi, I'm Saki, Y/N's nurse. You must be mom, pleased to meet you. The boys have been very kind and understanding while your daughter's been in our care."

"What can I say, they're both one of a kind." She wavers, thinking of how to phrase the dreaded question rattling in her head. "Can you go over all of the test results with us, please?"

Saki takes a minute to rummage through her stack of files and flips one open.

"Of course, have a seat."

Medical Chart Patient: Y/N Age: 23 Gender: Female Hero Alias: Y/H/N Admitted @ 11:30PM - BP 132/81 (Hypertension) - Upper thigh wound - Patient conscious but severely dehydrated & dazed - Victim of a drug experimentation ring, unknown substances consumed for 30+ calendar days - Started IV of nicardipine/vitamin c/saline to lower BP & re-hydrate - Dissolvable stitches & adhesive for thigh wound - Administered 5mg of morphine IV for pain relief 2:40AM - EKG, MRI & Bloodwork/Toxicology performed - BP 121/62 (Elevated) - Administered additional 5mg of morphine IV for pain relief - Started second round of saline solution via IV to flush leftover substances 7:00AM - BP 114/58 (Normal) - EKG Results: Irregular heart rate - mild heart arrhythmia detected - MRI Results: No abnormalities or long-term internal damage Bloodwork Results: CBC (WBC: 3,200 RBC: 2.9, HGB: 10.1) Metabolic Panel (Glucose - 45mg) Unknown substance found in sample, potentially causing health degeneration Diagnosis: Patient is clear of any long standing terminal illness, no internal injury found during testing. Return for a follow up EKG and determine if beta blockers are needed for arrhythmia. Unknown substance found in toxicology report - appears to be non-lethal but has acted as a poison to the patient’s body, causing an infection. Bloodwork revealed low levels of Glucose as well as lowered red & white blood cell counts. Quirk factor has been affected, rehab is needed to regain strength. Patient recommended to finish a round of antibiotics during detox. Patient should refrain from working until further notice. Follow up with a psychological evaluation for further treatment regarding potential withdraw and PTSD.

"Do you have any questions?" Saki queries, eyes trailing back and forth between you and your mother.

"So..." Her words start sinking in as you struggle to find your own. "My quirk regressed due to the drugs, gave me a blood infection and a potential heart problem. And I can't continue to be a hero?"

The room stills, your question anxiously hanging in limbo. Saki's response cuts through the dead air like a knife. "That is correct."

Everyone around you begins to press further, but it all becomes TV static to your ears as your vision tunnels on the tiniest specks in the linoleum flooring, finding anything else to think about. The weight of your current reality is catching up to you and the only response you can muster is to shut everything out.

Seems like you're fresh out of miracles.

~ TIME: 9:49AM - Hospital

After the nuclear news about your health, your mother decided it was best to head back home, leaving you in the loving care of the boys.

"If you need anything, please call me, honey," she sighs over your shoulder in an embrace. "I'm happy you're back, safe and sound. Don't worry, you're a strong woman, sweetie. You'll get back on your feet in no time."

Yeah...strong.

What if you didn't want to be strong? What if you want to fall apart and let it all go?

"I love you. Please call me when you get released and let me know what's going on. If you don't," she shifts her focus to Bakugo. "I'll call Katsuki, he doesn't sugar coat anything."

"Mom!" you whine, shaking your head in embarrassment. "I'll call you, promise."

She nods while walking to the doorway, Midoriya tailing behind her to drive her back to Musutafu. He gives you a nod as he disappears into the hallway. A few seconds pass until you have the guts to look in Bakugo's direction at the end of the hospital bed. His eyes are cautiously studying your body language, trying to decode how you're truly feeling, but goddammit, he's terrified to ask.

"Kat?" Your voice is meek, barely above a whisper.

He can practically hear his heart begin to fracture at the crack in your voice. He knows what's coming. And honestly? He's not sure if he can handle seeing you in such a broken state. Your dream was shattered in front of everyone you love.

"Yeah?"

You can feel your lower lip start to wobble as you hold the words on your tongue, eyes screwed shut and the sheets tightly balled in your fists.

"Can you...hold me?"

Bakugo reaches for the collar of his shirt and pulls on it timidly. He can't be gutless right now, you need him - now more than ever. You hear the shuffle of his feet approach the side of the bed, followed by the sheets being gently lifted to make room for him to sit down. When you finally look up with glassy eyes, his head is tilted with one arm extended in your direction, welcoming you without any further uncertainty. You blink a few times, tucking your legs inward and carefully stretching them over his lap, scooting closer until you're curling up into his chest. Strong arms make their way around your body, encasing you with a comfort you've hopelessly missed. The embrace he wraps you in feels like a homecoming and stronger than any armor you could wear.

"S'only you and me," Bakugo whispers, cradling your head against him. "I got ya."

It hits you like a hurricane, the storm of emotions surging through you with an intensity you've never felt before. There's no use in holding it in anymore. And so, you let the rain fall, sobbing, snotty and sniveling, shrinking into a scared little girl in his arms.

He's always despised the rain, but in this moment? Bakugo's found a new hatred for it.

~ The Following Day: Discharge - Hospital @ 5:53PM

Two days in the hospital and its felt like an eternity. A handful of antibiotics and withdrawal medication, a recommendation to a psychiatrist and quirk rehabilitation treatment plan later, they're ready to send you on your merry way. The boys have been a blessing in the last two days with Midoriya taking care of your mom while Bakugo's been by your side for whatever you need, no matter how big or small. Bringing you comfy clothes, sneaking in snacks, and reading a book out loud until you fell asleep being the short list of niceties.

How the hell are you ever going to being able to pay him back for all these selfless sweet nothings?

"Ready to go, Lite-brite?" Bakugo double-checks while taking a second glance around the room, a backpack thrown over his shoulder. "Izuku's at the checkout desk to get all your paperwork for the agency."

You nod. "More than ready. Let's get the hell outta here."

Bakugo holds out his hand for you to take. Without meaning to, you pause.

"What?" He pouts, taking a half-step back to give you space. "Don't wanna hold my hand?"

"Of course I do." You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. "Didn't mean to make you think otherwise."

He hopes you don't notice the obnoxious amount of sweat coating his palm under yours, or the intense thumping of his heartbeat through his fingers. Thank goodness you two are still in the hospital - he might actually faint over holding your goddamn hand. As you two approach the lobby, Midoriya waves at you from the checkout area, signaling for you to come over to the desk.

"I ran copies of your paperwork over to the agency earlier, so you are free to head home. They told me they'd call you later to review everything and want you to get some rest," Midoriya informs. "I called your mom as well to let her know you're heading home. The agency did recommend that you shouldn't stay at home since the kidnappers have your address. They're in custody, but better safe than sorry."

"Then she's stayin' with me," Bakugo declares, tapping his fingers along the back of your hand for assurance. "I'll look after her."

"That's for the best. Oh, right!" Midoriya exclaims as he reaches into his bag and hands you...a new phone?! "Here. We were able to take all of the stuff from your old one and transfer it, too."

You're staring at it in disbelief as the lock screen flashes a picture of the three of you.

"I'll pay you back," you say with a bittersweet smile. "Thank you, Izuku. You didn't have to do that."

"Don't worry about it! Kacchan and I split the cost."

Bakugo rolls his eyes and turns his head away from you. "S'no biggie, y'dont owe us shit. C'mon, let's go home." ~ Bakugo's Apartment: 6:45PM

Walking into Bakugo's apartment for the first time in over a month fills you with tranquility, the aura of his home welcoming you with open arms. Would you have loved to go back to your own place? Of course, but you have no idea if anyone from the drug ring knows where you live, like Midoriya said. It's one more stressor you don't want to think about until you need to.

"Are ya hungry?" Bakugo questions with a hand on your upper back. "I can make you somethin'."

You flash him a smile, but it fades away as fast as it appears. "Not right now, I desperately want a hot shower."

"Knock yourself out, y'know where everythin' is. Grab whatever clothes you need from my room. Leave yours in the bathroom and I'll wash'em."

Oh...right. You didn't bring anything with you except the clothes on your back.

It's not like you haven't worn Bakugo's clothes in the past, but it feels way more intimate than ever. Imagining him doing your laundry makes you blush something fierce, suddenly self-conscious about it. You have to force yourself to shake the thought away. He's folded your underwear for years and vice versa. You’ve showered here plenty of times. Hell, you’ve slept in his bed numerous times.

What's the big deal?

"I know that face." Bakugo comments. He caught on to the anxiety emanating from you the second you walked through the door. Being apart for a month didn't seem to weaken his ability to perceive your true emotions. "Quit your worryin', wouldn't offer if I didn't wanna do it."

"Alright," you mutter lowly. "Sorry, still feeling a little out of it."

Bakugo pats you on the head. "Don't be sorry. Go shower, I'll make some dinner for us. You're gonna be starvin' afterward, and y'should eat before takin' any more meds."

You might not be hungry, but can't deny he's right.

“Alright. Thanks, Kat. Mind if I leave the bathroom door cracked?”

A brief wave of sadness crashes through him at your tone. What did they do to you to make you so paranoid? He knows it’s gonna take time for you to acclimate back to a daily routine, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch you walk around with a cloud over your head.

“‘Course not. Yell if ya need me.”

You slink back into Bakugo’s bedroom, waltzing over to his dresser to pick out a set of clothes to wear. It takes an embarrassing amount of convincing to open his underwear drawer, barely looking and blindly grabbing a pair for yourself to change into. You pick out an old All Might t-shirt as well and head off to the bathroom before you change your mind and make things even weirder than they needed to be. You pause at the sink to stare into the mirror, unable to stop yourself from making a mental checklist at every little detail that’s changed in your appearance. The lifelessness in your stare makes your stomach sour, unable to keep eye contact with yourself longer than a few seconds. It reminds you of the last time you looked in a mirror for too long, that shadow-self taunting you to set her free. You can't risk encountering her again - not today.

Bakugo waits for the shower to turn on, only continuing to shuffle around the kitchen in search of ingredients when he hears the water running. He hasn’t gone shopping in a few weeks, living off of protein bars and shakes instead of his usual prepared meals. His appetite waned while you were gone, unable to bring himself to eat consistently like he used to. He’s about to turn the stove on when he hears your voice echo faintly down the hallway, dropping what he’s doing and hurrying to the bathroom door.

“Need somethin’?” Bakugo calls out, loud enough to be sure you hear him over the sounds of the water and ventilation fan.

“This is gonna sound so needy,” you whine, feeling ashamed to keep asking him for help after all the trouble him and Midoriya have gone through. “Can you…stay in here and talk to me? Being alone is giving me stupid anxiety.”

He sighs, slipping through the door and perching himself on the vanity. "You're not needy, don't say shit like that. What do y'wanna talk about?"

What the hell do you talk about? What he did while you were gone? The weather or the news?

"Uhh...what's for dinner?"

Good enough.

"Was thinkin' something basic like chicken and rice. Don't wanna make you sick by eating somethin' too rich off the bat."

The pause in conversation is gnawing on your nerves. Bakugo clears his throat. "That sound okay to you?"

"Mhm."

Popping open the bottle of shampoo, the familiar scent invades your senses and forces nostalgia upon you that you didn't even know you had tucked away. A handful of memories come back in flashes - movie nights, late night dinners, 3AM phone calls, early morning workouts, afternoon coffee runs during patrol breaks...it hits you like a train, crushing you mentally to know you're using everything that's his, consuming pieces of him that you've craved after being apart for so long. Something as simple as goddamn 'Pine Trees & Campfire' shampoo is destroying you all over again. You try to stop the hiccup in your throat from being heard, but it's too late.

"You alright in there?" Bakugo asks when he hears it, worried he upset you. "I can make whatever y'want, I'll run to-"

"That's not it," you interject awkwardly. You can't tell him that you're distraught over a stupid fragrance, no way in hell.

"Do you...want me to help you?" He stumbles through the words, embarrassed to be thinking about your bare skin and the potential of seeing you in such a vulnerable light, the only thing keeping you hidden from his sight being a thin layer of steam and suds.

"I..." you start while continuing to rush through the rest of the shower routine as a distraction, but it doesn't work. Of course it doesn't - there's no shoving this down anymore. What good would it do now to lie to him about how you feel? You might as well tell him the truth.

"I realized how much I missed you."

Bakugo's head falls into his hands, heat radiating from his face and warming his palms. There's so much you two need to talk about. You've both gotten through the confession portion, but the weight of it all is becoming too much to bear. He's, for lack of a better word, dying to hold you, kiss you, to bask in your presence like old times.

"Yeah, missed bein' able to call you to talk about stupid shit and hear your voice. Did a few times the first week. Old habits die hard."

The bathroom falls quiet when you turn off the shower, the subtle squeak of the metal rack as you pull the fresh towel behind the curtain being the only sound filling the room. It sends Bakugo into an unexpected cold sweat. You're about to walk out in nothing but...that.

Should he leave? Do you want him to leave? Is he...allowed to see you in only a towel?

His eyes shoot to the floor the second he hears the curtain rings clink together, white-knuckling the edge of the vanity like his life depended on it.

"Katsuki," you laugh, gripping the top of the towel draped over your body. "Don't be such a nerd about this."

Bakugo's eyes whip back to you, eyebrows scrunched together with his cheeks slightly puffed. He's adorable like this, a strawberry hue spreading like wildfire across his features.

"I-I'm not!" he argues. "You wanna walk around in nothin'? Be my damn guest."

Shit, that's not what he meant to say.

You start to snicker, devolving into a cackle that has you in tears, holding your side and wiping at your eyes.

"Stop laughin' ya brat!" he shouts, not able to keep a straight face himself once he sees the real you come to light, the radiant girl he loves. It brings him comfort knowing he can still make you laugh until you cry happy tears after the hell you've been through. Your giggles are music to his ears - an angelic choir. He launches himself off the vanity and heads for the door, mumuring "Get your ass dressed already" as he's shutting it behind him.

After staring at the pile of clothes for too long, you throw on the chosen shirt and pair of boxers, savoring the warmth it fills you with as the fabric lays atop your damp skin. Maybe things will be easier than you think and you won't turn into a phantom that listlessly wanders through life. Maybe, just maybe, Bakugo's the key to finding your old self and stepping back into her shoes. Exiting the bathroom, you're about to head into the kitchen when you overhear Bakugo fidgeting with something in his bedroom. You patter down the hall and peer into the room, curious with whatever he's messing with. He catches your silhouette out of the corner of his eye and nearly jumps out of his skin.

"God, you're like a fuckin' mouse!" Bakugo yells, dropping the box in his hands. "Thought y'were still in the bathroom, scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry," you apologize with your hand over your mouth, holding in a laugh and covering up the sneer tugging at your lips. There's a small box on his dresser, a coral colored jewelry case of some kind. "What's that?"

Bakugo groans dramatically and slumps his shoulders. You've caught him red handed.

"Dammit. It's somethin' I bought a long ass time ago."

His fingers graze over the cotton material delicately, reminiscing about that day from years prior. The two of you had gotten the approvals for your apartments in Tokyo, ecstatic that you were able to find places within a mile walking distance of one another - Midoriya, too. After meeting with the realtor in the city, you two were free to wander around for the day. Bakugo remembers how adorably ecstatic you were, tugging him toward the train station to go to Shibuya and celebrate, a.k.a window shop through the square, play arcade games until he berated you for wasting money, and bar hop to indulge in the best food and drinks for hours.

Who was he to say no to you?

While roaming through the shopping district, you'd stopped to fawn over a piece of jewelry in a window display, your wonderstruck stare that had him melting as you squealed with delight. "Wow, look how pretty that is!"

Bakugo's too spellbound on how gorgeous you appear in the golden hour sunlight to focus on the words you're saying. He's transfixed by the luminous glow reflecting on your skin, convinced this sunset was handcrafted to your intensify beauty. He finally tears his gaze away from you to see the necklace shining back at him in the window.

"Lockets are so sweet, I love their sentiment," you swoon mindlessly. "And this one has a teeny carnelian in the middle. They're meant to keep you driven and motivated."

He couldn't deny it looked nice, a small rose gold heart locket with the stone nestled in the middle. Bakugo looks at the price tag and winces - $300 for something so...dainty.

"Damn, did they dig this outta the dirt themselves for that price?"

"It's how you know it's real and won't leave a green ring around your neck. Carnelian actually reminds me of you, Kat. Nothing gets in the your way of your dreams, your ambition is truly unmatched."

Bakugo's body heats up, such a casual compliment enough to have him bursting into invisible flames.

"S'there a rock for nerds like you, too?" he grins, playfully poking at your side.

"Ha-ha," you huff sarcastically. "C'mon, I'm starving. Let's go to that bar around the corner."

He takes a mental note of the store name, the street you're on, and the name of the locket on display. He'll come back for it in a few days, hiding it away for the right time to give to you. Maybe at your birthday, or whenever your hero ranking jumps into the top 40. Or he'll keep his feelings locked away with it, letting it waste away in the back of a drawer somewhere with no intention of it ever seeing the light of day.

"Are you gonna tell me, or should I act like I didn't see it?"

Your voice shakes Bakugo out of his daydream, realizing he's been standing there staring at the box for god knows how long. You two have somewhat confessed to one another, what's he got to lose?

"C'mere," he instructs, motioning for you to sit with him on the bed. You blink at him curiously as you follow his lead, plopping down on the mattress next to him. His mouth forms a tense line before exhaling heavily. "Turn around."

And you do, albeit puzzled, but compliant. Bakugo opens the box and fumbles with the necklace, untangling the chain from where it laid on the satin pillow inside. He leans into your back, hands coming into view from behind and the weight of something resting on your chest. After a few tries with shaky fingers and mumbled 'fuck's, he gets the clasp to successfully close, pulling your dampened hair out of the way and letting the chain lay across your nape.

"Bought this after that trip to Shibuya with my first check. I went back'ta get it after you wouldn't stop lookin' at it. And..." he pauses. "Ya said it reminded you of me, so it felt special."

He's had this locket hidden away for years?!

"I didn't put anythin' in it, figured we could find somethin' together."

No one's ever loved you this deeply, so blisteringly profound as Bakugo. How could you be so blind to it all this time? His pining for you is clear as day. All those times you questioned it and how you could've been together this whole time.

You swing around and collide with Bakugo, sore arms wrapping securely around his shoulders. His arms instantly encircle your frame as the two of you topple sideways onto the bed, entangled in one another. You stare up at him through your lashes with a soft pout stretched over your lips.

"You really are force to be reckoned with, huh?" you tease. "Thank you, Katsuki. I love it."

You move up to comfortably lay your head next to his on the pillow, noses practically touching as you navigate the stars in each other's eyes. You can hear Bakugo swallow roughly - he’s nervous. He goes to say something, but you place a finger to his lips, shaking your head nimbly to cut him off.

"And you."

Your hand moves to caress his cheek as you inhale a trembling breath, taking in all of his gorgeous features. He melts into your touch. The usual flames in his eyes have dimmed into embers, ruby irises flickering under the bedroom lighting. Every ounce of your body feels like an inferno, the equivalent of Icarus flying too close to the sun. The only difference? You don’t mind the burn - you welcome it this time.

The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place as your lips connect with Bakugo's, the world fading away around you two and transporting you into a luscious dreamscape full of stars. Everything from the last month begins to dissipate into nothingness, his kiss draining the negativity from your soul and replacing it with sickly sweet love. The two of you have waited for what feels like an eternity for a chance like this, and despite the circumstances, it has brought you two together in a way that you've only fantasized about. The fact that it's actually happening? You may explode, overwhelmed by the emotions traversing the avenues of your heart.

Bakugo pulls away to catch his breath, unable to fathom the reality unfolding in front of him. You're here, in his bed, wearing his clothes and the locket he thought would never see hanging from your neck, snuggled up and kissing him like he's the last person on earth. His head is in the clouds, way beyond the stratosphere and floating through deep space. He's convinced this is nirvana, the perfect slice of heaven. But one thing is missing - three little words he's dying for you to hear, straight from his heart.

He snakes an arm around your waist and tugs your body to be impossibly close to his. Bakugo pecks your forehead, nose and cheek and hovers over your lips. You can feel the infatuation exuding from him, comforted by the way his chest rises and falls with yours in quick successions.

He feels like home.

"I love you," he finally confesses, his throat tightening as the phrase spills out of him. It's no longer out of fear, it's the enthusiasm of finally being able to say it with confidence.

You can't help but chuckle while remembering his text, leaning forward to kiss him before answering. "Why don't you remind me how much?"

The way Bakugo's cheeks glow scarlet at your question makes your heart swell - his sudden bashfulness is exhilarating. He takes a deep breath as his fingers rub circles on your lower back absentmindedly, staring at your lips until he has the strength to make eye contact again.

"I should'a told ya ages ago how I felt. And from now on, I won't let a day go by without tellin' you."

Even though you knew how he felt about you, hearing Bakugo say it aloud makes the swarm of butterflies in your stomach flutter violently. The feeling is almost uncontainable, overflowing in ways you didn't think was possible.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Like a stupid fucking amount," you smirk, relishing in the way his irises gleam when you quote his original confession. He tilts your chin upward to slot his lips onto yours once more, eager to consume every drop of adoration pouring out of you. It's innocent, tender, the spell he's been dying to put you under for years. The mood shifts into something more sensual when your hand roams to the hem of Bakugo's shirt, slipping underneath to run your hand up his back, desperate for skin contact and sinking into a deeper kiss. You're tingling, a new sensation beginning to build in your belly when he experimentally sucks on your bottom lip, opening your mouth for him to swipe his tongue along yours. You squeak in surprise at his advance, but melt into him all the same, a groan rumbling in his chest at your pliancy. His hand starts to wander down your figure and sneaks under the oversized t-shirt, mimicking your touch and tracing your spine with his finger tips.

Oh my god.

This is real.

This isn't a dream.

He feels so fucking good pressed up against you, intoxicated by the way his fingers ghost over your skin, sending sparks of electricity rushing through your veins. You want him viscerally, no - need him. Maybe it's the touch starvation talking, but you could consume him whole and it wouldn't be enough right now. He's everything you've ever wanted, and even thought you literally have him in the palm of your hand, something about this continues to feel illusive.

You're lost in him. Everything fiber of your being is screaming Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.

In the heat of the moment, you pull away from the kiss and press your lips to the underside of his jaw, slowly leaving a trail of featherlight pecks down to his collarbone. You can feel Bakugo shiver under your touch, his fingers applying firmer pressure on your back. His reaction gives you the courage to push further, delicately sucking on the pulse point in his neck. The noise that floods out of him makes your thighs clench, one that you've never heard him make. His whole body twitches, fingers moving to squeeze your side in an attempt to keep himself together.

"Fuck," he sighs harshly above you, breathing heavily and immediately biting his lip to prevent any other flustered sounds from spilling out as your lips continue their plush assault. When your hand inches slowly down his back and to his hip to graze the waistband of his sweats, Bakugo freezes. His hand rockets to your wrist to stop you. He breaks away from your embrace and the sight of him is enough to knock you out; eyes half-lidded, out of breath, lips swollen and face flushed cherry red.

God, he's so beautiful.

"W-wait," he stutters, removing his grip from your wrist and sliding his fingers to tangle with yours. "I...I don't wanna rush this."

Oh.

"N-not...shit. Not that I don't want to," Bakugo continues while biting the inside of his cheek to calm himself down. "I wanna earn you, every part of you."

Oh.

That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

He notices your eyes beginning to well up with tears and panics, thinking that you're taking this as a rejection rather than his true intentions. "Hey, I didn't mean-"

You interrupt him with another sweet peck to his lips. "I know. You're right, and I'm sorry for smothering you."

Bakugo didn't mind that one fucking bit, he's waited years for the chance to kiss you. Shit, he wants you to touch him, to explore every scar and muscle that adorn his figure. He wants to memorize the way your delicate fingers set him ablaze as you roam his body with your touch. And he can't dare to think about the seductive journey of mapping out every inch of your skin, worshiping you from head to toe for hours. He screws his eyes shut momentarily to collect himself for a third time, shoving that thought into the back of his mind to save for a rainy day.

"Nothin' to be sorry about, sweetheart." Bakugo pulls you into him, cushioning your cheek with his chest. "M'happy like this for now. Don't wanna spoil all the surprises right away."

Sweetheart.

Your heart pitter-patters in your chest at the new pet name, loving how it sounds falling from his lips.

"But if ya ask me with those puppy dog eyes'a yours, I might turn into a kid on Christmas morning and unwrap everything in one night." He snickers, the vibrations mixing into the strong bass of his heartbeat in your ear. The pulse becomes a comforting lullaby of sorts, blanketing a sense of calm over you and letting you drift into a blissful daze.

The trance is broken by the rumble of your phone incessantly buzzing against Bakugo's dresser. Reluctantly, you push yourself out of his grasp and lurch to grab it from across the room, the caller ID making your stomach plummet.

~ INCOMING CALL: AGENCY

The time has come. It's now or never to hear what they have to say. You click the "Accept" button and raise the phone to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this message is for Y/H/N. If this is correct, please press 1."

They couldn't even bother to call you themselves, but sent a recording instead?

"What is it?" Bakugo asks as he sits up in the bed.

"Bastards at the agency sent a recording, it's not even the board members themselves."

He gives you a look of disgust, appalled they'd treat one of their fellow heroes like a number in their system. Well, maybe he shouldn't be surprised, all things considered. Those suits only care about appearances at the end of the day.

"Throw it on speaker," he insists, patting the bed for you to sit next to him. You plop down on the mattress, press 1 on the screen and click the speaker icon.

"Y/H/N, we are pleased to know you've returned safe and sound. Deku and the others went a bit rogue to rescue you, but we are willing to excuse it this one time due to the success of their tribulations. Thank you for sending over your paperwork from the hospital. We've contacted Deku, as he's one of your emergency contacts, for further information to allow you to properly rest. He informed us you'll be under Dynamight's care until we can confirm your home is safe to stay return to. We will be reaching out to him momentarily in regards of this matter and how to proceed in the coming weeks. As of now, your status in the hero database has been changed from "Missing in Action" to "Leave of Absence." You will be paid 75% of your normal salary during this time and your ranking will be reset. In order to return to physical hero work, we require a written recommendation letter from your doctor and therapists, including progress reports and evaluations regarding your quirk's strength. You will, unfortunately, need to re-apply for a position and re-take the agency's entrance exam. In the interim, you may complete office work at your leisure after three months of leave. We will be following up in a week for updates on your health and then monthly going forward. If you have any questions, please reach out to the agency's HR department. Thank you, and we wish you luck in your recovery."

A few seconds of static linger in the air before the line ends. The phone feels heavy in your hands, a weight you can't hold on to for much longer.

Shh...stop thinking. Push it down. Lock it up. Keep that dread buried six feet under.

As much as you don't want to listen to your inner critic, she's right. For now, you've gotta suffocate that existentialism and shelve it for another day - preferably one when Bakugo's not around to witness another breakdown. You notice him staring at you with the similar face he made in the compound, one filled with worry about the impending doom and gloom. It's obvious he searching for something to say, anything to get your mind away from being told you're potentially losing your job.

"It's okay, Katsuki. You don't need to say anything," you assure as you take a deep breath. "Are you still offering to make dinner, or should we order something?"

Is that a good sign? He can't determine whether or not you're upset or accepting the inevitable. Bad news be damned, Bakugo's confident he can take your mind off of things, even if it's for a few hours at a time.

"Whatever you want, I'll let you pick."

As much as you'd kill for some fast food to mask the panic building in your chest, a home cooked meal - specifically a Katsuki Bakugo home cooked meal - sounds incredible right about now.

"Cook me the best dish you've got in your arsenal, that's what I want."

Bakugo's lips upturn into a grin, fired up for the challenge to impress his best...no, girlfriend.

"Lemme go to the store on the corner an' pick up a few things. Go get comfy on the couch in the meantime." He takes your cheeks in his hands, squishing them together playfully to leave another kiss on your lips. "Dinner and a movie, right where we left off."

"Where we left off and then some," you joke, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Kat. For everything."

"Don't mention it," he waves you off, a dusting of pink crossing the bridge of his nose and coloring the tips of his ears. "Be back in twenty. Try not to miss me too much.”

With a nod, you let him go. He stops at the door of his bedroom, turning to face you.

“I love you,” Bakugo repeats. "Wanted to remind ya, in case you forgot."

“You’re so cute, I love you too. Don’t trip and fall off the face of the earth on your way there.”

“I'm not cute!” reverbs through Bakugo’s apartment as he shuts the front door. You lay back in his bed, twirling the sheets in your fingers as his scent lingers in your space. You could get used to this, a life full of sweet nothings with him by your side. Dreams can begin to replace your nightmares, and hope seems fathomable once more. It won’t be an easy journey, you’ve got multiple glass ceilings to break through before returning to normalcy. And she’s here to remind you of every hurdle along the way. It’s only been a few hours since your release from the hospital, but this is the best you’ve felt in a long ass time.

Until your reality comes crashing down around you. You've really gotta stop asking for trouble.

Everything contrasts, your throat constricting and limiting the breath reaching your lungs. The doctor warned you about the potential side effects of drug withdraw, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly how these symptoms would appear. How could they know if they couldn’t identify the drug itself? You try to grab your phone, but you can’t find the damn thing in your hazy vision, frantically patting around on the bed in search of it to call Bakugo for help.

Don’t panic, breathe.

"I can't!" you pant between shallow breaths.

Yes, you can. Don't let it take you back into that cell.

Is this the psychosis they warned you about? It's terrifying, but therapeutic in the same breath. You’ve gotta trust that intuition - it may not be malicious in nature anymore.

Lay on your back, hands and feet against the bed. Let me pass through and you’ll be safe, don't be afraid of me.

You ground yourself to the bed and breathe deeply. In and out. In...out. In. Out. After a minute, your breathing stabilizes, eyes opening cautiously to surprisingly clear vision.

See? We don't need to be enemies.

What the fuck was that, a panic attack? It felt too quick to be one. The creak of the front door opening and rustling of bags distracts you from spiraling further about it, Bakugo's voice carrying down the hall. "Lite-brite, I'm back. Grabbed ya a few treats, too."

Are you able to move? You flex your fingers, your toes, and then roll your shoulders back as a test. Everything seems to be back to normal. No use in worrying him further, the episode's passed and you're okay - that's what matters. You'll tell him after dinner when the night winds down. You can't ruin the mood he's crafting for you two after everything he's done. You can unload that another time, and pray it doesn't happen again anytime soon.

"Everythin' okay while I was gone?" Bakugo presses while tossing the bags on the counter.

One more white lie won't hurt.

"Yeah, all good. Can I help with anything?"

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incognit0slut · 2 months

Text

Much Ado About Nothing (Act IV, Scene I: The Unspoken Words)

You’re determined to avoid talking to Spencer, but no matter how hard you try to shut him out, he’s just as stubborn as you.

Part warning: Inaccuracies of workplace relationship policy slash agreement, angst Words: 3.7k A/n: even in the middle of angst I manage to find humor in all of this😭 I'm just gonna accept that this is my writing style

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“I’m afraid I can’t change any statements under the agreement,” Hotch said, his arms crossed loosely over his desk. He seemed more weary than confrontational, as if he’d already had a long morning before this conversation even began. You stood in front of him, trying not to show your frustration after you rushed into his office the moment you arrived, but this was not the response you were expecting.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean you can’t change it?”

“It’s policy,” your boss explained curtly. “To change the status of your relationship, both parties need to come to me together and agree on the new terms.”

“What kind of rule is that?” You glanced around the room, scanning the shelves and corners as if searching for an answer to this bureaucratic nightmare in the shadows. You found none, just the sterile walls reflecting back at you. You began to pace. “Can’t there be any exceptions?”

“Unless there’s an issue of harassment or coercion, the policy still stands.” He leaned back against his chair. “Is there anything like that going on?”

Your frown deepened, and you stopped to face him. “No.”

“Then there’s nothing I can do.”

And here you thought you could end this charade once and for all.

“This is ridiculous, you don’t need both of us here. Reid would agree with me anyway,” you stated assertively, trying to sound confident. You then noticed the way his gaze shifted slightly, avoiding direct eye contact. “What?”

Hotch paused, his shoulders slumping just a fraction. “He came to see me this morning.”

Your stomach dropped. “He did? What did he say?”

“He didn't go into details,” he explained, carefully choosing his words. “But he mentioned you might come to talk to me and suggested that things were... complicated between you two.”

You leaned against the nearest wall, suddenly feeling drained. “Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "What else did he say?"

“He seemed genuinely worried,” Hotch said. “He thought it might be better if I could convince you to think things through before making any decision."

You let out an exasperated sigh. You couldn't believe he went through a third person to get his point across. Technically, you did avoid his calls last night—how could you not when you needed a piece of mind?—but you didn’t expect him to involve your boss like this. “So you’re saying he's worried about me being too impulsive?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Isn’t it my decision to make, not his?”

Hotch’s expression softened slightly, the crease on his forehead smoothing out as he spoke. “It is your decision, but it also needs to be a mutual one. Unless both of you are on the same page, my hands are tied.”

The only hands you wanted to tie were Spencer's. The thought of dragging him into this office was growing more appealing by the second. "If I manage to get him to agree, will you then make the changes?"

He nodded slowly. “If you come to me together and agree that it’s what you both want, then yes, I can finalize that."

That was how you found yourself searching for someone you didn’t want to confront. Your feet dragged you out of Hotch’s office once you promised him that you would bring Spencer along with you by the end of the day, but to do so, you had to find him first. He wasn’t at his desk, he wasn’t in the conference room, and he wasn’t even making his usual mid-morning coffee. You decided to walk up to Derek and ask his whereabouts.

“You’re looking for your own boyfriend?” Derek teased, the corner of his lips twitching into a sly grin. He was sitting in his chair, casually leaning back as he glanced up from his paperwork.

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If you can call trying-to-break-up-with-him-but-he-refuses-to acknowledge-it trouble, then yes, this paradise isn’t looking so great.”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you with an intensity that made you feel like he was trying to read your mind, or worse, profile you, which was the last thing you needed right now. “You’re really breaking up with him?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” When he gave you a skeptical look, you shrugged firmly. “I do.”

“You sure you’re not overreacting over a small fight or something?”

You made a face. “This is not the way you should respond to someone who’s going through a breakup,” you said, trying to ease the sudden tension in your shoulders with sarcasm, which seemed forced but necessary. It was the only way to keep you sane. “Do you not have any shame?”

"You don't even look that upset."

“Well, I am,” you retorted. “I'm heartbroken and frustrated, and as someone who sees you as an older brother, this is the part where you’re supposed to beat him up or something.”

His features softened as he noticed the way you shifted from one foot to another, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. The hard lines of his face relaxed. He slowly stood up and walked around the desk, opening his arms. You met him halfway, placing your head on his shoulder, your arms hanging limply at your sides as he wrapped his toned arms around you.

“Is that what you want? You want me to beat him up for you?”

The mental image of Derek trying to throw a fist at Spencer flashed through your mind and you couldn’t stop the small laughter falling from your lips. “No. He’ll probably snap like a twig if you try to lay a finger on him.”

“The kid’s been doing his training lately,” Derek noted. “He might actually surprise you.”

You slightly pulled away, giving him a mock glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

A crinkle formed at the corners of his eyes as he grinned. "I'm always on your side." He draped an arm over your shoulder and guided you out of the bullpen. "Come on, I think Garcia brought in her special treat bag today."

Your ears perked up. "Cookies?"

Derek chuckled, leading you through the maze of desks and toward Penelope's office. "Cookies, brownies, and who knows what else. She’s been on a baking spree."

You could use some sugar. You could also use a distraction, and the more you thought about it, the more your tense mood lifted slightly. But the moment you stepped into Penelope's lair, you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes widening as you saw Spencer sitting next to her with a cookie in his hands. You instinctively pointed a finger toward him.

"You!" The word escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Spencer glanced up at your sudden outburst, the cookie halfway to his mouth. "Eating a cookie?"

You barely held back a scoff as you strode into the room, crossing your arms over your chest. "What did you tell Hotch?"

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What are you talking about?"

Penelope's eyes darted between the two of you. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

Ignoring her concerned and slightly confused look, you fixed your gaze on the man who had been causing you so much frustration. "I went to Hotch and he told me you spoke to him this morning." You took a step closer. "What did you say?"

Spencer's eyes widened slightly, and he carefully placed the cookie down on a paper plate resting at the edge of Penelope's cluttered desk. "I told him that things between us are complicated and that we might need more time before making any changes to our agreement.”

Penelope swiveled in her chair, the furniture creaking under her sudden movement. "Wait, are you two breaking up or something?"

Derek shifted uncomfortably behind you, gesturing toward the door. "Come on, baby girl, I think we should leave."

"Shh! I wanna hear this."

You barely noticed their exchange behind you, your eyes too fixated on Spencer. At this point, you were beyond worrying about who heard your conversation, you just wanted to put an end to everything—the lie, the pretense, the unresolved feelings. You were too exhausted to navigate these complicated emotions, too drained to keep pretending everything was fine. The desire to protect yourself outweighed any concern for an audience.

"Reid," you called sharply, emphasizing his last name as a clear sign of the boundary you were creating between you. The slight wince on his face confirmed that you struck a nerve. "There's no need to think this through anymore, you know I want to end things."

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I know."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make sure you don't make a mistake you'll regret."

You shot a sharp glance at him. "The only mistake was pretending this—" you paused, searching for the right words. Fake relationship? The biggest lie of your life? "—this... situation could work out in the first place."

Spencer’s gaze flickered with hurt, a shadow crossing his features before he quickly masked it. “So you’ve decided it’s all a mistake? Including last night?”

“I decided nothing on a whim,” you replied. “I’ve had plenty of second thoughts about us, and they all lead to the same place. Nowhere.”

“You can’t say that. We should at least—”

You cut him off sharply. “You just don’t get it, do you? There’s no ‘we’ in this. There never has been, and I don’t understand why you’re so determined to force one.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting slightly as he tried to steady his emotions. “No, there is an ‘us’, you just don’t want to admit it, and I’m trying to fix that.”

You finally let out a scoff, the sound jarring in the small, tight space. “By what, running to Hotch? Why did you even think that was necessary?”

"Because it was the only way to get you to talk!" He exclaimed, his voice rising a pitch higher. “You shut me out, and if I have to go through everyone to get you to open up, then I will."

A sense of déjà vu washed over you as you stared at him. It was like being thrown back to the beginning of your fallout and you were replaying the same frustrating pattern, where every attempt to communicate only spiraled into another argument. Most of these fights had been petty, but now, the stakes felt impossibly high.

You suddenly became acutely aware of everything around you—the close proximity between you both, the way the room seemed to shrink as the tension mounted, and how your friends were still watching, silent witnesses to your confrontation. The realization of how inappropriate it was to raise your voice in the office, of how public this argument had become, made you want to take a step back.

“We have nothing more to discuss,” you stated firmly, trying to create some space between you.

He took a step forward. “We both know that's not true."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. The room seemed to hold its breath afterwards, the only sound came from the soft hum of computers in the background. Derek shifted uneasily, glancing at Penelope before breaking the silence with a low, “Let’s go, Garcia, let’s give them some privacy.”

But before either of them could leave, you shot them a glance. “No. Stay.” Your eyes met Spencer’s again, holding his gaze as you added, “He’s about to leave anyway.”

His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, or doubt, or anything that might indicate you didn’t mean what you said. But when he found none, he finally took a step back, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go. But know this—” He paused, looking directly into your eyes. “I’m not giving up on you. Not yet.”

Those words were meant to offer some form of reassurance, showing just how determined he was to fix things, but instead, they left you feeling more unsettled. When he closed the door behind him, you let out a long, weary sigh as your eyes met with Penelope’s. She lifted her plate of sweet treats. “Cookies?”

You shook your head, too drained to muster a response. Her eyes softened, and she stood up, crossing the room in a few quick steps.

“Oh, honey,” she murmured, pulling you into a tight, comforting hug. Her warmth enveloped you, and a lump formed in your throat. You pressed onto her shoulders as you desperately stopped your tears from falling.

You weren’t surprised with Spencer’s relentless attempts to talk to you, it was the fact that you managed to hold back your tears for two whole weeks that truly shocked you. Maybe it was the sudden case that helped you stay distracted. It wasn’t anything major—just a stalking case in town that seemed straightforward to solve, but it was still enough to keep you occupied.

During those two weeks, Spencer tried everything to get your attention. At first, it was through messages. Short, persistent texts that you easily ignored. Then he tried calling, but you always let it go to voicemail, deleting the messages without listening to them. He even showed up at your desk several times, only for you to walk away, finding some lame excuse to be anywhere but there.

There were moments when you’d see him waiting by the coffee machine, hoping to catch you for a casual conversation, but you’d turn on your heel and take the long way around to avoid him. During meetings, when you were gathered around the round table, you made sure to sit as far away from him as possible, refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on your notes instead.

The hardest part of it all was seeing the confusion and hurt in his eyes when he thought you weren't looking, the way he seemed to deflate just a little more with each failed attempt. But you couldn’t let yourself give in, you couldn’t allow the walls you’d built to crumble. You were too afraid of what might happen if you did.

Penelope had noticed, of course. She’d given you looks of concern, her eyes silently asking questions you weren’t ready to answer. Derek had made a few comments, trying to lighten the mood, but even he seemed to sense the depth of the rift between you and Spencer. So you avoided them altogether, throwing yourself into interviews and paperwork while working late into the night and starting early in the morning.

By the time the case wrapped up, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was some time to yourself. It was finally the weekend, and all you could think about was snuggling under a blanket with a mountain of junk food, binge-watching something mindless. But somehow, the universe seemed intent on testing you, because just as you were settling into your couch, you heard a knock on your door.

You could already tell who was waiting on the other side. You could feel it in the way your heart raced and then settled into a tense rhythm. For a moment, you debated pretending you weren’t home, but you knew Spencer well enough to understand he wouldn’t leave that easily.

A knock, then another, and you found yourself dragging your feet toward the door. You weren’t surprised when you peered through the peephole and saw him standing there. You took in his appearance, noticing how his hair had grown a bit longer, falling over his brows in a disheveled way. You also observed the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell you he hadn’t been taking care of himself.

You pulled away, trying to keep your silence. But he knocked again, and then you heard his voice, muffled but clear through the door.

“I know you’re in there.”

To open? Or not to open?

A part of you wanted to swing the door open, to let him in and finally have the conversation that had been hanging over your head for weeks. Maybe this was the chance to finally clear the air, to put everything out in the open and deal with it once and for all. But another part of you was afraid. The cowardly part of you wanted to hide, to avoid the confrontation.

You didn't want to give in to hope only to be disappointed again.

“Y/N, please open the door.”

You rested your forehead against the door. Maybe he would leave if you stayed quiet long enough. Maybe—

“Fine, if you're not going to open it, at least hear me out.”

You closed your eyes. Why was he so stubborn? Why couldn’t he just leave? Why did he have to make this so hard when all you wanted was a moment of peace?

“Please,” he continued. “Just give me a few minutes. If you still want me to leave after that, I will.”

His voice was soft and pleading, carrying a sense of quiet desperation that made it hard to ignore. You fought the urge to open the door immediately, instead taking a few more moments to gather your thoughts. After a long pause, you finally whispered, “You have two minutes.”

You could hear the relief in his breath from the other side. "I can do two minutes," he murmured. The silence that followed was heavy, and you leaned back against the door, feeling its cool surface against your spine. Then, after what felt like an eternity, you heard his voice again.

“I’m sorry.”

You inhaled a sharp breath.

“It seems a little too late, doesn't it?” You could almost sense him flinch on the other side. “I’ve been thinking a lot, about everything—about us. I know saying sorry won’t undo the past, but I mean it. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You listened, arms wrapped tightly around your body. It was as if the physical pressure was the only way to hold yourself together. The silence on your part seemed to spur him on.

“I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about…” he paused, his voice faltering before he cleared his throat. “About what happened that night, how everything just fell apart. I’ve replayed it over and over in my head and you have no idea how I wish I could go back and do things differently.”

You did too. God, you wished you had reacted more calmly that day. You sighed quietly as he continued, “If I could take it all back, believe me, I would. I just…” He trailed off, the question hanging in the air, almost too painful to finish. "I just don’t understand why you don’t want to talk to me now."

And then you felt it—the familiar sting of tears threatening to break through. You took a deep breath, refusing to let them fall when you had been holding yourself together for so long.

"I want to apologize to you in person, but I can’t… I can’t do that if you won’t even look at me.”

His words struck you like a physical blow, and the emotions you'd been trying so hard to suppress began to bubble to the surface. You felt a tightness in your chest, like a weight pressing down, making it hard for you to breathe. And to make it all worse, the memory of that night flashed through your mind. You could still hear the hurtful words, the unbearable silence that followed, the way everything had spiraled out of control so quickly.

You struggled to steady yourself, taking in slow, measured breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale. You repeated the motion until you finally found your voice.

“It’s just—I can’t…” The words caught in your throat, and you felt the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You blinked them away rapidly. “I can’t… talk about what happened without… without breaking down and… and every time I—I think about it, it makes me want to cry.”

It made you feel guilty. It made you feel ashamed, because deep down, you knew you had yourself to blame for how that night unraveled, for the things left unsaid, for the way you both had hurt each other.

“I don’t care if you cry,” he whispered, although you could still hear his voice clearly. "I'll even hold you if you let me, just please, open the door."

You slightly pulled away, your hand hovering over the handle. "Your two minutes is up."

There was a pause, and you could almost hear him holding his breath on the other side, waiting, hoping, before he asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

You felt the cool metal beneath your fingers as you grasped the handle. Did you really want him to go? You always believed that protecting yourself was the safest choice. You had spent so much time building up these walls, convincing yourself that distance was the only way to survive the pain. But as his words lingered in the air, you weren't so sure anymore.

You took a deep breath, the kind that felt like it stretched your lungs to their limit, as if your chest might crack open from the pressure. And then, almost against your own will, you found yourself unlocking the door, slowly pulling it open.

You kept your head down, your eyes first landing on his worn-out Converse. Your gaze traveled along his long legs, then to his chest, taking in the way his jacket looked a little oversized on his frame. You fixed your eyes across the very soft stubble on his jawline, a detail you hadn’t been close enough to notice for too long. And then finally, you met his eyes, and that was when you crumbled.

You wished you were the type of person who could get mad without crying, but you were exactly the opposite. You hated how your emotions took hold of you when all you wanted was to scream at him, to let out the frustration in sharp words instead of broken sobs. And as much as you forced yourself to be strong, the tears came anyway, blurring your vision and spilling over before you could stop them.

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, and without thinking, he reached out, closing the distance between you. His hands hovered for a moment, unsure, before gently cupping your jaw. “No, no,” he murmured. “You’re supposed to cry after we talk.”

Now you just wanted to punch him. But you stopped yourself from resorting to any violence, albeit half-jokingly in your mind. Instead, you let his thumb gently wipe away your tears, you let him draw you into his arms, enveloping you in a warmth that felt hauntingly familiar. It felt the same as it had on his bed, the same as that quiet morning, and as deeply heart-wrenching on that unforgettable night.

You gripped his shirt tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers as you finally let yourself fall into the past.

#much ado about nothing #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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lily-radiance · 8 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel idea

- Fallen-Angel reader(Fem) x Alastor

The reader is doubting Heaven's actions and decides to take a trip to Hell to see for herself.

- Disagrees with the idea of senseless carnage but understands life is not so simple and split in two.

- Charlie, of course, takes her in, although she does not know the reader is an angel. The reader at first doubts the redemption idea but begins to see the vision.

- Reader is not a fan of Lucifer for many reasons, but mainly because he "betrayed" Heaven, and his relationship with Lilith/Charlie is strained.

- Imagine Hell's greatest Dad, but instead of y'know the whole dad part, Lucifer and Alastor are trying to make you pick a side.

- Alastor, chaotic as usual, tries to get the reader to accept being fallen and doesn't want her to go back. She tells him about her 'predicament' before anyone else, and you better believe he wants to fight the angels for you. He tells Charlie and the others about everything because he knows you won't do it yourself. You obviously get mad. Like big mad.

- In your spiral, he sees your wings at their total capacity, and your shaken demeanor has them changing from white to black at a high rate.

- Vox and Valentino get the terrible idea to hold you for ransom against Alastor and Angel Dust, and they do not go unpunished. Vox makes several derogatory comments about your "holier than thou image," Alastor won't let him get away with it. When it comes to you, he has no problem with your lineage, and honestly, he finds it charming that an angel of all creatures would fall for him.

One of your wings gets injured, and unsurprisingly, it happens to be one of the only angelic wings left. (Say the top and bottom wings on each side are black while the middle two are white?) You used to dye your wings to hide your angelic nature, but with an injury present, it is the least of your concerns. Alastor refuses to let you fly while in recovery, and he has to deal with your pouting. When you do heal, he's still weary, always accompanying you in case you need a helping hand.

"Al, I can fly on my own! Look, my wing is healed!"

"No."

"C'mon, just one lap around the hotel!"

"No."

- Husk thinks you're pretty chill company and likes to vent when you have nothing to do. Sure, he can't say much about Alastor without fearing for his soul, but when he can, the conversations are never dull. If you make him laugh, you'll never let him forget it.

- Angel and Nifty constantly tease you about your infatuation with a particular radio demon. Don't expect any worthwhile advice, even if it means no harm. Charlie really wants to see you and Al together, but she might need to be reminded about boundaries.

- Angel Dust once tried to hit on you to see what would happen and nearly got thrown into next week.

- When he says "Good Girl" to Charlie, you can't help but blush and be a little jealous. He isn't afraid to use the phrase to fluster you on purpose, although you would prefer he not.

- If you wear makeup/do your nails, he will be fascinated. He doesn't say anything because once, he spooked you and made you jump, ruining it. The next hour was spent with him memorizing every detail of your designs in case of another mistake. If he scares you again, it's his job to redo everything. Except for mascara. Never mascara.

- Chess and poker games when the staff has downtime. He will use his shadows to help you cheat, but only if he's not playing with you. Husk knows but says nothing.

- If you're listening to music with earbuds, he will occasionally slow the signal so he can bother you. At first, you were annoyed, but realized it was his odd way of communication. Plus, he still hates technology. (You will purposely play "Video Killed The Radio Star" to get him back.)

"Would you kindly stop playing that infernal song, my dear?"

"Not until you stop interrupting my music."

- The Egg Bois love you, that's no surprise. They always ask about you when being watched by Alastor. The radio demon has come to accept the many questions by now, but the first time, he wanted to spit out his coffee. You think fondly of the memory, occasionally bringing it up to lighten the mood.

"Are you and Mom fighting?"

- When you get into disagreements, expect a few dozen bouquets of white roses in your room. He's terrible at expressing emotions other than murderous intent, and Charlie does what she can to help. You're both stubborn, but it gets too exhausting to keep up the act, and eventually, someone has to cave. (Charlie isn't afraid to wear her horns when confronting him, and if he tries to avoid apologizing, Lucifer will make a daily phone call to annoy him.)

"Hey asshole, talk to your girlfriend, it's upsetting my daughter. Also, you suck."

- Regarding the Extermination day, you try your best to fight the Angelic invasion but struggle. Alastor is stuck between keeping you and the Hotel safe. When Adam nearly beats him, you don't know he's alive, but his reappearance at the new and improved hotel is a welcome sight. He's a little rattled that he almost died, but seeing you safe is enough to keep him going. He might be a tad crazier, but you love him to pieces anyway as you run up and hug him. Typically, he despises physical contact, but coming from you, he doesn't mind, even going so far as to hug you back.

"I assure you that I'm alright, mon cher."

"Are you sure, Al, because that was a difficult fight. Wait—your voice!"

The radio demon takes a moment to realize that without his staff, his voice is clearer than before.

"Oh, you must mean the radio feedback is gone. Yes, I suppose you've never heard my regular voice. I had forgotten what it sounded like. How is it?

"It sounds lovely. I couldn't imagine a better fit."

"I should return the compliment; that is what a proper gentleman does. Your wings look lovely as ever, (Y/N)."

You look over your shoulder to see the feathers no longer entirely black, but back to their ivory shade. A few straggled feathers remain, but you don't mind, overjoyed.

In the middle of your undeniably cute interaction, the rest of the staff is watching. It isn't until Husk interrupts with "get a room" that you two get the hint.

Bonus:

Ruffle this tall disaster's hair. He might complain, but he loves it.

Are you feeling extra crazy? Boop him. Just boop the nose. He will do the same to you.

#hazbin hotel #fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin spoilers #alastor x reader

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azullumi · 9 months

Text

“it’s a quarter after one, i’m all alone, and i need you now” ; wanderer

summary — how does he react to you calling him in the middle of the night over some silly reason?

pairing — wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, modern settings, not proof-read (i never proof-read) ; ficlet/scenario

words — 760

note — how do people even write dialogues rhat smoothly like i write a single sentencd of whatever they’re saying and i just think, “oh no they won’t say that” and i have to rewrite it 5 more times

a loud sound of a ring echoes throughout the room, disrupting the peaceful flow of tranquil silence that rests in the corners of the place, and abruptly pulling him out of his sleep. wanderer groans, hand reaching out to grab his phone that sits on the nightstand.

the flash of the screen blinded him for a moment, causing him to squint his eyes until his vision adjusted to the brightness.

1:15. the numbers on the very top of his screen says. displayed along with it was your caller id, your contact saved as a nickname that he gave you.

although he didn’t have to question who was calling him at this time as he knew it was you—you were the only exception to his do not disturb focus of his phone, the only contact whose notifications can go through the strict barriers of the status.

the persistent melody continues to ring for a moment before he answers, “this better be important.” despite the nature of his words, there lingered no hint of malice in his tone but instead, a curious blend of weary patience and unspoken understanding. he didn’t mind you bothering him even if it’s nothing important—your intrusion was always a welcome one.

“hey, were you sleeping?”

“not anymore, obviously. what is it?” the line carried the subtle rustle of movement, the telltale sound of rustled sheets, as wanderer shifted and sat upright from where he was, his head resting against the headboard as he waited for you to answer.

“can you accompany me as i go get water?”

a confused ‘huh?’ comes out from his line. just the single syllable itself wrapped with layers of many words, asking you if you were seriously saying that. if you really called him at this time just so you could have him accompany you with the mundane task of getting water.

“i just watched something scary, okay? it’s not my

fault that the house in the movie looked similar to mine and also do you know what time—don’t laugh!”

“are you genuinely afraid over something as trivial as that?” wanderer says amidst the fading echoes of his laughter, leaving a ghost of what might pass for a smile on his expression. he seems amused over the predicament that you were having; that is just like him, finding entertainment in your suffering.

“whatever, i’m going to go get my water now.” what proceeded was the sound of your footsteps, indicating your journey to the kitchen. “don’t you dare hang up on me.”

“i wasn’t planning to.”

and as if i would. but the unspoken words dissolved on his throat before he could even get himself to say it, leaving him with nothing but silence as he listened to your voice instead, talking about whatever as if a soothing balm that eases the fear which nestles in your nerves.

“i saw this cat earlier this morning and it was so grumpy. it reminded me of you.”

“you think that in every grumpy cat that you see.”

“well, you act like one.”

in that moment, the simple act of conversing between you two becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between fear and solace. your topics jumped from one point to another, never letting the silence fill in the moment—wanderer never ceases to respond to whatever you say, a testament of how he’s always there for you despite the playful teasing sprinkled throughout.

there was the sound of the door closing before he hears you say: “got my water now.”

“figured.”

silence envelopes both sides of the line, albeit, it only lasted for a short moment before being broken up by your voice.

“thanks for picking up the phone.” i mean, he could have chosen to just ignore the ring and continue to sleep but no, he didn’t. instead, he chose to answer and comply with your silly little request because your ass was too scared to go out of your room in the middle of the night, thinking that someone or something was going to come after and chase you just like that one scene in what you watched. he stayed with you all throughout, letting the comfort of his voice dispel the shadows that threatened to linger—even when he was scaring you and telling you that he can hear something.

“not like i don’t answer every time.” you could call him, ring his phone many times no matter what time it is, and he would pick up the phone every single time; that’s just how he is, for you and only you.

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leonw4nter · 4 months

Note

I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?

My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth

Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.

He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.

You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.

“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”

“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.

“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”

“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”

“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.

“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”

He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.

“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”

Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.

“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.

“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.

All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”

After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.

“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”

“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.

He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.

“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”

He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.

“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”

“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.

“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”

The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.

“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.

After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.

“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”

“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.

Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.

“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”

Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.

“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”

His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.

“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains

The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.

He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.

NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

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rosesareredrosa · 1 month

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Easier to Hate

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Based on this ask thank you anon <33

a/n: Might do a part 2 maybe they end up together???

w/c: 900

The echoing corridors of the Ministry of Magic were a far cry from the stone walls of Hogwarts, yet they held an air of familiarity that you found unsettling. You never imagined that after leaving school, you’d be working in the same department as Theodore Nott—the one person who had managed to make your Hogwarts years both challenging and infuriating.

You had always been at odds. As a Ravenclaw, your pride in your intellect and your drive for success had clashed spectacularly with Theo’s Slytherin cunning and ambition. He was sharp, relentless, and always seemed to find a way to undercut your achievements, often with a smirk that made your blood boil. But beneath the rivalry, there had been something else—a tension that neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge.

Now, years later, you found yourself standing outside your new office, staring at the nameplate next to the door: "Theodore Nott."

Before you could knock, the door swung open, and there he stood, looking as though no time had passed. Tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes that still held that same unsettling intensity. But there was something else there too—a shadow, a heaviness that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re late,” Theo remarked, his tone clipped. There was no smirk this time, just a weariness that surprised you.

You stepped inside, forcing a smile. “Some things never change, do they?”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No, I suppose they don’t.”

The first few weeks were exactly what you expected—tense. You and Theo fell back into your old patterns, arguing over nearly every detail of your work. It was exhausting, but you told yourself it was better this way. It was easier to fight with Theo than to deal with the mess of emotions that had lingered between you since Hogwarts.

One evening, after a particularly heated argument over a case file, you snapped. “Why do you always have to be like this? Why can’t we just work together for once?”

He froze, his expression darkening. “Because working together with you means admitting that I care.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings. Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his confession pressing down on you.

“What are you talking about?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Theo looked away, his jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you? All those years at Hogwarts, all those fights—it wasn’t because I hated you. It was because I didn’t know how to deal with what I felt.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What are you saying?”

He finally met your gaze, and the raw emotion in his eyes made your heart ache. “I’m saying that I was a coward. I was afraid of what you made me feel, so I pushed you away. I thought that if I could beat you, I could ignore it. But I couldn’t.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words suffocating. You had spent years convincing yourself that Theo was nothing more than a rival, someone to compete with and defeat. But now, faced with the truth, you realized that the anger, the frustration, had always been masking something deeper—something you had been too afraid to confront.

“Theo…” you began, but your voice broke.

He shook his head, stepping back as if the distance could protect him. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re different people, and this—whatever it was—it’s too late.”

The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. You had always been proud of your ability to stay composed, to never let anyone see how deeply they affected you. But here, in this moment, all those defenses crumbled.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” you said, your voice trembling. “Maybe we just need to stop pretending we hate each other.”

For a moment, you thought he might agree, that the years of bitterness and regret could be washed away by this confession. But then he looked at you, his expression hardening.

“It’s easier to hate you,” he said quietly, and the words felt like a slap. “Because if I don’t, then I have to face the fact that I’ve wasted years fighting against the only person who ever really challenged me, who ever really mattered.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, heavy with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. You wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that you had spent years burying your feelings because it was easier than dealing with the pain of loving someone who seemed to hate you.

But before you could speak, Theo turned away, his voice hollow. “Let’s just get back to work.”

And with that, the moment was gone, the chance for anything more slipping through your fingers like sand. You watched him retreat into the safety of his desk, the familiar walls of professionalism rising up between you once again.

As you sat down to work, the ache in your chest only grew, a reminder of all the things left unsaid and all the years wasted on a rivalry that had been nothing more than a mask for something far more complicated.

You both continued to work together, but the air between you was different now—thicker, tinged with the unspoken regret and the weight of all the missed opportunities. And as much as you tried to focus on your work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had lost something precious, something that might never be found again.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the tension between you only grew, you found yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late after all. Maybe there was still a chance to turn things around, to let go of the past and build something new—something real.

The only question was whether Theo was willing to take that chance with you, or if you were destined to remain enemies.

#slytherin x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months

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The Truth of the Matter

A/N: Warning dirty talk and misunderstandings of a certain word.

Summary: One day, Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike decide to summon a fairy. . .it's Steve Harrington. Chaos ensues. Pre-season 4, pre-Steddie.

Eddie pouted as he sat down on his throne. He was really looking forward to playing tonight, but Gareth, Jeff, and Frankie were all out sick. They had all gotten mono, which is what they get for practicing kissing. Gareth immediately yelled at him for that comment. Apparently, that's not what happened. Eddie was cackling to himself when the door opened. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all filtered in talking excitedly.

"Hey, buttheads, did you not get the memo? Hellfire has been canceled," Eddie said.

"We thought you were joking," Dustin said.

"You never cancel Hellfire for anything," Lucas frowned.

"Well, Jeff, Gareth, and Frankie are all out sick with the kissing disease," Eddie said.

"Oh, that's right, they weren't at lunch," Mike said.

"Well, now what?" Lucas asked.

"You boys want to perform a spell?" Eddie said. "I found this cool little book at a Flea Market. Want to try it?"

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin all shared weary looks.

"Uh. . . "

"What? Don't be a bunch of chicken shits. Nothing is going to happen. It's just for fun," Eddie said. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Of course, nothing is going to happen," Dustin said laughing. "That would he crazy."

"You're laughing a little hard there, Henderson," Eddie said. "It's not like I'm going to accidentally open a portal to hell."

Now, it was Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all laughing rather loudly. Eddie gave them all strange looks.

"Robes!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"We have those?" Lucas asked, and Eddie just cackled.

Several moments later, they lowered the lights and slipped on robes that covered their faces. Lit candles were scattered around them as Eddie opened a leather bound book in front of them.

"Why in the fuck did I get stuck with the pink robe?" Mike asked. "Why are all the others black and this one is pink?"

"You were too slow, Mike. Now, hush," Dustin said.

"What are we summoning?" Lucas asked.

"A fairy," Eddie replied.

"Why a fairy?" He asked.

"Well, according to this book, fairies have extraordinary healing abilities, bring you good luck, and have the ability to shield you from harm," Eddie said. "Sounds cool although, sometimes they have shitty luck themselves, so I don't know how that works."

"It also says they're loneliest creatures on the planet because they're wildly misunderstood," Dustin read over his shoulder. "Rather than harming children like some think, these creatures do everything in their power to protect them from harm. Most of the time, it is because they themselves were stolen in the night as children to be used by human greed. Aw, why didn't you say you just wanted to summon a lonely fairy who protects children?"

"Shut it, Henderson," Eddie said.

"And you're sure they won't be able to see our faces?" Dustin asked, and Eddie gave him a look. "Right. Shutting up."

Eddie began speaking and used his deep dungeon master voice as he said the spell. After the entire spell was done, they waited. . . and waited. . . Finally, a huge gust of wind swirled around them, the flames grew large, and the lights flickered behind them. Suddenly, a figure was falling in the middle of their circle with a loud thud.

"I was on a fucking ladder! What the fuck!" Steve’s voice yelled. "Oh, there's the light bulb. Huh, it didn't break."

Steve flopped onto his back and screamed at the sight of hooded figures surrounding him. Surprised voices whispered excitedly as they looked down on him. Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the sight of the bright pink one.

"Do not be afraid, Steve Harrington," a deep voice spoke. "We mean you no harm."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Steve asked. "How did you even bring me here?"

"Magic. . .tell us your deepest, darkest secrets," the voice said.

"Fuck. Fuck! Okay! Okay! I, uh, like blue and yellow, but what everyone doesn't know, besides Robin, is that I like the color pink," Steve said.

"Interesting, but not what we're looking for," the voice said.

"I always wanted a little brother, but it wasn't until the kids I babysit came into my life that I finally got the siblings I always wanted, and I think if anyone of them died, I would die," Steve said.

"Aw," a familiar voice said softly and sniffled.

"That's . . . Really fucking sweet but no, not what I'm looking for," the voice said.

"Okay, okay. . .Robin's like my best friend in the world, my platonic soulmate, but I lied to her. She asked me if I was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, and I lied, I think I always will be. I just didn't want to seem so pathetic because I know it's over," Steve said. "Is that it?"

"Uh. . .warmer. . ."

"I once had a sex dream where I was with Jonathan and Nancy, but I never told anyone because I thought it would be weird."

"What the fu - "

"Quiet," the deep voice said. "That isn't what I'm looking for, but, uh, close."

"Okay, I once got my dick sucked at a party by a guy, and it led me to a lot of realizations. . ." Steve trailed off.

"OKAY. . .mi'lord, I do not think this man knows that he is a fairy," one of the figures said.

"HEY! That is a really offensive term. I'm bisexual," Steve replied. "Sacrifice me all you want but respect my sexuality please. Although I once used a rude term, I didn't know about myself at the time. Do you want to talk before you kill me?"

"You're, uh, surprisingly calm now," the deep voice said. "For someone who thinks we're going to kill them."

"Well, it's happened too many times now," Steve shrugged. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

". . .no."

"Well, I wish I was a woman sometimes. . .mostly because I wish I could go through the birthing process. . . I don't think my parents are my real parents. . . I once let Robin touch my dick because she wanted to know what it felt like. . . It was weird for both of us. . .sometimes I think about getting on my knees for Eddie Munson and - "

"OOKAY! STEVE, STOP SPILLING YOUR DEEP DARK SECRETS! I ACCEPT YOU FOR ALL OF IT BUT SOME THINGS SHOULD REMAIN A MYSTERY!"

"Let him speak!" The deep voice said.

"Stop with the sexual ones, at least!"

"Okay. . .um, it makes me really happy to know that I have a hobby to share with one of my kids. I mean, at least one of them, you know, understands why I like basketball so much. I love all of my kids, and I really wish I could play D&D, but I'm not great at math. I don't want to look more stupid in front of them. More importantly, I could be doing anything with them, and I still feel less alone knowing they want me to be around them. . . Even if they're being shitheads. I love it though, when they bitch at me. They're my family, and I've never really felt like I had that until they came along," Steve said. "Robin, too. She's my family too."

Suddenly, all Steve could hear was the sound of them sniffling, and they dropped to their knees around him. They dropped their hoods, revealing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. They all hugged him tightly.

"What the fuck?" Steve asked.

"We'll explain it all later," Dustin sniffled. "Just know that we love you too."

"Oh, you're also adopted," Mike muttered.

"He wasn't adopted! He was kidnapped!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Oh, right."

The other person dropped their hood, revealing Eddie Munson.

"So, what was that thing you wanted to do with Eddie?" He asked with a smirk.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Robin came running in, breathing heavily.

"Guys! Steve was changing the light bulb in Family Video, and he just disappeared - oh, hey, Steve! Steve! What the fuck's going on?!" Robin asked.

"Robin, guess what?!" Mike asked. "Steve’s a fucking fairy!"

"No! Robin, don't punch Mike! That's not what he meant!"

Mike screamed.

Part Two

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kneelingshadowsalome · 3 months

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I have the need to ask about something really cliche, but I can't help it. I'm still crying because DOG ended.

May I ask if they will have babies? How Dog König would react if Reader gets pregnant? Would he be proud or happy of having a pup? Does he want a whole pack of puppies?

I'm afraid König will start to hound reader about raising a family with him right after they get married. Poor thing just can't catch a break with this guy :/

A litter of puppies is the ultimate dream for König, some peak fantasy, but he will be happy with just one pup if she decides to act difficult about it. He will pester her about getting off her birth control pills, and gives lengthy monologues about what a great mother she would be. He also whines about how he's too old to produce good sperm if they wait around for too long.

Baby fever König shouldn't be allowed near children because he puts literally everyone into awkward situations (a two meter man with crooked teeth and a broken nose baby talking to a 10-year old can be an off putting sight). One way or another, he will persuade her to reproduce with him, and it isn't even because he wants to have control over how many times they have sex. He actually thinks they should make babies and that he'd be a relatively good father!

What König *actually* likes is the idea of coming home to his family – ever growing, if possible. He already loves this future image of a plump baby being propped on his wife's teat when he comes home, maybe another child clutching at her hem, asking if dad brought any "souvenirs" from his "work trip".

He wants her to feed him homemade lasagna and then sit down at the table and feed their baby too while he eats — König would love to watch a pair of swollen tits being suckled by his very own baby, this beautiful idyll playing out so nicely before him. He would love to see his pretty girl all plush and weary, his perfect wife now in desperate need of a bath and a hug. Reader being a bit too spent and tired to say no to him and his ideas is just what König needs: maybe she's one of those moms who cry at night, wailing that they're too tired to go to their children. This would mean he is needed once again to come to her (and now also the baby's) rescue.

Dog König thinks it's filthily romantic to make love to her with the intention of getting her pregnant, but little does he think about the consequences to her and what this all entails. He promises to do everything right though, and makes a huge deal about the performance itself. Refuses to pull out afterwards, does it only when he absolutely has to and tries to hold her legs and ass up to keep the sperm in, even if she clearly stated that she's not ovulating. When she peeps under him that neither of them are ready to be parents, he shushes her softly, gathers the drooling cum on the tip of his cock, and pushes it back in :(

#dog!könig #stalker!könig #yandere könig

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littlefireball · 4 months

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ᴍɢ|ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ (ᴍ)

ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ ᴍɪɴɢɪ x ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ/ꜰʀᴇɴᴇᴍʏ/ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ/ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱʜɪᴛ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ/ᴍɪɴɢɪ ʜᴀꜱ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ/ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ/ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx/ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.6ᴋ

"It's been a while, Y/N," Mingi greeted you with a smile as you clinked glasses. "How have you been?"

"Same as always," you replied, a hint of weariness in your voice.

"Really? I heard about your boyfriend-"

"Dead. And he was never my boyfriend, just an ex," you cut in sharply, the memory stirring up a storm of anger within you.

"Can't we talk about something else? When did you start caring so much about me?" you deflected, raising an eyebrow at Mingi.

"We're good friends, aren't we? Is it wrong to care about your friends?" Mingi replied casually, sipping his wine which was annoying. Care? Tsk…He just wanted to have a good laugh at you.

Your relationship with Mingi was complex, a mix of friendship and rivalry in the Mafia world, where you could be at odds one moment and allies the next.

“You just want to see my joke. Don’t you?”

“I haven’t said that.” Ignoring his words, you rolled your eyes and sipped your wine.

"Have you thought about finding a new boyfriend?"

"I don't know," you replied, guarded.

"Well, with your fiery temper and dangerous aura, not many would dare to be your boyfriend," Mingi teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful voice?" you asked, trying to suppress the urge to hit him and smile slightly.

"No."

“Then why don't you shut up?!”

Your voice carried a note of warning, but instead of being afraid, he leaned in close and whispered provocatively, "I don't know who else could handle you but me."

The intimate gesture caught you off guard, a blush creeping onto your face. You felt his breath brushing against your ear, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

“You...”

“Are you shy?” You panicked at being told off and pushed him away, he dodged your kick.

“Look! I was right, wasn't I?” You were about to say something back when a sickening yell stopped you in your tracks.

Before you could respond, a commotion interrupted the moment.

"Y/N!" A man pushed his way through the crowd, tears streaming down his face as if he had been crying for hours.

"Don't security guards work anymore? How did they let this wild dog in?" Your voice was cold and filled with annoyance, your impatience evident on your face.

"What do you mean, Y/N?" The man in front of you paled, unable to comprehend your words.

"You don't understand human language, do you? Are you really just a dog?" Your heart, once filled with love for this man, now only harbored hatred. The memory of the betrayal and violation from that fateful night is still fresh in your mind.

"No, Y/N. I know you still care for me. Please, don't leave me!" The man pleaded, desperation in his eyes. You fidgeted with the glass of wine in your hand, your whitened fingertips looking like they were going to break the stem. The eyes of the entire room fall on you, whispering and murmuring, and there are even ugly jeers.

At this rate you'll be the laughing stock of the Mafia.

“I know I was wrong, can you forgive me?”

"Forgive you? Am I that forgiving?" You raised an eyebrow, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"She's not!" Mingi interjected, his presence adding to the tension in the room. Your tongue tipping your right cheek in an expression of extreme displeasure.

"Who is he? Your new lover? How dare you?" You lashed out, slapping him to the ground, releasing all the pent-up resentment and anger.

Your action startled everyone and the room fell silent, you looked at the man before you, a sudden realization flashing through your mind. Without warning, you grabbed Mingi's tie and kissed him, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. Without waiting for him to kiss back, you left his lips and met the man's gaze with defiance.

"Yes, he's my boyfriend, and you mean nothing to me. How dare you think you still have a place in my heart?" You declared, holding Mingi close, not realizing that your proximity had caused him to stiffen, his heartbeat thumping to drown out all sound.

"You should be grateful that I didn't kill you at that time. How dare you come to see me and court death? "

“No, Y/N, you're acting, aren't you?” Your patience worn thin and looked down on the man. You poured the red wine over him, the glass shattering against the ground.

"I toast you." With a swift motion, you drew the gun from Mingi's jacket, aiming it at the man's head without hesitation.

The gunshot rang out, ending the chapter of your past love. The crowd scattered, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire. The security guards arrived, swiftly handling the aftermath.

"You can have it back." Without a look , you placed the gun in Mingi's hand and turned to leave. But before you could make your escape, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back.

"What? I didn't harm you."

"Shouldn't you take responsibility?" Mingi crouched down to your eye level, a sly smile playing on his lips, his gaze filled with desire.

"I... I apologize for any offense caused. I'll make it up to you by treating you to dinner next time." You attempted to move past him, but he blocked your path, towering over you with his imposing presence. His strong aura seemed to engulf you, leaving you feeling small and vulnerable in comparison. However, everyone knew that beneath your seemingly delicate exterior lies a formidable strength.

His magnetic presence exudes a captivating allure, making it hard for you to resist or break free. His deep, mesmerizing eyes convey an unspoken longing, causing your heart to race and a blush to creep onto your cheeks. As the Mafia Boss, you refuse to be outmatched.

"One meal doesn't seem like sufficient compensation." Mingi's voice was low and enticing, drawing you in with each word.

"What do you want?" Your question was interrupted as you back hitted a round table, leaving you with no escape. Mingi pressed his body against yours, encircling your waist with his arms and positioning himself intimately close. He leaned in towards your lips, his breath teasing your senses.

"I want what that man once had." His breath dances across your lips with every syllable, as though he's playing with your nerves. Your ears started to get red because of shyness.

"He may not know how to love you, but I do." A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"You... um-" Before you could respond, Mingi captured your lips in a kiss, his scent enveloping you in a heady mix of musk and alcohol. You attempted to resist, but his advances left you powerless. His lips moved hungrily against yours and his hands ran up and down your body, igniting a tingling sensation that sent shivers down your spine. He sucked on your lips, licking and biting them. All was driving you crazy.

You kept your lips sealed, determined to maintain your composure as a mafia boss, unwilling to let him break through. "You have to open your mouth for a kiss, didn't that man teach you that?" He withdrew from your lips abruptly, his breath warm against your ear as he planted a kiss on your temple. “I…Hm…”Before you could respond, he cupped your face and kissed you once more.

His hands roamed down your body, tracing the curves with a delicate touch. A soft moan escaped your lips, prompting him to deepen the kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours in a dance of desire. The intensity of the moment consumed you, the heat between you rising with each passing second. You forget the struggle and throw yourself into the heat of the moment. It had been so long since you felt this kind of passion, this kind of fire.

The kiss was a tempest, stirring emotions within you that you had long buried. As you struggled to catch your breath, he gazed at your flushed, swollen lips with a hint of satisfaction.

"How was my kissing?"

"You..." You lightly tapped his chest, a shy smile playing on your lips.

"Want something even better?"

"What?" His hand trailed down your waist, his knee brushing against you, sending a shiver down your spine. With a few simple movements, he ignited a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

"But...what if someone sees..."

"Do you care? You're in the business of taking lives, does it really matter?"

"I want them to see how I fuck the life out of you."

"Min..." Your protest was cut short by his kiss, reigniting the passion and possessiveness from before. He devoured your lips, his hunger palpable, greedily sucking the sweetness from your mouth. With ease, he lifted you onto the table, your skirt riding up to reveal your long, elegant legs.

"Oh fuck. You're so beautiful. How can that asshole not like you?" His fingers trailed down your neck and you lifted your head to give him more access. He left a trail of kisses and marks while sucking hard on your collarbone, the deep red hickey standing out on your fine skin.

"Ah! Min..."

"Patience, my dear." His fingers teased over your panties, hooking them gently, and you lifted your ass knowingly to let him take them off. “Don't prepare me, I'm ready.” you whispered, causing his eyes to widen briefly before returning to their calm demeanor. “Tell me to stop if it hurts.”

He pulled down his pants and underwear just enough to free his cock, larger than you had ever seen, glistening with pre-cum. It seemed eager to enter your cunt, to claim you as his own.

He deftly removes a condom from his pocket, tearing it open with a sharp bite. "So, you came prepared?" you teased. "I'm only preparing for you," A mischievous glint in his eyes. He rolled the condom onto his hardened shaft and gently kissed your lips. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

As he eased into you, a wave of pleasure washes over you, and you arched your back in response. Your legs bent against his thighs when you adjusted his size. His left arm wrapped around your waist while another hand put on the table as support. With each rhythmic thrust, the intensity builds, sending shivers down your spine. "Ah! Mingi!" you gasp, your nails digging into his back as he holds you close, his movements becoming more urgent and primal.

“You’re so fucking tight! Did that bitch ever fuck you?” His deep thrusts hitted all the right spots, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You moan softly, your body responding to his every touch. Your breath quickened, and your heart raced as he explored every inch of your body with his lips and hands as if he knew your body really well. His shaft rubbing against your velvet wall while his tip kept hitting your deepest part.

You couldn’t help but moan shyly and your mouth formed an 'O' shape.Your chest heaved dramatically as your breathing became rapid. You wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him closer to you. “Oh god!!!” He suddenly slammed into you like he's trying to break through your limits, plunging into the deepest part of you, ramming into the same spot over and over again.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” In a moment of pure abandon, he surges forward, his movements becoming more forceful and unrestrained. The table rattles with each powerful thrust, adding to the symphony of passion that fills the room.He hissed as he buries himself in your chest, greedily inhaling your scent.

He had waited patiently for this moment, his feelings for you growing stronger with each passing day. Despite his disbelief in love at first sight, he found himself falling for you the moment he laid eyes on you. Keeping his emotions hidden, he feared that his overwhelming desire might jeopardize your friendship. But when he saw you standing up to a despicable individual, his suppressed feelings surged to the surface, overpowering his rationality. And when you kissed him, he knew there was no turning back.

"Fuck!Y/N!I love you so much!," he showered you with kisses, his passion unleashed like a wild storm. “Ah! Ah!” Your breath caught in your throat as he fervently explored every inch of your being, the intensity of his touch leaving you breathless. He was going faster and the sound of skin slapping and squeaking of water drove him crazy. With one hand hooked around his neck and the other against the edge of the table, you raised your head and moaned, completely lost in the moment. You let go of all inhibitions, the world around you fading into oblivion.

"I'm cumming, fuck,min!" you gasped, your body trembling with desire. His response was a primal growl, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy. As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, a symphony of moans and cries filling the air. He pushed you down with his hands gripping your shoulders. Both of your lower core pressed together and your body moved back and forth with his thrusts. The friction even hurt your back a little, but you ignored it and let him keep thrusting.

“Min...I wanna cum.” “Cumming mess on my cock. I want to feel you.” His words were like a catalyst that pushed you right over the edge. After a high-pitched moan, you squirted. “Oh my god!” He felt a rush of heat around his tip and felt himself going over the edge. He buried his head in the crook of your neck for the final stroke, and his thrusts became sloppy. Finally, after a few thrusts, he cummed all in the condom and slowly withdrew inside you.

"I've never cummed so much before," he confessed and threw the condom in the trash can. His gaze was soft and filled with emotion. Disposing of the remnants of passion, he then tenderly fixed your disheveled appearance, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Was that good for you?" he asked. You patted his chest then rested your head against it, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Yah...it's good.” You trailed off, and he teased, “What? Say that again! I can’t hear you!”

You cupped his face and suddenly kissed him. He's stunned into silence. “Now you know?” He cracked a satisfied smile and tried to kiss you again, but you stopped him as you placed a finger on his lips.

“We gotta go now. We’ve stayed here too long.”

“Then just go to my home? Sounds good?” “Up to you.” He carried you in his arms and headed straight for the exit with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What?”

“Go on a date with me?”

“You already had sex with me. How can you still ask me this stupid question?” You rolled your eyes with a little impatient tone.

“I'm afraid you'll just think it's a one-night stand.”

“Am I such a casual person?” You rolled your eyes again. You didn’t know why he always asked such stupid questions and could still be a mafia boss.

“Nah, I haven’t said that! So your answer is?

“Sure.”

Soon, word of your relationship spread throughout the Mafia.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you

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