#HEY I WOULD LOVE IT IF THE PLOTS THAT DROPPED FULLY FORMED INTO MY HEAD WERE ONE OF THE ONES I WAS

[guqin-and-flute]

Oh. Something is writing itself in my head, suddenly! After all this time! Which WIP is it, you ask? What established universe?

Why none! IT'S A NEW ONE, OF COURSE. 🙃

[hollybell51]

Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth. 

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least. 

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion. 

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly. 

“Would you say that, Cas?” 

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat. 

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?” 

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.” 

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?” 

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward. 

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.” 

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?” 

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.” 

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–” 

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.” 

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid. 

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.  

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–” 

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?” 

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed. 

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.” 

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing. 

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.” 

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.” 

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed. 

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–” 

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.” 

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening. 

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent. 

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.” 

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.” 

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?” 

“Maybe.” 

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.” 

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet. 

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.” 

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.” 

“Because I scared away a prostitute?” 

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.” 

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?” 

“Feelings?” 

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie… 

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Someone who wants you.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Not just your money.” 

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.” 

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks. 

“Do you want me?” Cas asked. 

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own. 

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right. 

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect. 

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious. 

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties. 

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again. 

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you. 

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.” 

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought. 

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip. 

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.” 

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body. 

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human. 

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.” 

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face. 

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added. 

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.” 

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?” 

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.” 

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest. 

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push. 

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones. 

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?” 

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you. 

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired. 

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.” 

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.” 

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.” 

“Bone graffiti?” 

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts. 

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips. 

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment. 

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly. 

“Keep going?” 

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing. 

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection. 

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again. 

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm. 

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.” 

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.” 

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.” 

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.” 

“And did it?” 

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh. 

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly. 

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–” 

“Yes, you did cum?” 

“Yes, yes I did.” 

“Was it good?” 

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.” 

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel. 

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways. 

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis. 

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw. 

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light. 

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?” 

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

You smiled. “Yeah.” 

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?” 

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.” 

“I want you to feel good too.” 

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs. 

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking. 

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe. 

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request. 

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one. 

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining. 

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then. 

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?” 

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor. 

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing. 

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door. 

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again. 

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving. 

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own. 

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.” 

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement. 

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.” 

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick. 

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.” 

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more. 

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips. 

You smiled. “Ready?” 

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you. 

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.” 

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long. 

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.” 

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts. 

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.” 

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.” 

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation. 

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–” 

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle. 

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest. 

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself. 

“Sorry, sorry I–” 

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–” 

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display. 

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval. 

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.” 

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?” 

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?” 

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.” 

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance. 

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him. 

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now. 

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?” 

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—” 

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin. 

“Alright?” you breathed. 

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that? 

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand. 

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–” 

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer. 

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind. 

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling. 

“Alright?” you asked. 

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently. 

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?” 

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.” 

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.” 

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.” 

“No?” 

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.” 

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about  the rest? What do you think?” 

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.” 

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?” 

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.” 

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction. 

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.” 

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.” 

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?” 

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.” 

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder. 

“G’night,” you whispered. 

“Good night, (Y/N).” 

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet. 

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.” 

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 7)

a/n: aaand part 7 is finally here! however i want to warn yall that we are nearing the end of NHIE, im planning on having one more part and i don’t think it’ll be any longer, so enjoy while it lasts! lmao as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 5.7k

warning: some slight violence? it’s the good kind, you’ll see lmao

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Sitting in your trailer you stare down at your phone longingly, rereading Harry’s last text.

“Miss you, hope everything is alright. Facetime when you’re free?”

You hate how your chest is aching at such a small and sweet thing. If you had the chance, you’d run into Harry’s arms without a second thought, but you are stuck in Atlanta while he is currently back in LA, feeling farther away than ever, in every sense.

It’s been three weeks since you left the city and parted ways with Harry. You hated it. You absolutely hated how he was looking at you and how you was about to cry in his fucking Range Rover as he was dropping you off at the airport. You tried to make it quick so you don’t get too caught up in the moment, but the moment he kissed you, it was over for you. For a split second you were ready to cancel on the whole movie and just stick with the plans you made before you got the role, but that wasn’t really an option.

Since that day, Harry has been very respectful of your will to keep some distance, he always checks in before trying to call to make sure you have time, he doesn’t text you about the most random things like he used to, maybe because you both are so busy, you basically live on set while he has left for his tour exactly a week ago, and you can tell he is trying his best to never even mention Levi.

The news that you’d have to work with your ex came as a punch in your stomach. Taiki contacted you himself to talk to you about his choice to include Levi in the movie. He has informed you that they all agreed on him at the end of the casting process, but he wanted to make sure it’s okay by you as well. What would have you said? You wouldn’t just start off a project with getting someone out of the movie before filming even started. You had no choice but to suck it up and say that it’s all fine.

Now you are stuck to see him almost every day and spend your free time with him as well since he is always the first one to show up when a little group of the cast is out and about. He has always been such a social butterfly, though now you wish he would just lock himself up in his hotel room and not show up until he is needed on set.

Levi has been trying. He’s been pushing on your nerves, always coming up to chit-chat, like there’s nothing weird or absurd about the situation, but there’s plenty. Seeing that the last time you two saw each other you threw a book at him and he threatened you to sue you if you dare to even say his name ever again. Your breakup was the definition of nasty while the rest of the world just noticed a quiet and uneventful parting, photos disappearing from Instagram and awkward smiles whenever either of you were asked about the other.

While you are all about being civil and professional, what he has been doing feels like he is trying to get under your skin, testing your patience with him, which is starting to run short.

For an outsider he is acting perfectly fine, even human towards you, but you know him all too well, you know all his little tricks and moves because you used to be an expert on the topic of Levi Hudson.

Huffing to yourself you get back to the text and type a quick reply.

“Still on set, I have two more scenes to film. Will text you when I’m back at the hotel xx”

You wish you could call him right away, you wish he was here with you and you wish you didn’t have to go back to set and face Levi once again. You really thought you’d get entirely consumed by work once filming starts and run short on time and energy to even think about Harry, but it hasn’t been the case. He is all you can think about, you always catch yourself wondering what he is doing, how his day has been or if he is thinking about you too. You cling onto your phone the moment they yell Cut! and frantically check if he has texted you. It’s taking a toll on you and you can only hope you’ll last until the movie is wrapped and you can finally join him on tour, just like you planned.

“Hey there,” Maya steps out of her own trailer when you turn the corner and she catches up with you quickly. “Wha’s up?”

“Just plotting how I can leave early,” you huff, making her laugh. You’ve become the closest to her, you right away bonded when you met at the table read and she caught you grimacing behind Levi’s back when you thought no one was looking. She came up and simply told you she doesn’t like him for literal no reason, he just has a punchable face and an alliance was formed right then and there.

“Oh Honey, let me know when you figured it out,” she chuckles, circling an arm around your shoulders as you both make your way to the set laughing.

Trying your best, you focus fully on the job on hand so you can leave as soon as possible, call Harry and go to bed. Today has been way longer than you would have liked and you just need to get away from set, despite how much you enjoy filming in general. Sometime during the taping Harry texts you that he is free whenever you are and will be waiting for your call and it just makes you even keener on leaving.

When filming is finally finished, you find yourself storm out faster than ever, already ringing up Harry as you are walking back towards your trailer. When he answers the call, his smiley face fills the screen and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hey! Done for the day?” he asks, seemingly eating something as he talks.

“Luckily,” you breathe out. “What are you eating?”

A blush appears on his pixelated face as he glances down and grabs his bowl, showing it into the camera. He is eating your pesto pasta recipe.

“I had a strong craving for it,” he shyly tells. “It’s not as good as yours though.”

“There’s nothing to do different about it, H,” you chuckle.

“I know, but it’s different when you make it,” he smiles and his words warm your chest. Just as you are about to tease him about being so corny, you hear your name being called out. Turning around you see Levi jogging towards you.

“Here we fucking go,” you mumble, not ending the call with Harry who is a little confused about the situation since he can’t see the intruder in your conversation.

“Are you heading back to the hotel?” he asks, catching up with you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on sleeping in my trailer,” you answer with a frown.

“Wanna share a car?”

“Why would I?” you simply ask.

“What’s with the attitude, Y/N?” he scoffs as if he was an angel and deserved all the respect on earth.

“Why do you keep coming up to me?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice!” he snaps, but it’s all for the wrong reason. You don’t buy this shit, nice is the last thing he is trying to be and you know that for sure.

“No, you keep getting on my nerves and you know that! We don’t have to interact outside of set and I want to keep it that way, Levi!”

“Now you are being a bitch, Y/N.”

“Excuse you?” Harry’s voice is coming from your phone’s speaker and you suddenly realize that he is still there, listening to the conversation. You glance down at the screen and see his now angry expression on it.

“Who’s that?” Levi nods towards the phone with a frown, but then realization must hit him. “Is that Harry Styles you’re talking to?”

“None of your fucking business, Levi. And leave me the fuck alone.” Turning around you start marching back to your trailer that’s now so close, but once again, his voice stops you.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap back at him, one hand already on the door handle of your trailer, the other one holding your phone.

“If you think he wants more than just a good fuck and some publicity out of you, you’re delusional.”

“Fuck you, Levi!” you flip him off before walking into the trailer and shutting the door behind you.

With your back against the door you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, fighting with yourself not to go back out and kick him in the stomach. This is how it has been, he starts acting all nice, pretending like he is the good buy, but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he is quick to show his real, asshole self he keeps hidden.

“Angel? You alright?” Harry’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and once again, you realize that he is still in call, staring from the screen with a worried expression on his handsome face.

Taking another deep breath you bring the phone up so he can finally see your face.

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” you mumble, feeling way more tired than you were just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t apologize, it’s none of your fault. But I gotta ask, has he been this big of a dick since the start?”

“Kind of,” you sigh, walking further inside. You put the phone to the little vanity, propping it up against the mirror as you start washing your makeup off.

“Have you tried doing something against it? You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I’m not trying to be the whiny star who gets someone kicked out. I don’t know what others would think if I told Levi is being a jerk to me, because he is fine with everyone else. Maya is the only one who knows about it, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“Then just punch him,” he suggests making you laugh.

“I wish I could.”

“Want to talk about it? I would love to listen to you talk about how big of a dick your ex is and about your hatred towards him,” he tells you, way too excited about the topic and it makes you chuckle.

“Let’s not talk about him, I get enough of him all day. But not enough of you.”

It just slips out, way too cheesy than you intended it to be, but it makes him smile so you don’t mind it.

“Is this your way of being casual?” he chuckles softly.

“Shut up,” you grin. “Tell me about your day while I get ready to leave.”

You listen to Harry tell you about his day in the smallest details as you clean your face, brush your hair out and change into your own clothes, finally feeling like yourself again. You’re talking even when you’re already in the car, but that’s when it ends.

“Talk tomorrow, Angel?” he murmurs, now lying in his bead, propped up against the headboard without a shirt on.

“Yeah. I’ll be off around five so just call me whenever your show is over.”

“Will do. Take care, alright? And… just hang on a little longer.”

“A little?” you huff. “There are still two more months to go.”

“You can do it. Text me whenever you want to talk, alright?” You just quietly nod, ignoring the ache in your chest. You want nothing else than to crawl into bed with him, curl up against him and never leave from under the covers.

“Good night, Angel,” he smiles sweetly.

“Night, H,” you sigh before ending the call.

An hour later you are already in your hotel room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, lying in bed as you scroll through Instagram, aimlessly opening posts here and there. The explore page is always a mess, you like so many different things that Instagram sometimes can’t decide what to show you, but that’s just how you like it. Lately it’s been a lot of Harry on there, given the fact that you’ve often found yourself lurking photos of him when you were missing him more than the usual.

When a paparazzi photo comes up of him from yesterday, having lunch with Kendall Jenner you can’t help but feel the jealousy ignite a fire inside you. It’s not like you didn’t know they met up, he told you a week before it and even asked if you are cool with it, to which you said that you are not an official item and you’d never tell him not to see a friend, even if it happens to be an ex as well. After all, you were the last one to throw a stone at him since you are now working with yours, even if it’s a living Hell.

But after such a draining day, seeing him have a good time so far away from you with a woman who is not you, your opinion about the situation seems to be different.

You’ve never been that extremely jealous type and you are also very much aware that you have no right to feel this way, but… you do. Scrolling through the few paparazzi photos that has nothing odd on them, just the two of them sitting at a table on a terrace, enjoying their meal and then leaving in separate cars, you can’t help but tear them apart to the tiniest detail, your brain fixated to find the smallest thing that tell you that they have something more than friendship going on, when you also know damn well sure that there’s no such thing. Harry has talked to you openly about his friendship with Kendall, how they tried to make it work two times but both of them ended up the same way: they realized they are far better as just friends and that’s how they’ve been since then.

But because of the distance, your horrible days with Levi and your agonizing feelings about wanting to be with Harry but also not being able to, you find yourself letting out a silent cry as you close the app, but the pictures still haunt you.

Before you could even think twice, you are kneeling in front of the minibar you haven’t touched since you arrived, but now you’re determined to empty it out, paying extra attention to the alcoholic drinks.

You are well aware that it’s not how you should be coping with the situation on hand, but you don’t know what else to do. You were the one who told Harry not to make things official, there’s nothing you can do against the distance between the two of you and you are stuck with Levi for the rest of filming as well. You have no other choices but to somehow dumb the pain that’s been torturing you silently ever since you found out you got the role.

It’s nerve wrecking, because this role means so much to your career, you know it’s your big chance to be finally taken as seriously as you’ve always dreamed about, but does it worth it? If you lose yourself along the way and everything that’s been making you happy lately, does it still worth just to have an Oscar nomination, which is not even guaranteed, just a speculation.

It’s past one am when you run out of drinks, but because of the small portions, you are just buzzing, not really drunk. But it’s enough to make you lose your rationality and snatch your phone from the bed and open your text threat with Harry.

“I miss you. A lot, like a whole lot.”

You send the text before you could change your mind and for your biggest surprise the status changes to seen just a few moments later before the three little dots start dancing on the bottom.

“I miss you too, Angel. Everything alright?”

Harry knows you too well, you wouldn’t just text after you’ve talked on FaceTime before and you’re usually asleep by this time, since filming starts early in the morning usually.

“Do you really miss me?” you write back with a heavy sigh.

“You can’t even imagine how much…”

“Tell me. How much?”

“I’ve written three songs about you since we parted. Does that tell you how much I miss you?”

“Oh fuck!” you choke out, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t want to be in this hotel room anymore, damn the movie, Levi and the Oscar, you need Harry. Now.

“Can’t wait to hear them all.”

“There’ll be plenty more, Angel. Get ready for a whole album!”

The pictures with Kendall are long forgotten. Now you’re just lying in bed, rereading the texts over and over again until your eyelids get too heavy and you fall asleep, still clinging onto the device.

 ***

 After years of being an independent and strong woman you’ve always aspired to be, you find yourself only focusing on two men to keep your nerves stable enough to stop you from breaking down every other day: Oscar and Harry.

The possibility to win an Oscar is what you think of every time Levi is pulling on your nerves, working harder than the devil to make you burst while acting like a saint in front of everyone. His attempts of ruining your days every imaginable are getting worse as the time passes and when thinking about the Oscar doesn’t help, you reach out to Harry. You’ve felt terribly at the beginning when you kept calling him whenever you felt like screaming after an encounter with Levi, even apologized for it, but he made sure you know he doesn’t mind it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I’m happy I’m the one you come to for comfort. I like that you’re thinking about me,” he told you one night when you called him so late, but he still answered.

Today has been extra hard. Two weeks have passed since your little late night breakdown when you emptied your mini bar out and felt like leaving Atlanta as soon as possible. Luckily, the morning came with an ease, though the pain was still there, you just managed to bottle it up enough to make you keep going.

You’ve been on set since 4 in the morning, having shot some scenes during sunrise and you’ve been going since then. Now it’s four pm, you are desperate for a good sleep already, but you still have some hours to go before you can head back to the hotel.

It seems like Levi has made it his mission to make you cry today. His latest favorite thing has been throwing shade about fellow actors who end up being the talk of gossip sites because they’ve dared to go on a public date with another celebrity. So, just to be clear, he is shaming you for being all over the tabloids, people are still speculating about you and Harry and Levi doesn’t hesitate to call you out about that in a sugarcoated way.

All he has been saying all day is “I guess I’m just more careful about my privacy!” or “Everyone is different, but I like to be noticed for my professional success!” but your favorite was “I get it that women need more effort to stay relevant.”

You were shocked how no one else realized how sexist he was, but deep down you weren’t that surprised. Levi successfully brainwashed everyone to make them believe he didn’t think it seriously, when you know for a fact that even if it was just to piss you off, he really meant it. You were once one of those who couldn’t really see how wrong his beliefs are and now you can’t believe you used to ignore all these sexist comments, but now they make your palms itch.

“You know, you once were just like that. I still remember us being on the covers,” you snapped back at him before everyone left for lunch and it was just the two of you, but he just snorted, brushing it off.

“Hated it. Always felt like just a toy they like to throw around.”

You needed all your self-control not to laugh right into his face and then jump at his throat. Instead, you just watch him walk away and you are quick to fetch your phone from your bag to text Harry, but then you realize that he hasn’t texted you back in the past ten hours. Your last four messages are sitting not just unanswered but unread as well so you talk yourself down from sending another one. It’s odd, because he always tells you when he is about to be busy, but he didn’t this time and you wonder if you’ve said or did something that upset him with you enough to stop talking to you. But then you tell yourself that something must have just come up.

“Hey girl!” Maya calls out for you, already dressed in her own clothes since she is done for the day. “I’m heading out to lunch with Timmy, want to join? Please don’t say you’ll just order in and stay in your trailer!”

“Only if Levi is not coming,” you grumble making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s just gonna be cool people.”

You both take your car to the little diner close to set, you’ve been going there quite often, they have the best pancakes and that’s exactly what you need right now. Timmy is already there sitting at a booth, waving at you happily. Aside from Maya, he is the other person you’ve been quite enjoying spending time with on set, he is a genuine guy and helped you a lot professionally which was a huge boost along this rocky way.

All through lunch you notice that he’s been checking his phone a lot, but you don’t think much of it, he is a busy guy, that you’ve learned already. It’s nice to have some time away from set and you’re thankful that Maya and Timmy are trying their best to make you forget about Levi and that eventually you have to head back.

The three of you return to set about an hour later. When the both of them stick to your side and they keep asking if you are going back to your trailer, you start to suspect something.

“You guys alright?” you ask with a chuckle. “Where else would I go? I still have thirty minutes from my break.”

“Just making sure,” Timmy shrugs. “We’ll walk you there!”

“Yeah! Let us walk to your trailer!” Maya nods in agreement and you give them a glare.

“You guys are weird,” you mumble under your breath.

As the three of you reach your trailer you notice how excited they are acting and you are confused about what’s really happening, but it’s just until you finally throw the door of your trailer open and gasp at the person waiting inside.

“Hello, Angel,” Harry smirks at you, leaning against the wall as you completely freeze.

“Angel! Oh my God!” you hear Maya squeak behind you, but you can’t pay much attention to her or Timmy, because you are busy throwing yourself into Harry’s arm, who envelopes you into his embrace, lifting you up from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Should I not be here?” he jokes chuckling, his hands running up and down your back.

“Well, you are not supposed to, but I’m glad you are!” you chuckle and pulling back you kiss his lips, not able to hold yourself back.

“Thank your costars,” he mumbles nodding towards the door where Maya and Timmy are standing, grinning widely and proud of themselves.

“You guys did this,” you breathe out.

“Well, it was Maya’s idea, and then I was the one to message Harry,” Timmy admits, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“You surely succeeded,” you chuckle and turning back to Harry you hug him again, holding him tight as if he could vanish any moment.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Maya chuckles before shutting the door and giving you some privacy.

“So how long are you staying?” you ask, arms circled around his neck.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time. I need to fly out late tomorrow.”

“You came here for less than 48 hours?” you gasp in disbelief. He has been on the road for weeks now, all the traveling has been hard on him, that you know, yet he still went into the trouble of flying here for such a short time just to be with you.

“If Timothée didn’t reach out I would have still tried to mess around with my schedule to come here. I know how hard it has been for you here, I wanted to help you.”

“Stop or you’ll make me cry,” you chuckle, leaning in for another kiss.

You spend the rest of your break cuddled up on your tiny sofa in your trailer, talking but mostly kissing, because you’ve been missing Harry’s kisses the most probably. When it’s time to head back to set, you need everything in you not to lock the door and just never leave, but your work is calling.

Walking towards set you find yourself lacing your fingers together with Harry’s, to which he smirks at you in satisfaction. You couldn’t give less shit about that people will think the rumors are true, let them! All you want is to be as close to Harry as possible.

As everyone is slowly gathering back, you lounge around the buffet tables with Harry and Timothée, just genuinely having a good time, right until Levi walks in and he freezes upon seeing you with Harry.

At first you are convinced he’s going to come up to you, but luckily, he chooses to keep his distance this time, saving you some stress about what would go down if the two of them were to talk. Harry has definitely noticed his presence as well, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds your hand tight, kissing your knuckles.

Harry sticks around the whole afternoon, watching you film scene after scene and the excitement in his eyes is priceless. He takes every opportunity to praise your work and tell you how amazing you are doing and it means the world to you since it’s the first time Harry is seeing you working.

Through the afternoon, you can feel Levi’s burning glare on you, but you try your best to ignore it. You can tell he doesn’t like having Harry around but you haven’t figured out if it’s because he is jealous of you and him or because now Harry has all the attention he usually has. Either way, he is a petty fucker and you are enjoying pissing him off for once.

When filming finally finishes at six you are one of the first ones to head out, eager to finally be alone with Harry in your hotel room and not be disturbed for the night.

“I would say to pick up something to eat on our way, but maybe we should just order room service, how does that sound?” he asks as the two of you are walking back to your trailer.

“Room service is gonna be perfect,” you smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Y/N!”

The voice calling out your name makes you growl in annoyance. The situation is all too familiar, Levi stopping you on your way back to your trailer with the pure intention of ruin your mood.

Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath before turning around. “What?” you snap back at him, clearly annoyed that he is here again.

“Hey, just… thought I would introduce myself to your friend over here,” he smiles as if it was the most natural thing, but you and Harry stand there, completely confused about how he can act so casual about him meeting Harry.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you question.

“Just wanted to meet Harry,” he tells again. “I’m Levi, nice to meet you,” he nods smiling, holding out his hand and you can’t hold your laughter back. Luckily, Harry is quick to react the best possible way.

“Are you really just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear you call Y/N a bitch the other day?” he asks, voice stern and surprisingly calm, however his hold on your hand is a little tighter now.

Seemingly, Levi is taken aback and you can tell he was convinced Harry wouldn’t bring it up straight to his face, but he did. He definitely just did and you are so happy about that.

“I’m, uhh—I don’t think you have any business in that, Harry,” he chuckles nervously, still trying to somehow dominate in the situation, but he is failing miserably.

“Oh, but I think I do. If you think you can just go around and call women bitches, you are in the wrong and if you ever have just one bad word for Y/N again, I’ll definitely won’t be this calm.”

The cherry on the top is the warm smile on Harry’s lips and your mouth hangs open at how bad he just burnt Levi. If you were alone now, you’d definitely jump his bones right away.

Watching Levi you see the exact moment when he drops the act and before he even opens his nasty mouth, you already know you’ll get another taste of his real self.

“What, you fuck her once and think she is the Queen of England who has to be treated with special care?” he scoffs and your stomach drops. Here he goes with the insults, buckle up!

“Excuse you?” Harry snaps back, clearly losing his patience with him.

“She is not that big of a deal, Styles. Might be a good fuck, but she is a fucking bitch in reality and you’ll see that soon.”

“I think it was just you who made her act that way and that’s entirely your fault, m’ friend. Anyone would be that way if they had to deal with you.”

“You know what? You two deserve each other, two low-life, attention seeker celebs, I just don’t get what people like so much about you. Especially about you,” he adds, eyes snapping to you. Your anger is boiling, he is dancing on your very last nerve and you have no idea how long you can last.

Harry then turns to you, a calm expression on his face, but his eyes tell you otherwise as he simply takes his rings off and places them into your palm, confusing you about what he is really doing.

“I’m sorry in advance, Angel,” he mumbles before taking a step towards Levi and with a simple but graceful move, he punches your scumbag ex.

You gasp as you hear Levi’s groan, his hands flying to his face while Harry shakes his fist off with a heavy sigh.

“Oh fuck, this feels better with a glove on,” Harry breathes out, taking a step back.

“You fucker!” Levi spats as he straightens up. He moves his hand from his face, checking it to see if he is bleeding, but it’s just some redness on his cheek.

“Don’t freak out, princess. You’ll just have to sit some more in the makeup. But Swear to God if you ever speak about her that way,” Harry warns him pointing at him, “You won’t be able to fix it with some powder.”

And with that, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you into the trailer, leaving a shocked and raged out Levi outside. As soon as it’s just the two of you, Harry changes from the confident, protective man to a frightened little puppy as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The way he was talking about you and I—“

He doesn’t get to finish because our lips shut him up with the most heated and passionate kiss you two have ever shared. It’s hard and messy, your fingers thread through his hair as he grabs your waist forcefully, yanking you against her tightly.

“That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you pant against his lips.

“Yeah? So you’re not mad?”

“I’m only mad because you got to punch him before me,” you chuckle making him laugh as well.

“God, I have no idea how you could put up with him this long,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m convinced that my nerves are made out of steel,” you joke pecking his lips two more times.

“I don’t even see how you could be in a relationship with him in the first place,” he huffs.

“I was younger and dumber. Don’t worry, learned my lesson,” you laugh, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand, running your thumb along the soft skin under his eye.

“If I’m being honest, there’s one more thing that’s upsetting me about him.”

“And what is that?”

“Please don’t get mad at me though, okay?” he chuckles softly.

“Just tell me!”

“I’m mad… because he is able to say that he has been in a relationship with you and I’m not. It’s pissing me off, properly,” he admits and your heart skips a beat. “I know you said you don’t want anything official, but I just want to call you mine and—“

You cut him off for the second time now as you kiss him again, grinning against his lips. If he didn’t bring this up now, you would have for sure before he left, because there was no way you would have been able to say goodbye to him again without having all strings tied.

“Just to be sure, was this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you smirk, your hands holding onto the base of his neck.

“Kind of? Yeah,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright, cool. Now let’s go back to my hotel room, boyfriend.”

You watch as his eyes light up and leaning down he kisses you again.

“Just so we are on the same page, was this your way of saying yes?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nod, using his own words.

“Great. Okay, let’s go, girlfriend.”

PREVIOUS PART

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[hotlineslasher]

Interview With A Slasher

Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard 

A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn

AO3 link

***

When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.

And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.

Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.

So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.

“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.

Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.

A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”

It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.

Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.

“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.

Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.

His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.

“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”

“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“

“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.

You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.

He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.

You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.

“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.

“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.

You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”

His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.

“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.

You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.

Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.

You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.

“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.

A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.

“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.

“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.

He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.

You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.

Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.

The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.

You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—

You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”

You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.

Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.

[teddieh]

12 years 8 days & Counting.

(Villain!Deku x Hero!Fem!Reader)

Hiya! Here’s my piece for the lovely, beautiful @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​‘s  Citrus Dome Sever Collab. You can read the other entries here! 

Rating: E, NSFW. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex. Emotional rides. Bullying (not on behalf of the main party).

Sidenotes: No character hate! Issues within the plot are for the purposes of plot guys. The reader has a healing quirk, she can transfer wounds from others onto herself. This is also my first fully fledged fic, so I hope you guys enjoy. 🥰

Word Count: ~15k (Almost)

Thank you so much for being my Beta Reader and making my banner @katsontherun! I love it and Ily girl ;; thanks so much.

“Kacchan! W-wait! Give it back!” He cries, small voice cracking. His wide green eyes are filled with puddles of tears. “That's my notebook!” Midoriya whimpers, sitting on his knees in sage green T-shirt and forest green shorts. His freckled cheeks are stained with previous tears, moss hair a fluffy mess. There are scars and scratches on the skin of his legs, crumbs rolling up from the palm of his hands.

“Haa? As if! Stupid Deku! Shouldn’t have had it out if you didn’t want somebody to take it!” Bakugou hisses, red eyes gleaming in the summer sun. The cicada’s buzzing in the afternoon sky, colors a flushing tangerine. “Besides, if you’re really smart you wouldn’t need this stupid notebook. It's just because you’re quirkless! You think taking notes is gonna make you a hero or somethin’? It won’t!”

Your ears perk up from the swingset. Your palms wrapped around the metal of the chains, your legs swinging back and forth, air sweeping you up beneath the faded blue seat beneath you. The green haired boy and the blonde were often seen on this playground, bickering about something or other. You usually didn’t pay it that much attention, instead opting to play by yourself and the occasional other child. 

However, today’s events finally caught your ears. The blonde boy stood with his two friends, grinning brightly at the little green boy. Both boys were covered in dust, little brown specks of dirt from playing all day. The notebook the young green haired boy always carried, was held high in the hand of the blonde boy instead. His little palm was outstretched, keeping the distance between him and the other boy by sparks flying off in his palms, “If you want it back, come get it Deku!” 

You frown at that, why would that boy bully him? From what you’d seen, the green haired boy, whose name you assumed was Deku, had only ever been nice, excitedly following and playing with the other boys, even when they shoved him or made him the butt of their jokes. You frowned. This was the last strike.

You hop off of the swing, palms and knees brushing into the woodchucks. You stand up, stumble a bit for a second before you slap your hands together to get the dirt off and then wipe off your shorts and your knees. Your frown deepens. Your little heart pounding in your chest. You puff it out, eyebrows furrowed and chubby cheeks puffing up as you grab your bookbag seated at the foot of the swingset and make your way over to the boys. 

“Kacchan, really! Please! Give it back!” Deku stands, attempting to lunge forward to grab his notebook back. His fingers brush the end of the leather notebook before Bakugou shoves him back with his freehand, palm lightly sparkling and causing a brown handprint to form on his sage shirt from his quirk. Deku falls to the ground with a oof, and you, seeing it, take off in a sprint. “Hey! Buttfaces! Stop that!”

You screech, soft voice louder in pitch and slightly deeper in timbre. You try to make your voice sound more masculine to seem more intimidating and rush up to the four boys. You drop to your knees, soft palms smoothing over Deku’s shoulders as you help him sit up, “Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Deku frowns, a soft groan escaping his lips as he rubs the back of his head. His ears rang slightly, he’d bumped his head on the way down. He shuddered, “I-i think so..” He mutters and you huff and turn to glare at the blonde boy. “What the hecks your problem?!” You stand up quickly, fingers clutching the arms of your backpack. “You’re always bullying him! He ain’t never did nothin’ to you, and you still bug him! You need’a stop usin’ him like a toy or somethin’! Gimmie that notebook you fat faced rat!” 

“Rat!? You’re the only rat here you bat!” Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow and he frowns, his fingers curling around the notebook as he squares his shoulders and glares back at you. You stand your ground, stepping up into his face. Deku watches on, his eyes wide. You don’t waver, your eyes glaring into both of his. You wouldn’t let this stupid boy intimidate you. “You’re the fat faced rat! You look like a rat found blonde hair dye! Gimmie that book, it ain’t yours.” You hiss.

The two boys behind Bakugou are quiet, quite surprised that someone else was standing up to him. They look at eachother, briefly glance at Midoriya, then frown and one of them speaks. “Hey Bakugou, maybe we should go?” Bakugou’s eyebrow twitches as he glances back at his friend. “Huh?! Why would we go?! This stupid girl doesn’t scare me! If you’re scared you go, punk!” He hisses, whipping his head back to yours, so close his head almost knocks into yours. You huff hard through your nose, then reach forward to snatch the notebook from his hand. “Give it here!” You shout, and Bakugou screeches, “No!” his voice rising higher in pitch. You growl and curl your hands into fists and screech,“GIVE IT!” and lunge at him. The both of you tumble onto the ground in a mess of limbs and flailing fists. Bakugou lets out a squeal as the two of you tussle on the ground. He drops the notebook in the process and his chubby hands begin pushing back into yours. 

“Kacchan stop!” Midoriya calls, sitting up on his knees to approach the two of you, but he winces and sits back down. You, in all of your ferocity, heave another scream and use your bookbag to whack him in the face. Bakugou’s anger flails, his face red as he shoves into your chest with both his palms, the sparks in his palms going off.

You cry out, “OUCH!” body recoiling in pain. The feeling of poprocks having been popped against your skin through your shirt left a lingering soreness. Luckily, Bakugou’s quirk was still weak for a young boy new to his quirk, so it only felt like something really hot had popped against you. You hiss, rubbing your side. Your knees scraped up from the tussle. You lift up the bottom of your t-shirt to see a slight bruise had formed where bakugou had shoved you and activated his quirk.

His eyes widen for a second, and everything goes quiet. All four boys stare at you in silence, Midoriya’s eyes wide. Bakugou’s too, though even at a young age his pride overpowered his personality. “Y..You shouldn’t have hit me, bat face!” He whines out, though the air stood still as you looked at yourself. Time passes in a beat before a name is called, “Akira!” “Shoot!” One of the boys behind Bakugou gives a full body shudder as he looks back to see his mother standing at the entrance of the park. He swallows and then looks at Bakugou and the other boy. “We’ve gotta go, c’mon Bakugou!” Both young boys try to tug Bakugou up by his arms but Bakugou shoves them off. “I don’t need your stupid help! I can get up by myself.” He grunts, sliding himself up to his knees and standing up before he brushes himself off. “Idiots.” He huffs, taking one last glance back at you and Midorya before he stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks off with the other two boys.

You take a deep breath, huffing and letting yourself calm down after the other boys leave. You shake your head as you reach over to grab the wrinkly skinned leather notebook. You gently brush it off, blowing on it to remove the dust and dirt before you turn around to see the green haired boy sitting behind you, his eyebrows furrowed. He looks dazed at you for a moment, big green eyes staring at you spacily before he shakes his head and blinks. 

“Hey! You okay?” You ask, crawling carefully on your knees to sit in front of the green haired boy. “He pushed you good. I’m sorry. Here’s your notebook.” You say, handing him the leather notebook. He looks up to you, then at his notebook. He reaches down to take the notebook, his fingers brushing yours and he shivers. You’re so soft..and so cool! You stood.. 

“You stood up to Kacchan!” He calls out, bright green eyes looking up at you excitedly. His freckled cheeks flushed pink. “You’re so cool! And you even fought him! Wow! And you withstood his quirk! That's so awesome! And you swung your bag from your left hand and even got precise aim even though you’re right handed!” Midoriya continues to gush to you, his hands curled into fists and his little body bouncing lightly. 

Your eyes widen, and you giggle and hold your hands up. “Wait wait! How’d you know I’m right handed?” Midoriya blinked and then nodded. “Oh!” He puts a finger to his lips. “Because you asked for my notebook and held out your right hand when you did it!” You blinked at him, and a bright smile crossed your face. “Wow! You noticed that? I didn’t even know I did it! That's so cool!” You gush back, small body brimming in excitement. Your eyes roam over his form before you spot the dragged oval of red on the ground. You gasp. “Hey! Are ya hurt? Lemme see.” You say, reaching up with your slightly scratched palms to take his soft chubby cheeks. You turn his head this way and that to examine his face. You then take his arms and examine his hands, noticing the light scratches, the crumbles of skin on his palm. You huff at him, eyebrows furrowing as you gently pat his knee. “Let me see.” Midoriya, blinking and confused from all the sudden flurry of your hands, shifts back, letting out a slight hiss as he exposes his bare legs to you. On his right leg is a cut, reaching from his knee to a bit down his leg. Blood covered, weeping from the wound. You gasp. “This is no good! Come here!” you exclaim, then reach forward to gently take his hands. You take a deep breath, rubbing your thumbs over the back of his palms. Midoriya furrows his eyebrows. “What’re you doing? Is that your quirk?” He asks, his head giving a little tilt, curls bouncing as he looks down at your connected palms. He watches you close your eyes. He goes to get closer, scooting up slightly and about to ask another question before he feels a warmth slide up his palms. “Woah—” The warmth travels up from his palms, a soft tingle traveling up to his chest and flooding through his entire body. He shudders and feels his muscles relax at the warmth, like a gentle ray of sunlight beaming down on him. “Woah..” Midoriya mutters, the scratches and scrapes he’d received warmed just a bit hotter than the rest of him, but he watched as the wound on his knee began to seal itself up. His eyes widen in amazement, eyes sparkling with wonder. A moment later, you gently drop his hands and smile at him. “There! All better!” You grin, slapping your thighs before wincing. You turn your palms face up, and on them are additional scratches in the same places that Midoriya’s had been on his hands. Midoriya looks up and notices. 

“Wow..Your quirk is healing?! That's so cool! Wait but that means..” He looks down quickly, catching sight of the blood drop dripping down from your knee. “Oh no! I’m sorry! Your quirk is like a healing transfer?! That's amazing! Can you tell me more? When’d you get it?! Can you heal broken bones? Does it work on bruises? What about internal cuts?” 

You giggle and wave your hands, “Wait wait! I don’t even know your name! I don’t tell people who aren’t my friends about my quirk.” You nod, sticking your tongue out. “So tell me your name first! Is it Deku?” Midoriya blinks rapidly for a moment before he straightens up and giggles, reaching behind him to scratch the back of his head gently. “Ah..! No! My name is Midoriya! Midoriya Izuku! It’s nice to meet you! I hope we can be good friends from now on!” 

You laugh, nodding your head and smile. “Nice to meet you too Dori!” You exclaim, introducing yourself back and bracing yourself for a wonderful future friendship.

…. 

It’d been years since you’d been back in Musutafu, Japan. You’d moved away the year before highschool, spending your last year with your best friend Izuku before you’d left. You’d exchanged distance bracelets. You took the white one, and he’d taken the black one, so even if the two of you were far apart, you’d always be together. Though over the years, the two of you lost touch. You’d gotten busy in your hero courses and Izuku, from what you’d heard last, had been enrolled into UA, but only in the general course. You’d lost touch after that. 

You’d been back for a few months now, and hadn’t seen or heard from him yet. Though you were also extraordinarily busy as a support hero, using your quirk to heal civilians and heroes alike, and the occasional thief if they got injured. Only thing was, it was getting lonely.

You were underappreciated. Demand after demand. “Heal me.”  

“It takes how fucking long? I’ve got a press conference in an hour. Can’t you speed it up?” 

“Hey sweet cheeks, how about after you finish holding my hand you hold something a little heavier, huh?” 

You’ve had to swat various hands away. Heroes rarely thanked you. People were upset you weren’t working fast enough, or their wounds aren't healing quickly, or they couldn’t sit still. Heroes especially. So often the heroes didn’t consider support heroes ‘real heroes’ because they weren’t directly interacting with the villains. Do this, do that. Stay out of this, your opinion doesn’t matter here. Run to that side of town, heal those three people and me. 

You had been rolled out on a stretcher several times overdoing it to make sure others were okay, and the boss’ and pro-hero’s still had the audacity to ask you to take their wounds from their own recklessness while you were bruised and in your hospital bed. It could be a bitter job, but there was nothing better than holding the hands of a child while you took away a broken ankle, and seeing the wonder and happiness in their eyes as they thanked you and sent you drawings in the mail. They always reminded you what being a hero was about. Helping others, working for the greater good.

Like now, as you sprint up to a shooting scene outside of a bank. You’d been called to the scene, with only the knowledge that a few people had been hurt, but given no specifics. “Anybody in immediate danger? Need healing that I can do?” You ask as you walk up to one of the paramedics, a cop car parked out front and a hero you don’t recognize talking to one of them. A few people are scattered outside of the bank, some being interviewed, some smoking and shaking.  The paramedic smiles. “Ah! Thank heavens you’re here! Yes! Over there,” the paramedic points with his clipboard to the green haired man nursing an ice pack with a torn t-shirt torn around his thigh. 

“It’s a shame. With all of the attacks going on around the city lately we’ve been having to improvise with materials today. We should be getting a large haul in again soon, that's the rumor anyway.” The paramedic tutts, shaking his head gently as he goes to check on the shaking woman and lead her to sit on the edge of the van for a check up. You sigh. You came back to the city because of the recent rise in attacks from gangs believed to be associated with the LOV, despite the lack of quirks seemingly used in the attacks. It’d been things from bombings to shootings to robberies, like the current one. You hurry your way over to the green haired man, eyes scanning over his form. He seemed more on the lithe side, but still broad enough to have some light bulk on his thighs and some broadness to his shoulders. In fact, his body shape reminded you of one of the guys from a kpop group you’d heard about, BM, from the group KARD. 

“Hi,” you say as you approach the man and smile. “I’m here to help, can I see your woun…” your words fall off as the green haired man lifts his head. His right hand was holding an ice pack to the back of his curly head, but those emerald green eyes and those freckles dusting over the cream of his cheeks caught you off guard. Was that..”Zuzu..?” 

You call, voice quiet and almost hesitant. Your feet stop in front of him, standing almost toe to toe. Midoriya’s eyes widen as he realizes it was you, his old friend. Looking as beautiful as he remembered; figure and curves more defined, more mature. He swallows, and your eyes are drawn to the pronounced Adam's apple that bobs when he does. He’s beautiful, and you realize just how much you missed him. He’s grown. He’s currently sporting a pair of black dress pants, a  and a white dress shirt with the few buttons open, exposing his collarbones. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing his forearms, light green hair wisped on his skin. The dress shirt hugs the defined muscles of his arms, a pair of fitted black gloves covering his hands. Behind him is a tan colored overcoat with dark brown buttons. He mutters your name softly before he gasps.

“It's really you! I heard you were back but I-I wasn’t sure.” He says, quickly moving to stand before he hisses, the sound shudders you to your core. His voice is much deeper, an even timbre. He grunts as he sits down, the sound trailing off and you swallow. His curls bounce as he bites his plump bottom lip and closes his eyes. You watch his chest rise for a second before you shake yourself out of your trance. “Zuzu!” You call, lurching forward and wrapping your arms around him. The man stiffens for a moment and you feel the muscles of his chest  jump against your hero suit in response before two strong arms slide in around your waist and tug you in closer. His face pressed against your shoulder and you press your face into his. “I’ve missed you so much..!” You coo, arms sliding under his to hold him closer. You stand with your legs outside of his thighs and squeeze him. He grunts, the sound a deep timbre from his chest as he squeezes you back. 

“I’ve missed you too..” He mutters, nuzzling your shoulder. You inhale, the familiar comfort of his scent, fresh linen and the new and mature scent of alpine suede filling your lungs and you realize just how much you missed him. His soft curls brushing against your neck as he holds you. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his broad palm stroking up and down the length of your back. You know you’ve got to step away. You have people to tend to, him being one of them but it feels so good in his arms. He feels so warm, solid, safe. He reminds you of home.

You shift and your leg bumps his thigh and he jumps slightly. You remember then, and begin pulling back from the hug. Midoriya respects it, letting his arms fall away, though his hands come around to grasp your hands instead as he gazes up at you. His eyes sparkle lightly. “It’s been too long.” He whispers, and you nod and hold his hands a bit tighter before you hear the paramedic call your hero name. “We’ve got another injured person over here! They broke their arm! Do you think you could help when you’re done over there?” You blink, turn your head over your shoulder. “Yes, sorry! One moment!” You call back, though your fingers squeeze Midoriya’s, and he squeezes back before gently tugging your hands. You turn your gaze back to him. He speaks before you can.

“Hey, after this? Since you’re busy— How about we exchange numbers? I changed phones and..well, I’d love to catch up again. Dinner, maybe?” He asks, that soft smile curving along his lips. The one left eyebrow furrowing slightly as he awaits your response. You swallow and nod. “Yeah- yeah! Of course. We’ve got so much catching up to do.” You agree, sending the warmth through your hands and up his arms, shuddering as you feel the bullet wound, empty of the bullet, forming on your own thigh. You bite your bottom lip, semi-desensitized to the pain now as the fabric of your suit begins to soak with blood. Once you’ve taken the wound, with a shuddered breath, you tell Midoriya your number and go off to help another civilian, the date in the back of your mind. 

…

You swallow, sitting in the backseat of the Dodge Charger that Midoriya had sent to pick you up. Over the past week the two of you had excitedly texted every single night when you had a chance to. You missed him so much. Catching up, you’d learned that Midoriya had started his own private quirk analytics company where they researched quirks and ways to better improve them. They worked both for civilians and for heroes on finding ways to more effectively utilize their quirks and test the limits of what they could really do. Midoriya had apparently done well for himself, and while he didn’t become the hero he wanted, he said he was glad to support good people doing what he was. He made quite a bit of money too. 

Midoriya also didn’t seem too interested in the hero world when you spoke, which you thought had been weird. His obsession over All Might seemed to be almost nonexistent now, but he was just as attentive to your world as always. What had you been up to? How were the studies, had your quirk improved? How were you? Where do you stay? How are the heroes treating you and what's it like? Were you moving back for good? Was your favorite movie still some silly cartoon or had your tastes changed? Was your favorite icecream still the same? Your favorite breakfast drink? His appreciation for you as a person and your quirk hadn’t changed. You’d missed him and his cute ramblings, his favorite food, Katsudon, hadn’t changed. While more mature, more refined, and less of the soft hearted mess from your childhood, he was still just as sweet, (with some added flirt, you’d noted) as he used to be. 

“Miss?” you blink, lifting your head to gaze up and see the passenger door open, the driver holding the door open and bent slightly as he gently gestures his hand out. “We’re here. This is the Midoriya residence. He’s expecting you, so please just walk up to the door and ring the buzzer.” You nod and step out of the car, bowing slightly to the man, “Ah, right, thank you. Here..” you mutter, going to dig into your purse to give a tip, however the man shakes his head and places a gloved hand on your arm. “Thank you, but no thank you, Ma’am. Mr. Midoriya pays me well, and extra. Have a good evening.” He says, tipping his hat to you before he rounds the car and reenters.

You blink back at him and then watch his car pull away before you give a detailed look around. You lift your head and let your gaze wonder. You're surrounded by trees and woodland. While there are other houses around, they’re at least a block or so down the road as the properties span. You gaze up at the modest modern home, walking up the gravel walkway and past the red car parked in the driveway up to the front steps of the house and ring the buzzer. From inside you can hear the soft thrumming of a guitar, along with what sounds like an echo of tap shoes and snapping on beat. A piano base. A baritone voice smoothing out in high and lower notes. 

A moment later the door swings open and there stands Midoriya in all of his grown glory. He sports a pair of dark blue bluejeans with a white t-shirt, a dark blue cardigan thrown over it. He grins as soon as he sees you and you can’t help but grin back. “You look great!” Midoriya exclaims, rushing forward. You laugh and throw your arms around his neck as he tosses his arms around your midsection, spins around with you, and buries his face into your shoulder for the hug. You laugh, nestling into his neck. “Thanks! You look great too!” You comment, squeezing the green haired boy back. You only part when he does, and he takes your hand and gently begins tugging you inside as he steps backward and past the threshold. 

“Come come! Let me give you a tour.” You laugh and follow him inside, taking off your boots at the door and holding Midoriya’s hand as he leads you around the house. Showing you everything from the sunroom, the living room, to the bathroom and the study. Once inside, you realize the song playing, too, is Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier. The upbeat sound vibrates the house lightly and you can feel it pulsing in the floors beneath your socked feet. 

After the tour, Midoriya leads you into the kitchen where the sweet scent of the tonkatsu sauce and honey glazed carrots had been haunting you. Midoriya had remembered your love for glazed carrots, and cooked you some. He’d also made tonkatsu, miso soup, tsukemono, and rice. You hum, stomach grumbling at the smell. The two of you made plates and sat down in his dining room together, across from one another. You’d pulled a bottle of sake out from your purse and wiggled your eyebrows, and Midoriya had given a full bodied laugh as he grabbed the glasses from the cabinet. 

A few glasses of sake later, the both of you are looser and as comfortable as the two of you were before you left. You laugh, “Yeah! I’m telling you! Some of these heroes man..” you shake your head, swirling your fingertip around the glass you’d been sipping from. Your plate is empty, just as Midoryia’s is. He picks up his glass, swirling the clear liquid lightly. “Yeah, and how's everything going with all of the crime? Rates are rising, aren’t they? Heroes aren’t doing enough to stop it. Pity.” He takes another swig of his drink. He’s leaning back in his chair, an arm tossed over the back of it. His legs are spread and he looks relaxed. 

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, I kinda disagree with ya there. I think they’re doin’ somethin’. It's just.. something’s gotta be going on. We’ve never had this much crime here before, have we? And a lot of it isn’t even quirk related incidents. Petty thefts, robberies, or big things like bombings. We’re literally finding bombs, Zuzu. Bombs. Not quirk related fire incidents. No. They catch a few low-level thugs and they say they work for the League of Villains. It's crazy. It doesn’t make sense. And the bombs—They’re man made too. Not like a quirk—not like something Creati would make. They’re too specific.” you frown, furrowing your eyebrows as you look down into your glass, your puzzled face staring back at you.

Midoriya laughs, “Yeah, well. Real heroes would’ve figured it out by now, right? What's old All Might doing? He claims to be the symbol of peace but what kind of symbol can’t stop a bomb even with enough of a head start?” He huffs, taking another sip.

“Well I don’t think it was his fault, honestly. Plus, Zuku. When’d you get so..pessimistic? You used to look up to All Might when we were little. You practically worshipped the guy. We wore matching onesies and watched his movies until one in the morning.” You frown lightly as you look up at him. He’d always had faith in heroes and the good of society. He’d always wanted to be a hero. What happened?

Midoriya laughs, a husky sound that goes straight to your core. You swallow. When did his voice get so..smooth? “Ever since they gave up on everyone else. Heroes think they’re so high and mighty— Like they’re gods or mythical. They aren’t. Having a quirk doesn’t make you better than the rest of us. Having a quirk only makes you an exquisite piece of shit.” He huffs, and you blink, eyes widened and taken aback. A slight pain in your heart from his words. He’d never thought like that before. 

“Izuku.” You frown lightly. “Thats..Wow.” you scratch the back of your head with a frown. “Not all people with quirks are dicks. Bakugou was a dick. Endeavor can be a dick. Phantom Thief is a pompous ass until you kick him in the ass... But you’ve got great heroes like Red Riot, Uravity, hell, you’ve got a lot of great heroes out there and a lot of good people with quirks. I always felt like you could be a hero with or without a quirk, and it's the heart and the tools you acquire that can help you be one, you know?” You shrug your shoulders gently. While you knew Midoriya’s words weren’t directed at you, you couldn’t help but feel just a bit hurt by them.

Midoriya shakes his head. “Yeah and look where that's got us? Heroes are nothing but a stain on this world. More crime comes about because of the way heroes treat the rest of society. Because they’ve got all this power, because they listen to the wrong people and think they’re deities. You,” Midoriya gestures towards you. “You talk about how they treat you. You’re hurt and they couldn’t care less, they demand more and more of you. What use is a hero if all they do is use people? They’re not helping people by not thinking of them, by treating anyone who isn’t like them like dirt.” Midoriya practically spits and you sit up straighter.

“Izuku I’m a hero too, you know. And yeah sometimes they treat me like dirt but not all of them do. They’re not all bad people and they don’t all think anyone without a quirk is—”

“Yeah, you don’t but you're the damn minority!” He leans forward towards the table, his arms slamming down heavy and the silverware jumps and tings at the sound. You jump slightly. You’d never seen Midoriya angry, and you furrow your eyebrows. “The rest of these heroes don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves and their goddamn egos. They get warnings about where bombs or shootings take place and they won’t even show up to the scene! What the hell does that tell you, sweetheart?” His eyes are a darker shade of green and the freckles on his cheeks are more pronounced beneath the red hue from the alcohol and the increasingly heating discussion. 

“Izuku, they—” You blink. Wait. How did Izuku know that the heroes had been given warnings about the attacks? That news hadn’t been released to the press. In fact, because the heroes were never sure if the warnings and threats were real, since they’d gotten an influx of them, they hadn’t told anyone. It was something kept strictly between the higher ups in the departments. “...How, how did’ya know that the heroes got a warning..?” You blink, and watch as Midoriya’s jaw sets. He lets out a frustrated huff and his chest exhales in response. He leans back in his seat, feet replanting. He turns his head away from you, lifting one of his hands to push through the thick tuft of his curls. He tilts his head back and sighs as he drops his hand, blowing up and the breath moves the bangs on his forehead.

“I know you’re not stupid, Love. And neither am I, for that matter.” He shakes his head, eyes peering over at you. The gaze he pierces you with sends a shiver down your spine and you swallow. The only other people who should know about the notes would be the people who wrote them. Majority of the recent attacks have seemed organized, planned, and handmade. None of them involved quirks, and yet.. “Izuku..Were.. Were you..” You shudder. Fear creeps it cold wet hand up the back of your neck and you furrow your eyebrows. What happened to your sweet, bright eyed, bright smiled Izuku? The boy who believed anyone could be a hero. The boy who believed All Might was the symbol of justice and peace? “Bingo, Love. You don’t have to finish the sentence to get it right. This is my home—before you start thinking otherwise. It's also a safehouse though. I was hoping—. I figured you’d find out sooner or later. I wanted to convince you to join us, while I had the chance. Want to convince you of our cause, my reasoning for joining the League. But- I swear. You’ve seen first hand why heroes are a menace to society.” He says, straightening up in his seat. “You’ve seen the damage they’ve caused. Todoroki—ah. As you know him, Shoto, grew up with a hero father who was abusive. Bakugou has been an ass since the first moment you met him. People become heroes too easily these days without even taking into account what a hero is supposed to be! They flaunt themselves all over the television, all over the magazines and half of these heroes are cowards, trembling in alleyways and yet have the audacity to spit on quirkless people like me. Do you know what that does to someone? To feel devalued, dehumanized because you weren’t born with a quirk?” Midoriya hisses and shakes his head.

Your frown deepens as you listen to Midoriya talk. You shake your head and a disbelieving smile crosses your lips. “Not everyones like—”

“Yeah? Uravity became a hero for money. Imperium under the idea of being like his brother. Carrying a family name the only reason to become a hero? That's blasphemous! Uwabami is more concerned with her fanbase and following than actually saving anyone! This hero world’s turned to goddamn shit and I intend to help better it. Get rid of the unworthy heroes. A society who worships heroes is a society of the hypocritical. They are not invincible. I want to prove that. I want to show the world that heroes are flawed.” Midoriya’s shifts in his seat and pushes his plating aside and reaches across the table for you. “You get me, you understand it. Right? You’re living in the heart of it.” 

You admit, Midoriya has made valid points but in the grand scheme of things heroes are there to help. It's hard to become a hero, through training and licensure. The emotional labor of it all, the pain of not being able to save everyone and the guilt for taking breaks. You shake your head. “Zuku—, no! That's wrong. C’mon, think about it.” You find your voice rising, in your throat rising the cries of everyone you couldn’t make it in time to save, everyone you’d seen sobbing for their loved ones, everyone you’d helped and carried on your back to hospitals, limping with their broken legs and burns. “Heroes can’t be there all the time, they’re trying their best! You’ve got to understand that it's not that easy. What even happened to you? You were never like this! You saw All Might and saw hope, you saw change.” You shake your head hard as you slap the table, adrenaline flowing through you. “What happened to you!?” “You left me! That's what happened!” Midoriya yells back, standing so quickly his chair scrapes and crashes to the floor. His voice raising, voice breaking lightly. “You left me! You were the best thing that happened to me! You gave me hope that—me!” Midoriya slaps his chest. “Me! Someone quirkless like me could be a hero! You always believed in me. You stood up for me. You were there for me. You went on morning runs and you did sit ups with me. You told me that I could be a hero and then you left. Right before highschool— you left.” He shook his head, tears pooling in his eyes. 

Your heart stops at his words, and you can hear the pain in his voice as it croaks in his words. Raw, throaty. Real. “After you left, Bakugou got scooped up by a monster and I ran in to save him! I helped him get out and then I met All Might after. I didn’t have you here anymore, and I knew it would be hard without you. You were my boulder. You believed in me when nobody else did and I hoped—I hoped that All Might could see in me what you saw in me! So I asked him. I asked him, I goddamned asked him if I could be a hero without a quirk and he told me no.” 

Midoriya shook his head and paced for a moment, his arms crossing over his chest. His leg begins to shake slightly as he shakes his head. “Goddamnit, he told me no! He told me you can only be a hero in this world with a quirk and people like me should stay out of it. Find something else to do. Dove, you know all I ever wanted was to be a hero and he tells me that I’m worthless! That I can’t. And he proved it when they wouldn’t let me into the hero class. I did everything! I trained, I gained mass and weight, I got stronger, faster, and I still wasn’t good enough! I got beat by a kid who throws grapes off of his head! Grapes!” Midoriya throws his hands up and then slams them on the table. You jump, and you feel something wet and warm slide down your nose, dripping onto your lip. You reach up to rub a hand there, and realize you’d started crying.

You knew you leaving had an effect on Midoriya, but you hadn’t realized how strong of a presence in his life you were. You swallow, the lump in your throat making it hard. Your heart aches. You remembered when you left. The day you did, how you’d held Midoriya’s hand so tight, shared your first kiss, and promised that the two of you would never grow apart. And then school got in the way, and you made new friends, and from his messages, so did he. And slowly, your letters just grew smaller and more distant, falling off into a silence that was never picked back up. You’d moved again and hadn’t heard from each other again. “Izuku..I didn’t want to leave you but—I had to. My ma and pa got back together and we’d moved—you knew..” 

Midoriya shakes his head. “I’m not—I’m not blaming you but dammit I missed you! The letters just stopped and you seemed so happy and who the hell was I to ruin your happiness? I wasn’t going to be like All Might. I wasn’t going to be the villain. When I finally got my own phone, I tried calling your old number and it was disconnected.” Midoriya’s voice breaks as he speaks, and he curls his hands into fists. 

“Years go by! We hadn’t seen each other in forever and I was stuck in the past, fiddling with this old bracelet,” Midoriya’s fingers graze over the black beads around his wrist, the distance bracelet complimenting the white one you were wearing. “and hoping that I’d see you again one day. I got angry. I’d hear how the hero course kids talked, how they’d treat us gen ed kids.” 

“Monoma would get into our faces and brag. Bakugou would shove me into lockers, ‘Don’t have your little girlfriend anymore, huh, Deku?’ I couldn’t—, Someone like him, becoming a hero? What world lets someone like that become a hero?!” You find yourself standing up, heart aching for the best friend you’d left behind, for the scared and lonely boy who’d had his hopes crushed and his dreams shattered like a million starlights. You cross the room to him, hips gliding around the table as you come to stand in front of him.

“Izuku..I’m so sorry..I didn’t—I missed you too. I just—I figured you were happier too..” you mutter, hands coming up to rest on his cheeks, your palms wet with his tears as you gently swipe beneath his eyes. He leans his cheek into your hand and reaches up, his warm soft hands cupping over yours to hold them in place. His glossy emerald eyes gaze into yours.

“No. But I became happier. I found the rest of my starlings. We’re going to make the world a better place, and you can be a part of that. The heroes have treated you like shit. They’ve demanded more and more from you and never asked how you were. When was the last time you had a break? When was the last time one of them thanked you, Love? When was the last time anyone cared for you? Held you when you cried, squeezed your hand when you were in pain?” 

Your heart clenches at his words and you furrow your eyebrows. You weren’t—. No. The heroes didn’t..Not all of them were bad people, not all of them didn’t care. Midoriya’s head turns, brushing his soft lips against your inner palm. You shiver, gaze snapping back up to his as he mutters into your palm. 

“..It’s been 12 years, 3 months, 8 days, 4 hours, 22 minutes, 6, 7..8 seconds and they keep counting. I’ve missed you every day you’ve been gone. I just want to be with you again. I’d never treat you like those heroes do. We’d never treat you like that, Love. We’d appreciate you. We’d care. I care. I won’t make you suffer through weeks of healing just to get over cuts and bruises. I won’t scream at you when you’re tired and sore and limping from other wounds. You and me, together.” Midoriya’s hands slide up the length of your arms to cup your cheeks, tilting your head to look into his eyes as he swallows.

“The two of us, we could show the world what heroes are really like. What vile creatures they are, dream crushers. Heartbreakers. Selfish, egotistical sociopaths. We can show them, you and me, and we don't have to hurt anyone in the process. The buildings, the symbols are the most important. The league carries out all of the plans. All we’d do is make them. The brains behind the bronze. You’ll never get treated like a fleshlight for wounds again, sweetheart. I’ll be good to you..” Midoriya’s thumb strokes over your cheekbone. His eyes trailing from yours to your lips and you swallow. You feel the weight of his palm beneath your jaw as you do. You furrow your eyebrows. 

You think of the heroes who toss out the drawings kids have done for them, or the thank you letters. You think of the heroes who are reckless and disregard for safety because ‘Ah! It's no big deal. You can heal it anyway right? Hurry it up then!’ You think of all the heroes who’ve told you that your voice doesn't matter. You think of the heroes who joke about quirkless people being inferior, of yanking innocent people off the street and expecting compensation for savior. And yet, you think about all of the heroes who take concrete to the back to protect people. You think of the heroes who’ve lost their hearing, or their sense of touch to save others. You think of the heroes—

Midoriya sees the scrunching of your eyebrows, the way your nose scrunches, the way your lips tremble and he knows he’s pushed you far, and as soon as your shoulders begin to hunch and you begin to cry Midoriya is shushing you and gently kissing your tears away, whispering affirmations of love and care. 

“..Z-zuzu I..” Midoriya shushes you, shaking his head and through your bleary eyes you glance up at him, sniffling as your eyes trail from his eyes to his lips. His cotton linen, his scent draws you in to comfort and you sniffle as you slide your arms around his torso and press our face into his shoulder. He hums, sliding his arms back around you and pressing his face into your hair, inhaling gently and shuddering at the warmth of your body against his own. 

“..I missed you so much— Even..Even if you don’t join me—Spend..Spend this night with me, love? Let me treat you right, at least once. Let me love you the way I’ve longed to. Let me thank you for being the only hero I could ever trust and look up to.” He mutters, lips pressed lightly against your temple as he speaks. You lift your head slowly to look up into his eyes. The emerald gems sparkling lightly, still glossy and red from his own previous tears. The freckles across his cheeks like constellations. Your eyes fall to his lips, and all the feelings you’d had before you left, all the love and care and affection for him came rushing back: late night talking and interlaced fingers, the cooking together and laughter, the spilling tears together and finishing each other's sentences. You nod your head and tilt your head in his direction.

Midoriya’s breath hitches for a moment, and you feel the sharp inhale of breath against your lips before his soft plush lips come in contact with your own. At first, a gentle brush. Plush skin gently gliding over soft skin. The next, a more firm kiss. The following even firmer before your lips are connecting more passionately, lips moving against one another. You whine into the kiss, gently relaxing into his arms and Midoriya grunts as you lean the rest of your bodyweight into him. His arms slide around your waist comfortably, pressing himself further up against you to allow the kiss to deepen, lips gliding along each other.

The butterflies in your stomach weaved together into a big one, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears, just from the simple kiss. Your cheeks heat in response and you let one hand slide up the back of Midoriya’s neck and gently into the hair at the base of his neck. Midoryia’s entire body shudders against you at the touch, his hips tilting forward to press up against your legging clothed ones in reply. You coo.

To be kissing him again, to have that same sunrise igniting in your heart as before was a blessing. Midoroya's hands slide up from your waist to gently caress your sides, before he grasps your hips gently, his tongue gently prodding against your lips. You hum, parting your lips to allow his tongue entry and meet his with your own, gently grinding the muscles together before the two of you break the kiss with a lightly wet smack.

Both of your chests rise and fall heavily from the effort of the kiss, and Midoriya rests his forehead against your own, "Bedroom?" He asks. You nod and press your lips back to his and close your eyes. Midoriya moans into the kiss, stumbling backwards and feeling along the wall to find his way to his room, his lips moving back eagerly against yours as he does. Both of your feets shuffling as you struggle with a desire boiling deep within your bones.

Once the two of you stumble back into his doorway, he kicks the door shut with his foot. He gently breaks the kiss with you to begin shrugging off his blue cardigan. Your eyes flutter open, watching the muscles strain lightly as he tugs the material off and tosses it into his chair. You blink at him for a moment before you follow his action, tugging the sweater you'd worn up and over your head, leaving you in the plaid pop button shirt you'd worn underneath. Midoriya gives an appreciative hum as he gestures for you to get into the bed. You do, tugging your socks off as you go.

Midoriya laughs, "Dinosaur socks? How cute." He speaks, hovering close to you as he begins tugging his own socks off before he moves forward, pecking at your lips and causing you to giggle and stroke your hand up across his forehead to push back his bangs. You smile, "Says Mr. bunny boxers? Oh yeah, I didn't forget." You smirk and the tip of Midoriya's ears turn red as he presses his face into your shoulder and whines, his hands sliding up to gently grip your arms.

 "Aaah, I was a kid then! I've grown up. I’ve got hare boxer briefs now." He lifts his head to give you a soft smug smirk and you can't help the snort of laughter that escapes you as Midoriya moves to hover over you, one knee kneeling between your thighs and the other on the bed. You smile, sliding your palms up to cup his cheeks in your hands. He reaches one palm up to hold yours and nuzzles it. You laugh. "And that proves absolutely nothing, you know. Except that you’re a bunny boy with more refined tastes.” 

Midoriya’s eyes darken, he turns his head towards your palm and gives it a gentle nip. “More refined indeed,” he hums, the vibration rocks his entire body and straight into yours trapped beneath it. He kisses lightly at your palm, soft lips brushing up the length of your wrists before he settles his weight better between your legs and leans down to press his lips against yours once more before pulling back to gaze into your eyes. His emerald eyes had molded into pine. He licks his lips and lets his eyes gently flick over your face.

You shudder, and the way his gaze fits on you sends heat down to your core. You swallow. All he’d done is look at you and you could feel your heartbeat in your clit. You shift, Knees slightly bowing in and Midoriya’s hand comes up to gently rest on one of your knees, palm gently caressing it, the same one you’d absorbed the scar as a child. “I’ll take care of you this time, little Dove. I’ve got you..” You believe him.

His lips press against yours again, and your entire body vibes with it. Your palms sliding up and over the broadness of his shoulders and gently down his back as your lips collide. Then his lips are moving, down, down..Soft plush lips planting kisses down the side of your lips, the line of your jaw, the length of your neck and your bodies falling backwards once again, your head nestled into the soft silky sheets beneath you. Midoriya’s face pressed against your neck, the heat of his body caging you against the bed. The weight of him, as his hips press down into yours and you can feel the warmth emitting from the apex of his thighs, pressing firm against your own clothed one and your breath hitches. You tense your thigh and Midoriya groans above you, the sound a vibration against your neck as he parts his lips to speak against you.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Love. I knew you were back when all the magnolias in my garden started blooming bright again.” He mumbles into your skin, a poetic still true to his heart. You’d read some of his work as a child, and had always gushed at how good he was. “Orchids budded back in my chest when I saw you at that bank. I’ve missed you..” He punctuates every few words with a kiss, and you shudder beneath him, core tightening and rolling beneath his form and your thighs lightly tightening against his own and he hums appreciatively. “So beautiful..Can I take this off?” He asks, propping himself up on one elbow while the other hand trails the length of your side, over the soft curve of your breasts and down your stomach.  “Yeah, yeah.” You mutter and Midoriya grins against your neck, shifting to sit up and back. He moves his thigh out from between both of yours to straddle you gently instead and sits back on his legs. “Leggings too?” He gazes up at you through slightly hooded eyes, letting his palms trail down the length of your body, your shirt ruffled, so his fingertips can slip beneath the bottom of your shirt. Fingerpad dancing along your waistline. “Yeah,” you reply, but smile up at him. “But your shirt goes first. And these pants.” You coo, hands rising to gently trail up the jeaned material of his thigh. You see his chest rise with the sharp inhale, and he nods. “Yeah—yeah. Anything and everything for you, sweetheart.” He cooes, lifting one of your hands to kiss your palm again before he’s lifting back from you.

You gaze up at him, breath heavier and chest rising and falling with effort for each one. You wet your lips, eyes flicking over his fitted form above you. He wastes no time in tugging the shirt up and over his head. He’s matured over the years. Body mostly lithe but not small framed, muscles defined and toned. The cream color of his skin, his chest riddled with the same freckles as his cheeks and cheekbones. You hum in appreciation, letting your palms glide up and down his thighs.

Midoriya laughs, shaking his head as he reaches down. The tendons in his hands moving lightly as he unbuckles his belt, it makes a soft clinking noise as he lets the flaps hang open and down and he crawls back from the bed to pull it off. His gaze never leaves your face as he undoes his zipper, the soft zip sounding through the air before he hooks his thumbs into the sides of them and tugs them down. Beneath are a pair of dark green boxer briefs, hugging his thighs and pressing the thickness of a bulge against his thigh. He laughs as he kicks off his jeans, standing with his arms spread out. “Well, how do I look, sweetheart?” He asks, turning so his back faces you. The defined muscles of his back in clear view, along with the little beauty mark up by his upper right shoulder. The soft curve of his tight, bubbled ass is pronounced in his boxer briefs too. The material hugging and defining the cheeks. As he turns to stand back in front of you, he grins. 

You shudder in appreciation. Sitting up to watch the movements. Your eyes trail the length of him, taller now. His freckles littering over his shoulders now too. Your eyes zero in on the curly green happy trail leading down to his boxers, and you inhale at the sight of the prominent bulge curved to the side of his thigh. He smiles. The sight sends warmth straight through your core and up your clit. You feel it throb beneath your panties and shift at the wetness that had begun to gather there begins to stick your panties to you. You felt warm, much too warm for amount of clothes you were wearing.

“Gorgeous, as you’ve always been, green bean.” You coo, reaching for him and taking his hand to tug him more towards you. He laughs, a deep and throaty chuckle that causes his body to shake. He shakes his head afterwards, and you shudder at the sound before he leans down and cups your cheeks, tilting your head up to kiss your lips again. “As are you, Dove. Now lay back for me, please.” You find yourself following the movement and scooting back onto the bed to lay flat on your back. Spreading your arms out above you and grinning up at Midoriya.

You watch as his hands come forward and his body leans over yours, unsnapping the buttons of your top with ease, the gentle pop of them disconnecting the only sound aside from your breathing and the light jazz playing in the background from the record player in the living room. Your shirt is open in seconds and next Midoriya is crawling down the length of your body, fingertips hooking beneath the band of your leggings before he rolls them down your legs. You shudder as the cool air hits you and lift your hips and ass to help him drag the leggings down. He rolls them off your feet and then tosses them into the corner. Then his smoldering gaze turns back to you, and the darkness flashing in them makes you shudder. You swallow.

“...Like what you see, Izuku?” You ask, lowering your tone to let your words float on the air. Midoriya makes an appreciative hum as he admires you, letting his warm, soft hands come down to gently trace over the soft curves and dips of your skin. “Yes, just as beautiful as I’ve always imagined..” he whispers, gentle fingerpads tracing over your skin before he smirks. “And this green, was it for me, Dove? Were you expecting this?” He laughs, and you hum, shifting yourself and lifting your hips gently off of the bed to hook over the sides of his own.

“..Maybe. You’ve always been a sweet boy and I thought I might need some help to encourage you, you know.” You coo back, eyelashes softly fluttering as you gaze at his face. His fingertips tracing the edge of the black lace rimming and holding the emerald green cups of your bra. You shudder as his fingertips glide over the cups to trace the top of them, lightly letting his fingers brush over your breasts. He lays one palm flat against your left breast, and you feel the warmth of his hand through your bra and shudder. “Silky, too..” he mutters, then lets his eyes trail downward. He smooths his palms over your stomach, and it clenches and rolls beneath his touch. Your hips arching up and into his touch. The warmth of his palms on your skin left trails of sunshine warming beneath.

His hands smooth up and down your torso before they finally slide down to your hips, his fingers toying with the black flowered lace there. “So pretty...All for me?” He whispers, almost in disbelief. His fingers glide down your thighs and they twitch, sensitive to his touch. Midoriya’s knuckles brush the silky emerald fabric covering your pelvis, and you feel the light touch glide straight to your clit. The wet stain on your panties grows more prominent as Midoriya’s index finger lightly flicks the little black bow on the top center of your panties, right beneath your belly button. 

You can’t help but watch him, quietly transfixed. Your core aches to be filled, and your clit aches to be touched but the look of admiration and love on his face leaves you baffled. No one had ever looked at you with the same adoration as Midoriya was. He looked so transfixed, almost lost. You’d think he was spacing if it wasn’t for the occasional shifting of his eyes to truly admire what was laid before him. You laugh, shaking your head. “Zuku if you don’t touch me I think I’ll melt into the mattress or something—” and Midoriya blinks at that, gaze snapping back up to yours as he smiles, that same shy smile from when he was a kid. His hand raises to scratch at the back of his head and he softly hunches his shoulders. 

“Ah! Sorry sorry..Was lost admiring the view. To think you looked this pretty, and all for me, you know? Quirkless old me finally got you to myself.” He shakes his head and then you frown. You see the faraway look in his eyes and sit up, turning his head towards you and planting soft kisses on his face, on his freckles. Just like you did when he was a child and disbelieving in himself. He hums, though the kisses tickle and he finds himself laughing and instead tilting his head to let his lips meld with yours. His palms slide up your thighs, leaving warmth in their wake before gliding up your torso again, up to your bra to gently cup your breasts over your bra. You coo at him and gently bite his bottom lip, pulling it back before gently letting it go, splaying a hand on his chest and dragging it gently down the curves of it. “Enough playing, Izuku. You said you’d show me how much I mean to you right..?” 

A growl resonates from Midoriya’s chest, vibrating against your own and he bumps his nose gently to your cheek. “You’re right, permission to proceed?” You laugh, the growl lighting your nerves on fire. “Granted—!” A squeal escapes your lips as the wind is knocked out of you when your body hits the bed. In the middle of laughter, Midoriya’s lips seek yours in a kiss again and you wrap your arms around his neck to return it. His arms slide around your back, fingers popping open the hooks of your bra before his hands slide the straps off your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to sit up, straddling you and you lift your arms to help him remove the bra. 

His breath hitches before his warm soft palms cover your soft mounds. You hum in appreciation and you watch as Midoriya visibly shudders in happiness. “Gods you’re so soft..” He cooes, shaking his head to control himself as his palms gently knead your breasts, fingers softly massaging the plush skin. He shifts his body downward and leans down to press kisses between your breasts and you shudder, arching your back into him and softly moaning his name. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples before he shifts his attention to the right one, sliding his tongue out and letting the wet muscle swirl around your areola. Your breath hitches at the touch, and he chuckles against your skin, flicking his tongue over your hardening nipple before he wraps his tongue around it and begins to gently suck, swirling his tongue around the tip in the process.

You keen, back arching and one hand fisting the sheets while the other buries itself into his hair, tuggins gently on the thick curls of it, “Fuck, Izuku...feels good..” Midoriya hums, the vibration a soft tingle against your skin. You shudder, shifting your thighs as Midorya leans back and sucks hard on your nipple, letting it go with a soft pop before he gently blows on your skin. You squirm beneath him and laugh, gently tugging Midoriya’s hair and he groans from deep in his throat and laughs. “Don’t rile me up, sweetheart. I’m not a little green bean anymore. I’m a whole head of broccoli now.” You can’t help but snort, “What?” Laughter bubbles in your throat and in your chest and Midoriya’s laughing with you before he gently nips the side of your breasts. 

“Hey now, don’t laugh at me! I’m trying to be sexy here. I researched how to seduce a woman you know, and they talk a lot about making her smile and rubbing her just,” you’d been so caught up in the giggles you hadn’t noticed one of Midorya’s hands had left you, a finger swipes between your thighs against your panties, lightly brushing your labia from the outside and you give a full body shudder and grasp, your hands slapping down onto his shoulders and clinging on. “right.” He grins and you smack his shoulders as he gives you that smug look. He shakes his head and shifts his knees before his hands travel back up, switching his lips to your neglected nipple while his other hand reaches up, fingers gently tweaking your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. 

After a few seconds he trails his kisses down your body, and your stomach rolls beneath the touch of his soft lips, swollen slightly from your kisses. He stops for a moment to gaze down at your skin and you hear him begin to mumble. You furrow your eyebrows to tilt your head down at him, “Whats—”

 “You’ve got so many scars...and how many people have thanked you for taking them? How many people have you helped? When was the last time someone..” He grumbled, and you froze lightly at his words. You laugh. Sure, you had scars but you were proud of them. Mostly, your quirk allowed you to heal relatively quicker than the average person, though the occasional deep wound did leave scratched like scar or a bit of discoloration. You shake your head.

“It's fine, Zuku. Really—” He interrupts you with his lips gently tracing over every mark, every blemish. He shakes his head, voice lowering an octave to a low timbre. “It's not, Dove. Those heroes treat you like shit and you absorb each and every goddamn wound. They’ll never see these scars..and I’ll never let them make them again.” A shudder goes through you at his words and you softly stroke your fingers through your hair, trusting him.

He continues down with his kisses, then lets his dark eyes gaze up at you as his teeth tug up your panties waistband. You shudder, watching as he lifts your hips, his hands gliding underneath to use his teeth and fingers to tug the material down. He inhales, keeping his composure before lifting your leg and sliding the material off, curling them up and tossing them onto his chair. You snort, looking to where he’s thrown them, “Why’d ya throw them all the way over there, ya goofball!?” 

Midoriya laughs, and you squeal as he lifts your leg up to his shoulder. “To keep them, obviously! It's called a souvenir. You used to collect rocks, and steal my socks. I think I can get away with this one. I never forgot how you asked to ‘borrow’ one of my blankets and then never gave it back.” You laugh and wiggle in his grip, gently trying to pry your leg free but he lightly tightens his grip, your leg tensed and untensed in his hold before you feel his soft lips kiss your fibula. You squeak in surprise, leg jerking and you laugh, though it dies down when you see how hooded his eyes are, and as his lips slowly crawl the length of your skin, inching towards your inner thighs. He shifts downward to his knees, thumping softly onto the floorboards beneath him and then hooks his arms beneath your thighs and drags you towards him. You squeak, body shifting down the sheets as he laughs and tosses your legs over his shoulders. 

“Zuku, jeez! Give a girl a warnin’—” His lips connect with the apex of your thighs and he inhales. He looks up between your thighs and hums. “You’re so wet..Jesus..You’re soaked. It’s leaking down your thighs and everything.” Midoriya mumbles, sliding his tongue up along the soft skin of your inner thigh and you jump slightly in his hold. His tongue gently laps up the juices gathered at there and he hums. “You taste as good as I thought you would, you know.” He speaks and your body shudders.

You gaze down at the mop of green hair and reach down to let your fingers thread through it. You shudder as you feel his soft tongue glide up between your folds, collecting the juices and you hear him swallow before he squeezes your thighs gently. He wraps one of his arms around your thighs and gently parts your folds with his index and ring finger, gently using his index finger to pull the hood of your clit up. He gently blows on it, and your body jerks in response, you moan. 

“Zuku..” he hums in response and gently slides his tongue out to lathe up the length of your pussy, tongue gathering the juices and the tip of his tongue curling up when he reaches your clit. He takes a moment then, plants a gentle kiss to your clit and then leans forward to softly begin sucking on it. 

You moan again, thighs twitching up in his hold as your fingers curl in his hair and your body rolls. Pleasure tingling its way up your spine and spreading warmth through your veins, your body shaking in pleasure. Your core clenches with want, juices weeping and leaking down. Midoriya’s tongue travels the length of your pussy once more before he shifts his index finger to begin rubbing circles against the hood of your clit, pushing his head down further to prod your entrance with his tongue before his tongue is gliding past your entrance and pushing into you and against your walls.

You’re moaning, face and chest flushed, light perspiration coating your body as Midoriya shifts so his nose pressed lightly between your folds. His hand shifts so his thumb is rubbing the firm circles into the hood of your clit and his tongue is grinding up against your walls. Your fingers tug into the moss of green hair on his head, body keening under his touch as you give a soft cry of pleasure, thighs trying to close around his head. The pleasure building in your abdomen from Midoriya’s tongue and the pressure on your clit, the weight of his fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs, and when you gaze down to look at him, your eyes blurry, you find his smoldering eyes gazing up at your face. Your entire body shudders in his grip and you whine, walls contracting around his tongue. “Zuku—! Right there! Gonna cum..! Gonna cum..!” 

Midoriya moans against you and the vibration travels straight up through your body. He shifts, letting go of one of your thighs and bringing his right hand up. He shifts to move his mouth to your clit, tongue pressing flat against you. He slides two of his fingers, his index and middle gently inside of you. With how wet you are, they slide in easily. He begins stroking his fingers in a come hither motion as he sucks your clit.

Seconds later your entire body is convulsing, a choked gasp escaping your lips. Your eyebrows furrow and back arches off the bed and your thighs squeeze Midoriya’s head. He moans against you, gently grinding his fingers against your walls as you ride out your orgasm. Only slowing down as you begin to whine and gently push his head away. He huffs, pulling back and gently stroking your trembling thighs, laying them back on the bed. 

He looks up at you, freckled face flushed, eyes hazy, pupils blown. His thick green hair is even messier than normal and his lips and nose and cheeks are covered in your juices. He licks his lips and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck—You taste so good.. I’ll never get enough of you Dove..” He whispers, voice hoarse as his palm smooths along the skin of your thigh.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath. You laugh a bit, shaking your head. “W-when the hell did you learn to do that?” You ask, slowly dragging yourself up to your elbows to gaze down at him. He gives you that same dopey grin and winks. “I told you, I wanted to seduce you, I want to make you happy. I always have.” He grins, then stands up off of his knees.

Your eyes are drawn to the prominent thick bulge in his boxer briefs. The bulge twitches when Midoriya sees your eyes on it and his face flushes again. There’s a wet stain at the tip of his bulge, and you lick your lips. “C’mere..Let's get you out of those. I want you, Izuku..” You coo, sitting up at the edge of the bed and hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. You tug them down.

His shaft pops out and almost hits you in the face. The heat emanating from it is strong, like a mini hand warmer. Midoriya laughs and rubs the back of his head. You bite your bottom lip and tug the material gently down over the curve of his ass so the garment pools at his ankles. He lifts his feet lightly and kicks the garment aside as you admire him. “Wow Zuku you’re..” Midoriya laughs a little, almost embarrassed. His torso shakes lightly with his laugh. “Yeah..I know.”  He says, only sounding slightly bashful.

You reach forward and wrap your palm around his shaft. He was about 6 inches long, however your fingers, when you wrap your palm around him, don’t touch. He lets out a soft moan at the touch of your hand against his velvety skin. His shaft throbs hard in your hand, and a drop of precum pushes out of the tip of him and drips down over his foreskin. Your eyes follow the droplet before you swallow. “I don’t know if this will—”

“I’ve got lube—Water based.” He speaks quickly, his voice in a slightly higher pitch. You blink and gaze up at him. “Do you? And you were saying I was expecting this!” Midoriya’s chest flushes pink and he scratches the back of his head. “I had to be prepared for anything!” He exclaims back, “Do you know the probability of having sex is? What the probability of us having sex was? If you calculated—” Midoriya’s voice breaks off into a gasp when your tongue swipes over the head of his shaft, gathering the precum on your tongue and pulling your tongue back to swallow. Unsurprisingly, his taste is lightly sweetened. You don’t mind it.

He stutters after that, calling your name gently as he reaches down to place a hand on your head. You hum up at him as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his shaft. He lets out a moan, hips jerking slightly. You’re careful, curling your lips over your teeth and relaxing your jaw as you slowly slide the heavy length of him into your mouth. You swirl your tongue gently in circles over the head of his shaft, then wiggle it gently against the underside. 

Midoriya keens, mumbling a soft praise. “That feels so good, Dove..” He shudders. You place your free hand on his thigh and feel the muscle tense beneath you. You slide your head further down his shaft, sucking lightly as you go. He moans again and bites his bottom lip.

You bob your head once, twice, and then pull gently off of him. Midoriya lifts his hand to let you move, though a soft whine escapes his lips in response and your core throbs. You crawl back on the bed and curl two fingers to urge him to follow.

 “Don’t wanna suck—Want you inside me.” You call, shifting yourself back into his pillow. Midoriya stares at you for a moment before he opens the drawer at his bedside table and pulls out the bottle of lube. He crawls into the bed after you and practically hops into the spot between your legs. You laugh at his eagerness, and the sight of his heavy cock bouncing too. 

He pops the cap open and then pours a generous amount onto his hand before he settles himself more snugly between your thighs on his knees. Your legs splayed over each of his own. He puts the bottle down and leans forward to press his lips against yours as his fingers press down against your lower lips. 

You shudder at the coolness of the lube but Midorya’s true to his word, gently rubbing your entrance with his lubricated fingers. You moan into the kiss as his thumb gently circles your clit, and he easily slides two of his fingers into you again. He begins to gently spread them, slowly gliding them in and out of you before he attempts to slide the third finger in. With the added lube, he’s able to slide it in and gently spread you open. Your lips continue to peck and glide against one another before he presses his lips beneath your ear and you shudder, moaning and grasping his arm from both the pressure of his fingers inside you and his kisses to your sensitive spots. He whispers against your skin, “Nobody will ever hurt you again..Not with me, not with us. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, use you. You’ve never let anyone do it to me..” You shudder. His words pull at your heart. “Ready?” He asks gently, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes again. 

You’re trembling lightly, stretched from his fingers and you nod. “Yeah—Yeah. I am..Izuku.” He groans lightly when you say his name and he smiles, shifting to gently slide his fingers out of you. He grabs the bottle of lube and pops the cap again, applying it directly to his length. He shudders from the cold of it before closing the cap and using the hand he’d fingered you with to gently spread the lube along his shaft. He bites his lip, glancing down at himself before he shifts over you and plants one hand between your shoulder and your head while he props himself up onto his knees. He gently grinds the head of his cock against your clit and you shudder and moan, lifting your hips and wrapping them around his hips. He laughs. “Eager, aren’t we, Dove?” He asks, though from the heaviness of his voice he isn’t too far behind. You nod your head. “Yeah, I am. I’ve missed you, Zuku.” You say, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek and the boy melts, his shoulders untensing and he gently nuzzles his face into your palm. He turns his head to kiss it gently again, feeling the increase of your heartbeat before he smiles at you. He looks down again then, gently prodding you with the head of his cock before he begins gently pushing in. You hiss slightly once the tips inside, feeling him stretch your walls. Midoriya moans above you, his entire body shaking. “God—You..You feel so good, Dove..” He hisses, and you bite your bottom lip at the stretch. The lube helping, and the pleasure of him pushing his hips forward to inch his cock in deeper has your back arching slightly and a soft whine of pleasure escaping your lips. 

Your arms slide up and around his neck and you shift your hips up a little more and Midoriya groans as your walls, tight and hot and wet squeeze tight around his shaft. It doesn’t take long for his hips to come flush with your own, the soft curls of his happy trail brushing against your clit. You moan out, body shaking slightly at how full of him you feel, the stretch and the pleasure of his presence inside you. Your walls squeeze hard around his shaft and Midoriya can’t help but moan, his head dropping down to rest on your own. 

“I’ve..Fuck..” Midorya begins to gently rock his hips, soft waves of pleasure flowing through your body. “I’ve wanted this for so long, little Dove..to feel you hot and wet and,” Midoriya grunts as he lowers himself onto his elbows and forearms above you, then reaches one hand down to hike your hips up higher and gives a firm roll of his hips into yours. You gasp out a moan, thighs tightening around his waist. “tight around me..Your pussy feels so good, so good..” He whimpers, his voice cracking slightly at the pleasure and your entire body floods with a sunset at his words. 

“Shit Zuku—You’re so thick..so thick..!” you whine out, and Midoriya groans, attaching his lips to your neck and moving both his hands down to your hips so he can speed up the pace. The warmth of your bodies melding into one, heartbeats thrumming in tandem. Midoriya pulls away from your neck with a wet pop, leaving behind a visible bruise before he trails his lips up the side of your jaw and his lips brush your earlobe as his hips begin to pick up pace, rolling in circles, dragging his shaft out a few inches before pushing back into you.

 “Only for you—Only’ve ever wanted to do this with you..Wanted to make you feel loved..Treated right..I’m this hard because of you..Fuck—..Only feel this good because of your pussy—‘cause of your moans..You sound so cute..How could anyone ever hurt you..? I’ll be the one to make you feel this good—Unf. Every haa..time. ” He groans into your ear, a deep timbre and you whimper. 

Something so simple as his words strike that tired little rock within your chest and you find yourself becoming overwhelmed with emotions. The feel of his cock dragging in and out of your walls, grinding against you and filling you up in a way no-one ever has. His words of encouragement floating on your ears like a deep baritone, song beating to the rhythm your heart sobbed. His groans of pleasure, a bass striking the chords deep within your core, within your soul. You find yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks, chest tight, and your face buried into his shoulder, hips rolling back into his. “Zuku..Zuku..!” 

Your soft cries of his name bring him back up and he bites his lip as he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. He shakes his head, “Good girl, good girl. Let it all out. Zuzu’s here..I’m here. I’ll never let them treat you like that again. We’ll show them..We’ll show them.. Fuck—You’re so beautiful—Gorgeous. A mag,” a deep groan escapes him as he slides his hands up, lifting from your chest and planting his knees more firmly on the bed “nolia in bloom— Shit..!” 

He hoists your legs up gently to his shoulders, shifting his position and dragging a pillow from the side to push under your tailbone to keep you steady. He then slides his palms up to cup both sides of your neck, slowly leaning down and curling your body in. You cry out softly, fingers reaching up to grasp at his arms and squeeze. In this position you could feel him sliding in deeper, his thrusts more purposeful as he cradles your neck gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

“You’re my girl, sweetheart and I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again..! Fuck—Me and you again, till the end just like always..” He moans, bangs falling over his eyes as his hips begin to rock harder into your own. The sound of his hips smacking into yours and the bed beginning to creak and bounce with his movements becoming more prominent, along with the slick sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you. You whine high in your throat and Midoriya shifts his hips downward a bit, driving his hips into you at more of an angle and letting one of his hands grasp yours, his right hand grasping your right hand and lacing your fingers together.  

You’re a sobbing mess by now, heart bursting and overwhelmed as you whine, moans coming out choked as the pressure begins building and coiling in your abdomen. Each thrust of his hips, a wet smack from where your bodies met and bounced against each other was heard. His left hand slides between your legs where the two of you’re connected and he begins to rub quick circles against the head of your clit. You choke out a cry of his name, free hand grasping at his upper arm as your back begins to arch off the bed. “Zuku! Zuku! F-fuck! I’m gonna—gonna cum! Gonna cum!” You cry, a choked garbled sound rising from your throat as Midoriya’s hips piston faster, his cock twitching inside of you. “Yeah? Yeah? Gonna c-cum for me Dove? Want you to cum for me, cum with me, c’mon.” Midoriya huffs through his nose, shifting once more to turn his head and bite your collarbone.

Your body burned like the summertime, the pressure building in your abdomen growing stronger with each thrust and rub of your clit, with each high praise sung into your ears with a love you hadn’t felt in years. Every single secret spilled, each nighttime promise and daytime hug and kiss and each fluffy butterfly you’d felt fluttering in your stomach when you’d been younger, with the same sparks igniting in your chest as the day you saw his beautiful emerald eyes again came rushing back to you. Your leg begins to shake, head tilting back, your back arching as you give out a choked cry. Your hand squeezing Midoriya’s so tight that your knuckles pale, and you sob out “Zuku Zuku Zuku!!” Pleasure lapping in flames at every single vein, in every organ as your orgasm overcomes you in a tidal wave. 

Your hearing whites out, but you vaguely make out the sound of Midoriya crying out your name into your shoulder as your walls convulse around his shaft, tightening and releasing against the velvety soft stiffness of his shaft. He cries, his entire body convulsing on top of you as his hand leaves your clit and instead fists the bedsheets, his hips rocking hard into yours as he cums, his cock throbbing hard and the warmth of his cum fills you. He’s whining and rocking into you as he rides out his own orgasm and prolongs yours. You whimper, burying your face into his neck as he curls into you. 

A few seconds later and the both of your bodies go slack at the same time. He shudders, and gently removes his hand from your own. Your hand tingles, as does every other part of your body as he gently peppers a kiss to your legs, carefully maneuvering them off of his soldiers to rest on the bed instead. You gaze up at him through hazy eyes, chest heaving and vision blurry. He lets out a soft sigh, leaning down to pepper soft kisses over your face. “That was wonderful, Dove..I’ve never felt so good..I’ve missed you so much..so much..” He murmurs against you, and you whine, your hands shakily coming up to cup his cheeks to still his face to press a loving kiss to his lips. He kisses back, and you whisper back to him, voice hoarse and throat dry. “I missed you too…” You mutter and his eyebrows furrow. 

You see tears pool in his eyes as he leans his palm into your cheek and then gently cups your opposite cheek with his free hand. “Tell me you’ll join me..Tell me you’ll stay with me..I can’t lose you again—Not..Not after getting you back. Please..Please..” His voice cracks as he begs you, tears pooling in his emerald eyes, red forming in the whites. His pupils are still blown out, but coming back to size. You look into his eyes, and think about what he wants. To be with you, to show the world only what they refuse to see, to show what compassion can do, what loving someone, what missing someone, and what it means to truly be a hero. You think, really, of how all Midoriya wants to do is save you, to protect you and others, to do for him exactly what you’d done for him all those years ago. You turn your head gently, pressing your lips to the softness of his palm and nod.

“I will.”

[lovelypale]

Narcotics // Addict!Senjuro x Dealer!Reader

Warnings: 18+, drug use, addiction, toxic relationship, suicide mention, it’s consensual but I’m gonna say dubcon just in case, mostly plot with a bit of spice, Senjuro is college aged.

Words: 1600

a/n: Had this idea plaguing me and I just needed to get it out. Sensitive topic here (as if I write anything that isn’t) but yeah may or may not give these two a happy or sad ending. Let me know I guess!

You opened the door to the large figure in front of you, dripping from the downpour that was tearing through the city. He was imposing in stature but still very skinny otherwise; a very meek man. He was shivering, but you had a feeling that it wasn't from the rain. 

"Why did you take the last train?" You tested the water with a small opener. It was very curious that he would show up so late, again. He knows what he's here for, but you wanted him to say it himself. 

He opened his mouth to speak but ultimately couldn't, instead opting for a shaky wave. You scoffed and opened your door wider for him before leaving to get a towel. When you returned he was still at the door, still shaking, still appearing utterly helpless. You handed him the towel and he took it from you, still avoiding your eyes. Everything was silent. 

"I'm not selling to you anymore Senjuro." 

He continued to stand there, blond and red locks frayed and dripping water on the floor. He looked beautiful, always does, it was a talent that even helpless and strung out he still looked breathtaking. He nodded and hugged himself tighter. "I'm sorry. I'll do anything, please." 

"You don't want anything from me." You put your hand against his cheek and felt his cool trembling against your warm skin. He was desperate again. He said he was going to quit plenty of times but he would always end up right back at your doorstep. You watched him grow from a slightly misguided kid to a truly fucked over adult. He barely knew his mom, dad's an alcoholic, and his brother seems alright but he was always busy teaching. You're sure he's messed up like everyone else and is just the type to let things fester in secret but Senjuro doesn't know that. He thinks he's the problem, the only one that couldn't cope, that can't contribute in the way that his older brother does. It messed with him so badly that it led him to you. The school's dealer. Not only can you make the pain disappear, you can make it feel good.

He doesn't need to feel good. He needs to never see you again. 

"I can't stop shaking, my family will notice. Please." 

"I hope you know they’d hate what you do for this more than the actual drugs itself." He looked at you with his dull red eyes through his foggy glasses, you remember when they used to sparkle. He wasn't like you, he was always so motivated and happy. At some point you used to envy his shy and upbeat demeanor. 

"I understand." He smiled at you but it looked eerie and unnatural. He wasn’t lying about his shaking though, it really did look bad.

You shook your head at him and sighed, turning around to a side room to check your supply. Lucky him, you had exactly what he needed. You took just one and dropped It in his palm. He looked at you confused. "I told you I'm not selling you shit anymore. You're getting one to tide you over, other than that I don't want to see you here ever again. Get help."

He looks at you with a plea in his eyes as he gently grabs your arm. "I don’t think I have anyone else y/n, please don’t leave me alone.”

"That's not my problem, do you even have money anymore?" You pushed away from him and he quickly latched back on to you. Your heart strained in your chest, you always hated this part. This stupid hug he gave you that brought you back to your youth, the days of being in high school when he hugged you before running off to his friends. This was always just business to you but he walked into your life and you’ve felt increasingly responsible for him since. It felt less and less like making money and more like assisted suicide. 

He placed the pill in his mouth and pulled himself even closer to you, ''Anything." You felt his still wet body pressed against you and you knew this fight was over.

You sighed before pulling away from him and walking to your room. He followed you, knowing exactly how this routine went. He watched you kick off your pants and your underwear. You sat on your bed in nothing but your top and watched him with guilty eyes. He was pretty, even with fading hair and way less weight than he started with he was gorgeous to you. Usually people as deep as him don’t maintain as well but he managed to keep his baby face. He looks tired, the type of tired sleep can't fix, but at least you can't tell that he's sold his life away for a drug. At least not yet, but he's getting there. 

You know you're taking advantage of him, but he's also hoping you do. He’s always been a people pleaser and you can’t say no to letting him please you. It started with him running you drinks to making out in your car and now...Terrible. As sinister as this courtship is, neither of you truly want to stop. You loved him, but not enough to stop him from hurting himself. "Hurry up, you have an 8 AM tomorrow." 

“I dropped that course.” 

You stared at him with pure pain in your eyes. “Of course you did.” 

He peels himself out of his wet clothes with a slight sway to his form, you can tell whatever issues that plague him are starting to float away. As usual, he keeps his glasses on. He smiles at you with weird reverence, like he's thankful that you're going to be the one to ultimately kill him. Your hand immediately takes hold of his pretty cock. Long, curved, and pink at the tip. You swirled your thumb around his tip as he patiently waited for you to tell him what to do. You made languid movements up and down his twitching dick, thinking to yourself that you should probably do something before he's completely spaced out. 

"Lay down." He listens and slowly gets on your bed before giving his attention back to you. You can never seem to get over how dainty he looks, it makes you feel even worse about your little situation. You get on top of him and he instantly starts bucking against you, not really even aiming for anything, just trying to get the burning sensation on his skin to cool down. You didn't prep but you didn't need to, taking him was easy. Power and pity is two things you've learned to sexualize when it comes to him. His vulnerability had to be hot or else it would quickly become sad.  

His legs squirm underneath you from the building sensitivity. He utters small "thank you" and gasps as you move up and down his dick. His slight curve rubbed against your upper wall, causing you to be noisier than you'd like to be.  He's getting warmer and warmer, feeling found inside of you. The world is fading off into something more obscure, something that isn't tangible. Your hips feel plush against his palm, he's digging down and tearing into your skin but he knows you’ll forgive him for it.

You watch him writhe in ecstasy, getting closer and closer to his high. He looked so beautiful with his hair all over your bed and his glasses threatening to fall off completely. You never get a warning with him, your orgasms are always so sudden and violent. Your thighs squished his as you curled into yourself, he was still thrusting, seeking his own relief. You thought you were going to pass out from the feeling of him still plunging deep inside of you. "S-stop." 

You pulled off of him and wrapped your hand around his sticky cock again, not wanting to leave him hanging. He seemed to be capable of the job on his own, thrusting into your warm palm with pure joy. "I'm getting close-." You didn't give him the chance to finish his sentence before you changed your hand motion to a slight twist. He came almost instantly in your grasp, you flinched from the slight splatter against your face as you continued to move your hand. He struggled to look at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that." 

You let go and grabbed the same towel you gave him to dry off. "You always say sorry so much, stop it." You knew he probably didn't hear that, he was past the point of holding an intelligible conversation. There's nothing but the sound of your sheets moving underneath his squirming body and the sound of faint moaning, it wasn't a pretty sight but you're used to it.

You watched him move around until he eventually stayed completely still, fully enraptured by his high. He was going to be stuck like this for a few hours. You shook your head, admonishing yourself for even letting him in. You can't keep giving him drugs, and you especially can't keep letting him pay you like this. You grabbed his glasses and put it on your dresser so he wouldn’t crush it, in that moment his phone lit up and you saw the message, it was his brother. His friends stopped asking where he disappeared to a long time ago, it was truly only Kyojuro that still cared about where he went to at night. He has to know the reason why his brother is slipping away.

Hey! I finished grading tests early and picked up your favorite on my way home. I was hoping I could talk to you tonight but don’t worry about it! Your food is in the fridge. Wherever you are, stay safe. We care about you.

You winced at the message and decided to respond for him. Thank you, I'm staying with a friend to study tonight. I'll be back tomorrow. 

Nothing but routine.

[annabellenaughtyprincessrose]

My Brothers, The Lovers ❤ (Repost: Classic fanfic)

My Brothers, The Lovers *Revised version*

By Annabelle Naughty Princess Rose

Summary:I wouldn't trade my Brothers for anything in the world. SAM/DEAN/OFC. Wincest!

Rated: MA (18+)

Author notes: Hey guys! Well, I have  another classic fic of mine to share. This was a little idea I had while I wrote this story, an OFC sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, and thier growing forbidden bond. So, this is a Wincest story.

This story was recently published on my Fanfiction.net, as well as on live journal, Wattpad, and WordPress page. There may be some little changes I made because the story had bad typos. (Don't judge me.)

Please note: That this story contains Wincest. If you are uncomfortable with this nature, please DO NOT read!

Lastly, I don't own any characters. The story plot was my idea. ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

(Reader's POV:)

I love my brothers. They are caring. They are protective. When you're feeling down, they turn your frown upside down. If it was over a guy, they would stop at nothing to nail his ass to a wall. Any person, whether boy or girl is lucky to have them.

I wouldn't trade my brothers for anything in the world. They are a godsend. Sam and Dean: my knights in shinning amour.

We been through a lot together. Since our father died, it has been hell on earth...literally!

But no matter, we had stuck it through till the end and now we could live our lives...

A lot has happened since we saved the world from certain doom. We had one hard challenge: to learn how to live normal lives. I mean, I know it sounds stupid to do one simple thing, but come on, In our eyes, we are hunters. We were born as hunters. I don't think the three of us couldn't shake the fact that life was over. It was the only thing we knew.

But still, we somehow mange to cope with it. We settled in Kansas with the help of our father's will. We brought a house pretty much like the one you see on those commercials with the white picket fence.

It was close to the University Sam was planning to attend to resume his studies as a attorney and close to Lisa, Dean's one last stand and his possible legitimate lovechild Ben. I, myself was planning to go to a local Community College. At first, I didn't really wanted to go to school, but Sam insisted that it was serve me well later in life.

Yeah, life was perfect... at least for the half of that year. The urge of the life of freedom were still brewing inside us. We miss the life with no worries, of bills, school, kids...

So we sold the house hop into the impala and left.

About three months after, I noticed that our bond was changing. I noticed Dean would at times, would make quick glances out from the corner of my eye. I really didn't pay to much attention to it at first because I thought it was something that brothers normally do.

But now I found at night when I take turns laying next to him or Sam, at times I could have swore I felt his eyes staring down at me while I sleep.

Sam on the other hand had a very different approach. There would be times whenever me and him are alone, he wouldn't normally act like your typical big brother. He would act as though like a boyfriend. When me and him are alone, He would be a lot closer than usual. At times when I'm in the shower, I could have swore that I heard him breathing on the other side of the curtain not to mention to very tall figure I see just standing mere inches.

I guess I'm just imagination things. That's it's all in my head. Or maybe, I have a bad case of thinking dirty. Can I help it? I am not going to lie. My brothers are absolutely drop-dead gorgeous! They could get the princess of Cambridge a heat attack! I found that comment to be quite interesting! I begin to think the times when the three of us would be out, like geoceries shopping, bars,at the park. I have women rolling their eyes, whispering words about me, thinking that I was a whore for my brothers...

Nothing could prepare me for what happened two weeks later...

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was sitting on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy hotel. I was writing in my journal at the same time sneaking glances at Dean as he was wiping down the impala. The way he smiles as he glazes down at his baby makes me happy but a tad jealous...but he assure me that I was his main baby.

I could hear the faint sound of water coming from the bathroom. Sam,was inside, washing his god build form in the shower.

Turning my head, I couldn't help but grin as I saw a narrow view of his ass. Even after all these years, Sam still had a nasty habit about leaving the shower curtain open.

"Hey," Dean replies getting my attention. I turn my head towards him trying to look innocent."What are you smirking at?" He asks.

At his question, I raised my eyebrows giving him a side smile.

"Nothing. just a thought I was thinking." I looked up at him and I could tell he wasn't buying it. That's the thing I love about Dean, he has the sense to know whether something was troubling me or Sam...and he would stop at nothing to find out.

"About? I curious," He replies in a singing tone making me laugh.

"It's personal. My thoughts only," I winked. Finally he give up the debate and returns to his duty wiping down his impala.

Later that night, we decided to pay a visit at local bar. That day was the worst night of my life.

To be from what seemed, the only sibling with two very handsome attractive brothers was a bitch!

From the second we walk in, there were woman, whether their were in a relationship,married, or even betrayal their same-sex partner, had cornered us.

One was a blonde, who I can tell had the personality of stupid trying to seduce Dean with her luscious but totally fake breasts. While a brunette who was staring Sam down and was the bartender of the bar didn't give a damn if she had other people waiting to be served. It disgust me how women could be so depraved for a man.

I wanted to get out of there. The room felt as through it was trying to suffocate me. It hurt my heart to see I was the only one left out. To keep myself from bursting into tears, I did just that but my attempt to leave was cut short by a hand on by wrists.

Turning my head, I came face to face to a man who was pure hillbilly. He had messy hair,oily jumper and I remember that when I was at the bar, I would turn my head and he would smile at me.

"Where do you think you're going, darling?" The man asked. I can tell that he was drunk and had the slightest clue as what he was doing.

"Going home," I replied. "And I appreciated if you remove your hand from my wrist." I tried to Jerk him away but it was a useless attempt.

"I don't think so darling, You're looking very pretty there's no need for an angel face like you to scurry away..."He tried to pull me along, but I stood my ground. Then he does the unthinkable, He roughly pulls me against him loosing his balance completely falling on one of the now broken tables.

Everyone turned their heads Including Sam and Dean who immediately lest from their social gathering to my aid.

"Hey Asshole!"Dean replies as he and Sam walked over to the scene. "What are you doing with my sister?!" He began to throw insults at the poor man, while ignoring Sam's attempt to help me up, I stood up on my feet.

"I'm fine," I replied. "The fat ass broke my fall."

"Fat ass?" The man shouted. "Who are you calling a fat ass you bitch!"

"Hey!" Dean shouted. reaching down to jerk the man up by his collar. "Don't fucking talk to my sister like that!"

"What happened?" Sam asked, taking my hand and I jerked it away.

"Oh! Like you care! he was trying to rape me!" I shouted. "Forget it! I'm getting the fuck out of here!" The last thing I remember was Dean calling that fat bastard "a Son of a Bitch" before throwing punches and Sam trying to calm him down.

At the Hotel, I stood fully nude in the shoulder letting the warm water abuse my body. I was just so relieved that I got out of there.

So what I acted like a ass. So what if I act like a jealous girlfriend. I'm not going to be held responsive. I could hear the door to the hotel room opening following the distant voices between the two.

Dean was shouted some sentence that were inseparable and Sam was speaking in a mild tone. I covered my ears, to try to block out the conversation, along with the pounding of the door, but it a useless. Finally, I finished my shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and took a deep breath. I made my way out of the bathroom with my head down before glazing at the faces of my older brothers.

Sam, who now has a sad look on his face. His green eyes sparking with concern. Whilst Dean has a pissed off expression, trying his best to remain calm. There were no words that were unable to fall out of mouth. I just walked passed them and climb into to very large king side bed we shared with saying a unexpectedly surprising, I suddenly began to cry my ear out.

Almost immediately, Sam and Dean's expressions changed. If they were confused, I could say the same thing. The reason why I was crying, I couldn't understand. I was always the second tough one when it comes from intense situations, I guess with everything that we had been through together finally had took a toll on me. I see with my watery eyes Sam turned towards Dean and he nodded his head. without hesitation, they began to walk towards me.

Dean lay on my left, Sam lay on my right. They huddled up against me trying to console me. Sam was wiping away from my tears, while Dean began to rub small circles down my back.

This warm fuzzy feeling began to grow inside me. I gaze into Sam's eyes and I can see the easiness and calm in his face. Then I did the unthinkable. I reached my hand and caress his cheek and I leaned in a kiss him passionately on the lips.

There was no feeling I can't describe other than, I felt as through I explode into a million pieces. What was more shocking is that Sam didn't pull away. He gave in and began to response with my advances. Dean was anxious to show his passion. I could feel his lips on my neck, his hands trailed down to my breast giving them a firm squeeze.

I moaned in response breaking my lips with Sam replacing them with his. I tried to show my love for the both of them. Wanting to give them all of me...

Everything happen in a flash. the removing of clothes. The hot soft lips on my heated skin. The feeling of being completely filled. Like flipping a page in a book. Like riding the biggest wave and suddenly ,you're caught in the tide.I felt so much pleasure.

It felt like Heaven. It was heaven...

That was last night...

And here we are...

Today is a new day. I stare at the ceiling with a smile on my face as I felt warm naked bodies sleeping silently against me...

Nude Dean on my left...

Nude Sam on my right.

Right now, I can't say that God is pleased. Not with the events that had happened. Now, When I said I love my brothers...I love them more than just a sibling nature. I love them, I'm madly in love with them! When I think of their eyes and their smiling faces, it makes my body want to explode in fireworks.I don't care what people would say. I don't care if our father would turn over in his grave, I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world! it always will be the three of us forever...

Sam and Dean,

My brothers, the lovers.

The End.

[suicidalslasher]

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 - 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒅.

the one where Jason is a jealous  dumbass,  that’s it -  that’s the plot.

WARNINGS: This is a Jason Dean fanfiction, therefore, you all know what you’re signing up for. I don’t really got to tell you, twice. 

  Possessive!Jason. Jealous!Jason. Female reader, reader’s pronouns are she/her. 

Slight mention and scene of choking but it’s not graphic. A hint of NSFW but it isn’t shown. Also there’s a few mentions of blood but it’s not a lot, either. I wanted to tag that nonetheless, too. Also, Jason actually shows emotions in this which is out of character but in MY world, Jason Dean is a simp to his girlfriend and would rather die than to live a day without her. 

I may add the smut scene later on, who knows?  Not me. This is my first imagine of Jason Dean so be nice to me or I’ll be like Ghostface and gut you like a fish (◍•ᴗ��◍)♡ ✧*  

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White knuckles from clenching his fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, Jason bit back his words, knowing they'd be harsh and full of  poison.  He's fully aware of how much damage he'd likely cause if he spit out the words that were on his mind.  He was going to break, and he knew it wasn't going to take too long until he did so.   Yet, as the female continued to talk beside him as an attempt to grab his attention, the feelings only grew larger and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood trickling on the tip of his tongue.   Jason swallowed that anger when it was nothing but a fire-seed and he had forgotten to drink something cold right after, in an effort to calm himself down;   therefore, it grew in his stomach until it came out hotter than any dragon breath.... all those negative emotions that swam in his veins  and crept in the pit of his stomach exploded and all the feelings he desperately was trying to hold back came burning on the one person he loved the most, his girlfriend, (Y/N). His face was red with suppressed rage and when (Y/N)  set her finger on his shoulder, he swung around and mentally snapped, his nostrils flared  and his pupils were blown and dilated  as he snarled like an  out of control beast.  "I hate him more than I do the Heathers," spat Jason,  as he pushes his girlfriend up against the wall, the framed photograph that hung there now remained at the bottom of their feet, shattered into hundreds of pieces.   "I don't like you hanging out with him." Jason growled, his fingers curling around (Y/N)'s throat, feeling her pulse begin to quicken  as he presses his weight down onto the palm of his hand.  "Do you know how much it hurts to see you look at someone else? To see you smile at someone else? It makes me feel sick.”     "Jason... Let go of me. Let's talk. Please? You don't even know him... if you'll let me speak and tell you-"  "You love him, don't you?" Jason hisses, the sentence feeling like a slap to (Y/N)'s face as he throws out this statement.... it was a lie, that's what it was and (Y/N) desperately was trying to tell him how wrong he was but he just wouldn't listen, the arrogant  son of a bitch never listens!    "You love him more than you do me."  Before either teen realizes it, Jason is letting go of (Y/N)'s throat only for him to raise his hand up  into a fist and he's punching the only other framed photograph that was beside her, the glass shattering behind his knuckles. (Y/N) screams in horror and although she's pissed off, she - obviously - still cares about her boyfriend.  "Jason!" (Y/N) yelps, tears falling down her cheeks as she rushes to her boyfriend's side, examining his hand which was now dripping with crimson, a few drops of red landing on the now broken picture frame and the wooden floor beneath their feet. "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here, somewhere-" "You love him." Jason repeats, ignoring the fact she was trying to help him.  He pulls his hand back, dropping his arm by his side, not  even caring about the way the blood was falling from his knuckles and staining both his pants and shirt. The anger and venom that once coated his words were now replaced with a hint of sadness and heartbreak.  She's never seen him this upset before.... regardless, if he'd just calm down, she could explain.  "Jason, baby-" His voice broke as he looked up at (Y/N), sad eyes meeting with her confused but angry gaze. On top of those, she was sad, too.   "Go then. Go to him, if you prefer to spend your day with him rather than your own boyfriend. You don't care about me, I'm not sure you ever did."  (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head as a few more tears spill past her cheeks. "Fine. If you won't let me talk and tell you my side of the story, I'm leaving. If that's what you think and if you truly think I don't give a fuck about you, I'm gone." (Y/N) mutters, letting go of his hand as she walks back over to the door, grabbing her keys and wallet before storming out the door, slamming the door shut as she leaves.

A week passes. 

Another week following behind that.  

(Y/N) didn't bother to call or show up.

He really fucked things up, didn't he? 

Jason wasn't huge on  showcasing his feelings and putting them out on display for people to see. The only emotion he was so used to showing was anger and madness. Nothing but chaos was built and stored away in Jason Dean's body, too.  All three traits made him who he was.  People may not like him because of his temper and all the flaws he had but it was him, and he didn't plan on changing for anybody.  Expect.... of course, (Y/N). As he sat alone in his bedroom, he felt depressed. He never cried, either.  Couldn't tell you the last time he ever did cry. Did he even cry as a baby? Jason wasn't sure, nor could he tell you.  

But.... Jason cried. For the first time in forever, he broke down and cried. Couldn't help himself.  By the end of the night, there were no tears left to cry. He had run dry. His body couldn't form any more tears.   Feeling both mentally and physically drained, Jason reached over and grabbed his phone off of the night stand, dialing the one number he actually had memorized.  All he got was her voicemail.   "This is (Y/N). I can't answer the phone at the moment but  I will get back to you as soon as I can! Bye!"  Jason groaned and he was half-tempted to throw the phone out of his window but he decided against it as he left a voicemail, regardless. He wanted (Y/N) to know he was sorry. 

He wanted (Y/N) to know that despite their arguments (which weren't constant but when they did fight, it was mainly due to Jason's behavior rather than her own) he loves her.  

 (Y/N) coming into his life was the only good thing the world had offered and gave him. He wasn't going to give her up. Not that easily, anyways.  "Hey." He had forgotten he was leaving a voicemail, having zoned out for a second, the beep brought him back out of his thoughts.  "It's me. Uh.... Jason.... your boyfriend? I hope so, anyway, still.... But, yeah, it's Jason.... Jason Dean.... ha, uh.... you knew that.

  Listen, I'm sorry for everything,  (Y/N).  I'm sorry for having that temper tantrum and taking out my frustration and jealousy on you. I'm not good at this type of stuff, not so great with showing my emotions in person either, so....

 I'll talk here,  hopefully the message goes all the way through. I don't want to say this in person, again, I'm not good at the whole unraveling my feelings, especially not face to face.

 But... (Y/N), baby, you're the best thing that's ever been mine. You're my darlin', my girl, and I got jealous because I was scared, okay? 

I was scared of losing you. And I'm telling you this because it's been awhile now and I haven't seen you around or heard from you in awhile. Therefore, I may have already lost you but.... I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm sorry, okay? 

Thought you'd never hear me say that, huh? Me, apologizing? That's like... once in a blue moon. Hah.....  

But, uh... well, it's true. I'm sorry and I, Jason Dean, love you, (Y/N) (L/N). And I hope that you still love me too."   With that, Jason ends the call, hanging the phone back up on the table as he falls back onto the bed. He didn't - doesn't - know what to do if he didn't have (Y/N) by his side.   Trying to ignore these thoughts and place his attention elsewhere, he decides he needs to focus on sleeping. His body was exhausted after all that crying, plus the punch to the picture frame was still making his hand ache and throb, despite it being a few weeks since he had done it. 

He had one hell of a nasty bruise, too. He was sure it wouldn't look so ugly and scarred if he  had listened to (Y/N) and taken her up on that offer when she suggested the first aid kit...  Before he knows it, he's drifting off into a deep slumber, naturally bringing a pillow into his chest, tucking it underneath his arm as he falls asleep.   

Faint whispers of (Y/N)'s name spills pass his lips as he sleeps. He'd rather be cuddling her than a pillow but he'll take what he can get. He just hopes she'll accept his apology.  

(Y/N) gets home a little after midnight, sighing heavily and tiredly as she kicks off her shoes and strips out of her jacket, hanging the coat up first before setting her shoes under the rack. She had just finished unpacking and helping her cousin move things in his new apartment and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. 

 In the corner of her eye, however, she notices her answering machine is flashing red, letting her know someone had left a voicemail.  She walks over and clicks on the button, expecting it to be for  her parents but instead she's met with a shocking fate - it was Jason.  

Hearing his voice, so weak and vulnerable, brought tears to her eyes and she bit back a sob. Especially when he apologized, that was new. 

They've said those three words to each other before, of course, but it was hearing how sad he sounded that let her know he truly did love her, despite everything they've been through and all the silly arguments they've shared over the past few months; they loved each other. 

 And nothing - nobody - could ever stand in the way of that.   Jason was still a huge dumbass, however. 

And as she grabs her jacket, sliding the thick layer of clothing around herself and dips her feet into her boots, she's quick to go and tell him that, too.  

She loves him, yes, but she needs to let him know he was a  huge fucking idiot. 

Jason, for the most post, was sleeping peacefully until he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs, along with a string of curse words. 

  He was quick to get up, throwing the blanket and pillow aside as he opened his bedroom door and creeps down the hallway, wondering who the hell was in his living room.   

He was met with.... well, not a burglar  neither his father as he would have guessed the next outcome to be but rather his girlfriend.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" He asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands as he tried to shake off the remaining sleep that had taken over him not even a few hours ago. 

"I came here to scare you, obviously." She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she scrambles up and off of the floor, brushing her knees and arms from the fall she had taken.  "Your door was locked, couldn't find the extra key anywhere so I snuck in through the window and-"

"And... you're bleeding." Jason said, gesturing to the tiny gash on her arm.   "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here somewhere." He mocks, giving her a playful smile as he quoted the words she had said to him the day they got into that fight. 

 (Y/N) said nothing but she follows when Jason offers his hand out to her, anyway.   He was surprised when he did find the small box up in a cabinet.   

"It's fine. I'm fine. Nothing  a bandage won't fix, right?" 

"(Y/N). Why are you here? You never did answer me." Jason said, getting out the tiny box of band-aids, ripping one open as he presses the item down onto her arm. She was right, it wasn't a big cut, a few drops of blood, sure, but it wasn't one that'd get infected.  

"I got your voice message." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "And I came to talk to you about it."

He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good or bad thing.

 "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're a dumbass." 

Oh. 

 It was bad. 

He felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He really let his jealousy get the best of him and now he was going to lose the one good thing he had in his life. 

"I love you but you didn't let me speak," She continued.  "That guy you saw... first of all, you have no right to judge him or say you hate him when you have no idea who he is. That dude I was seen with was my cousin, who, may I add, is gay.” 

“I’ve been helping him move which is why you saw me in town with him. We were getting a few supplies and picking up his furniture.” She continues.

“You got jealous over a guy who is far from being attracted to  females. And you know... he's related to me as well, so, that also plays a huge part in it. And if you didn't notice either, the picture you broke was actually a portrait of my family and his together at a family reunion. Of course, you didn't see that, though or probably even noticed but.... yeah, you're a dumbass. I love you, J.D, but you're an idiot for thinking I'd ever love someone more than I love you." 

Jason says nothing, he feels embarrassed, ashamed, but overall; he feels happy, knowing she still loves him, even if he was a total moron.  "I'm sorry, baby, I got jealous and I shouldn't jump so quickly to conclusions  and-"

"And you need to make up for it." She said, pressing her chest up against his, resting her hand on the palm of his cheek, brushing a few stray hairs out from his face as she gives him a seductive look. "And how.... exactly, are you going to make up for it, baby?" She purred. 

"I think I've an idea." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah? While you're at it, can you choke me like you did, too?" 

"I'll do more than just choke you with my hand, darling." 

"To be suffocated and to choke on either your cock and hand would be a blessing, my dear." 

"Then let's go upstairs, shall we?"

(Y/N) smiled and took Jason's hand with her own, giggling as if she wasn't just talking about getting choked by her boyfriend, as if she was some saint rather than a sinner. Fuck... Jason loves how dirty she was. "We shall." He replies, nearly dragging her up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

"Going to show you how much I love you, going to treat you so good, so well, baby girl... missed you so much, love you so much..." 

[junicai]

peaches.

| summary | aria’s hiding something. lucas figures out what it is. (partly)

| word count | 4.1k

| warnings | mentions of physical abuse (not real)

| era | November 2019, SuperM World Tour

6. “Isn’t that, like. Illegal?” “Potentially.”

15. “Sh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

38. “Where did all those bruises come from?”

a/n: i was not intending on including this plot point so soon, but it really fit with the request and the next thing i knew it was written? so ill just leave this here to stew. first person to guess what’s going on, 10 points to ur house

Aria loved her job. 

Aria loved her job. 

Aria loved her job, but not when she was sore and aching, and the only thing that was on her mind was burrowing beneath her blankets and sleeping for sixteen hours. The bone deep exhaustion was not something new to be experienced, but she wasn’t sure if it ever got easier to endure. 

It was only two weeks into their official world tour and Aria had forgotten just exactly how taxing it all was on the body. Just yesterday, she’d taken a small spill across the stage - having not seen the protruding wire that was coming from the lighting at the front of the stage. Half asleep, her mind was elsewhere right up until the moment the world tilted and the floor came rushing up to meet her. 

Aria had caught herself with her left hand, stopping her face from taking the brunt of the fall but her wrist had twisted beneath her body as her elbow gave out under the abrupt pressure. 

Her cry had reverberated around the stadium and it wasn’t long before seven boys were coming around the stage curtains, making their way over with wide eyes. 

Ten had wrapped an arm around her shoulder to hoist her up from the ground as her wrist was bandaged - Aria had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but the red ring marking the skin left no room for arguments - and turned her head away from the darkening face of Baekhyun as he crouched down to ask what happened.

Glancing down at the now purple ring of bruises around her wrist, Aria sighed before reaching out to snag the roll of bandages from the countertop where she had put it after carefully unwrapping it from her wrist. She hadn’t wanted to get the wrappings wet under the shower head, but after struggling for a moment to put it back on, she realized that she probably needed a second pair of hands. 

Aria winced slightly, already anticipating the admonishing look she was going to get from Taemin for taking off the support so soon. 

She pulled at the towel wrapped around her body making sure everything was covered before bending over and tossing her hair over her shoulders. She caught the hair in an old t-shirt, wrapping it around once before standing upright and twisting the material onto the top of her head. 

Having flicked her had up so quickly, Aria shot out a hand to steady herself as the world spun slightly. She stayed stationary until the world came level again. 

As Aria sleepily shuffled out of the bathroom into her bedroom, she could have cried in relief when she saw Lucas sitting on the adjacent bed. 

Aria loved her members, that went without saying. But Lucas here meant she didn’t have to shuffle out into the main living area to find someone to help her rebandage her wrist. Lucas would do it for her, and he could never scold her - no matter how hard he tried. 

“Heyo,” Aria greeted, nodding her head at the lanky boy from across the room. “You mind giving me a hand?” 

Lucas looked up, before quickly looking down with a pained look. “You mind putting on some clothes?”

Aria laughed at his face, eyes shut tightly closed and facing the wall. She told him to wait a moment or two, before pulling the folded pajamas and hoodie (she was pretty sure it was Ten’s but at this point it could have been anyone’s) off the duvet cover and quickly pulling them on. The wet t-shirt that had wrapped her hair on top of her head fell to the floor, and Aria picked it up before throwing it into the small basket in the corner. 

“You can look now,” she teased, running her good hand through her damp hair.

Lucas turned back around with a scowl. “We talked about the towel thing, Riri.” 

“Correction: you talked about the towel thing. I laughed at your misery.” 

He glared at her from across the bed. The effect of his hardened stare though, was greatly reduced by the large yellow sweater that covered most of his body, and the way he had tucked himself in to a small ball shape on the end of the bed. “There was a good two and a half minutes of conversation, and I distinctly remember you saying that you’d be more careful.” 

“And I distinctly remember you saying that you’d be staying in the living room to watch Iron Man with Mark, yet here you are.” Aria countered, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“Yeah, like two hours ago!” 

“Well how was I supposed to know the movie had ended?” 

“Time perception?” 

Aria snorted. “You know I’m bad at that.”

“Well get better at it?”

“But Lucas,” Aria whined now, throwing herself to lie flat on the bed, “I’m in pain and that means I’m not focused. I’m injured doesn’t that automatically mean you have to be nicer to me now?”

“You’re in pain?” Lucas’ voice dropped a tone. 

Aria sat up rapidly, her head spinning slightly at the speed. “No,” She denied.

Lucas levelled her with a look before extending his hand out, turning to fully face her on the bed. His legs folded beneath him couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Show me how bad the bruising is again.”

She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but concern. Perhaps a tinge of the humor remained from their previous course of conversation, but it was quickly swept away with a blink. Relenting, Aria held out her left hand and looked away when Lucas inhaled slightly at the purpling skin. His hands were gentle, but Aria still hissed slightly at the contact.

“You took off the bandages?” his voice was softer now, as were his fingers as her carefully cradled her wrists. Aria shook her head lightly. 

“Nah, I just needed them off so I could shower. I wasn’t sure how they’d fair against a ton of deep-treatment conditioner, and I didn’t want them to go soggy or something.” Aria explained, still allowing her wrist to be held gingerly by Lucas. “It doesn’t actually hurt though, I was just teasing.”

“Where are they now?” Lucas questioned, dropping Aria’s wrist back to her own lap. “The bandages I mean.”

She gestured to the other bed in the room, where the beige-coloured roll sat on the pillow at the top of the bed. 

“I tried to put it back on in the bathroom, but..” Aria trailed off, waving her hands around to try and articulate herself without the words. She wasn’t sure if she had made much sense, but Lucas nodded all the same.

Without a word he pushed himself off the bed, socked feet padding across the floor to the other bed. He snagged the tail end of the roll, pulling it towards him before flailing slightly and just grabbing the body of the roll itself when it began to unravel.

He heard a muffled laugh from behind him, and turned to look at Aria over his shoulder. The girl was grinning behind her hand, facing away into the corner of the room. 

“Careful, or I’ll leave you to go tell Taemin-hyung why your wrist is un-supported right now.”

Aria promptly shut her mouth, pout naturally forming. 

Coming back over, Lucas nudged her over with his knee to make room for himself against the headboard. The clean bedsheets folded underneath him, and he settled himself comfortably with his legs spread slightly. Lucas pat in between his legs, motioning for Aria to come closer. 

“C’mere I’ll fix it. I wouldn’t leave you to hyung’s wrath,” he promised, a wide grin on his face.

Aria was still slightly untrusting of his smile, but her exhaustion won over her skepticism quickly and she shuffled up the bed to sit cross-legged in between Lucas’ extended legs. 

His hands were more careful this time - having learnt from the first experience handling her tender wrist - but he made quick work of wrapping back up the bruised area. Aria could see that he was concentrated on getting it right, only muttering a hold that or a is that too tight? once or twice before folding the tail ends into the precisely wrapped material.

“Where’d you put the safety pin?” he questioned, looking back over at the pillow on the other bed incase he missed it.

Aria left her injured wrist in Lucas’ lap, using her good hand to fish out the metal clip from the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing. She handed it to Lucas with a small smile, thanking him with a light punch to his arm once he pinned the strapping in place. 

“Oh my god I’m tired.” Lucas leant back onto the bed, letting his head bang against the wall with a resounding thud. Aria winced slightly at the sound, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind the minor brain trauma so she refrained from commenting. 

“Same. So so much same. Really just want to go to sleep right now, but if I don’t do something with my hair it’ll be horrendous in the morning, and I can’t deal with another scolding from the make-up noonas. Not twice in a week,” Aria complained, falling forward so her still wet hair fanned out over the duvet. 

“Want me to braid it?”

“You know how to plait hair?” Aria stayed lying down, eyes trailing over the cracks in the ceiling paint. 

“Yeah,” Lucas laughed slightly. “Kunhang wanted to see what he’d look like with little plaits, so I watched a few youtube videos on it.” 

Aria bent her neck at an angle to look at Lucas’ face with squinted eyes. “Promise you won’t make a bird’s nest of my hair?” 

Lucas looked at her with comically wide, sincere eyes and held up three fingers pressed together. “Scouts honor,” he nodded solemnly. 

Aria coughed out a laugh, kicking at him with her feet. “Oh my god how do you even know that, you’re spending too much time with Mark.” 

Lucas laughed with her, shoving her attacking legs away with ease. “Hey hey do you want me to braid your hair or not? I can’t do that if you break a rib.” 

Despite his words, the broad grin never left his face, and he never waited for an answer before Lucas was wrapping an arm around Aria’s waist and tugging her around to face the opposite wall, sitting in between his legs again but this time with her back to his chest. 

“Do you have a hair brush and a few hair ties?”

Aria nodded, reaching over the bed with a hand on Lucas’ knee to grab the aforementioned items off her bedside locker. She handed them back to him, before settling herself comfortably on the bedspread. 

True to his word, Lucas was actually quite good at braiding - Aria was nearly sure he was lying but the three even strands of hair didn’t slowly become a tangled ball of mess as he worked his way down her hair. In all honestly, it was quite relaxing, letting someone else brush out her hair as she sank deeper into the duvet cover as he braided the strands together with ease. 

Even despite Lucas’ hands calmingly carding through her hair though, Aria still shuffled back and forth, rolling her shoulders every now and again. At first, Lucas’ had deigned to ignore her small twitching, but after the seventh time she rolled her shoulders and nearly knocked the strands out of his hand, he stopped.

“Sh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re wriggling and it’s throwing me off.”

“Oh.” Aria looked at her hands. “Sorry, its just the hood - the tag is scratchy and its annoying.” 

“Ah,” Lucas nodded. “It kinda looks like someone tried to cut it off not gonna lie.” 

“It’s not mine, so I don’t care but it’s just annoying.”

“You want to take it off?” 

Aria froze a little, before deliberately untensing her muscles. Now would be the worst time to work herself back up, especially right after relaxing so much. But she wasn’t sure if she could take off her hoodie, the top she was wearing didn’t cover enough of her back, the scooping backline stretched out after years of wear.

“Riri?” Lucas’ voice prompted her out of her thoughts. 

“Hm? Oh- oh no it’s ok,” she fumbled, rubbing at the irritated skin on the back of her neck with a hand. “You’re almost done anyway, right?”

“I still have the other braid to do.” Lucas’ voice was confused now, hands resting on her shoulders. True to his word, only one of the two braids were completed, half of Aria’s hair pulled back neatly with the other half splayed across her shoulder. 

“Oh.” 

Reluctantly, Aria pulled herself out of Lucas’ hold slightly, turning to face him. “Yeah no that’s fine. I’ll just, grab a towel to cover my shoulders? So I don’t get my clothes wet.” 

Aria let out a breath of relief when Lucas’ nodded at her, seeming unsuspicious of her quick shift in mood. She slid off the bed gently, only letting her feet touch the floor briefly before she was reaching forward and snatching the towel from the adjacent bed.

Sneaking a short glance towards Lucas and seeing him distracted, she pulled  the hoodie quickly over her head. Aria wrapped the towel over her shoulders before he had time to look over at her, and held the two ends closely together as she shuffled back into the space Lucas had created again for her. 

He hummed at her, before resuming his methodic braiding process, fingers gentle and hands pushing her head to the side. Unlike before however, Aria couldn’t find it in herself to relax, fingers gripping the towel’s ends closely together in an iron grip. She was so concentrated on ensuring the towel hadn’t flipped up to expose her back, Aria missed the short double pat Lucas gave the top of her head to tell her she was done.  

In fact, she was so concentrated on making sure the towel didn’t slip from her grasp, Aria jerked away from Lucas when she felt him tug gently on the now soaked material. 

Lucas instantly moved away, hands held up. “Woah, chill. I just don’t want you to get sick, the towel is wet.”

Aria nodded, not really listening and moving to shuffle away from Lucas but he had mistaken her nod as an affirmative, hands pulling more insistently on the soaked material. 

This time, the towel slipped from Aria’s grasp, the same moment a gasp left Lucas’ mouth.

Time seemed to slow for a moment, ice trickling down Aria’s back, almost mocking her. She could feel the air around them drop several degrees, the happy, content atmosphere replaced with something else - something cold, something that seeped beneath your skin and stayed there. The air-conditioning didn’t help, goosebumps raising along the newly exposed skin, partially tanned but for the most part covered in purple and blue and green mottled colours. 

Bruises.

Everywhere.

Aria heard more than felt Lucas’ hands clench, an audible crack coming from his knuckles. His hands had retracted from Aria’s sides where they were before, bringing them to his sides in fists. 

“Aria.” Cold. 

No response.

“Aria.” A little more insistent this time.

Still, no response.

“Aria. Where did all those bruises come from?”

Aria inhaled sharply for what felt like the first time in hours. With a single intake of breath, time sped up to meet her, and she scrambled out from between Lucas’ legs, giggling nervously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, shaking her head. Her hands were already reaching for the discarded hoodie - itchy tag be damned - but Lucas had longer limbs and was a good deal faster. 

He snatched the hoodie from the end of the bed, standing up as Aria shifted her weight onto her back foot. Her eyes were looking over his shoulder, no matter how much he stared at her.

“Aria. What happened?”

She was wringing her hands in front of her, shuffling back and forth. “I - I can’t, it’s fine - it’s fine Lucas, don’t - don’t worry okay?”

Aria made towards the door, hoping that maybe she could crash in Taeyong’s room for the night, but Lucas’ hand on the doorknob dashed that idea into smithereens. His face was dark, darker than she’d ever seen it and when he turned to look at her his eyes were filled with a type of anger she hadn’t known he’d been capable of feeling.

“Miyazu Akari you tell me right now, what’s going on.” His voice was firm, body tense. “Is someone - Is someone hurting you?”

Aria froze for the nth time of the night. A disbelieving laugh broke its way out of her lips. “Oh, oh god no Lucas - that’s not what this is, I- I promise.”

Lucas only dropped his hand from the doorknob, coming to crouch in front of Aria on the floor. 

When had she sat on the floor? 

His face was stony, and Aria wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Was he angry at her? She wasn’t lying, he was just assuming things that weren’t true. She knew it looked like that, that’s why she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about it - she knew that this reaction was unavoidable without someone else there to back her up - oh god why did this have to happen right now, Aria was tired and she wanted to go to sleep but Lucas was still looking at her - his face was less stony now but Aria was too panicked to figure out what that meant - yes he’s definitely angry at her, please don’t let him get the hyungs, she’ll never talk her way out of it then, oh god oh god- 

“Riri,” his voice was quiet now, the fire in his eyes poorly masked by worry. “Riri, it’s okay. It’s okay, but I need you to breath. Can you do that for me? Can you breath?”

When had she stopped? 

Aria’s lungs expanded with a gasp, and she coughed on the first intake of air. Lucas only rubbed her back, tucking her face into his neck as she coughed her way through several more breaths - not letting go until he was sure her breathing had evened out again. 

Pulling back, Lucas’ eyes bored into hers, both hands on either side of her face to make sure she couldn’t look away. His legs were bent uncomfortably underneath himself, but he payed no mind to the ache in his knees. 

“Riri, it’s okay. If something’s happening it’s okay but I need you to tell me what’s happening so I can help. Or so I can get someone else to help. Who’s doing this?”

“No - no one,” Aria choked out, throat tight. Her hand banged against her chest as if to kickstart her lungs again. “It’s no one, it’s not that.” 

Lucas looked at her like she was lying. He definitely thought she was. 

God damn it, this was not how she wanted it to come out. 

“Aria you can trust me, I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you to -” Lucas began, being cut off by Aria.

“No, no I’m not. I’m not being hit by anyone, I promise, Lucas.” she looked him in the eye. “I promise.”

“Then what is going on?” 

Aria looked down again. “I just bruise easily, you know that.”

Lucas scoffed slightly, “I know you bruise easily Aria, but you literally look like you were body slammed into a wall.” 

A moment of silence. A flicker of horror. 

“Were you body slammed into a wall?”

“NO!” Aria near shouted, hands coming to cover her mouth in a gasp immediately afterwards. Both of them stilled, carefully listening out for any stirring of the other members.  

After a few seconds, hearing nothing, Aria allowed herself to relax minutely. Downside of hotel rooms meant thin walls, so it was truly a miracle that Aria’s shout hadn’t woken the others.

“I can promise you, no one is listening to us right now. So I need you to be honest with me, Riri.” Lucas’ voice had lost the cold edge to it, now filled with warmth and worry, like sickly sweet honey. 

Aria wanted to gag. She knew she couldn’t lie to him, not directly to his face.

“Can you please- I’ll explain in the morning. I’m tired, I’ll explain in the morning,” she tried.

“We have schedules all day tomorrow, I know full well you’ll avoid me all day and then room with someone else,” he countered. 

Aria could pick up the hurt radiating from his body. He thinks you don’t trust him.

She bit her lip, not letting go until the pink skin ripped beneath her teeth and the taste of iron filled her mouth. Damn, that was going to take forever to close.

“Lucas, I’m fine. I swear to you, I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m not buying it. Not when your back looks like that.”

Ok. Half truths.

“Remember the last practice I had with Dream before we left on tour?” Aria’s voice was unintentionally smaller, but she thought it might work in her favour - something proved correct when Lucas leant forwards on his knees. 

He said nothing, only nodded to assure her she was listening. 

“Well. Okay you have to promise you won’t get mad at anyone.”

“I promise.” 

That was absolutely too quick, he was so going to get mad. 

“Jeno and I, were. Messing, right? And- and he picked me up, like the way you guys do all the time, except this time he knew I was kinda down about leaving - just because I was going to miss them, yaknow? - and so when he picked me up, he was real careful about it don’t get me wrong but he picked me up and I don’t really remember what happened because it all happened so fast but-”

“Breathe.”

Aria took in a gulp of air. “Sorry.” 

Lucas nodded at her. It was rare to see him so serious. Aria hated it. 

“Jeno, like, flipped me? Over his shoulder, the fireman carry thingy. But he lost his grip and I think I slid or he tried to catch me and flipped me over fully but. I just kinda remember looking up at the practice room ceiling with my back really hurting.”

Silence. 

It hung in the air like something tangible, like you could take a knife to it. 

Aria wanted to.

“So. You’re telling, me, that you look like you got the life kicked out of you, because Jeno flipped you over his shoulder?”

Aria winced. “Yes.”

“That happened nearly two weeks ago, Riri. The bruises should have faded by now.” His voice was torn, like he wanted to believe her but there were too many questions left unanswered. 

“Well I-”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Lucas whipped his head over to her. 

Aria couldn’t meet his gaze, pulling at the hangnail on her right hand. “I knew it would land Jeno in trouble, and it wasn’t that big of a deal-” 

“Aria your back is black and blue-”

“I knew people were going to overreact and-”

“I’m not overreacting I’m just worried-”

Aria held up her hand, halting the conversation in its tracks. 

“Lucas.” the boy nodded slowly, giving her his full attention. 

“Lucas, I swear to you. I swear, you know I’d come to you if something was wrong. You know I would.” Aria began, voice soft. Her good hand crept forwards to hold Lucas’.

“I bruise easily, you know this. You once threw a cushion at me and nearly gave me a black eye.” Aria reminded him ruefully. “My back, is because I fell; which is Not Jeno’s Fault. We were both clumsy, and we both should have been more careful, but it was a mistake, and I’m fine.”

“But still, why didn’t you tell us?” Lucas cut in.

“You know exactly what Taemin-oppa is like when it comes to worrying. I think he would have made me sit the entire two weeks out. And you reacted like this, how would I have explained this to Baekhyun and Jongin-oppa? They would have taken the entire staff team hostage to interrogate them as to what happened.” 

“Isn’t that, like. Illegal?” 

“Potentially.”

Lucas laughed. It was a nice sound, a sound that rang out through the stale-atmosphere in the room. It brushed away the tension, only leaving that in Lucas’ shoulders and the worry creased into his eyebrows. 

Aria shuffled closer to Lucas, both still sitting cross-legged on the floor. She tucked herself into his arms, knowing that it was both for her comfort and for his. 

“I’m right here, Xuxi. No one’s done anything to me. I’m right here.”

Lucas exhaled quietly, arms tightening around Aria’s body minutely. She could tell he was being mindful of her back now - the presence of the bruises still fresh in his mind. A few words were muttered into her hair, muffled.

Aria hummed, pulling away slightly.

“You trust me right?” Lucas’ voice was wavering slightly.

“110%.”

“Okay. Okay, okay. That’s okay. You’re okay.” Lucas seemed more like he was talking to himself moreso than anything else. 

“We’re okay.”

“Ari-ah?”

“Yes?” 

Aria padded into the kitchen, seeing Taeyong standing there with a small white box in his hands. He turned, and upon seeing her - held out the box for her to take. 

Aria nodded in understanding, hands moving to take the box of medication from her leader’s grip. She turned it over in her hand, eyes scanning the blue label before she looked back up to Taeyong’s eyes. 

They were kind, but around the edges there was a small colouring of pity. 

Aria hated that he gave her the same look each month. 

Nodding in thanks, she spun on her heel, going to put the box in the far corner of her chest of drawers.

On the box, the letters:

 DDAVP, vWF 

[aellynera]

Enumerate (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

ENUMERATE

(hey hey. this is one of my submissions for @wasicskosgirl​ and her 800 follower celebration! congrats on your milestone, lovely! i wrote this in one sitting, which i rarely ever do, but the idea was immediate and persistent so this happened. i just made some final edits, and it was a lot of fun to do and i hope you all enjoy it!)

Word Count: ~1750 

Summary: You have a question for Nathan. He wants reasons. You have a secret weapon.

Warnings: Some language. Innuendo. Smooches. Nathan Bateman. No actual plot, just a thing. Hopefully decently proofread. Superheroes.

with the prompt - “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Nathan Bateman glares at you over his glasses. Or, he would if he bothered to actually turn his attention away from the monitors in front of him, which, of course, he does not.

On the other side of the room, you’re stretched out on the bed, on your stomach with your legs bent up and ankles crossed behind you, lazily flipping through a magazine.

For once it’s not a technical journal; you’d finally put your foot down a few months ago, told Nathan you’d had enough of the esoteric mumbo-jumbo he kept all over the house, and after a few pleas and a little please, he’d caved. He might make a case that, until now, these celebrity gossip rags were a worse idea, but he can’t bring himself to do it. As a thank you, you always make sure to hand him his favorite one when you’re done with it.

You briefly debate arguing that building an AI and pissing it off so much it thought it had no other recourse than to try to escape and then stab you in the chest is probably a worse idea, but you don’t want to actually fight with him. And you’re not mean.

“I don’t know, I think it would be fun,” you call back to him.

The clicking of the keyboard never stops. He gets so involved in his work sometimes - okay, all the time, if you’re being honest - that nothing else seems to matter. You knew it isn’t really true; the fact that you’re on the bed wearing nothing besides one of his old, soft henleys and a pair of wool socks proves that. The ability to occasionally engage him in actual conversation while his mind blazes through lines of code is rare.

“I’m pretty sure we have different definitions of that word.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they more than occasionally overlap.”

He scans your voice for any hint of sarcasm, any tinge of facetiousness. When he can’t detect any and can’t determine your actual intent, his eyes narrow.

“Enumerate.”

Well, sort of actual conversation.

You toss the magazine aside and sit up on the bed.

“And for every step you take towards me, I want a good reason, not some bullshit half-answer,” he continues. Still typing away, still staring at his screens.

“How do you even know I was going to walk over there?” you mutter.

“I know your operating system, kitten,” he says, “so. Enumerate. And count those steps for me. I know you’re good at counting.” If he’d bother to look at you, you’d see the slight smirk on his face, but it doesn’t matter. You hear it in his voice. You know he’s mostly teasing you.

Then again, if Nathan bothered to turn around to look at you, he’d also see the giant, exaggerated steps you’re taking on the path to his desk. It isn’t very far from bed to desk. Nathan is nothing if not efficient, and one never knows when inspiration or insomnia will strike or you might need quick data access.

But you have a secret weapon and you are going to deploy it with as little delay as possible.

The secret weapon has never failed you before.

You roll your eyes. Smug asshole. “One. It gets us out of the house.”

“We have everything we need right here. Hardly a compelling reason. Try again.”

Another giant step. “Two. A little human interaction, other than verbally sparring with me and taking me on every imaginable surface of this house, would do you some good.”

The clicking might pause for a split second. You can’t be sure because it picks up and keeps going just as it had before, as Nathan replies, “False correlation. I hate most people, in large part because they can’t keep up with me. Not like the way you do.”

You smile, even though he can’t see you, and open your mouth to keep going, but he’s not quite done. “And, if I remember correctly, and I always remember correctly-” you swear you hear his eyebrow arch “-that other part does us both some good. You haven’t had any complaints thus far, and a few of those surfaces were actually rather un-imaginable. You gotta try harder, baby.”

Damn him.

Another step, another reason. “Three. It’s what normal people do.”

The clicking finally stops and Nathan spins around in his chair. He takes you in - one foot as far out in front of the other as possible without you falling over, arms held out awkwardly to keep your balance, wearing only his shirt and your fuzzy socks, hair still a mess from the evening’s previous activities - and gives you a pointed look. “That’s what normal people do?”

You giggle, then straighten your face. You take another step. Now you’re almost in his lap. “Four. You’d look really, really hot in some spandex and a cape.”

Nathan growls and pulls you into his lap. “I said no bullshit.”

There’s your opening. Secret weapon time.

You bite your lip and give him the widest, saddest looking eyes you possibly can. You think of lost puppies and kittens, the ending of Casablanca, that song in Coco that had you bawling. And you blink once, very slowly, just for dramatic effect. Not that you need to. Your trap is set.

Nathan groans and drops his head to your chest for a moment, and then looks back up at you, scowling under his glasses. “Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

You grin down at him. “You’re not.”

“God damn it.”

“Nathan, it will be fun,” you insist.

In response, he stands suddenly, scoops you up and tosses you back on the bed, his body caging you underneath him.

“You really want me to go to, of all the fucking things in the entire known universe, a comic con with you.” It’s not a question.

“Well, I mean, you did already buy me the tickets.”

“Beginning to regret that decision,” the resignation in his voice is strong, but you can also hear some amusement. And maybe something a little more.

You pout at him. “And my sister can’t go with me now because of some stupid emergency work thing.”

His brow furrows. “Like I don’t have actual work to do?”

“And it would be a shame to waste them…,” You blink at him a few more times.

“I’ll donate them to a children’s charity or some shit.”

You smack him lightly on the shoulder, then your arms wrap around his neck as you lean forward and whisper in his ear. “And I still say you’d look amazing in a super suit.”

“Bull. Shit,” he leans up and nips at your neck.

You smack him harder this time. “Hey, those are good reasons.”

“Will it make you happy?” he sighs.

“Yes.”

He pauses for a few minutes with his face buried in your neck, then pulls back to look at you. His stern expression cracks, ever so slightly, at the hopeful smile on your face. And those damn puppy dog eyes. “You do make a compelling argument.”

You squeal in delight, holding his face and kissing him firmly on the lips.

“But...people. A lot of people. In public,” Nathan grumbles, narrowing his eyes and giving you the fakest stern look he’s ever given you.

He knows you know he was never going to say no to you. He can’t. He may know your operating system, but his own systems fail when you run this particular subset.

And the secret weapon never fails.

You smirk back, your grin and the light in your eyes threatens to throw his brain completely offline.

“That’s where the costume comes in, Mr. Fantastic.”

Nathan scoffs. “If I have to wear a costume, it is not going to be Mr. fucking Fantastic.”

“So you’re saying you will dress up.”

“No, but...there’s better options than that.” A lie. He was serious about being seen by thousands of people in public, and at this point, he’s not above wearing a ridiculous costume just so no one actually sees him at a fucking comic con.

“Isn’t he, like, the smartest superhero though?”

He pretends to think about it for a minute, lazily tracing a finger along your jaw. “True, but. What else does he do? I mean I know I’m flexible but…”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to not burst into a fit of laughter as you stare back into his deep eyes. “Okay, fine. What about Wonder Woman? I’d do almost anything to see you with some golden wings. And those boots? Damn, that would be hot.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a menace.”

“You haven’t had any valid complaints thus far.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, then sighs. “Almost anything, huh?” His hands have dropped down your torso, and his fingertips are gliding over your smooth skin under the hem of his shirt.

You can see the wheels start turning. Your lips purse and a smile forms. “Don’t change the subject,” you chide him. “What are your other better options, then?”

“Xavier. You could push me around for the day, it would serve you right for even asking me to do this.”

The laughter rises fully and bubbles over. “Even you’re not that lucky.”

“Or maybe Iron Man. I know I could make a working suit, and that would be pretty fucking cool,” he states, matter of fact. You’re honestly not sure if you should be amused or a little worried that he’s not kidding.

“Those are definitely better options than Mr. Fantastic,” he says softly.

You raise your head up to catch his lips, but stop just before you make contact. He makes a small noise of protest, but you just shake your head ever so slightly.

“Hmm, I’m not convinced,” you whisper, your breath fanning across his mouth. “I need some good reasons. No bullshit, Bateman.”

Nathan’s groans are silenced as you surge forth and capture his lips, kissing him fiercely and thoroughly. But his silence is only temporary, and the groans return when you pull away and hook a leg around his hip.

He stares down at you as you look back at him with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen, and you smile innocently and bite your lip. He bites his own as you softly issue one more word into the air around you.

“Enumerate.”

~end~

Taglist:  @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee  @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Nathan taglist:  @millllenniawrites​

>>taglist form available here<<

[bulletproofscales]

wrote a wg-dysphoria fic for comfort purpouses

it is very cliche and kind of a word dump and kinda has no plot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32177632

Tags: FtM hobi, trans man hoseok , insecurities , weight gain and gender disphoria , gender discomfort , hurt comfort , chubby jung hoseok , namseok , literally pure fluff

1.8k

Hoseok doesn't understand himself most times. Or more specifically, on days like this. Where the mere thought of feeling his body resting against the mattress is cringe inducing. But not as bad as the idea of leaving his bed, starting his day, going outside.

He and Namjoon had plans. Plans that they've been looking forward to for weeks, waiting until they both had a completely free day all to themselves. Hoseok can't just stop everything because he woke up feeling like a gross sack of skin, meat and bones. The entire day was planned to their liking too: favorite restaurants, hiding spots in the city, places to shop, and ending the day probably going back to Namjoon's just to hold each other until the next morning. Nothing too special, really.

They loved the domesticity of days like this.

Hoseok should feel excited right now.

He musters to stand up, and just pushes through normally. Yes, he is a responsible adult and doesn't have to stop his entire life because of some mental turbulence. It's easy for the most part, these days he always wakes up hungry. It's all good until he has to get dressed…

See? It was Hoseok's idea after a few months of dating, to start gaining weight. Thinking, if he grew enough, the parts of his body where weight settled the most would become less noticeable. No matter how slim he was before, there was no escaping the personalized curse that seemed to settle all of his weight at his hips and thighs.

And gaining weight worked! Namjoon was on board with any idea that would help his boyfriend feel more comfortable, and Hoseok found himself feeling genuinely better in his own skin.

Yet... he could barely have the courage to undress right now. Let alone try on something to wear for today, knowing everyone was going to see him on it. Today, it felt as though the plumpness did nothing to hide his body the way Hoseok wanted it to. All he could focus on now, was the fact that if he left with Namjoon today, everyone was going to think Hoseok was his girlfriend.

The thought alone makes it harder to swallow. The roundness all over his body whIch he had come to love, the thickness of his legs that hid his butt. The fat that piled on his torso hiding the curve of his waist and taking attention away from his chest. Even his hands, which had grown a little chubby, were perfect to hide the daintiness in them. All of that on a day like this, just seemed to amplify the pear form that his body grudgingly took in spite of him.

His hands rub at his hips, soft and squishy to the touch, but Hoseok wouldn't dare touch. Only Namjoon gets to touch them without making the older tense up in discomfort; the only thing that makes the squishing of the fat bearable is the deep voice that always comes after it, pouring praise to Hoseok's ear making his shiver in the best of ways.

He doesn't know how he'd react if Namjoon was to touch him now, though. Hell, he didn't know how the younger would react to Hoseok's poor excuse. That's a lie, he knows Namjoon will be nothing but accepting if he so much as suspects his boyfriend is having a bad dysphoria day.

But it doesn't make the guilt go away.

So he pushes it down, rather grabbing something that will cover his body at all, even if it won't hide the parts he doesn't want to see. At least it won't show so much skin.

Hoseok is trying outfit number 6 by the time the doorbell rings. Absolutely not prepared to greet his boyfriend, Hoseok takes one last disgusted look at himself in the mirror before rushing to the door.

"Hey." Namjoon tries to say subtly, but the grin on his face is so wide and eager, it grips at Hoseok's heart. Guilty as he smiles back. "You ready?" He has to slightly look up to meet Namjoon's face; brain unhelpfully reminding him of just how tall his boyfriend is, how masculine he is without even trying.

Ugh, there's no way he is getting through today, is there?

"About that..." Hoseok's smile turns sad, apologetic. Heart breaking at the way Namjoon's expressions drops. "I don't think I feel like I can handle going out today..." He fiddles with his own hands.

"Oh...'' That's Namjoon's own response, and Hoseok understands the disappointment. Can only imagine how tiring it must be to have to cut not only their daily life, but plans they've been looking forward to for weeks, just because Hoseok doesn't feel good about himself that day. He probably thinks the only way for him to progress is to push himself to go out and live despite the dysphoria, to suck it up; maybe even doing that would be the masculine thing to do.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Seok-ah." The voice that speaks is so gentle, though. Warm hands cupping at his soft cheeks. He doesn't manage to answer, rather looking at Namjoon with wide, anxious eyes. "Lets go inside, yeah?" He smiles softly, hands settling at his shoulders before guiding Hoseok back into his own house.

It definitely feels like Namjoon isn't as upset as he should be, being unfair to himself and too kind to Hoseok's dysphoric taunturm. But the older doesn't know if he wants to bring it up, just in case he changes Namjoon's mind. He has to, though.

"It's not that big of a deal J-Joon, we can still go out, I just need to find something to wear." He tries to reassure as Namjoon guides him to the couch. However, the younger has known Hoseok for far too long to buy that.

"If you start feeling better, then we can go out." He smiles innocently, gentle; but knowing fully well that Hoseok was just trying to belittle his experiences.

A weak smile shapes Hoseok's lips into a heart. "It's not fair how you use your knowledge of me against me." He complains, though it has absolutely no bite to it.

"You can't stop me." Namjoon grins back smugly, sitting beside Hoseok and leaning for their lips to meet. The older sighs in defeat; he's lost.

Yet it feels absolutely nothing like losing. At all.

"Fine, but I want your hoodie." He demands, bratty. Hoseok would feel guilty about it if Namjoon didn’t immediately comply with all his commands. Eagerly pushing his hoodie off, silver of tan skin showing as his shirt rides up along with it; which Hoseok absolutely does Not stare at. An quickly snatches it off his hands, before sliding it on his own.

Probably, stealing your boyfriend’s hoodie which fits significantly bigger on him, would be considered a femenine thing to do. But Hoseok will be damned if he doesn't let his nose sink into the fabric and immediately melt at Namjoon’s scent. Only enhanced by Namjoon’s arms, wrapping around his shoulders.

Hoseok never told him to do it, but on days like this Namjoon makes sure to keep his hands off the parts he knows his boyfriend is insecure about. He appreciates it, even if the idea of wrapping his chubby arms around Namjoon’s thick waist seems silly considering their different bodies. But it does make him feel masculine, so he guesses the younger’s strategy works perfectly; as they cuddle closer on Hoseok's couch.

The silence is comfortable for a while, Namjoon tucks his head into Hoseok’s shoulder, as the older gets to caress the warm skin at Namjoon’s lower back.

But oh, Hoseok could never be so lucky.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Namjoon’s voice whispers into the older’s soft neck. And he can only sigh, parly endeared, and partly annoyed.

His boyfriend is so caring. Too caring

“Do I have to?” He groans, and Namjoon takes it as his cue to tangle his fingers gently through the hairs of Hoseok’s nape; soothing.

“I’m asking if you want to, silly.” The older doesn't have to look to know Namjoon is rolling his eyes.

“Nothing happened in particular, cus I know you are worrying about that.” Hoseok grins at the way he feels his boyfriend's body sigh relaxed at that reassurance. “I just woke up feeling this.”

“You better not be using the fact that ‘nothing happened’ as a way to invalidate your feelings.” He scolds gently.

“And you better not be using your knowledge of me against me!” Hoseok whines in an attempt to lighten the mood, and pats his own back when he hears Namjoon’s laughter against his neck.

“I mean it, hyung.” He raises his head from the safe space of Hoseok’s neck; who’s still trying to get past the flips of his stomach at the sound of Namjoon calling him ‘hyung’. “I wouldn’t spend our free day any other way.” And as if to seal the deal, he lands a gentle peck onto Hoseok's nose.

He feels it in his chest, the bursting love he feels for this man. How his body doesn’t feel squirmy at the feeling of his body against Namjoon, just from having him close, having him be treated with such...normality.

It feels like he is broken out of a transe with the movements of Namjoon’s hands at his shoulders. “Y-you know… You don’t have to avoid touching me.” He chuckles a bit nervously.

“O-oh.” His expression grows bashful. “I don’t actually know like--I don’t want to make you uncomfortable!” He whines.

“Namjoon you’re like three times my height, it is not comfortable. You can touch my hips.” It even manages to burst giggles out of Hoseok’s chest.

“Okay, okay.” The younger chuckles as well, as he begins to untangle his arms off Hoseok’s shoulders. And they rather find a comfier route settled at the plush of his hips. And it always feels unfamiliar the first time; as if Hoseok avoids and ignores them so much that they only exist with Namjoon’s gentle squeezing.

His eyes close, as the younger kneads the pillowy skin. Hoseok doesn't realize he is humming until a chuckle bubbles out of Namjoon’s chest. Soft body entirely melted against Namjoon’s firmer one. “You should’ve just told me you needed this.”

“It's hard to admit I need it sometimes, the gentler touches.” The older speaks softly, as Namjoon’s hands rub up and down the curve of Hoseok’s waist, thumbs caressing at the sides of his belly.

“Aish, you speak like I’m not gentle with you ever.” Namjoon groans quietly, rolling his eyes. His hands squeeze at Hoseok’s waist unaware. And okay, he does not mind this.

“I know I know. But I overthink everything when I get like this, you know that.” He cups the younger’s face, whining softly. “I like it though.. I just feel like I might not deserve it sometimes.” He confesses with an apologetic smile.

But Namjoon doesn’t falter, still grinning with so much love. “That’s alright, I love reminding you.” He leans to Hoseok’s hand still cupping his cheek, kissing it.

[frostedfaves]

Haunt (4)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Opening up with Wanda comes with more of a consequence than you’re prepared for.

Warnings: angst, discussion of grief and death, car crash mention, hospital, blood, graphic visions, ghosts/demons

A/N: I’m trying not to rush to the most intense part of the plot but please tell me if the story’s moving too slowly! feedback like that is veryyy helpful. also please check out my pinned post! I’m not writing any until I finish this series but I’m accepting them at all times!

Previous part

-

“What are you thinking about?”

Truthfully, Wanda was thinking about last night. About the way you seemed to open up and invite her into your heart, share your fears and desires in a way that showed a level of trust she was honored to have. Until something happened and you were suddenly building walls around yourself that Fort Knox would be jealous of, and this time, that ‘something’ was a nightmare.

A loud gasp startled Wanda awake, even more when she turned over to see you sitting up in bed and breathing heavily. She pulled herself up and placed a hand on your back, scolding herself for acting so quickly when you jumped under her touch.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she informed you, hoping the two of you were at a place where saying this would mean something.

“Sorry, I just...sorry,” you apologized breathlessly.

“It’s okay, babe. It was just a dream,” she assured you, a small smile growing on her lips as she felt you relaxing against her palm’s circular motion.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

You climbed out of the bed and left the room, closing the door behind you. She hated the silence that followed your exit, because it seemed to make her worry more than the moments you spent panicking in front of her for a reason she was afraid to ask for. She checked her phone four times while you were gone, and only three minutes passed until you returned with two glasses of water and one fake smile.

“Nothing,” Wanda tried to convince you, and you put your fork down with a sigh.

“I’m sorry if I scared you last night. I probably should’ve warned you that I have at least one nightmare a week.”

“Everyone has nightmares.” She reached across the table for your hand. “I just wish you wouldn’t hide yourself from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You came back in the room last night like I’m supposed to believe you’re suddenly okay after waking up in the way you did. I want you to be able to talk to me and trust me, which you do sometimes, but then something just seems to reverse all the progress we made.”

She watched as your eyes watered slightly and your shoulders seemed to sag. On one hand, she worried that she’d gone too far, pushed too hard and now you were about to crack under the pressure, and on the other she hoped (and feared) you just might be ready to give her answers. Then your phone rang. You ignored it the first time, but the caller was persistent.

“I should probably take this,” you sighed as you pulled the device from your pocket and Wanda watched you leave the room as quickly as last night.

-

You stopped abruptly on your way back to the dining table, growing a bit worried at the sight of Wanda’s abandoned plate. Seeing her tying her shoes by the apartment door with an unreadable expression was much more terrifying.

“Why are you leaving?”

“I thought maybe you could use some space,” she explained calmly as she stood up again. “I want to know more about you, but I don’t want you to feel cornered every time I ask you a question.”

“Wait!” you called as she went to grab the doorknob, rushing over to grab her other hand. “My best friend died in a car crash.”

There seemed to be a bubble surrounding the chair you were in, keeping the chaos of the emergency department far away from the corner of the waiting room you’d chosen to hide away. The ringing of phones sounded distant and voices muffled, until one seemed clearer than ever.

“Y/N?” 

The voice belonged to the older sister of your best friend, the girl you actually wanted to be with. Of course, there was no way she’d even consider dating you now. She’ll probably hate you until the day she dies when she realizes that you killed--

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Is she dead?” 

You attempted to clear the dryness from your throat as you looked into her watery eyes, sitting right above her glistening cheeks that answered your question before her nodding did. You felt sick, empty-headed and overwhelmed with thoughts at the same time, and it didn’t help that you were now holding hands with your crush as she sat beside you.

“The driver was high. I forgot the name of the drug, but it sounded like something that should not have been in his system while he was driving.” She paused to clean the tear tracks and took a deep breath. “I just want you to know that it’s not your fault, okay? There’s nothing you could’ve done to fix this.”

“I could’ve said ‘I love you’ more.” You dropped your gaze to watch your feet kick against the chair legs. “She thought I didn’t care about her and we were arguing about it just before the crash. If I’d shown her more appreciation, we wouldn’t be arguing and maybe I would’ve seen that driver before he hit us.”

“Y/N, you can’t--”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay.” Her thumb rubbed against your knuckles and your stomach flipped violently. “Did you call your family?”

“They wouldn’t have even come if I did.” You pulled your hand away and got up to leave the hospital, feeling grateful for the fresh air you were greeted with that calmed your nausea enough to drive home.

“She was my favorite person in the world, and her family was there for me when no one else was. I feel like I let them all down by not keeping her safe that night, and the guilt has been heavy in my heart ever since.”

“So that’s why you have nightmares once a week and make people who care about you promise not to get too close to you?” Wanda asked quietly as she squeezed your hand, coming closer to wrap her arms around you when you nodded. “Thank you for telling me this, and I hope you know I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Not even to your house for clothes?” you quipped, laughing as she made a jokingly frustrated noise. “I have a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Did I pass Pietro’s test last night?” You pulled back a bit to look into her eyes. “I have to assume he’s as protective over you as you are with him.”

“Considering he sent me links to wedding dresses this morning, I think it’s safe to say you did,” she answered you with a chuckle. “Although I think anyone would be a step up after what I dealt with last year.”

“Okay, you have to tell me about this crazy ex of yours!”

“I will, I promise!” she laughed as she fully pulled away from the embrace, keeping hold of your hands as she did so. “But first, I’d like to finish that wonderful meal you made, right after I apologize for almost ditching it.”

So you returned to the dining room table and she waited with an authentic grin as you disappeared into the kitchen to reheat the food on your plates. Your late breakfast passed without incident, and you went with Wanda to check on Alexei again, deciding to join the mother-son duo for a walk in the afternoon sun. Everything felt warm and light again as you went around the block hand in hand, but a quiet voice in the back of your mind told you something was wrong before the one just behind your ear.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

Hearing the words for the first time since your dream startled you, but you managed not to react more than slightly squeezing Wanda’s hand, which she was luckily too preoccupied with fawning over Alexei to notice in the moment. The voice seemed deeper than usual, more aggressive and less patient, and you wondered if you fucked up by telling Wanda the little amount that you did.

“Do you mind if I head home? I just remembered I have one last thing to finish for work tomorrow, and I’d rather get it done early.” Your voice shook slightly in the middle of your sentence, and you could tell she picked up on it by the way she frowned.

“Is everything okay? You’re not shutting down on me again, are you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just kinda nervous because I’m up for a promotion and this project could decide whether or not I get it.” Technically not a lie, but the ‘one thing’ you needed to finish would take five minutes at most.

“Okay, I won’t stop you then.” She tugged on your hand to pull you closer and smiled against your lips as she kissed you, causing you to do the same as she pulled away. “Text me before you go to sleep?”

“Of course.” You went to walk away and frowned slightly when she gripped your hand tighter. “What’s up?”

“Promise you’ll call if you need me tonight. Or any night.”

“I promise,” you told her after a few beats and leaned in to kiss her once more. “Don’t have too much fun without me, kids.”

You finally make your way home after giving Alexei a few goodbye scratches and close the apartment door behind you with a sigh as the familiar phrase floods your ears again. As promised, you finish your work task, but you don’t text or call Wanda when the voice in the corner of the room gets louder.

Instead, you close your eyes and get hit with a dizzying vision instantly. It comes in flashes, but you very clearly see yourself and a shadowy form on a bridge, and another flash brings you to the image of yourself on the street under that same bridge, bones broken and blood pouring. Your eyes fly open as you gasp loudly, and you don’t bother to hold back your scream when you catch sight of the dark figure that’s always been lurking in the corner of your eye. In the light of your bedroom, you could clearly see the battered and bruised body of your best friend slowly raising her damaged arm to point a finger at you.

And for the first time in her life (and death), she looked like she wanted to kill you.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do. Chapter 3

*Gif not mine*

Prologue  Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Sexual themes, talk about sex (not NSFW though), 

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N Y’all are really benefiting from my insomnia rn. I do have a plan to go back to my regular posting schedule but for right now enjoy the things starting to happen. Much love, Cia

       Chapter 3: The bugs and the dirt  

You’ve been on the team for about 6 months now, and you were loving it. Sure it was long hours, constant danger, and mounds of paperwork but you couldn’t be happier. You felt like you were doing what you were meant to do. The team had fully accepted you in the family around month 2. You and Morgan had become close after your “personal day” in October. He expressed that he knew what it was like to lose a parent and though he’d never understand losing both so quickly he offered you condolences and free drinks with him and Prentiss that night. Since then, the 3 of you have become good friends. 

There was always the occasional girls night with Emily, JJ, and Garcia, Dinner at Rossi’s and afternoon picnics with Hotch and Jack(which eventually just turned into you babysitting Jack while Aaron took a deserved nap). Your favorite however, was Saturday’s with Spencer. 

The two of you had fallen asleep that Friday night him and Garcia came over to watch Doctor Who. You woke up laid on top of him, legs tangled while your head was resting on his chest tucked under his chin. His arms were wrapped around you, hand resting heavily on the small of your back. You try to get up without waking him but of course you do, he startles awake in turn startling you causing you to fall off the couch. 

“Oh, Y/N,I’m so sorry--” He starts, immediately flushing. He stands to immediately help you up.

“No worries, Spen. Not made of glass.” You laugh. 

He blushes more at the new nickname. “Spen?” he asks. 

“Uh, yea.” You say. “Do you not like it?” 

“No-no, I like it.” He says. 

“Ok then.” You smile. “Do you have plans today?” He shakes his head. “Well, Saturday’s when I usually get coffee and work on homework at a cafe down the street, do you maybe wanna tag along?” you ask. He nods furiously. 

And every Saturday you guys had free since Spencer would meet you in the small cafe near your apartment. He would order an Americano with an ungodly amount of sugar and you would get a cold brew, despite it being winter still and you would sit and talk while you did work. Often he would help you with your thesis, telling you things you should add or consider. Sometimes you would just sit and talk about books you’ve both read or often you would explain the plots to various reality shows you know Spencer would never watch but he would sit and listen intently just like he did with everything you said. He treated every word that came out of your mouth like it was the most important thing in the world, treated every minuscule fact he learned about you, like it was treasured information to solving the mystery in front of him. You had become his personal cryptid. 

Of course the rest of the team had caught on to your Saturdays together, you worked with profilers and a very gossipy tech analyst. The amount of times you two had walked in together from being called in for a case last minute was enough to give you away. You thought back to a very uncomfortable conversation you had with Hotch one morning. You had come to drop off files JJ just pawned off to you to take upstairs. You held up your hand in a small wave walking into the office door. You put the files on his desk, starting to walk out when he stops you. 

“Y/N, we need to talk for a second. Close the door.” Hotch says. You nodded closing the door. You immediately tried to rattle off everything you’d done wrong to Hotch that could possibly warrant a talk. I forgot his coffee order that one time it was my turn, I missed Jack’s birthday once, I took a nap in the file room. You thought, all weren’t good but none warranted a closed door talk. 

“Yes, sir?” you ask, he gives you a weird look before it dissipates into his usual scowl,  neither of you used to the professional formalities still. 

“I’m sure you’re aware of the FBI’s fraternization policy.” He says. 

“Yes, sir…?” You say, not knowing where he was going with this. You weren’t fraternizing with anyone and no one knew that more than you except maybe your right hand. 

“Now there’s things I’d be willing to overlook as long as you don’t let it affect your work. But you would have to tell me and you would have to fill out an office relationship form--” 

“Whoa-wait a second.” you say. “What’re we talking about?” 

“If there’s something going on between you and Spencer you would have--”

“Hotch! There’s nothing going on between me an--What?” You say, you knew you had to be beet red right now. God this is humiliating. You thought.

“Really?” he said. 

“Yes! There’s nothing going on.” 

“But you guys have been together every week--” 

God, how did he even know that. “He’s helping me with my thesis, Hotch!” you exclaim, if this conversation continued you were going to be the same shade of red as the shirt you were wearing. “Why do you even know about that?” 

“Garcia.” he says, matter-of-factly. 

Of course, Garcia. 

 “Well, there’s nothing going on so now you can save the fraternization speech for someone else.” You move to stand. 

“You want there to be.” He points out. “Something going on, I mean.” 

“Oh my god. Aaron, I have a deep amount of respect for you and I revere you very much as a role model.” you say. “That being said, I will not be discussing my nonexistent love life with my boss! Jesus!” You exclaim. You see the smile ghosting his lips. He always enjoyed embarrassing you. “Can I leave now?” you asked. 

He nodded, waving his hand to dismiss you. You walk out of the office back to your desk, conveniently across from Spencer’s. 

“What did Hotch need?” He asked you. 

“Nothing!” You say instantly. Spencer just shrugged, returning to the file he had been reading.

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

Now you were here in the present, at a bar with the team celebrating the final results you had gotten back on your doctoral thesis. The Diploma hasn't come in the mail yet but it was official, you were officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. 

“To Dr. Y/N.” Garcia said, raising the shots Prentiss had just handed to you, Morgan and JJ. Rossi and Hotch raised their beers and Spencer clinked his water he’d been nursing to your shot glass. You smiled at her, before taking the shot quickly grimacing at the harshness of the alcohol. 

“Thanks, you guys.” You say, smiling widely. Your plan before to celebrate your doctorate had been to draw a bubble bath and try not to think of the student loans you’d accumulated. But of course Garcia being the genius and snoop that she was found out your results and insisted on a night out. 

“Y/N.” Emily said, getting your attention. “I think you should get the next round of drinks because that guy at the bar has been staring at you all night.” She said, leaning close to you to point at him. You look up to see a fairly built, tan man, with brown eyes and a well-maintenanced beard. Due to the amount of drinks you had and your inhibitions lowered, you smile at him automatically. He smiles back, lifting his drink to his mouth still looking at you. You look back down. 

“I don’t know, Emily.” You say, looking down at your mixed drink. 

“Come on, Y/N. We both know it’s been a while and you said you weren’t going to focus on that until you finished your doctorate.” Emily smirks, nudging you. “Now you’re finished so, come on, write him a prescription, Doc.” She laughs, inducing a few giggles from the rest of the group. Except for Rossi and Hotch who weren’t paying attention and Spencer, who seemed bothered but you didn’t know by what. 

“Hold on, mama, I have to know what a while means.” Derek says, laughing. 

“It means a while~”  Emily says, exaggerating the last word so that it was extra long. 

“Yea, a long~ while.” Garcia says, joining in, giggling all the while. 

“Ok, didn’t know you guys were moonlighting as comedians.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. You turn towards Derek, the alcohol clearly lowered your inhibitions enough to answer his question. “I mean, I went through the phase everyone went through in the first couple years of college. Partying, drinking, and unfortunately ending up in a frat guys bed, but after a while I realized that I had different goals then most of my peers so I put all my focus on getting my degrees. I’d say that was when I was what? 19?” You said, recalling. 

Morgan almost did a spit take, “6 years?” 

“Don’t make it sound so incredulous!” You say, drinking your mixed drink. “I was busy!” 

“Sounds like you and Pretty boy can start your own celibacy club!” Morgan says, patting Spencer back, laughing. 

“I’m not celibate, Morgan.” Reid says, rolling his eyes. 

“Pfft,” you blow a raspberry, incredulously. “When’s the last time you’ve gotten any?” Whoa, you had to have been drunk because you never would’ve asked anything like that sober. 

“It certainly hasn’t been 6 years.” He says back to you, smirking over his glass of water. 

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes. “Seriously, When?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

You would. 

You would very much like to know. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter because I’ll still be the last one after I go get that guy’s number.” You say, downing your drink for liquid courage before standing to go to the bar, towards the guy who had been looking at you before. Sure, your game was a little rusty but you were a profiler and now a doctor of psychology, men were...simple. 

Reid watched  you go, your hips swaying way more as they usually do as you sauntered towards the man her and Prentiss had been talking about before. He saw you smiling at the guy who had just purchased you another drink. You trailed a hand down the man’s chest, as he moved closer into your space. Spencer looked away, he was going to be sick if he kept watching that. 

“Hey, Emily, do you see that?” Garcia said.

“No, Penelope what is it?” She said indulging her. 

“It’s our friend, slowly turning into the green eyed monster.” Garcia said looking back to Reid, the table erupting in laughter. 

Reid leaned back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure, you don’t.” Emily says, rolling her eyes. “Look Spence, If you like her you should say something and if you don’t, you can’t get upset about her looking for something else out there.” Spencer didn’t say anything to that, opting to turn his attention back to you. He watched you laugh at something the guy had said and a smile crossed his face. That wasn’t your laugh, he knew your laugh. Your real laugh, and thanks to his eidetic memory he could (and did) replay it whenever he wanted. He knew your laugh and that wasn’t it. 

He watched as you sauntered back up to the group. He already had trouble focusing on anything that wasn’t your body most of the time and the dress you wore tonight didn’t make it any better. A simple, deep blue dress that held your curves perfectly with a large slit up the leg that was probably to make it easier to walk in though right now all it was doing was distracting Spencer. You slid into the both back next to Prentiss. 

“So…” Emily said, smiling. “How’d it go?”

“Oh, I got his number.” You say, nonchalantly. You knew you would, it’s not like regular men were a challenge to you. Every man wanted 2 things; to think they’re funny and to think they’re smart. 

“Nice!” She says, holding her hand out you instantly slap it with your own. “Are you going to call him?” 

“Probably not.” You shrug. “We’ll see if I get bored this week.” 

That causes all the girls in the group to giggle. The night continued, more drinks being put in your system by your friends who want you to truly celebrate. Eventually Rossi and Hotch leave, both hugging you tightly, Hotch whispering a quick “I’m proud of you” in your ear. You smile brightly back at him.

Towards closing time you all leave, you’re a little more sober than before but you’re definitely still tipsy. You all say your goodbyes, promises to see each other at work then Spencer stretches an arm around your waist, ushering you to his car as he agreed to be your DD before.    

He slides you into the seat before climbing in on the drivers side. 

“Thanks Spen, I know you hate driving.” You say, patting Spencer on the leg. 

“No problem, Y/N” He smiles back at you, before turning his attention back to the road. You notice your hands still on his leg. He hasn’t tried to move it or move away from it so the alcohol in your system decides to take a risk and inch your hand up his thigh. One of his hands leaves the steering wheel immediately grasping your hand. 

“Stop.” He says, not sounding entirely convinced that’s what he wants himself. So you ask. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You say, innocently. 

“Obviously, I don’t want you to stop but you’re not sober so you have to.” He says, moving your hand back to your own lap. You decide it’s probably best to concede and lean your head against the cool glass of the window as street lamps roll by. 

Eventually, you make it back to your house. You sigh before turning to Spencer. 

 “Thanks again, Spen.” You say, moving to grab  your bag and the door handle. “I’ll see you at work.” Before you can move fully, Long fingers are circling your wrist. 

“You shouldn’t call him.” He says. 

“What?” You say, dazed by the close contact between you two. 

“The guy from the bar. You shouldn’t call him.” He says. 

“Why not?” You ask. You know the answer, or you think you know the answer but you have to hear him say it. You need to hear him say it. 

“Because I-” He cuts himself off. “I don’t know.” he says, looking down very dejected. 

“Well…” You say. You lean close to him. You guys are close, so close if you wanted you could kiss him and you know he would let you by the way his eyes flutter, pupils dilating instantly when you do. “Will you tell me when you figure it out?” You ask. 

He nods, letting go of the wrist you forgot he was holding. 

“Well then.” You say, getting out of the car and leaning through the open window. “Goodnight, Dr. Reid.” You smile. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Y/L/N.” He smiles back, before driving into the night.

Taglist: @haylaansmi​     @yoruebeautiful​ @kianagilder-blog​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black​ @baby-banana​ @drreidshands​

[tuanyiems]

Cookies and Cream

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: annoyed by some (really just one) of your gratuitous “self-care” rituals, he decides to teach you a little lesson about indulgence, established relationship!au warnings – dom!gyeom, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing, overstimulation, praise kink, squirting a/n – sorry for the delay, coincidentally I also had to work overtime for work this week lol now if only I had Gyeom too…but in other news, got7 is coming back in 3.5 more hours!!!!!!!!! I’m so excited y’all!!! // part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

It’s 9PM on a Friday when you decide to turn off your work computer and call it quits. When you blink, the blue shadow of your screen still flickers behind your eyes and for the past two hours your right lid has been twitching every few minutes. When you stand up from your office chair, the world spins and you are briefly nauseated. You swallow down the feeling with a huff, throwing on your jacket and purse.

It’s quiet on your floor, everyone else having left already. It’s been like this the entire week ever since your project manager proposed a new venture and put you in charge of actually making it happen. Yugyeom tells you to just quit, but you figure it’s partially your fault too. You don’t know how to say no. 

So instead, you stop by the convenience store next door and buy yourself a couple of bath bombs. As an afterthought you throw in a box of Ferrero Rocher at checkout.

It’s another thirty minutes when you finally get home. Your whole body aches from being crouched at your desk. As you kick off your flats, Yugyeom greets you with a much too eager smile.

“Babe!” he exclaims, his black hair practically bouncing with every step towards you. “The boys are having game night tonight!”

You let out a yawn as you put your things down. “Sounds great, Gyeom, you go have fun.”

He let out a pout, “You don’t want to come with me?”

You answer with a tired smile and only grow even more weary when you see his infamous puppy dog eyes. “Gyeom,” you plead softly.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course I missed you baby!” You pull him into your arms, nestling your face in his chest. You take a deep breath, his distinct warm bergamot tones filling your senses. You truly have missed him. Two years in and coming home to him every night still isn’t enough. Boy, are you in deep, huh?

“Then come with. Someone needs to put Bambam in his place. He bought a PC and suddenly thinks he’s a gamer,” you feel the rumble of his chest as he squeezes you closer.

And you feel your own resolve breaking the longer you stay in his arms, but when you blink, your eyes still sting from the strain of overuse and fatigue.

“But…I bought bath bombs.”

Yugyeom pulls away slightly and you offer up a weak smile. He knows you’ve been working hard this week. He assumed you would enjoy letting go and playing games for the rest of the night, so your rejection blindsides him. He was really looking forward to spending time with you and the guys. From above, he can see the bags under your eyes more clearly and you do look tired.

“Are you sure?” he offers up one final plea and you answer with a firm nod.

“Go and have fun for the both of us,” you assure, pulling away and heading towards your shared bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Yugyeom repeats, following after you like a shadow. “Want me to stay in with you?”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you pull out a pair of mismatched pajamas from your drawers. “Please, I don’t think I can handle all your energy right now.”

“Hey!”

“You are the love of my life,” You press a kiss to his frown and watch how easily the corner of his lips lift. “I love you, I love you, I love you, but please Gyeom, go out and have fun and I’ll enjoy myself at home and when you come back, I will welcome you into my arms and we can have the whole weekend together, just us. Okay?”

Seeing your exasperation, Yugyeom puckers his lips before breaking out into a boyish grin. “Oh alright! Go have fun with your bubble bath, I guess.”

“I will,” you press one last kiss to his lips before shooing him away.

It’s not long before you finally have the apartment to yourself. Humming, you slowly disrobe as you make your way to the minibar, breaking out a glass of wine. And just as you are about to sashay over to the bathroom, you pause and decide to take the whole bottle with you.

Impeccably timed, the water you left running is filled to the perfect level as you enter. Taking in a deep breath, you smile as you sip at your wine. The bath bomb you bought fizzes in the water, dispersing in the hot liquid in pastel purple and pinks, and fills the small room with the aroma of vanilla and lavender. For a convenience store bath bomb, it does its job perfectly, which is great because you honestly needed this one win for the week.

When you finally sink into the water, it feels like heaven on your aching muscles. For the first time in what feels like this entire week, you feel your shoulders untensing from the heat of the water.

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. 

And you almost fall asleep right there before you remember the chocolates sitting at the edge of the tub. Picking up one of the golden orbs, you bite at the curve of your lips and admire the crinkled foil before your eyes shift furtively to the bathroom door like a thief. Despite being alone in the apartment, you can’t help feeling like a child up to no good.

Yugyeom has a, well, disliking towards convenience store chocolates. He believes they dishonor the art of chocolate making with their “sick capitalist greed” (even though he happens to own a chocolate store). As a result, you very rarely ever ate chocolates that were not made by Yugyeom, himself, which was great because who doesn’t love free, expensive chocolates? But sometimes, you missed the taste of other chocolates.

Especially, Ferrero Rocher. Back in high school, these were your “expensive” desserts. Almost every month, they were your go-to treat whenever you were nursing your period pains and hormonal mood swings. When you entered adulthood and your self-care treatments became more expensive, so did your taste in chocolates.

But now, here you are, savoring the chocolatey, nutty flavor of convenience store goodness on your tongue while your lover is away like a wife with a dirty secret. Your life has come full circle.

You giggle, hand already tearing the wrapper off another piece before the taste of the first is even fully gone. Man, did you miss this flavor. If you could have it your way, you’d put Nutella in everything! The hazelnut spread was like crack! You make a mental note to buy yourself a jar on your next grocery run. 

With the delicious taste of hazelnut glazed over your tongue, you sink back into the tub and watch mindlessly as the pastel water swirls around you. 

Suddenly, the door creaks open and a hand pops through with your pink bra hanging by the strap on a finger. Yugyeom pushes open the door, revealing his amused face.

“So eager to kick me out that you left a whole trail of your clothes on the floor?” 

You smile up at him before sinking your lips into the water.

“And here I was thinking you’d be so lonely by yourself,” he pouts, setting your bra on the sink counter and approaching you.

You sit up straighter, lifting your head fully out of the water, as he gets closer. “I left a trail so you could find me.”

“Too late for your lame excuses,” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of the tub. His eyes follow your movements as you hug your legs closer to your chest. Most of your makeup has washed off, though the ghost of your eyeliner still tints the ends of your eyes, and though your lipstick has rubbed off, the inside of your lip is awkwardly wine stained. The ends of your hair are wet by the water and the strands stick to your skin in clumps.

And you are so beautiful. Not because you look particularly different in this moment, but because you look so real. It makes him think back to when the two of you first started dating. You had been so nervous, waking up early to put on makeup before he could see you and wearing lingerie every time he slept over. Back then, you’d even refrained from your regular self-care routines because you had been so worried he would think you were too high maintenance. 

But now, he is blessed to have you here, completely bare to him, literally and figuratively. All curled up in the tub, smiling up at him without an ounce of fear—it makes his insides all gooey. You do that to him.

The guys had given him a hard time about leaving game night early, but now that he’s here, he’s sure he made the right choice. 

“Babe,” your soft whisper breaks him out of his reverie. Your eyes brighten when he meets your gaze. “Wanna join me?”

Yugyeom closes his eyes, tilting his head up, and lets out a loud exhale. “You are perfect.”

You giggle, nose scrunching, until you hear the sound of crunching plastic. You watch, in slow motion, as Yugyeom’s gaze drops to the floor and the both of you freeze.

You blink up, swallowing. The residue of chocolate suddenly tastes sour in your mouth.

“Is that…” The words get caught in Yugyeom’s throat. But his silence feels worse when he’s staring at you with wide, accusatory eyes.

“Gyeom, I-I can explain!” the words come jumbling out of you in a rush, your mouth suddenly dry.

“You…You…In our house, babe?” 

“All the stores were closed by the time I left work. I just-I just wanted a quick snack!”

You feel like drowning in your own guilt when Yugyeom looks at you so sadly.

“You could’ve asked me to bring you home chocolates. Unless,” he pauses and a frown forms on his face, “you didn’t want to?”

You hurry to stand in the tub, water splashing from the sudden movement, but you don’t care. You twine your wet, raisined fingers between his.

“Baby, I love your chocolates! They’re my favorite, you know that,” you squeeze his fingers, ignoring the cold air around your bare skin. 

“Do I?” he sulks, looking back at the half-eaten tray of Ferrero Rocher.

You sway to the side, angling your body so your eyes meet his again. “I went into the convenience store to buy bath bombs and grabbed these chocolates at checkout as an afterthought. If I knew I was going to crave chocolates when I saw it, I really would have called you. But it was already late at night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Yugyeom sighs. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to eat and love whatever you want…but just so you know, you’re never bothering me. I will make you chocolates even if it’s the middle of the night and you’re on the other side of the world.”

“Gyeom,” you pout, endeared by his words even as he’s saying it with a frown on his face. You press your palm to his cheek, guiding his lips to yours. “I love your chocolates, and I love you.”

Finally, Yugyeom smiles and you meet his with your own. It’s not long before he’s edging his tongue through the seam of your lips, tangling in your mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to taste him on your lips like this. The quick morning kiss goodbye could only keep you going for so long.

You’ve missed this so much. You’ve missed him. How long has it been since the two of you had sex? A week? No, ten days? For the both of you, that was like an eternity.

You can feel your hunger stirring against the pliant muscle of Yugyeom’s tongue. You forget to breathe as he sucks at the bottom of your lip until it is red and swollen. It’s not until your lungs feel like they are burning that the both of you break away with heaving breaths.

Yugyeom makes a face of disgust despite the shine of your saliva on his lips. “You taste like that stupid generic crap.”

He kicks at the tray of chocolates on the floor and you giggle.

“I don’t know, Gyeom, it seemed like you were enjoying the taste,” you tease, tongue poking slyly out the corner of your lips.

It’s then that he realizes your bare state and a smirk replaces his frown.

“You wanna have a self-care night, right? Let me teach you something about self-care.” Without another word, Yugyeom taps twice at your thigh and like a trained puppy, you jump for him. Clinging to his neck, you wrap your wet legs around his waist and let him carry you into your bedroom.

You let out a squeak of surprise when he tosses you roughly onto the mattress.

“If you want to indulge, I’ll give you something to indulge in,” Yugyeom grabs at the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head before flinging it across the room. You watch with hungry eyes as his hands move down to his jeans, veins protruding up his arms as he undoes his button. You can’t help the disappointment that fills you when he stops there.

His brows arch at your expression. “Only good girls get rewarded, baby.”

“I’ll be good for you,” you plead, crawling to the edge of the bed to meet him. He cups your face in his large hands sweetly.

“You promise?” You nod eagerly, making him scoff at your desperation. “Good girls don’t break their promises, so keep that in mind.”

“I promise,” you breathe out as Yugyeom trails his fingers down your cheek before grabbing you sharply by the chin.

“I don’t know, kitten, it seemed like earlier you didn’t even want me in the house. Feels like you didn’t miss me at all.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze, brows arching with concern. He points his nose in the air haughtily, but if experience has taught you anything, there was definitely a hint of hurt in his words.

You touch your fingers to his wrist softly. “I missed you so much,” you utter softly. And contrary to the gentleness of your voice, your gaze is strong and sure. It’s only when Yugyeom’s lips twitch into the slightest of smiles that you relax into his touch again.

He pinches your chin between his thumb, forcing your head to tilt back further. His eyes returning to their dark, demanding gaze. “What exactly did you miss so much, kitten?”

“Everything—your touch, your taste, the way you make me feel wanted and loved and safe and warm,” your eyes glaze over, conflicted between giving into your lust or your love, and feeling it all jumbling inside your gut. Both your chest and your core aches for him and it’s so apparent in the way your body seems to melt into the grip of his hand. “I miss feeling you inside me. No one else can make me feel that good.”

“Oh, I’ll make you feel good tonight, kitten,” he smirks, releasing your chin. “Spread out for me baby.”

As soon as he utters the command, you are rushing to the pillows. With your head sinking into the silk pillowcase, you open your legs wide for Yugyeom to admire. And he admires, taking his sweet time to follow you onto the bed, eyes glued to the heavenly sight of your cunt just absolutely glistening with lust for him.

His mouth waters just looking at you spread out for him. “Pretty pussy, so wet for me already.”

He trails his hands slowly up your inner thighs and you are practically vibrating, careening for more of his touch. Yugyeom smirks as he stares at your pussy. Even in his peripheral vision, he can already tell you’re on edge. Brushing two fingers up your wet pussy lips, he spreads your folds apart with the V of his fingers.

Your shaky inhale is audible, much to Yugyeom’s satisfaction.

“So impatient, kitten,” he chuckles darkly, enjoying the way your cunt clenches around nothing. He lifts his fingers off of you and raises it to his mouth. He watches you closely before releasing a low moan at your taste on his tongue. When you bite your bottom lip and watch him quietly, Yugyeom releases his fingers with a pop and lifts his brow. “You’re really trying to keep your promise, aren’t you?”

You nod fervently, making him laugh.

“Then as I promised, good girls get rewarded,” he smiles, a shine in his eyes that promises mischief.

With that, Yugyeom presses his two fingers back between your legs and you release a loud sigh at the feeling of his fingers stretching your walls. The ache is delicious and you find yourself whining a little too loudly at just his two fingers alone. You’ve been so wound up this entire week, the sudden stretch of his two fingers is almost overwhelming. Already, your walls are quivering around his digits.

You feel your cheeks heat, eyes diverting from Yugyeom’s gaze to the ceiling. When you hear his dark chuckles, you know he’s noticed too. You’re already so close, it’s embarrassing. When Yugyeom curls his fingers into your soft, velvety flesh, a moan releases from your throat as you feel a fluttering straight in your core.

It feels too good too fast and soon you are whining, palms flying to cover your face as the knot in your core tightens.

“Gyeom, wait, I-”

“Aw, is kitten going to cum already?” Yugyeom coos sadistically, fingers curling faster against your walls. “What’s the rush baby? I haven’t even tasted you properly.”

“Please,” you whine, tensing at your abdomen in a sorry attempt to fight off your orgasm. 

“Missed me that much, baby?” he laughs, feeling your walls squeeze against his digits.

“Yes!” you admit, feeling the telltale signs of your cunt contracting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm hits you, making your body quiver with pleasure. Heat spreads across your limbs as you ride out your high. 

Yugyeom’s fingers continue to stroke against your pulsing walls as he watches you cum on his fingers. His smirk grows when you open your eyes again, looking at him with surprise. Your hands come to his wrist.

“B-babe,” you stutter, body shaking from his continued ministrations. “It’s too much.”

“Shh,” he strokes his fingers softly against the swell of your walls while his other hand gently lifts your hand from his wrist. “You can do this, kitten. Be a good girl for me.”

You swallow, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as a thrill runs down your spine. Finally, you give a small nod, and he smiles at you with crescent eyes.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers encouragingly. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby. Show me how you cum, okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand as he presses a third finger into your sopping hole. As soon as you’re stretched by his third finger, you can already feel your core tightening. Your heart races in your chest as Yugyeom curls his fingers into you faster, chasing the delicious high that is just tipping you at the very edge.

You let out a whimper, eyes squeezing as your walls tighten around him for the second time. His fingers dig into the perfect spot inside of you over and over until you are exploding with pleasure. All thoughts leave you as your mind fills with hot white pleasure.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, the fog slowly lifts from your mind and you are relieved to find Yugyeom’s fingers have stopped moving inside you.

“You did so great, baby,” he praises you and you feel yourself glowing from his words.

And then you feel his fingers move again.

“Gyeom,” you whine weakly.

He chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you. He smiles, coming up to press a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re amazing, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “I love seeing you cum around my fingers.”

You pout, running your fingers through his hair. “Only for you.”

You feel him smile against you before he moves to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You can do one more for me, kitten,” he murmurs, breath tickling the shell of your ear. It makes you shiver, and he can already feel you arching into him. “I missed your taste, baby.”

At those words, you groan. God, you missed his tongue on you.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” he chuckles, brushing his wet fingers between your folds. You whine, nodding. “Such a good girl. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“I know,” you exhale, already shivering from his touch. You watch him with hooded eyes as he smiles from your admittance.

Slowly, he makes his way back down your body, tickling your skin with butterfly kisses down your neck and sucking red bruises down the valley of your chest. Planting a sweet kiss to your mound, Yugyeom pulls away to blow air at your glistening folds, admiring the way you shiver at the sensation.

Finally, with eyes on you, he dips down and licks a stripe up your pussy. He smirks with satisfaction as your eyes flutter close. He taps your thigh, bringing your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

You whimper, nodding, and you rise on your elbows, gaze fixed on him. Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, Yugyeom gives you one last smile before pressing his lips around your clit. You suck in a breath as he laps at the bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue in intoxicating circles. His mouth feels so warm and soft around you, you can’t help the sigh of pleasure that escapes you.

“God,” you moan, feeling the tightening of your core once again.

Yugyeom answers you with the press of his fingers at your entrance again. You let out a loud moan, feeling your walls quiver at the familiar intrusion. Despite yourself, you find your body clenching around his digits. 

The room fills with your heavy panting and the loud squelch of his fingers thrusting into your sopping entrance. But you can barely hear anything, your brain buzzing from oversensitivity. It almost hurts, how good he makes you feel. When he groans around your clit, it sends vibrations straight to your tightening core.

“Gyeom!” you whine, eyes prickling with tears as he sucks harder.

Your legs shake out of control when he curls his fingers against your g-spot, sending you hurtling into another orgasm. A guttural wail of his name leaves your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tears run down your cheeks as your head hits the pillow and you shake against the mattress, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure erupting throughout you. Wave after wave of hot pleasure spreads across your skin and Yugyeom watches in awe as your pussy squirts all over him and down his bare chest.

“Fuck, baby!” He laughs when you finally come to. “You just squirted!”

You feel your cheeks heat as you look down at his wet body and the mess on the sheets. “I-I did,” you mutter, suddenly shy.

“Don’t get embarrassed on me now, kitten,” he smiles reassuringly at you. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done, babe. I just want to eat you out forever now!”

You suck in a breath when he dips down and laps at your cum. You shiver at the sting of oversensitivity, pushing his head away. 

“Too much, Gyeom,” you whine weakly.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your thigh before sitting back up. 

The smirk returns to his face as his eyes darken again. “Too much, kitten? But I’m just taking care of you. I know you love your self-care nights so much.”

Your eyes grow wide as you follow his hands. You swallow, seeing the bulge of his jeans. And despite having orgasmed the hardest you ever have just moments ago, you find your pussy clenching against air.

And the ache for your boyfriend returns, tenfold. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he presses his red, hard cock to your swollen pussy. A little indulgence never hurt anyone right? After all, you had a very rough week. 

[cunningambitousdetermined]

i need a plot for this

yall so ive been trying really hard to get back into writing and i went to a writing camp this summer. im going to post a poem that i wrote there later bc im super proud of it but right now i have something else i need help with. SO basically there was a prompt about someone finding a letter or a note. that’s the prompt. so i wrote something, really liked it BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE TO TAKE IT FROM HERE. my basic ideas involve the two characters meeting each other again to do SOMETHING WHICH I DONT KNOW and slowly arcane (youll see when you read the story below) thaws and falls in love with kalon and kalon has always been in love with her and its like best friends to enemies to friends to lovers ya know? ANYWAY if you dont hate me for being inactive and needy, please read this and help me. 

Dear Arcane,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 10 years. Wow. I don’t even know if you’ll ever get this, you could’ve moved. You could be dead. Oh god, that’s dark. You’re not dead, someone would’ve told me, I’m sure. So that must mean that there’s a good chance you have this, but I’m not even sure if you’ll read it.

He was right, as he most often was. Arcane had not planned to read the letter from the moment she read her name on the envelope, written in a neat sort of messy handwriting that could only come from one person. The letter had been sitting at her desk for a week before memories began to drown her and she knew she had to open it.

That’s not the point though, I’m sure you’ll read this. You’ve always been a sucker for the intimacy of written letters. Maybe that’s why I wrote to you instead of calling.

Arcane closed her eyes, the pounding of the memories at the door slowly consuming her. She took a deep breath and let them in. The whispers started to fill the room, every word echoing off the walls, like her past had become a living, breathing thing in her room. How could he write her now? After all these years. Anger reared it's small head in the back of her mind. How could he be so casual as if he wasn't the boy who ripped her heart out and tore it to pieces. 

Maybe it’s because I did read all the letters you wrote to me. Even after the voicemails stopped filling my phone and the emails ran dry, your letters kept coming.

She remembers writing those letters, the pen shaking in her hand as it hit the paper. She remembers wondering what you said to someone like him, a friend who left you behind. The squeeze in her chest that tightened each time he didn’t reply. The break in her heart when the last letter she ever wrote was returned to her doorstep.

If you’ve read this far without tearing my letter to pieces, then I would say this is a good start to our reunion. I’ve missed you. Your stubborn ways, always trying to keep me safe. But you always came with me wherever I went anyway. I miss your secret smile, the one you saved just for me. The treehouse we built in your yard. Do you miss that? I wonder if you wonder about me. I wonder if I can even ask that of you.

She did miss them. But, those things that she missed were long gone. The treehouse was overgrown with vines, Arcane was sure you couldn’t even get into it anymore. She went with him on his stupid adventures because what would she do if he left and met new people? He would leave her and she would be alone. So she desperately followed him blindly, hoping it would keep him close. Arcane missed her secret smile, the genuine one she had always saved for him. He missed it. How could he miss something that he destroyed. With his one and only letter to her, he demolished any leftover love for him that hid in her heart. He couldn’t ask if Arcane wondered about him. That wasn’t fair. That night, ten years ago, was still a raw wound in her soul that she was pretty sure would never heal.

~

The rain was relentless that night, banging against every edge of the house, but a little girl was waiting by the door, not even flinching as the lightning and thunder clapped furiously. Arcane peeked her head above the window frame to find the mailman running through the storm, his frantic steps pounding through the floor of the house. Her eyes lit up with a hope that was slowly fading with each mail drop. She opened the door and hid the small smile that started to spread up her face with a cough.

“Hi, Dan!” Arcane’s voice gave away the excitement that was flooding her system.

“Hey, Arcane.” Dan couldn’t help the pitiful grin that he gave her. She waited by the door for him every day and each day there was no letter for her. It must be soul-crushing, he thought, waiting for a letter that never comes.

“Is there…?” Arcane was practically on her tiptoes at this point. Dan rifled through the letters, dread settling as her name wasn’t there. Again. And then there was a squeal. “Oh, Dan! I found it! I knew- I knew it- I told them!” Her sentences didn’t even come out fully as she beamed, her smile brighter than any ray of the sun.

Arcane had run into the house, a breeze following in her wake. Plopping down into the soft plush couch, she ripped open the envelope, not caring about the paper that flew everywhere in the room. A paper fluttered out, floating toward the ground. Arcane grabbed it, hands shaking, she could practically feel the sweat dripping down her face. Words were the easiest way to break someone. The letter only contained eleven words, yet they would stick with her for the rest of her life.

Stop writing me. None of it was real. You were nothing.

Eleven words. And they shattered her. Crumbling, shattering, a million pieces breaking. Sobs racked through her whole body, her chest shaking and trembling with each broken breath. She caught her face in the mirror hanging off the pale wall and didn’t recognize the girl that stared back. You were nothing. A scream tore through her, the ache of her heart so raw that even the sun seemed to cry, rain dripping onto the panes of the windows. And slowly, so very slowly, Arcane buried the ache and gathered the shattered pieces of her heart and encased them in an impenetrable cage, never to opened again.

~

The ache was still present now, ten years after the letter had arrived. The dullness of her buried hurt made her clench her fists around the letter that sat in her hand now, the same lopsided handwriting adorning it.

But, that’s not why I’m writing this letter. I’m writing this with an actual purpose, if you can imagine that. I didn't just write to rehash our friendship. 

Arcane could feel her eyes narrowing, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the inanimate piece of paper. An actual purpose? To break her heart all over again? This time she did roll her eyes, even though no one was there to see it. But, it wasn’t the fact that he wrote her after all these years or that his tone was friendly throughout that made her body freeze. It was the last line that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention.

In all the years that Arcane had known him, he'd never been very dependent. He often just struggled in silence and figured them out on his own. Not once, not ever, had has asked for help. But, there the sentence was inked in his slanted, loopy writing. 

I need your help.

Love,

Kalon

  ~~everything below here is stuff that doesnt have to be a part of the story but i still liked it and where it was going (idk please give me ideas)~~

The quiet, shock of the room seemed to weigh on Arcane. She flopped back onto her bed, the soft pillows cushioning her landing. I need your help. Those few, simple words, tugged at the strings that bound her heart. He needed her. The thought was fleeting as just as quickly as it came, it left. In its spot was anger. Now he needed her? After all those years when she needed him? What did he do then? Nothing. And that’s what she was going to do now. She huffed in satisfaction, tossing the envelope to the side. Her fingers reached into her hair, massaging her head. There were too many things to think about right now. Arcane squeezed her eyes shut as memories stung her eyes in the form of tears. 

~

“Please, don’t leave me.” Arcane had whispered, her small breaths filling the one room of the treehouse. 

“I don’t have a choice. You know I don’t want to go.” Kalon’s voice broke and he looked away so Arcane couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. It was silent. 

“We’ll still be best friends right?” 

“Yeah.” Kalon’s reply didn’t hold much conviction, causing Arcane to look over at him, confused, glossy eyes narrowing. 

“To the moon and back, Kal, remember?” She said, her tone desperate. It was a promise they made one night as they were watching some cheesy movie on the old television set. The boy had told the girl that he loved her too ‘the moon and back’. Kalon had then explained that the two characters said that so that they would never be apart. They could meet at the same moon, always and then they could go back. And then, they would never be fully apart. Arcane had liked that. So naturally,  she had grabbed Kal’s face and made him promise that they would go ‘to the moon and back’ if they were ever apart. It became a goodbye for them, a way of saying ‘I’ll see you soon’. 

“Yeah,” Kal had replied, a smile barely curling through his lips, “I’ll race ya there.”

~

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, letting her memories flow down her cheeks and into the bedsheets, but eventually she had to get up. She pulled herself up and off the bed, limbs protesting at the use. She just needed a few days is all, then she wouldn’t even remember what she was crying for.  Kalon didn’t mean anything to her anymore.

thank you for reading this far, i love all of you. just throw out ideas please. or give me some advice, i would love that. whether its about my writing or the plot i would love to have tips and constructive criticism on how to get better! tagging some moots who i hope dont hate me after this below the cut:

@natashxromanovf @pad-foots @griffxnnage @voidmalfoy @flxss-bxbblxs @alwaysreading @herondalesunsetcurve THANKS YALL I LOVE YOU MORE THEN I EXPRESS AND I DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT DESERVE ALL OF YOU AND YOUR LOVE

[monsterfuneral]

weightless | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!Lost boys x Reader

Songs used: Alice In Chains - Rotten Apple / The Cure - Cold / Failure - Another Space Song 

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: (None of the songs pertain to the plot/relationship, they’re simply just good songs) Drug use, a little making out :), possibly ooc?? This is my first time writing for them

Author’s Note: This is so self indulgent omfg. I wanted to write a semi vent fic while also something cute that made me feel better.  

!!LOST BOY REQUESTS OPEN!! (smut, fluff or angst)

Full request list will be written soon <3

---

Your body felt weightless as you danced along to the song that played on the beloved rockbox. Fingers twisting and arms turning as your hips swayed and your feet carried you along the decrepit fountain in the center of the cave. Your fingers thread through your hair and drifted above your head before extending outwards in front of you, coming back to drag your fingertips across your cheeks, neck, and down to your chest before traveling back upwards. The high you had been riding still clutched you so beautifully, leaving you swimming in your own head as you enjoyed the echoing intro of an Alice In Chains song. The hypnotic vocals and beautiful instrumental made you feel untouchable. 

The embarrassment you would have felt many months ago had been rightfully kicked away by the comfort of knowing you were allowed to simply be you in the presence of the boys. It took weeks- if not longer- of encouragement to finally crack you out of your seemingly unbreakable shell of self-preservation. But now here you were, dancing along to one of your favorite songs without a care in the world, knowing you were being watched by your boyfriends. You were swaying in almost perfect sync with the song, eyes closed, a small smile on your face as you sang along. 

Hey ah na na Innocence is over Hey ah na na, over Hey ah na na Ignorance is spoken Hey ah na na, spoken Hey ah na na Confidence is broken Hey ah na na broken

This was one of your slower mixtapes that you always liked putting on after passing around a joint with the boys. It was a mixtape that always made you rise from your spot beside Paul and Dwayne, your head bobbing slowly and your hips following along with the music. The first few songs you were usually able to get Marko to join you in your music possessed state, by the time the third song is finished though he takes your old spot on the couch and watches you along with the others. 

You’re not always alone after that though, sometimes when Star doesn’t have plans with Michael she joins you too. Her movements didn’t differ much from your own. The initial stiffness worked out by the buzz you both rode off of. 

A new song came on after ‘Rotten Apple’ finally came to a close, Cold by The Cure played throughout the cave. You dropped down from the fountain and walked over to Paul slowly, plucking the joint from his fingers making him whine playfully before sitting back and watching you sway your hips as you took a long hit. You passed it back to him and grazed your fingertips over his jaw before straightening your back. You turned to walk back over to the fountain but your wrist was caught by a gloved hand, Marko stared up at you, feigning innocence as he gently pulled you down to straddle his lap. 

Your lungs were still full of smoke as he cupped the back of your head and brought you forward, his lips touching your own. You knew exactly what he wanted. With a slow exhale you shared a smokey kiss, his lips were soft and his hands held you softly against his chest. Your own fingers were buried in the curly hair at the nape of his neck, brushing against your knuckles as you silently hoped your rings wouldn’t get caught. You separated and he locked eyes with you, a smirk now playing on his lips as he brushed his thumb over your heated cheek.

Everything as cold as life Can no one save you? Everything as cold as silence And you never say a word

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and exhaled the smoke you had passed. You planted three soft kisses on his neck before slipping from his hold and squeezing yourself between him and Paul. Marko’s hand came down to lay on your thigh as you leaned more into Paul, throwing your legs over the curly haired vampire’s lap letting him play with the fishnets you were wearing underneath your ripped jeans. Paul’s arm slung around your shoulder with his hand resting on your other, his back leaning against the arm of the couch and wedged his right leg between you and the back cushion in order to make your position against him more comfortable. 

“You want another hit before I put this out?” He said quietly next to your ear, showing you the now tiny joint that he held with the tips of his fingers. You nodded against his shoulder, he brought it to your lips letting you inhale as much as you could before putting it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. You leaned your head back on his shoulder and blew the smoke out towards the ceiling, much like Marko had done. 

Marko’s fingers picked at your fishnets absently as he continued to stare up at the tall ceiling of the cave, watching his pigeons flutter by occasionally. David was smoking a cigarette and watching you all, a small smile curling around the butt. Dwayne taps his fingers gently along with the newest song that played, he was reading one of the new horror novels you had bought him. Paul was humming quietly behind you, fingers tracing shapes in your shoulder while planting featherlight kisses on your neck. 

All my missions float away I never trained too hard I'm so caught up in the tree of stars Falling in my backyard She'll always be what I can't find She'll always be where I break down She'll always hide behind a star I'll always dream she can't be far

You couldn’t help but reminisce a bit, remembering how reluctant you had been at first to be fully yourself around them, scared you would be met with the same criticism you were met with at home. When you weren’t, it felt like a weight was being slowly lifted from your shoulders. They all taught you that there was no need in pretending to be someone you weren’t in order to satisfy others. They coaxed the wildside out of you, making you feel the most comfortable you have ever felt in your whole life.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Dwayne asked, no longer reading the book in his lap, he had an almost tranquil looking smile on his face as he looked over at you. 

You returned the smile, your eyes lidded and your mind moving in slow motion, “Just thinking about how happy I am.” You gushed, the loving smile not faltering “I love you guys.” 

You practically watched Dwayne’s eyes turn to hearts as he stared at you. Marko turned his head, his own eyes soft with a cute smile on his lips. Paul’s fingers twisted through your hair softly, kissing your neck, shoulder and cheek. 

“You’re such a softie babe.” He joked, his nose pressing against your cheek softly as he kissed up your jaw. 

Letting out a quiet chuckle you reached over and grabbed Marko’s hand, threading your fingers with his. You looked over to David who’s already staring at you from his wheelchair. He has a smirk on his lips as usual, but his eyes have softened too- something you rarely catch- before he winks and takes another inhale of his almost fully smoked cigarette. 

“What’s got you all sappy tonight?” Marko teased. His fingers go back to picking carefully at your fishnets, lifting them from your legs and letting go over and over. 

You shrug against Paul “I was just thinking about how much you guys have helped me. Being my shoulder to cry on and stuff.” Another chuckle passes through you softly “I just feel like I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t accidentally run into Dwayne, y’know?” 

It was true. Before you met them you felt as if only certain parts of yourself were allowed to be spoken openly about, closing the more sensitive bits away in order to keep those around you comfortable. With the fear of criticism discarded in the presence of your boyfriends, it was like a breath of fresh air. Your body feels weightless around them, a certain type of excitement coming form wholly embracing yourself for who you are and being rewarded for it. Your enthusiasm about things wasn’t met with a strange look or an offhand comment, your anger about certain topics wasn’t met with guilt tripping, not with them. While they weren’t the most mature people you ever met, they at least understood how to make someone feel comfortable and loved. 

“Aww you’re so cute.” Marko commented before leaning over you and kissing you on the lips. His hand cupping your cheek gently. 

Your happiness was with them...