#I think there are ones with enough power to leave you save and shut down the pc properly before the battery runs out
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It's windy outside and every time I hear a loud wind I quickly save the progress on my work
The other night it was very windy and the light went out for a second at least 3 times that night so now I'm paranoid that it's gonna go out again and I'll lose my work
#it would be good to get an emergency battery for my computer in case the light goes out I don't lose my work#I think there are ones with enough power to leave you save and shut down the pc properly before the battery runs out
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Stuck

In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.
Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play Word count: 5,4k A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is đ€ I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!
âOh, you guys are such babies!â You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how theyâve been stuck in one before.Â
âItâs not funny, Y/N,â Spencer chimes in. âThere are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.â  Â
You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. âSee!â You exclaim. âHotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. Weâll be fine.â You add cheerfully.
âYouâre coming?â Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms.Â
You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. âIt made the same sound the last time!â You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering.Â
âNot again!â Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like heâs about to fall to his death at any given moment.
Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. âIt seems like the electricity went outâŠâÂ
âActually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,â Spencer interjects. âIt could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-ïżœïżœÂ
âLetâs just solve this problem, shall we?â You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel.Â
âYou think thatâll do something?â Morgan asks, brow lifted.Â
âIt will alert someone that weâre stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.â Hotch adds.Â
âWell at least Iâll be missing my meeting with Strauss,â I sigh in relief.Â
âIt was at twelve, right?â Spencer asks.Â
âYeah,â you respond with a nod.
âStatistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,â Spencer continues, checking his watch. âThat means you could still make it in time.âÂ
âNow thatâs just what I wanted to hear,â you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan.Â
âWe can only hope we wonât be in here for that long,â Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors.Â
âOkay⊠so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?âÂ
âNo, no cases please,â Morgan groans. âWeâve had three in a row. Iâm done.âÂ
âMorgan is right. Weâve done enough cases in the past few days.â Hotch agrees.Â
You mutter an âalrightâ as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer.Â
âSo Reid, Iâm sure youâve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.âÂ
Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. âWell, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,â you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. âThe first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.â You hum in interest. âThey used lifts in the Colosseum, right?âÂ
âYes! Exactly!â he responds excitedly. âThe system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!âÂ
âOh come on,â Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. âYouâre telling me youâre actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?â.Â
Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derekâs skepticism.Â
âDerek MorganâŠâ you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. âDonât act like Iâm not curious about knowledge. At least Spenceâs got something interesting to say.âÂ
Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense.Â
âHey, I know facts too,â Morgan says smugly. âHow about there being 7000 languages in the world today.âÂ
âThe overall number is actually closer to 8000,â Spencer corrects him. âYou only counted verbal communication.âÂ
âYou guys are going to have a facts competition now?â You ask, bewildered. âItâs way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.â
âI agree,â Hotch mutters. âIt is getting a little warm.â
You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. Thereâs a brief silence before Reid speaks up again.Â
âI never thought Iâd be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,â he muses. âItâs a little clichĂ©.â
âCliche, how?â Hotch asks, intrigued despite himself.Â
âYou know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?âÂ
You shake your head in confusion, âI think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,â you laugh.Â
Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile.Â
âI shouldâve known youâve only watched the dirty ones,â Derek teases.Â
âWhat about you, pretty boy? Ever seen a dirty movie?â He asks Spencer, grinning.Â
Reid looks flustered. âI grew up in Vegas⊠Iâve seen some things.âÂ
âAh, Vegas,â you say, sighing dreamily. âThe place where you canât drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.â
Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. âSounds like my kind of place.âÂ
You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing.Â
âWhat about you, Hotch? Whatâs your favorite dirty movie?â You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look.Â
âWatch it, Y/L/N.â Hotch warns.
âCome on, Hotch,â Derek says. âLet loose a little!â
âSee it as the universeâs sign.â I press on.Â
âHow is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?â Hotch asks, brows raised.
âWell, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,â you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes.Â
To everyoneâs surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you.Â
You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.
The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. Youâre glad he joined you, but itâs hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you.Â
âHow long has it been?â you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. âIâm starting to sweat.â
âThirty-five minutes so far,â Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself.Â
Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face.Â
âYou guys should take your jackets off,â you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch.Â
You donât need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away.Â
âOh, sheâs enjoying the view, alright,â Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.
âShut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.âÂ
Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, âLook at that, Hotch. Youâre surprising us all today. First you smile and now youâre taking your jacket off. Whatâs next, dancing a jig?â You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morganâs teasing but canât help a small smile from appearing on his lips.Â
Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. âHere, let me help youâ, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You donât know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.
âNow itâs your turn, youâre the one who insisted,â Morgan states, and you canât help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.
âIâll open up some buttons too, if you donât mind,â you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You donât give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, âNow thatâs a nice view.â
âYouâre insufferable,â you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morganâs eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like theyâre struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed.Â
He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect youâre having on them. âYou know, youâre driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.âÂ
You let out a small huff, âGive me a break. Youâre wearing shortsleeves, Iâm the one wearing a blouse.âÂ
Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. âThat blouse does seem a bit warm.âÂ
âThank you!â You say, glad someone is on your side.Â
Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace thatâs hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away.Â
âLetâs just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fairâ, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension thatâs driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal.Â
âAll our shirts, are you sure about that?â Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.Â
âThen at least you wonât eye me like that.âÂ
âOh, I think Iâll eye you only more.â Derek teases, licking his lips.Â
âJust take your damn shirt off.âÂ
Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, âAlright, alright. No need to get feisty.â He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. Itâs a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ânother level.Â
Youâre glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether heâll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the otherâs bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that heâs more affected than heâs letting on.Â
âCome on, pretty boy. Join the party.â Derek says.
âIâll go first,â you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencerâs eyes widened at the scene in front of him.
âSee, itâs not that hard,â you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you.Â
âI donât know about that. Youâre making things pretty hard, baby girl.â Morgan comments, making you laugh.Â
âYouâre way too dirty for your own good.âÂ
Morgan grins. âCan you blame me? I mean, look at you. Youâre looking mighty tempting right now.â
You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. âYouâll feel a lot cooler, I promise,â you encourage.Â
âI donât know. Iâm not as⊠toned as the others.â It hurts you to hear how heâs comparing himself to his colleagues.Â
âDo you truly think I care about that?â You ask him. âItâs not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,â you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others.Â
âNot too bad, pretty boy. Youâre looking pretty good without that vest on.â Derek compliments.Â
âYou do,â You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, âYeah, that does feel better.âÂ
You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. âI think itâs safe to say weâve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,â you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension thatâs impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and thatâs when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotchâs fingers caressing your arm.
You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable.Â
His voice is low and husky, âYou're all worked up, sweetheart. Donât think we havenât noticed.âÂ
Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. âIâm not the only one,â you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like heâs been caught staring at your chest. âDonât be shy, genius,â Derek teases. âWeâre all thinking the same thing right now.â You canât help but smile at Spencerâs flustered look. âItâs⊠Itâs hard not to, when you-â He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts.Â
Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. âWeâve been stuck in here long enough. I think itâs safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.â The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought thatâs been occupying everyoneâs mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like heâs touching you.Â
âGuess itâs only fair if we all just⊠give in to it,â you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood.Â
From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles.Â
âYouâre always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,â Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you.Â
 âI- I donât know about thisâŠâ Spencer stammers.Â
Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. âDonât worry Reid, sheâs enjoying it.âÂ
âAre you sure?â Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck.Â
Morgan grins, âLet me show you how sure I am,â he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are.Â
âSee Reid, she loves it,â Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.
âLet me see,â Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch.Â
âYouâre such a little slut, arenât you?,â Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. âJust been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.â You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit.Â
Spencerâs eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just canât understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while theyâve been teasing him the entire time.Â
âYou can come here Spence,â you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as heâs close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds youâre making as youâre being touched all over.Â
âCan I-?â You donât let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit.Â
âYouâre beautiful,â he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand.Â
âThank you,â you whisper back. Itâs ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.
Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. âDonât do that. I like the way you sound.â Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you.Â
Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud.Â
You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencerâs swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you havenât experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time.Â
âMorgan, is she ready?â Hotch asks, breathing heavily.Â
âMore than ready, sir,â Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing.Â
âI need you for myself,â he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you.Â
âOh my god⊠I feel so full,â you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that heâs not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass.Â
âYouâre doing okay there, princess?â Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.
âYou feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?â You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement.Â
âI donât understand Y/N. Youâre a big girl, use your words.âÂ
âOh godâŠââ Your head spins as he pounds into you. âIâm not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.â He orders.Â
âYes!ââ you cry out. ââGod yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.âÂ
âSay my name again.â He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. âAaron, please⊠Iâm so, so close.â He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. âIâm almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.âÂ
You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You canât take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.
You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as youâre still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencerâs sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up.Â
âYou okay?â Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness.Â
âYeah. I feel really, really good.â You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder.Â
âDo you want me to take care of you?â You ask sensually, looking in his eyes.Â
âNot really,â he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. âItâs not like I donât want you to! Iâd- Iâd love you to doâŠâ, heâs not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. âWhatever you would do. I just-,â his voice softens, meeting your gaze. âI really need to know what you taste like.âÂ
Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. âOkay,â you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. Youâre amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.
âFeels good,â you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. âI canât wait to taste you,â he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. Heâs sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you.Â
Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesnât look like heâs touched himself.Â
âIf you donât mind, Iâd really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.â You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derekâs pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. âFuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.â You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like itâs wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.
His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements.Â
Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit.Â
âDonât get distracted, baby girl,â Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat.Â
âFuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,â he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue.Â
Spencerâs dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencerâs tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer canât keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him.Â
You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derekâs dick pops out of your mouth. âAre you okay, Spence?â You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. âSorry,â you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.
âOh godâŠâ You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that youâre making. You lazily tug on Derekâs cock, too distracted by Spencerâs tongue.Â
âOh Spencer, Iâm going to cum,â you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back.Â
âIâm not gonna last that much longer,â Derek announces, whoâs been stroking himself to your orgasm. âCome here, then,â you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.
âFuck, Y/N, baby, Iâm going to cum!â He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks.Â
âFuck⊠Youâre amazing, sweetheart.â He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath.Â
-
âWho the hell is in there?âÂ
The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyoneâs heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.
âThis is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. Iâm stuck here with three of my agents.âÂ
The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didnât you morons use the emergency button?"
Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.
"Hey, donât look at me! Iâm the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense.Â
The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."
You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled âEMERGENCY.â
"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"
The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? Iâve been working here for six months. Donât blame me because you canât read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."
You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head.Â
Derek notices how Spencerâs been unusually quiet. âSpeak up, kid,â he urged.Â
âIâve known what the buttons do the entire time,â he says, voice casual.
You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. âWhat?!â You both exclaim at the same time.Â
Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. âI told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.â
Derekâs mouth drops open. âYouâve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didnât say anything?!âÂ
Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. âItâs a team-building exercise,â he says matter-of-factly. âDonât tell me that you didnât enjoy it.â
You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. âYouâre unbelievable, Reid.â
As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.
#spencer reid x you#aaron hotchner x you#derek morgan x you#spencer reid x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid smut#aaron hotchner smut#derek morgan smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#derek morgan x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#derek morgan x y/n#aaron hotchner x y/n#spencer reid x oc
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How to Handle Your Diva || Vil Schoenheit
Youâre the unofficial Vil Schoenheit handler, a role you assumed when you started dating him. Whether itâs calming his temper or redirecting his wrath, youâve become the only one capable of keeping poor midguided souls from biting the dust.
aka the 7 times you save someone from getting poisoned or worse.
Instance 1: Chaos Duo
The serene backdrop of NRCâs gardens frames Vil Schoenheit like a painting come to life. Dressed in flowing silks and adorned with the perfect balance of sunlight and shadow, heâs mid-pose whenâ
âYo, Vil! Say cheese!â
Ace and Deuce leap into the frame, pulling the most exaggerated faces imaginable. Deuceâs eyes are practically crossed, and Ace looks like heâs mid-sneeze. The photographer audibly chokes on his spit.
Vil freezes. The air goes cold. The birds stop singing. Somewhere in the distance, a withering rose drops a petal.
âWhat,â Vil says, so quiet itâs terrifying, âwas that?â
âIt was Aceâs idea!â Deuce blurts immediately, shoving Ace under the metaphorical bus.
âThanks a lot, traitor!â Ace snaps back.
Vilâs eyes narrow. âYou,â he hisses, voice dripping with venom, âhave the audacity to ruin my shoot?â
By the time you arrive, the photographer is hiding behind a bush, and Ace and Deuce are sweating under Vilâs glare. The two freshmen look like theyâre seconds away from turning into frogsâor corpses.
âVil, sweetie,â you interrupt, stepping between them and the storm cloud forming above his head, âwhatâs going on?â
âThese plebeians,â Vil says, gesturing at Ace and Deuce like theyâre bacteria under a microscope, âthought it would be funny to sabotage my art!â
âTheyâre idiots,â you agree, shooting the freshmen a glare. âBut letâs think about this. What if... this makes your shoot even better?â
Vil arches a perfectly sculpted brow. âBetter?â
âYeah!â you say, channeling all your persuasive powers. âWhen people see this, theyâll notice how your beauty shines even in the presence ofââ you gesture vaguely at Ace and Deuce, ââmediocrity.â
âMediocrity?â Ace repeats indignantly.
âShut up,â you snap before turning back to Vil. âThink about it. Theyâll see your grace, your poise, and how you completely outshine everyone around you. Itâs contrast, Vil. Art loves contrast.â
Vil strokes his chin, considering. âYou may have a point...â
âTotally! And, like, who would take them seriously anyway? Look at Deuceâs face. He looks like a confused pigeon.â
âHey!â Deuce protests, but Ace is already nodding.
âYeah, yeah! Vil, this just makes you look even cooler! Like, people will see this and be like, âWow, heâs untouchable, even next to these losers.ââ
Vil finally exhales, his wrath ebbing. âVery well,â he says, smoothing his silks. âIâll allow it. But only because the juxtaposition highlights my perfection.â
Ace and Deuce sag in relief, clearly missing the word âjuxtaposition.â
Later, Trey finds you in the hallway. âI heard what happened,â he says, looking both exasperated and grateful. âThank you for stopping Vil from poisoning them. Again.â
You shrug. âAll in a dayâs work.â
Instance 2: Just Leona.
The group is gathered in the cafeteria, the usual buzz of conversation swirling around. Vil sits at the head of the table, eating his meticulously prepared saladâa work of art with perfect symmetry, vibrant greens, and an edible flower garnish.
Leona slouches in his chair nearby, tearing into a steak with all the grace of a feral lion. He pauses mid-bite, glances at Vil's plate, and snorts loud enough to turn heads.
"What's that, Schoenheit? Rabbit food?"
The air grows thick. Vilâs fork stops mid-air, his gaze snapping to Leona like a hawk spotting prey. "Excuse me?" he says, in that icy tone that sends chills down spines.
Leona smirks, undeterred. "You heard me. All those leaves and petalsâlooks like something Iâd feed to the herbivores back home."
Thereâs a collective oh no from everyone nearby. Jack visibly stiffens, eyes darting between the two like heâs watching a live-action disaster. Youâre pretty sure Grim just whispered, âThis is gonna be good,â from somewhere behind you.
"Itâs called maintaining oneâs figure," Vil snaps, placing his fork down with calculated grace. âYou wouldnât understand, considering your diet seems to consist entirely of undercooked meat and mediocrity.â
Leona leans back, looking as smug as a cat in a sunbeam. âAt least I eat like a king. Meanwhile, youâre over there grazing like the royal gardener.â
The tension escalates. Vilâs hand twitches toward his fork, and youâre suddenly very sure heâs planning to plant it somewhere deeply unfortunate on Leona.
Time to intervene.
âVil,â you cut in smoothly, leaning closer to him, âcan I just say, you look amazing today? Honestly, I donât think anyone else could pull off a salad with such elegance.â
Vil blinks, momentarily startled, before his lips curve into a faintly smug smile. âWell,â he says, primly dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, âI do have a certain flair for refinement. Itâs not something just anyone can achieve.â
âNo, itâs not,â you say firmly, throwing Leona a warning glance. âAnd anyone who doesnât see that is clearly just... jealous.â
Leona snorts again but doesnât push further, clearly uninterested in escalating now that Vilâs focus is on being praised rather than plotting homicide.
Jack gives you a subtle, grateful nod, visibly relieved that he wonât have to referee another dorm-versus-dorm war.
As Vil returns to his salad with renewed dignity, you sit back with a sigh, silently adding prevented cafeteria murder to your list of daily accomplishments.
Instance 3: Theatre Club Madness
It starts, as all things do, with Floyd and his unique brand of chaos. This time, itâs a priceless antique vase from Pomefioreâs lounge that met its tragic end because Floyd âwanted to see if it could fly.â
Spoiler: it couldnât.
Vil, who witnessed the entire ordeal, was seconds away from summoning a storm of consequences when Floyd, in a rare flash of survival instinct, promised to repay the debt.
âIâll help with your little drama thing,â Floyd had said with a grin too wide to trust.
That promise didnât even make it a full day.
By the time Azul appears in Ramshackle, wringing his hands, you already know somethingâs gone terribly wrong.
âVil asked Floyd to star in some action scenes for his theater production,â Azul says, clearly on edge. âBut Floyd... Well, heâs Floyd.â
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. âLet me guess. He skipped?â
âSkipped, vanished, and laughed about it,â Azul confirms. âVil is furious. I fear he mightââ
âPoison the Loungeâs water?â you finish for him.
Azul nods gravely.
Which is how you find yourself in Pomefioreâs theater, holding a script titled The Tragic Tale of Honor and Glory and wearing an outfit that feels heavier than your life choices.
Vil sits in the audience, arms crossed, as you nervously adjust the overly ornate shoulder pads. âDarling, I adore you,â he says smoothly, âbut if you ruin my vision, we will have words.â
âRight,â you mutter. âNo pressure or anything.â
Rook, of course, is thrilled. âWhat a magnifique turn of events! A real-life romance brought to life on stage!â he says, twirling a prop sword before handing it to you.
You glance at the script and immediately regret every decision thatâs led you here. Floydâs role isnât just action-heavyâitâs absurd. Youâre supposed to fend off imaginary enemies, deliver heartfelt speeches, and somehow âleap gracefullyâ across a prop chasm.
âAre we sure this isnât a punishment?â you whisper to Rook.
âEvery great artist suffers for their craft!â he replies, as unhinged as ever.
Rehearsals are... an experience. Vil critiques your sword stance, your dramatic pauses, and even the way you hold the fake shield. âYouâre not a barbarian,â he snaps at one point. âThis is a knightly role. Show some dignity!â
The only thing keeping you sane is the occasional glimpse of Vilâs smile when you nail a scene. Heâs still your Vilâmeticulous, demanding, and, beneath it all, proud of you.
By the end of the day, youâre exhausted, but no oneâs been poisoned, and Vil is satisfied.
âDarling,â he says as you collapse into a chair, âyou might just be a natural.â
You groan in response, but secretly, youâre glad. If starring in a play keeps the peace and earns you a proud smile from your perfectionist boyfriend, itâs worth every ridiculous leap and over-the-top speech.
You're not letting Floyd off the hook though, he now owes you a blood debt.
Instance 4: Runway Disaster
It happens in slow motion. Kalim, with his usual sunshine energy, bounds over to greet Vil during a fitting for his latest custom runway outfit. In one hand, he holds a crystal goblet of bright red juice.
âKalim, noââ Jamil tries to intervene, but heâs too late.
One excited gesture later, the goblet tilts. The juice spills. And Vilâs pristine white couture ensemble is suddenly dyed a tragic, splotchy crimson.
For a moment, the room is deathly silent. Kalim freezes, his smile faltering as Vilâs expression shifts from shock to something that resembles a villainous Disney queen summoning her final form.
âOh no,â Jamil mutters, stepping back like a man who knows better than to get involved in an impending disaster.
Vilâs fingers twitch, and actual poison gas starts to swirl faintly around him.
âYouâŠâ he begins, voice deadly calm, eyes narrowed at Kalim, who looks like heâs considering whether running or apologizing is the better survival tactic.
Before Vil can unleash his fury (or toxins), you jump in, grabbing his arm like a brave but foolish hero.
âWait! Think of the headlines,â you blurt. âThe great Vil Schoenheit doesnât panic when disaster strikes. He innovates. He adapts. He turns accidents into opportunities!â
Vil pauses, glancing at you with an arched brow. âGo on.â
âThis isnât a catastropheâitâs a creative challenge,â you say, channeling your best salesperson energy. âYou can redesign the outfit on the fly, show off your genius in real time, and prove why youâre the best.â
Jamil, whoâs still lurking near the door, lets out a faint groan. âDonât drag me into thisââ
âPerfect!â you cut him off, pointing dramatically. âJamil, help us. Youâre good with details. Kalim, youâre... great at handing over fabric?â
âI am?â Kalim perks up, always happy to help, even when heâs the source of the problem.
Vil exhales sharply but lowers his hands, the faint poison clouds dissipating. He turns to you, his lips twitching upward in something resembling reluctant approval. âAt least someone here recognizes talent when they see it.â
Half an hour later, Jamil is threading needles with the speed of a man who just wants this ordeal to end, Kalim is cheerfully sorting through fabric swatches, and Vil is in full designer mode, issuing commands and adjusting details.
Youâre stuck holding a pin cushion and occasionally offering words of encouragement, but hey, no oneâs been poisoned, and Vilâs outfit is somehow looking even better than before.
When itâs finished, Vil studies the revamped ensemble with a critical eye, then turns to you.
âNot bad,â he says, which, coming from Vil, is practically a standing ovation.
Kalim beams. âThis was fun! Letâs spill juice more often!â
Jamil groans audibly, and Vil rolls his eyes, muttering something about how his brilliance is wasted on âuncultured chaos.â But when he glances at you, thereâs a soft glimmer of gratitude.
Maybe you wonât have to stop a literal poison attack every day, but youâre definitely earning your stripes as the official Vil Schoenheit Disaster Managerâą.
Instance 5: Epel, why?
Epelâs first mistake is thinking he can sneak a greasy burger into the Pomefiore lounge. His second mistake is sitting right in front of Vil to eat it.
The moment Vil spots the offensive food item, his entire posture stiffens. Slowly, he sets down the teacup he was holding, a faint air of menace radiating from him.
âEpel,â Vil says, voice dangerously calm, âare you seriously eating... that in my presence?â
Epel freezes mid-bite, the burger hovering inches from his mouth. âUh, I mean... itâs just a quick snackââ
âItâs processed garbage,â Vil snaps, his tone sharp enough to cut diamonds. âDo you even know whatâs in it? Chemicals, preservatives, and enough grease to clog your arteries by the time youâre twenty-five!â
You can almost see the poison aura starting to swirl, and your instincts kick in. Thereâs only one way to de-escalate this. Compliments. Lots of them.
âYou know, Vil,â you interject brightly, sidling closer to him, âIâve been meaning to tell you how absolutely flawless your skin looks today. Did you do something different? A new serum, maybe?â
Vil blinks, momentarily thrown off. âI did switch to a more concentrated vitamin C serum this morning.â
âWow,â you gush, âitâs really working. Youâre practically glowing! Honestly, you look like you just stepped off the cover of a magazine.â
Vil preens slightly, his focus shifting from Epel to himself. Epel catches your subtle hand signalâRun, you fool, run while you still can!âand starts to edge toward the door, burger clutched tightly in his hands.
Rook, who has been lurking silently nearby as usual, suddenly claps his hands together, eyes sparkling. âAh, mon cher ami, how touching! Such devotion, such cleverness, to save our dear Epel from the wrath of Monsieur Vil! Truly, a love as radiant as the sun itself!â
Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, then at you, clearly aware of what youâve just pulled. For a second, you think he might ignore your distraction entirely and summon some ancient Pomefiore curse to turn Epel into a cautionary tale.
But then he sighs and shakes his head. âYouâre insufferable,â he mutters, though thereâs a faint, reluctant smile on his lips.
Later, as Rook waxes poetic about your âunwavering dedication,â Vil leans in close and murmurs, âI hope you know that if it were anyone else, I wouldnât have let this slide.â
âI know,â you say, grinning.
âAnd you owe me a handmade, organic, non-processed dinner tonight,â he adds, though his tone is more affectionate than demanding.
Fair enough. Youâve just saved Epel from doom and earned yourself a little more of Vilâs soft spot in the process. Not a bad trade-off.
Instance 6: Housewarden meeting
It all starts when Idia mutters the fatal words under his breath at the housewarden meeting.
âSkincareâs just a corporate scam for gullible people, anyway.â
The air goes still. A deathly quiet spreads across the room, save for the faint thump of a pen dropping somewhere in the background. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Vil, who has frozen mid-reading. Slowly, methodically, Vil sets the paper down with the poise of a storm brewing on the horizon.
âExcuse me?â Vilâs voice is icy, his gaze locking onto Idia with the precision of a predator that has just spotted its prey.
Idia, realizing his monumental mistake, turns pale. His flaming hair flickers nervously. âUhâuhâwait, no, I didnât meanâuh, you know, for other people, not you! Definitely not you, Youâre obviously an exceptionâuh, outlierâuhâuhhhhh...â
You can see it in Vilâs eyes: hexes. Hexes upon hexes. Idiaâs social credit is about to go into the negatives, and itâs up to you to stop this trainwreck before it derails completely.
âVil, darling,â you say quickly, sliding up beside him and placing a calming hand on his arm, âwhy waste your brilliance on people who clearly donât understand skincare? Theyâre the ones missing out. Why not show them how effective it really is instead?â
Vilâs brow raises, his attention turning to you. âShow them?â
You nod earnestly. âAbsolutely. A real-world demonstration. Iâll be your model. You can prove to the entire campus how flawless your methods are by working your magic on me.â
Idia, still rooted to his chair, looks at you with wide, desperate eyes, mouthing, Thank you, oh my god.
Vil considers this for a moment, the dangerous glint in his eyes dimming slightly. âHm. That does have potential. Itâs true that nothing speaks louder than results...â He narrows his gaze at you. âBut donât think this will be easy. Youâre going to follow my instructions exactly.â
âOf course,â you say, internally praying you donât end up with a ten-step skincare routine involving rare herbs and unicorn tears.
Three hours later, youâre sitting in Vilâs dorm room with half your face slathered in a gold-infused sheet mask, while he critiques the lighting for your before-and-after photos. Idia has not only escaped with his life but is actively hiding in Ignihyde, no doubt sobbing into his console for letting this happen.
The next morning, Ortho drops off a neatly wrapped package with a note:
"Thank you for keeping Big Brother from turning into a toad. This is our thank you. Please use it wisely. - Ortho"
Inside is a supply of snacks that Vil would never allow, soda and a very generous gift card.
At least your skin has never looked better
Instance 7: Fashion Show Debate
It happens during the final stages of Vilâs meticulously planned fashion show rehearsal in Pomefioreâs grand hall. The decorators are frantically running around, while Vil oversees every detail with the precision of a hawk. Itâs flawlessâuntil Sebekâs voice booms through the air like a thunderclap.
âFASHION IS A POINTLESS PURSUIT WHEN COMPARED TO THE NOBLE ART OF SWORDSMANSHIP!â
Every head swivels toward Sebek, who stands tall, arms crossed, utterly convinced of his own wisdom. He continues, undeterred by the growing silence. âWho cares what you wear when youâre on the battlefield?! True strength lies not in silks and satins, but in the heart of a warrior!â
Vil freezes mid-step, his clipboard trembling in his hand. Slowly, he turns, and you swear you see the faintest shimmer of poison green pooling in his eyes. His glare could cut through steel.
âExcuse me?â Vil says, each syllable sharp and measured.
Sebek, being Sebek, barrels on, entirely oblivious to the danger heâs wading into. âClothing is irrelevant when facing an opponent of true skill! A warriorâs resolve is their most valuable armor!â
Lilia, lounging nearby, starts wheezing with laughter, clearly finding the whole ordeal the height of entertainment. âOh, this is delightful. Do go on, Sebek!â
You, however, sense disaster brewing. The tension in Vilâs jaw could snap diamonds, and Sebekâs volume seems to be increasing with every word. If this isnât diffused soon, youâre going to witness Sebek walking the runway in a cursed tutu and heels.
Thinking quickly, you stride over to Sebek and place a firm hand over his mouth. âSebek, remember the gargoyle incident?â you say in a low voice.
Sebek freezes, his face going pale. You lean in closer for effect.
âYou know,â you continue casually, âthe time you spent twenty minutes praising a gargoyle in the castle courtyard because you thought it was Malleus in the dark? Magnificent presence were your exact words, I believe?â
Sebekâs eyes widen in pure panic.
âWhen you finally realized your mistake,â you add, voice dripping with mock sympathy, âyou begged me to swear on my life that I wouldnât tell Malleus. Do you think heâd laugh? I think heâd laugh.â
Sebek emits a muffled noise beneath your hand, his entire posture deflating. He waves his arms frantically in surrender. You let go, and he turns stiffly to Vil, bowing his head. âMy apologies. I spoke out of turn.â
Vil raises a perfectly arched eyebrow but seems satisfied with the reluctant apology. âAs you should be. Now, be silent, or Iâll personally ensure you end in heels forever.â
Crisis averted, you glance at Lilia, who gives you an approving wink. Sebek, meanwhile, retreats to the shadows, muttering under his breath about unfair tactics and treacherous secrets.
As the models resume their walk, Vil brushes past you with a quiet, âGood work, darling. Though Iâll admit, I wouldnât have minded seeing him in heels.â
Itâs one of those rare, quiet evenings where the world outside seems to hum in stillness. Youâre sprawled on the bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, savoring the precious downtime. The soft creak of the floorboards is your only warning before Vilâs hands are gently pulling you into his arms.
Startled, you set your phone aside and look up at him. âWhatâs up?â
Vil doesnât answer immediately. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms encircling you as if shielding you from the entire universe. His expression is unusually soft, his gaze tracing over your features like heâs memorizing every detail.
âIâve been thinking,â he says at last, his voice quieter than youâre used to. âYou do so much for me. More than I deserve sometimes.â
You blink, caught off guard. âWhat are you talking about? You deserve the world, Vil.â
A faint smile tugs at his lips, but thereâs something vulnerable in the way he looks away for a moment. âI know Iâm... a little demanding.â
You snort, which earns you a mock glare. âOkay, fine, maybe a little more than a little." You laugh âBut itâs not like I mind.â
âYou should. Most people would,â he counters, but his tone is softer now, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. âYouâve been working so hard to keep up with me, to make me happy, even when Iâm being a diva.â
That makes you laugh, and the sound seems to melt the last of his hesitation. You cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly against his flawless skin. âVil, itâs not hard work. Itâs a labor of love.â
His eyes widen just a fraction, and then his smile bloomsâgentle, radiant, and so genuinely Vil. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. âYouâre impossible,â he murmurs, but the affection in his voice betrays him.
âAnd yet you love me anyway,â you quip, grinning.
Vil huffs a laugh, his arms tightening around you as he pulls you into a proper embrace. âHopelessly.â
You stay like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the world outside forgotten. Itâs just you and Vil, caught in a moment that feels like love personifiedâsweet, steady, and infinite.
(this is kinda a spiritual successor to the how to tame your dragon malleus fic)
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#vil schoenheit x you#vil schoenheit#vil
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áčàŁȘ ážáž đđđđđâđ đđ đđđđ đđ ê±ê±



đđđđđđđ what I think attending a race weekend with your f1 boyfriend would be like . . .
đđđđđđđ. fem!reader. just fluff. maybe some suggestive dialogue. flirting. đđđđ. charles leclerc , lando norris , carlos sainz , lewis hamilton , oscar piastri , pierre gasly . . .
àł â đharles đeclerc
he insists you wear some of his ferrari merch or the stuff he knows the team sent you. if you show up in a non-ferrari outfit, heâll pout until you cave. he loves all your outfits and thinks youâre the most beautiful girl no matter what you wear but he needs his girl in red on race weekend.
youâd be standing with the team, chatting with someone from hospitality in a black skirt and cute top, and as soon as he spots you, itâs all, âwhereâs the red baby? no jacket today? not even the cap?â
and heâs half-joking but also not.
so youâd roll your eyes, dig through your tote bag, and throw his hoodie on and immediately heâs satisfied.
heâll secretly take pictures of you when youâre not looking. wearing his oversized windbreaker with sunglasses on, sitting in the back of the garage like a damn queen, and saves them in a hidden album titled âmon ange.â most of your insta pics from race weekend if from this folder (if he feels generous enough to share them with the rest of the world and not gatekeep them)
and when a fan posts a blurry picture of you two holding hands post-quali and captions it âpower couple in red,â he sends it to you with a heart and a âwe look good, non? i love when we match outfitsâ
he totally gets all soft and boyish whenever youâre in team gear. like youâre his little good luck charm in red.
charles isnât really big on pda at the paddock, but his hand always finds yours when youâre walking together. pinkies linked, fingers brushing. he makes sure youâre close to him and can keep up while walking into the chaos of the weekend.
when you attend he has to kiss you before every practice/quali/race. right cheek, left cheek, forehead. itâs a thing. can so see this being filmed by someone and it blows up cause everyone just thinks itâs the cutest thing. pierre commenting âhe never kisses me like this before a raceđâ and charles responding with âitâs wifey privilegesđâ
he writes your initials on the inside of his gloves in marker. itâs not a big thing, no one knows but you and him. but before every race, he looks down at them and kisses them.
if a commentator ever tries to stir drama about your presence being a âdistractionâ charles shuts that shit down instantly. âsheâs my calm. not a distraction. if anything, I drive better when sheâs here.â
late night after race day, when itâs all over and heâs showered and in a hoodie with damp hair, he pulls you into his lap and murmurs, âI like this part the best. just us. no cameras. no noise.â
àł â đando đorris
lando would try to be lowkey about you coming to the race but he would fail miserably because he just looks so much more happy and excited and everyone wants to know whatâs going on that has him in this good of a mood until eventually they see you walk into the paddock on saturday and everything makes sense all of a sudden.
if you wear his number on your outfit (especially in a subtle, fashion-y way), he will always post it on his story. a close up pic of your shoulder with the little â4âpeeking out and the caption: âbest looking fan in the paddockâ
lando loves loves loves a pre-race nap with you. heâs so clingy about it. burritoâd in the duvet, face smushed into your neck, hair all messy, mumbles like, âdonât leave. you have to stay until my alarm. itâs scienceâ
hates all the attention heâs getting from everyone but with you there itâs a little more bearable.
if the race doesnât go as planned, he goes straight to his driver room and youâd be unsure what to do at first, choosing to give him some space but he texts you and tells you to come to him.
and the two of you just stay in there for a bit. cuddled up together. youâre not saying anything, not trying to make him feel better, just letting him be whatever he needs to be for a bit.
âyou still proud of me?â heâd mumble after a while and when you answer with a reassuring âalwaysâ he already feels ten times better
loves that you get on with the rest of the gridâs girlfriends so much but is such a little baby about not having all your attention on him
âwe have to do something about all our girls sneaking around to see each other man. weâre losing them. theyâve unionized. she said âIâll meet you after qualiâ and then disappeared into wag dimensionâ heâd complain to the guys at the drivers parade
âwhat? you upset that sheâd rather hang out with the girls than give you back rubs?â carlos teases and lando shrugs âyes actuallyâ
heâs a slut for forehead kisses before he gets in the car. will literally lean down and go, âgive me the magic touch,â and tilt his head like a puppy until you do it.
àł â đarlos đainz
carlos constantly thinks youâre hungry. doesnât matter if you just ate. if he walks into hospitality and sees you without a snack or drink in hand, heâs immediately like, âdid you eat? what did you have? thatâs not enough. Iâll get you somethingâ
he keeps an extra water bottle on hand just for you. even on race day when he has a million things going on, heâll pause and be like, âdrink some water, mi amor. Itâs hot todayâ
so protective in the paddock. always walks a little in front of you to shield you from cameras, media, random people rushing around.
one time a cameraman brushed your shoulder trying to squeeze past and you stumbled just slightly. carlos caught your waist immediately, steady and quiet, eyes flicking up with that calm but donât test me look and muttering a soft âcarefulâ to the man. not rude. not loud. just firm enough to say this is my girl. watch where youâre going.
carlos is a post session cuddler. he showers, throws on a hoodie, and climbs right into bed with his head on your stomach. âjust for five minutesâ is what he always says but will wake up 40 minutes later and be like, âokay, now Iâm ready to go to dinnerâ
uses you as his personal belongings holder while he races. will put his sunglasses on your head and his watch around your wrist. tell you to, "keep 'em safe for me 'til I come back okay?" with a kiss to your head before he jumps in the car.
will make you have little âtaste testsâ with him rating the paddock/hospitality food. you guys have little favourite dishes from countries all over the world.
àł â đewis đamilton
when lewis knows youâre attending a race with him, he makes sure the team knows so you get VIP treatment the whole weekend.
right there next to his crew, thereâs a sleek black seat with your name stitched into the back and next to it is a smaller seat for roscoe. you and roscoe chill next to each other and cheer him on together.
someone will come up to you every thirty minutes or so and ask if they can get you anything. will bring you water and your favourite snack unrequested and when you try to protest theyâll just say the boss insisted on it and theyâre not about to get on his bad side.
lewis is of course known for his high fashion in the paddock, but he also loves matching outfits with you. not the whole thing maybe, you both have your seperate tastes and styles but maybe youâll always colour code. or wear the same sneakers! and roscoe will have the same colour bow tie or jacket or something.
when lewis has braids done, heâll sometimes ask you to tie them back for him before he heads to the car or during race weekends. itâs such a sweet moment because, while heâs incredibly independent and most of his race rituals are isolated, he enjoys having that little moment with you before things get hectic. itâs something personal and intimate.
similar to carlos heâll have you hold his accessories. put his chain around your neck and his rings on your fingers until heâs done racing.
there are so many pics/vids of the two of you on lewisâ scooter just zooming around in the paddock. nearly running over people or one of you falling off and laughing. you guys will do the âtrack walkâ on the scooter and maybe heâll let you control it. make jokes about youâre racing skills. âaw you went outside track limits there baby, gonna get us a penaltyâ heâd tease with a kiss against your head.
likes it when you drive to the track cause heâs gonna be driving all weekend and itâs nice to just shut his brain off a little before the hectic day starts.
has you name tattooed on his chest right over his heart and your name on his helmet.
àł â đscar điastri
this boy loses you constantly over the weekendđ letâs blame it on you a tiny bit for just being so interested in everything that you walk a bit slowly sometimes or your attention gets caught and youâll stop for a split second and when oscar turns to look at you, youâre gone.
half of his netflix clips are just âman I lost my girlfriend again. I never know where this girl isâ
itâs become a bit of a running joke in the mclaren garage cause oscar will poke his head in every room and be like âhave you seen my gf?â the crew starts putting up reward flyers for when youâre found
but this is how his little handholding habit started. he constantly reaches for your hand or loops his finger in your belt loop to ensure the two of you donât wander away from one another.
can see you losing your lipgloss once in the paddock and ever since then oscar has gone full airport dad mode every time you leave the paddock. âyou have your phone? lipgloss? glasses? jacket?â and will run through the little checklist until heâs sure you have all your possessions.
will make sure the two of you actually spend time together when youâre there. donât get me wrong heâs 100% focused on racing still, but every free moment he has you guys are watching your show together or playing board games or something. just makes such an effort to actively spend time with you.
the two of you take a photo before every race (if youâre there) it started as a little habit for his mom because sheâd always ask for a picture of the two of you over the weekend and since then you just always take a picture and itâs pretty sweet to think youâll have your memories captured at most races he competes in during his career.
àł â đierre đasly
the #1 reason pierre brings you is so that he has someone to blame when heâs late to events. heâs chronically late as charles exposed and whenever someone calls him heâll just say heâs waiting on you đ
like charles calling him before dinner and asking why heâs late and he just goes âmy girl takes forever to get ready you know by nowâ with a wink towards you and a kiss against your palm when you slap him for his antics.
this man is not afraid of pda. arm around your waist, thumb stroking your hip. holding your hand while walking through the paddock. hand on your thigh in the hospitality tent. always touching you in some way. and if anyone chirps him? âwhat, iâm french. weâre affectionateâ
he gives you an important job. pierre claims youâre vital to his race prep, even if itâs just handing him his water bottle or double-checking his suit zipper. âdonât forget to give me my good luck tap, baby. left shoulder, always. if I crash, itâs on you and my mechanics will blame youâ heâd tease and even tho heâs just joking he loves how serious and focused you are when you do that left side tap.
heâll jokingly narrate your every move. walking up to the garage? âand here she comes, the love of my life, looking like a goddess on this sunny grand prix morningâ youâre just holding his coffee and shaking your head, but itâs gets filmed and the fans are obsessed with how cute you two are.
©lcvecove â please refrain from copying/taking inspiration/posting any of my content to your blog or any other platform.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#pierre gasly x reader#oscar piastri x reader#carlos sainz x reader#ê° â§ â đ”cvecove â â§ ê±
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Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.
Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n
Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.
a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there
warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff
summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside
As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.
You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.
âFive, where are we?â You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. âWhere are we going?â
âIâm taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,â he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesnât have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though youâre skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you donât have powers, and Five canât risk something happening to you while heâs preoccupied with saving the world.
âYouâre leaving me?!â You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesnât budge.
âItâs only temporary, I promise you,â he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. âIâll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know itâs safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and Iâll come back for you.â
âFive, what ifâŠâ you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, ââŠwhat if you donât come back?â
Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. Heâd never lie to you, and he knows he canât guarantee heâll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline heâd found, but he doesnât have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time youâll be together as husband and wife?
Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day youâll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. âYouâre just going to have to trust me.â
You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize youâre staring back at the face of your husband.
But how can that be when heâs standing right in front of you?
Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgÀnger to figure out just what exactly is going on.
Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Maxâs despite Fiveâs protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then youâll stop at nothing to get them.
Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; youâre not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.
âHave a seat,â the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and youâre both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. âIâm glad you found me.â
âWhat is this place?â Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiterâs uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.
âThis is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.â
As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, âItâs on the house.â
Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, âHow did he know that-â
âPumpkin pie is your favorite?â The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. âWe all know that, because we all know you.â
âMe?â You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention youâre getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?
âMind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?â Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.
ââYourâ wife?â The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. âTake a number, pal.â
âWhat deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,â the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.
âMy y/n was a trained assassin,â the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.
âMine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,â another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. âShe gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.â
âIf you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?â Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and youâre both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgĂ€ngers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why werenât they doing the same? âWhy come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you canât be in it?â
A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.
âWhen us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,â the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. âThe Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.â
Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, âViktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.â
âMy wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.â
âDad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.â
âCha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.â
You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much theyâve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.
âNo matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,â the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. âIf I couldnât even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?â
âIâm sorry for your loss,â you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. âIâm sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I donât think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because thatâs what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.â
âGod, you sound just like her,â he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. âBelieve me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, thereâs no escaping the apocalypse.â
âSo thatâs it? Thereâs nothing we can do?â Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. Heâs nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and youâre still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.
âYou can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,â the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. âYou got lucky, you still have your wife, so why donât you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?â
âIâm not giving up on this,â your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. âThere has to be a way to save the world, and I wonât stop until I figure it out myself.â
You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.
âI should probably go after him,â you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he canât help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time heâll ever get to see you in person, and heâd like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.
âIf he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,â he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.
Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Fiveâs love for you knows no bounds.
#request#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves#number five#five#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#number five x reader#number five imagine#five x reader#five imagine#tua#tua x reader#tua imagine
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BROKEN ELEVATOR (h.s)
(masterlist) || (taglist)



harry styles x fem!reader
summary: after a late night at the office, harry expects to be the only one left. heâs surprised when he finds a single desk lamp still onâyours. leaving at the same time, the tense silence envelopes you during your elevator ride. but when the elevator breaks down, leaving you stranded with no way out, the tension crackles into something new.
word count: 8.3k
cw: smut, dirty talk, penetration, finger play, oral, overstimulation, unprotected sex
a/n: happy reading you freaks ;) this is my first likeâŠfull out smut so lmk what you think. iâm now going to go baptize myself in holy water.
đ ïč â ê© â đ â âč
Groaning as I power down my desktop, my eyelids threaten to shut on their own accord. The darkness that I get basked between is one I relish in. A quiet, still office. No longer bombarded by ringing phones or an influx of emails. Itâs done.
At least for today.
My eyes burn from the sting of staring at a screen all day, knowing these stupid blue light glasses my mother recommended can do nothing to save me at this point. I feel achy, as if Iâd just finished with an intense workout, not just sat at a desk for 10 hours.
Forcing myself up from my chair, I stretch out my limbs, soothing the ache in my lower back. I donât even bother to throw my suit jacket back on. Thereâs no point. Iâm the only person whoâs crazy enough to still be at the office. But work never ends when you own the company, I guess. Lord knows Iâm just going home to lock myself in my home office for 3 more hours.
When I first started this company, I knew itâd be hard work and grueling hours. What I didnât know is all that it would take from me. If you want a social life, donât own a business. If you want stress free hours, even off the clock, donât start a business. Hell, there isnât even enough timeâlet alone enough energy in me anymoreâto get laid
I think that one has me the most on edge.
Stomping around my spacious office, I gather my things and toss my jacket over my shoulder before cracking open the door. It feels like itâs been hours since I closed it, locked it, and told everyone to fuck off for the rest of the day so I could concentrate.
I guess one could say Iâm notorious for being quiteâŠcold in the office. Iâm not a boss whoâs shoulder is open to cry on when the job gets tough. I want the work done, and done well. Anything other than that is unacceptable. If Iâm working hard, my employees have to be working 10x harder just to reach my level. Iâm not going to apologize for that. And if they canât handle that? Onwards and out they go.
Stepping out into the main space seems to calm me. All of the cubicles are left empty and lifeless, deserted hours ago right when the clock struck 5 pm.
Well, all except one.
Off in the far distance of the office floor, one lamp is still on. And it doesnât surprise me. At least, not anymore. Itâs become a constant. Almost a competition. Which one of us can stay later? Endure the back and eye pain, send the most emails, and log off the latest? But only one of us still does it with a smile on their face.
And that is not me.
Youâve been working here in the social media department for almost 3 years now. In fact, you sort of invented the department here. Before you, I couldnât understand why a sex toy brand like mine needed a social media presence. But when you came in for an interview, for any old position here, you suggested the idea and changed the game. Taking charge, our sales grew an exponential amount from some simple online posts. You follow the trends, keep the business name in the headlines and put so much fucking money in my pockets.
Iâm grateful for the work you do, but those words have never been shared with you. Like I said, I have an asshole reputation to uphold.
The minute I see the lamp at your desk flick off, my feet resume their trek toward the elevator. The only sound being my shoes thudding against the marble floors and the sounds of rustling as you pack up. And then itâs your heels, tapping to the same rhythm as my feet, heading in the same direction.
Iâve got no clue why, but I slow my pace.
We reach the elevator at the same time, but youâre the only one kind enough to flash me a smile in greeting. All I do is nod and press the call button for us.
The silence threatens to suffocate me, and I wonder if youâre feeling the tension too. That crackling, pin straight spine, choked out feeling in your chest. Itâs consuming me. So much so that I nearly jump when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
I motion for you to go aheadâI might be an asshole but Iâm still a gentleman. Okay, maybe not that much of a gentleman because Iâm unable to stop my eyes from dropping to the way your hips sway as you step in.
Starting a company as a man who has a weakness for women in pencil skirts wasnât a good idea.
Snapping my gaze back up, I step into the elevator with you just before the doors close. A good few feet between us and nothing but the sound of the elevator engine accompanying us. I mentally pray this ride goes fast.
âLong day?â youâre the only one with the balls to break the silence.
âMm,â I hum, âdefinitely.â
âSame here.â Your hands clasp together in front of you, an awkward stance to match the awkward energy. âI actually wanted to talk to you aboutââ
Your words get cut off by a loud screeching sound. It jolts the elevator, rattling us around until I have to hold myself still with the wall, and you catch onto my arm. The spike of adrenaline in my body forces me not to think about the contact. Lights flicker above our heads, but the movement stops. Like, all together. Weâre no longer headed down to the parking garage. Hell, the button pad isnât even lit up anymore! Weâre justâŠstuck.
I instantly break into survival mode.
Wrenching myself from the wall and your hold, I slam my hand against the button pad, hoping anything will make this shit run again. But itâs no use. I press the alarm, hearing it ring out through the throngs of the building I know is empty at this hour. God, why canât I just leave at 5 like a regular person? I try for the call button, listening to the automated message before it begins to ring. And ring. And ring. Andâyou get the picture. Not a soul picks up. In fact, the lineâs static.
âAre we stuck?â your frail voice pulls me from my tunnel vision. Youâve glued yourself to the back wall of the confined space, fear etched onto your face with no will to leave.
âPlease donât tell me youâre claustrophobic,â is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.
âNo, but I do have a fear of plummeting to my death!â In any other circumstance, I wouldâve laughed.
âWe arenât going to plunge to our deaths,â I sigh, not even believing my own words. But someone has to keep their head on straight here. âIt was storming today, lightning probably struck the power out. We just have to wait for the backup generator to kick in.â I walk over to the closed doors, assessing the possibilities.
âHow long until that happens?â
âI donât know!â My own fear makes me snap accidentally. âI make sex toys for a living!â
âWe could be here all nightâŠâ you mutter, your voice sounding distant, but Iâm too preoccupied to offer comfort or a second thought. âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm gonna pull the doors open, see if maybe we stalled on a floor, or at least enough floor for us to slip out onto.â
âYou canât possibly pull those doors open! Theyâre made of steel! And without the engines running, youâll be pushing against the resistance ofââ
With a major ego boost, your words die in your throat when I start to force the doors to separate. It makes an awful squeaking sound, but itâs working. Itâs actually working! I mask my excitement easily, acting as if I knew Iâd be able to do it all along.
But that excitement was too good to be true, a fleeting moment squashed like gum on the bottom of someone's shoe.
A wall. Thatâs all thatâs to be seen. A fucking slab of concrete and no open air in sight. Fuck.
âOh my god⊠Weâre gonna die in here,â you practically cry.
âWeâre not going to die.â Again, I have no idea, but Iâm trying to convince myself my words are true. âEmergency services will be here soon.â
âWhat fucking emergency services?! We didnât get through to anyone, no one else is in this building this late, and no one is coming to save us!â You sink down onto the floor, your back pressed against the metal wall. I can hear your labored breaths from here.
I might be known as the asshole around the office, but Iâm not a completely heartless bastard. I see someone in distress, I offer a hand and support. Well, in some cases. And this is one of them.
I waltz over to you, sinking down in front of you and hesitantly placing my hands on your shaking knees, the ones youâve pulled up against your chest. Your chin is tucked against your chest, hiding from the situationâhiding from me.
âHeyâŠâ I think thatâs the softest Iâve ever spoken. âListen, weâre going to be just fine. Shit like this happens all the time and the cords hardly ever snapââ
âHardly?!â Your head whips up, eyes puffy and red from withheld tears.
Shit. âDo you want me to lie to you?â You shake your head. âAll Iâm saying is that itâs a one in a million chance that we drop. And, hey, you donât know? We could very well be just 10 feet from the ground floor and the only thing that would happen would be a small stomach drop.â
âI hate drop rides,â you whine, your bottom lip trembling in its pout.
This time, itâs my turn to drop my chin to my chest. âJesus, youâre impossible.â
I maneuver myself until Iâm slumped against the wall beside you, having given up on the whole âsave the dayâ act. Who knows how long weâll be stuck here, I might as well get comfortable. An idea popping into my head has me mentally cursing myself for my stupidity, reaching into my pocket for my phone.
Of course, my phone! How could I not have thought of it sooner? All we have to do is just call someone toâ Oh, and itâs dead. Yep. Dead as can be.
Fuck.
âDo you have your phone?â I grumble, peering over at you as you drag your head back out of its hiding place. âCheck if you have service in here.â
âOh my god, youâre a genius!â you gasp, scrambling to grab your phone from the purse you discarded when you thought we were freefalling. And I wouldnât say the notion makes me a genius, actually quite the opposite since it took me so long to think of, but Iâll accept the stroke of my ego. When you snatch your phone, the screen illuminates your face in the flickering lighting. âItâs spotty, but itâs something. Oh, shoot, Iâm on SOS⊠Wait! No, itâs baâitâs gone again.â
Groaning, my head hits the metal wall, staring up at the matching metal ceiling. Damn, this place is cramped. Maybe Iâm the one with claustrophobia?
âI can try to call 911 anyway? Isnât that a thing? Like, your calls go through even without service?â you ask me like Iâd have any clue.
âItâs worth a try.â
You sigh a smile as you tap around on your phone and hold it up to your ear. Itâs so silent in here without the engines running, I can hear the dial tone.
âHi! Hi! Yes!â Oh my god, it worked. Your hand juts out to slap against my bicep in your fit of joy. Itâs hard to smother the smile growing on my own face. Especially when your hand settles to a stop, still resting on my arm. Now that the initial adrenaline is gone, I do have time to focus on the touch. âWe're trapped in an elevator! Yes! No, the engines went down! I donât knowâŠ20 minutes? No, no, none of itâŠâ
I tune out your voice as you drabble on, giving out our location and any other useful information they need to come save us. Itâs easy to do it when Iâm instead so hyper focused on the contact of your hand on my body.
Like I said, itâs been a while since Iâve gotten laid. Now Iâm like a prepubescent teenager who just brushed shoulders with a cute girl in the hall. Itâs pathetic.
Somewhere in between my ogling and internal freakout, you had ended the call, andâto my dismayâmoved to drop your hand back to your side.
âThey said it might be a little, thereâs some fire at a restaurant, but theyâre coming!â
âGood⊠Thatâs really good,â my voice doesnât even sound like my own, too stalled on the buzzing your touch has leftover on me to care.
This time, when you slump back against the wall, you arenât on the verge of tears. I guess with just the promise of help on the way your mind has erased all possibilities of this huge metal box unhinging. Because in the time it takes for them to get here, it totally canât happen, right? Wrong. But I wonât say that out loud. Dealing with you being a nervous wreck would have been worse than dealing with you in relief.
Even if it has you saying, âWe should play truth or dare to pass the time.â
âTruth or dare? We arenât 10.â I grimace at the thought, holding back an intense eyeroll.
âCome on! Itâs just something to pass the time!â
âNo, Iâm not playing that ridiculous game.â I know Iâm sounding like a complete assâto which Iâve accepted I amâbut Iâve gotta draw the line somewhere.
âTruth or dare, Harry?â you push.
âI told you, Iâm not playing.â
âTruth or dare?â you repeat, pressing further. But if you press anymore, I might just cave in.
âNo.â
âFine, you can ask me first.â
Iâm about to snap the elevator cords myself, but then I decide I can have some fun with this. âTruth or dare?â
Your eyes light up when the words leave my mouth, thinking youâve finally won. âHmm⊠Dare.â
âI dare you to not play this game.â
âHey! Thatâs not fair!â you whine like a child.
âLifeâs not fair. Deal with it,â I retort.
âYou can be a real asshole, you know that?â your words surprise me. Not the adjective youâve used to describe me, but the way you so freely verbalized it.
Still, I find myself replying, âYeah, I know.â
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry,â youâre quick to apologize, the previous words probably slipping without your consent, âI didnât mean to say that! That was so uncalled for andâ Wait, did you say you know?â
I nod. âYeah, I know. I know what you all say when you think I donât hear. Iâve accepted this fact.â
âHarry, Iâmââ
âDonât apologize again. Really, itâs fine,â I cut you off, taking your words and rolling them off my shoulders.
âItâs not fine, itâs not,â you continue, and I can feel the guilt oozing off of you. âNo one should be talked about like that, no matter the situation. And while I havenât personally added to the email chain, I do apologize on everyoneâs behalf.â
âWait, waitâthereâs an email chain?â
Even if the flickering lights gave out and basked us in darkness, Iâd still be able to see how red your cheeks turn. âShit,â you mutter.
A small laugh escapes my lips at your embarrassing slip up. The uncommon sound leaving my lips has a tentative smile growing on your lips, and the tension of your early admission slowly leaves your shoulders. Then the silence comes. A question of âwhere do we go from here?â hangs in the air. It's slightly uncomfortable. After me being an asshole, you calling me out for being an asshole, and an oddly tender moment; thereâs not much else to say. But not saying anything is worse.
Just when Iâm about to succumb to my worst nightmares and reignite the game of Truth or Dare, your phone buzzes against the carpeted surface beneath us. At least it gives you an out from the suffocating silence, I think. Picking up your phone, I canât help but study you closelyâIâve got nothing better to do. The screen casts a glow over you, and I watch as your eyebrows furrow. The tiniest of eye rolls and then youâre turning your phone upside down on the floor again. But you canât escape whatever you were looking atâit buzzes again. The steps repeat five times over until you canât fight the groan that leaves your lips.
âEverything good?â I canât help myself from asking. My curiosity is piqued, sue me!
âItâs fine,â you mumble, clearly not fine. That sentiment is only set in stone when your phone buzzes again and you nearly toss it against the wall. Itâs my interception that stops you from making the mistake.
My hand grips your wrist midair and yanks your phone from your hand before you can check it again. I donât need you getting overly agitated and accidentally manifesting our plummet.
âGive me my phone back.â You reach out for it, but I pull it away, out of your reach. And, damn, the thing buzzes about 3 times in just this short time. âHarry, give me my phone.â
âWhoâs blowing up your phone?â Itâs really none of my business, but Iâm a nosy bastard.
Wow, these confines are really making me realize all of my flaws.
âItâs no one,â you grumble, reaching out again. I hold your phone further up and out.
âOh? So no one has you about to smash your phone against the elevator wall?â
âHarry, Iâm serious,â you whine, once again reaching and failing. The repetition of your movements has you suddenly so much closer.
âSo am I!â I laugh. âI donât need your phone cracking against the wall just right and sending this metal box freefalling!â
âYou said we werenât going to die!â you gasp.
âWe wonât,â I reply, âif you donât go all crazy with rage and do something stupid.â You sigh and sit back on your knees, seemingly giving up on your fight. I donât trust it. Proven right when you toss yourself forward and try to snatch it againâto no avail. âIs it a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A scammer trying to get you to become a princess of some made up country?â Your lack of laughter bruises me. I thought that was funny. âOr maybe itâs a crazy ex?â
Your lack of response is response enough. Shit. The realization that Iâve cracked the code has you flinging yourself again, but you take it a step further this time. Your whole body practically folds over me in your attempt, leaving your legs landing with one on either side of my hips. Instinctively, my hands fly out to stable you. Double shit.
You still. No longer in a rush to grab your phone back, no longer eager to see whateverâs on your screen, and probably no longer even breathing. I know Iâm not. Iâm too focused on the feel of your hips beneath my hands. I have to physically stop myself from squeezing your flesh.
I guess thereâs no point in lying anymoreâI find you ridiculously attractive. Always have. The second you walked into my office for an interview, I knew if I hired you, Iâd be fucked. So I wasnât going to. I entertained the interviewer for the sake of staring at a pretty face a little longer. But then you brought up the PR stuff and it all made so much sense and I realized⊠I was really fucked. So I went against my urges and hired you, forcing myself to delete any previous notions I had.
But now? Now those lines I drew for myself are blurring. Fading right before my eyes.
âI shouldâŠâ you start, words trailing from the intense burning gaze Iâm most likely sending your way.
âNo⊠No, you shouldnât.â I can only assume you were going to say you should get up, but I canât let that happen. Not now. Not when Iâve finally got you in my arms.
âHarryâŠâ The way you breathe my name sends a shiver down my spine.
âDonât,â I warn, my grip on your hips growing tighter, keeping you in place. âYouâre not going anywhere now.â Wide eyes stare back down at me, hesitant and confused. But my eyes canât help but shamelessly roam your body, perched on top of mine like it was made to be. Your chest rises and falls quickly with your nervous breaths, right in front of my face. I feel like Iâm hypnotized. âYou look good like this,â the words fall from my tongue without a second thought.
âHarryââ you try again, but I cut you off.
âDonât⊠Donât talk.â I grip you tighter, pulling you down slowly until youâre fully resting your weight against me. I push down the groan that threatens to spill. âJust let me look at youâŠâ
âWhat are you doing?â
I ignore your question, letting my hands travel from your hips to the tops of your thighs, smoothing over the material of your skirt. This damn pencil skirt. The barely audible sound of your breath hitching in your throat sends a thrill through my bloodstream. âIs this okay?â I peer up at you through my eyelashes, my hands not stopping their actions of smoothing up and down your addictive thighs.
Your eyes connect with mine. Hesitancy, shock andâŠlust. Iâve got you right where I want you.
And when you nod, slowly and easily unnoticeable, I nearly snap right then and then.
The groan thatâs been fighting its way up my throat is finally let free and I pull you flush against me. Your chest hits mine in a rushed movement, and your hands land on my shoulders to stabilize yourself. Youâre so close. So close to me. I can smell the notes of your perfume, the scent of your shampoo, and Iâm hooked. Releasing one hand from your hip, I grab your chin and angle your head down toward mine. Our noses nearly brush, thatâs how close we are.
âThis is a mistake,â I whisper, but you can hear each syllable perfectly, nodding in agreement. âYou could be fired.â You nod again but donât make any move to leave. âI could lose my businessâŠâ
âBut?â you clue in, breath hitting my skin.
âBut at least itâll be worth it.â
And just like that, my lips are on yours. Groaning into the kiss like a man starved, my grip on you tightens to a bruising degree, pulling you impossibly closer. My tongue doesnât waste any time in demanding entrance, tracing the seam of your lips and forcing its way in when you gasp. Hands. So many hands. Yours planted on my shoulders, slowly smoothing up to hold the sides of my neck. One of mine on your hips, dancing over your frame to press into your lower back and bring you closer, the other tangling in your hair to angle you just right. I canât get enough. Iâm not sure if itâll ever be enough. Hissing out when your legs spread further, bunching your skirt to the top of your thighs, as your center presses against mine.
I pull back from the kiss, just barely, letting my lips brush over yours as I speak. âYou know,â I strain the words, my voice heavy with lust, âI could think of a few better things we could do to pass the time, other than Truth or Dare.â
I feel your thighs tighten around my hips from my words, and it only serves to heighten my need for you. I drop my hands to your thighs away, feeling the bare skin under my fingertips as one of my hands travels higher and higher, disappearing under the tight material. âDo you want to pass the time with me?â
When my eyes and brain register your small nod, a smirk spreads on my face, giving me the green light to continue. Two hands. One gripping the top of your thigh and the other grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a searing kiss.
âGood girl,â I mumble against your mouth.
I hold you just where I want you as my lips leave yours and travel down your jaw instead, licking and nipping the skin in my descent to your neck. Itâs all so addictive, so sweet. Itâs still not enough. But when I find that sweet spotâa patch of skin just below the lobe of your earâyou moan breathlessly, and I think this might be just right. Shivering beneath my touch, my hand thatâs under your skirt finds the waistband of your panties, feeling the delicate lace between the pads of my fingers.
âThese are coming home with me.â I give the band a small tug, letting it snap back against your skin before pulling my hand away all together. Sliding my hands up your body, I pull your dress shirt from the hem of your skirt and tug on it. âArms up for me, baby.â
Baby. Donât know where that came from. But with the way it has you complying without another word, I know I wonât stop saying it. I toss your shirt to the side, my eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. So much of it. But your chest has me in a daze, hidden behind scrap material you call a bra. I canât help the low moan that escapes me.
âYouâre so beautiful,â I breathe the words, reaching to grip and knead at the skin of your waist. I canât stop touching you. My hands are everywhere, feeling out your smooth, soft skin like itâs a drug. They eventually slip onto your back, tugging on the clasp that keeps you hidden from me. In one quick snap, the whole thing comes undone. The straps slide down your skin, revealing more and more of that perfect fucking skin. Absolutely perfect. This moment isnât even one I could dream up. You, sitting bare chested on my lap with that needy yet hesitant look in your eyes. No, not even my dreams could be this good.
Leaving your waist, my hands cup your breasts, feeling their weight and fullness in my hands. My mouth is watering. My thumb runs over one of your nipples, watching it pebble harden under my gaze and touch. Iâve never seen anything so hypnotic. Eyes flicking up to latch onto yours, I watch for your reaction as I pinch the sensitive bud, teasing a shaky breath from you.
âYou like that, donât you?â My voice is low and husky as I continue to roll your nipple between my fingertips, forcing your back to arch. It puts your tits right in my face. Iâm physically unable to stop myself from leaning forward and taking your other nipple between my lips. I moan at the taste of you, the sweetest fucking thing Iâve ever had gracing my tongue. Or maybe the sweetest thing is the whines that leave your lips when I swirl my tongue around you, hollowing my cheeks with a harsh suck.
I canât stop. I literally canât stop. Switching back and forth, showing each of your breasts the same attention until youâre relentlessly squirming on top of me. You are intoxicating. Thatâs the only way to describe it. Iâm a lost man when it comes to you.
âSo fucking good,â my words reverberate against your skin as I donât let up on my attacks. Feeling your hands wind into the hair at the nape of my neck, you hold me close as I explore your body with my tongue.
A hand slides down your hips and thighs again, just to push right back up under your skirt. I yank the material up, forcing it to bunch at your waist, and leaving me with the perfect view of your lace panties. Sitting like this, with the crease of your hips over your thighs, dressed in barely anything; this is heaven. Iâm sure of it. My thumb traces the seam, dipping into the crevice between your legs. Growing bolder, my thumb ghosts over your clit through your panties.
âHarryâŠâ you whine, and itâs music to my ears.
âTell me what you need, baby, and Iâll give it to you. Whatever you need,â the words tumble out of my mouth with no thought behind them, too focused on watching my finger disappear between your legs.
âYouâŠâ you breathe the word, shakily, âI need you.â
Well, fuck me.
My thumb presses down on your clit, still over the thin layer separating us, and your hips buck involuntarily. âYeah? Is this what you need, baby? Need me to touch you?â You nod, helplessly, forcing friction from my unmoving thumb and your twitchy hips. âWords, baby. I need your words.â
âY-yes! YesâŠplease.â
They were right when they said that was the magic word.
Finally giving you what you want, my thumb starts a lazy circular rhythm over your sensitive bud. The most delicious cries leave your lips every time I purposely add a bit more pressure. I can feel the heat radiating off your core, like a magic spell dragging my thumb down the seam of you to press against the mess youâve made. The growing dampness I can feel through the fabric has my hips bucking up toward you. Your wetness seeps through your panties, making a mess on your inner thighs, andâdamnâis it a sight to see. I cup you through the material, giving you something to find friction on while pressing against your clothed entrance with the tips of my fingers.
âYouâre so wet,â I whisper, amazed, âso wet for me.â
You nod in response, unable to do much else than moan as you find your own pleasure against the skin of my hand. Well, that just wonât do.
I tug your panties to the side, exposing your soaking wet pussy to me. A shuddering moan escapes me as a gasp gets ripped from you. My gaze is burning into the perfect, glistening pink skin, and I think you can feel it too, grinding against the air. Staring up at you, your eyes are half-shut and glazed over, holding yourself stable with a firm grip on my shoulders. But everything in you trembles when I run a single finger through your folds, feeling how deliciously wet you are against my rough skin. Your eyes pinch shut, your hands gripping me like a vice, as a whimper tumbles out of you.
I trace your slit, dragging your mess up and down your core and lightly brushing against your clit. I push at your shoulders lightly, forcing you to lean back and give me a clearer view. Watching my fingers pull your lips apart and your entrance clench around nothing. Holy fuck.
The next time my fingers trace down you, I slip my middle finger inside. Your walls clamp down around the intruder, gripping my finger snugly.
âGod, youâre tight,â I rasp, slowly pulling my finger out just to press it right back in. Youâre a moaning mess above me, but Iâm too focused on watching my finger disappear into you to even pay attention.
I drag my single finger out just to press back in with two. Your hips writhe against the feeling, but I donât speed up. Keeping my tantalizingly slow pace of pushing in and pulling out.
âHarry, pleaseâŠâ you gasp out the words, forcing my attention to your face. That fucking face. Lips red and bruised, eyebrows scrunched together and jaw slack. Youâre a sight for sore eyes.
âPlease, what, baby?â I have to force the words to come out without a groan when your pussy clamps down on my fingers again.
You whine at my insistence. âPlease⊠Harder. Faster.â
âYeah? Thatâs what you want?â You nod, but this time I donât beg for you to say it out loud. Iâm on the verge of snapping. âThen thatâs what youâll get.â
I wrap an arm around your waist to hold you in place as I finally let my instincts take over. My fingers gain speed, thrusting in and out of you just how you wanted. The sounds of my fingers slamming against your wetness draws a dark moan from the back of my throat. I canât pull my eyes away from your face. Watching as it screws up with pleasure, your moans filling the confined space.
âYou feel so good,â I moan, curling my fingers inside of you. âCanât wait to have you wrapped around my cock.â I press against the spongy skin inside of you, stimulating it and watching you fall apart in my arms. It makes you grip onto my hair instead of my shoulders, dragging my face closer to your body. I take that as an invitation to wrap my lips around your nipple again, lapping and sucking until I can feel you teetering on the edge. âThatâs it, baby. Let me make you come.â
I press my thumb against your clit and you cry out, arching your perfect tits into my face. I have half the mind to motorboat you. Instead, I change the angle. Slowly, I push off against the wall and guide you down to lay flat on your back. My fingers still slamming and twisting and fucking into you without remorse. With one hand to hold myself up by the side of your head, I continue to attack your breasts with my mouth, until you're covered in my marks. My lips travel down your sternum, licking a strip from the underside of your breasts to your belly button. I dip my tongue into the valley and you gasp, eyes snapping open to watch me. The cocky smirk that breaks out on my lips has your eyes threatening to roll back, but you fight it, I can tell. You want to see what Iâm going to do next.
Planting hot, wet kisses down your pelvis, I make way between your legs. Meeting my fingers and their brutal pace, I replace my thumb on your clit with my tongue. Rising onto your forearms, you get a front row seat.
My eyes nearly cross at the taste of you, lapping up the sweetness that covers your core. My fingers repeatedly hit your g-spot as my lips suck your clit into my mouth. My unrestrained moan only brings you more pleasure.
âHarry! Iâm gonnaâah!â you scream out as I feel your walls clench and tightly.
âYeah?â I rasp between flicks of my tongue. âYouâre gonna come on my fingers? Gonna come for me?â
You donât have a second to respond between your gasps, moans, and whines. Hips bucking up against my face, I roll my fingers into you and swirl my tongue around your clit. I can pinpoint the exact millisecond your orgasm rips through you.
Screaming out my name, your hands land in my hair and tug, body trembling against the floor. I flatten my tongue against you and let you ride out the waves against it, my fingers slowing their assault before pulling out all together. Tossing your thighs over my shoulders, I finally dive in for a real taste.
You cry from the overstimulation, feeling my tongue lapping up every last drop of your release. I eat you like youâre the last drops of water and Iâm stranded in the desert, moaning every time your taste hits my tongue. I canât stop. Not even to take a breath or give you a second to come down. My tongue plunges into you and Iâm certain I could die a happy man right here right now. With you squirming and begging for a second to catch up, and my hands squeezing your flesh anywhere I can get my hands on.
I donât even notice that Iâve been grinding my hips against the floor until a strained moan hits your core. I need to make you come again. I need it like I need oxygen. And that rubber band holding of restraint that was once holding me back has obliterated into dust.
I nuzzle my face feverishly against your core, rubbing my nose against your clit as my tongue loses sanity against your perfect pussy. My own hardness is so painful, straining against the material of my slacks. I canât help myself from reaching down to unzip my pants and palming myself over my boxers.
I lift your hips in the air to dive deeper, taking every piece of your resolve with me.
Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, tensing your frame as your hips grind against my awaiting face. I lap up your juices, my mind failing me at the intensity of it all.
I need more.
Finally getting a breath, I pull my face from between your legs, my lips and chin glistening from you. I donât plan on ever wiping it off. Your legs flop back onto the floor, like a ragdoll.
âGod, youâre perfect,â I speak mindlessly as I sit back on my knees, reaching for the buttons of my shirt. Iâm burning up. You lay on your back panting, eyes dazedly watching me. âYou okay?â I check.
You nod, a slow, lazy smile growing on your face. Youâre completely spent and Iâve barely even begun.
âGoodâŠâ I toss my shirt to the side, leaving me bare chested in front of you. I donât miss the way your eyes trail down my skin, burning a map on your journey. I lean over you, my face hovering over yours just inches away. Close enough for you to feel my breath hit your face when I say, âBecause Iâm about to bury my cock so deep in your perfect, little pussy.â
One of my fingers sliding through your folds emphasizes my words, making you gasp. I grab your hips and lift them off the ground, making our centers connect. Rubbing my boxer-clad bulge against you, you mewl. âYou have no idea how badly I need to be inside of you right now,â I grunt, snapping my hips against yours. âDo you want that, baby? You want me deep inside of you?â You nod, but this time I demand words. I need to hear you say it. âSay it.â
âI want it,â you gasp. âI want it! Please!â
My hips snap again. âWhat do you want, baby? Tell me.â
âI want you⊠Deep inside of me,â the words finally break free from your lips, just as a groan leaves mine.
Iâm immediately fumbling with my pants, yanking them down my legs and kicking them off not so sexily. You donât seem to notice though, if anything youâre the opposite of shuddered by my fumbling. You just squirm and writhe, begging for my attention again. Fuck. My boxers are the next to go, joining the heap of clothes weâve created in the corner of this small space. But when you go to sit up and peel your skirt off your body, I reach out and stop you. Your eyes look up at me, confused.
âThatâs staying on,â I murmur, eyes trained on the bunched material covering the tops of your hips and your waist.
Those fucking pencil skirts.
You comply, laying back down and finally letting your eyes trail over me. From the top of my hair, to the swell of my thighs straining to keep me upright. Though your attention does seem to focus more on my throbbing cock that stands at attention for you.
I grab your legs and wrap them around my waist, forcing your hips to raise and meet mine. Our moans harmonize when my length nestles between your folds. Iâm unable to stop my rocking hips. Your own hips meet my lazy strides, causing a ripple of pleasure to shockwave through me.
I pull back slightly and grab the base of my cock, stroking myself a few times as I bring my tip against your folds. Iâm leaking precum against you, my jaw slack as I run myself through your drenched core.
âHarry, please,â you beg, your voice needy and desperate.
I donât tear my eyes away from your center. âPlease what, baby?â I slap the head of my cock against your clit, watching you jump and squirm in surprise.
âPlease⊠Fuck me.â
âYeah?â I drag myself to your entrance, just barely pressing in but already feeling your warmth envelop me. It takes all my strength to hold back. âYou want me to fuck this tight, little cunt?â
I push just my tip inside, gnawing down on my bottom lip to keep my composure, but youâre not so slick. âY-yes! Yes! Please!â
Your walls are so tight around me, I could finish right now. Squeezing me and begging for more. I donât have the self control to tease you anymore. Not when your body so clearly needs thisâneeds me.
I donât waste anymore time, thrusting inside of you and filling you completely in one swift motion. One strangled gasp from you and a guttural moan from me. Nails biting into my shoulders as I stretch you open, unwarranted sounds spilling from me as your pussy flutters around me.
My head falls back in pleasure. âFuck,â I sigh. âYou feel so good.â
I adjust my grip, holding your thighs wrapped around me as I slowly pull back out. You whimper, but itâs cut off with a moan when I slam my hips back against yours. I donât start slow, thereâs no point. Not when my body is screaming at me to just take you. Claim you. With a vice grip on you, I continue my relentless pace, ramming my length into you. Your moans are unrestrained now, bouncing off the steel walls and mixing with the sounds of our skin slapping together.
âSo tight,â I grunt, my teeth clenched. âSo good.â
My hands are frenzied. Smoothing over your skin and gripping anywhere I can get a handle on. I steady my hips as I latch onto yours, using the leverage to move your hips for you. I drag you on and off my cock, watching it disappear into your wet hold. Using you like a toy for my pleasure, I pick up the pace and force your hips to slam against mine. The small rolls you do on your own have me feeling mental. Nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing will ever feel like this again.
And itâs taken to the next level when you use your abdomen to pull yourself up, sending me back onto my calves. Your hands grip my shoulders as you settle into a perch on my lap, grinding your hips against mine. Taking control. Dammit, youâre sexy.
âYeah?â I pant. âTaking whatâs yours, huh? Using me to get off?â
You donât respond with words, but you do let your lips do the talking. Bending down, your lips attach to mine in a sloppy kiss. Itâs hard when pants and moans are constantly spilling, but I swallow every sound you make. Your hands slip to my chest and push me backwards, landing me flat on my back and mirroring your previous position. My length falls out of you from the change of angle, but youâre quick to fix your mistake.
Wrapping your hand around my cock, it twitches from the contact. As you move to hover over my lap again, you stroke me lazily, and my hands grab your hips. When I feel you dragging me through your dripping folds, my head falls back and my eyes roll. Not giving me a chance to breathe before you sink down onto me again.
You stable yourself with both hands on my chest, burning my skin with your dangerous touch. Hips sliding and grinding against mine, youâre much softer with your movements. But, dammit, if it doesnât have me losing my mind just the same. I reach behind you, grabbing a handful of that perfect ass Iâve shamelessly stared at far too many times. It feels so much better to have it in my hands. So much so, my other hand has to join it. Groping both of your cheeks, I guide your movements over me, setting a pace that fulfills both of our needs.
When your hips rise and fall over me, I hiss and squeeze your plump skin tighter. So you do it again. And again. And again, until Iâm not controlling the pathetic sounds that leave my mouth. You bounce and grind with a practiced ease, taking the pleasure you need from me.
âYou like bouncing on my cock, baby?â A sly smile grows on your lips and you speed up. âDamn right you do.â I smack your ass.
To myâvery pleasantâsurprise, it rips a harsh moan from your lips. Noted. Sitting up straighter, you bounce on me without caring about the burn Iâm sure youâre feeling in your thighs. So I slap your ass again. It has your movements faltering.
âDoes my baby like to be spanked, huh?â You nod breathlessly as I continue to smack and palm your ass. It fits so nicely in my hands, I canât resist. But the pleasure youâre finding from it is slowing you down, losing your rhythm.
So I take control again.
Planting my feet on the floor, I push up until my knees are pointed in the air. Grabbing onto your hips, I still your movements and hold you right where I need you. Then I go to town.
I thrust up into you with a brutal force, wrenching a scream from deep in your soul. Your top half falls forward, nearly collapsing on top of me. Grunts and moans leave my lips without permission as you barely hold yourself together. This new angle is deep and rough, hitting all the right places inside of you and making you clamp down onto me with a vice grip.
âYeah, baby, just like that,â I groan. âYouâre taking my cock so well. Fucking perfect⊠So fucking tight,â I grit the words out. And when your hips start to grind against my thrusts, I stare down at the edge of my pleasure. âShit! Youâre so hotâŠâ
Faces mere inches apart, we swap oxygen between our labored pants and needy moans. I grab the back of your neck and pull your lips to meet mine. A heated kiss, moving hungrily against one another, tasting and devouring each other as we move together. I grip your hip tighter with my hand, snapping my hips up to meet yours. Your movements grow frantic, more wild, as you chase your pleasure down. I can feel your body tensing in my hold, feel you fluttering and squeezing around me, knowing youâre getting closer.
âThatâs itâŠâ I encourage, nuzzling my face in your neck and letting my hand fall back to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. âCome for me, baby. Come all over my cock.â
I grind my hips up into yours, repeatedly hitting that spot that has you crying out my name over and over again. Your body starts to shake, breathing turning erratic.
âOh God, oh Godâdonât stop!â you whine and pant and make me nearly lose my mind.
I grunt with a particular deep thrust. âIâm not gonna stop, baby.â
Whines and whimpers are your only form of communication at this point, a silent plea. Your body tenses, coils up so tight it might just send me over the edge too. And when a long, low moan falls from your lips, your body stills as you peak. I hold you tight, feeling your body tremble in my arms. Your pussy clenches so hard around me, threatening to push me out all together. I donât let up on my thrusts, seeing the bright white light of pleasure coming for me. Your whines or sensitivity only spur me on.
âFuck, yes, baby⊠So good. Come all over me. Youâre perfect. So fucking good and tight. Gonna make me come so hard in that perfect cunt of yours,â the thoughtless mumbles pour out of my mouth.
âHarry, pleaseâŠâ I know that youâre begging for my release, feeling me slide in and out of your core.
âAlmost there, baby, justâfuck!â I gasp when your walls clench around me again. âGod, do that again.â
So you do. You do it over and over until my hips grow sloppy and my uneven breaths threaten to make me pass out. Iâm gritting my teeth, gripping your hips, and desperately reaching for the climax that I know will ruin anyone else for me.
âFuck! Iâm gonna come! Iâm gonna fill you up, baby!â I scream out the words, hips snapping uncoordinatedly up into yours. âShit! Fuck! Yes!â
With one sensitive roll of your hips, itâs game over for me.
I gasp and choke out a moan as my hips come to an abrupt halt. My jaw hangs like itâs detached from my body all together, panting into the open air. Feeling myself spilling into you, you whimper in encouragement. And then we both go limp.
My hands fall from your hips and down to my sides and you essentially collapse onto my chest. Rising with every heavy inhale I take, I welcome your weight on me, bringing me back down to earth.
Back down to this broken elevator.
Shit, I almost forgot the situation we were in.
I reach up and run a hand through your sweat lined hair, basking in the stillness of this moment. You hum against me, the sound rattling the blood in my veins, and pushing me to continue.
This right here is peace.
âFire Department! Weâre gonna work on getting you guys out of there!â
Scratch that. This is hell.
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Death Has No Right To You (arkham knight!jason todd x reader)

Summary: You're severely injured, but he's not letting you go. Even if you're not his to lose anymore. (a/n: angstcomfort? not even death can try to drag you away from him. tw: mentions of blood/near death)
Jason has not felt such fear since his time in the warehouse, where the very thought of metal scraping concrete conjures phantom stings in his scars, and a gutting-drop in his heart. After him- after everything he's been through, he was close to believing nothing could ever be worse than the past he buried deep down, which he stifled with hatred-filled revenge.
Shaking fingers cradling your limp head, he can't believe he was ever foolish enough to think life had enough of him to let its dreaded claws loose. He had thought he was done with attachment to his past, to his mantle, to Bruce, to you.
"Please, don't take her away from me." He pleads to no one, because no one ever listens to him when he begs. Not when he was caged in that warehouse, not when he pleaded to be found, not when he pleaded to die.
He knows the scent of death like the back of his hand, coated on his hands when he kills, coated in the haunted look that stares back at him in the mirror. You- you're covered in the scent of it.
You're barely holding on, your grip on his neck falling looser only for him to snap at you to wake up whenever your eyelids shut, forcing you out of your stupor. Stay, stay, stay- his voice commands you.
When he reaches the base, he's barking orders and there's a flurry of movement as his militia move aside for him, all eyes on the limp body in his arms. "Get a fucking doctor- or I will make sure everyone in this room pays." His modulator renders his tone cold, but he can hear his desperation echoed back to him. Thankfully, no one notices and someone finally listens and makes a move.
He places you down on a flat surface, heart dropping when he can finally see how much blood you've lost under the fluorescent light. He grips your hand that reaches out for comfort. "You're going to make it." He mutters to himself, because he simply refuses anything other than your survival. "Because you're not someone who gives up. You're a fighter, you can fight this. I won't let you go under, you understand?"
You wince and heave with every breath, but there's confusion etched into your expression when you listen to his words. You try to find familiarity through his altered voice, something of memory to his armour, but you find none.
"Was I someone- were you someone to me?" You finally dared to ask.
There is no sound from his modulator, no flicker in those illuminating eyes, but somehow, you can sense the tension in his shoulders, the way his breath stops at your question.
"No." He answers. Not anymore.
The silence stretches, and footsteps are nearing.
"Then." You struggle through your next words, vision blurred till he leans in. "If I don't make it," You notice his fingers tighten around yours. "Will you bury me near Jason Todd's grave?"
The Arkham Knight is a powerful figure, with connections and a motive no one understands. Yet, if he was willing to put all this effort to save you, maybe he would listen to your final request.
"I promised him." Tears filled your eyes. "I'd always be by his side. I failed to before- Promise me, that you'll let me."
Jason stares at you, and he fights back the urge to scream. Don't you know, that by finding your Jason, you'll be leaving him? He had thought that whoever he became the day he escaped Joker's grasp couldn't possibly be something you could love, so he had left you alone. Or at least, he had convinced himself that it was the right decision. Now, even on your deathbed, your last words are of him, for him. Wrongs after wrongs after wrongs, it seems to be all he's capable of. But not this time.
He's not letting you go.
"I promise."
When you wake, you feel a strong hand covering yours. Your head pounds, and you try to recall what happened. A gunfight, a crossfire, a stranger, a promise-
The Arkham Knight. He saved you, didn't he?
You turn your head to see who was sitting beside the bed, expecting a robotic suit and glowing eyes, only to meet pale blue. Your heart recognises the colour before your mind does, seizing uncontrollably as if possessed.
"Am I dead?" You ask, laughing humourlessly. "Is that why you're here, Jay?"
He gives you a sad smile. Your Jason smiles at you. It's solemn and heartbreakingly haunting, unlike anything you've dreamt of since his death.
His hand moves to rest over your pulse, which beats over his calloused thumb. Life. Then, you're.. alive? You notice then, how he's not really the Jason you remember. There's a deep scar engraved into the skin tissue of his cheek, a crookedness to his nose from a punch gone wrong, and how his eyes hold secrets you can't uncover.
He's not your Jason, but he still looks at you the same way.
"I told you I'd keep my promise." He finally answers. "And now it's your turn to keep yours."
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#arkham knight#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight x you#dc x reader#batfam x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd angst#jason todd fic#ak jason todd#ak jason
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âŻâđđđđđđđ đđđđ đ .á â đđđđđđ đđđđđ
đđđđđđđ: Nanami betrayed you. Toji blackmailed you. Now youâre done playing nice. Youâre not the girl who falls apart anymoreâyouâre the one pulling the strings. And if getting even means letting Toji ruin you? Then so be it. Youâre not here to be saved. Youâre here to win.
đđđđđđđđ: Blackmail, professor/student dynamic, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubcon, rough sex, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, toxic relationship themes, revenge, infidelity mention, Megumi humiliation, emotional fallout. MINORS DNI.
đđ: đ,đđđ
Itâs been three days.
Three long, aching, breathless days since you walked into Toji Fushiguroâs office thinking you could winâthinking that if you just stood your ground, said the right words, made him see reason, it would be enough to save Nanami. Enough to save yourself.
You thought you could hold your own.
That heâd listen.
That somehow, heâd care.
You shouldâve known better.
Because the second that door shut behind you, it all slipped away.
Toji didnât even look up at first. He was sitting at his desk like heâd been waiting there all morning, legs spread, coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, collar open. He glanced at you from under thick lashes and smirked.
âThis is blackmail.â
You stood in front of his desk with your arms crossed and your chest burning, trying not to let the tremble in your hands show.
His smile widened, lazy and amused. âIs it?â
âYou canât just manipulate people like this. You canât hold this over our heads.â
Toji leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered. âI think youâll find I can do whatever the fuck I want.â
âWeâre not doing anything else,â you snapped. âNothing. Itâs over. Thereâs no story here. You donât have a case. It was a mistake. We wonât be together again. On campus, off campusâever.â
He chuckled, low in his throat. âGod, youâre adorable when youâre righteous.â
You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. âIâm serious. If someoneâs going to take the blame, let it be me. Just leave Nanami the hell alone.â
âWhy would I do that?â he said, cocking his head.
Your heart kicked, but you didnât back down. âIt was my fault too.â
âNo,â Toji said, dragging the word out, savoring it. âYou were just convenient. Cute, sure. But not the first.â
The blood drained from your face. âWhat?â
âYouâre the latest,â he said casually, like he was listing the weather. âNot the first.â
You stared at him. âYouâre lying.â
âAm I?â His smile stretched wider. âYou really thought you were the first student Nanamiâs ever fucked?â
Your stomach turned.
âHe didnât even know who I was,â you argued, voice rising. âWe met through that site. It wasnât⊠it wasnât planned.â
Toji raised a brow, then leaned forward slowly, folding his arms over the edge of the desk. âThatâs cute. But you know whatâs funny about that?â
âProfessors get the student lists before the semester starts. All of them. Names. Majors. Contact info. Photos. You think Nanami didnât know who you were when he saw your profile?â
He didnât wait for you to answer.
âYouâre not some hidden gem,â he says. âYou were on his desk months before he ever sent you that first message.â
âNo,â you whispered. âThatâs not true.â
Toji shrugged. âMaybe. Maybe not. But it wouldnât be the first time.â
You blinked.
âWhat?â
A cruel glint flickered in his eyes.
âItâs his thing. Every semesterâhe picks someone. Some sweet little thing with straight Aâs and something to lose. And then he waits. Times it right. Makes it look like fate. Makes you think youâre the one who started it. And when it happens, when youâre all wrapped up in it? He pretends to pull away. Pretends heâs ashamed. But really?â
He smirked.
âHeâs watching you fall apart for him. Watching you crawl back. Every time he disappears, every time he tells you itâs wrongâhe knows exactly what heâs doing.â
Your chest felt too tight to breathe.
âHe gets off on it,â Toji said softly. âWatching you risk your future for his cock. Watching you beg. Watching you think itâs love when really, he just likes watching you squirm.â
You shook your head. âNo. Thatâs notâheâhe doesnâtâŠâ
âHe doesnât love you,â Toji finished for you, leaning back again. âHe loves what youâll do to feel like he might.â
The words sat heavy between you.
He sipped his coffee like he hadnât just cracked your entire world open.
And you stood there. Frozen. Because some part of you, even as you denied it, even as you fought it, was already starting to believe him.
Toji exhaled slowly, shaking his head like he was genuinely impressed. âHe was careful. Iâll give him that. Never brought it onto campus. Always met them off-site. Never got caught.â
Then, a grin. âUntil you.â
Your throat burned.
âYouâre the one he fucked in his office,â he said, gesturing toward the walls around you. âYouâre the one who made him forget to be careful. Youâre the mistake.â
You looked down. Your hands were shaking again.
Toji tilted his head. âAnd now I get to use that. Or maybe I just let the old bastard hang himself with guilt. Watch his perfect career crumble while I sip my whiskey.â
He didnât look angry.
He looked satisfied.
Like heâd already won.
Like he wasnât threatening youâjust explaining how this would go.
You stood there, staring at the floor, breath shallow in your lungs.
You blink.
The memory slips away, but not the feeling.
You can still hear his voice. Still see the smirk on his lips. You can still feel the way the floor dropped out beneath you when he said you werenât the first. That Nanami had known. That maybe it was never real.
And now, three days later, the ache hasnât dulled. But itâs changed. Hardened. Youâre not shaking anymore. Youâre not crying. Youâre not sitting in your bed with your phone in your hand waiting for a message that isnât coming.
Youâre getting dressed.
Not soft. Not sweet.
You wear black. Something tight. Something that hugs your hips and bares your skin and makes you look like someone you donât recognize anymore. You smear eyeliner over your lashes. You wear gloss that shines like a weapon.
You grab your bag.
And you walk to the admin building like your heart isnât brokenâlike itâs been replaced by something sharp and dangerous and willing to bite back.
Because if this is the game?
You wonât be a piece.
Youâll be the fucking player.
Even if it means using the devil to destroy the man who broke you.
âââ
The admin building is quiet. Too quiet.
Itâs the kind of stillness that makes you feel like youâre being watched, like the walls themselves know what youâre about to do. But your steps donât falter. Your heels click across the floor, steady, sharp. You donât hesitate when you reach the office door with his name printed in clean black lettering.
Vice Chancellor Fushiguro.
You knock once. Firm. Not out of politenessâbut so he knows youâre coming.
The door swings open like heâd been waiting right behind it.
Of course he had.
He doesnât look surprised to see you. Not even a little. He leans against the doorframe with his sleeves rolled up and his black shirt half-unbuttoned like itâs just another Wednesday. Like he didnât spend the last few days tearing your entire sense of reality apart.
His eyes drag down the length of youâslow, heavy. Like heâs tasting the sight of you with every blink.
âFigured youâd come crawling back,â he says.
âIâm not crawling,â you bite.
You walk in without waiting for permission. Close the door behind you.
And this timeâyou lock it.
That makes him pause. His smile twists just slightly. Amused. Curious. Dangerous.
âWell well,â he murmurs. âKinky.â
He pushes off the doorframe and moves closer, slow like heâs circling prey. âWhat are you here for, sweetheart?â
You stand tall. Your heartâs racing, but your voice stays level.
âI want to make a deal.â
He laughsâshort and quiet, like he doesnât take you seriously yet. âWe already made one.â
âNo,â you say. âYou made a threat. Iâm giving you an offer.â
That stops him.
He tilts his head. Says nothing.
You take a breath and keep going.
âYou want leverage? Fine. You can have me. On your terms. However you want. But if you want me, then you donât touch Nanami. You bury the recording. You never say his name again.â
The silence stretches.
He looks at youâreally looks at youâlike heâs trying to figure out what game youâre playing.
And then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face.
You donât blink when he steps closer. When the space between you tightens. When the air turns heavy, electric, laced with something sharp and sour that sinks into your bloodstream.
Toji looks at you, really looks at you, and for a second he doesnât smile. He just studies youâlike heâs trying to decide whether youâre brave or stupid. Whether youâre bluffing or broken.
Then, finally, he speaks.
âAfter everything,â he murmurs, âyou still wanna save him?â
His voice is low. Not mocking. Not amused. Just curious. And thatâs worse.
You swallow. Donât answer.
Toji hums like he already knows. Like he can see right through you.
âYou think heâd do the same?â he asks, slower this time. âYou think Nanami would lock a door for you? Offer himself up just to keep your name clean?â
Your jaw tightens.
He leans in closer, his breath brushing your cheek. âDo you think heâd beg for you, sweetheart?â
You want to say yes.
You want to scream it.
But the words get stuck somewhere between your ribs.
Because you donât know anymore.
You donât know.
And Toji sees it. Sees the flicker of hesitation. The second of silence that splits your chest in half.
âThatâs what I thought,â he murmurs, stepping back, smile curling again. âYouâre smart. But youâre not special.â
Your fingers curl into fists.
But you donât run.
You donât crumble.
You lift your chin again, sharp and angry.
âThen take it,â you spit. âTake me. Isnât that what youâve wanted this whole time?â
His smile is slow, eyes gleaming like a blade catching light.
He doesnât answer. Not with words.
He steps forwardâcloser, closerâuntil thereâs barely an inch between you, until your back is nearly brushing the edge of his desk and you can smell the coffee and smoke on his breath. His hand lifts, slow and deliberate, and for a second, you think heâs going to touch you.
But he doesnât.
His fingers hover just beneath your chin, never making contact. His voice is low when it comes.
âYou say that like youâre offering me something I havenât already taken.â
Your breath catches.
He leans in slightly, mouth near your ear now, his lips just barely grazing the shell of it.
âEvery time you walk around this campus with your thighs clenched and your mouth shut and your eyes all glassy like youâve got something to confessââ His voice drops, dark and amused. ââthatâs me. Thatâs mine.â
His breath is hot. Heavy. You donât move.
âI donât need to take you, sweetheart,â he murmurs. âYou already gave yourself to me the second you locked that fucking door.â
His hand finally touches your jawâjust a graze of knucklesâand itâs humiliating how fast your body reacts. Heat blooms between your legs like it never left, like itâs been simmering under your skin since the first time he smiled at you with that knowing look. Your spine straightens, but your knees threaten to give out.
Toji watches the shift happen in real time.
âThatâs more like it,â he mutters. âGo ahead. Be honest.â
His thumb traces your lower lip.
âYou want to be ruined, donât you?â
You hate that you canât lie. Not here. Not now. Not when your body is already betraying you, your chest rising too fast, your mouth parting like youâre waiting for him to fill it.
You donât answer.
You donât need to.
Because he already knows.
And when his hand curls into the back of your neck and pulls your mouth to hisâwhen he finally kisses youâitâs not sweet. Itâs not comforting. Itâs not anything youâve ever had before.
Itâs ownership.
Itâs the start of something irreversible.
And you let it happen.
The kiss isnât kind.
Itâs roughâhot, consuming, all tongue and teeth and dominance. You gasp into it, and he swallows the sound whole, one hand fisted in your hair, the other already sliding down your waist like he owns the blueprint of your body. His grip is unrelenting, possessive, like heâs waited just long enough to enjoy the moment your spine gives in.
You barely register the low thunk of your bag hitting the floor before your back slams against the edge of his desk. He presses into you, chest to chest, cock already hard against your stomach through the fabric of his pants, and fuckâheâs big. You knew it. You felt it in the way he carried himself. And now thereâs no more guessing.
âOn the desk,â he growls, voice gravel under heat. âNow.â
You donât move fast enough.
He flips you himself.
Hands on your hips, spinning you, pushing you forward until your chest hits the cold wood and your elbows slide across its polished surface. You feel his hand on the small of your back, flat and firm, holding you down like heâs staking a claim. The other slips beneath your skirt.
âBet youâre already wet for me,â he mutters.
And when his fingers slide against the soaked lace between your legs, he groansâlow, guttural, dark.
âFuck. You are.â
You try to bite your lip, try to stay silent, but your body twitches under himâhips rocking back just barely, without thinking.
Thatâs all it takes.
Then his fingers are sliding through your folds, two of them sinking into you at once like he has something to prove.
He shoves your panties to the side. Doesnât pull them down, doesnât bother with anything careful or sweetâjust tugs enough to get access.
âGoddamn,â he hisses, pumping slow, deliberate. âYou like this, huh?â
You choke on your own moan, nails digging into the desk.
âLike being traded for a secret? Like being used to cover his ass?â
His fingers curl.
You cry out.
âSay it,â he snarls. âSay you like it.â
You bite it back.
He withdraws instantlyâhand gone, heat gone, and your body clenches around nothing.
âNoâplease,â you gasp before you can stop yourself.
Toji chuckles darkly behind you.
âThere she is.â
You hear the rustle of a belt. The clink of a zipper. The sound of fabric shifting.
And thenâ
The blunt, heavy press of his cock dragging through your soaked folds, head catching right where youâre aching the most.
âYou sure you wanna do this?â he asks, mocking.
You nod, frantic. âYes. Justâfuck, please.â
He doesnât wait.
One hard thrust.
He buries himself inside you to the hiltâso thick it knocks the breath from your lungs, the stretch brutal, delicious, overwhelming. You cry out, nails scraping across the desk as he grinds in deeper, holding your hips like you might try to run.
âYou feel that?â he breathes, lips close to your ear. âThatâs mine now.â
Then he starts to move.
Brutal pace. No mercy. Just the sound of skin on skin, the slap of his hips against your ass, the wet drag of your cunt gripping every inch of him like itâs never been this full before. Your moans turn helpless, high and ruined, echoing in the room like a confession.
His hand slides up your back, catches the collar of your shirt, and yanks. You hear the fabric tear, feel the scrape of buttons popping open. Cold air hits your skin.
âYou like this better,â he grits. âYou want it filthy?â
You nod. Desperate. Sweat slicking your back, tears threatening to spill from how deep he is, from the way he hits that spot over and over and overâ
His hand slides down.
Finds your clit.
Rubs tight, punishing circles while he slams into you.
âThatâs it,â he growls. âGive it to me.â
And you do.
Your orgasm rips through you like a wave of fireâviolent, blinding. You scream, body locking up, legs shaking as you clamp down around him and nearly collapse over the desk.
Toji groans, low and ragged. âFucking tight.â
You feel him lose rhythm. Hear the change in his breath.
âGonna fill you up,â he pants. âGonna make sure you remember who owns you now.â
You moan, still trembling, completely at his mercy.
âPleaseââ your voice is cracked, ruined. âPlease, cum inside meââ
âYes, Beg for it,â he hisses.
He curses hard.
One last thrust, deep and rough and finalâand then heâs spilling into you, hips jerking, cock pulsing deep as he empties himself with a guttural sound that shakes the bones in your spine.
The silence after is thick. Hot. Drenched in sweat and power. Youâre still bent over his desk, breathing hard, your hands pressed flat to the wood, your body slick with heat and shame and satisfaction.
Heâs still inside youâdeep, heavy, pulsing slow as he drags out the moment. And when he finally pulls out, you whimper at the loss. Not because you want him againâyetâbut because the emptiness makes you feel it all over again.
His cum spills down your thighs in slow, hot drips.
You shift, trying to stand, but your legs are too shaky.
He hums behind you, amused. âTold you Iâd make it worth your while.â
You donât answer.
Instead, you lower yourself slowly onto the edge of the desk, your bare thighs sticking to the cool wood. You can feel everythingâthe mess, the stretch, the ruin between your legsâand it should feel degrading.
But it doesnât.
It feels like a win.
Toji grabs a few tissues from the box on the desk.
You expect him to hand them to you.
He doesnât.
He kneels instead.
And fuckâyou almost flinch.
Because when his thumb drags through your folds, slow and lazy, smearing his cum back inside you, your whole body shudders. He watches your cunt flutter, watches your thighs tremble, watches the way your hips twitch helplessly beneath his hand.
âDonât waste it,â he murmurs.
You gasp when he presses two fingers into you again, spreading the mess deeper.
âThatâs mine now,â he adds, soft but sharp. âYou gave it to me.â
He wipes whatâs left with a lazy, practiced touch. But itâs not kindness. Itâs ownership.
You slide off the desk on shaking legs and grab your bag. You smooth your skirt. Fix your top. Pretend youâre in control again.
Even though your panties are soaked.
Even though his cum is still dripping out of you.
Even though heâs watching you like this was only the beginning.
You make it two steps toward the door before his voice stops you cold.
âYou think this was a one-time favor?â
You pause. Donât turn around.
âI keep my mouth shut,â he says, âyou keep showing up.â
You glance back at himâhair a mess, shirt undone, cock still out.
And you smile.
âWho says I wonât?â
Toji leans back in his chair like heâs already planning the next time. Like he knows youâll come crawling back. But this time, it wonât be because youâre scared. Itâll be because you want to.
You step into the hallway, raw and sore and glowing.
Because youâre done playing fair.
You donât feel ashamed.
You feel powerful.
And Nanami?
He has no idea whatâs coming.
You return to class like nothing happened.
Itâs been a full day since you locked that office door behind youâsince Tojiâs hands were on your skin, his voice in your ear, his cum dripping down your thighs.
A full day since you stopped pretending you didnât like the fire.
Youâve been quiet since. Not hiding.
Just waiting.
Letting it settle into your bones, letting the world shift just enough to feel like youâre the one in control now.
And when you walk into the lecture hall, itâs like youâve been reborn.
Same seat. Same desk. Same room.
But not the same girl.
Youâre not pretending to be soft anymore.
Thereâs a new weight behind your gaze. A new sharpness to your smile.
You feel it in the way people look at you nowâlike theyâre seeing you for the first time.
Youâre here to be seen.
And Megumi notices first.
Heâs already in your row, lounging back in the chair beside yours with his legs stretched out and that smug little smirk that says he still thinks he has the upper hand.
âYouâre back,â he says, like itâs funny.
You drop your bag on the desk and sit beside him, slow and graceful and just a little too pleased with yourself.
âMiss me?â you hum.
His smile grows. âDidnât think youâd have the nerve.â
âOh, sweetheart,â you say sweetly, turning to face him, your voice low and rich. âYou snitched on me. Thought you were pulling strings. But all you did was hand me your father on a silver platter.â
He blinks. The smile falters.
âWhat?â
You lean in, close enough that only he can hear. Your lips barely move. Your tone is dripping in syrup and acid.
âI should be thanking you,â you whisper. âBecause thanks to you⊠I got to fuck your dad.â
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Megumi goes still. His mouth partsâjust slightlyâbut no sound comes out.
And then, without another word, he stands up and leaves. Fast. Wide-eyed. Like heâs running from something that just snapped loose in his chest.
You donât even flinch.
You just sit back. Cross your legs. Flip open your notebook like nothing happened.
Like you didnât just shatter someone.
Like youâre already thinking about whatâs next.
You hear the door open behind you a moment later.
Footstepsâslow, even, familiar.
Nanami.
Your breath hitches, but you donât look up.
You feel it in your chest when he passesâlike a ghost brushing through you.
He doesnât speak. Doesnât acknowledge you. But you feel his gaze linger for a fraction too long as he moves past you.
He stands at the front of the room, briefcase already open, tie perfect, expression calm.
But when he glances at you again, itâs different.
He knows.
Itâs burning in the cool way you hold your pen, the way your lips curl just slightly at the corner like youâre keeping a secret.
Itâs shining in your skin.
And he doesnât know what, not exactlyâbut something in you has changed, and itâs loud.
And Nanami feels it.
He feels it in the pit of his stomach.
And for the first time since he told you it was overâhe wonders if maybe you finally believed him.
And moved the fuck on.
The lecture drags.
But somethingâs off.
His voice is steady, his notes are clean, and his explanations are as polished as always. Not because Nanami faltersâhe doesnât.
You are off.
And itâs throwing him.
He tells himself itâs nothing. That youâre just backâfinallyâand maybe he should be relieved.
He tries not to stare. He tries not to think about the way your lips shine under the fluorescents or how your legs are crossed just a little too tight.
Heâs unsettled.
Because the girl sitting in the front row, notebook open, pen between her fingers?
Thatâs not the girl he left standing in his office three days ago, shaking and tearful and betrayed.
This version of you is cold.
Beautiful.
Sharp-edged and glowing with something dangerous.
You smile at him onceâjust onceâand it wrecks him.
Because it doesnât reach your eyes.
And he realizes, too late, that heâs the only one in the room who knows how far youâve fallen.
Because heâs the one who dropped you.
Class ends.
You pack slowly. Deliberately. Your fingers move with a calm he doesnât believe. You can feel him watching you as the room empties outâhis stare heavy, desperate, burning a hole into the back of your head.
And when the last student leaves, and itâs just the two of you again?
He says your name.
Soft. Tentative. Not like a professor. Not like a lover.
You turn around slowly. Raise your brows, calm as anything.
âYes, Professor?â
He flinches at the title.
His jaw tightens. âCan we talk?â
You tilt your head. âAbout what?â
He doesnât answer right away.
And you almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
Because this is what he wanted, right?
Separation.
Silence.
Distance.
And now that youâve finally given it to him, he looks like heâs choking on it.
You step closer. Not enough to be inappropriate. Just enough to make him sweat.
âI thought we werenât supposed to talk,â you murmur. âYou made it very clear.â
His eyes drop to your mouth, then back up again. âI didnât meanââ
âYes,â you interrupt, sharp but not unkind. âYou did.â
You watch him struggle for a second longerâjaw clenched, eyes flicking across your face like heâs looking for a way back in.
And then, just before you turn to goâ
âOh,â you say, like it just occurred to you. âAnd you donât have to worry about Toji sending the recording.â
His breath catches.
âIâve got it under control.â
You give him a sweet smile.
One thatâs all lipstick and fire and secrets.
Then you walk out.
Calm. Collected. Glowing.
And Nanami?
He doesnât sit down. He just stares at the door like it might open again. Like heâs hoping youâll walk back in and take the weight off his chest.
But you wonât.
You already did your part.
And now itâs his turn to fall apart alone.
You donât go home after class.
Not now. Not since you stopped pretending to be the kind of girl who lets other people decide what sheâs worth.
You should. You could. But your body doesnât move that way anymore.
You donât text Toji.
You donât have to.
He doesnât say anything when he sees you. Just gives you a once-overâeyes dragging down your legs, your hips, the smug little smirk still clinging to your mouth.
Arms crossed, sleeves rolled to the elbow, a cigarette tucked behind his ear like the picture of careless sin.
By the time you reach the admin building, heâs already leaning against the doorframe of his office, like he knew youâd be back.
Then he steps aside.
Door open.
Invitation clear.
You walk in.
Donât speak.
Just wait.
Toji shuts the door behind you, slow and easy. Doesnât bother locking it this timeâlike he knows youâre not here to play shy anymore.
When he turns around, youâre already by the desk, fingers grazing the edge.
âYou were late today,â he says, voice low, teasing. âWas starting to think you were over me already.â
You glance back at him, expression flat. âI was busy ruining a manâs day.â
That earns you a grin. âLet me guessâNanami?â
You hum. âTold him I had the recording under control.â
Toji chuckles, steps closer. âYouâre really getting the hang of this whole revenge thing.â
You shrug. âFigured Iâd learn from the best.â
Thereâs a beat of silenceâheavy, pulsing.
Then he moves.
One hand comes up, cradles your jaw, thumb tracing your bottom lip like heâs remembering exactly how it felt when you moaned around him.
Crosses the room, slow and deliberate, until his chest brushes yours.
âYouâre dangerous now,â he murmurs, almost admiring. âYou taste it yet?â
You donât answer.
Just tilt your chin up. Just enough.
An invitation.
His mouth crashes into yours like a promiseâmessy, brutal, already desperate.
Itâs different this time.
Not because itâs softer. Not because heâs gentle.
But because you want it now.
Not to prove something.
Not to survive.
But because this is yours.
You want all of itâhis mouth, his cock, his voice in your ear saying filthy things that make you feel alive again.
Your thighs tighten around his hips. Your fingers tangle in his hair.
Let him peel your top off, kiss down your chest, bite at the soft underside of your breast.
You let him back you up against the desk again.
And Toji?
Toji gives it to you.
Every fucking second of it.
His mouth is already on your neck, hands up your shirt, hips between your thighs like heâs got no plans to stop. He groans into your skin, breathing heavy, like heâs barely holding himself back.
Youâre gasping before you can stop it, fingers tangling in his hair, legs tightening around his hips. You feel his belt press into your thigh, the thick line of his cock hard against you through the fabric of his pants.
âTojiââ you start, already breathless.
He kisses you hardâdeep and rough, like heâs staking a claim. You feel him reach for your skirt, about to drag it up, when suddenly he pulls back. Just a little. Just enough.
You blink at him, chest rising and falling fast. âWhat?â
âNot here,â he mutters, voice low and gravelly.
Your brows knit. âWhy not?â
He steps back, adjusts your top for you, then fixes his own shirt like itâs no big deal. But his jawâs tight. His eyes are darker now. âIâm not fucking you on a desk again.â
You just stare at him.
Then he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the door without another word.
When you step out into the cool air, you pause. Itâs still campus. Still public. And you glance around instinctively, nerves prickling at the back of your neck.
âTojiââ you tug at his arm, lowering your voice.
He stops walking. Turns to you slowly.
Then smirks. âBaby, relax.â
You blink.
His eyes gleam with something sharp, wicked. âYouâre gonna have to trust me.â
You swallow.
He leans in, brushing his mouth against your ear. âI promise itâll be worth it.â
You stare at him for a second longerâuntil he opens the passenger door of his car like itâs nothing. Like this isnât insane.
âGet in.â
You hesitate just a second. Then slide into the seat, heart hammering.
The ride starts quiet.
Not awkwardâjust heavy. Thick with everything you didnât get to finish back in that office. Tojiâs hand is steady on the wheel, rings glinting in the sunlight, jaw sharp in profile as he drives like heâs not in any rush. Like heâs trying to savor this part, too.
You shift in your seat, thighs pressed tight together, still aching with the want he didnât satisfy.
He glances over, one brow raised, smirking. âYou always this squirmy, or is it just me?â
You roll your eyes, but your face burns. âYou literally dragged me out midââ
âMid what?â he interrupts, voice low and smug. âMid whimper? Mid grind?â
You punch his arm lightly, but he just laughs, a quiet, throaty sound that settles low in your stomach.
Then, softerâmore realâhe says, âDidnât wanna rush it.â
Your chest tightens a little. âYeah?â
âYeah.â He looks over at you again, slower this time. âYou looked too pretty to fuck quick against a desk. Wanted to take my time. Make you cry a little.â
That shuts you up.
He smirks like he knows it. Like heâs proud of himself. Then he adds, âYou worried someone was gonna see you, back there.â
You glance out the window. ââŠMaybe.â
He scoffs, like itâs the dumbest thing heâs heard. âI own that fucking school.â
You blink. âWhat?â
Toji shrugs, casual as hell. âBoard loves me. Faculty canât touch me. You think someoneâs gonna open their mouth? Let âem try. Iâll make âem wish they didnât.â
You swallow. âYouâre insane.â
He grins. âOnly for you, sweetheart.â
Thereâs a beat of silence.
You cross your legs slowly. âSo⊠where are we going?â
He looks at you, eyes dark and amused. âHome.â
âYours?â
âUnless you wanna get wrecked in a parking lot.â
Your heart stutters. Your thighs squeeze tighter.
He chuckles, shaking his head. âGonna take my time. Wanna ruin you properly.â
And with that, he shifts gearsâand your breath catches.
He chuckles, shaking his head. âGonna take my time. Wanna ruin you properly.â
And with that, he shifts gearsâand your breath catches.
His hand stays on the wheel, knuckles tight, thumb tapping slowly against the leather. He doesnât look at you, not yet, but thereâs something about the way his jaw flexes that makes your stomach twist. That lazy, dangerous calm he wears like second skinâitâs thicker now. Louder. Itâs in the way he turns onto the main road like heâs not thinking about anything else but what heâs gonna do to you when you get there.
You sit back, legs crossed, pulse ticking under your skin. You try not to shift in your seat. Try not to let your thighs press together. But you can feel the tension building, slow and sticky, winding through the air between you.
Toji doesnât speak. Not at first. He just drivesâslow enough to tease, fast enough to make your heart race.
âYou always this quiet?â he finally asks, glancing at you sideways.
You shrug, voice soft. âYouâre the one who said you wanted to take your time.â
That earns you a crooked smile. âYeah. But not in silence.â
You hum, letting your head tilt slightly, lips curling. âWhat do you wanna talk about?â
He huffs a laugh. âNothing. Just like hearing your voice when youâre not moaning.â
You look away, trying not to smile. âYouâre impossible.â
âAnd youâre wet,â he says easily.
You shoot him a look, but heâs already grinning. One hand still steady on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift like heâs not in any rush to touch you again. Like heâs making you wait on purpose.
âCocky,â you murmur.
He glances over. âOnly when Iâm right.â
The silence stretches againâlonger this time. Thicker.
You can feel it creeping back in, curling between your legs, heating your cheeks. Itâs not the kind of quiet you fill with small talk. Itâs the kind that builds pressure. The kind that makes you squirm in your seat and pretend like youâre not imagining what his hands will feel like all over you the second you step inside his house.
And then finally, his voice cuts through it, lower now. Rougher.
âYou nervous?â
You pause, just long enough for him to notice. âNo.â
He doesnât call you out on the lie. Doesnât smirk, doesnât tease. Just nods onceâquiet, settled. But the way his hand tightens on the wheel says something else entirely.
âGood,â he says. ââCause Iâm not gonna stop this time.â
The rest of the drive blurs. Not because itâs fast, but because the air is thick with things unspoken. Your heartâs pounding. Your thighs ache. Every time he shifts gears, the movement sends another jolt of heat through you.
And then heâs pulling into a driveway.
Itâs not what you expected.
Not a flashy house. No giant gates or pretentious signs. Itâs clean. Neat. A quiet, modern two-story tucked behind tall hedges, windows dark. Private. The kind of place where secrets are safe.
He kills the engine, and the sudden silence makes your breath hitch.
âYou coming?â he asks, already opening his door.
You follow, legs a little shaky as your heels hit the concrete. The air is cooler now, sharp against your skin, but you barely notice it. Not with the way heâs watching you from the front step, keys dangling from his fingers, that same lazy confidence in every inch of his posture.
When he opens the door, he doesnât wait for you to walk in firstâhe just steps aside, lets you move past him, lets his hand brush low over your back like a warning.
Itâs warm inside.
Dim lights. Clean floors. A dark hallway stretching out ahead of you. You hear the door shut behind you with a quiet click, and then his voiceâlow, close to your ear.
âUpstairs,â he says, already moving past you. âSecond door on the left.â
You donât hesitate.
You walk.
And you feel him watching every step.
You reach the top of the stairs, your fingers trailing lightly along the wall like you need something to steady yourself. Each step feels heavier, hotter, like the airâs thickening with every breath.
Second door on the left.
You stop in front of it, hand hovering over the knob, pulse drumming at the base of your throat. And then you feel itâhim. Toji right behind you, not touching, but close enough that his presence drapes over your shoulders like heat.
He leans in, voice low. âOpen it.â
You do.
The room is⊠minimal. Clean lines, dark wood, soft lighting that throws long shadows across the floor. A massive bed in the centerâblack sheets, unmade. Like he hadnât expected company, but didnât mind the idea of it.
You step inside, heart climbing into your mouth.
Toji shuts the door behind you, and this time, he does lock it.
Then silence. Heavy. Almost too much.
Untilâ
âTake off your shoes.â
His voice is soft. Gentle. But it leaves no room for argument.
You kick them off slowly, feeling the shift in the atmosphere as your heels hit the floor with a dull thud.
âCome here.â
You donât walk.
You drift.
Like your body already knows the way to him.
And the second youâre close enoughâhe touches you. One hand on your waist, the other sliding up your spine, fingers dragging the heat of the night right through your clothes.
âYou sure about this?â he asks, voice gruff, almost strained. Like if you say no, he might actually stop.
But you look up at himâlips parted, breathing uneven, already undone.
âDonât you dare,â you whisper. âDonât stop.â
And Toji smiles like heâs been waiting his whole fucking life to hear you say that.
He pulls you in slowly, like he wants to savor itâyour skin, your breath, the way your fingers curl into his shirt like youâre already bracing for the fall. His lips brush yours onceâbarely thereâbefore he tilts his head and kisses you for real.
And fuckâitâs everything.
Hot and messy, all tongue and teeth and want. You gasp, and he swallows it. His hands are everywhere, greedy, slow, dragging up your back and into your hair, tugging until your head tips back and he can get to your throat.
âBeen thinking about this,â he mutters against your skin. âAll goddamn day.â
You arch into him, hands fumbling at the hem of his shirt, needing more, needing him, but he catches your wrists and holds them still.
âLet me,â he says, low and steady.
And then he peels you open like a secret.
Top off. Tossed somewhere across the room. His eyes darken when he sees youâno bra, no hesitation. Just you, standing there like youâve already given yourself over to him and youâre not taking it back.
âFucking beautiful,â he says, like it hurts.
He runs his hands down your sides, slow, thumbs grazing just under your ribs. You shiver.
âLay down.â
You do.
The sheets are cool, but your skin is already burning, and when Toji crawls over youâknee between your legs, hand cupping your jawâyour whole body arches like youâve been waiting for this exact moment since the first time he looked at you.
âStill nervous?â he asks, lips brushing your ear.
You nod. Barely.
And he smiles.
âGood.â
Then he kisses you againâdeeper, slower.
Like he plans to ruin you piece by piece.
His mouth moves lower, unhurried. Down your neck, across your collarbone, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. He palms your breast, thumbing over your nipple until it stiffens, then replaces his hand with his mouthâhot, wet, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
You writhe under him, fingers clawing at the sheets.
âTojiââ you breathe, and it sounds wrecked already.
âYeah, baby,â he murmurs, voice thick, lips dragging across your chest. âSay it again.â
âToji,â you whisper, softer this time, like itâs not just his nameâitâs permission.
And he takes it.
One hand slips between your thighs, pushing them open with practiced ease. He groans when he sees the soaked fabric sticking to your core.
âFuck. Youâre soaked for me already?â He doesnât wait for an answer. âThat for me, or were you just thinking about how I said I was gonna ruin you?â
You donât say anythingâbut your hips roll toward his hand without thinking.
Thatâs enough.
He hooks a finger into your panties, dragging them down slowly, deliberately, until theyâre off. Tossed aside. Gone.
And then he just looks at youâlike youâre art. Like youâre dangerous. Like heâs already addicted.
He spreads your legs with his hands, slow and steady, settling between them with a low, hungry groan. âGonna take my time with this,â he says again. âWanna learn how you fall apart.â
And then his mouth is on you.
Hot, slow, sinful.
And it starts all over again.
His tongue drags through your folds like heâs savoring itâevery slick, messy second. He groans against you, hands locking around your thighs to keep you open, to keep you exactly where he wants you. The sound alone makes your stomach flip, your back arch.
âTojiâfuckââ
You grab at the sheets, at his hair, at anything you can reach because the way heâs eating you out is obscene. Slow at first, lazy licks like heâs just warming upâbut then he starts to focus. Starts to learn you. Where you twitch, where you cry out, where your thighs try to snap shut because itâs too much.
And he doesnât stop.
He flattens his tongue, flicks it fast, then sucksâhardâright over your clit until you jerk up off the bed.
âOh my godââ
He grins into you. âThere she is.â
Youâre already shaking, breath ragged, heat coiling so deep in your belly it hurts. He doesnât need you to come yet. Heâs just playing. Just getting you used to the way he devours.
Then he adds a finger.
And another.
Curled just right.
It punches a moan straight out of your chest.
âFuckâTojiâpleaseââ
âYou close already?â he murmurs, lips brushing your clit. âYou gonna come just from this?â
You nodâdesperate, shameless. âYes. Yes, please.â
He chuckles against you. âGo ahead then. Wanna feel you come on my tongue.â
And you do.
Hard.
Loud.
Like your whole body gives out under the weight of him.
But he doesnât stop.
Your hips jerkâtoo sensitive, too rawâbut he holds you down, mouth still working you through it like heâs not satisfied yet. Like he wants more. Wants you twitching. Squirming. Whimpering under his tongue.
You whine, thighs trembling around his head. âTojiâpleaseâsâtoo muchââ
He lifts his head just enough to speak, lips shiny with you. âNah, baby. Not even close.â
And before you can catch your breath, heâs moving againâfingers still deep, curling up, stroking that spot that makes you wail. His mouth finds your clit again, sucks so hard you feel your spine try to escape your body.
Itâs overwhelming. Youâre drenched, ruined, a fucking mess and heâs still eating you like he hasnât had a proper meal in days.
âThatâs it,â he mutters, voice low and wrecked. âSo fuckinâ sweet for me.â
You try to grab his wrist, try to push him backâbut he doesnât budge. Just groans like the taste of you is enough to make him lose it. Like he needs this. Needs you.
And when your second orgasm crashes over youâlouder, hotter, blindingâyou scream his name like a prayer. Like a curse. Like itâs the only thing holding you to the earth.
He lets you ride it out this time. Slower. Gentler. Still inside you, still licking soft and slow while your body trembles beneath him.
Youâre not even sure when the tears started.
But he notices. He always does.
âToo much?â he whispers, leaning up, dragging his lips across your thigh.
You nod, dazed. âY-Yeah. Just⊠fuck.â
And he grins, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and says, âGood.â
And before you can even fully breathe, heâs crawling up the bedâslow, like heâs giving you a second to run. Like heâd enjoy it if you did. But you donât move. Canât. Youâre still trying to process the way his mouth felt on you, the way your bodyâs still shaking from how easily he pulled you apart.
His hands find your knees. Spreads them again. You gasp, sensitive, and he just hums low in his throat like thatâs exactly what he wants to hear.
âYouâre not done,â he murmurs, eyes dark. âNot even close.â
Then he leans downâone forearm beside your head, the other sliding up your thighâand kisses you. Deep. Messy. Like he wants you to taste yourself on his tongue. Like heâs already drunk on it. You moan into it, arms coming up around his neck, legs wrapping around his hips on instinct.
You can feel him now. Hard, hot, pressed right against where you need him. But he doesnât rush. Doesnât grind. Just teases. Keeps kissing you like heâs got nowhere else to be.
And fuckâyouâre already gone for him.
You arch into him, whimpering softly against his mouth, and thatâs when he finally presses downâjust enough for you to feel how hard he is through his sweats. Just enough to make you twitch under him.
âFeel that?â he mumbles against your lips. âBeen like that since you stepped in my office.â
You nod, dazed, breath catching in your throat as you try to rock your hips against him for more. But his hand shoots to your waist, holding you still.
âUh-uh,â he breathes, voice low and thick. âI said I was gonna take my time.â
He leans back, just far enough to look at you. Really look at you.
Hair a mess, lips kiss-swollen, skin flushed and glowing under his weight.
âLook at you,â he mutters, almost to himself. âYou donât even know what you do to me.â
His hands smooth down your sides, slow and reverent, like heâs grounding himself. Like if he doesnât touch you right nowâif he doesnât feel your skin, warm and soft under his palmsâhe might lose it completely.
âYouâve been driving me fucking insane,â he says, almost like itâs your fault. Like you knew what you were doing every time you looked at him like that in class, every time you bit your lip and played innocent.
You open your mouth to speak, but his thumb brushes over your bottom lip again, silencing you before a word can slip out.
âShh,â he says, gentle but firm. âJust let me look at you.â
And he does. Lets his gaze trail down your neck, your chest, the curve of your waist like heâs seeing all of you for the first time. Like heâs not just undressing youâheâs unwrapping something sacred.
âYouâre perfect,â he murmurs, more to himself than to you. âFuckinâ perfect.â
Then he leans in again, presses his lips to your jaw, your throat, the hollow of your collarboneâsoft, lingering kisses that make your whole body shiver.
âYou feel safe here?â he whispers, mouth brushing over your skin.
You nod, breathless. âYeah.â
âGood,â he says, and you feel the heat in itâthe promise. ââCause Iâm not letting you go tonight.â
Then he finally shifts. One hand slides under your thigh, the other steady at your waist, guiding your leg up around his hip as he settles between them. You suck in a breath, body already burning again, every nerve raw and humming. You feel himâbare, hard, pressed against your entranceâand your whole body aches for it.
But he still doesnât move.
Not yet.
He just stays there, forehead resting against yours, eyes locked on yours like heâs searching for something in your faceâsomething honest. Something real.
âYou sure?â he murmurs, voice low and steady, like itâs costing him to ask.
You nod, already breathless. âI want you.â
âYeah?â His eyes drop to your lips, then back up. âSay it.â
You swallow hard. âI want you, Toji. Please.â
And thatâs all he needs.
He pushes in slow. Thick. Deep. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks all the way in with one long, devastating stroke. He groans, head dropping to the curve of your neck, breath hot against your collarbone.
âFuck,â he breathes. âYou feel⊠fuck, you feel so good.â
You whimper beneath him, back arching as he starts to moveâslow, deep thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside you like heâs trying to memorize the shape of your body from the inside out.
Itâs not fast. Itâs not rough.
Itâs worship.
Like he meant itâwhen he said he was gonna take his time.
Your hands slide up his arms, his shoulders, his backâgrabbing at anything you can reach as the pressure builds all over again. His name slips from your lips in a broken whisper, and he lifts his head to kiss you hard, tongue sliding against yours like he needs to feel every part of you at once.
âYouâre mine,â he growls against your mouth, hips rocking into you slow and steady. âAll mine.â
You nod, dizzy. âYours.â
âSay it again.â
âYours,â you gasp. âFuckâToji, Iâm yours.â
And something in him snaps.
He picks up the paceâstill not harsh, but heavier now. Deeper. His hand finds yours and pins it above your head, fingers threaded tight as he fucks you slow and possessive, like he wants you to remember this forever.
You will.
You already know.
Every drag of his cock, every breathless sound he pulls from your throat, every graze of his teeth on your skinâheâs burning it into you.
Branding you.
And you let him.
You want to.
Because this time, itâs not about power or revenge or survival.
This time?
Itâs about giving in.
Itâs about the way his mouth finds your throat again, tongue dragging slow over your pulse like heâs tasting every beat of your heart. Itâs about the way your legs lock around his waist and stay there, shaking and tight, like you need him to stay inside you or youâll come undone completely.
âToji,â you whisperâbarely a sound, more breath than word.
His name doesnât even sound like a name anymore. It sounds like a need. Like a prayer.
He groans at the sound of it, hips stuttering just slightly, and thatâs when he presses his forehead to yours again, eyes dark and raw and open in a way youâve never seen.
âFuck, youâre everything,â he mutters, voice breaking on the edge of it. âYou feelâJesus, baby, you feel like fucking heaven.â
And it should feel dirty. Should feel like something youâre not supposed to wantâthis man, this situation, this entire tangled mess. But it doesnât. Not when he says it like that. Not when he looks at you like youâre something sacred.
You cling to him, gasping, shivering, blinking past tears you didnât know were building. You can feel it building again, hot and sharp, curling low in your belly like a storm about to break.
âIâm close,â you breathe, voice shaking. âTojiâpleaseââ
âI know,â he pants, hips grinding deeper, slower. âIâve got you.â
And he does.
His hand slides between you again, thumb finding your clit with practiced ease. He circles onceâtwiceâand thatâs all it takes.
You come apart with a cry, body convulsing, legs tightening around him as the wave hits. Itâs messy. Loud. Your hands scramble for purchase, fingernails dragging down his back as he fucks you through it, mouth on your jaw, your neck, your shoulderâanywhere he can reach.
âThatâs it,â he groans. âThatâs my girl.â
And when youâre still trembling, still trying to breathe, he lets goâfinally, fully.
You feel him pulse inside you, feel him spill deep, feel his whole body shudder as he buries himself to the hilt with a ragged, broken moan that sounds like itâs being ripped from his chest.
He stays there. For a second. Two.
Breathing hard. Holding you like heâs afraid you might disappear if he lets go.
And when he finally pulls back, he doesnât go far. Just enough to see your face.
Eyes soft. Lips swollen. Skin damp and glowing.
âStill good?â he asks, voice quiet.
You nod, dazed. âBetter than good.â
Toji smiles. Really smiles. And for the first time, itâs not cocky. Itâs not smug. Itâs just soft. Real.
âGood,â he murmurs. âThen donât move.â
And he leans down again.
Kisses you like youâre his to keep.
And for a secondâjust oneâyou let yourself believe it.
His breath is warm against your cheek, slower now, steadier. His hand doesnât leave your skin, just shifts slightly, from your thigh to your hip to the curve of your waist, like heâs mapping it all again now that the stormâs passed. Like he wants to memorize the softness that came after the ruin.
You blink slowly, lashes brushing his collarbone, and realize your legs are still tangled around his. That youâre still holding him. Still clinging.
And that he hasnât let go either.
âYou good?â he murmurs, voice hoarse and quiet, lips brushing your hair.
You nod. A little too fast.
His fingers lift, trace the edge of your jaw, and tilt your face just enough so he can see you. His thumb strokes under your eye, down to your cheek. âYou sure?â
You nod again. Then, softer, âYeah. Just⊠overwhelmed.â
A pause.
Then Toji sighsâdeep, from the chestâand rolls, pulling you with him until youâre draped over his body. One of his hands spreads across your back, the other tugs a blanket up over your shoulders. Itâs instinctive. Casual. Natural. Like heâs done this before. Like he wants to.
âGood overwhelmed or bad?â he asks.
You blink again. Your throat feels thick. âGood,â you whisper. âI think.â
He doesnât push. Just holds you closer.
Lets you breathe.
Lets you think.
Lets you exist here, on top of him, your heart still racing a little too fast for whatâs supposed to be the calm after. Lets your fingers curl into his chest like youâre scared of what it means that you donât want to move. That youâre not thinking about Nanami. That youâre not thinking about the mess. That youâre just⊠here.
With him.
And thenâto your own horrorâyou feel it.
That flutter in your chest.
Small.
Annoying.
Warm.
Toji hums, lazy, lips brushing your hairline. âWhatâs goinâ on in that head?â
You donât answer. You canât. Your mouthâs too dry. Your thoughts are too loud.
Because heâs warm. And solid. And still tracing circles into your back like itâs second nature. Like he wants you to fall asleep on top of him.
And something about that hits you like a fucking freight train.
Shit.
Shit.
You shift slightlyâjust enough to hide your face again. To press your nose into the space beneath his jaw. To ground yourself in his scent before your heart does something even stupider.
Toji doesnât question it. Doesnât tease.
He just wraps both arms around you.
Holds you like youâve got nowhere else to be.
And thatâs when it hits you hardest.
You donât want to leave.
Not yet.
His chest is warm against your cheek. Steady. Real. You curl in closer, one of your legs tangling with his, breath syncing up without even trying. His fingers move slowly up and down your spine, gentle like heâs trying to memorize every inch.
Neither of you says anything.
The silence isnât awkward.
Itâs full.
You donât know how long you stay like that. Long enough for your eyes to start closing. Long enough for his grip to tighten a littleâlike he feels it too.
And then, just when your mind starts to driftâwhen you think maybe, maybe this doesnât have to mean anythingâ
He whispers your name. Soft. Barely there.
Your heart skips.
You tilt your head up, blinking at him.
His eyes are already on you.
And then he says it. Quiet. Careful.
âDonât go back to him.â
You freeze.
Toji doesnât take it back. Doesnât clarify. He just stares at the ceiling for a second, like heâs working something out in real time. Like heâs already said too much but wonât pretend he didnât mean it.
And then, quietlyâgrufflyâhe says,
âI know youâre using me.â
Your stomach twists.
âHell, I was using you too.â
You blink. Stay still.
âTo fuck with Nanami,â he says. âThatâs what it was, at the start.â
You donât say anything.
âBut then you showed up,â he murmurs. âLocked that door. Looked at me like you werenât scared of what Iâd doâand suddenly it wasnât just about him anymore.â
Thereâs a pause.
âTo be honest, I donât know what the fuck this is,â he admits. âBut itâs not a game now. Not for me.â
You glance up at him, heart climbing a little too high in your throat.
He doesnât look at you. Just keeps tracing lazy circles along your hip with his thumb.
âI donât do soft,â he mutters. âI donât do feelings. But⊠I donât want to go back to whatever the hell I was doing before this.â
Another pause.
Then, finallyâ
âNanami had you in his game,â he says, voice low. âBut I donât want that with you.â
His fingers tighten a little on your side.
âI want something thatâs fucking real.â
â
@rjreins @jeankirschteinsimp @nanamiscsleeve @rissaaaaaa @mikrh-lizzie @tnaiis
#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#toji smut#jjk smut#smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#Nanami kento#Nanami#Nanami smut
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hello!! Can i request for a 14th member svt au (each member reactions if possible!) where the 14th member (u) got so much hate point she left the group and became a solo artist, she won her award and did a speech and then she saw each svtâs members reactions!
Title: Thirteen Cheers for Fourteen
Masterlist | Part 2
In a whirlwind of hate and heartbreak, Y/N, the lone female maknae of Seventeen, faces relentless backlash from fans, pushing her to leave the group and vanish abroad. After a year of silence, she returns to Korea, forging a solo path with a powerful comeback, while the thirteen boys grapple with her absence. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Heavy angst
The apartment was suffocatingly silent, save for the faint drip of a leaking faucet in the kitchen. Y/N sat on the cold hardwood floor, her back pressed against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were swollen, the skin around them raw from weeksâmaybe monthsâof crying. She couldnât tell anymore. Time had blurred into an endless haze of pain. A half-empty water bottle sat beside her, untouched for hours. She hadnât eaten today. Or yesterday. She didnât care.
The hate had been there since the beginning. Nine years ago, when Seventeen debuted with her as the only girl, the Korean fans had erupted. âSheâs a disgrace.â âA spoiled princess who bought her way in.â âSeventeen doesnât need her.â Sheâd been fourteen then, a wide-eyed maknae with dreams bigger than the world. Sheâd fought tooth and nail to prove herselfâbegged her father, PLEDISâs founder, to judge her fairly, trained until her body gave out, poured her soul into every performance. But none of it mattered. To them, she was nothing but a stain.
Now, at twenty-three, the hate had metastasized. Flower wreaths piled up outside HYBE, their ribbons screaming, âLeave Seventeen, Y/N. Youâre a curse.â Online, the threats were worseâboycotts, petitions, vile words she couldnât unsee. They called her names that cut deeper than knives, accused her of things that made her stomach churn. The company had forced her into a hiatus, a âbreakâ to âthink things over.â But all it did was leave her alone with her thoughtsâand they were merciless.
The boys had tried. God, theyâd tried. Seungcheol had held her when sheâd broken down after a concert, whispering, âYouâre enough, Y/N. Youâve always been enough.â Vernon had sat with her in silence, his presence a quiet anchor. Dino, her fellow maknae, had sobbed into her shoulder, begging, âDonât let them win, Y/N. Please.â But sheâd pushed them away. âIâm fine,â sheâd lied, her voice hollow. âI just need space.â Theyâd stopped coming after sheâd screamed at Minghao to leave her alone, her words a jagged sob: âStop pretending Iâm worth saving!â
She wasnât. Not anymore.
Her phone buzzed on the floor, its screen lighting up with a new message. She didnât look. It was probably Joshua again, or maybe Wonwooâsoft words she didnât deserve. Sheâd shut them all out, locked the door, turned off the lights. Her family had called too, her motherâs voice trembling through the line: âCome home, Y/N. Let us help you.â But sheâd hung up, muttering, âIâm okay,â before curling into herself and crying until her throat burned.
She wasnât okay. She was drowning.
The silence pressed in, heavy and unbearable. Her eyes drifted to a framed photo on the shelfâSeventeenâs first win, all fourteen of them beaming, her tiny figure squeezed between Jun and Hoshi. Sheâd been so happy then, so naive. Now, that memory felt like a lie. A sob clawed its way up her chest, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle it. But it broke free, loud and ragged, echoing in the empty room.
âWhy me?â she whispered to no one, her voice cracking. âI gave everything⊠everything⊠and itâs still not enough.â
Her gaze fell to her phone again. Against her better judgment, she reached for it, hands trembling. The lock screen showed a flood of unread messagesââY/N, please talk to us.â âWe miss you.â âYouâre our maknae, donât forget that.â She swiped them away, her breath hitching. She didnât want their kindness. She didnât deserve it.
Instead, she opened Twitter. Her name was trending again, a festering wound laid bare for the world to see. She scrolled, each comment a fresh stab to her heart.
âY/Nâs the reason Seventeenâs losing fans. Sheâs a talentless leech.â
âImagine training for years just to be a slut who rides her daddyâs coattails. Leave already.â
âThose wreaths arenât enough. She should just disappear for good.â
âSeventeen was perfect without her. Sheâs a parasite ruining thirteen good men.â
âNo one wants you, Y/N. Do us all a favor and quit.â
Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting. She clutched the phone tighter, her knuckles white, her sobs growing louder. âI tried,â she choked out, her voice barely audible. âI tried so hard⊠why do you hate me?â
Another comment loaded: âSheâs probably crying right now, playing the victim. Pathetic.â
The phone slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor. She buried her face in her knees, her body shaking with the force of her cries. âIâm not pathetic,â she whimpered, but the words felt empty. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was nothingâa burden, a mistake, a girl whoâd dared to dream and paid the price.
She didnât hear the rain anymore, didnât feel the cold seeping into her bones. All she felt was the weight of their words, crushing her until there was nothing left. Sheâd fought for years, but now⊠now she was tired. So tired.
âIâm sorry,â she whispered into the darkness, to the boys, to herself, to the dream sheâd once held so tight. âI canât do this anymore.â
The phone screen glowed beside her, still open to the endless stream of hate, each word a nail in the coffin of the girl she used to be.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The fluorescent lights of the PLEDIS office buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on Y/Nâs pale face. She sat across from her father, the man whoâd built this empire, her hands trembling as she clutched a pen. The contract termination papers lay between them, a stark white wound on the polished desk. Her manager, Minseo, stood by the window, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
âIâm leaving,â Y/N said, her voice flat, drained of the fire it once held. âI canât do this anymore.â
Her fatherâs jaw tightened, his eyes searching her faceâthose same eyes that had once sparkled with pride when she debuted. Now, they were clouded with something heavier: guilt, maybe, or regret. âY/N, you donât have toââ
âYes, I do,â she cut him off, her tone sharp but brittle, like glass about to shatter. âIâm not just losing the boys, Dad. Iâm losing me. Every day, I wake up and I donât know who I am anymore. My nameâitâs just⊠itâs just Seventeenâs punching bag. I canât breathe.â
He leaned forward, hands clasped, voice low and pleading. âWe can fight this. Weâll release a statement, hire more security, sue the worst of themââ
âNo!â Her shout echoed in the small room, startling her father. Y/Nâs chest heaved, tears brimming but refusing to fall. âIt wonât stop. Itâs been nine years, Dad. Nine years of wreaths, of threats, of people telling me Iâm a parasite. Iâm done dragging them down. Iâm done doubting myself because of it.â
Her father stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. âY/N, the boysâtheyâd want to know. Theyâd fight for you.â
Y/N shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. âThatâs why you canât tell them. Theyâd stop me. Seungcheol would lock me in a room until I changed my mind. Jeonghan would talk me to death. Seokminâheâd cry until I couldnât stand it. I know them too well.â She swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper. âBut I canât hold on anymore. Iâm choosing them⊠and Iâm choosing me.â
Her fatherâs hands trembled as he slid the papers closer. âWhere will you go?â
âAway,â she said simply, signing her name with a shaky hand. âMom think abroad is best. I need⊠I need to disappear for a while. To think. To stop drowning.â
Her fatherâs eyes softened, but she nodded. âWeâll keep it quiet. No leaks to the members. But Y/N⊠are you sure?â
Y/N didnât answer. She pushed the signed papers back, stood, and walked out without looking back. The door clicked shut behind her, a final, hollow sound.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Weeks later, Incheon International Airport was a blur of noise and motion, but Y/N moved through it like a ghost. Her hoodie was pulled low over her face, a baseball cap shielding her eyes. A single suitcase trailed behind herâeverything sheâd chosen to take from a life she was leaving behind. Her parents had arranged it all: a flight to somewhere far, somewhere quiet, somewhere she could vanish. Theyâd promised to handle the boys after the announcement, to soften the blow. But Y/N knew thereâd be no softening this.
She hadnât said goodbye. Her phone, now off and buried in her bag, had been silent for daysâno replies to the boysâ texts, no answers to their calls. Sheâd stopped opening her door when they knocked, their voices muffled through the wood: âY/N, please, just talk to us.â Sheâd sat against it once, listening to Mingyu beg, his voice cracking, until he gave up and left. It had broken her heart all over again, but she couldnât face them. Not when sheâd already decided.
The boarding call crackled over the speakers, and she handed her ticket to the agent with numb fingers. As she stepped onto the plane, the weight of it hit herâshe was leaving them. Her brothers. Her family. The only people whoâd ever truly seen her. A sob caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down, sinking into her seat by the window. The runway blurred outside as the plane taxied, and she pressed her forehead to the glass, whispering, âIâm sorry,â to no one but herself.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The Seventeen practice room was alive with its usual chaosâHoshi sprawled on the floor, panting after a run-through; Vernon scrolling through his phone; Seungkwan bickering with DK over a water bottle. It was break time, a rare moment of calm amidst their grueling schedule. The mirrors reflected thirteen tired but familiar faces, a unit unbrokenâuntil now.
Seungcheolâs phone buzzed on the bench, and he glanced at it, frowning. âWhat the hellâŠ?â His voice trailed off, and the room stilled as his expression darkened.
âWhatâs up, hyung?â Dino asked, sitting up from where heâd been stretching.
Seungcheol didnât answer. He held up his phone, the screen displaying a news alert from HYBE: âOfficial Statement: Y/N to Depart SEVENTEEN Effective Immediately.â
The air sucked out of the room. Vernon dropped his phone, the clatter deafening in the silence. âWhat?â he breathed, scrambling to his feet.
âNo way,â Mingyu said, voice shaking as he grabbed Seungcheolâs phone. âThis is fake. Itâs gotta be fake.â
Jeonghan snatched it from him, his eyes scanning the words, growing wider with every line. âDue to personal reasons⊠mutual agreement⊠effective immediatelyâŠâ His voice faltered, and he looked up, pale. âSheâs gone.â
âGone?â Hoshi shot up, his laugh disbelieving. âShe canât be gone. Sheâs on hiatus, notâshe wouldnât just leave us!â
Seungkwanâs hands shook as he pulled out his own phone, opening the statement. âItâs real,â he whispered, tears already welling up. âItâs on the official site. She⊠she left.â
The door burst open, and their manager, Joonho, stepped in, his face grim. The boys turned to him, a chorus of desperate voices erupting.
âIs it true?â Joshua demanded, his usual calm shattered. âDid she leave?â
Joonho nodded slowly, avoiding their eyes. âItâs true. She made the decision weeks ago. Signed the papers and everything.â
âWeeks?!â Wonwooâs voice cracked, raw and furious. âAnd you didnât tell us? She didnât tell us?â
âShe asked us not to,â Joonho said, his tone heavy. âShe didnât want you to know until it was done. Said youâd stop her.â
âOf course weâd stop her!â Seungcheol roared, slamming his fist against the wall. The sound reverberated, and the others flinched. âSheâs our maknae! Sheâs family! You donât justâhow could you let her do this?â
âShe was breaking, Cheol,â Joonho said quietly. âShe didnât want you to see her like that.â
DK sank to the floor, hands in his hair. âWe couldâve helped her. We were helping her. Why didnât she trust us?â
âShe didnât want to burden you,â Joonho replied, but the words only fueled their anguish.
âBurden us?â Mingyuâs voice broke into a sob. âShe was never a burden! She was oursâour Y/N!â
Vernon paced, tears streaming down his face. âWe shouldâve known. We shouldâve gone to her more, forced her to talkââ
âWe tried!â Jun snapped, his voice hoarse. âShe wouldnât let us in! She kept saying she was fine, and now sheâs just⊠gone?â
Seungkwan dialed her number, hands trembling. It didnât ringâjust dead silence. âHer phoneâs off,â he choked out, dropping it. âSheâs really gone.â
âLetâs go to her place,â Dino said suddenly, standing. âSheâs gotta be there. She wouldnât leave without saying anything.â
They piled into vans, a frantic, tear-streaked mess, ignoring Joonhoâs protests. The drive to her apartment was suffocating, the silence broken only by muffled sobs and the occasional, âShe wouldnât do this.â But when they arrived, the door was locked, the lights off. Mingyu pounded on it anyway, shouting, âY/N! Open the door! Please!â
No answer. A neighbor poked her head out, frowning. âSheâs not there. Moved out days ago.â
âDays?â Jeonghan echoed, his voice hollow. âSheâs been gone for days, and we didnât know?â
They drove to her parentsâ house next, a last desperate hope. Her mother answered, her face etched with sorrow. âSheâs not here,â she said softly, tears in her eyes. âShe left the country. She needed to get away.â
âAway?â Seungcheolâs voice was barely audible, broken. âShe left us?â
âShe didnât want to hurt you,â her mother whispered. âShe thought this was the only way. Sheâll come back when sheâs ready⊠when sheâs okay.â
âWhen sheâs okay?â Hoshi laughed, a bitter, broken sound. âShe left us, and we didnât even get to say goodbye! How are we supposed to be okay?â
Her mother flinched, but she had no answer. The boys stood there, thirteen shattered pieces of a whole that no longer existed.
âShe didnât even say goodbye,â Joshua murmured, staring at the ground as tears mixed with the rain on his face. âNine years⊠and sheâs just gone.â
Seungkwan sank to his knees on the wet pavement, sobbing. âWe were supposed to be fourteen forever.â
But they werenât. Y/N was gone, and the silence she left behind was louder than any hate sheâd ever faced.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The air in London had been crisp and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the humid chaos of Seoul. For nearly a year, Y/N had lived there, tucked away in a small flat with a view of the Thames. No one knew where she was except her parentsânot the boys, not the company, not the fans whoâd once hounded her every move. Her social media accounts sat dormant, frozen in time since that last post: a blurry photo of her hand holding a coffee cup, captioned âTaking a breath.â She hadnât touched her phone for anything beyond calls to her family. The hate comments, the wreaths, the venomâthey were a distant memory she refused to revisit.
Sheâd seen the boys once, thoughâon a grainy livestream of an award show, months after sheâd left. Seventeen had won Album of the Year, and Seungcheol had taken the mic, his voice steady but thick with something unspoken. âWe didnât fall because of anyone,â heâd said, eyes glistening. âWeâre still standing because of loveâbecause of family. We miss⊠that chaos, you know? And weâre not mad. Never will be.â Jeonghan had added, softer, âWe hope youâre smiling, wherever you are.â They hadnât said her name, but sheâd known. It was for her. Her chest had tightened, tears spilling silently down her cheeks as sheâd turned off the screen. But she didnât call. She didnât text. She just sat there, alone, letting the silence swallow her.
Now, after eleven months abroad, she could breathe again. The weight that had crushed her in Korea had lifted, bit by bit. She could smileânot the forced grins of survival, but the real ones, the ones that crinkled her eyes like they used to. Sheâd called her father last week, her voice steady for the first time in years. âIâm ready to come back,â sheâd said. âBut not to Seventeen. To me. I want to try⊠solo.â
Heâd paused, then sighedâa sound of relief, not disappointment. âWhatever you need, Y/N. Weâll make it happen.â
--------------------------------------------------------------
Sheâd been back in Korea for three months now, living in a quiet apartment on the outskirts of Seoul. The HYBE building hummed with activity, but she rarely crossed paths with anyone she knew. Seventeen was on their world tour, their schedules a whirlwind of planes and stages halfway across the globe. Sheâd heard their new album through the walls of a practice room onceâHoshiâs laughter in the background of a track, Mingyuâs warm vocals weaving through the melody. It had stopped her cold, her hand trembling on the doorknob. But sheâd walked away.
Her days were full now. She spent hours in the recording booth, her voice finding its footing againâstronger, clearer, hers. The studio smelled of coffee and warm electronics, a sanctuary where she could be Y/N, not âthe founderâs daughterâ or âSeventeenâs mistake.â She practiced choreography until her legs shook, the mirrors reflecting a woman reclaiming herself. The music video shoot had been gruelingâtwelve hours under blinding lights, her hair streaked with silver dye, her eyes fierce in a way they hadnât been before. The photoshoot proofs sat on her desk now: Y/N in a leather jacket, staring down the lens, unapologetic. She wasnât just surviving anymore. She was building something new.
âIâm not here because of anyone else,â sheâd told her producer, a steely edge to her voice as they reviewed tracks. âIâm here because I can do this. I will do this.â
Heâd nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. âI believe you.â
--------------------------------------------------------------
The tour bus rumbled through a foreign cityâChicago, maybe, or Toronto; the boys had lost track. The air inside was thick with exhaustion, the kind that settled into your bones after months on the road. Seventeen sprawled across the seats, a tangle of limbs and quiet murmurs. A year ago, this bus wouldâve been louderâY/Nâs voice cutting through the chaos, teasing DK about his snoring or roping Vernon into a prank on Woozi. Now, it was just thirteen.
Seungcheol stared out the window, his reflection pale against the night. âItâs almost a year,â he said suddenly, his voice low, almost lost in the hum of the engine.
The others looked up, the weight of his words sinking in. Mingyu rubbed his eyes, his usual brightness dimmed. âYeah. Anniversaryâs next month. Supposed to be ten years with her.â
âTen years,â Jeonghan echoed, leaning his head back against the seat. His fingers toyed with a bracelet Y/N had made him onceâbeads spelling out âHannieâ in her messy handwriting. âFeels wrong without her.â
Hoshi shifted, pulling his knees up. âI keep thinking sheâll just⊠show up. Like, burst through the door with that stupid grin, saying, âMiss me?ââ He laughed, but it broke into a shaky breath. âShe doesnât even know how much we miss her.â
âShe knows,â Joshua said quietly, his voice steady but his eyes distant. âShe saw that speech. Sheâs gotta know.â
âThen why hasnât she called?â Dino asked, his voice small, almost childlike. Heâd been the closest to her age, her partner in maknae mischief. âNot once. Not a text. Nothing.â
Minghao sighed, pushing his cap down over his eyes. âBecause sheâs healing. We canât force her back.â
âBut weâre her family,â Seungkwan said, his voice cracking. He clutched a photo on his phoneâa blurry shot of Y/N laughing at him during a concert, her hair a mess. âSheâs our only sister. Our maknae. Even if sheâs not here, she always will be.â
Vernon nodded, his jaw tight. âI get why she left. I do. That hate⊠it was eating her alive. But it still hurts, you know? Like thereâs this hole now.â
DK wiped at his eyes, trying to smile. âI miss her complaining. Sheâd whine about my singing being too loud, then hug me five seconds later. Iâd take all her pranks again if it meant sheâd just⊠talk to us.â
Seungcheol turned from the window, his expression hard but his eyes soft with unshed tears. âWe canât change it. Itâs done. Sheâs gone, and weâve gotta live with that. But if she ever comes backâsolo, whateverâIâll be the first in line to support her. Always.â
They all murmured agreement, a quiet pact forged in the ache of her absence. Theyâd accepted it, as much as they couldâunderstood the hell sheâd endured, the choice sheâd made. But acceptance didnât fill the void. They missed her chaos, her laugh, the way sheâd flop onto the couch after practice and demand they order food. They missed her. And they didnât know if theyâd ever get her back.
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Y/N stood in the recording booth, headphones snug over her ears, the mic a lifeline. The track playedâa slow, haunting ballad sheâd written herself, every note dripping with the pain sheâd carried and the strength sheâd found. She closed her eyes, letting her voice spill out, raw and unbroken.
Somewhere across the world, Seventeen took the stage, thirteen voices rising together, a harmony that still felt incomplete. They didnât know she was back. She didnât know they still left a space for her in their hearts. And for now, the silence between them stretched onâa fragile thread, waiting to snap or mend.
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an: Hi! Sorry this was late, but I hope you like it, anon, and I hope I got what you requested, heheheđ«¶
#âËàż 14th member đđËâ#seventeen 14th member#seventeen x reader#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#seventeen imagines#seventeen x you#seventeen scenario#seventeen x carat#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt x reader#seventeen
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"What do you want Stiles?"
"I wanted to talk to you, if you'll let me"
"I'm really not in the mood"
"Okay, we can just sit quietly then."
Stiles sat beside Derek, legs dangling out of the window as they both looked out across the empty space below. For once the boy was oddly still.
"Why are you here?"
"Because you're in pain. And I know you well enough at this point to know that you're going to sit here blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault."
"How can you say that? I should have done something... paid more attention... people died Stiles! Because I didn't stop her! You died!"
"I was only mostly dead." The ghost of a smile passed over his lips. "You didn't kill those people. You were taken advantage of by a mad woman on a quest for vengeance and whether it was magic or manipulation, it was not your fault."
Derek rested his head in his hands, rubbing his temples.
"Laura would have done better... she wouldn't let herself be used like that."
Stiles was quiet for a moment, before clearing his throat.
"You two lived in New York for... six years, right?"
"yeah...?"
"And in that time, did you spend time with any other packs?"
"No..."
"Did Laura ever talk about getting new betas, making your own proper pack?"
"No, she didn't."
"I don't think Laura would have made a better alpha than you. Maybe once, in an a historic pack with years of tradition and a network of support. But it's easy to lead when there's no adversity. Back when Peter was feral, if he'd somehow become alpha and you died in Laura's place, I don't think she would have been able to take him down. I think she would have run." Derek opened his mouth to speak, to defend his sister but Stiles held up a hand. "I'm not saying leaving Beacon Hills after the fire was wrong. But she had six years to come back, six years to help Peter, six years to build something new or ask for help. If she had lived and you had died, chances are Peter would still be feral. All the Argents would be dead, Scott and Jackson probably would as well. Because she would have run."
Stiles sighed and looked at Derek, eyes wide and earnest.
"It's funny, you act like all you feel is anger but your ability to love, to hope, it's one of your most powerful traits. You fight, fight for those you care about, fight for the change at something better. Even if you're afraid, you don't flee. You found three vulnerable teenagers and gave them a chance at something, a chance for family and friendship and life. You saved them. You stuck your neck out for Scott repeatedly. You accepted Peter back into your life. You don't run Derek. Laura shut herself off from any hope of a future. You let yourself be open to love and kindness and that is a thousand times more powerful than anything any other alpha could give us. That's why the darach manipulated you, because you were willing to hope. And I don't want to see you blaming yourself for that because even if you make mistakes, you always try to fix it. You are good Derek"
Stiles hand found Derek's and he squeezed lightly, the touch brief and faint as a whisper before disappearing as Stiles retreated to leave the alpha to his thoughts.
#teen wolf#derek hale#stiles stilinski#sterek#Kind of if you squint#laura hale#The Darach#jennifer blake#Stiles must protect sad puppy Derek
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A Pillar I Am Of Pride
vander x younger!fem reader
summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)
word count: 3,142 words
side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane. LIKE i got infected with a raw carnal primal need to write for one of zaun dilfs,, it literally took my brain hostage ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.
You just don't know when to quit.
Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.
He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.
There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.
He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.
"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.
He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.
That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.
So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.
He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.
"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.
When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?
"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.
He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.
"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"
He does so, because he can't deny you anything.
"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"
"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.
"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"
He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"
"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"
He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.
But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.
"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.
"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"
The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.
"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"
"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"
He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"
There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.
"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.
Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:
"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"
"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.
The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.
"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.
His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.
"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.
You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.
You just don't know when to quit.
"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"
He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.
"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.
You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.
"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"
You should've know when to quit.
His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.
"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"
Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.
"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"
You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.
So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.
Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.
"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.
"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.
Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"
He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.
"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.
"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.
You moan, head leaning back.
"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.
"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.
"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.
"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"
He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.
"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"
The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.
"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"
"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"
It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.
"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"
Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.
"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.
"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.
"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.
The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.
"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.
"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.
"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.
"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.
"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"
He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.
"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"
You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.
"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"
"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"
You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.
"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"
He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.
"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"
"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"
Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.
"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.
"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"
Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.
"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"
He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.
"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"
You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.
"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.
There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.
"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"
Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.
The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.
"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"
The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.
He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.
"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"
cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @arcanegifs
#dilfistwrites#arcane#arcane x reader#vander x reader#vander#vander arcane#arcane vander#vander x you#zaun dads#blisters and bedrock#arcane season 2#arcane season 1#arcane s1
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Thou Art with Child?!
Chapter 1- Stuck in Place
A/N: This story wonât be fully canon storyline wise, but almost all canon events did happen with specific plot moments changed for the sake of this story.
For example, White Lily cookie already been freed from her slumber in the Faerie Kingdom, certain characters not part of the Cookie of Darkness, the whole Beast-Yeast fiasco happening much much later.
ESPECIALLY having to deal with Dark Enchantress cookie running around because as far as I know that mf hasnât been stopped yet đ
Why? Because I CAN >:/



You were familiar with loneliness for years. Growing up you were an only child, no friends, no family, no partners. It never bothered you much, you preferred to live your live by your lonesome.
The problem is that others believed you were nothing more than a loser in the shadows. It sort of bothered you, but based on your social skills and personality, it was hard to even spark up a conversation with cookies.
That was until you met⊠them.
Oh, how you never thought you would feel this sort of way towards a cookie, nevertheless more than one. Maybe it was because of your loneliness, or the fact youâve never met cookies such as them before.
United from all across Earthbread to fight monsters and save cookie kind with such braveness and kindness, you couldnât help but admire them all.
Pure Vanilla cookie teaching you all sorts of healing spells, praising your magic. White Lily cookie timidly watching your skills with a smile, sitting in flowerbeds together. Golden Cheese cookie showing off her treasures with a cocky grin, doing little dances with her wings for you. Hollyberry cookie offering endless berry juice after battles, cuddling you so tight. Dark Cacao cookie drink tea with you, where you both painted together in comfortable silence.
Yet despite it all, your heart was given to them, and they turned it down. However you couldnât be mad at all, how could you? They were kind, and rejected your love with such gentleness you couldnât have the right to be upset, yet here you were.
Maybe it was your fault for being so foolish. They were THE heroes of Earthbread, destined to be rulers of their kingdoms and the saviors against Dark Enchantress cookie. How can you, a simple isolated mage, be worthy of their love?
You werenât.
And maybe you never will.
ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§
Whack
Whack
Whack
âUgh, I donât have the strength for this,â A cookie groaned lowly, already exhausted from endless hours of chipping away at the giant boulder made of amber that trapped you within. His intentions were clear, yet his execution was taking longer than expecting.
Strength wasnât his best attribute, only trusting his staff wonât break from the repetitive stabbing. Hours passed and he only managed to make a bowl shaped indent, causing the cookie to be ticked off with his lack of patience.
âEnough of this!!â He let out a shout of stress, grabbing a heavy rock from the ground and smashing it over the amber. Panting heavily, he snapped down when he heard a crack, seeing the rock embedded above the thick layer where your head was.
Slowly, the crack grew, before beams of light seeped through the cracks. The cookie quickly scrambled back, frantically finding his staff with his hand when he dropped it, his eyes never leaving the giant mass of amber fully cracking, flinching when your eyes snapped alive and made contact with his.
WHOOSH
The cookie covered his face when a bright powerful beam of light shot through the trees and into the sky, forming a hole within the clouds. The cookie was in shock and slight awe at the sudden show of light, where the light eventually shrunk and disappeared completely.
It felt like life began the moment light hits your eyes, causing a hiss to slip from your mouth, shutting them tightly. You felt the weight of your body tilting to the side, every limb was sore the moment you felt warmth on your body.
âCome come, no need to close those eyes again. Think about the baby~â A voice crooned in your ear. Fighting to open your eyes, your vision cleared to stare at the cookie who caught you before you landed on the ground.
His eyes are a piercing white with dark, slit pupils half lidded with heavy purple eyeshadow, gazing into yours with such intent behind them. A sly grin on his dough face while you felt his gloved hand pet your hair. His clothes, layers among layers with silk and fluffy fabrics, like they were made for the cold, and they looked familiar⊠wait- what did he say?
âBabyâŠ?â You asked groggily, âBaby⊠baby!! Whereâs my baby?!â Your heart dropped and you sat upright, accidentally hitting the cookies forehead and caused him to cry out in pain. You couldnât fail as a parent now!! He- she? They!! were just born a few moments ago!!
âW-what the-?! I canât move!â Amber was still encasing around your legs, preventing any more movement as the cookie kept a hand on your shoulder. Your baby werenât in your arms, where in the Oven is your baby dough?!
âStop squirming, youâll twist a limb!â He hissed, downing you down before raising his staff above his head, slamming the end down where your legs were. Thankfully it didnât explode into another beam of light, the cookie thought as the amber crumbled and freed your legs.
You lifted your legs, ruffling off some bits of the petrified sap off your clothes before hearing a tiny hiccup. Your head snapped to the cookie, where you saw your bundle of dough in his right arm, cradling your baby dough.
The cookie already looked uncomfortable with the baby in his hands, so you quickly grabbed the bundle and wrapped your arms
âHey there,â You finally said, hearing baby dough coo and giggle, you gave a sigh of relief knowing your magic protected both of you from that explosion.
Speaking of which, what happened after?
âWhat the oven happenedâŠ?â You whispered more to yourself, âI remember an explosion to a mountain⊠then- Vanilla Kingdom!!â Your head shot up to the mountain sky, but felt dread when you couldnât spot the Vanilla Kingdom, only a giant mass of gray clouds.
âDark Enchantress cookie, was she stopped? Did they need help? I-Iâm not strong with my magic, but I can heal good!â You spluttered out to the cookie. Despite the hurt of their rejection, you couldnât let that stop you from helping your only friends.
The cookie watched with his piercing cat-like eyes watching every movement you make. Your adrenaline finally lowered, causing you to shiver violently when the cold air hits your dough.
Your baby dough began to whimper and cry from the cold too, tucking them to your chest while the cookie suddenly wrapped his fur boa around your shoulders, the end parts snuggling up to your baby.
âI must apologize,â He shook his head with his saddened expression, âHowever, the Vanilla Kingdom is no more,â The world felt like it stopped once more. The kingdom was goneâŠ? What about the other kingdoms? Were they destroyed by the hands of Dark Enchantress cookie?
Did she win? When did snow fell amongst your forest home? How long were you exactly stuck inside the amber?
âHow⊠how long ago?â What came out was a whisper, close to a whimper as sorrow filled your cookie body. The cookie walked up from behind and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder, his way of comfort, or at least thatâs what you believed.
âSince the Dark Flour war, 150 years ago,â You felt like throwing up again. Your legs felt wobbly was your world felt like it was falling apart. Almost two centuries you were trapped in time.
âSo thatâs why⊠everything is different,â You pointed out, eyes closing when snowflakes dropped around your face. Your breathing was staggered, almost choking on the frigid cold air.
âMy⊠friends⊠theyâre allâŠâ The cookie nodded slowly, having a dishearten look while shaking his head. Your heart ached so tightly it felt like shriveling up into nothing. That meant that your village, or friends, everything was gone.
The world may have continued forward, but you were stuck in the past, memories of merely seeing them last week felt like a trick. Your baby whined when a droplet of water fell onto their face, making you realize that you were crying.
Here you are, awakened from amber after 200 years to find out not only every cookie you once knew was gone, but the kingdoms of your
âCrying will do no cookie any good,â You whispered, wiping the tears away before pulling at the fur bow more around your shoulders. Turning around, you looked behind the cookie and at what remained of your house.
You were surprised to see it still holding up after all this time, though it seemed like it would turn to dust at any single touch. This was the only place to call home, leaving wasnât an option considering the forest was snow an endless snowfall, which wasnât good for your baby dough.
âThis wonât doâŠâ You mumbled, crouching down and touching the snow with your whole palm. Magic swirled around your hand before spreading across the forest floor, melting the snow and spreading lush grass and flowers around the open forest.
The cookie watched with wide eyes seeing the snow beneath his shoes melt and flowers blossomed. His gloved hand gently pushed at purple bellflowers that sprouted around the house.
âWho, exactly are you?â He finally said, looking up at you while you cradled your baby dough. Your house began to slowly rebuild itself, the wood dried up and nails dug into each board to hold stable until it was reformed back to what it once was before your body was frozen in time.
â(Y/N) cookie, at your service,â You bowed respectfully. The cookie said nothing for a moment, as if the mention of your name caused some sort of reaction hidden within his eyes.
The realization left as quickly as it came, and he gave a sultry grin.
âA pleasure to meet such a powerful cookie~ You may get to call me Affogato Cookie~,â He let a smooth chuckle through his lips, bowing down to copy my actions. You smiled awkwardly from him saying you were powerful. Ha! As if.
Now that your emotions were in a steady state right now, you took a good look at this Affogato cookie. He looked royal, or at least sophisticated from the clothes he wore, yet they looked ruffled. Despite his fancy clothes, he looked disheveled, as if he was tossed into trash and abandoned.
Heh, like a cat.
âYou look awful,â That granted a glare from him, âWould you like to come inside? Itâs the least I could do for freeing me- usâŠâ Baby dough whined and squirmed in the bundle of blankets, wanting warmth.
Affogato cookie suddenly felt unsure. Heâs seen many things during his attempt to take over the Cacao Kingdom, but he has never seen such a cookie like yourself.
He didnât know how long he was running through, he doesnât even know if he was still in Dark Cacao Kingdom territory, but now heâs found literally history from the past who was able to wield magic like it was nothing stuck in amber like a fossil.
You didnât even know him, but youâre treating him with such foolish kindness (to him it was), welcoming him because he freed you. He could use this, he could find a way to use you to get back at Dark Cacao cookie, back at the kingdom that turned its back on him.
âIt would be very hospitable of you, (Name) cookie~â
ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§ê§ ê§
âYou saw that too, right?!â Gingerbrave bounced around, tugging at the sleeve of Pure Vanillaâs robe, âThat big âol explosion just shot out a big beam into the sky!!â The cookie turned and proceeded to shake Wizard Cookie, who was so close in knocking Gingerbrave out with his wand.
Inside the walls of the CrĂšme Republic, in substitute while the Vanilla Kingdom rebuilds itself, gathered the reunited Ancients of Earthbread. Along was the crew of Gingerbrave and his friends, every cookie at slight ease after the sudden silence of Dark Enchantress cookie.
âOf course, which is why I summoned everyone here, my dear Gingerbrave,â Pure Vanilla cookie smiled, his staff indicating that he was amused yet concerned. Whatever magic caused a blast like that, it was either something incredible or something dangerous.
âThe Elders allowed us to use this meeting room once more to discuss what transpired merely moments ago, a great beam of light sprouting into the sky by strong magic of it was able to be seen by us thousands of miles away,â Pure Vanilla cookie explain softly, his staff peering down at everyone to see their reaction.
Dark Cacao was deep in thought, as the sudden beam was at the borders of his Kingdom and Hollyberryâs borders. Hollyberry tapped her chin while also wondering the same thing, her memories trying to recognize where sheâs seen the placement. Golden Cheese furrowed her eyebrows, her wings fluttering his body to the ground. And White Lily fiddled with her staff with nervousness, still awkward in being in the same room with her friends.
âWhat do you think it is?â Strawberry cookie mumbled, tugging at her hoodie strings, âHopefully something that wonât cause another war,â Wizard cookie leaned his head against his wand, dreading at the thought of another battle against a Cookie of Darkness.
âSome sort of valuable treasures I bet,â Chili pepper cookie grinned while rubbing her hands together. âYour king does live a sort of mystery,â Custard cookie beamed, trying to jump to see the table better.
âCould it be Dark Enchantress cookieâŠ?â White Lily cookie mumbled under her hand, heart beating faster in fear at the thought of her counterpart causing more pain and suffering to poor cookies because of her.
âBah! Nothing that we canât handle now that we have united again,â Golden Cheese cookie boasted, twirling her spear before slamming it onto the ground.
âWould you wish for me to send soldiers to investigate?â Dark Cacao suggested, already knowing which soldiers to send just in case. He trusts that his First Watcher would track such a power down and inform him right away.
âOr would you like us to go there ourselves?â Hollyberry grinned while slamming her hand against her fist, hoping this was another beast for her to fight. âYeah! Maybe they want to be friends!â Gingerbrave butted in while jumping up and down.
âI believe itâs another deceitful trick from Dark Enchantress cookie,â Golden Cheese cookie huffed, âOf thatâs the case, then we must act fast,â Pure Vanilla replied with a determined look, giving White Lily cookie a comforting smile.
They all must figure such a mystery out, for it may even be a key into finally sealing away Dark Enchantress cookie once and for all.
âOnward, friends! To adventure!â

A/N: Ngl, I gotta need more ideas to this story, I want another traveling cookie like Olive cookie (I think the dynamic with her and Affogato would be funny) or even Caramel Arrow cookie (love my queen) to join the little family youâre building, like the big sister for Baby dough.
Also I need a name for Baby dough, any suggestions? Or do I leave them with the name Baby dough?
Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @ceramic-raven @danart501 @esposadomd @trashlanternfish360 @jjoppees @nervousalpacalady @eyeless-kun @pinkcloudcat @lunamonkeypower @soriansick @your-favorite-god @fandom-freak-123 @cupid73
#cookie run kingdom x reader#cookie run x reader#yandere cookie run#maybe#depends really#crk x reader#pure vanilla cookie x reader#golden cheese cookie x reader#hollyberry cookie x reader#dark cacao cookie x reader#white lily cookie x reader#affogato cookie x reader
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đŹđšđŠđđ ⊠EXHAUSTED? â ïč æŻ ïč
ê° ă ê± yushi is never too exhausted for you.
ê° ă ê± tokuno yushi && fem!reader content smut. dry humping. nipple sucking. â 1.1k words
ê° 'ă
' ê± idk i just want yushi guys... i fear i'm obsessing over him and riku pls save me
youâre curled up on the sofa, half-watching a movie, when you hear the soft jingle of keys and the front door creaking open and then shutting quietly.
you know itâs yushi. you can feel it in the way the silence changes.
you pause the movie, turning around, resting your chin on the back of the couch as you wait for him.
his shoes are kicked off carelessly by the door, his bag and keys abandoned somewhere in the entrance hall like heâs too tired to even think about them. when he finally drifts into the living room, you see himâand he looks like heâs carrying the weight of the world.
his shoulders are heavy, his steps slow, like walking takes more effort than he has to give.
you open your arms without saying a word, welcoming him into the space he needsâthe space thatâs always just you.
he sinks into you without hesitation, practically collapsing onto you with a tired sigh, his face nuzzling into your chest like itâs the only place he can breathe.
his arms tighten around your waist, clinging to you, and you let your fingers trail through his soft hair, scratching gently at his scalp, pressing the occasional kiss to the top of his head.
âwanna tell me about your day?â you whisper into his hair, your voice slow and sweet, careful not to disturb the fragile quiet.
he shakes his head against your chest, still hiding, still holding on to you. âit was a long day. the comeback just happened and weâre already preparing for the next. everythingâs moving too fast.â his words are muffled, but you catch every one.
âpoor ushiâŠâ you coo, dotting a few more soft kisses to his hair.
âyeah, poor meâŠâ he mumbles, but thereâs the faintest tug at his lips, a slow, lazy smile blooming where his exhaustion lingers. âthink i deserve some kisses for working so hard.â
you canât help but smile as he finally lifts his head, a soft pout forming as he waits, expectant and sweet, like he knows you could never say no to him.
you cradle his cheek with your palm, ready to give him what heâs asking for, and yushi shifts, settling between your legs, leaning in just right so your lips can meet his.
it was supposed to be a soft kiss. thatâs how it always starts.
but your boyfriend has other ideas.
his hands slide over yours, gently threading your fingers together before he pins them above your head, pressing them into the cushions. you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, slow but firm, pulling you under.
itâs not the kiss you expected. itâs the kind that leaves you dazedâmessy and consuming, the kind that leaves your lips tingling and damp, the kind he loves.
you move instinctively, curling one leg around his waist, and yushi takes that as permission to roll his hips into yours, pressing against you in just the right way.
âi thought you were tired,â you murmur, breathless when he pulls back just enough to steal another look at you.
his grin is slow, teasing. âyou gave me a power surge.â
yushi leans in again, catching your lips in another kiss, dragging his hips against you slowly, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.
his grip loosens on one of your hands, trailing down to your thigh, pulling you closer, guiding you just where he wants you.
you can feel him nowâcompletely, cock achingly hard through his sweatpants.
youâre not much betterâyour panties already damp, warmth pooling between your legs as you rock against him, chasing that delicious friction.
your other hand finds its way to his neck, pulling him closer as your thighs frame his waist. yushi lets his hands drift lower, spreading your legs just enough to move against you harder, deeper, sending sparks rippling through you.
his bulge drags perfectly against your clit, making you moan his name, breathless and desperate.
he dips his head, his lips finding the curve of your neck, trailing slow kisses across your collarbones, the tip of his tongue teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt.
he doesnât bother taking it off.
the soft suckling, the press of his tongue, the heat of his breathâitâs too much, in the most perfect way.
youâre already trembling, already gasping, the edge creeping up on you faster than you thought it would. your fingers tighten in his hair, your hips grinding harder, needing moreâneeding him.
he growls softly against your chest, his pace picking up, his lips finding yours again in a kiss thatâs all teeth and need, as if he canât bear to be any further from you, even for a second.
yushi feels it. the way youâre clenching around nothing, the way your whole body goes taut, and thenâyour grip slackens, your lips part, your head tips back slightly as you ride out the wave, breathless and soft beneath him.
he doesnât stop moving, his own release coming in shallow thrusts, feeling the wet heat spreading across his boxers, soaking into his pants.
he presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your lips, whispering between them.
âsorry, baby⊠made a mess,â he breathes, smiling against your skin. âbut you look so pretty like this.â
you just smile, basking in the quiet, in his weight on top of you, in the gentle warmth blooming in your chest.
but he knows you. he knows your silence. he knows thereâs more.
his gaze flicks up to you, searching. âwhatâs wrong? didnât like it?â
you bite your lip, shy, the heat rising to your cheeks betraying you.
he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. âtell me.â
you lift onto your elbows, brushing your lips against his collarbone, leaving the faintest nip there before whispering, âneed moreâŠâ
he huffs out a soft laugh, his whole face lighting up as you trail kisses up to his neck, leaving tiny, warm marks along the way.
âthen iâll give you more.â
he kisses you again, his teeth catching your bottom lip, and then, without warning, he scoops you into his arms, making you squeal and cling to him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist.
heâs already carrying you to the bedroom, not bothering to slow down, not caring about how little energy he promised he had.
because nothing, not exhaustion, not tomorrow, not the world outsideânothing could keep him from loving you for the rest of the night.
#nct fanfic#nct imagines#nct smut#nct wish fanfic#nct wish imagines#yushi fanfic#yushi imagines#yushi x reader#yushi smut
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The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It
Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because theyâre angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon
A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! đđđ
Requests are open! đź
Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?
Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.
Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.
M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.
Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.
Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.
Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.
#preference#headcanon#billy butcher#billy butcher x reader#hughie campbell#hughie campbell x reader#annie january#annie january x reader#mm#mm x reader#marvin milk#marvin milk x reader#frenchie#frenchie x reader#kimiko miyashiro#kimiko miyashiro x reader#homelander#homelander x reader#the boys#the boys x reader
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everything - qian kun
wc: 0.5k
summary: kun + his late night confessions when he thinks youâre sleeping âĄ
warnings: nothing !!! this is pure sweetness
an: i think im dying and so for now updates will be very slow while i try my hardest to work on the vday event !!! here is something small so you guys donât go without ⥠all other requests are being saved for the event, so if youâre wondering where yours is, itâs there :>
p.s. happy belated wayv day !!! i love those boys sm and so this is my little thing for them,, itâs also my first wayv fic so thatâs exciting although i will give a real first one in the future thatâs a little longer..
âââââ ââ
âč âș đ á©§ àșŒ ÍĄ à§Ż âĄà»â á©§àșŒ ê±àœČàŸ âș âč â
â âââââ
itâs been quite a long day for you both, full of running errands and meeting up with friends. finally, you were able to settle down in bed and get your well deserved sleep. your boyfriend, however, is still awake, even into the early hours of the morning.
he rests his head on his shoulder, leaning over your sleeping frame, watching you with pure adoration. heâs truly so happy to have your presence in his life, and thankful that you stayed with him throughout the whole day despite knowing how antsy you were getting and how your feet started to hurt. of course, he always did his best to help you through the pain, even offering to go home, but you refused, insisting that you stay with him the whole day.
when he looks down at you, lips in a pout from your cheek being pressed against your arm, these feelings become so much stronger. you always say you arenât doing anything for him knowing that he does all the work of being responsible and everything, but that couldnât be farther from the truth. even if itâs not physical, youâre already doing enough just from being by his side and loving him. heâll always remind you of that, even when youâre not listening.
he puts a string of hair behind your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âi love you so much..â he might not be tired, but prolonged silence still makes his voice sound like it. âyouâre my everything, my sweet, sweet girl..â
his thumb traces a line from the corner of your eye past your cheek, down to the corner of your lip. you barely even move when he does so, making him a little bolder as he leaves another kiss in place of his thumb.
âyou make me the happiest iâve been in my entire life.. i hope i do the same for you. if you donât feel it, iâll do everything in my power to help you feel the same. if i could, iâd shape the entire world with my bare hands if you asked. i love you with my entire being, and iâll always go to a length greater than the last to prove it. there wonât ever be a day where i stop, even in death. my soul will always find yours, in this life, in the afterlife, and our next. i swear to you that this will forever.â this whole time heâs had a hand on you in some way, but now he finally rests his head on the pillow next to you and brings you into his chest.
with a kiss to the top of your head long enough to say everything else without words, he concludes his sentiment and finally, his eyes shut. just as he finally tips over the edge into slumber, he awakens once again to you scooting closer to him, wrapping an arm and leg around him with a kiss to his collarbone. now, heâs sure to never fall asleep knowing that youâve definitely caught him.
âââââ ââ
âč âș đ á©§ àșŒ ÍĄ à§Ż âĄïżœïżœâ á©§àșŒ ê±àœČàŸ âș âč â
â âââââ
perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie (check privacy settings if it isnât working !!)
#mejaemin#nct#nct x reader#wayv x reader#qian kun#qian kun x reader#wayv kun#nct kun#nct fluff#wayv fluff#qian kun fluff#kun fluff#â reqs à° ââżâ à°
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Current Era Herrscher Reader x Fire Moth Members
Part 1, Part 2

Synopsis: The CE (Your/Name) is enlisted to World Serpent following a run-in that resulted in their involvement with one of Jackalâs experiments and enters the Elysian Realm. This is probably the final part unless you want to see an epilogue. Also, spoilers for the Chapters 29-31.
The first half will serve as an introduction and as Kevin and Elysiaâs parts. The second half will be the other Flame-chasers.
The cold corridors of World Serpentâs base made your skin crawl as you were dragged along the ice-cold floor with a bag over your head and your arms chained behind you with Honkai-suppressing properties. It was a rather medieval experience but certainly not of the ones you were keen on experiencing.
âNow, now. Letâs all take a moment to calm down and-âÂ
âOh, shut up already!â One of Jackalâs subordinates smacked you across your face to shut you up, which it did - for a few seconds.
âCome now, friends. Canât we at least take off the hood? Iâm starting to fall asleep here! At least, let me look around!â
âGod, theyâre so annoying.â The person on your left muttered.
âRelax, weâre almost at the Sireâs throne room.â The person to your right calmed down their friend. âWe can leave them there and Lady Jackal will take over from there.â
âI know, I know... Hey, do you think the Sire does anything besides sit on his throne-â
âBoth of you, silence.â A womanâs voice shut them both up and made you perk up upon hearing the newcomer approach you while two sets of footsteps went in the other direction. Her heels clicked on the floor and circled around you as you could feel her sizing you up until she stopped behind you. âGet up.â You could feel her warm breath on your ear and shivered slightly but obliged to her command.
âYou must be Jackal. Your helpers were lovely company, though I have more reason to believe youâll be far more charming!â You smile despite the grim situation you found yourself in, finding everything happening around you far too amusing to not enjoy the moment.
Jackal doesnât say anything to you; she merely pushes you up the stairs and into a large throne room where the temperature had dropped immensely. However, the more important factor was the even more immense power radiating from the person sitting in the throne in the center that was enough to attract your attention.
âSire. Iâve brought the individual responsible for the stagnation of our operations.â
âHey, donât forget your two friends! They did most of the heavy lifting-â
Smack!
âDo not mention those incompetent buffoons.â
âSorry...â
â...Understood.â The person called âSireâ said and you could tell it was a maleâs. âDo they have a name?â
âOf course, Sire. Their name is...â You could hear Jackal calmly shuffling through papers, the calmness of her movements turning agitated as she couldnât for the life of her find your name.
âAre you sure youâre not the incompetent one?â You inquire in a mock innocent tone, tilting your head at the woman who was seconds away from smacking you again.
âHow dare you-â
âJackal.â The man merely said. âLeave us. Youâve done enough.â
âY-Yes, Sire...â You heard the disappointment in Jackalâs voice and felt a bit bad for her but your attention went over to the leader of his organization.
âAre you done playing your games, Herrscher?â
You smile and stood up, breaking the chains binding you as if they were made of glass. âYeah, maybe a little. Iâll save it for Madame Jackal. I also heard that there was a pretty little bird wandering here as well.â Pulling the hood of your head, you were prepared to face an icy stare of a monster but were instead met with a slightly wide eyed stare from a white-haired man who was, for whatever reason, surprised to see your face. âSo, youâre this âSireâ that Iâve been hearing a lot about? Hm... That doesnât sound cool enough. How about âIce Cube?â Does that sound good?â
â...(Your/Name)?â You heard him whisper, still taken aback by your appearances, and you raised an eyebrow.
âHuh? You know my name? Who are you, Ice Cube?â
â...â The king of ice shook his head and regained his composure, although, you could see the tiniest crack in his mask. âIt is not your business, Herrscher. What matters now,â He stood up from his throne, summoning a mighty greatsword of flames from nowhere and heating up the room. âis what you plan on doing now.â
âHeh, Iâm quite confident in my fighting capabilities, Ice Cube.â You smiled and ready yourself for battle. âBut, how about this? If I win, I get to walk free and you wonât bother me ever. If you win, then Iâll help you with whatever cult-y things youâre doing.â
The man didnât say anything and you took his silence as his agreement to the terms. Stretching your body, you prepared to fight-
===
A Few Weeks Later...
===
You totally lost won the fight.
......
Ahem, Kevin didnât exactly beat you into the dirt like some may have thought but it was more comparable to an older brother scolding their mischievous younger sibling.
Silver lining: you were able to force out of him a terrifying transformation that no one in this era had ever seen before and destroyed around 80% of the main World Serpent base, earning you the animosity of Jackal who had to clean up after you two.
After you woke up, you found the man waiting patiently for you and he introduced himself to you as Kevin Kaslana. That name... It made you feel an odd sense of nostalgia but you couldnât put your finger on it and he didnât seem to want to say anything when you pestered him about this. You decided to honor your side of the agreement since you were seeking answers from Kevin.
âAre you focusing on the mission?â Your elder in the World Serpent hierarchy, a woman with short, light gray hair and crimson orbs, shook you out of your reminiscing with her question, mistaking your silence for... window shopping.
âOf course I am, Songbird! Itâs just... *sighs* Iâm bored.â
âSo, you arenât focusing...â
âCâmon, Songbird. All of this waiting around and spying is booooooring! Letâs go grab something to eat, just me and you, and then we can go back to base together!â
âPass.â Raven bluntly replied and kept looking through the scope of her sniper rifle, surveying the dull buildings and dark alleyways.
âWhy are you so fixated in this Kiana girl anyways? Got a grudge or something?â
â...Something like that.â
You raise an eyebrow but before you could comment on it, you received a transmission to return to base.
âOh, got to go, Songbird. Ice Cubeâs calling me back. You fine with staying in Arc City while only having Jackal for company?â
âIs anyone ever fine with that?â Raven remarks as you both chuckle before bidding farewell to each other.
After a long ride back with nothing to do to pass the time, you found yourself outside of the throne room and were (not) surprised to find Kevin waiting for you in his usual stance: arms crossed and eyes closed.
âYo, Ice Cube!â You shouted, waving a hand at the man when he opened his eyes. There was a tiny inkling of relief in his blue eyes before he snuffed it out as quickly as it had surfaced. âWhyâd you call me back?â
â(Your/Name), I think itâs time for you to learn the truth of the Honkai and visit the Elysian Realm.â
âAlready?â You raise an eyebrow, having heard of this place from âSongbirdâ and admitted that you were a tad bit curious about this mysterious location. Though, you werenât expecting to be sent there this early, considering that Raven had only gone recently after many years of serving World Serpent. âDonâtcha think you should wait until springing something this important upon me, Ice Cube?â
âYouâre... a special case.â You saw the odd look in Kevinâs eyes return and decided to not comment on it as he continued to stare off into space.
â...Soooo, where do I go exactly?â
Kevin snapped out of his sorrowful reminiscing and pointed toward the ominous, dark hallway at the end of the corridor.
âAh, of course. I should have known that it would be in the creepiest place here... Later, Ice Cube.â You shake your head and waved goodbye. You headed off in the direction that Kevin had indicated, noticing that the only footsteps echoing throughout the hallway was yours. But, when you looked back, he was gone. âHow does he keep doing that...?â You thought to yourself and merely shrugged it off for now - there were more pressing matters to attend to.Â
Each step you took forward toward the Elysian Realm seemed to make each subsequent step feel even heavier than the previous. You felt a bud of unease growing in your chest the closer you got to those ominously inviting doors.
Placing a hand on the doors, you readied yourself to find what was inside, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, and then kicking the door open with a bright smile.
âGreetings for I, Y/N - the one and only Herrscher of World Serpent, have arrived! No need for applause or cheers!â You waited...and waited for a response but were only met with a dead silence. Anyone could have dropped a needle and you would have heard it.
When you opened your eyes, you found...an empty room.
âReally? No one to greet little olâ me? Ice Cubeâs gonna get a scolding from me...â With an annoyed pout, you venture deeper into this odd place, left with a sour taste in your mouth after this initial disappointment that was soon washed away with the spectacle that was this location.
On your left was a wall stacked with memorials and trinkets from the Previous Era, a minibar, and a small lounge area. Meanwhile, on your right was a set of peculiar tubes with seemingly no significant purpose and a large table with various screens pulled up on the back wall, showing... Well, you didnât pay much attention to the details in the real world so why would you now?
What really caught your attention was the floating device in the back-center, radiating a strange pink light.
âHm... I probably shouldn't touch that...â
...
"Oh, who am I kidding?" You press some buttons and, after a bright flash of light, found yourself on a strange platform that looked nothing like the lobby area. However, before you could question your surroundings, Honkai beasts began to emerge from the ground.
With a smirk, you summon your weapon and twirl it.
Back in the lobby, a single Flame-chaser logged in and let out a yawn.
âHi~! Sorry for being a little late, I wanted to make sure I looked my best for you, newcomer~!â The extroverted woman with pointy ears looked around to see that no one was here. She was a little disappointed but also didnât mind at the same time.
âOh, they must be running late as well. Iâll just wait here then~!â Elysia excitedly sat down on one of the couches and waited patiently...for a couple of minutes...
âAny minute now~!â
A few more minutes pass...
âAny minute now...â
Those few minutes of waiting eventually turn into hours...
â...D-Did I get the day wrong? Kevin wouldnât lie to me, would he? No, heâs too nice to do that.â Elysia was now curled up into a ball, a rather adorable pout on her face as she struggled to hold back dramatic tears. âNonono, I made sure to not mess up the date. So, where are they?âÂ
Elysia sniffed twice before she heard the sound of the portal to the deeper parts of the Elysian Realm open and realized what happened. She quickly wiped her face and returned to her normal, chirpy self in no time.
âHiii~!â Elysia turned her head to greet the ânewcomerâ with her usual bright smile. âWelcome to-â Her eyes widened and her smile faltered when she saw your face and the blood trickling down your face as many emotions and memories overwhelmed her.
âOh, hey. Do you know where I am?â You casually ask, smiling happily while fixing your clothes that were in tatters after your little âElysian Realm Test Run.â Your good mood was quickly replaced with confusion when you looked back up to see the elf-eared woman staring straight at you with a shocked expression and tears welling up in her eyes.
â(Y-Your/Name)?â Elysiaâs voice cracked when she said your name. She knew that another Y/N would be born in the Current Era and that the one she knew was long gone, but that didnât make it hurt any less when you said:Â Â
âDo I know you?â
With a forced smile, Elysia shook her head and muttered a soft âNo, of course not...â
âHey, I might not know who you are...â You close the distance between you and her, and cupped her face, wiping her tears away. âBut, that doesnât mean I wonât be concerned when you start to cry after seeing me.â
Elysia smiled at you and grabbed your hands, noting how delicate and smooth they felt. Just then, a strange sensation shot through her and your body, and her eyes widened in shock.
âY-Youâre...â
âOh, right. I should probably introduce myself anyways even though you already know my name...â Taking a few steps back and pulling your hands away from a frozen-in-place Elysia, you simply bowed. âI am [Your/Name] [Last/Name], this eraâs Herrscher of Binding.â
âOh...â Elysia cupped your face, her eyes sparkling with tears and her smile replaced with a frown - a sight that had never been seen before. âHow cruel can fate be? To make you shoulder the burdens of a Herrscher once more...â
âHuh? What are you talking about?â
Elysia did not answer and simply shook her head before turning away, disabling herself for the time being as she disappeared in a flash of light.
Even if you had no idea what was going on, you still felt a pang of guilt in your chest, followed by a soul-crushing feeling when you remembered Elysiaâs face.
You questioned if you should have even came here and decided that perhaps it would be best to leave as things had gone way off course to what you imagined and the mood was ruined.
However, before you stepped back through the door to the real world, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you and turned your head to see Kevin.
âOh, Ice Cube... When did you get here and why did you even send me here? I donât mind the extra training from that device back there but I feel like I could get the same results in... What?â
â...â Kevin didnât say anything and continued to stare at you in a mixture of utter confusion and shock.
You were confused by the surprise on Kevinâs face, wondering why he was making the same expression he had done when you first met him. Then, you felt the power exuding from him.
âIce Cube, when did you... How did you get this strong in such a short time frame!? Youâve been holding back against me?â
â...No, I believe youâre misunderstanding the situation. Do you not know where you are?â A tilt of the head from you was all he needed to know that, yes, you had no idea where you were. â...(sighs) Follow me.â Kevin merely said and led you over to the lounge area where he would explain the purpose of the Elysian Realm to you.
===
...Timeskip...
===
âI see...â You nodded and gazed at the table in front of you, sitting on the opposite side of the lounge from Kevin. âSo, this is where you make your noodles.â
â...Were you even paying attention?â
âYeah, yeah. This is the place where the memories of the Previous Eraâs greatest warriors are stored in the form of simulations - which is what you are - and where I can learn more about them. But, do you have any idea how famous your noodles are in the outside world?â
âFocus, Y/N.â PE Kevin tried to grab your attention but you were well off in your own world.
âI mean, some people at World Serpent worship them more than you-â
âDo you not wish to learn more of what your connection to the Previous Era is? To learn of why the other me and I reacted the way we did?â You didnât respond but the silence in the lounge spoke louder than words. âThen, I would suggest you explore more and seek out answers.â Kevin recommended to you before making a swift exit.
You stared down at the unopened instant noodles in your hand before sighing to yourself and placing it on the table. âGuess you were always supposed to be good at convincing me then, Ice Cube.â You left the lounge and approached the floating device once more, Kevinâs advice echoing in your mind, followed by a series of questions.
Who was I to these people?
What happened to the PE version of me?
Why did Ice Cube send me here?
Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button and closed your eyes as you felt yourself being teleported deeper inside this mysterious place. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself back on the platform with Honkai beast simulations appearing around you and readied yourself to fight your way through this strange world for the answers to the questions plaguing your mind.
The beasts were no match for you and they were annihilated within seconds thanks to your Herrscher powers.
However, now, you found yourself facing three floating mechanisms all with different symbols in the center which wasnât present the first time. You looked around for a guide, but found none, unaware that the person that was supposed to be your guide through the Elysian Realm had left you in tears and disabled herself for the time being.
However, even without Elysia here, you could tell that the realm was waiting for you to make a choice and your eyes flickered between the gateways before you finally made your choice...
Aponia [III] - Discipline
"You're... No, I know you're not them... And, yet..."
Aponia's special connection to the Elysian Realm allowed her to sense the presence of a Herrscher. However, that didn't mean she knew it was you until you stepped in front of her with the same smile as your predecessor, the same pair of (Eye/Color) orbs gleaming with life, your (Hair/Length) (Hair/Color) hair â everything was the same.
Aponia is normally quiet and her emotions are still like the seas on a windless day, but when you speak with her, you can see straight through her without trouble. Whenever she is around you, she is reminded of the endearing child she once looked after and tries both metaphorically and literally get closer to you, and is heartbroken when you back away.
Eventually, Aponia accepts that you're your own person and stops trying to relive the past through you. However, that doesn't stop the occasion pats on the head that you accept and lingering sorrowful gazes she unknowingly sends your way when you speak with the other Flame-chasers. To humanity, they defeated a Herrscher that day, but to her, she lost her child.
"'Why do I keep following you?' I...am unsure of how to answer that. I know you are your own person. And, yet, I cannot help but make sure you are safe at all times. Perhaps, I wish to take responsibility for that fateful day..."
Eden [IV] - Gold
"Either the Elysian Realm is malfunctioning, or someone installed an update that allows us to hallucinate..." The empty chuckle escaping Eden echoed across the lounge and left a wave of discomfort to wash over you.
Contrary to what Raven and Owl told you beforehand, Eden is far from the elegant idol you were led to believe and more akin to a rambling drunk, but something told you that was in part thanks to you.
Whenever you entered her domain, you always happened upon Eden taking a sip of her wine as she stared off into the distance with a foggy look in her eyes. You weren't sure how a simulation could get tipsy, but that didn't make the sight of her drunk sobs and intoxicated murmurs any less comfortable to sit through.
Eden's unhealthy addiction eases over time and she apologizes for her "unprofessional" showings. She starts to show more of that side that your co-workers mentioned and you begin to see glimpses of the revered, gentle, beloved songstress of the Previous Era. However, no matter how much she tries to hide it, you can still see lingering fragments of sorrow behind her gaze whenever you locked eyes with her.
"I know it is unfair of me to ask this, but... May I ask of you to sing a song with me? It's... the only regret I refused to leave in the Previous Era... You will? Oh, thank you for indulging in this troublesome relic's request."
Vill-V [V] - Helix
"Behold! The brand-new and perfected Kevin Killer Mk. 2000! You should feel honored, Herrscher of the Current Era! For this technology and level of ingenuity has never... never... Y-You... Why are you here?"
The whispers surrounding the holder of the Helix signet told you volumes of her flamboyancy and her domain certainly lived up to your expectations. Vill-V, on the other hand, did not.
From the other Flame-chasers, you've learned about her multiple personalities and the drastic differences between them. Yet, whenever you tried to strike up a conversation with her, you are only met with sadness and a reluctance to converse.
It takes a lot of effort on your end, but eventually the talk you share with her last longer than a few words. They turn to 5 words, 6, words, 7 words, 8 words, then a sentence, several sentences, and before long, you could finally hold a entire conversation with her. After that, it didn't take long for her to show her true self (or selves, in this case) and you two quickly became quick friends, much to both Kevin's annoyance (and slight relief).
"Attention everyone! The greatest magician of all time is here with her new assistant! Prepare to be awed by our spectacular performance!"
Kalpas [VI] - Decimation
"...Are you a trick of the Honkai? Or, are you here just to anger me with your face?"
Kalpas isn't like the others. He knows that the PE (Your/Name) is long dead and the one in front of him now is someone else entirely. However, despite knowing this, the anger burning in his chest whenever his gaze lands on you, forcing him to remember that day, eats away at him without mercy.
Kalpas tries to avoid you whenever possible and you do the same to him, leaving him feeling an odd mixture of both contentedness and annoyance. While you are preoccupied with the trials of the other Flame-chasers, he watches you from afar, along with Sakura.
Even when every data of his simulation fully recognizes you as a Herrscher of the Current Era, it doesn't stop him from falling into the same trap the others were ensnared in: He still saw shadows of the previous (Your/Name) in you.
"...Your technique is too flashy. If I hadn't stepped in, you would have been injured. Go in for the kill next time... Huh? You think I've been watching you this entire time? Don't be absurd. Why would I do that? You trying to pick a fight?!"
And, that was the events that led up to Kalpas being placed in the "naughty boys and girls corner" by Kevin, Elysia, Aponia, and Sakura.
Su [VII] - Bodhi
"...Hm? You... I see... Have you been trapped in this samsara of tragedy, (Your/Name)?"
Su is difficult to read, whether it was intentional on his end or not. A part of you believes that he feels a little melancholic when he "sees" you while the other half wonders if he shared the same relationship to your previous self like his fellow MANTIS.
Su spends much of his time meditating, making it difficult to approach him. He is usually the one who initiates the conversation, which usually ends with you having to sit down to listen to his 3-hour-long spiels.
It is only through Elysia's tutorage, you slowly learn how to read the enlightened individual and realize he does care. It is also through Elysia that you tragically learn Su was the doctor who extensively tried everything he could to save your predecessor, only to end up being the only one there to hold their hand as they passed away.
"...(Your/Name)? Is there something you need- Oh." Su was taken aback when you hugged him out of the blue and didn't quite understand until you whispered a soft, "Thank you for trying until the very end." "...Thank you."
Sakura [VIII] - Setsuna
"A Herrscher? Wait, no. You're..."
After your predecessor's death, the real Sakura never synced with her simulation, leaving the latter blissfully unaware of the tragic fate that befell the PE (Your/Name). When she learns the truth, Sakura is distraught and in shambles. Thankfully, your presence and words are a tremendous help in her recovery, and it doesn't take long for her to bounce back and pick up the pieces on the ground.
Sakura is a gentle, loving soul and frequently goes out of her way to make your stay at the Elysian Realm is the best it can be, which meant she will usually butt heads with Kalpas to a certain extent and Mobius.
Much like Kalpas, Sakura watches over you from afar as you effortlessly cleave through the hordes of Honkai beasts standing in your way. And, also like with Kalpas, there's a small iota of older sibling's pride blooming in her chest when she sees your strength.
"Even though you're not the (your/Name) I knew, I can't help but feel content with knowing you've grown into a capable warrior... I... I only wish Rin was here to see you too."
Kosma [IX] and Griseo [XI] - Daybreak and Stars
"(Y-Your/Name)?" Kosma muttered, his harmonica falling to the floor as so did Griseo's brush.
By now, you believed you were more than accustomed to the reactions of the Flame-chasers upon seeing your face. Soon, you were proven wrong when you felt Griseo's little arms try to wrap around your waist as she bawled loudly while Kosma held back, instead choosing to gawk at you from afar.
Every moment you spent in the Elysian Realm from that point onward was with Griseo and Kosma trailing behind you like two baby ducklings following their mother, which you didn't mind. Of course, everyone knew they were thousands of years older than you, but that didn't stop the giggles and laughs from the onlookers.
The painting world Griseo frequented was vibrant and humming with life whenever you visited and the tunes coming from Kosma's harmonica sounded more cheerful as he listened to you paint together.
"...Stay safe."
"Come over again tomorrow...please."
Mobius [X] - Infinity
"Hmph. When I saw Elysia disable herself for an entire day, I knew something was wrong."
Much like Kalpas, Mobius knows you're not the PE (Your/Name) and isn't so welcoming like the other Flame-chasers, so expect to be met with hostility and venom as she lives up to the Honkai beast she infused herself with.
The portals leading to her domain are extremely rare to come across, which, to her annoyance, meant you would take it every time to visit her laboratory. Her dislike for you is crystal clear but your curiosity for how she felt about your predecessor spurred you on to remain by her side.
Mobius does a well enough job to hide her feelings and it takes you a longer time to decipher her true feelings. It is only thanks to the pieces of information you gathered from conversations with the other Flame-chasers and Klein do you finally can say you can began to understand Mobius with confidence.
"Hm? Oh, it's you... 'Do I miss the previous (Your/Name)?' How foolish. What makes you think... Oh, I see now. Klein and others fed you this foolish notion that I missed them, haven't they? If you wish to pass my trials, then you'd best learn to filter out the false lies from the riffraff." Mobius tells you with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, where you can see the tiniest fragments of sadness locked behind the vault of her simulation programming.
Hua [XII] - Vicissitude
"The Honkai... It has already taken so much from me, including the person who shares the same face as you. Tell me, or you an enemy or a friend?"
Hua tries to put up a tough exterior, but the cracks of her mask make themselves known before she could even finish her question as you slowly bring her into a small hug like you did with Su.
There were some moments that Hua chose to forget via Fenghuang Down but the moments she spent with the PE (Your/Name), from the first meeting to their death, remained with her all these years. Therefore, it is imperative to let her take her time in getting used to seeing your face again.
Back in the Previous Era, besides the other Flame-chasers, Hua wasn't too experienced with making friends and that made your friendship all the more special to her. Hua follows you around the Elysian Realm like with Kosma and Griseo, but unlike them, knows when to give you space, specifically when you underwent a trial.
Hua is ashamed to admit that she is jealous of the real her once she learns that she is alive thanks to you. She wishes to fly high and experience the fresh air of the Current Era, but doesn't mind listening to your stores and seeing it through your lenses.
"This necklace... It... It belonged to the previous you. I know it is unfair of me to ask this, but... Can I ask you to take care of it for me?"
Pardofelis [XIII] - Reverie
"...Huh? Huh? Huh?! (Your/Name), is that you?! Oh, I knew all these years of throwing coins in the fountain would pay off!"
It takes a lot of effort to get out of the bear hug she ensnared you in but eventually, you manage to sit her down and explain who you were, earning a soft "...Oh."
Surprisingly, she doesn't dwell too long on her mistake and bounces back to her usual happy-go-lucky self. She treats you no different than she would if you were the Previous (Your/Name) while also acknowledging you were your own person which was a nice change of pace.
Purchasing items from her shop still costs you moneyâdon't get it twisted. But, at least they were all between 50% to 100% off, so there's nothing complain about...right?
Pardofelis and, by extension, Can always greet you with a cheerful smile and hug you tightly. It sorta reminded you when you were younger and had look after two of your neighbor's cats. Heck, they even purr when you scratch them under the chin.
"Hey, (Your/Name)! I got some new things in the shop today! Whaddaya say to these bad boys I nabbed from Big Sis Snake's room?...Huh? She's looking for m-me? Uh... A-Actually, I have a favor! Can you return these for me, h-hahaha..."
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