#i remember when i was younger and dreaming about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seumyo · 3 days ago

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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS

A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.

At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.

The problem? The color scheme.

“What’s wrong with red and gold?”

“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”

“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”

He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.

“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”

You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”

“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”

“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.

Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”

You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”

As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.

“Do you remember this?”

He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”

No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.

It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.

You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”

Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.

You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.

“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”

That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.

“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”

“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.’ What kinda cheesy crap was that?”

“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.

It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).

You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”

Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”

“What’s wrong with salad?”

“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”

“Okay, but you’re helping.”

“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”

Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.

Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.

And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.

He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.

The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.

He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.

No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.

He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.

He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.

But still, he waits.

Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.

“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”

“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”

Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.

But you already know that, don’t you?

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sillymommy6969 · 2 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲OOD LUCK, BABE (X’MAS SPECIAL)

Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader

summary: when sophia left for dream academy, she bid you a quick and gut-wrenching goodbye then disappeared from your life. now, two years later, when she’s welcomed home for the holidays, she has mixed feelings when she sees the new boyfriend you’ve brought to meet your family

warnings: nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, angst, mean!sophia, toxicity, jealousy, cheating, dom!sophia, sub!reader, degradation

Y/N always knew Sophia was going to a pop star. She was so passionate about singing, so passionate about performing, she knew her ambition would drive her to success.

The Laforteza’s and the L/N’s were extensions of families. They spent every big holiday together, ever since Y/N and Sophia were babies. Growing up to be best friends, then something more in high-school, it was safe to say the two were closer than they wished they were. It made falling in love easier; hence, it also made the heartbreak just a little harder.

Y/N remembered pacing around Sophia’s room, her chest tight and beads of tears spewing from her eyes as she watched the Filipina pack her suitcase.

“Sophia, please,” Y/N pleaded, “Just stay a little longer.”

Sophia shook her head, her lips pursed together. Her gaze fixed on piling her clothes neatly in the suitcase, refusing to meet the younger’s bloodshot eyes.

“My flight’s early, I don’t have time to stay.”

“I just—I just want you here with me for a little longer. Please, baby, I don’t want you to go.” Y/N begged. She lied, she did want Sophia to go, because it meant she would be taking this big step towards her dream. But the way she was acting like she didn’t mean anything really stung.

Sophia’s arms slumped, her head thrown back with a sigh.

She didn’t want to drag it out—the suffering. She wanted to rip this bandaid off as quick as possible because she knew Y/N would never recover otherwise.

“I think you need to go home,” Sophia said, “Now.”

Y/N’s lips pursed into a pout, her hands shaking and her glossed eyes glaring at Sophia. Even in her attempts to look resentful, like she absolutely hated Sophia for gutting her with such heartless comments, she couldn’t.

Sophia could still see the glaring signs of adoration. Of love.

But she wouldn’t budge, and Y/N left. Sophia would leave for two years, solidifying her place in Katseye, without saying goodbye. And after about a year, Sophia found herself thinking back on the way she’d left things whenever she was left alone wallowing in her thoughts in silence.

On Christmas Eve, Sophia’s hot breath fogged in the crisp December air as she stepped out of her car. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the familiar smell of pine and firewood kissing her senses. After two years away, everything still looked the same—her childhood home nestled at the end of cup-de-sac, the warm glow of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations twinkling in the windows and the roof.

And yet, everything felt different.

The last time Sophia stood here, her dreams had been too big for this little town. She’d rushed her best friend, her love then out the door and shut her out. She bid her a quick goodbye, but they both knew it was a goodbye that carried the weight of finality. Life at Dream Academy swallowed her whole, and she had the benefit of not having time to think about the state of heartbreak she had left Y/N in. The gruelling, seemingly endless rehearsals, competitions, and performances leaving little room for texts or calls with anybody.

Now, standing in the same driveway, she felt a pang of guilt. Y/N deserved more than the silence Sophia had given her.

The door swung open, and Sophia was greeted by her dad beaming back from the other side of the doorway. “Sophia, you made it!”

“Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight hug. Inside, the chatter of familiar voices inside reached her ears, and she braced herself for the reunion she both longed for yet dreaded. “Sorry I’m late, traffic from the airport was horrible.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby, I’m just glad you made it. Come in, come in! Your mother’s just setting the table, but everybody else will be so happy to see you.”

The house was bustling, with the scent of cinnamon and roasted turkey filling the air. Sophia greeted family members, greeting the children of her aunts and uncles. Y/N’s dad was by the fireplace, sharing a laugh with her own. It was a tradition for their families to spend the holidays together, a bond forged over decades of friendship.

When he spot Sophia, he stood, his arms wide open.

“Oh, Sophia! It’s been a while. How are you, my dear?”

She was like a second daughter to him, but a huge surge of guilt swirled in her stomach when she saw just how happy he was to see her. It made her think about how heartbroken she had left Y/N. It also made her wonder if their parents knew about their relationships—how they ended things.

“I’m—I’m good. I’m glad to be back.” She smiled politely.

“It’s great to see you, Sophia. Really. Have you seen Y/N yet? She’ll absolutely go crazy when she sees you.”

Sophia pursed her lips together. “No, not yet.”

“Well, she should be just around here—!”

And then she saw her. Y/N stood near the kitchen, her smile as radiant as ever. But it wasn’t just her.

Sophia’s heart dropped.

Next to Y/N stood a guy, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. He was tall, with an easy charm and a laugh that seemed to fit perfectly into the room. He had defined features, shaggy dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. He looked like the boys Y/N used to date before Sophia, the picture perfect type of guy she knew Y/N’s parents wanted. Sophia’s chest tightened as she watched him lean in, whispering something that made Y/N’s cheeks flush.

From across the room, Y/N caught Sophia’s dumbstruck gaze. Her own eyes widened, taking in the majestic sight of the Filipina standing amidst her family again. In a way, she looked like she was back where she belonged, but somehow still managed to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Sophia,” Y/N gasped, breaking Sophia’s trance. She crossed the room with a wide smile, pulling her into a hug. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Sophia managed, her voice catching. Her arms hesitantly hooked around Y/N’s tinier frame, a hand sliding to give her a quick squeeze. She wanted to say more, to explain her silence, but the words stifled in her throat.

A cleared throat interrupted their moment.

Y/N stepped back, her hand slipping into the man’s behind her. His hand casually slid to palm her hip, tugging her towards him in a possessive manner. Sophia felt like gagging at the sight, but she somehow struggled to look away. “Sophia, this is Matt. My, uh… my boyfriend.”

Matt extended a hand, his grin warm and genuine. “Matt Sturniolo. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Sophia replied, her voice steady even as her stomach churned. All that training put into putting up an act for work seemed to be paying off.

“You’re… Godfrey’s daughter?” he asked, receiving a quick nod and tight-lipped smile from the Filipina. “How do you two know each other?”

Sophia eyed Y/N, not sure which explanation she wanted to say; “We used to date until I had to leave the country to chase my dream” or “I used to fuck your girlfriend behind the backs of guys like you.”

“Uh, well, Sophia and I grew up together. Uncle Godfrey and Dad are really close.” Y/N explained, a hand on Matt’s chest as the man nodded. “We were best friends.”

His fingers smoothed out the creases in her dress over her ass, clutching her close to him like a trophy.

Sophia wanted to punch his lights out.

“How have you been? How’s life in LA?” Y/N asked, her eyes holding Sophia’s gaze. Her face still held the same sincerity, the same kindness Sophia took advantage of two years ago.

The Filipina nodded, “Good. It’s going good so far.”

The younger smiled, her bottom lip tugging in between her teeth. “That’s nice to hear. Your folks missed you a lot. They have me over more just to have a voice around here.”

Speaking of her folks, her mother appeared in the doorway between the vast living room and the kitchen. When she spotted her daughter conversing with Y/N, she let out a loud sigh. Her arms waved above her head, jogging over to tackle the singer in a hug. Sophia laughed, hugging her mother as the older woman squealed in excitement.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, baby, you’re here! And you both are together again, ugh.” She clutched her heart, glancing between the two of them. “I’ve prayed for this day.” She kissed Sophia’s head, before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, sweetheart, will you please come help me with the cookies? I would ask Sophia, but y’know her, Ms. Clutz. I trust you around not things more than I do her.”

The Filipino clicked her tongue. “Rude.”

“And I see you’ve met Matt.” The man shot the mother a smile. She sighed, a hand squeezing Sophia’s arm. “Isn’t he just the most perfect boy you’ve ever met? I hope you find a boy just like him in the future, mahal.”

Nobody else seemed to notice, but Y/N caught the way Sophia’s guarded expression faltered just the slightest before that poker face of hers masked her true thoughts. She was never once to go against what her parents wanted, but what her parents wanted always seemed to be her getting married to a man and having grandchildren. Even then, Sophia knew the only person who truly understood her passion, the love she had for music and performing was Y/N.

But now she was too busy ogling Matt Sturniolo.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. L.” Her hand slid down from Matt’s chest, squeezing his hand briefly before she left with Sophia’s mother, arm laced around hers.

Awkward silence engulfed the two of them.

“So…” Matt began, “Heard you’re a pretty big star.”

Sophia hummed, shrugging. “Yeah, my bandmates and I work really hard. But there’s always room for improvement.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Sturniolo nodded, “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, but I’ve heard about you and Y/N before you left and I just wanna say, she practically worships you.”

Sophia felt her heart begin racing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve only ever heard her talk about you once or twice, but… she loves you. A lot. You’re like the person she admires most.” Matt chuckled, “When we started dating, she had this notification on her phone to alert her whenever your band would put something new out. She stopped a couple months in, but she definitely still tries to keep up.”

Sophia hadn’t realized Y/N would know things about her and Katseye. It made her feel quite… exposed.

Yet, it felt freeing, to know somebody from her past cared.

And of all people, it made her feel guilty it was her.

“Really?” Sophia feigned happiness, “That’s… really sweet.”

“Anyway, you looking for a drink? There might be some beer or wine at the bar.”

Matt offered to go grab them some drinks, as if he was the host and she was the guest. It didn’t feel like her home anymore, watching the man work his way around her house, standing beside Y/N, hanging off her arm almost felt like he was replacing her in a way. Two years ago, she was in his place; she was the one pouring the greeting guests with drinks on Christmas eve, she was the one with her arm around Y/N, whispering things in her ear that made her laugh.

Now, it was all Matt Sturniolo this, Matt Sturniolo that.

Walking past the doorway to the kitchen, Sophia’s ears picked up on a familiar sound. A light, heavenly laughter that eased into the gentle crackling fire and faint Christmas jazz.

She saw her mother telling a story about some funny encounter she experienced that day, her hands focused on decorating the cookies on the tray. Beside her stood Y/N, in her element, a hand over her mouth as she tried containing that contagious laughter. One side of her hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes curved and soft and her smile grew.

She looked so beautiful. Fuck, how could somebody look so beautiful doing nothing?

Feeling her chest tighten, a tap on her shoulder shook her from her daze. Spinning on her heel, she was met with Matt holding up two bottles of beers.

“Woah, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sophia sighed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. “Hey, Matt, can I ask you a weird question?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“How long have you and Y/N been… dating?”

He pondered a moment. “Coming on two years, why?”

“And has Y/N ever told you about her exes or…?”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. It’s a touchy subject. I just know the last guy she dated absolutely shattered her.”

Sophia wondered if Y/N was telling people her ex was a man, or if she just never corrected what people automatically assumed of her. Whichever one, it soured her mood.

“How long has it been since you’ve talked to Y/N?”

The question caught Sophia off guard. “Hm?”

“You and Y/N. You’re supposed to be best friends, right? But you two seem a little… distant. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not my place to say, but you guys don’t exactly give besties.”

For the rest of the evening, Sophia tried to focus on the conversations, the laughter, the shared stories of the past two years. But her eyes kept drifting to Y/N and Matt. The way he looked at her, the way she leaned into him—it was everything Sophia missed about her.

The evening wore on, and soon the house grew quieter.

It was easier to distract herself when she was bombarded with questions from relatives about her career. Eventually, Sophia stepped out onto the porch, the cold air biting her skin as she tried to clear her thoughts. She walked down the stairs to their backyard, taking a seat by their pool. She took her shoes off, dipping her feet into the lukewarm water.

“Thought you’d be out here.”

She turned to find Y/N standing behind her, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. The sheer long sleeve she was wearing definitely gave her no sense of warmth, especially not in the skirt she was wearing.

“Yeah,” Sophia mumbled, looking out at the snow-covered yard. “Just needed some air.”

Y/N reluctantly took a seat beside Sophia, who refused to look at her. She shook her Uggs off, feet sinking underwater as well.

“This is bringing me back,” Y/N chuckled, “To when we would just sit out here and we’d fall asleep after a late night dip.”

Sophia didn’t reply, just savouring the sound of her laugh. She didn’t realize just how much she missed hearing it until she heard it again. She don’t know what to say, she didn’t know if it would be appropriate for her to say anything.

“Did you miss me?” or “Do you hate me?”; no, “I’m sorry.”

Instead, Sophia opted for a passive statement. Her ego shielding her from seeing her true attitude.

“That boyfriend of yours seems nice.”

Y/N cradled herself, her hands slowing at rubbing her arms for warmth. Her gaze fixed on the Christmas lights dangling from the roof. It had been the second time tonight she’s left Matt to fend for himself in a room full of people he didn’t know. If they were anywhere else, she would feel bad; but, sitting here, just feeling Sophia’s presence after such a long time, Matt seemed to be the last place her mind was hung on.

“Yeah. He’s a sweet guy.”

Sophia rolled her eyes at the soft edge in Y/N’s voice.

The muffled sounds of the dinner party inside drowned in the sounds of their feet swishing water around.

“Hm, he looks exactly like the assholes you used to date,” the Filipina snarkily remarked, “Just your type.”

There she was, the mean Sophia that left and didn’t look back.

“He treats me well. And he loves me.”

“Yeah? Bet he loves sticking his dick in you more.”

Y/N’s shoulders stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sophia leaned back on her hands, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Y/N. You really don’t see it? He’s so… basic. Does he even know what you like? How to turn you on—?”

“That’s enough, Sophia.” Y/N’s voice wavered, but her eyes stayed steady.

Sophia leaned forward, her expression softening for a moment. “I’m just saying… it doesn’t seem like he’s what you need. Your taste got better, but now it just kinda plummeted again.”

Y/N stood abruptly, water flicking at Sophia as she grappled at her shoes. “Y’know what? I’m glad to see fame hasn’t changed that nasty attitude of yours. I was trying to be nice, put it all behind me because I missed you and I wanted to at least be friends again, but clearly I was wrong to think you would’ve matured at least the tiniest bit.” She shook her head, scoffing. “You don’t get to sit there and insult someone you don’t even know.” Her voice shook with anger. “Matt’s nothing like the guys I used to date, and he’s certainly nothing like you. He was the one there for me when you weren’t.”

Sophia blinked, her cool demeanor slipping. “When I wasn’t?”

“Yes, when you weren’t.” Y/N’s voice cracked as she stared down at Sophia, the memories bubbling to the surface. “When you fucking just—tossed me aside when you had a chance at your career, your dreams. And then you didn’t even have the decency to give me a reason why you were being such a jerk about it. I tried calling so many times after you left, I stay up late at night just thinking about you, crying myself to sleep. So no, you don’t get to waltz back into my life, insult Matt, and act like you know me. You don’t know me anymore.”

Sophia’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with guilt and something deeper. Her own feet pulled out the pool as she propped herself up. “Y/N, I—”

“No.” Y/N’s stammered, still shivering from the cold. “I’ve given so much of my time and myself to you and your stupid fucking games. This—” she gestured to Sophia, her tone full of frustration— “this is exactly why I stopped trying to call you. Why I decided I needed to move on.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and unbearable.

Watching the way Y/N shook, Sophia wasn’t sure whether she was shivering from the cold or from the sheer force of finally letting her emotions loose. The younger woman had never been one to argue, never been one to confront. She was always Sophia’s obedient little plaything, just the way she liked it. But seeing her like this, standing her ground, staring the monster terrorizing her life—her every breath and thought—straight in the eye was so… comforting.

She had grown, something Sophia should have done.

Shrugging her jacket off, the Filipina draped it over Y/N’s shoulders, despite the younger’s groans of protest.

“Is that what you call this?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was low, almost trembling. “Being with someone so... safe, so easy? Someone your parents want as an in-law?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Sophia came closer, the familiar scent of her perfume making her heart ache.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sophia was inches away now, her gaze searching Y/N’s face. “Don’t I?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Y/N could respond, Sophia’s hand brushed against her cheek, tentative but electrifying. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said softly. “And maybe I deserve all of this—the anger, the blame. But don’t pretend he makes you feel the way I do.”

“Don’t.” Y/N whimpered, her tone less convincing than the way her body language was giving her away.

Instinctively, she needed to draw Sophia close, her body leaning towards the magnetic pull from the Filipina’s hands.

“He’s a fucking cuck and you know it.”

“I love him.” Y/N muttered.

“And I love you,” Sophia whispered back, leaning in to gently press her lips against Y/N’s, the kiss igniting every suppressed feeling she’d buried. It was reckless, infuriating, and utterly terrifying impossible to resist.

Y/N moaned against her glossed lips. Her own hands fighting Sophia’s off before they reached any further up her skirt. “Sophia, somebody will see.”

“Meet me upstairs then.” Sophia stole a quick kiss again, “Where nobody can see.”

The Filipina securely fastened her coat over the shorter’s shoulders, her hot breath thawing Y/N’s cool cheeks. She leant down slow, torturously pecking the corner of her lips, before glancing up at the woman’s eyes, then down again.

“Don’t make me wait.”

When Y/N stepped back into the house a couple minutes after Sophia did, she was immediately approached by Matt, who had a beer bottle clutched in his hand.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve had to listen to your uncle talk about drag racing the past twenty minutes.” He snorted, “Woah, your cheeks are all pink… is that Sophia’s jacket?”

Y/N felt bad, lying to him.

Deep down, she knew she still had very intense feelings for Sophia. The same feeling she felt when Sophia left her, when Sophia told her to leave her house like she was some stranger, when Sophia was all smiles and super happy in every photo taken of her after she had successfully debuted as Katseye’s leader. Somehow, despite Matt being the safe and better option, she would rather be used, be drained dry of whatever she had to give and discarded than be with him if it meant she got to feel what it was like to be Sophia’s girl again.

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh—I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh. Do you wanna go home? I’ll get the car.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling the man’s hand rub her arm soothingly. She gently brushed him off, giving him one last look before heading towards the stairs.

There was no turning back now.

Quietly, she crept upstairs, walking past the hung portraits of Sophia and her family, some of which Y/N appeared in.

When she finally got to the door with a customized plaque with sticker letters spelling out “Sophia”, she knocked softly. Nearly immediately, the door flung open and she was yanked in. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was thrusted against the surface. The sound reverberated in the small space. It was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, casting shadows on the walls lined with posters and old photos of the two of them.

Y/N barely had time to take it all in before Sophia’s lips were on hers again, desperate and full of unspoken apologies. Her body pushed Y/N’s against the door, the younger’s hands threading into her hair as if she were afraid she might disappear again.

“You drive me insane,” Sophia murmured against her lips, her voice low and rough. Her hands slid down Y/N’s sides, gripping her hips like she was anchoring herself. “I’ve missed this.”

“Sophia,” Y/N interrupted, her breath hitching as Sophia’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Sophia pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.

“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes dark. “Let’s see if you’re saying the same thing after I fuck you senseless.”

Y/N’s felt heat pool straight down to between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Sophia closer, her fingers tangling in the loose fabric of her shirt. “You’re such a fucking prick,” she whispered, the words a mixture of accusation and longing. “Still just as cocky.”

“You love it,” Sophia said again, her lips trailing wet kisses down her neck. “Y’know you love me.”

Something in her tone shattered Y/N’s remaining defenses. She pulled Sophia into another kiss, this one fiercer, fueled by a newfound hunger she had to engulf her senses in Sophia. They stumbled toward the bed, their limbs entangled. Sophia’s hands were everywhere, sliding under Y/N’s shirt and hiking her skirt up higher until the band of her black lace showed. Y/N gasped as Sophia’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, her knees buckling as they fell onto the mattress together.

Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the space between them disappearing as if it had never existed. Sophia’s touch was both familiar and foreign, reigniting sensations Y/N had tried to forget. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a plea for forgiveness—a desperate attempt to make up for all the time they’d lost.

Y/N arched into Sophia’s touch, her breaths coming in short, shaky gasps as Sophia’s lips moved lower, exploring every inch of skin like she was memorizing it. The heat between them was almost unbearable, the air thick with the scent of desire and the faint perfume Sophia always wore.

“Sophia,” Y/N moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as Sophia’s mouth worked its way down her body.

Sophia’s lips hovered just above Y/N’s skin. She looked up, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. “Eyes on me, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending vibrations straight through Y/N. “I wanna see that pretty face when you cum”

Y/N eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as she breathily gasped at Sophia’s tongue hitting just the right spot. “I hate you for leaving,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Fuck, I hate you so much.”

The confession broke something in Sophia, and she surged forward, eating Y/N out with a desperation that felt like it could consume them both. Her hands locked into Y/N’s thighs with her legs thrown over her shoulders. When the younger’s breath grew erratic, she knew she was close. And with a pitched gasp, Sophia’s tongue lapped up whatever had gushed from Y/N.

For a couple minutes, they just laid side by side on Sophia’s bed, catching their breaths before Y/N propped herself up, picking up her discarded clothing off the floor.

She slipped them on, back facing a confused Sophia who watched her movements with a tilted head.

“Heading back downstairs,” Y/N stated flatly, “Matt’s probably waiting for me to head home.”

Sophia scoffed, “Are you fucking serious? I just had you cumming on my tongue and you’re going back down to him?”

“Yes, Sophia.” Y/N’s eyes shut, sighing. “Maybe now you’ll know what it feels like to watch someone leave without a goodbye.” She flung the door open to the bustling liveliness of festivities downstairs, disappearing down the hall.

Sophia lied in her bed, a hand through her hair. She scoffed.

If it’s a game Y/N wants to play, it’s a game she’ll play.

#katseye x reader #katseye #sophia laforteza x reader #sophia laforteza #daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #lara raj #lara raj x reader #manon bannerman #manon bannerman x reader #megan skiendiel #megan skiendiel x reader #yoonchae

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irndad · 2 days ago

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Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here.

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it.

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit.

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him.

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights.

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time.

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones.

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to.

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her.

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure.

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister.

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst.

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment.

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun.

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.”

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it.

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months.

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.”

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it.

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch.

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was.

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie.

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once.

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party.

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!”

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind.

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion.

She looks happy.

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist.

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her.

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously.

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant.

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there.

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late.

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