#man I have been looking forward to writing this nonsense all day and it was a good time

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (we're getting there, dw), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), it's time to meet the bakusquad!, mentions of alcohol, a tiny ass mention of smth nsfw

words. 4.3k (this is getting out of hand. this was way too fun to write, tho!)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7, part 8, part 9

You check your reflection through your phone’s front camera for the umpteenth time, lurching a bit forward and almost smashing your face with the device when the bus you’re riding drives over a bump.

With a sigh, you glance through the window to your right, spotting the familiar landmark that Kirishima mentioned in passing a few days ago.

A few days ago when he waltzed into the conference room in the middle of your heated conversation with Bakugou.

Right when he dropped that nonsensical one-liner, Bakugou was on him in a flash, shoving your other boss so hard that the man stumbled a few steps back in surprise. You watched as they had what seemed to be a wordless exchange, before all the blood appeared to drain from Kirishima’s face, leaving him so pale that you thought the redhead was about to pass out any second.

“Freaking finally—” you recall Kirishima repeating, voice wobbly, “Y-you finally have a g-girlfriend!”

Bakugou didn’t seem too pleased at the shade, encasing his co-founder in a headlock, eventually releasing him after the latter cried out his pleas and apology.

After the man managed to catch his breath, he came up with the suggestion that you hang out with the rest of their friend group.

“It’ll be fun!” he said. “We’d love to get to know you.”

“Tch.” Bakugou merely replied, seemingly not too keen on the idea.

“I don’t know…”

“I can ask PR about it,” Kirishima ignored you, “I bet you being seen with us is good for your image!”

Which leads you to the present moment.

The mechanical voice announces your arrival at the nearest station to the trendy, new, upscale restaurant that Mina specifically picked out for today’s get-together. Kirishima assured you when you, again, showed reluctance when he ran down the details yesterday, saying Kaminari and Sero vouched for it, that it had a built-in arcade or something.

Deep in your thoughts and on autopilot, you hop off the bus and begin your slow but steady trek toward the venue. By the time you reach it, it’s already 6:37 PM, a bit later than your agreed-upon meeting time.

Pushing the glass doors open, you enter the space and swiftly scan the area. Bakugou’s friends, who you just remember also happened to be top pro-heroes, are already packed in a booth near the back of the restaurant. As you walk towards them, you see that Mina, Kirishima, and Sero are seated beside each other while Kaminari is looking a bit lonely on the extra chair at the tail-end of the table. You’re guessing the empty seats in front of the aforementioned three have been reserved for their close friend and you, the fake girlfriend.

Right, you say to yourself. Time to put on a show.

Kirishima is the first one to spot you, and you can’t help the squeeze your heart makes as he visibly brightens up when he does. “Bro, over here!”

At that, you plaster on the friendliest smile you can muster and trudge towards where they are.

“Sorry I’m late, you guys,” you say as you slide into your seat, “I had to call an emergency meeting at work. I came as fast as I could…”

You look at the three, (not really) new faces (because you see them on TV all the time), suddenly feeling nervous and singled out.

Desperate for something familiar to have near you, you ask: “Uh, where’s Bakugou?”

The moment you stutter the question out, you find yourself immediately wanting to take it back, because the air in the room suddenly changes. Sero smirks, Kaminari guffaws, and a devilish grin exponentially grows on Mina’s face.

“Awww, it hasn’t even been ten seconds since you got here and you’re already looking for your mans!” Mina winks at you, “He’s just in the restroom.”

“Bro, it’s about goddamn time Bakugou finally got a girlfriend,” Sero adds.

The girl nods enthusiastically in agreement, “It’s been a long time coming, indeed. Do you have any idea how long he’s been pining for you?”

Negative thirteen days, you think to yourself. But you settle for a hesitant shake of your head.

“Dudes—” Kirishima tries to interject, although his voice is drowned out in the chatter and the marginally too-loud pop music playing in the background.

Sero snorts, “She probably doesn’t, knowing Bakugou. Though—” a look of pure mischief takes over the tape hero’s face as he turns to face you, “—wouldn’t you want to know?”

“I, uh—”

“Remember the first time Bakugou got a text message from her when we were out getting drinks for Ei’s birthday two years ago?” Mina asks the guys, although the question seems more rhetorical than not. “He choked on his beer so hard I was surprised he didn’t cough his freaking lungs out.”

“Mina—” Kirishima tries again.

Sero barks out a laugh at the memory, “That’s nothing compared to when he got so red in the face when I first insinuated he might have a crush that one time he helped me move into my current place. The big guy didn’t even think twice about hurling a box of clothes at me.”

“Sero—”

“Please!” Kaminari finally pipes in, before gesturing the group to get close with a cheesy, ‘come-wither’ gesture. From the corner of your eye, you see Kirishima mouthing something to the blonde but you don’t quite catch it, eyes drifting back to the latter, more curious than you’d like to admit, even if you’re 99% sure they’re making all of this up to humor you.

The electric hero smirks to himself before prolonging the suspenseful air. “Don’t tell him this, but I sneaked into his bedroom during that sleepover we forced him to host during Thanksgiving last year, supposedly to play a harmless prank on him. And get this—I heard him mumble your name in his sleep.”

“Guys!”

Startled, everyone looks at Kirishima, who’s doing the ‘slicing his neck with his hand’ gesture before sheepishly bringing it to rub at his nape when he feels the group’s attention on him. You scan their faces one by one, not knowing how to react yourself, and you notice what you think is realization dawn on everyone’s faces.

Well, everyone except Kaminari.

You look at the guy who’s apparently been looking at you this entire time, and your reaction to his made-up, albeit intriguing story must be priceless because he puffs up with pride before blurting out: “And it sounded like a moan, too!”

Before you can even choke at your spit in response, you see Sero’s long arm appear behind the blonde a split second before he smacks him on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Kaminari cries out, clutching his head in pain, and you can only stare at the situation in front of you, bug-eyed. “What was that for?!”

“That’s for not knowing when to shut up,” Sero hisses, before shifting to face you, a blinding smile now having replaced the chastising look that was on his face just a brief moment ago. “Now, where were we?”

“Aren’t you shitheads going to order?”

You jump at the gruff voice on your left, and you look up to see Bakugou, decked out in his usual black tee and joggers, frowning at you before his eyes dart to study his friends. Wordlessly, he slides into the booth beside you, and you automatically scoot over to make room for him. Suddenly it makes sense to you why his friends designated this entire side to only the two of you—you sometimes forget that their grumpy friend is abnormally huge—a fact that you get reminded of as he brings his arm around to rest on top of the back of your seat, his wingspan covering almost the entire length of it.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to gather their bearings and faithfully decide that no, he probably didn’t hear all of that—he couldn’t, if they wanted to keep their heads attached to the rest of their bodies—but when they do, they all scramble for the menus and act too innocently like they weren’t just making ridiculous shit up behind Bakugou’s back.

You give the man a hesitant smile yourself when he peers at you, before simply passing you the menu Kirishima handed over your direction.

“Hurry up and choose,” he huffs, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “We ain’t got all day.”

Since your boss arrived at your table, the squad hasn’t said a single thing about Bakugou from the past, particularly stories involving you, which further supports your robust theory that they were just trying to embarrass the guy in front of his alleged girlfriend.

No one brings up what has been said, too, and you take that as your cue to follow suit and keep your mouth shut.

Instead, and to your chagrin, they’ve resorted to buzzing around you, asking all sorts of questions about your life like how long you’ve been working at Bakugou and Kirishima’s agency, what kind of work you do, what you like to do for fun, how many siblings you have, and so on. But they’ve especially enjoyed asking you about Bakugou and your budding relationship, dropping a teasing remark or joke every now and then.

Every now and then as in every other sentence.

You’ve been trying to play it off cooly, lying out of your ass while seeming as natural as you can, but Bakugou isn’t taking it as well as you.

Apparently, and you know now, that the man detests being teased—it’s almost comical how red he gets at the slightest taunt, and you failing to repress a chuckle at the sight nearly grants you a shove from the hotheaded blonde. You look at the sole other girl for help, but Mina only grins at you while wiggling her eyebrows playfully as she sits back to witness the exchange.

But aside from all that, you find yourself quickly bringing down your guard and joining in on the conversation every once in a while, eventually coming to the realization that you’re actually having fun.

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that Bakugou’s friends are great people, and seeing the man in a different environment than the one you usually find him in is interesting, to say the least.

In the midst of great conversation and in the blink of an eye, dinner is served and devoured, and before you know it, it’s 9 PM and everyone except Bakugou and you are around two to three drinks in.

“Come on, man!” Kaminari thrusts a glass of whiskey in Bakugou’s direction. “Let loose a little!”

The man in question merely lets out a ‘Tch’ before swatting the hero’s hand away.

“Don’t worry about him, bestie,” Mina calls out to you reassuringly, noticing you’ve been watching the two as you sipped on your own iced tea. “He just gets cranky when he’s not in bed by 9 PM sharp.”

“How ‘bout you, bro?” Kirishima asks you, this time a glass of gin and tonic in hand. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

You muster the most polite and grateful smile you can. “No thanks, Kirishima-san. I kind of have plans early tomorrow morning.”

Yeah, right, you think to yourself. You just don’t want to risk making a fool of yourself in front of your two bosses and their closest friends.

“Ooooh, is that why Bakugou isn’t drinking as well?” Mina chirps excitedly, “Are you guys doing something tomorrow?”

“Uh, no,” you say, hesitant and irrationally guilty, which swells when Mina’s face drops in palpable disappointment. You scramble to pull out a palatable lie from your ass, “I’m going out of town to meet a good old friend of mine who just got back from the States.”

A chorus of oohs and aahs erupt from the table at your answer; luckily, they don’t press for more details, which you’re grateful for, because you’re running out of lies for the evening.

You feel Bakugou eyeing you at the side, as if trying to figure out if what you just said is true when Sero suddenly speaks up, pointing to the far end of the restaurant.

“Hey, they have a photo booth! Whaddya say we give it a go?”

Everyone cheers in agreement and you find yourself getting ushered into the said photo booth. Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina plant themselves on the front while you get smushed between Bakugou and Sero at the back. You try not to let the close proximity with your boss get to you as Mina starts handing out the props, which you readily accept with a thanks. You look down at the ‘I’m awesome’ signage and rainbow-colored wig you’re holding, weighing your options, before ultimately deciding to make the sacrifice and give Bakugou the former. His crimson eyes trail to you when you tap his shoulder lightly, and down to the sign when you make the gesture of offering it towards him. He wordlessly takes it off your hands, and you can’t help but snort at how out of place he looks with it. He tosses you a glare, although it seems harmless enough.

“Ready?” Mina shouts, and the rest of you say your affirmation. You go through the motions, everyone changing up their poses and swapping props shot after shot, and you find yourself laughing along with the group as the ruckus unfolds around you. After the last click of the camera, you finally move to return the paraphernalia to the front with Bakugou shadowing you, and follow the rest as they hurriedly pile out of the small space when the sliding door suddenly slams shut.

“What the—” you reach for the indented groove and pull it open, but the door refuses to budge.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s booming voice ricochets within the small space, making you jump. “Quit fucking around, you guys.”

A chorus of laughter erupts from the outside, and only then does it dawn on you that you didn’t get locked in because of some stupid gust of wind.

Kaminari, who’s probably the one holding the door shut sounds positively evil when he pipes up with: “You’re not getting out of there until you do a round with just the two of you.”

“Yeah!” Mina adds excitedly. “And y’all better do those cute poses, you hear me? We’re not going home unless you do the classic kiss on the cheek!”

“Just the cheek?” Sero asks, “You should just go all out, Bakugou!”

“This is their idea, bros. I’m not involved here,” you hear Kirishima say in the background.

Oh motherfucking god.

Refusing to accept what’s happening, you try to pry the door open again, but Kaminari’s not letting up by the slightest. You stare at the door, unable to look at Bakugou and what feels like five minutes pass before the man finally speaks up.

“…Let’s just fucking do it.”

You turn around to gape at him, “E-excuse me?”

He sighs, looking as defeated as you’ve ever seen him, a tinge of pink tinting his cheeks in what you think is irritation. “They’re not gonna back down unless we fucking do what they say. Trust me,” he says as he plops down on one of the seats in front of the camera, “I know them.”

Hesitantly, you take the seat to his left, the feeling of resignation blooming in your stomach at his words. “O-okay, then. We can just quickly take the pictures like normal and we’ll be on our way.”

“No—” he starts, and he looks like it pains him to argue with you, “—if we don’t do this as they instructed, the shitheads are just going to make us do it again and again until we do.”

You flush at the implications of his words, “But—what—surely they’ll be reprimanded for hogging the photo booth?”

Bakugou shakes his head, seeming like he’s already surrendered his soul to the antics of his friends. “They don’t normally abuse their power as heroes, but they will for stupid shit like this.”

You can only blink at him, at a loss for words. If you think about it, it’s unnerving how calm and level-headed he’s being right now when you’re getting close to having a major freakout yourself.

“Well?” The man has the audacity to ask.

You shift awkwardly in your seat, choosing to look at the monitor in front of you instead of the pro-hero who you now realize is way too dangerously close for your comfort. “Okay, so the least number of shots we can go for is four.”

Bakugou grunts in what you think is approval.

You continue, “We can do one where we just sit and smile, another where we form a small heart with our hands to appease Mina, and—fuck, two more…”

You expected you’d be the one to do the agonizing task of directing your poses, so you’re surprised when Bakugou chimes in.

“That’s not enough for bug-eyes,” he says as a matter-of-factly, and you find yourself gulping in nervousness despite yourself. “We’ll have to get closer…”

Closer than this?

Bakugou seems like he’s debating something in his head before he gives you a firm nod. “The third one we can place your head on my fucking shoulder or something, and for the last—” he shakes his head in defeat, “just go and fucking kiss me on the cheek.”

“What?”

He shoots you an appalled look as if you jolting away from him at the mere suggestion is a criminal offense committed against him. “Don’t sound so fucking disgusted, idiot.”

You’re not about to tell him you’re the farthest from being disgusted and rather veering dangerously close to flustered. Instead, you croak: “Are you sure about this?”

Bakugou scoffs, “Does it look like we have a choice?” He pauses, before shaking his head rather adamantly, “It’s not like I want to do this…”

You frown, itching to argue that you, in fact, have a choice, but the man is so evidently resigned that any rebuttal dies down in your throat. He does know his friends better than you do. Obviously. You can’t accurately gauge how far they’re willing to go for you just to take these photos with the grump.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you mumble an ‘okay’ before standing to press the Start button.

And so you, once again, go through the motions.

Only this time you’re not laughing.

You can feel your smile straining as you pose for the first photo, and you’re guessing Bakugou is looking like he’s being forced to smile at gunpoint beside you.

Click.

At the tell-tale sound, you lift your left hand, forming half a heart, and bring it next to Bakugou’s right. Beside his, your hand is significantly smaller, and you’re staring at the shape you’ve formed together when the camera goes off again, catching you off guard.

Click.

You’re disoriented and barely registering the pace at which everything’s going when you feel a hand gently tug your head to the right, placing it firmly on top of a firm shoulder.

“Smile, you dumbass,” Bakugou says through gritted teeth. You obey.

Click.

You chance a glance at the man, whose eyes are downcast—staring at the floor. You hesitate, wary of the countdown, “…Can I?”

Bakugou merely closes his eyes in what you think is dreadful anticipation before opening them again, choosing to look straight into the camera instead of meeting your gaze. “Just do it.”

You’re not about to waste any more time and risk missing the timing and having to do this all over again, so you do.

It takes everything in you not to cringe the second your lips touch Bakugou’s cheek, suddenly becoming very aware of how chapped they are. But the thought is almost instantly replaced by the realization of how deceivingly soft his skin is, and you have to fight yourself from jerking away at the ridiculous observation.

The seconds go by so agonizingly slow, and as you wait for the shutter to go off, you notice how tense Bakugou is, whose eyes are now closed again. It occurs to you belatedly how weird it would come out in the photos if you had your eyes wide open this close to the guy, so you immediately slam them shut.

You do it just in time before you hear the all-too-familiar click, at the sound of which you promptly pull away and stand up.

“Great,” you chirp, too cheerily.

“Good,” he grunts at the same time as you.

You look at each other in surprise, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of you. The corners of Bakugou’s mouth twitch ever so minutely, and you could’ve sworn a smile is fighting to take over his lips.

You’re about to say something remotely embarrassing—just anything to fill the air, really—like ‘thanks’ or worse, when the door suddenly opens, startling the both of you.

Mina pokes her head through the small opening, squealing as her eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. “Well, come on, you two! They turned out amazing!”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

It’s about half past 10 when you finally decide as a group that it’s time to wrap things up and go home. Of course, you had to first sit through roughly thirty minutes of Mina gushing on and on about how cute your photos turned out, with Kaminari and Sero at the side teasing Bakugou about how uncharacteristically shy he looks. As you expected, Bakugou turned almost as red as a beet at the teasing, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with the group before getting silenced with a sharp glare from the man.

Despite the plethora of dirty looks he’s tossed your way the entire evening, Bakugou still went out of his way to offer you a ride home as you walked with the group to the exit. You were about to politely decline when you realized everyone else was watching and that it would be weird for you to turn down your boyfriend’s proposal this late into the night.

And so you reluctantly accepted.

Which is how you find yourself waiting by the restaurant’s front door with Mina while Bakugou fetches his car. The other three guys already hit the dirt and carpooled home together, not one of them having bothered to drive here in the first place knowing they’d get drunk, or at the very least, tipsy.

The silence is comfortable as you breathe in the cool, evening breeze, while Mina sways side to side beside you.

“If you ask me, Bakugou didn’t drink tonight because he wanted to drive you home safely.”

You whip around to look at the pink-skinned hero, “Huh?”

Mina only shrugs in response, not bothering to repeat herself. Instead, she reaches for something in her purse, digs through it for a couple of seconds, before pulling out a strip of film that you instantly recognize is that of you and Bakugou from a while ago.

“Sorry, but I’m keeping the one of us as a group,” she sing-songs, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, before thrusting the string of photos towards you. “But you get to keep the one of you and Bakugou.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly accept it from the girl.

She grins at you, “Keep it safe for him, ‘kay?”

You refrain from telling her that he most definitely doesn’t care about whether or not you keep these photos safe, and instead give her an affirmative nod. Looking down at the object in your hands, you study the images one by one.

Your smile does look a bit strained in the first, and you’re not even smiling in the second, dumbly staring at the heart instead, but you’d say you appear decent enough in the third yet downright foolish in the last. It’s Bakugou that leaves you dumbfounded, though.

He’s not smiling in the first one—at least, not really—but he still managed to look handsome and exude a boyish charm that’s always been characteristic of him. To your surprise, he’s also not looking at the camera in the second; instead, his eyes are directed towards you, a solemn expression on his face. Against your will, you feel yourself warm at the thought of being the object of his attention without your knowledge. In stark contrast, he comes off stiff as hell in the third photo with your head on his shoulder, and in the last one…

His eyes are closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his cheeks are tinged the lightest shade of pink.

Huh.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Mina pipes up out of nowhere, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You flush at her words. “Sorry?”

The girl merely smirks, a knowing expression etched across her beautiful features. “It’s written all over your face.”

Your free hand absentmindedly shoots up to feel your face, and it doesn’t elude you that you’re heating up.

To your relief, Mina doesn’t say anything else. She shrugs again, checking something on her phone before turning to face you once more, “Well, my Uber’s here! Tell Bakugou to drive safely and make sure you get home in one piece, okay, bestie?”

You smile at her concern and the adorable term of endearment she’s assigned to you, “I will.”

Mina seems to hesitate for a second before decidedly stepping closer and bringing you into a warm hug, which you return as best as you can.

You eventually pull away from each other after a moment, and she walks down the stairs and towards the dark maroon car that’s just arrived.

Leaving you with nothing but the space to mull over the ramifications of what has just been said.

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)♥

[lovifie]

Newdad!Ghost and Newmom! Reader having their child’s first fever…

I did ramble a bit about this before having the baby, I hope you don't mind ❤️ Also, I have no experience with babies so I hope I didn't write anything completely nonsense

Fluff | 1076 words | Back to Masterlist

Simon Riley thought that he was no longer a coward.

That the years spent in the military were enough to make him a brave man.

That there was nothing left to make him stutter on his words or feel his knees wobble.

That's what he thought though.

Because ever since the second you came out of the bathroom, positive pregnancy test on hand; he's been terrified, elated but terrified.

Terrified of something bad happening, to you, to the baby, to him... The thought of leaving you alone terrified him the worst.

But nothing happened.

You were already in the last trimester, almost past your due date and everything was perfect.

Whenever you saw the nerves getting the best of Simon you jumped to console him, reassuring him everything would be fine.

He felt horrible, he should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. So plush and round with his offspring, the baby already sucking your energy.

"Big fucking bairn." As Soap once called it before getting smacked on the back of the head.

It was true, nonetheless, but still.

It was one day, when he saw you wobbling your way to the kitchen that it finally set on his mind.

He was about to be a father.

And fuck if he wasn't going to be the best one out there.

Now that it was the third trimester he could finally put in his parental leave, going home to you and helping with everything.

He finally got to building the crib, fixing the leaky faucet, changing the clothes in the closet for the winter one.

Everything was ready.

He wasn't, of course; when the contractions finally started. And he panicked when you said it was too early to go to the hospital.

5:40. That was the rule you keep repeating.

40 seconds contraction, every 5 minutes.

But he still struggled to stay strong whenever you would groan, holding onto the sink to steady yourself to breathe.

Once he finally managed to get you to the hospital, everything became a blur. He barely managed to send your family a message about the baby coming, and when he went to notify his family, he simply sent Price a message that said: "Baby now. Hospital."

Everything went smoothly, pride overflowing from his heart whenever he would look at you. He was hypnotized by the baby; looking so much like you but his features still looking back at him.

He kissed your forehead, thanking you for reviving Simon Riley. The man he buried so long ago, now rebirth as your daughter's dad.

He could feel people coming in and out of the room but completely ignored them, too busy staring at you and the baby.

Gaz even made you laugh, talking about how he thought pregnancy brain only happened to moms and that he thought Simon must have hit his head on the way in.

The look of unfiltered fear on the four men when the newborn started fussing around from the crib made you laugh. They quickly turned to see what the threat was, only for the baby to start crying at the top of her tiny lungs making the four men jump.

"She must be hungry." You say, leaning forward and looking at Simon. "Can you hand her to me, Si?"

He immediately did, holding the tiny baby with all the care the mountain of a man could muster. Passing her to you, and turning to the men talking about decency and giving you privacy.

They walked out, Price dropping a kiss on your head congratulating you once more on the job well done, leaving you, Simon and the baby.

The three of you.

His tiny family.

That he would kill and die in order to protect.

So he found himself useless, looking at you trying to calm the baby down when she wouldn't stop crying and her fever would keep rising.

He was at the door frame, seeing you pace the room, cleaning the baby's face with a damp cloth. He could see it on your face, the worry, the exhaustion, the fear... How have you hidden it so well? How has he not seen it before?

"She's over 39°, Si." You say, voice trembling with the knot in your throat.

"Let's go to the hospital." He said, grabbing the baby bag and your coat, and opening the door. He could see your doubt, the fear of what taking the baby back to the hospital meant for you. "C'mon, mama. The sooner we get there, the sooner we'll be back."

He needed to be strong right now, he has laid back for long enough. He saw the little cracks on you and he was going to fill them before you noticed them.

Simon Riley thought he was brave.

But he has never been as afraid as when he was driving, baby in the car seat and you sitting beside him in the back. Silent tears sliding down your face as you apologised to the crying baby.

It made him want to skip every red light, get there as soon as possible, so the doctors could tell you that you made the right choice, that you did a good job.

But he would rather relive his nightmare of a life a thousand times before doing such a stupid thing of putting you both at risk.

He sees the way you hug yourself when the nurse takes the baby away, and he quickly engulfs you in a hug. Protecting you from the cold of the night, protecting you from every danger outside and protecting you from every thought inside your brain.

"Everything is going to be alright, mama." He says, kissing your head. Heart sinking when he hears you sob and hug him back. "Everything will be alright, this happens, babies get sick sometimes. It doesn't mean you aren't doing a hell of a job, alright?"

You sob on his chest, tugging his shirt on your hands.

"You are an amazing mother, love. You are doing an amazing job. Our little tadpole has the best mom in the world." He says, swinging softly side to side, rocking you, petting your head. "She'll be fine. She's brave just like you, love. She'll be fine. We'll be fine."

Because Simon Riley always thought he was brave, but as long as you two were alive; he was a coward and losing you both was his biggest fear.

[redvexillum]

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, big c♡ck!Val, light degradati♡n kink, Val is in hell for a reason, p in v, naive!reader, dub-con, betrayal, angst, praise kink, sub!reader, rough s♡x, hair pulling, multiple ♡rgasm (f!recieving), dirty talk, daddy dom/sub undertone, fing♡ring, cervix f♡cking, ♡verstimulation, thr♡at f♡cking, g♡slighting, first time writing Val, Val is the warning

WORD COUNT: 5.7K~

SPECIAL MENTION: @crackrodent (my fellow VoxTek Server member), your request has been heard. Here you go.

In your bleakest hour, when the darkness of Hell threatened to swallow you whole, a saviour came in the form of a devil – no, a man. A man, tall and lanky, his grin hidden behind the oversized, heart-shaped sunglasses that glittered with charm. His suit, sleek and pristine, seemed to gleam in the dim light of his studio, its fabric cool against your fingertips. His antennae resembled delicate strands of beads, swaying gently with each movement, while the fur collar draped around his neck was impossibly soft, like brushing your hand against velvet clouds.  

You sank into the plush couch, its cushions cradling you as though welcoming you into his world of luxury. As you leaned forward, the silence of the room wrapped around you, broken only by the gentle press of your lips against his. Valentino’s touch, ever so light, cradled your cheek with the upper set off his arms, the pads of his fingers warm and tender. His lower arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, a possessive embrace that held you still beneath his gaze.  

“Ah, baby,” he cooed, his voice rich and decadent, like the taste of something forbidden and wild. His red eyes, muted behind his tinted glasses, traced every inch of your face. “I’d love to make you a star.” 

Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks. “Val, I…I’m not good at acting,” you murmured, almost shrinking under the intensity of his gaze. You could still remember the days he found you – lost, chased by heartless demons, terrified. He’d stepped in with his effortless charm, offered your shelter, safety, everything you could ever want and more. He gave it all so freely, draping you in luxury that felt like a dream, love that you had never known before.  

He chuckled, a sound so smooth it sent a shiver down your spine. “Nonsense, cariño,” he whispered, each word sliding from his lips like honey. His hand pressed against your chest, gently pushing you back into the couch’s soft embrace. “Look at you,” he purred, a predatory grin stretching his lips, revealing the glint of his golden tooth. “You’re absolutely stunning.” He leaned closer, the heat of his breath grazing your skin like a soft whisper. “You’re sexy,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over your collarbone. “And you voice…” His lips hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Absolutely divine.” 

Your body reacted before your mind could process, your pulse quickening as heat pooled in your core. “V-Val…” you breathed, voice trembling with anticipation. He’d made love to you before, always so tender, so careful – his touch was slow, calculated, and worshipful. Every time, he ensured you reached the stars before him.  

He was patient.  

He was kind.  

He was your everything.  

“At least audition for my movie, won’t you?” Val’s voice slid through you like silk, pulling you under the weight of his will. It always did. His hands, those skilled, knowing hands, never stopped their caresses. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of everything for you. I always do.” 

A soft giggle escaped your lips, though your nerves frayed at the edges. “I guess I can try,” you whispered, fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw, finding comfort in the familiar feel of his skin. “But…you won’t be angry if I fail, right?” The words were hesitant, the shadow of doubt clinging to your tone. You searched his face, wanting to find reassurance that had always been there.  

“Of course not, cariño.” Valentino placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “I could never be angry at you.” Another kiss followed, but this one felt colder, more distant.  

“I love you, Val,” you sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his embrace, your arms tightening around his chest. His scent – rich, intoxicating, almost suffocating – filled your senses, and you held on to it, onto him, like a lifeline. “I love you so much,” you repeated, your words trembling with a vulnerability you weren’t sure he’d ever truly hear.  

He laughed, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. He never said it back. He never had. But you had convinced yourself it was fine. He’d told you once that love took time, that he needed to learn how to feel it. And you had promised to wait for him – for however long it took.  

“My heart,” Val murmured against your skin, his lips brushing down the length of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, the tips cool against the flush of your skin. You shuddered, helpless under his touch, every nerve alighted as he traced, slow, deliberate patterns across your bare flesh.  

“A-ah, Val…” Your voice trembled as his fingers roamed higher, teasing, ghosting over the curve of your breast. His touch, light as a feather, sent a surge of warmth coursing through you. But something pulled your attention – a sharp glint in the corner of your eye.  

A camera.  

Its lens was pointed directly at the couch. The red light blinked in the shadows, cold and unfeeling.  

“W-wait, Val!” You gasped, your heart lurching as his tongue, long and sinuous, slid over your neck, leaving a trail of icy wetness in its wake.  

The room’s heat pressed in around you, the air thick with the heady scent of Valentino’s cologne mixed with something far more primal. You barely registered the cool sensation of the leather couch beneath you before Val’s lower arms were sliding under your skirt, his fingers deftly hooking into the delicate g-string he’d gifted you.  

“Mmm, baby, you know that’s my favourite set,” he murmured, his voice dripping with casual possession as the fabric tore under his grip. The shredded lingerie hit the floor with a careless flick of his wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you plenty more,” he added, voice smooth but laced with that dangerous, predatory edge, as his fingers found the wetness between your legs. His fingers slipped through your folds with a familiarity that sent a helpless shudder up your spine.  

You gasped, your thighs trembling as his fingers danced over your slick heat. He moved with the precision of someone who knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, as each motion was designed to unravel you so. “I…I…ha…ha…” Your words dissolved into breathless moans as he dipped into your core, gathering the wetness there before rubbing slow circles into the swollen nub that made you jolt under his touch.  

“Th-the ca-camera,” you finally managed to choke out, a moan slipping past your lips as he kept circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, your spine arching instinctively toward his touch. You couldn’t stop the sound that escaped from you, something desperate and raw. God, the way he played your body was criminal.  

Val’s breath, hot and tickling the shell of your ear, made you tremble. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispered, his voice a velvety purr that slithered down your spine, pooling low in your belly. “You trust me, don’t you?” His breath brushed against your skin, and you could feel the heat of him, a roaring furnace of want hovering just over you.  

Your mouth opened, another moan tearing from your throat as he pressed two fingers into you, the wet sound of him fucking your slick folds filling the room. “I…I trust you with all my heart,” you whimpered, your hips instinctively grinding against his hand, chasing the pressure, the release. His fingers curled inside you, and you felt the pleasure blooming with each movement, the slow smouldering burn becoming an insistent need.  

“You’re going to come for me, baby,” Val panted, his eyes gleaming with dark hunger, his lips parted, red saliva dripping in thick, viscous lines from the corners of his mouth. “Then you’re going to take daddy’s big cock, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, sultry growl, his fingers quickening their relentless pace, the sound of your arousal slick and obscene.  

All you could do was nod, biting down on your lip to suppress the rising moans threatening to spill from you. Your legs parted wider without thinking, your body offering itself to him as his second set of hands gripped you harder, keeping you in place as he ripped your shirt, skirt, and bra from your body, the sound of fabric tearing like distant thunder.  

The cold air hit your exposed skin, your nipples hardening in response as he held you down, his fingers still driving you closer to that edge, pushing and pulling you into the pleasure with ruthless expertise.  

Your vision blurred, the room narrowing to just the sensations of his fingers, the way they pressed and curled inside you, the pressure building higher, tighter, a coil ready to snap apart. “Ah…ah! F-f-f-” you stammered, each thrust making you shake, your body arching off the couch. His grin widened, sharp and wicked, as he watched you, relishing the sight of you coming undone beneath him.  

“That’s right, baby,” Val cooed, his voice a velvet blade, slicing through the haze of your thoughts as the sound of wet, rhythmic slapping filled the space between you. “Come for daddy.” His chuckle reverberated through you, the final push that sent you careening over the edge.  

With a scream, your body snapped taut, the orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your heels dug into the couch as you thrashed under his unrelenting touch. He didn’t stop, his fingers still plunging in and out, drawing out ever last wave of pleasure until you were nothing more but a trembling and panting bitch in heat from his hands.  

“Oh, baby,” Val crooned, his eyes gleaming crimson as he watched your chest rise and fall. His lips dripped that unnatural red saliva, a few droplets landing on the curve of your breast. “You look so beautiful when you come.” His voice was thick with desire, but also something darker – something possessive.  

You grinned weakly, basking in the praise despite the exhaustion. Even now, after he’d torn you apart with pleasure, you still craved his approval, his validation. But then you saw him unzip his pants, his cock springing free, thick and veined. Its lilac hue pulsed with each heartbeat, and the tip beaded with evidence of his arousal. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight, the sheer size of him still intimidating, even though you’d been here before.  

But then, though the haze of lingering pleasure, reality crept back in – the audition. Your audition. The reason you were even here today.  

“Val,” you began, your voice small, hesitating. You swallowed hard, the words almost painful to get out. “What about the audition?” You wrung your hands together nervously, your body instinctively curling in on itself. “I…I don’t want to be late. I promised I’d be there on time and I don't want to disappoint you…” 

Val smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, comforting smile you’d grown used to. It was indulgent, knowing. “Oh, my precious little girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with saccharine sweetness as his fingers closed around your wrist, pulling you back into his orbit. His touch was warm, reassuring, and for a moment, you forgot why you’d been so anxious. “As long as you’re with me, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Your breath hitched as he guided your hand to his cock, your fingers wrapping around the solid heat of him. He was impossibly thick, your hand dwarfed by his length, and as you felt the weight of him, all thoughts of the audition melted away.  

You knew what he wanted. The air between you crackled with tension, and with a shy, teasing smile, you leaned forward. Your lips brushed the swollen head of his cock, its heat palpable even before you pressed a lingering kiss against it. The musky scent of him filled your senses, the salt of his pre-cum lingering on your tongue as you opened your mouth, taking in the bulbous tip. The taste was intoxicating, heady, and dizzying.  

Before you could react, his fingers twisted into your hair, a sharp tug, forcing your mouth further onto him. You whimpered, hands scrambling to grip his thighs, pleading with the pressure of your fingers that it was too much.  

But he didn’t care. His hips moved forward, relentless, the thick shaft pushing past your lips, stretching them beyond comfort. Your eyes fluttered shut as his cock slid across your tongue, heavy and pulsing. You felt him filling your mouth, pushing deeper and deeper, and the first flutter of panic set in when he hit the back of your throat.  

“You can take more, can’t you, baby?” His voice was a low purr above you, filled with dark, honeyed encouragement. “Daddy knows you’re such a good girl.” 

Your throat convulsed, trying to adjust, your lips already aching from the stretch as he sank deeper. You gagged around him, tears stinging your eyes, but your determination to please him held you in place. The taste of him, the weight of him, filled your senses completely.  

Your nails dug into his skin, a desperate plea to slow down, but he only chuckled, stroking your head as if you were some cherished pet. “Mmm, that’s it. I knew you could handle it.” 

Every inch of him seemed to demand more, pushing past your limits. You couldn’t seal your lips fully around him; he was far too thick. Your mouth couldn’t close properly, but it didn’t matter. The wet, sloppy sounds of your struggle filled the room, along with your gags and his low, satisfied grunts.  

Drool spilled from the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin, dripping onto your thighs as your gag reflex betrayed you. Your nostrils flared desperately, fighting for air.  

His grip tightened, forcing your head in rhythm with his hips, controlling you completely. He moaned, and the sound vibrated through your core, making your legs squeezed together, desperate for friction. You could hear his pleasure, feel it in the way his cock twitched as it slipped deeper into your throat.  

The room blurred, tears spilling down your face, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you struggled for breath. Everything was too much – his taste, his weight, his voice, the pressure in your throat as he pushed past the brink of your tolerance.  

Then, suddenly, he pulled out, your lungs heaving as you gasped for air. His cock, now slick with your saliva, glistened in the light as it hovered in front of your face. You coughed, a thick strand of spit connecting your lips to his cock snapped away. 

“Such a good little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was darkly sweet, laced with approval. He tugged on your hair, lifting you, repositioning you with ease as if you weighed nothing. His lower hands cupped your ass, lifting you until you were straddling him, his cock nudging insistently at your entrance.  

“I can’t…” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. You shook your head, trying to regain some control, but even the thought of sitting on him made your body tremble. “Val, please, I can’t take it all.” 

Val laughed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Oh, baby, but you will.” His confidence was undeniable, his grin wicked. Unexpectedly, he gripped your hips and pulled you down, forcing the head of his cock inside you.  

The stretch was immediate, intense, and you gasped, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket as your body struggled to accommodate his size. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion. Every nerve was on fire, pleasure and pain melding together in a dizzying mix as his fingers found your nipples, tweaking and pulling until you cried out.  

“That’s right. Let daddy hear how much you love it,” he crooned, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re doing so well for me,” 

You bit your lips, eyes rolling back as he pushed deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, his cock stretching you impossibly wide, filling you in ways that made your head spin. “So big,” you whimpered, hips trembling as you tried to make space for him, but there wasn’t enough.  

He grunted, and with one swift motion, he pushed even deeper, a sharp gasp escaping you. He was at the end of you, pressing into places you didn’t know could be touched, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, inch by agonizing inch, until you were sure he would split you open.  

“Oh, God…oh fuck,” you panted, your hands falling slack against his chest as you focused on breathing through the intense pressure building inside you. He held your waist firmly, his grip possessive, controlling, as if daring your body to resist him.  

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, soft encouragement like music to your soul. “Almost there, mi amor.” 

Tears filled your eyes then. 

This was the first time.  

This was the first time Val had ever called you mi amor.

Mi amor.  

My love.  

Love.  

You could feel him inside you, every thick vein, every inch of his cock as it stretched your body to its limits. Your belly bulged slightly where he pressed against you, a faint outline visible as he finally seated him fully inside you.  

With one final hard thrust, he slammed you down onto his cock, and a scream tore from your throat. Your back arched as the shock of it rippled through your entire body. Your insides clenched around him, helpless to do anything else as he filled you completely, his cock a hard, throbbing presence deep within your core.  

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with pride and lust. “You took it all, didn’t you? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but tremble in his lap. Your body shook with the effort of accommodating him. The pain slowly dulled, replaced by an overwhelming fullness that sent pulses of pleasure through you. You could feel him deep inside you, so deep it felt like he was in your very soul.  

A sob escaped your lips, half pain, half pleasure, as he grinned up at you, his gold tooth winking at you. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice rich with satisfaction.  

Maybe…he could love you now.

You hoped that he loved you.  

Without warning, he lifted your hips, pulling his cock halfway out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy clenched, desperate to keep him inside, but he only chuckled, holding you steady.  

“Shh, don’t worry,” he soothed, his lips planting small kisses along your jawline as he spoke. “I’m not done with you yet. Daddy’s going to take care of you.” 

Before you could process his words, he slammed you back down onto his cock, his hips meeting yours with a bruising force. You screamed, hands clawing at his shoulders as he began to thrust in earnest, fucking up into you with a savage intensity. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your vision going hazy as you lost yourself to the feeling of him inside you.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your broken moans and his ragged grunts. He fucked you hard, mercilessly, his cock driving deep into your core with every thrust. The pressure inside you built, spiralling out of control as your body melted against him, surrendering your soul, your heart, your body, completely.  

“I want you, daddy,” you cried into the air. His cock throbbed inside you, twitching inside of you, the pressure making your walls flutter in response. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, a sweet, helpless plea that he loved hearing from you.  

Val’s grin was wide and wicked, that gleaming gold tooth catching the harsh light above. “That’s right, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, his tone low and degrading. The moment the words left his lips, his hips slammed forward with brutal position, pulling you down hard against him once more.  

The scream tore from you before you could stop it, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being utterly filled. His cock drove so deep inside, you swore you could feel him pressing against your womb. You gasped, chest heaving, as he pounded in to you.  

The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every stroke felt like a cruel tease – he would pull away just enough to leave you empty before ramming back into you, your lips red and raw from the relentless friction. You could only hang on, body trembling, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure rippling through you.  

His cock didn’t just touch your cervix; it slammed into it, forcing it open as he claimed every inch of you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak – only animalistic sounds escaped your lips as he took you over and over again.  

Your limbs went slack, completely giving into his control. Val’s hands gripped you tightly, guiding your body as he pleased. You were a puppet to his desire, limp yet burning alive under his touch. Your head fell forward, and you panted for breath. “Oh fuck, daddy, daddy,” you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close – so, so, close,” you babbled, the peak just within reach, the sensation building into something unbearable.  

Val’s voice, low and commanding, made your world unravel. “That’s right, come for daddy,” he growled, his hips snapping against you. The harsh slam of his body against yours was all it took to push you over the edge. You tensed, gasping, as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you trembling and slick between your thighs, your mind a haze of white-hot pleasure.  

Your body slumped forward, but Val wasn’t finished. In a swift movement, he pushed you down to the cold floor and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. Your limbs shook, barely able to hold your weight as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you back toward him. You barely had time to gasp before you felt the molten heat of his cock press against your entrance again.  

His cock surged back into you with unrelenting force, and your eyes widened at the new sensation. From this angle, he felt impossibly big, stretching you even more, his girth filled you completely. “Oh, Val!” You yelped as he slammed your head back against the floor, your cheek pressed against it. Drool escaped your lips and pooled beneath you. Your body quivered as he drove in to you without pause, his cock a burning brand inside your slick, swollen walls.  

Your breath came in ragged bursts, the pleasure too much for your already overstimulated body. Your inner thighs were soaked, your juices smeared against your skin as his cock slid in and out with wet, obscene sounds. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak - just a string of helpless moans escaping your lips as his heavy balls slapped against your hardened clit with each punishing thrust.  

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you mumbled, barely coherent as your pussy clenched around him again, the rippling spasms of another orgasm threatening to break you apart. But Val didn’t let up, didn’t stop – his grip on your hair only tightened, his hips pounding harder, relentless.  

“Give me another, cariño,” he panted, his words punctuated by the sharp slapping of skin, his balls crashing against your sore, soaked folds. The sharp sting of his balls hitting your sensitive clit made you mewl, your body jerking uncontrollably. You were drowning in pleasure, your body an aching, quivering mess beneath him, unsure how many more times you could come for him.  

“Tell me how good it feels, baby,” Val’s voice was a low growl, his demands sharp and insistent. “Go on, tell me.” 

“It feels good, so good, so good,” you chanted, barely aware of what you were saying. The words spilled from your lips automatically, your mind too fogged by the constant waves of pleasure crashing through you. You could barely see, eyes half-lidded, body vibrating with pleasure as he fucked you deeper into the floor.  

Val’s fingers that were clutching your hair twisted, lifting your head and torso as he changed his angle again. The shift made his cock curve inside you, and a fresh wave of sensation hit you like a bolt of lightening. Your breasts hung heavy, nipples sensitive as his clawed fingers pinched them harder. The pain blurred with pleasure, a delicious sting that you moan in earnest.  

Your thighs trembled, slick with your own juices, as the wet slap of his clock echoed in the room. The slick, wet sounds as he drove in to you, the puddle of your arousal spreading beneath you – you could hear and picture it so vividly in your mind’s eyes.  

As your eyes fluttered open, they caught the blinking red light of the camera across the room. An insidious voice whispered in your mind that the camera was recording every moment of your body’s surrender. The lens must have captured it all – the way your belly bulged slightly, moulding around Val’s cock, the way your cunt greedily pulled him in, stretching to take every inch of him.  

Your head felt weightless, like you were floating in a thick haze. Every inch of your body moved with the rhythm of Val’s relentless thrusts, his cock the sole force driving your muscles. Each push sent a shockwave through you, a reminder of the overwhelming fullness he gave. You never knew it could feel like this – raw, needy, with every nerve igniting under his touch. There was no distance between you now, no barriers.  

“Baby, baby…” Val’s voice rasped near your ear, soft yet demanding. His breath scorched the sensitive tip of your ear. Your hair clung to your damp face as you panted for air. “You love me, don’t you, baby?” His lips ghosted over your neck before brushing against your ear, his cock pressing deep inside, filling every crevice within you. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, the pressure almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want him to stop.  

You craved more.  

“Tell me you love me,” his tongue slid along the curve of your ear, the wet warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine. When he kissed the shell of your ear, it felt like electricity, sharp and consuming. He whispered again, his voice like velvet laced with poison. “Tell me you’ll give me your heart, your soul, cariño.” His words were intoxicating, seeping into you like a drug, making your pulse race.  

“Hah…hah…” You couldn’t catch your breath as he made small, precise thrusts, nudging the edge of your cervix, the pressure so sweet it hurt. “I – I love you, Val, I love you,” you gasped, the need in your voice undeniable. Your body ached for him, craving that raw, reckless connection.  

“Love me enough to sell me your soul,” he murmured against your skin. His hips drew back, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, his cock hitting that devastatingly perfect spot that made your vision black out with pleasure.  

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath as you writhed against him, desperate for more. “I’ll give you my soul, I’ll do anything – anything for you, Val.” 

The words spilled from your lips, raw and uncontrolled, as his cock slowly withdrew again, every inch of it dragging along your inner walls, leaving you trembling with the loss of heat and fullness. You whimpered, your hips arching involuntarily, seeking him, needing him to fill that space again.  

Cold metal kissed your neck, the unexpected sensation making your skin prickle, but before you could make sense of it, Val’s large hand slammed down on your shoulder, pressing you hard against the floor.  

“Oh, baby…” His voice dripped with satisfaction, the weight of it thick in your ears. “I knew you’d say yes. You’re one of my favourites.” His hand enveloped the side of your face, your cheek pressing hard into the cool surface beneath you. You felt his other hands lift your hips, and then his cock drove into you again, quick, brutal, carving out a space inside you, like he was determined to make you his in every possible way.  

The slap of his hips against your ass was sharp, the wet sound of your slickness loud in the air, and the stretch of him was so intense, so consuming, it stole every thought from your mind. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, so overwhelming that it bordered on pain. Your muscles twitched, your body teetering on the edge of breaking from the relentless pounding, but you wanted more. You needed more.  

Your gasps turned to cries as he bottomed out inside you, his cock filling you completely. The pressure was unbearable, yet addictive, your body aching for every inch of him. Nothing existed but the feeling of him, the way his cock stretched and claimed you over and over again. 

Warmth flooded your insides as he released his seed, filling you with deep, hot pulses. The sensation made your belly clench, every muscle in your body locking up as pleasure mixed with the heat of his approval, his ownership.  

As his cock softened inside you, the grip he had on you loosened. Your body, finally released from the tension, collapsed against the floor. His seed leaked from you in thick waves, trickling down your thighs, sticky and warm, mixing with the remnants of your own release. Every nerve in your body was spent, and the simple act of breathing felt like it required all the energy you had left.  

“Baby,” Val’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, casual and cold. He nudged your limp body with the tip of his shoe, roiling you onto your back. You stared up at him, dazed, your body sore, mind struggling to keep up. His cock hung loosely, still glistening with the remnants of both of you, but there was no intimacy in his gaze, no softness.  

Only…detachment.  

“That was a splendid show.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. As he spoke, a faint pink mist swirled in the air, wrapping itself around your neck like a collar. A chain, thin and ethereal, extended from it, connecting to his wrist. The weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating, though it barely touched your skin.  

You furrowed your brows, confusion flooding your senses while your body remained sluggish and unresponsive. “V-Val?” You stammered, the word barely a whisper, your throat raw from use and from the screams still lodged inside you.  

His expression shifted, the warmth you had once known dissipated entirely. His eyes curved into crescents, a cruel mockery of joy, and his lips twisted into something sharp and sinister. “I expect you to be at work every day, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with casual cruelty. A chuckle followed, light but empty. “Truly, a pleasure doing business with you.” 

You stared, uncomprehending, as he tucked himself back into his pants with a casual ease, as though nothing had happened, as though you were nothing – not even an afterthought. He patted his clothes, as if brushing away some invisible dust, erasing any trace of the intimacy you thought you had shared.  

“V-Val?” You tried again, your voice cracking, your body trembling as the reality of his words began to sink in. The warmth from his touch, from the act you once thought was love, had already cooled, leaving only a hollow ache. You could feel the crust of his seed drying against your skin, flaking away like something discarded, forgotten.  

His response was swift and brutal. “You work for me now, baby,” he crooned, bending down to meet your gaze as though you were a child who couldn’t quite understand. His hand came down on your head, not with affection, but with condescension, a pat that made your skin crawl. “Now, clean yourself up. The next actors need to use this set.” 

The words crashed into you, sharp and final, and before you could gather the strength to respond, he turned away, his footsteps echoing as he moved toward the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut rang in your ears, the finality of it stealing the breath from your lungs.  

For a moment, you were paralyzed, your mind swirling into a storm of chaos, trying desperately to make sense of the sudden emptiness where warmth had been. 

Slowly… 

Painfully… 

You tried to sit up.  

You tried – oh, you tried, but your body screamed in agony, your stomach and insides raw from the violent way he had… 

You bit your lips. Hard.  

Hard enough to pierce the skin, and a metallic tang blossomed on your tongue.  

He had used you.  

“V-Val…” you whimpered, the name slipping from your bloody, broken lips in a stilted, pleading cry. There was no pride left, only desperation. “Val…Val…” Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable, spilling down your cheeks in silent rivers. You crawled toward the door, your legs too weak to stand, every movement a reminder of his cruelty, the soreness a mark of how easily he had discarded you.  

“Val…” You sobbed, your throat tight, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. Each attempt to call his name was met with silence, the room pressing in on you, the walls looming over you, the door an impenetrable barrier. The hollow thud of your palm against the cold, unforgiving floor was the only sound left as you clawed your way forward, begging for something you knew you’d never get.  

The truth slithered into your mind, cold and unbearable.  

He was gone.  

He had never cared. 

You weren’t special.  

You had never been.  

A bitter sob tore through you, and as the tears flowed freely, the thought struck you like a knife to the chest.  

He never once told you he loved you… 

...had he?

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

That's Not Your Food, Woo

Summary: bf!Wooyoung is known for stealing your food, but this time he got caught Notes: pure fluff as I'm in my Woo era again 😩 1028 words (how tf did I write two woo fics with the same amount of words???)

A gasp resounded in the room, silence following quickly after. You stood at the entrance of the kitchen, staring directly at the man sitting at the island bar, his form hunched over. Even with his back facing you, you knew what he was doing. The aroma of your favorite snack filled the air.

"It's not what it looks like," Wooyoung mumbles through a mouth full of food, quickly shoving the container behind a roll of paper towels.

You threw your bag on the marble counter, rounding to the other side to catch him in the act. "It's exactly what it looks like!" You pointed an accusatory finger towards him. "You're eating my ramen!"

He wiped his mouth to hide the evidence. "Baby, let me explain-"

You shook your head. "There are no words to defend yourself. I see the seasoning packet by your hands. You can't lie to me."

Wooyoung glanced to his side, finally noticing the torn packet you mentioned and reaching to crumble it in his hand. "I was going to replace it," he confesses, sparing at glance your way. "I swear."

Sighing heavily, you leaned against the counter with both arms. "I should have never given you the key to my apartment."

The love of your life could only sit there, guilty. There he was, eating the last container of your favorite ramen noodles, when that's what you were craving all day. You were devastated to say the least. He had been gone for a few weeks on tour, only to come back and eat your food while you worked.

Wooyoung couldn't help the small smile that grew on his lips as he watched you. Slowly, he stood up to walk around the counter, coming up behind you to give you a massage as an apology. "Hey, I can go to the store and grab some more. Alright? I'm sorry, my love."

You tried to hold the serious and upset facade, but his massage was breaking your composure. "You promised you'd pick up my favorite chips before you left for Japan a month ago and I'm still waiting on those."

He giggled lightly, resting his chin on your shoulder to press his nose to your cheek, giving it a peck. "Okay fine, I'm guilty of not replacing your foods right away. But I'm on break for awhile before our next tour stop. Lemme make it up to you."

You turned to glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "By doing what?"

He smirked, reaching his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. "Oh, I can think of a few things."

Yanking yourself free from his tight grasp, you immediately put distance between you two and pointed a finger at him once again. "No! None of that mushy gushy nonsense. You owe me food! Love doesn't put food on the table, Jung Wooyoung."

His laughter bubbled out of him, watching you move further back with each step closer he took. "That's okay, I have money for the food. I can always go to the store, but right now? I need to make you forgive me."

You tried hard to fight a smile as you found yourself backed into the pantry door, raising your arms as if to stop the man from getting to you. "You know, I've decided you've repented enough. N-no need to repay me anymore. I forgive you."

"How noble," he bemused, suddenly in front of you. His hands grabbed your own, pushing them out of the way as he moved forward, now only inches away.

You started to giggle as he leaned into your face, a huge grin on his face mirroring your own. You attempted to push him away but with as little force as possible. He stood absolutely still against your tries, still inching closer instead. You were cornered with nowhere to run.

You shrunk against the pantry, turning your head to the side as you prepared for a kiss attack. You've suffered from the wet, forceful kisses many of times to know what you were in for. Your hands were trapped beneath his own. What you didn't expect was for him to release one arm, his hand reaching up to grip your chin to turn you enough so you looked at him again.

The mood suddenly shifted with that one movement. His gaze landed on your lips, far more sultry than you anticipated. Your breathing became haggard as you watched him watching you. It was silent aside from your heart beating uncontrollably loud.

"I've missed you," he whispered lowly, a bit of sadness flashing across his eyes briefly.

You hadn't the chance to respond. He immediately pressed his lips against your own, kissing you deeply. Shifting so you were comfortable, he released your other hand to grip your waist and pull you against him. You sighed against his lips, feeling the sweetness in the kiss you missed so dearly. It was all you needed to succumb to him.

He changed directions, dipping his hand passed your ear and into your hair, gripping the back of your neck so you pushed even further into the kiss. The kisses were long and drawn out, soft noises filling your ears. You wanted nothing more than to continue feeling his soft lips, bringing you absolute comfort and sense of security. Your eyes were clenched tightly shut as you tried to enjoy every second of his affection.

When he pulled back, that mischievous smirk was back. "Am I forgiven?"

You barely had enough breath in you to counter his comment. "Fine," you bit, rolling your eyes.

He chuckled at your reluctancy, wrapping his arms tightly around your shoulders and squeezing you. "I love you." You hummed a response as he nuzzled his head on the side of yours. "Say it back."

"I love you too," you mumbled.

You could tell he was enjoying every second of that torture. You finally wrapped your arms around him as well, giving him a firm squeeze. The feeling of his warm cheek pressed against your own made you sigh in comfort and delight. The light of your life was in your arms once again, right where he belonged.

[thejollywriter]

IT'S TIME TO LAUNCH THE BOOK

WELCOME FRIENDS, TO THE BEGINNING OF AN ADVENTURE! Allow me to introduce to you, DELILAH JONES; free-lance Robin Hood and bad-ass extraordinaire.

In the cyberpunk future of The Redwood Files, Delilah Jones is half film-noire private detective, and half western-gunslinger, who rides into a lawless town and fights the bullies and the bastards that hurt innocent folks.

This anthology contains SIX, count 'em SIX short stories and novellas detailing Delilah's Adventures.

Through a Dream, Lethally; When tech CEO Michael Lense decides to hijack the soft-RAM in his employees heads in order to make people do his bidding, things can get awful, FAST. Being forced, without your consent, to be an assassin or a thief or a sex worker, and more. But Lense also has the city under-thumb. Only Delilah's got the brute force to break Lense's control, and free the city from his cruel influence.

Happy Endings, Guaranteed; Delilah has a partner, and after a long day of nonsense, is looking forward to visiting them at work to unwind. Only to get to the club where her partner works, and discover that they've been KIDNAPPED! Delilah races around the city, squaring up with every underworld hard-ass she comes across following every lead to find her partner. Except nothing is what it seems, and a simple (but tragic) kidnapping turns out to be way more nefarious than Delilah expected. . .

Delilah's Heart; recovering from the last adventure weeks later, Delilah meets a handsome butch at a dive bar. Things between the two show promise, but the butch gets called back to work by an abusive bastard who violates and exploits his employees. The butch asks Delilah for help, and as she digs into it, discovers a deeply connected mafia bookmaker who uses that underground protection to kill and exploit people without fear of consequences. Delilah's the only one who can bring justice down on this bastard, but it threatens a gang war if she does. . .

Gutter Medicine; a gang of outta-town skinheads robs an impoverished clinic in a rough neighborhood. Delilah digs into the theft, and promises to recover the medicine, only to discover that the outta-towners are stirring up trouble to pave the way for an invasion from the South. A Kingpin from Los Angeles is hungry for expansion, and Redwood is fertile ground. Unless Delilah can stop the gang, and convince the Kingpin it'd be too expensive to expand beyond the safe borders of LA.

Restitution; Delilah's robbing a rich billionaire's museum-like mansion one night when she's caught by an unlikely sentry, a very old man who'd had plans of trying to embarrass the billionaire for reneging on a deal, and leaving the old man destitute. Delilah invites him to tell his story, and she volunteers to see justice done, according to Delilah's exacting standards.

In a Name?; every trans person's name comes from a personal place and an intimate choice. This story is about a young thief, with big dreams and a hard head, how she picked her name, and the day she was reborn into Delilah-fucking-Jones.

These stories have literally been years in the making. Some of them are personal, all of them are personal favorites, and this anthology is a collection I've worked very hard on.

Genre fiction is deeply important to me, and I love bringing queer characters to this space. Every story published in this book appeared first, both as ideas and in rough-and-final drafts on my patreon.

HERE'S HOW TO BUY AND SUPPORT THE QUEER NOVELIST IN QUESTION!

my ko-fi store: this is the most direct way to support me (a disabled queer novelist) and I get the biggest cut if you buy the e-book from this source

AMAZON! you want a paperback, YOU GOT A PAPERBACK

and lastly, if you want to see my writing in advance, get your name in the credits, or get special copies in advance, my patreon

thank you for your support, and happy reading <3

[writingoddess1125]

PLEASE could you write a buggy x reader where it’s her first time seeing him without his makeup and he’s in relatively plain clothes and he gets super worried that she won’t like him anymore because he’s not all flashy but she comforts him?? Thank you!!!

Oh I love this! I gotcha love

Buggy X FemReader

Tiny spoonful of Angst and Lots of Fluff

Slightly SubBuggy

You had just gotten out of the bath, towel drying your hair after a particular long day in the Big Top. After a very well done raid of a island, a so-so show you had finally gotten time to winde down for the day. But there was one thing missing- Your damn brush! You'd practically torn apart your room to find it.

Groaning you get up and walk a few doors down to Buggy's room. Often leaving your stuff there or him leaving his stuff in your room- It was just apart of your guys relationship.

"Hey Bugs did I leave my brush in your room?"

You called out as you stepped into his room, having been too familiar with the Captian to bother knocking. The two of you being in a romantic relationship with each other, while he was your Captian he was also the man who you held at night and kissed away his fears and doubts.

Opening the door you are invited to a surprising sight, there stood Buggy in the center of his room in simple black trousers and a white shirt, his blue hair was down his back in thick waves that showed off his face very well. His face cleared of any makeup and even looked moisturized.

His eyes were wide in shock at seeing you there and seeing him like this- His face turning bright red as he stared at you.

"Bugs?.. Do you have my brush?" You asked, blinking at him as you still wanted your brush. Walking into the room and closing the door behind you as you walk to him and look at the vanity were you might have left it.

"G-Get the hell out!" He yelled, embarrassed anger on his face as he pointed to the door. You looked at him in surprise, a brow being raises at his words.

"What's you're problem?" You ask, narrowing your gaze on him and walking to the Captian who stepped away from you.

"I just said get the hell out (Y/N)!! Who do you think you are walking into my room like this! I let you get away with lots but don't you dare think I will-" He was cut off as you reached forward and touched his hair, twirling a loc in your fingertips.

"Your hair looks pretty" You commented, seeing his face blow red like a lamp. He started to stutter nonsense at you, watching as you continued to play with his hair.

"Are you self conscious my Love? I've seen every part of you, just as you've seen me. What has you concerned" He shuts up at this, forgetting you can read him like a open book. He deflates slightly at your words.

"I-I don't look flashy- and my makeup is gone" He muttered, keeping his gaze from you awkwardly. You soften and reach up to gently cup his face, kissing his clean cheek.

"Oh Buggy, you look handsome with or without your makeup. You will always be sexy to me I'm the flashiest of clothes or plain. You are perfect the way you are" You said sweetly, caressing his cheek that had the starts of blue stubble on it. His eyes softened at this as he leaned into your touch.

"Here, let's go lay down Bugs" You suggest, feeling him nod against your hands. Gently reaching down tou take his hand and lead him to the bed, climbing in first you watch him follow after you. Crawling towards you and laying his body against yours, running your fingers through his hair gently in reward as his head laid on your pelvis as he cuddled against your inner leg. Eyes closed and relaxed as he laid there, vulnerable and safe in your arms. A content sigh leaving his pink lips.

"Thank you (Y/N)... Also- i broke your brush and threw it out to sea"

He was met with a pillow to his head at that- and he giggled at this as he snuggled in closer.

[christinarowie332]

i am his .

matt sturniolo x reader

pt 3 of “i’d be an idiot if i said no to that” and “i win” .

warnings - suggestive ? no droogs (boring ik)

y/n and reader realise maybe it ain’t just tension.

—————-

“matt your not even looking”

i say turning my head to look at him giggling , as i’m sat on his lap sideways at his desk .

“i am looking” he whispers lowly , still not looking away from me .

“oh i know your looking , your just not looking at this!!!” i say tapping the paper infront of us .

it’s been around two or three weeks since i hung out with them all and smoked together for the first time . since then i have barley left their apartment . nick and i have gotten so close , chris too .

turns out me and nick had more in common then i initially thought . we both loved melanie martinez , him ,her new stuff and me her old bangers . we also bonded over more personal things and silly things but it’s fair to say we are now attached at the hip . sleepovers . meeting my girl friends . added to group chats and staying up all night talking absolute nonsense and getting deep out of no where.

chris’s issues with him and his girlfriend were worse then we thought . his ramblings from the other night followed into the morning and ended up with us all realising she maybe isn’t the nicest girl . they broke up. this is one of the things that brought us closer . late night seshes talking and listening to music . walks when everyone else falls asleep . him annoying me for half the day .he’s turned into my little brother and i love tm the kid .

matt .

although there are no labels . i am his . not in a toxic way . i am just trilly enamoured with everything this man does . waking up to him smiling down at me . late night drives ending with not so pg moments . his light touches , speaking more then words . the only other language i would ever want to understand . his smile when he sees me and his brothers getting along well . and it’s the same for me . everytime i see his cold mask and attitude drop , everytime i catch him smiling while his brothers talk , everytime a song plays that he likes , watching his shoulders relax and the corner of his mouth twitch , it seems i can physically feel my heart swelling .

so here we are now , in his bedroom after hanging out all day , trying to get him to learn cursive . a silly thing i realised this man could not grasp for the life of him .

“MATT ITS NOT THAT HARD YOU JUST LINK THE LETTERS TOGETHER!!” i jokingly shout through chuckles . grabbing his hand from my thigh and putting the pen in his hand.

“ugh i dont get it !!! it looks stupid bro” he whines out putting his chin on my shoulder and wrapping his free arm around my torso .

“here” i say wrapping my hand around his and moving the pen for him .

Love.

i write it subconsciously and i feel him take his head off my shoulder . i turn my head at the loss of heat to find him staring at me with relaxed and warm features , his eye brows curled upwards and a smile lazily plastered on his face .

“what?” i say tilting my head slightly and shifting my body towards him .

he doesn’t respond and just placed a hand on the side of my face . moving his thumb up and down my cheek looking between my eyes and my lips before leaning in .

we kiss constantly. not being able to stay away from each other . each kiss saying a different thing . “you look good” , “i like your makeup today” “i missed you” “that was really cute” “i need you” . never has it ever said this . the kiss screamed many things . the loudest being “i think im in love with you”

he pulls away first . we both stay silent as turn on his lap and put both my legs over his , sitting face to face . his hands trail down my back to my ass , pushing me forward so our chests are all most touching . i move his hair from his face , admiring the boy in front of me .

i arch my back slightly as i lean in to kiss him again . hands in his hair and on the back of his neck . his hands are on the underside of my thighs lifting up and down at the movement of our make out . his cold fingers getting warmed by my body every time i move downwards on his lap .

he moved his mouth down to my ear , my neck , my collarbones. anything he can reach from this angle . leaving bruises and pink marks in his wake . making my head throw back at the sensation and stealing soft noises from me .

my hand trails underneath his shirt. fingers running down his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths . he takes his top off with my help before lifting me and not breaking the kiss as he carries me to his bed . holding me up with both arms under my thighs before dropping me down on his bed and kissing down my chest. before making his way back up to my lips and placing a slow peck on them .

“ i want you all the time . i want to be yours and only yours y/n please” he whispers ,leaning on top of me , holding himself up by outstretched arms

“you have me matt .”

he has me.

_______________

i hate this sm . i’ll give em a spliff ext time i swear guys i just need a spliff myself first !!!

taglst 🤍

@mangosrar @sturnphilia @urmyslxt @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @sssturniolofart @deatthmatch @martyniukpl @parkerssecrets @lividnity @littlebookworm803 @daddyslilchickenfingers

love u all :) -millz / milkie 🤍

[captain-mj]

Bender

Tried to write four different asks, got super indecisive and wrote something about 09 SoapGhost who none of the asks were about

Ghost woke up slowly and a little bitterly. His head was pounding. Mouth dry as cotton. Luckily all of his clothes were intact but there was a certain grime to them As if he had been out in the rain or maybe fell.

Something moved and he instinctively went for the knife stashed under his pillow.

"Morning, Lieutenant Riley."

"Johnny." Ghost relaxed just as his hand brushed thin air. He wasn't at the flat he lived where a knife was stashed under a pillow.

"Don't Johnny me." His Captain spat, looking pissed. "Ya come to my door. Reeking of alcohol and weed. Groveling. You take anything else last night?"

Through the pounding in his head, Simon thought through it. "Don't think so, sir."

His Captain looked at him and something like regret curled inside him, so thick it choked out his lungs. Luckily, MacTavish softened a little when he saw the look in his eyes. "Aye. Get up. You can take a shower. I don't have any tea so coffee will have to do."

Ghost sat up slowly and adjusted his mask. "What day is it?"

"Sunday."

His last sober memory was on Thursday night so not as bad as he thought. He wondered why his drunken, high brain thought this was the best place to go though.

Ghost stood. "I can shower later. Don't want to be these clothes right back on."

"Nonsense. Those are going in the wash. You can wear some of mine."

"Jo-"

"That's an order, Riley."

Ghost bit his tongue. They weren't in the field or on base. He had ever right to tell him to shove it. But no. Johnny was the one person he'd led order him around and he knew it. Took advantage of it.

So Ghost followed the fucking order. He handed Soap his clothes through the door, careful for no skin to show besides his hand and wrists. He turned the water on hot, deciding if he had to take one, he was also going to use all of Soap's hot water. It felt nice as the water worked some semblance of life back into him.

Soap must've gotten out the good stuff cause he could smell the coffee even in the bathroom. He used Soap's vanilla scented stuff and the man's loofah since he hadn't had the foresight to give Ghost something else to use.

Ghost even used his fancy hair stuff, working the "Clarifying shampoo", whatever that meant, and conditioner into his hair in turn. He wrapped a towel around himself and checked outside the door for clothes. When he didn't see anything, he called for Soap, waiting patiently.

Soap appeared almost immediately to give him underwear. "I have bandages. You injured anywhere."

Ghost's heart spasmed in his chest as he looked over his body. He slid on the underwear during his inspection. "No, I'm in good condition."

A beat of silence before Soap responded. "Don't believe you."

"Want to check yourself?"

"You offering?"

Ghost's turn to be quiet. He glanced at himself. As far as he could see, he really did look fine. If he told Soap he wasn't offering, they'd move on like nothing happened.

"That was inappropriate-"

"Yes. I'm offering." Ghost cut Soap off.

The door opened and he used the towel to dry his hair, doing his best to seem a lot more confident than he was.

Soap didn't look at him in disgust. That was a good place to start. He reached forward and grabbed Ghost's jaw gently, tilting his head back and forth. "Got some bruises."

Ghost tried to remember anything happening. "Don't think I slept with anyone."

It was a piss poor attempt at a joke, but the way Soap's grip tightened on him... a flutter ran through his chest. Close to fear, but too closely related to trust. If Soap hit him, he'd know it was cause he deserved it.

Soap swallowed hard, searching over Ghost for... something.

"Do you not like the idea of me sleeping with someone else?"

"I don't care about that." His body language told a different story. All tensed up like a bowstring. Jaw rigid.

"You purposely have me stripped to my fucking underwear, Captain. You have a death grip on me. And you look pissed. Starting to think you might like me Captain."

Soap frowned. "Course I like you, Simon." It was too honest. Too open. Ghost broke the moment, even if he didn't forgive himself for doing it.

"You promised coffee."

Soap forgave him. Course he did. "I did, didn't I? Let me get you more clothes." His eyes roamed over him one more time. Just... making sure. But Ghost was fine.

Simon wasn't. Simon wished very much he deserved the concern Johnny was showing him.

There was something firmly between them. If they just... knew how to get around it. If Ghost knew how to get around it.

Soap made him a cup of coffee. "Don't have any more benders like that."

"yes sir."

[poetryandfluffycats]

Hi! Can I request a one shot with an afab!reader riding sub!himeru while praising and being all sweet and comforting because he was stressed? Thank you in advance 💕

A/N: HELLO OKAY never in my life did i think id write this much for himeru of all people but uh, it is what it is i guess?? i went off the rails with plot

Pairing: HiMERU x fem!reader

Content: As Crazy:Bs producer, you have lots of duties that tire you out so when your day off does cone you look forward to taking a much needed nap. The world has unfortunately got other plans for you, however.

Warnings: NSFW, porn with plot, dry humping, oral over clothes(m receiving), riding, kind of sub himeru, minimal amount of biting, messy making out, shared orgasms, mentions of depressive tenancies, rinne + niki have screentime, lots of praise and comfort, ooc himeru(?) he breaks character like once

Words: 5.6k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Ring, ring, ring. The phone stored safely in your pocket was vibrating, alerting you to the incoming call you were receiving. With a sigh, you stopped in your tracks and pulled out the device to check the caller ID.

A part of you hoped it was a scam caller rather than a member of the unit you produced. Not that you didn't like speaking to the members of Crazy:B, you enjoyed their company more than anything! The reason was that today was your off day and you had hoped to spend it catching up on your missed class work and then sleeping for the rest of the afternoon, not dealing to whatever new problem the boys had encountered.

Luck wasn't on your side today, unfortunately. The caller ID read 'Rinne Amagi', the smirk of the infamous redheaded idol staring you down through his contact photo, as if taunting you to get ready for whatever nonsense was about to spill from his mouth.

Another, much longer, sigh left your throat as you tapped the answer button. Duty calls, you supposed. Surely whatever he wanted couldn't have been too hard for you to handle. "Hello?"

"(name)! My dearest lil' producer, hows ya day off? Doin' alright without me? Missin' my handsome face?" Rinnes voice was as smug and as loud as ever through the speaker, so much so that you found yourself pulling your phone away from your ear so you didn't go completely deaf.

His cheeky tone didn't go unnoticed by you, and you let out a scoff at his sheer childishness. "Fine, yes, and no. Don't butter me up, what do you want?"

"Straight to the point, I like that in a woman!" There was a laugh cut off by a loud cough and 'ahem', Niki most likely, before the man on the other end continued speaking. "Ah, well, ya see. HiMERU didn't show up to practice today, and he ain't answering when we call"

Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull you nearly saw your brain. Of course on the only day you had off in forever would be the day Rinne decided to come and give you an unskipable side quest. And for such a mundane task as well, something he could have easily done himself if he bothered to get off his ass. Seriously, how typical.

"We were hopin' ya could go and get 'im for us? Since ya know, yer the most wonderful producer in the whole world and ya love me so much"

"Sure I do... and why can't you go get him?"

"I got shit to do! Leader stuff, important stuff! Ya wouldn't understand. I'm real hard at work here-ow! Niki! Stop hittin' me dammit! That fuckin' hurt! Whatdaya mean 'don't cuss'? She ain't a baby!"

The line went silent for a few seconds, the only sounds going between the two of you being the muffled groans and slaps of Rinne and Niki fighting like toddlers. You swore you could also hear Kohakus sighs of disappointment from across the practice room.

It was a mintute or two before Rinne came back on the line, breathing heavier than usual and voice more strained. Niki 1, Rinne 0. "Got no time left ta talk! Go find that bastard and bring 'im back here, alright? I'm countin' on ya!"

"Wait, I never said I would-"

"Fuck! Shit! Niki, let go of my phone! No! Don't bite me!"

"(name)? Its Niki! I'll make you dinner if you go and get HiMERU-"

"NIKI!"

Click, line dead.

Your phone screen was now black, Rinnes smirking face replaced by your dumbfounded reflection staring back at you. Typical of you to become involved in Crazy:Bs shenanigans even when you weren't in the same room as them. That nap you had longed so gracelessly for was seemingly drifting further and further from your grasp, all thanks to the laziness of your idols. How wonderful

No use trying to escape your faith now, unless you wanted to endure the wrath of the group when they forgot the routine for the next live due to not practising at all. You did a 180 turn on your heels and began walking back in the direction of the dorms. When people asked what you did on your day off, maybe you could say you exercised?

/----------

"HiMERU? Are you in there? The guys want you at practice"

HiMERUs apartment door stared you down like a lion stalking its pray, mocking you like this was some sort of sick game. "Gonna come in?" It seemed to ask, or maybe that was just some voices in your head, "or are you just gonna stand there like a weirdo?"

You'd really outdone yourself this time. Half an hour later and you had searched half the school for the blue haired man. Before coming to his doorstep you had come to two different conclusions to his absence. Either, he had gained the ability to teleport and was somewhere on the moon, or, he had died and you had lost one of your best idols. The former, unlikely, but knowing the strange man HiMERU was it wasn't entirely impossible. The latter? You sure hoped not.

Despite your wishes of being able to go home and take a well deserved nap, you held your hand in a fist and knocked on the door once more, louder and harder this time. "I swear to God if you don't open this door I will break it down HiMERU! This is ridiculous! I could have been relaxing right now if it wasn't for you!"

As you spoke, there was a shuffling sound from inside the room, accompanied by a few soft thump-thumps of feet against the floor. Finally, the door opened, revealing the man you had been searching for.

"You are giving HiMERU a headache"

HiMERU stood before you in all his glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and a long sleeved shirt that due to the nature of his pants, showed off his mid-drift. Blue hair was a flattened mess atop his head, and you noted that he looked far less formal than usual. You had to mentally slap yourself before you stared for too long. "(name), you are aware you are not a wild animal, correct? HiMERUs door does not require barking to open"

"Practice, now. I don't care if you've got a headache or if you're in a mood, Rinne wants you there now" You ignored his snide remark, crossing your arms over your chest in attempt to look more authoritative. It didn't seem to work all that well, however, as HiMERUs facial expression remained unchanged.

"What if HiMERU had a lady friend over? Or perhaps a gentleman friend? Such loud noise would have disturbed imitate times with a special friend. What if HiMERU had been having some fun with his body?"

The urge to punch the man in front of you was stronger than ever before. Was he really trying to gaslight you into believing that he couldn't practice because he had been having sex? HiMERU of all people? You doubted he even had a dick, let alone someone to get it wet. Anyone else, sure, you could believe that. Not HiMERU, no matter how good looking the media made him out to be he was still a whackjob. Whackjobs didn't have sex.

"Were you?"

"No. HiMERU was reading a nice book and drinking some lovely herbal tea, he was simply making a point that you should be more considerate of others"

"I don't care-"

"You don't care about HiMERU? How crude, is this how CosPro treats its idols now? HiMERU will not be attending practice, he has other duty's to attend too"

The audacity of this man. Here you were, trying to be as nice as possible, just trying to get him to do his job, and he can't even do that! How much of an ego could one man have? Sure, you weren't perfect yourself, but at least you did what was expected of you, like right now even when you weren't meant to be working!

You could feel a vein pulsating in your forehead, your patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. If you had to stand here for any long, you swore you would explode in several tiny pieces. You had to keep your composer if you wanted to keep your job, however, so you chose to remain silent instead of ripping him a new one. You narrowed your eyes at him, shooting lazer beams through his body with your pupils, praying to whatever God was out there that it would scare him into listening to you.

HiMERU seemed to get the memo, finally, his lips forming into a massive pout that nearly hit the floor, a bad look on the usually stoic idol you noted. "As you wish, producer. Please, come inside and wait whilst HiMERU gets ready" He moved out of the way of the door, outstretching his arm in invitation for you to come inside.

You took the invitation, kicking your shoes off and bowing your head slightly as you walked inside. You had never been inside HiMERUs apartment before, besides on the off occasion when you dropped him off. Considering who HiMERU was, a prim and proper diva who seemed to think he was far better than you, you fully expected for his apartment to match his personality. Clean, neat, not a speck of dirt on the ground. Maybe a few plants here and there, real plants that were watered everyday and cared for to the full extent.

As you soon came to realise, you had been wrong. Dead wrong.

"Holy shit..."

HiMERUs apartment was the polar opposite of what you thought it would be. The lights were off, curtains pulled shut, and a musky smell of tea bags long gone cold lingered in the air. A messily made futon laid out in the middle of the floor, blankets and pillows thrown atop it like it was a fort for children rather than a grown mans bed. Finishing touches to the pigsty of a room were the dirty clothes scattered across the floor-some of which resembling his idol uniform, but you couldn't quite tell through the mess-and a book opened in the middle of the floor.

"HiMERU would prefer if you kept your opinions to yourself" His monotone voice hissed from behind you, a sigh evident in his words. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like, be careful not to trip on anything"

How could he be so relaxed? You'd been in many idols rooms before, seen many of them doing things you hadn't expected before, some of which made you want to bleach your eyes out thinking back at them. But none of them had ever been this messy, you didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or just stand there in shock.

"I... huh? Is it always like this?" You squeaked out, eyes trained on HiMERU as he walked past you and into the kitchen, picking up a mug from the counter and taking a long sip.

"No, not usually" He admitted, leaning down with his elbows against the countertop and staring at you with that unreadable expression of his. Dead cold blue eyes trailed up and down your figure, and you almost felt as if he were dissecting your soul. "Does it bother you? Are you offended? Does mess make you upset? Are you going to cry?"

"What? No!" You shook your head. "I'm just surprised is all"

"A crying woman in HiMERUs home, that would be a sight to behold, wouldn't it? Please, sit down, HiMERU will be ready in a moment"

You were at a complete loss for words. The longer you spent with HiMERU the more he confused you, like a never ending puzzle that only got harder the more you tired to solve it, or a board game where every round new rules that contradicted the old rules were added. Was there even a word to describe such a man? A person whose identity was so clouded and muddled it was impossible to grasp them?

Trying to guess what HiMERU was thinking about at any given time made you want to jump off a cliff, live, and then jump off another cliff for good measure. You were going to get Rinne back for this, he owed you big.

Taking a seat on the floor next to his futon, you crossed your legs over one another and watched as the blue haired man pottered around his dorm. He seemed to be moving in a daze, similar to a zombie or a sleepwalker. He would take a sip of tea for a moment, then stop to put away a dish, then drink some more tea, then inspect one of the plants on the counter, then back to his tea, repeat until you found yourself even further in bewilderment.

"You're weird" You commented, resting your chin on your knees and bouncing your heels up and down. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, (name)?" HiMERU raised an eyebrow, finishing off his tea and placing his mug in thesink, now moving to rummage through a pile of clothes.

"I don't know, like... drugged or something? Like a dead man walking? Stranger than usual I guess" Your eyes darted from him to the book laying on the ground. It was a normal looking book, white cover with some black writing on it, thick but still slim enough to be a causal read. "Do you like reading?"

A small laugh came from HiMERUs lips at the question. "That book is not very good. The information inside is not factual and rather silly, things about mediation and healing your inner child. An interesting read, but a waste of HiMERUS time. He does not believe in those things"

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows now. "Then why buy the book?"

"HiMERU has had a rough week, he wanted to indulge in some self-care. Alas, you and your begging interrupted him"

You had half a mind to snap at him for that comment, but you bit your own tongue before the insults could come pouring out, instead opting to obverse his actions. Having been in the industry for awhile, you were aware of the basic signs of burnout, and HiMERU was the poster child for it

Dark circles under his eyes, sluggish movement, a general state of being out-of-character, the sudden urge to skip training and sleep instead. It wasn't unusual for idols to suffer from fatigue and stress, it came with the job after all, but HiMERU had never been one to let his emotions get in the way of work. For him to be this out of it, it was concerning to say the least.

"Are you okay?"

HiMERU froze mid action, hands hovering over a t-shirt in the pile of clothes, staring at you like you'd just asked for a thousand dollars. "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you were okay, are you?" You stood up from your spot on the floor, brushing the dirt from your pants as you slowly approached him, snatching the book from the ground and reading over the blurb. "I didn't take you as the type to read these types of books, you must be really stressed to pick this up"

"Before you were yelling at HiMERU to go to practice, now you are acting concerned for him? HiMERU said, he has had a tough week, that is all"

"There has to be some way I can help you. Look, you don't have to go if you don't want to, I'll tell Rinne you were feeling ill" You opened up the book, scanning through the pages and reading over some of the content.

The language was a tad confusing, obviously made by someone with a higher knowledge in psychology than you, but it was still readable. "Some of this actually looks helpful, maybe we should try some of it? Like, I could give you a massage, or I could-"

"Turn to page 77, please"

You nodded, turning to the page in question. On top of the page were two separate drawings, one a diagram of a mans body and the other a sketch of a man and a woman in the classic missionary position. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment at the images, but continued on reading the page. Underneath the drawings were a few paragraphs of text, some certain words having arrows pointing to different parts of the pictures.

Taking a large gulp, you shut the book and looked back up at HiMERU, pupils wide as plates from what you just read. You noticed that he was closer now, only a few mere inches away from your body. Had be always been this tall, this handsome? You couldn't recall.

"HiMERU? I don't understand, these are pornographic, what are you talking about?-"

"Page 77, healing through sex. It says here that orgasms can be a natural stress reliever, and that regular intercourse is healthy for a persons body and mind" One hand came up to brush your cheek, thumb stroking up and down in a way that made your heart flutter, "You wish for HiMERU to go to practice, yes? Then he expects something in return"

His lips were on yours before you had time to blink. You dropped the book in your hands, it hitting the ground with a loud 'bang!' and laying open on page 77. Wet lips moved against your own, hand the once stroked your cheek now moving downwards to grip your waist, spinning the two of you around to press you against the countertop.

What little emotion HiMERU showed in his face, his kiss made up for. It was filled with desire, passion, lust, all the things that were so silent but still screamed the same three words. 'I want you'.

He pulled away before you had a chance to deepen the kiss, the both of you panting with your lips swollen and glossy with each other's saliva. A lewd sight, sure, but who else was there to see? No one, just the two of you in the dimly lit apartment.

"HiMERU-no, I need you to help me. Please, please help me" His voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. His desperation was all the same, however, and it was enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "I don't like to beg, you know, but you're making me lose it"

If you had have been standing on a tightrope, that would have been what broke the string holding you up. Those damn eyes, once filled like a endless void of indifference now spilling with want and need, the need for you to make him feel good, the need for you to relieve his tension by fucking him. How could you deny him?

"Let's move to the futon, yeah?" You pecked his lips once more, watching as his eyes lit up like a puppies. "We can take it slow, if you'd like"

The smile that overtook HiMERUs face almost made your heart burst wide open. "Yes... thank you, (name)"

You wiggled out of his hold, taking his hand and guiding him slowly to the futon on the floor. He sat down first, scooting backwards until he was sat just below the pillow, stretching his legs outwards to allow you to climb in between his legs and straddle him.

It was a position you never thought you'd find yourself in, and yet here you were, tugging at the hem of HiMERUs shirt and pulling it over his head. The skin underneath was pale and cold to the touch, causing goosebumps to creep up your arms. You ran your fingertips up and down his chest, lingering on the dip of his collarbone and the ridges of his ads. They were only little, like tiny hills on the plains of his over wise flat stomach, but they were sexy all the same.

HiMERU watched you with half-lidded eyes, glazed over and unfocused. His lips stayed parted, a whine leaving his throat each time your fingers traced over his skin. You leaned down to kiss him again, this time wasting no time in plunging your tongue straight inside the wetness of his mouth, sucking on his own tounge and feeling around on the inside of his cheeks.

HiMERUs hips buckled upwards to meet yours, earning a moan from you and a louder whine from him. His sweatpants strained with the growing budge in his crotch, poking against your thigh and leaving a small wet patch on your skin from the pre-cum leaking through. He must have been super desperate.

"(name)~" HiMERU whimpered as you pulled away, a sticky line of spit still connecting the two of you. You licked the excess saliva from your lips whilst a grin spread wide across your face. "Please, (name). HiMERU would you to-ah!-"

His pleas quickly transformed into moans as you rolled your hips against his, savouring in the pleasure of your clothed crotch rubbing on his now fully erect cock, The friction was like heaven, and the fabric of your shorts didn't do much to hide the wetness gushing out from your panties. You'd probably need to buy new ones after this, you thought, but that was a problem for future you.

HiMERUs hands flew up to hold your waist, guiding you backwards and forwards over his budge and rutting his hips in time with yours, the two of you humping like horny dogs in heat. A light pink flush had spread all the way from his cheeks to his ears, down his neck and even to the tips of his shoulder blades, the most sinful look of pleasure on his face as he threw his head back on the pillow.

"Do you like when I do this? You seem to be really enjoying yourself" You cooed, leaning down to suck a lovebite onto the underside of his jaw. "You're pretty, you know? Real pretty, real handsome for me"

The only response you got from HiMERU was another moan, louder and raspier than the others. The sounds made you clench around thin air and your thighs quiver with anticipation. Each time your core met his covered tip you could feel him twitch and throb beneath you, and every time the feeling had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Like an awaiting forest fire, the atmosphere was getting hotter by the second, the heat of both your body's pressed together creating a sensation indescribable.It was the most bliss you had ever experienced and you were yet to even be undressed. You were panting, HiMERU was panting, sweat was forming on your forehead and dripping down onto HiMERUS bare chest.

"More, HiMERU wants more" The man below you whined, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips to leave tiny marks for later. "HiMERU wants you to fuck him, don't make him-augh!-say it again!"

"Fuck.." You breathed, bracing yourself by placing your palms flat against his chest. You lifted your hips up, giving the both of you a short break to catch your breath before you reached downwards to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. With a tiny bit of a struggle they were off, revealing the dark blue boxers beneath that were nearly bursting from the strain of his erection. He was huge. Certainly bigger than you had seen in porn anyway. "I-, fuck"

Your loss for words assumed HiMERU, who took a deep, shaky exhale before speaking again, that desperate tone still clear as day in his voice. "Are you impressed? Is HiMERU that big?"

"Yeah... it is. I can't wait to have it inside me"

You purred out your words, moving down to rest on his thighs rather than his hips, your face in eye-line with his throbbing budge when you leaned down. The entire front of the fabric was wet with pre-cum, it having spread all over the area due to his impossibly long length. Your lips came into contact with the tip, your tongue swirling around and lapping up the sticky stains.

It pulsated at your touch. HiMERU let out a groan of pleasure as you continued your ministrations, kissing, licking, and sucking him through the thin cotton. One vein that you could feel was particularly sensitive, causing HiMERU to basically jump each time you grazed your teeth over it.

"Wait! No, stop! HiMERU will cum if you keep doing that!" The bluenette suddenly cired out, his legs kicking you in the sides as he tired to pull you off. Of course, you obliged, but not without giving one last farewell lick to his tip. You sat up on his thighs and tilted your head to the side, studying his expressions carefully and awaiting his next words. "HiMERU would like to cum inside. He thinks that would be the best way to get rid of his stress, not finishing in his pants like a pathetic teenage boy"

You nodded, "so you want me to...?"

"Sit on it" You'd never seen HiMERUs puppy dog eyes until now. There was such a longing in them, desires hidden in the ocean of his irises that only you could bring out in the moment. "Ride HiMERU, use him like a chair. HiMERU just wants to feel you"

Denying him would be a criminal felony. Climbing back to straddle his hips once more, you grabbed a hold of his waistband, gently pulling it downwards to finally free his cock from its confinements. Once the fabric was completely removed and his cock had sprung free you tossed the underwear away somewhere in the room to be dealt with later.

To say the least, HiMERU was large. Slender, and long, with balls that were tight and full against his shaft, pent up and waiting to be emptied inside your cunt.

The vein you had been nibbling on was a blue colour that rivalled his hair and ran down and up the underside of his cock, stopping just below his head. Speaking of the head, it was glowing red, dripping with arousal. You were pround of yourself for having caused that kind of reaction, especially when it came from an idol you knew as emotionless and cold hearted. Your own heart pounded inside your ribcage as you began to strip yourself down. You tired to make a show of it, pulling your shirt over your head in slow movements that you prayed to God looked seductive rather than silly.

As if he could read your mind, "You look beautiful" HiMERU barely whispered the words, but they were still heard all the same by you. You thought he might be staring at your breasts, or at the spot between your legs as you removed your shorts and panties, but no. Instead of your body, his blue gaze was solely fixated on your face.

"Thank you, you are too. Beautiful, I mean" A small smile graced your face as you thanked him. With your shorts now gone and your pussy exposed to the air, you lifted your hips once more, slinging your entrance with the very tip of HiMERUS cock. "Are you ready?"

"HiMERU has been called many things before when he has been stressed. Annoying. Selfish. A nuisance. Never beautiful"

You didn't have much time to respond, or even react to his comment before a hand was on your shoulder, pushing you down and impaling you on his cock. It hurt, but not in the way that made you want to scream and cry, but more so in the way that made your walls clench around him, your eyes roll into the back of your head and your toes curl in your socks.

He filled you up to the brim, tip poking against your cervix and each vein and ridge moulding your walls into the prefect fit for him. A raspy whimper left your throat as you adjusted to his size. HiMERU allowed you to take your time despite the twitch of his hips just begging for any sort of friction, instead opting to rub gentle shapes into your shoulders while the both of you huffed and heaved.

"HiMERU is sorry, he couldn't help himself" HiMERUs lust clouded eyes avoided your own, staring at the wall behind you instead. "You won't judge HiMERU if he finishes early, will you?"

You shook your head, grinding down on his pelvis to give him and yourself some of that desperately needed pleasure. "Not at all. You're amazing, so good. You fill me so well, I don't think I'll last long either. And even if we don't, we can always go again"

A faint nod from HiMERU was all you needed before you lifted your hips, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself as you released him from your velvet walls, leaving only the tiniest amount of the tip in before slamming your hips back down. A loud "plop!" was made as your body smashed against his, the heat from your shared arousals filling your brain with no thoughts other than HiMERU.

HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU!

You set a gentle, but fast pace, bouncing your hips up and down in smooth rhythm, sounds of your wet cunt squelching and sloshing mixing in with the groans leaving HiMERUs lips. Him inside you felt like heaven. Hot and sweaty heaven. Your walls dragged along his cock like the prefect fleshlight, sending waves of electrical pleasure down his spine and all the way to the very tips of his toes.

Althought a little bit more stable, you were in a similar state to HiMERU. Each time you slammed back down onto him it felt as if all the nerves in your body were being twisted, pulled, and knotted in a way that had that oh so familiar warmth beginning to pool in your belly.

Praises spilled from your mouth, coating the inside of HiMERUs brain with words of encouragement and affection rather than whatever he had been feeling before. Right now, in this moment, you would have been lying if you said you didn't care for him, and not just in the way you would care for the other idols of Crazy:B.

One particularly hard bounce had you crying out, "HiMERU! H-hey, you know your a good boy right? So good to me, gonna make me cum, huh? You wanna cum too? I wanna see your pretty face when you're filling me up"

HiMERU only grunted in response, but you could tell your words had worked when he started thrusting his hips to meet yours. You could tell he was close, too, his eyes had become so dilated that his irises were only a thin string of blue around his pupils.

You felt bad for his neighbours, no, actually, you felt bad for anyone within 10ft of the building. The walls of the apartment were basically shaking from the sheer noise of you both, and what happened next didn't help that much.

HiMERU gripped your hips, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, then pulled you flush against him. Chest to chest, skin to skin, you were as close as two people could possibly be as your lips found his in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Your teeth clashed together in an ugly way, tongues went anywhere but where they were supposed to and if your younger self could see you now, she'd probably throw up at how your saliva dissolved into each others.

"(name!)"

"HiMERU!"

You weren't sure who came first, or even how long the two of you spent whining and moaning into each others mouths, but you felt HiMERUs seed filling you up, dripping out of you and for sure staining the futon. Your own orgasm washed over you like a wave, a tsunami wave that destroyed cities and uprooted trees, leaving you breathless and trembling atop HiMERU.

It took you a few mintutes to come down from your high, since your vision was clouded with white spots and you could almost feel the tiny sperm cells swimming around trying to reach your uterus. Thank God you were on the pill, over wise you would have been in deep shit. One day, maybe, if whatever just happened was to happen again, but that wasn't something you liked to think about.

"Are you alright?" You whispered as you pulled yourself off of HiMERUs now softening cock, laying down on your side besides him. "How do you feel?"

The man in question seemed to be in a daze, staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his eyes. You poked his cheek with a finger, quickly jolting him back to reality as a smile tugged at his lips.

"HiMERU feels good, thank you" The smile on his face was genuine. Sometimes you questioned whether HiMERU was real or not, whether his personality was as fake as your gut told you it was. Here, you could see how your gut was wrong. That smile was real, this feeling was real. "HiMERU feels he should get stressed out more often, no?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your bare chest, "Don't push it, I won't help you if your doing it intentionally!"

"Then a date? HiMERU will pay, all you will need to do is be pretty for him"

You smiled back at him, "I'd love too"

You spent awhile on that futon, just chatting and staring into each others eyes like any old couple would do. When you did leave, it wasn't without a goodbye kiss and a promise to meet up again soon.

And, you would've let Rinne off the hook for making you go over there in the first place, if it wasn't for the message you received later that night.

Rinne: what position he put u in??

[thankssteveditko]

About Marvel's timeline

Here's something else important to keep in mind as I made my way through these comics: the way Marvel handles its timeline.

Marvel's comics have always been set in a fictionalized version of the present day real world that just so happens to also have superheroes and aliens and magic and whatnot. They've never been shy about referencing real world events or pop culture to ground the comics in our reality. The first ever Spider-Man story mentioned that he should go on The Ed Sullivan Show. Iron Man's classic origin story involves the Vietnam War. In the far, far future, I'm gonna have to cover the infamous 9/11 issue of Spider-Man where Marvel's heroes AND villains mourn at Ground Zero.

Marvel's main universe has also never had a true full-on reboot. They'll do their big dumb crossover events that Change Everything Forever™, sure. (God, I am not looking forward to having to worry about crossover events.) But, like... the stuff that came before still happened, for the most part.

So, combine these two facts, and you've got 60+ years of comics referencing then-current events that are basically all still in continuity... but the characters haven't aged 60 years. Things operate on a floating timeline - or a "sliding timescale," as Marvel seems to prefer. But unlike, say, The Simpsons, where the characters never age, some time HAS passed for Marvel's cast! Spider-Man isn't 17 forever, he's grown up over the course of the series. There's of course some timey-wimey nonsense that was invented decades later to explain this bizarre chronology, but basically, the characters get a year older about once every four real world years.

So, long story short: those 60+ years of comics get compressed to about, say, 15 years of in-universe history.

What of all the topical references, then? Just... don't think about it too hard. Marvel continuity supernerds will tell you those aren't supposed to be literal, and most get retconned out with enough time. (A few years back they invented a fictional all-purpose southeast Asian war that can perpetually be pulled forward with the sliding timescale, to replace outdated references to the Vietnam War and the Korean War.) If you go on the Marvel wiki and try to edit references to real world history into a character's biography they'll bust your fuckin' kneecaps.

On the other hand: it's funnier if you take them literally. So as we go through these early Spider-Man comics where characters reference things like twist music, just remember that - at the time of writing this in 2023 - the events of those comics are now considered to be set in about 2008 or 2009.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

(Please don't apologize. You may call it pessimism but I see it as realism and I truly appreciate it. I've seen people SO excited to see the cast back this week and all the excitement about the new season, optimism for canon buddie, what hair/tattoos/wardrobe might look like. And I feel bad because I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. But I cannot be bothered about whether Oliver will keep his fluffy hair or have any new tattoos or Ryan's mustache because I don't want another season of boring, repetitious storylines that don't do anything to the characters, especially those of color (thinking of the cartel and Mara right now)

I'm hopeful that because season 8 will be a full 18 episodes things won't have to be as rushed or thrown together at the last minute as season 7. But yeah, please don't apologize for your opinions because you're not the only one thinking similar thoughts <3)

im moreso apologetic because i dont WANT to be a debbie downer but its like…. ive been burned by shows (this one included) far too many times to be super optimistic and excited over things that could very potentially not be good for us… like i’ve said, most of the people i know with that mustache are awful human beings and when you add in the fact that gerrard also has a mustache like that AND that tim has been showing so little care for eddie as a character/care for poc characters as a whole it doesn’t seem far fetched to me that tim could very easily commit one of the most egregious acts of character death by veering eddie so far off the natural path simply to create cheap drama

like im so glad we seem to be getting fluffy hair buck… unfortunately fluffy hair buck doesn’t negate the fact that he’s currently in a relationship with a racist and that they’re ignoring 6 years of subtext built between he and eddie to try and further reiterate their “totally platonic dude bro” relationship, on top of giving eddie a look that exudes macho straight republican man…

(and don’t get me started on the fucking cartel plot or the mara plot bc what the actual fuck is wrong with tim minear 💀💀)

i just want them to stop dragging their feet on buddie while seemingly writing everything else as this whirlwind of convoluted messy nonsense drama plots and actually decided if they’re gonna commit to just ship/queerbaiting or to the subtext and plot theyve infused into the story since eddie’s literal first episode.

like personal feelings aside for the mustache, i think we’re giving the writers too much faith in portrayal of queer characters to actually say that it’s eddie “embracing queer culture” simply bc it looks like eddie mercury… we’re talking about the same writers who gave the main wlw couple a cheating plotline, have boiled down buck’s sexuality to just sex, and have relied on playing into stereotypes of mlm/wlw side characters rather thsn actually putting time and thought into it… like it’d be one thing to say “it’s a nod to freddie mercury” if the show has actually shown any kind of care beyond using sexuality plotlines for cheap drama (henren) but the reality is that they haven’t shown us that we can trust them in that way yet.

and who knows maybe it IS a nod to freddie mercury, but we don’t know for sure and im not going to set myself uo to be disappointed yet again when its just as likely to be s nod to them making eddie an antagonistic character with gerrard… yeah, that plot wouldn’t make sense for eddie as a character but neither did the vertigo plot so who’s to say tim wouldn’t go for it?

at the end of the day, i am just not looking forward to s8. nothing yet has given me any inclination to actually watch it until we are shown that they are making strides to actually tell a meaningful story that doesn’t rely on minorities for tokenism plots or putting them through needless pain again. yes this show is a drama, but there are other ways you can create drama (hell it’s a show about first responders) than putting poc characters through the fucking wringer time and time again, profiting off their pain, while simultaneously telling lowkey racist stories that involve the fucking cartel coming out of nowhere to burn down a LA fire captain’s house???

so yeah, i’m just not feeling great about it. i also don’t wanna rain on anyone’s parade but i don’t wanna get my own hopes up when i would just be setting myself up to be let down yet again by these writers

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

When the cat's away...

Peter B. Parker x Blackcat!reader

description - Peter B. Parker didn't end up at MJ's house that night. Instead he found his way into the arms of the woman he never thought he could have until the multiverse showed him differently.

Or

Miles shows up to the spider society and finds Peter in the arms of someone who is definitely not MJ

warnings - babies, sexual innuendo, brief angst, SPOILERS for across the spiderverse, Miguel being Miguel.

word count - 1.7k

authors note - I have found a new character to write about! I mean I loved Peter B in Into the Spiderverse but then I recently watched Across the Spiderverse and something about seeing him with Mayday just ignited that love again. Also hears to me finding another cartoon baby to obsess over!

Masterlist

Requests open - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I watched from the rafters. Perched so precise. Peter had promised he wouldn’t take Mayday to work anymore, it wasn’t a safe environment for a child. And since he hadn’t caught me with her at the spider society yet, I still had the moral high ground.

“Don’t be too hard on the kid, Miguel. He had a terrible teacher.” Peter swung in and was wearing…oh god. He’d stolen my robe, again. But I couldn’t be too hard on him, he did look so sexy in it. Just something about seeing him so domestic that really got me going.

Peter and Miles hugged each other, having not seen one another in months. They continually talked over the other, having so much to say, before Miles took note of the baby carrier Peter wore so stylishly. His suspicions were confirmed when Mayday swung into the scene, giggling so beautifully.

“You have a baby?”

“I have a baby!”

“Don’t forget to keep your little day pass on honey.” He then spotted the one Miles sported. “You have one too? I didn’t know they made them for adults?”

I watched her in awe until she latched onto the wall and began to crawl up to where she saw me, babbling ‘mama, mama’. Peter swung after her, moaning about how he shouldn’t have made her that web shooter. We thought it was a good idea at the time!

He put her back in the carrier. “I shouldn’t have made her that, that was an actual parenting mistake.” But because he forgot he was upside down; our little angel fell right out. I giggled to myself just watching the goofball, I got to call my husband.

I squirmed up further into the dark, not wanting Peter to see me just yet. What? I’m a sucker for a dramatic entrance.

“You guys want to see pictures!” That was when I zoned out. I mean I loved Mayday so much and I took a lot of pictures, but my definition of a lot cowered in the face of Peter’s amount of photos. “Oh my god, Miguel’s gonna die!” He swung back over to the stoic fang man, as I liked to call him.

“Miguel, look at this one.”

“I’m trying to hold a serious, adult conversation.” Yet the sight of Mayday crawling all over him whilst babbling nonsense, was a nice juxtaposition to his stern demeanour.

“You’re the only spiderman who isn’t funny, we’re supposed to be funny.” He’s not wrong there, well, at least my spiderman is funny!

“The fate of the multiverse—”

“You always lose me with that. You say the fate of the multiverse and my brain dies.” Miguel handed Mayday back to Peter after she had unceremoniously fallen into his arms whilst Peter was talking.

“You smell that? Mayday took a crap.” Peter swung back to Miles, Gwen and Hobie and made a makeshift changing table out of web.

“So did MJ take you back or?” Miles questioned.

“Well-not exac—” He then smelt Mayday’s diaper. “Yep, she’s a Parker. That’s what happens when a Parker eats an avocado.”

“And yet I still married one.” I attached one of my hooks and allowed myself to be lowered down in front of Miguel’s pretentious staircase.

“Wow.” All 3 teens exclaimed at the same time. I strutted forward clad in my costume. God, it had been a long time since I’d had it on, but it felt so good. It made me feel strong and powerful. Even the ice blonde wig of curls, (that always appeared every time I put on the black cat suit for some reason), fell down my back and flicked with each step. My heeled boots clicked as I walked. Some people *cough Miguel cough* may think they’re impractical for fighting but I guess you just have to be an amazing fighter to pull them off.

“Miles meet my wife, y/n Parker. Or. The Black Cat.”

“Hobie, Gwen, good to see you again. Miles, it’s so great to meet you! Peter talks about you constantly.” I embraced him tightly.

I jumped over to Hobie and spider punk lifted me up into his arms.

“How’s my favourite vigilante!”

“I’m doing good how are you.”

“Still taking a crap on the establishment.”

“I’d like to help you.”

“I will take you up on that.” And he slipped a bunch on junk into my pocket. I didn’t understand but when it came to Hobie, I knew I eventually would.

“I don’t think ‘constantly’ is the most accurate word –“ Peter interrupted. He never liked seeing me with Hobie. He made him insecure, but I would assure him he was cool in his own way.

“Did you or did you not say to me last night ‘I miss Miles so much more with each passing day.’”

“I wouldn’t say in those words—”

“No. those were you’re exact words.” I had walked over to him when I began speaking.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He brought me into him in a bruising kiss.

“I thought you weren’t working today?” As he spoke, Mayday recognised my presence and began to whine loudly for me to pick her up. Which I did happily.

“Well, I woke up and my baby wasn’t in her crib? How weird?” I bounced Mayday up and down in my arms and she shrieked excitedly with each new movement.

“Wait, you’re not a spider-person?” Miles suddenly questioned.

“God no! I couldn’t think of anything wo—” I trailed off when I looked around at the disapproving faces.

“I mean no, I’m a black cat. We’re in every spider’s universe in some respect. In everyone we’re in love with Peter Parker. He only loves us back in a few.” I looked back to find my husband already gazing back at me. Both of us might as well have had little hearts in our eyes.

I unleashed the claws from my gloves. “See, no web. Just claws.” Mayday clapped when I did that. “You like that baby? You like mummy’s powers!” I threw a hook with a line attached to it onto Miguel’s consoles. “But I did have to get these to keep up with you people and your webs.” I swung on the line and dropped gracefully, close to Miguel, just to annoy him.

“Yeah, but those claws are no joke one time we were in the middle of—” “Peter!” I scolded him. Peter then whispered to Miles “I ended up having to get stitches down my back.” Miles grimaced when he realised the context. Miles then continued his previous thought.

“I meant if you’re not a spider-person how did you get a pass? You’re not even a spider and you got a pass before me!”

“I felt with her skills and expertise she would be—”

“Don’t lie Miguel. I stole the bracelet off of you and you can’t get it back from me.”

“It was my choice to let you keep it.” I waited a beat before gesturing to Miles that it really wasn’t.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 Miguel was explaining canon events to Miles and was showing all the spider-people the most horrific moments from their lives. When the Uncle Ben scene was shown I cradled my husband’s head in my neck to shield him from the other’s eyes. Mayday didn’t understand what was going on but had fallen silent when she had felt the sadness in her father’s body.

I zoned out of Miguel and Miles’ argument. I knew their plan and I knew about Miles. He didn’t deserve this, any of this. He was a good kid; I knew this because Peter told me he was good and I believe him. I focused only on my husband and my daughter. My daughter more so, so she didn’t have to be exposed to the fight that I felt was about to break out.

I bounced Mayday up and down and cooed to her as Peter explained to Miles that if Uncle Ben hadn’t died, many of them would’ve never become who they were meant to be and the lives they had saved would be gone.

Miles began to get more agitated when he realised, they were all asking him to let his father die. I scoffed to myself. They really expected this to work. It was hardly a sound argument.

“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.” Suddenly, Miguel had trapped Miles. Woah. This was too far.

“Miguel that’s not funny! Let him go right now.” I held Mayday into my chest to shield her from her mummy’s harsh words.

“You don’t scare me.”

“I think we both know I do.” He turned away from me. I knew it.

Miles was panicking in the box as the audience around him screamed and argued. I was still holding Mayday as Peter had stern words with Miguel. Hobie winked at me and gestured me to come over. I saw what he was looking at, which were the little sparks coming from Miles’ fingertips. I showed Miles what he was doing wrong and laid my palm flat in front of me, as the other held Mayday’s bum up. Miles righted his hands and the electricity bubbled up. I smirked.

The cage erupted around him. The spider-people began to organise under Miguel’s command to seize Miles. A portal opened up behind Hobie.

“For the record. I quit.” He sauntered in backwards. That was my queue.

“Well, I gotta head.”

“You’re going?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah.”

“So, you just came to annoy Miguel and show Miles how to escape?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“God. I love you so much!” He kissed me hard. I handed Mayday back to her Daddy and she happily complied.

“Get a picture of her first chase?”

“You got it.” He pulled down her knitted spiderman beanie and took off. I opened up another portal.

“DO YOU WANT CHICKEN OR FISH TONIGHT?”

“CHICKEN PLEASE, HONEY!” My husband shouted back as he swung off with my baby in his baby carrier ready to save a 15-year-old spider-kid from a million other spider-people. Because that’s a totally normal sentence to say.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Bit different from my usual stuff but this just randomly popped into my head!

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Heyya, here's my attempt at prompting ahem :D

WangXian + Mafia AU

Or

WangXian + Anniversary Date

Thanks for sending in a prompt! I went with Mafia AU, established relationship where Lan Wangji is a policeman because Lan Wangji throwing away his morals/breaking rules for Wei Wuxian is my favourite thing.

***

Wei Wuxian rocked slightly on the chair, trying to get a peek through the two way mirror that only worked one way. As though through sheer willpower alone, he'd be able to see the man on the other side. They really needed to stop meeting like this. With nothing better to do, Wei Wuxian began to count the times he'd sat in this very chair. He was still twiddling his fingers when the door was unlatched and pushed open.

Immediately he looked up, 'Lan Zhan!' he cried out happily.

'Wei Ying.' Lan Zhan apparently did not share his enthusiasm.

Rather than indulging him in conversation, Lan Wangji set up the recorder and opened his notebook to a clean page. He clicked his pen and angled it with such precision, prepared to complete the most elaborate calligraphy, not write a perfunctory account of Wei Wuxian's current porn empire.

'Where have you been printing the offensive materials?'

'In Gusu, have you seen them?' Wei Wuxian smirked, teasing Lan Zhan was his favourite sport in the whole world.

Lan Wangji frowned, 'Answer the questions more seriously.'

'Ask better questions then.'

A sigh then, 'Who is your accomplice?'

Now it was Wei Wuxian's turn to frown. He already knew it was Nie Huaisang. They'd been peddling uncensored pornography for months, Wei Wuxian had funded it all through his security business.

'Don't need one.'

Wei Wuxian leaned in to better watch Lan Wangji write some nonsense about the Jiang family. The tape recorder continued to make a whirring sound, but upon closer inspection, there was no tape.

If Lan Wangji already planned to cover up for him, Wei Wuxian figured there was no point in maintaining such a formal manner.

'Ask me something exciting. If you squint, this really isn't that far removed from speed dating.'

'It's not a date,' Lan Wangji said without pausing in his writing.

'It could be.' Wei Wuxian punctuated his sentence by inching his foot forward until it squeezed itself between Lan Wangji's.

Lan Wangji's back straightened at the contact, 'Shameless.'

He set his pen down and glared at Wei Wuxian, in response, Wei Wuxian worried his bottom lip between his teeth, hoping it gave the illusion he held some concerns over how the night would end.

'You wouldn't let them send me to prison, would you?' Wei Wuxian reached forward to take Lan Wangji's notebook.

'Why would you go to prison. This is clearly the work of Jiang Cheng.'

Wei Wuxian wanted to burst out laughing. The idea that his stoic, law abiding, adopted brother would be able to run an underground porn studio was too much. He'd love to be a fly on the wall the day the police came calling. He wondered whether he'd be pushing his luck one step too far by asking Lan Wangji to wear a wire and let him hide in the back of his car.

After a few more dull questions about his alibi, Lan Wangji announced he was free to go. Wei Wuxian stood and stretched his back. In his familiarity, he forgot himself for a moment and went to open the door himself. He paused his fingers inched from the handle.

'Will I see you tonight?'

'Mhn.'

Lan Wangji reached around Wei Wuxian's waist to open the door, the other hand pulled him into a slight embrace as Lan Wangji reset their positions. Now he was the one in front, eager to lead Wei Wuxian out of the station.

[thetriumphantpanda]

Saw you were taking prompts again, how about Javi G and "I don't have time for distractions right now." Please and thank you

ANY opportunity to write for Javi G is alright with me, I love this man with every fibre of my being - thanks for sending in this prompt request.

I'm still accepting prompt requests, check this post and send me any you want to see!

Pairing | Javi Gutierrez x writer F!Reader

Word Count | 1k

Warnings | Javi being a diligent lover, oral sex (F receiving) but nothing else.

The warmth of the Spanish sun and the sounds of the ocean licking at the walls below you had done wonders for your writer’s block. The deadline for the first draft of your book was due in just a few days and although the invite from your lover Javi to join him at his mansion had been a welcome one, he was far too distracting for you at this moment in time. 

For the past week he’d tempted you away from your laptop with expensive champagne, dinners on the balcony that spread into the late evening and then long nights spent wrapped up in the sheets together. You couldn’t deny you were having fun, you truly were, but your advance payment depended on this first draft, and you couldn’t afford anymore distractions. 

Almost like he could read your mind, Javi appears behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. He presses them down, you hadn’t realized you’d tensed them up so much, and begins rubbing his thumbs with a delicious pressure that has your neck rolling to one side and a relieved groan falling from your lips. 

“Stressed, mi amor?” He speaks lowly as his hands continue their impromptu massage. 

“I need three thousand more words to reach the required threshold and I need them by tomorrow,” You groaned, throwing your head back to rest against his stomach, “I’m doomed.” 

He chuckles, stilling the pressure of his hands to dip his head to your neck, placing chaste kisses that has your arousal pooling in your lower belly almost immediately. 

“Javi,” Another groan, this time tainted with lust, “I don’t have time for distractions right now.” 

“Who said anything about distractions, dulce niña?” You did love it when his affections for you fell out in Spanish, “Scoot your chair out a little for me.” 

Without thinking, you did exactly what he asked, the chair scraping back slightly, leaving room between the table and your chair, enough for him to slide his body in front of you and drop to his knees. 

He slowly worked the material of your dress up to bunch in your lap, using his mouth to press kisses to your exposed leg, all the way from your knee to the top of your thigh. You knew exactly what he was doing, your legs widening of their own volition at the ministrations of his mouth on your skin. 

“Ah, ah,” Your head shoots down as his fingers grip your thigh, “You have to write, or I’ll leave.” 

A groan of frustration leaves your lips, you didn’t like this side of Javi. You preferred him pliant and agreeable, the man who would hang the moon if you asked, the man who looks up at you with pleading eyes when he’s begging to cum on your tongue when you’ve edged him for too long, not the man calling the shots between your thighs right now. 

Your hands fly to the laptop on the table, trying to remember the pivotal moment your characters were at when you left them, reading the last few lines as you shift your hips forward in the chair slightly, allowing the skirt of your dress to settle enough to reveal your aching pussy to Javi’s face. 

Your fingers start typing, no doubt writing absolute nonsense, and you’re rewarded by Javi licking a firm strip with his tongue along the seam of your pussy. You test the waters, stilling your hands from typing and his face moves from you, far enough away that you can’t feel his breath on your skin any longer. You let out a frustrated groan but go back to doing as you were told, diligently typing away. 

Javi’s hands spread your pussy this time and he does the same motion with his tongue as before but this time the spread of your pussy meant his tongue teased across your clit, causing a buck of your hips and a ragged moan. You could feel him chuckling into your skin as his tongue focused exactly where he knew you liked it. 

He was flicking the tip of his tongue softly against your clit, his hands were gripping into the meat of your thighs, and you were desperately trying to move closer to him, needing more pressure. You couldn’t handle this teasing. 

“Javi please,” You begged, one hand moving to fist your fingers into his hair, “Stop teasing me.” 

He moved away from you just enough to speak, “Get back to writing and I’ll give you exactly what you want, querida.” 

You took a deep breath and tried to ground yourself, eyes looking into your screen with your fingers flying across the keyboard, writing anything that came to your mind first. You were rewarded with Javi’s lips locking around your clit and sucking. An indecent moan fell from your lips as he began switching between teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue and sucking in earnest. 

Sweat was pooling along your skin and the ability to type was becoming almost non-existent, so you opted for just slamming your fingers across the keyboard to convince Javi you were working. Damn him and the extra editing he was going to cause you. 

“Javi, please…” You whimpered, “Fingers, inside me, I’m so close.”

He obliged, slipping two of his fingers inside you with ease, the slick of your pussy making a delicious friction as he pumped them in and out of you. You could feel your orgasm gathering inside of you and once Javi curled his fingers inside of you, continuing the movements of his tongue on your clit, it was slamming into you with full force. 

Your hands flew to his hair, abandoning your work, as your thighs squeezed around his face, and you called out his name into the hot evening air. His mouth worked you through your orgasm, licking softly as you shook through the aftershocks before he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thigh. 

He stands in front of you and places one solid kiss to your forehead before walking away, throwing over his shoulder as he leaves, “One thousand words and we can have dinner.” 

[xxshift4teamcapxx]

From how this looks so far, should this be a short fic or series???

A/n - I guess this counts as a sneak peak of the snowjanus idea I had. Idk how this shit works tbh I just write stuff. Divider by @benkeibear

A new face stands next to the dean, fading the chatter of the classroom. Casca Highbottom. Also known as the drunk idiot that allowed the annual hunger games to be created. His regular bottle of morphling left his lips freshly glossed. He hushed the room of seniors and waited for them to quiet down. Placing a reassuring hand to their elbow, beckoning an unfamiliar girl forward to introduce her to her new peers. 

“Class, let me introduce you to the newest member of the capital's most prestigious academy. Y/n L/n,” The small man slurs slightly and nods at the mutters that fill his classroom. “I see some of you recognize the surname. Her mother was the one to create most of the hospitals and medical research facilities in all of panem. Helped heal a lot of people, cured an abundance of diseases. A true hero she was.”

The girl smiled shyly. Greatful for the praise her mother received even after death had taken her from the world that needed her so dearly. As she made her way up to her seat, next to Palmyra Monty, she caught a pair of chocolate orbs filled with wonder staring at her. Intrigued by the ethereal girl walking by them to go sit down, so their first class of the day can begin. 

Sejanus Plinth smiles teasingly at his new peer over his shoulder and turns back to the front of the class. “Cute…” He mumbles to himself, though his blonde ‘friend’ sitting next to him doesn’t miss it. Shaking his head at the district boys nonsense. 

Coriolanus Snow couldn’t be bothered to deal with romantic affairs like everyone else, but he wasn’t blind. He could see how much eye candy you were compared to most. Even the ladies were getting a little distracted as you minded your business through out the day. 

A few days later it had gotten around the school that underneath the school’s modest, crimson fabric you were hiding quite the set of curves. Some of which made Arachne Crane, the senior class resident big mouth, green with obvious jealousy as she gossiped to the lunch table the boys’ so called friend group sat at. “I don’t get what you all see in her. Can someone please enlighten me on the clues I’m missing?” 

She exasperated, with a frustrated huff. She was seriously letting her vanity get the best of her. And all from some new girl nobody knew anything about. Poor thing wouldn’t last two seconds in university with that kind of insecurity. Clemensia rolls her eyes at her bestie, “She’s an actually good person and is hot. I don’t get what your not getting.” Setting her head in her palm as she watched the brunette sneer at your smiling form. Unaware. Unbothered.

“Oh, please. I bet she bought that face with that will she got from her mother. Pretty sure she’d have some connections from family friends. Hell, probably got the butt lift and boob job on discount. There’s no way someone can be naturally that sculpted. Only celebrities and new mothers can have hips like that." Arachne folds her arms like a grumpy toddler that isn’t getting their way. 

“So you’ve seen?” Comes Festus’ excited voice. He’d been flirting with the new girl since he could get the chance. Well he flirted with all of the girls, he was a known creep that got away with most things because of who his father was.

“All the girls have and she’s right. That girl is thicker than a bowl of oatmeal on an early Monday morning. I swear, she’s making a lot of people in the locker rooms question their sexualities. I don’t think I can handle seeing those gym shorts on her anymore.” Juno groans into her palms, earning a pat from Felix chuckling next to her.

“Well, I hear she goes to the gym not to far from here. Could just have a really good routine and… don’t kill me for thinking out loud here. Maybe she’s just that hot and you can’t handle it, Arrie. Everybody likes her except for you.” Persephone Price tuts nonchalantly. Too busy enjoying the fruit she’d gotten with her lunch to worry about her bratty friend.

Coryo turns to look behind him with an annoyed Sejanus. Leaning on the tanned boy as they watched you whisper with your friends. A huge, bright smile written across your face that mimicked the sun. Most of your chosen peers participated in some sort of artistic after school program. You had a type for creative minds they noticed. “Jeez, can you guys say one thing that’s not objectifying that poor girl? If I were her, I wouldn’t give any of you freaks the time of day.” Sej whines to the people around him. Not liking the things being said about you behind your back.

His mother would have him by his ear if he ever said such things about a young lady. Though he couldn’t help but agree to himself with some words. You were gorgeous and he’s sure you were as fit as his peers made you out to be behind that baggy uniform. That didn’t mean he’d loose all respect for you as a person the second he just so happened to notice your body looks a little more mature than most girls your age. He’d look without an ounce of shame though. He was human after all.

“She could be a model.” Coriolanus shrugs. A sarcastic twang sliding off his tongue to make his friends eye twitch and roll. In his defense, he wasn’t lying.

Suddenly, Festus perks up from his drooling over you. Yanking Felix towards the rest of boys at the table as he begins to whisper. “Almost slipped my memory, but I’m paying for another night of drinks with the boys. There’s this club downtown we’re gonna sneak into. Y’two should come. Take a break from your studies."

Coryo immediately shakes his head at the offer. Like hell he was gonna get caught shitfaced with all of these idiots. He had a reputation to uphold. Sejanus on the other hand disagrees for more innocent reasons. Him? At a club with alcohol, drugs, and half naked women everywhere. Nope. He was raised better then that. Again, Ma would take his goddamn life for even thinking about associating with that kind of environment.

Festus shakes his head at the pair of goody two shoes. Having expected them to say no to their night out. “You guys are no fun. I mean c’mon, you got laid last time we went out together, Coryo. And I don’t think anybodys gonna forget that time Sej ran down the street in his underwear with that one girl. Why not just take some time to do something fun with the bros." Felix tries to convince them. Only to make them internally cringe from their inebriated shenanigans. Both of which were drunk dares they’d regretted the second they woke up the next morning. Head pounding and eyes sore from a heavy hangover.

They’d promised themselves to never get that drunk again in their entire lives. Sejanus ran his palms over his face. The memory of running around panem in his boxers with some random girl on his back making him huff in embarrassment. “You guys aren’t ever gonna let that go are you?” He groans, rubbing his temples that were already starting to ache.

Clemensia shakes her head ‘no’ with a shrug. Like it was obvious. They were capital after all. They thrived off of gossip. Coriolanus chuckled at his shameful expression, earning a shove from the boy that thought he was his friend. “Don’t laugh! You aren’t any better either! Do you even remember that girls name?!”

The blonde tsks at the question. Hiding the fact that he was equally, if not more ashamed of his behavior. He’d gotten a reputation as a player because of that instance. Adding yet another scuff to the Snow family name. “Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’ to emphasize his faux lack of interest.

He turns his gaze back to the rest of the boys, an irritated sigh leaving his pink lips. “You guys aren’t gonna leave us the hell alone until we agree. Are you?” Festus confirms his suspicion with the shake of his head. Forcing yet another frustrated sigh from Sejanus.

***

“I can’t believe you assholes got me to do this b.s.!” Sej anxiously hides his face as he follows his male classmates through the crowd of elite men and woman. All drinking and enjoying themselves as the showgirls danced around on platforms around them. He catches a few confused gazes towards them, probably wondering why a bunch of high school seniors were in a place like this. If his Ma found out about this, he doesn’t think his father can pay him out of the ass beating he was gonna get from it.

Coriolanus pats the tanned boy’s shoulder as they make their way up the stairs to the VIP section. While his friend was only here to get out of one of his father’s boring meetings, he was a different story. One that Sejanus knew all too well. He just wanted the food the establishment served. Having not eaten a proper dinner in a hot minute. His stomach craved something other than beans and the slop the school served during lunch.

They all get seated at their table. Ordering meals and drinks once a waitress got them settled in. Dressed up in a scantily tuxedo uniform specifically designed for the caterers of the club. Nothing near as revealing as the dancers, but enough to get that tip they charmed the patrons into giving. 

Everything is taken care of by Festus as promised. They enjoy the performance’s and play cards with each other. All’s great.

“Now, may I please ask for your undivided attention as we bring you our next performer,” Goes the clubs host over the speakers of the cabaret. “I present to you our youngest dancer to ever strut this marvelous stage. She’s just the cutest, she’s barely legal, but don’t let that innocent face fool you. I give you our precious, Babydoll!”

The music starts and the curtains draw back to reveal a girl in a nun costume. The boys pay her no mind as they continue their game of rummy. Until Festus has to do a double take back to her swaying form making her way through the tables. Then realization hits him in a way that makes him look at his glass of gin like it’d been spiked with something.

Urban Canville notices him and asks what his deal is. The starstruck boy just turns Urban’s head by the chin toward the dancer. His jaw dropping to the floor at the familiar face gyrating for the tables on the bottom floor. “There’s no fucking way…” He trails off. Gaining the attention of the rest of their table. They all lean in at once. A wave of shock taking over their bodies as the girls face registers in their intoxicated brains.

“Is that–“ Sej whispers to Coryo sitting next to him. He cut him off with a nod, none of them taking their eyes off of you making your way up the main stairs for performers only. “Y/n? No doubt about it."

You’d gotten rid of the robe covering the rest of your costume by now. Clad in a corset that almost lifts your breasts to your chin, ruffled panties, and a veil covering the under scarf that hides your (Hair texture) hair away. Your makeup done in a way that made you look so innocent and doll-like. Hence the stage name. It isn’t until you were right in front of your male peer’s table that you notice them. A confused expression crossing your painted face as you continue your routine. E/c eyes flicking between easily memorable faces eyeing you like candy. Before going back into character as quickly as you’d came out of it. Moving on to a new table.

“I’m not gonna be able to focus in class anymore after this.” Goes Hilarius Hevansbee, unable to take his gaze away from your ass as you bend for an older man sitting not far from the boys. Dennis Fling nods at his statement, equally as distracted by the swing of your hypnotic hips. “What is she doing here?” Florus Friend runs his fingers through the waves of his hair, pulling at the strands lightly in frustration. Clearly confused by your presence in such a scandalous place.

Coriolanus can’t ignore the pang of jealousy that slaps him in the face so suddenly. The urge to strangle everyone that looks at you so sinfully making it hard for him to keep himself together. He glances over to Sejanus. His hands clasped firmly over his mouth as his cheeks burn a bright red. His slightly drunken mind making his embarrassment more visible to anyone paying attention. He thinks his new classmate will think he’s a pervert. ‘There goes chances of even becoming friends with her.’ He can hear his voice drip with disappointment in his head.

As you prance back to the stage, ending your set, Festus gets an idea. The best idea in his humble opinion. Telling everyone he’ll be right back before scurrying off somewhere underneath the multicolored lights of the club. He comes back shortly after with a cheshire-like grin. Throwing back the rest of his drink before he speaks to the rest of the group.

“We’ve got a private room with a special someone in about an hour and a half. It’s for the rest of the night. So, prepare for the night of your preppy lives.”

***

The boys find themselves lounging in a comfy private room. Decorated with red silks and velvet like the rest of the luxurious club. They talk and drink amongst themselves as they wait for their entertainment to come and join them. 

And boy is she a sight for sore eyes. You step in wearing a cream colored silk robe. It hung low on your cleavage and stopped just before your bum. You had tiny pearls glued to the corners of your eyes with your new babydoll looking makeup. Matching pearl embellished heels that add a good foot to your height. It’s exactly what you looked like. A sexy doll. Too delicate and innocent to touch but tempting enough to do so anyway. A walking dangerous game.

“Who asked for me?” Is all you can muster. Sejanus catches the anger hidden under the professionalism in your e/c orbs. He just knows you would rather not be here as much as he does. Should’ve just went to that stupid meeting with his father.

The Creed son perks up. Raising a hand to grab your attention. “I did of course. Sorry, I just couldn’t let a fine woman such as yourself go without having a closer look at such artistic beauty you display.” There’s a slight frown. A blink and you’ll miss it moment. You’re not amused by the guy that’s been perving on you since you started your classes at the academy. Not one bit. He takes your hand and places a grimy kiss atop your knuckles. A sickly sweet smile trying to hide the disgust you have for him. “So,” You begin your charm. Sliding into his lap and making sure to keep him in your siren-like stare. “You’re the one that’s going to give me a nice hefty tip for compensation, right?”

He quirks a brow at the odd words. His drunken brain amused by your nonsensical question. “And what will I be compensating for?” He chuckles. Giddy smile growing when your hand makes contact with his chest. “Taking away my agency to choose. Of course.” You state simply. He, as well as the rest of your male classmates, frown at your answer. But before anything is said, you clarify, “You and I both know somebody in this room is going to tell someone at the academy about my employment here. And you also know academy students thrive off of the rumor mill. So, you’ll pay me good and I’ll make this worth your while. Or you don’t…” You pause. Lifting your leg to cross over your knee and letting your robe slide up your thighs slightly. “And I’ll be on my merry way.”

An ultimatum. Oh she’s good. Coriolanus shakes his head at the authoritative confidence you display over the situation. You weren’t going to have your dignity snatched away from you so easily and he liked that. It didn’t take much intimidating either. As the ginger places a stack of cash in your palm. You smile kindly. Counting out the bills in your hands, then looking back at him with an expectant smirk.

“200k? C’mon, you can do better then that. Two hundred more and I’ll take this off. I bet it’s killing you to know what I got on under here.” Holding out your freehand, you wait for your payment. Earning an amused eye roll from the boy your sitting on. He takes out the bills and gives them up. “You’re a pricey one aren’t cha?” He heaves when you stand up immediately upon snatching the money from the rich pervert. 

Tossing the cash into the pouch you brought with you to hold your earnings. “Such a pleasure to do business with you, Mister Creed. But I have to be. We do tip outs here, so I have to split not only with Boss Man, but with the security, house mom, bartender, waitstaff, the band, etc etc. The more I manage to make the better it is for the whole club. Hope there’s no hard feelings, darlin’. I’m just working at the end of the day.”

You ramble on, stepping over to the record player and placing the needle down to begin your routine. “Now enough about me. I’m gonna go over some rules then we can hop straight into the fun part.” You start to explain. 

Climbing onto the platform in the middle of the room. In front of a pole as you turn away from the boys curious eyes. “Number one. I’m a dancer not a hooker. There’s a brothel not too far from here if your looking for those kinds of services, but we don’t offer them here.” You pull your hair onto one shoulder. Looking over the other one at them as you untie the belt to your robe slowly. “Two, patience and manners. Your all big enough to know better about that I assume.” Peeling the fabric past your shoulders, you roll it down your back. Taunting them with how leisurely you show off the skimpy lingerie made completely of pearls. So you had a theme. “And finally, número tres. You can touch me all over, but my face and here…” Bending down to slide your robe over the meat of your ass and drop it to the floor. You place a your hand between your legs. Over top your most intimate area covered in a silky cream thong. “Is a no no.”

Standing back up to your full height, you turn your body in their direction finally. Showcasing the pearly pasties covering your areolas from their lustful eyes. “Break the first two and you’ll be put out of the club and banned for a month. Break the last one and my guard outside that door will give you a lead bullet to chew on. We take the safety of our dancers very seriously here at Roja Dior and I would really hate the inconvenience if you did. So, have I made myself clear boys?”

They all nod. A few groans and hungry ‘yes ma’am’s’ echoing through out the dimly lit room.(to be continued…)

[masterwords]

hi! would you consider writing something with oblivious rossi?

maybe hotch gets hurt and rossi is trying to take care of him and gets angry at morgan for trying to take over or be hotch's emergency contact or something.

could be paternal/platonic/romantic rossi

Sorry this took a freaking half a year to finish! I hope you like it! (Or are...you know...still hanging around this fandom. SO SORRY.)

Summary: When the excitement is over, all that remains is to regroup. Hotch won't get into an SUV so Rossi follows him to the wreckage of Derek's ambulance. Things just keep getting weirder for Rossi after that.

Words: 7.1k

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: explosions & injuries (if you've seen lo-fi/mayhem you know)

Notes: YEAH. Another Mayhem fic. Just a whole lot of Hotch being exceptionally Hotch-like. Frustrating and totally mad but we love him right? I am posting the whole fic here (and on ao3) because it's a one shot for once!

***

“I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel,” Rossi said, stopping Hotch in his tracks. He’d been hoping to make his exit in silence, while everyone was occupied, but Rossi was watching him. A little too closely.

“That’s alright,” Hotch replied coolly, his eyes trained on a spot on the floor. A fleck of mica in the linoleum held his attention longer than it should have, a dead giveaway that his marbles were suitably scrambled. They might not have evaluated for a concussion but he definitely had one and there was no denying it.

“I insist. They don’t need our help here and you look like you could use a nice hot shower. Come on.”

Hotch followed dutifully, unable to conjure an excuse on the spot. His mind was a hotbed of misery, he was about two minutes from complete collapse and that didn’t leave a lot of room for quick wit. Rossi smiled victoriously, attempting to make some kind of small talk on the way through the front doors of the hospital. The conversation was one sided. At the curb, parked beside the bright red no parking emergency vehicles only pain was a black SUV. His body turned to static electricity and he stopped dead in his tracks, the ache behind his sternum becoming a rumbling freight train. Rossi pressed the button and the fob set off a chirping noise in the SUV. Hotch didn’t exactly flinch, but his hearing went out entirely and became a high pitched screaming and nothing else.

“I think I’ll walk,” he muttered. It sounded completely nonsensical to Rossi, his speech somewhat slurred in his sudden panic.

“Come on Aaron, you need some rest.”

“I said I’d rather walk.”

“You look like you can barely stand let alone walk…”

“I said I’d rather walk.” He could scarcely hear Rossi, but that didn’t matter. He knew he wasn’t getting into that damn SUV.

“Okay, okay. I’ll walk with you.”

Hotch’s legs were already moving, feet pounding pavement as fast as they would carry him on weary bones and aching joints. Putting as much space between he and that powder keg SUV as he could. The faster he tried to move, the more pronounced his limp became and Rossi struggled to catch up.

“Aaron, slow down!”

“I don’t need a babysitter Dave.”

“I worry. Humor, me would you? Slow down. It’s two miles back to the hotel from here.”

Hotch realized as he moved forward that he wasn’t exactly headed back to the hotel. He knew the way, but he had other plans. Then Rossi would really think he’d gone mad.

Maybe he had. He wasn’t in any position to judge madness, not at this point. He’d spent the day watching people be murdered on city cameras and finished out his evening by being blown up in the middle of Manhattan and then watching the man responsible slice his own throat to avoid being arrested. Now he was touring the streets of Manhattan in a concussed fog looking for a street he knew had to be coming up soon. He knew the city well enough, maybe not as well as Rossi but he could manage. On a good day at least.

At a crosswalk he stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening to the sounds of the city. He’d been hoping to hear the sirens, the commotion, but this was a city that never went quiet and he’d lost his bearings. The smoke was coating the sidewalks in all direction, he couldn’t tell where the plume originated. Rossi caught up to him and stood by his side, awaiting his next move.

“If you’re headed where I think you are, take a left at the next intersection.”

“You don’t need to come.”

Rossi shrugged helplessly. “I’m not going to let you wander around Manhattan alone, Aaron. Not in your state. Besides, I’d like to see how our friend fared myself.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just entered the crosswalk when the light changed and began heading for the next intersection. Rossi kept up with him but didn’t speak, not for a long time. He was too busy watching him, making sure that he didn’t fall over. Again and again his leg buckled beneath him and Rossi reached out, ready to stop his face from hitting the cement, but each time Hotch managed to right himself and move with even more determination to just get where he was going.

Ahead, a few exhausting blocks further, was an entrance to Central Park. They weren’t where they needed to be, but they were close. The footpath would take them over a small bridge, beneath streetlamps glowing through the smoky haze. As they crested the bridge, he could see the smoldering remains of Derek’s ambulance and it ignited something inside of him. He began running, turning briskly from the pavement into the great sea of grass.

It was more of a painful lope, one leg clearly doing the majority of the work, and Rossi kept on his heels. It wasn’t hard, Hotch wasn’t running fast. “Aaron, we can walk, no one is going anywhere.”

Rossi’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Partially because Hotch’s hearing had almost entirely gone out, partially because he was so focused on that ambulance that the rest of the world had disappeared. He didn’t even hear Rossi’s protest.

He whipped out his credentials when stopped at the barrier, flipping them open with one trembling hand. Rossi followed suit, and without much hesitation they were allowed to pass into the scene. The heat was astounding, charred grass and flickering embers still being snuffed out by the fire department. Hotch’s pace slowed as he got closer, as he took in the full image of desolation. Molten metal, the ambulance he’d driven not long ago reduced to nothing but charred remains.

“Aaron…” Rossi said when Hotch stumbled to a halt. Like he simply couldn’t move forward. “We don’t need to be here. They have it covered.”

The ground was wet, sopping and soggy, his feet were sinking in the mush. They’d been pushing so much water over the ground, over the ambulance, the whole place was saturated and swampy. It smelled like gasoline and the still billowing smoke made him cough.

“Aaron. Come on. Not tonight.”

“Hotch!” A voice rang out through the night, and while he’d heard very little of what Rossi was saying to him, he heard Derek’s voice clear as a bell. He turned and squinted in the direction he thought the voice had come from, trying to see through the stagnant smoke hanging thick around the site. “HOTCH!” Derek appeared then, running out of the plumes of smoke still rising like phantom geysers from the wreckage and Hotch stood dumbfounded as Derek slammed into him. For a split second neither of them worried about injuries, about the clash of ribs and the twisting of arms and the intense relief as Derek buried his face in the warmth of Hotch’s sweaty neck. He smelled like antiseptic and blood, a welcome reprieve from the overwhelming acrid smoke.

“You’re in so much trouble,” Hotch whispered, his nose against Derek’s ear, arms wrapped tight. If they were alone he might have been inclined to allow a kiss but they were already pushing past any professional boundaries that might still exist between them. He caught Rossi staring and turned away, avoiding the intensity of his glare.

“My turn?” Rossi asked, oblivious. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just trying to divert the attention from the emotional meeting before people started asking questions, before he had to start asking questions himself. Derek obliged, hugging Rossi with half the vigor of what he’d just given Hotch but it made people look away, satisfied that what they were seeing was more of a family reunion than a lover’s embrace.

Rossi still wasn’t sure himself. Hotch and Derek’s relationship had always eluded his grasp. One minute they were thick as thieves, sharing a braincell, and the next they were at each other’s throats barely able to even be in the same room. The charge between them was intense and the pendulum swung wildly back and forth.

This case in New York had been no exception. The two of them had been scrapping like cats and dogs, more glares than gazes. Everything had been tense from the first sight of Kate Joyner.

“I’ll call us a car,” Rossi said as Hotch and Derek stood having a silent conversation, just staring at one another in a way that made Rossi feel like an intruder.

“I’ll walk,” Hotch insisted again. Rossi thought he��d be over that by now, that he’d just wanted to get here without being at someone else’s mercy, but there was more to it. Derek and Rossi shared a glance, and all at once without putting words to it, they realized why Hotch wanted to walk.

“I’ll join you,” Derek said quickly. “Rossi, you can go back to the hotel. We’re done here anyway.”

“I don’t mind the walk,” Rossi insisted, but Derek shot him a look that was almost seething. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t being asked not to join them but told. He was a third wheel. “Okay. I’ll see you fellas in the morning. JJ has the jet scheduled to leave at 11.”

“I can’t fly,” Hotch muttered. “The field office has secured me a ride back to Quantico.”

“You?” Rossi asked, suddenly smirking. “The man who won’t get into an SUV with someone he knows and trusts tonight?”

“I’ll manage.”

Rossi shrugged helplessly. Hotch had to be the most frustrating person he’d ever known in his life. Hands down. Not even Gideon could hold a candle to the absolute madness of knowing this man.

“Watch him, will ya?” Rossi asked, looking directly at Derek.

“Of course.”

(x)

Derek woke up before anyone else. He knew because the lobby was quiet, the little continental breakfast room was quiet though freshly stocked with pastries and fruit and hot coffee, the whole place was quiet. If Emily or Spencer had been awake there would certainly have been noise. He threw his bag over his shoulder and wandered the carpeted hallways, taking a few extra minutes to gather his thoughts. The night before was a blur of fire and exhaustion. He and Hotch had walked back in complete silence, a little over two miles without saying a word except to bid one another goodnight at Hotch’s hotel room door. No invitation inside. Hotch didn’t offer, Derek didn’t ask. That hug had taken it all out of them, had quenched the immediate thirst for connection, but there was still so much turmoil between them that they weren’t able to touch the night before.

Sleep had cleared Derek’s mind enough that he could his his way to a resolution and he only had to hope that Hotch fared the same. Somehow he doubted that the other man had slept much if at all. Passed out in short spurts, probably, but not restful sleep.

“Has anyone checked out yet this morning from my team?” Derek asked, now standing in front of the front desk. He flashed his credentials and slapped down the list of room numbers he wanted checked. The young man with horn rimmed glasses and slicked back hair frowned as he clicked away at his keyboard.

“Room 614,” the front desk attendant whose nametag read Miraz said, sliding the paper back to Derek. “About fifteen minutes ago.”

614. Rossi. Where the hell was Rossi going this early? He was usually the last one up and moving, he liked to take his sweet time. At least Hotch had stayed put, he was still in his room, with any luck sleeping. They had hours left.

“I’d like to check out. Room 801.”

“Derek Morgan?”

“Yes,” he said, wondering now if Miraz had even bothered to look at his credentials. Probably not. “You see which way the guy from 614 went?”

Miraz shrugged and his face seemed to say he wasn’t a babysitter, he didn’t get paid enough to care where guests went once they were no longer paying for his services. Derek couldn’t blame him.

“Thanks bud.”

“Hey,” Miraz said as Derek turned to grab his bag from the floor. “Did I see you on the news last night? That explosion in Central Park?”

Derek thought about shrugging, just to give the guy a taste of his own medicine, but he really wasn’t in the mood to play games. “Yeah. That was me.”

“You saved a whole bunch of lives. That’s really cool. Was it scary?”

“Uh...yeah. It was a little scary driving an ambulance rigged to explode through Manhattan. Almost shit my pants when I jumped out. First thing I did when I stood up was check my pants.”

That got a laugh out of Miraz who seemed to lighten up a little. “That guy, 614? I only saw him go out the front door, he was on his phone when he checked out. Sounded like he was going to meet someone. Thanks for doing what you did...my mom lives close to St Sebastian.”

Derek smiled and nodded, lifting up his bag. “You’re welcome. That’s my job. Hey, can I leave a note for the guy in 311?”

“Sure. Here.” Miraz slipped Derek a pad of paper emblazoned with the hotel logo at the top and a pen to match.

“Just make sure you give this to him. He’s gonna look pretty mean...be nice to him, okay? He had a rough night.”

“Was he the guy in the car that blew up?”

“Yeah, kid. He was. You saw that on the news too huh?”

“It’s all everyone was talking about last night. Bet if you went into the restaurant you’d hear it everywhere.”

Derek left after that, feeling better about the interaction than he’d started. His note was simple, just asking Hotch to call him. Somehow he knew Hotch wouldn’t, but he couldn’t control that. He could control his own reaction to the situation. He’d given Hotch space last night – yeah, the case was over and technically they were well within their relationship limits to spend time together behind closed doors once that had happened, but something about the way everything went down told him it wasn’t a good time. To let Hotch have space, to lick his wounds. He needed to come to terms with what happened on his own before he could ever hope to let anyone else in, it was just a part of who he was. And maybe Derek needed some of that himself this time too. He had no regrets, but he did spend a lot of the night worried that Hotch wasn’t okay. That his injuries were worse than he let on. Kate died and Hotch just had a blown ear drum and some shrapnel in his leg? He didn’t buy it.

But they’d walked two miles together and Hotch held up. He limped and there were times it was pretty clear he was dizzy, that he couldn’t hear well or even at all, but he walked nonetheless. It wasn’t nothing.

Derek stepped out into the bright early morning and looked around, wondering where in the hell Rossi went. What was he up to? JJ had gone to stay with Will for the night but she’d already secured the jet, there was nothing to do except just show up and take off.

He thought about calling, but what would he say? There was no real reason he should find himself so concerned about Rossi’s whereabouts. Pushing it out of his mind, he made his way toward the FBI Field Office, intending to talk with them about Kate first, and then Hotch’s ride. He knew Agent Davis had been assigned to drive him back to Quantico, and then make the return trip on her own. Derek thought he could spare her the trouble and chauffeur Hotch on his own. At least then it would be a one way trip and they could have some time alone together. The last thing Davis needed was to have to spend 5 hours in a car with the grouchiest Unit Chief on the East Coast. No one was better equipped to deal with the emotional fallout of the last week as it settled on Hotch than Derek. He was somewhat responsible for it, afterall.

On his way, he called Sean and talked to him. Sean had seen the news by the ragged sound of his voice, by the way he sounded drunk at 7am. “I heard about Kate,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Raw, red sounding words, like he’d been pounding whiskey and cigarettes all night. Derek wasn’t surprised.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“How’s Aaron?” The sound of Sean’s voice hadn’t surprised Derek, but Sean asking about his brother did. It wasn’t like him to be concerned about his brother, at least not before exhausting the attention himself. He must have seen the bomb.

“Rough,” Derek said, quickening his pace. It occurred to him that Rossi might have had the same idea he had, that Rossi might be off trying to reassign Davis himself. “But alive. I’m going to drive him back home, he can’t fly. Was thinking maybe the three of us could meet for breakfast before we skip town.”

“Oh. I uh…” Sean started, and Derek could hear sheets twisting and an inhale, he had a cigarette already. “I don’t think Aaron wants to see me. He didn’t even tell me you guys were in town.”

“You know how he is on cases, bud. Nothing personal. Come on. I’m buyin’.”

Sean’s stomach growled and he knew his hangover would be epic if he didn’t eat...hell, it was going to be epic anyway, but something greasy might curb the bite. “Yeah. Okay. Look my car’s broken down and my bike’s in storage…I pawned my ten speed for rent money a couple weeks ago so I’m hoofing it these days...”

“We’ll come to you. Text me a restaurant and a time, we’ll meet you there.”

He found Rossi outside of the field office looking pleased with himself. The look on his face was concerning and took Derek back to the night before. “Rossi!” Derek called, picking up the pace. Rossi turned and looked at him, waving a little as he did so.

“You’re up early. The jet doesn’t leave until 11.”

“Yeah, I actually thought I’d give Hotch a ride home. Came by to tell Agent Davis she didn’t have to drive Miss Daisy.”

Rossi, with a look of amusement, replied. “Already taken care of. I’ll drive Aaron back to Quantico.”

Exactly what Derek was hoping to avoid. The two of them, while not actively hiding anything, hadn’t really gone public. It never seemed like the right time. It was hard to look at pictures of humans at their worst, the evils of the world, and say Hey guys guess what? We kiss now.

“Would you mind if I did?” Derek asked, hoping he could play it cool. “We kinda had a rough time on this case and I’d like to do some damage control. You know?”

“I don’t think he’s in any condition to be doing damage control, Morgan. Why don’t you save that for next week?” The smug look on Rossi’s face was irritating. Derek wasn’t in the mood.

He’d been so confident, so sure that he could get here in time to seal the deal. Why would Rossi be so adamant about doing it? About spending five hours in a car with Hotch who was bound to be grouchier than a grizzly bear with a thorn in its paw? He was dangerously close to playing his trump card, the only thing stopping him was knowing damn well Hotch wouldn’t want that. Rossi was making it awfully damn hard.

It had started the night before, in the hospital. He was the first to show up on the floor, the first to rush into Hotch’s hospital room. Derek was in the bathroom cleaning himself up, giving Hotch a minute to sit quietly on the bed and just think without distraction – it was all he said he needed, just a minute to clear his head. They were missing something and if he could just get some quiet he might find it, but of course as he quickly came to realize, the joke was on him. There was no quiet to be had, not inside his head. The ringing and the pain were louder than anything in the hospital, and then there comes Rossi jogging into the room shouting “Aaron! Aaron!” and trying to force him to lay down. “You need to rest.” That hadn’t gone over well, not for any of them. Hotch didn’t want to rest, he just wanted Rossi to stop making noise, and Derek just wanted the night to be over. He’d tried to get Rossi to leave, to let Hotch get dressed in peace, but it only turned into an argument outside of his room while they waited for Hotch to finish.

“Just because they’re pointing at you to run the field office up here…” Rossi had started, and Derek looked around helplessly at the team who hadn’t known any of that. “Not here Rossi. Back off.” No, things had definitely not gone well the night before. The scene in the park had been less frustrating but there was still some uneasiness about Rossi, some hesitation there and it had clearly spurred him on this morning. He had little hope that Rossi was going to let him have this without a fight. Not when he looked at Rossi’s little smile that said I win, though what he thought he was winning Derek couldn’t decide.

“We’re having breakfast with Sean before leaving. I just got off the phone with him. He’s expecting us.”

Rossi cocked his head to the side like he didn’t quite understand what Derek said. “You called Sean?”

“He and I have been buddies a long time, man. He knew Kate pretty well...they kinda dated a while back…”

“Kate Joyner? Dated Sean Hotchner?” Rossi could barely believe his ears. She seemed far too smart and put together to date someone like Sean, that was what Derek saw flash over Rossi’s features. He took immediate offense, bristling at the thought that Sean might not be good enough for someone. He had plenty of faults, but he was a good man and he’d never treated a lover poorly. That was reserved for himself, self-loathing a particularly strong Hotchner trait. They didn’t care half as much about themselves as they did others.

“I guess when she was new to the city. I don’t know man, he’s handsome and he cleaned himself up pretty good for a while. But I’m a little worried this is gonna make him relapse. I thought if we...Hotch and I...took him out for breakfast maybe we could help.”

There was a dawning look of curiosity on Rossi’s face that Derek didn’t like, but he supposed it was only a matter of time. “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say there might be something going on between you that you aren’t sharing with the class.”

“Me and Sean?” Derek asked, feigning ignorance. He wasn’t very good at it. Rossi didn’t smile.

Now Derek just felt like a slimeball. Sure, he’d been angry at Rossi the night before but it wasn’t really angry it was just frustration, exasperation. Rossi was pushing him and it would have been so much easier if he could just fucking tell him WHY because he knew Rossi would respect that and leave them alone but he was trying his best to honor Hotch’s wishes that they be discreet for a while longer. Until the dust settled on his divorce, until they were back on Strauss’ good side...well this sure as hell wasn’t going to put them there and frankly that they ever would be on her good side was starting to look hopeless. The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to have a heart to heart with Rossi. He had to lay it out or this game of tug-o-war was never going to end.

“Let’s go grab a coffee,” he suggested, looking at the time. He still had a while before Hotch would get up. Or at least a while before he would be leaving his room. His rendezvous with Agent Davis was 9am, there was time enough to have a meaningful talk with Rossi and still make it. “I think maybe we need to have a chat.”

“If you’re planning to explain the birds and the bees, kid, save your breath.” Rossi said with a smirk and Derek shook his head. He couldn’t believe this man sometimes.

“Well damn. Guess we’ll have to find something else to talk about.”

“I have a feeling you’ve got that covered.”

They walked along listening to the sounds of morning in Manhattan, street vendors and taxi cabs, people shouting and cars honking and music everywhere. The city never slept but it seemed a little extra electric this morning after the terror of the last week, after the excitement of the night before. Newsstands were showered with photos of explosions in black and white and full color spreads, and everyone was telling what they knew or heard. Even in passing Derek could pick up how little of it was true. “I heard it was the President in that hospital…” “No, it was the Secretary of Defense…” “No, it was the Pope…” Derek had to roll his eyes as the stories got more and more outlandish. Still, no one seemed to recognize him immediately though a few people did do quick second takes as he walked by – he thought Hotch might not be so fortunate. His picture was all over the papers.

“Looks like you boys are celebrities,” Rossi said, pointing at a photo of Derek crouched in front of Hotch on the street. It was taken by zoom lens, probably somewhere just past the barricade Derek had worked his way through. Rossi picked it up and stared for a minute and Derek wondered what he was thinking – could he see the look in his eye? That absolute devastation at seeing Hotch bleeding in the street? And could he see the look in Hotch’s eye? Like Derek was some kind of savior? Rossi looked at the photo for a long time and Derek sucked in a shaky breath, glancing around at the crush of people crossing the busy street. “They’re calling you heroes.”

“They don’t know what else to do with their fear,” Derek whispered, still staring at the picture of Hotch. He didn’t know what else to do with it either.

“How about this place?” Rossi indicated a little cafe with outdoor seating that looked like they had room for a few more. Just a few steps past the newsstand. “Looks nice.”

They were seated quickly and ordered just as fast – a coffee and a slice of quiche for Derek, coffee and a croissant sandwich full of meat and cheese for Rossi. Easy and fast, they had their food right from the glass deli counter and began eating. Rossi was going to wait Derek out and watched with curiosity as he picked the egg away from the crust and set the crust aside.

“So that’s how you get a body like that,” Rossi said with a smirk. “You deprive yourself of the good parts.”

“Good parts? Man, crust isn’t the good part. Not when you got spinach and egg and cheese in here. I love food, I don’t love empty calories.”

“Not ever?”

“Did I say that?”

Rossi smiled and shook his head, lifting his sandwich to tear into it. He was starving. The minute his mouth was full, Derek took his opportunity to speak.

“Listen. There’s no easy way to bring this up, and I really probably shouldn’t but here’s the thing. I’m driving Aaron back to Quantico. You can argue all you want but I’m not gonna budge so it’d be a lot easier if you didn’t. I need to be with him right now.”

Rossi, chewing, nodded. He didn’t seem all that surprised.

“This week’s been rough for us and we need some time to talk. Or maybe just to be together quietly. He’s hurting, Rossi. And with the whole Kate...New York job...thing...I don’t know but I’m not going home without him.”

“And if I say no? I do still have the keys.”

“I’ll throw down, Rossi.” Derek grinned at that, knowing damn well Rossi was going to hand him the keys to the SUV without any further argument. It wasn’t like Derek couldn’t just get an SUV of his own to drive back in, that wasn’t really the issue. It was a principal thing. “I know you just wanna make sure he’s okay. I know you’re worried about him, I get it. I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know you will.” That was the first really serious thing Rossi had said all morning. He was glad, in some ways, that Derek was so devoted but his reputation worried Rossi. Maybe he wasn’t the dog everyone made him out to be, but Hotch was in no frame of mind to be dealing with personal drama. Between the divorce and now Kate’s death, he’d had enough. It just kept piling up and all Rossi had wanted to do was try to ease it. He wanted to ask questions that would probably come across as insensitive or prying, definitely pressing for information he wasn’t owed but Hotch had become like a son to him. He cared deeply for him in ways he hadn’t for anyone – there was a time he felt more devoted to Hotch than his own wife. (Wives.) And he was usually welcome in with open arms, this was jarring being pushed to the outside. Not being given an opportunity to help at the hospital and again now, it didn’t sit well.

“Do you remember Adrian Bale?” Derek asked, digging a tomato out of his quiche.

“The bomber who killed 6 Agents and wounded several others, sending Gideon into a tailspin. I recall the case vaguely but I know I checked in on Gideon several times during his leave. I was on a book tour at the time.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah. Well, Hotch was one of the wounded. I sat with him in a hospital room for three days while he battled his injuries. Three days I listened to him cough his lungs up, cleaned up blood, helped him eat and go to the bathroom. Three days. I should have been there when it happened but I was too busy licking my own wounds after a fight with he and Gideon about where I was needed. I thought I should be on the front line, they didn’t think so, I got pissed at them treating me like an outsider. That’s not what they were doing, I know that, but it pissed me off anyway. And I let that anger keep me away when they needed me. Last night was like a repeat. Only this time it feels worse because that first time I wasn’t really mad at him but this time I was. I almost lost something last night and I’m not gonna...not again. Not without a fight.”

Rossi nodded but said nothing, just regarded Derek with a seriousness he didn’t often employ. The restaurant shrank around them, suddenly cramped and tight, and Derek found it hard to breathe. He hadn’t even really said the words, probably didn’t need to at this point. If Rossi wasn’t picking up on it, he might need to look for a new job. He thought Rossi understood completely though, and instead just didn’t like it.

“You’re either not surprised or you don’t wanna invest much in it because you think it won’t last. Which is it?”

“Both, maybe,” Rossi admitted, pulling a piece of ham from his sandwich and eating it. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re good for him, but he’s...his marriage ending is probably not the best time for him to jump into something new, especially not something committed. Measure your expectations.”

“You callin’ me a rebound?”

“I guess in a matter of speaking. Maybe that’s not exactly what I’d call it...but close enough. They were married a long time.”

“No, they were together a long time. They actually weren’t married that long. They got married right after I came to the BAU.”

“Are we arguing semantics now? They had been together since high school, in whatever capacity you’d like to imagine. You don’t just get over that and jump into another healthy relationship right away. There has to be a grace period. A rebound, if you like.”

“Damn Rossi. That’s a little cold don’t you think?”

“Am I wrong?”

Derek considered what Rossi was saying while he sipped the too hot coffee. It burned his tongue. “I don’t know. I think you might be. I know how I feel, and I know how I’ve felt for a very long time. It’s not like this just came on out of nowhere for either of us. It’s been a long time coming. I guess I thought I knew how he felt...before Kate, anyway. Now I’m not as sure.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You saw the way he was with her. I know she dated Sean but it doesn’t take a genius to see the way he looked at her. And her resemblance to Haley was uncanny.”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?! They’re practically twins.”

“Because they’re both blonde? That’s hardly fair. You’re jealous.”

“Damn right I am. Wouldn’t you be?”

“With anyone else, maybe. But you know Hotch better than that. That man was made to be married. If he’s with you, he’s with you. He’s not looking at anyone else. You should have seen all the LEOs and lawyers and other Agents who chased his tail, slipped him phone numbers for years and he was either completely oblivious or if he picked up on it he shut it down right away. You don’t trust that, you should probably cut your losses now and move on.”

“Yeah. I know. It’s just that I know how he still feels about Haley, how he’ll probably always feel about her and I saw this chick walking around like hot shit with him following behind her looking like a lovesick puppy…”

“Did you ever stop to consider that his motivation was deeply rooted in the fear of you leaving, not attraction to her? And that perhaps her intense interest in him had more to do with trusting him to save her job than it did with sexual attraction? I think your insecurity is leading you down a dangerous path.”

“Damn Rossi. You’re not pulling punches today. How’d you even know about that anyway?” He remembered talking to Rossi in the bar, and he never questioned Rossi’s knowledge then. He’d been too distracted to wonder, to puzzle that out. And the hospital had been the wrong time to bring any of it up. He couldn’t get that look of betrayal on Spencer’s face out of his mind. But now he wanted to know. There shouldn’t have been anyone outside of he and Hotch and Kate who knew and he thought they were going to keep it that way. At least until the case was finished.

“People talk, Derek. And I listen.”

What he meant was he had eyes and ears everywhere. He was connected. He probably knew before Hotch or Derek did. He’d probably been hearing whispers for months, judging by the cocky look on his face.

“It would be a terrible thing, you leaving the BAU. You would hate it up here. A desk job, suit and tie, dealing with all of that red tape. It’s not you Derek.”

“I’m not even tempted. I don’t want to leave the BAU. Only reason I considered it the other night was anger.”

“You tell him that?”

“I plan to...if you ever give me the damn car keys.”

Rossi finally handed them over and paid the tab before telling Derek he should get going. “Hotch will be checking out anytime now. You’ll want to catch him before he decides to take matters into his own hands or you’ll be chasing his tail lights down the interstate. You know how he is.” What Rossi imagined wasn’t Hotch in a car so much as Hotch on foot, wandering along the side of the road in some desolate Stephen King torturous walk, his feet bleeding inside of his shoes and him content to continue just so that he didn’t have to slide into the seat of an SUV.

“Shit.”

Outside the FBI Office, Hotch was talking with someone Derek didn’t recognize. He held himself stiff and tall, Derek could tell his back hurt but he looked shockingly put together and cleaned up. Upon closer inspection, he could still see a smear of blood behind Hotch’s ear and another at the nape of his neck. Clearly he hadn’t showered, just gave himself a wipe down – he probably didn’t get up in time, or maybe he couldn’t manage it. Derek really had no idea.

The sight of Derek approaching was startling to him, Derek could see it on his face. “Derek. What are you doing here?”

“I know you got my note. That kid at the front desk said he’d give it to you.”

“He did.”

“And you just decided to ignore it?”

Hotch’s features melted into a slow, cautious smile. “I knew you’d find me regardless. You always do.”

Derek rolled his eyes and leaned forward to grab Hotch’s go bag before he could. It was easy, he wasn’t exactly moving quickly. Bending at the hips looked painful. “I’m driving you home. Don’t bother acting surprised.”

“I had assumed Rossi might get to it first. He sent me a cryptic message this morning alluding to a road trip.”

“He did but I fought him for the honor. Won fair and square.” Sort of. Maybe he fought a little dirty. Maybe he said some things he wished he hadn’t. Given too much up.

“You told him about us, didn’t you?”

“Had no choice if I wanted to win.”

Hotch nodded and set out to walk toward the car. He moved slowly and Derek knew he wasn’t wrong about that stiffness, his back was messed up. He didn’t seem to move his neck either, instead he shifted his entire body in the direction he wanted to look.

“You’re lookin pretty rough today.”

“Feeling it.”

At least he admitted it, that was a step in the right direction. “Yeah. Me too.” Derek stopped at the SUV and hit the unlock button on the fob, keeping Hotch in his peripheral vision. He didn’t exactly flinch but he did stiffen up some, and his thumb started working a little faster over his nail bed as he looked around. PTSD. Maybe not alarming, not yet, but small signs. Derek didn’t miss them.

“We’re having breakfast with Sean.”

“I know. He sent me a text this morning.”

“Damn. Is there anything I can tell you that you don’t already know?”

Hotch reached for the door but Derek got there first, clicking it open and putting his body between Hotch and the car. Hotch smiled at the gesture. “You could tell me that you love me.”

That wasn’t what Derek expected. Not after his talk with Rossi, not after everything they’d been through with Kate. “If I did that...would you say it back?”

“You’re going to have to try it and see.” Something about him looked so serious, Derek couldn’t resist. He didn’t think Hotch had ever looked like he needed anything more in his life than to hear that Derek loved him right this minute, and how could he deny him that?

“I do. Dammit, I do. I love you Aaron.”

Hotch smiled and leaned forward, his body awkward and screaming in pain, every movement of his aching joints driving him mad but he kissed Derek once softly and then again a little harder. Slowly he raised one hand and cupped the back of his neck, holding him in place. “I love you too. Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hotch smiled into another kiss. “Good.”

He was broken, his head was pounding mercilessly, his ear was ringing so loud and the sound of the city wasn’t helping any of it but for the moment, just this one moment, he wasn’t thinking about any of that. He was only thinking about the way Derek smelled, and being able to sit beside him for hours alone. They were never alone. It felt like a luxury and he could only wish that he felt better, that he felt halfway decent so he could enjoy it. This was probably the best he would feel all day and it wasn’t good, not even a little, and it was bound to get worse. He could already feel his head swimming and filling with that cottony otherworldly confusion that comes hand in hand with a concussion. The coffee and advil he’d pumped into his system had given a valiant effort at staving off the symptoms but it was a temporary solution to a much more resilient problem. There was no wishing this away, he would have to walk head first into the pain and hope he came out the other side in better shape.

“Your brother’s a wreck,” Derek whispered against Hotch’s warm lips and Hotch nodded. His brother was always a wreck. “I think maybe we all are.”

“Probably right.”

“Let’s go get some food. It’s as good a place to start as any.”

“Somewhere quiet, please.” It was the simplest request he could make. What he really wanted was somewhere to lay his head down, it was already feeling about twice as heavy as it should on his neck. The look in Derek’s eye said he had plans for them today, plans that probably involved talking and hashing things out, but the reality was grim. He needed to sleep.

Derek pressed his hand to the side of Hotch’s head, thumb caressing the cup of Hotch’s injured ear. To his surprise, Hotch didn’t flinch away from the touch. “Somewhere quiet. You got it.” He paused, smiling, and just for the hell of it spoke again. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Dammit Hotch. You’re such an asshole.”

“I know that too.”

“I’d punch you in the mouth if I thought it would change anything…”

“Kiss me instead.”

Derek didn’t need to be told twice.