#never drawing a blazer ever again oh my god

[grassiestars]

always an angel

[dykeforhire]

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x afab!reader

Description: a night out with the team and a hurricane shot strikes up some interesting experiences between you and Chief Prentiss.

Warnings: (18+) Smut (rough sex, choking, hair pulling, spitting, slapping, strap-sucking), dirty talk, use of she/her pronouns, pet names like good/pretty girl, etc but no full on descriptors.

Playlist: I Wanna Be Your Dog - Joan Jett, Mars needs guitars - Voodoo Gurus

Word count: 13k (sorry not sorry<3)

Read on ao3 | Masterlist

A/n: FINALLY ITS HERE!! enjoy;)

…

It’s been a grueling week for the entire team. 

The last case was long and exhausting, a seemingly never-ending chase. That is until they finally caught the break they needed to take him down. It was like a tidal wave of relief had crashed over the team. And so, that is how you and the ladies ended up at a bar in town, huddled around a table in the corner of the room, passing around jokes and playing ridiculous games that co-workers most definitely should not play together. But tonight, you are all simply close friends.

“Okay, okay- Y/n! How about you?” JJ quipped playfully from the other side of the table, her warm, blonde locks tousled messily over her shoulder. “What is your craziest sex story?” 

You flush slightly under the gaze of your intrigued co-workers, eyes falling to the half-empty glass in your hand. “Oh man, I don’t know…” You tipped your head back in thought, gazing up at the ceiling with a squint. 

“When I was a teenager, I had this girlfriend…” You laugh at the ridiculous memory. “She’s a sweet girl, but she’s from a pretty religious family. And one time, when we were y’know… doing it in her bedroom, her mom walked in on me laid out over the desk with her daughter's head between my legs…” You heard a couple of gasps from around the table, followed by laughter.

“And her mother genuinely screamed and ran! I had to jump out her bedroom window half-naked!” You motioned dramatically with your hands, before sipping on your drink.

“Oh my GOD, Y/n!” JJ guffawed, tossing her head back in laughter. 

“That’s- oh my, I don’t think I’d be able to live after that!” Penelope sits stunned next to you, her bracelets clinking together as she shifts to face you, her hand landing on your shoulder.

“Yeahh… safe to say I never saw her again.” You chuckled. “Her mom sent her off to some private academy the next week, and the last I heard from her was in a letter she wrote, stating she found god and that I should repent too!” Your eyes widen for dramatic effect as you lean back in your chair, tilting it on its hind legs.

“Oh Jesus…” Tara mumbled, a low chuckle rumbling from her chest as she took a swig from her beer.

“Never again with the religious girls…” you shake your head, laughing to yourself silently.

“Unless they’re ex-religious! Those are the interesting ones…” JJ raises her finger in the air, giving you a bright smile. You can’t help but raise your brows at the response, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth as you give her a curious look.

“Are you insinuating something, JJ?” Your voice is low, your finger drawing circles over the rim of your drink.

“No! No… I’m one of them! I also just know a few things I shouldn’t about some people…” Her eyes drift conspicuously over toward Emily's shadowy figure in the corner of the table.

All eyes shift to her and Emily looks up from her lap, presumably fiddling with her cuticles. Her dark eyes, almost black in the low lighting, and her strong shoulders are sharply accentuated by the fitted blazer she has on.

You can’t deny the ridiculous crush you have on the Unit Chief. Ever since you met the woman upon her return from Interpol, you’d developed quite the infatuation. 

You’re entranced by the way she carries herself with such effortless confidence. The way her dark hair frames her gracefully (and very attractively) aged face, the way she handles a weapon, and the way she takes complete control over a situation fills you with a quiet aching that so desperately itches to be taken care of.

“What?” Emily deadpans, her perfect brows arching while her eyes search the faces of the table for an answer.

“Nothing, just JJ insinuating that you’re a freak in the sheets.” Penelope chirps. Emily rolls her eyes, her thumb and middle finger squeezing at her temples as she lets out a sigh.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t discuss my personal life at the table, Jayje.” She gives JJ a pointed look. 

“It’s just the topic of conversation, Em. I didn’t say anything, just made a comment.” JJ waves her hands in the air in sarcastic defense, shooting the ravenette a cheesy smile.

You know the women have been close friends for ages, but their banter seems to strike a faintly jealous nerve in your stomach. Do they have history? Or are they just so close that they know intimate details about each other's sex lives?

Either way, you didn’t really want to find out.

“I’m not very in favor of sharing details regarding my intimacies with other women… that’s strictly between them and myself.” Emily shifts so her arm could rest comfortably over the back of her chair. The buttons of her blouse pull tought with the position, showing a sliver of her milky chest.

Your eyes linger there for a moment, and upon their return to Emily’s face, her eyes are already locked on you. A smirk tilts the corner of her mouth, minuscule enough that you almost don’t notice it.

Chest thick with embarrassment, you turn your gaze away. A flush prickling over your skin.

“Oh! Let’s go dance!” Penelope suddenly blurts beside you, her hands tapping excitedly at your shoulders as she hops up from her chair.

The bass of the music buzzes through your bones as Penelope practically drags you to the cramped dance floor. 

You crane your neck to see if the others are following, you find Tara and JJ practically shoving Emily along. Her boot-clad feet shuffle across the floor as she moves, while a contradictory smile curls across her lips. You notice she’s shed the blazer, leaving her in a simple pair of black slacks and a matching button-down.

The air is cloudy and thick with the smell of sweating bodies and cologne. Penelope finds a decent-sized hole in the crowd and pulls you in, twirling you around as she begins dancing. You can’t help but laugh and wrap your arms around her, swaying back and forth in a soft embrace.

JJ’s hand suddenly cuts between you two, her cheeks glowing with the strength of her smile as she worms into Penelope’s space, bumping you out of the way with her hip.

You see Tara moving in closer to JJ and Penelope, but Emily is nowhere to be found. Your eyes scan the crowd, hoping to spot her head above the rest. Without luck, you begin dancing alone but close to the others. 

A pair of hands squeezing at your waist from behind causes you to jump. Quickly, you spin around, ready to confront whoever it is. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s a man you hadn’t seen, his face dripping with a thick layer of sweat. You could smell the liquor on him as he tried to pull you closer. Your fingers claw at his wrists in attempts to free yourself but to no avail.

He smiles eerily down at you, as your hands press against his damp chest, attempting to create enough distance to break away.

“Let g-” you start, but your demand is cut off when the man is aggressively shoved away from you. His arms clamber at the nearby bodies of strangers as he falls backward, inevitably landing on the floor despite his attempts to balance himself.

You jump back, wrapping your arms around yourself as you turn to greet your hero. 

And of course… It's Emily. And God, does she look hot when she’s mad.

Her face is red with anger as she brushes past you, standing over the man all while clawing at his shirt, her arms flexing under the material of her blouse as she lifts his torso from the ground, landing a solid punch across his nose before pulling him in close and shouting something illegible in his face. 

Your mouth hangs agape as the man wiggles away from her sheepishly, his eyes wide with fear and nose leaking blood as a few burly bar employees rush in and drag him outside.

She flashes her badge as one strides in her direction, waving him off.

When Emily turns back to you, the veins in her neck are bulging, pumping adrenaline throughout her body. Her eyes find yours immediately, big and full of concern. Her hands find you next, wrapping delicately around your biceps and pulling you against her chest.

Your limbs fall languidly around her waist as you lean against her. Her warm scent fills your senses as you take a deep breath, calming the incessant beating of your heart.

She smells like clean laundry and sweet shampoo, mixed with the heady essence of sweat that clings to the back of her neck. It’s intoxicating.

Your eyes scan the room in a daze of shock as Emily strokes the side of your head. But deep within you, something is crackling into a blaze– like the pit of a volcano that some delinquent teenager kicked a rock into. 

There was just something so attractive about her protecting you like that. Putting herself in harm's way, practically mauling that man for putting his hands on you.

You see Penelope shuffling into your line of sight, her warm hand reaching out to cup your cheek as her eyes worry over you. Emily pulls back from the hug, a hand sliding to rest against your trap, squeezing the muscle lightly as she watches your interaction with Penelope. 

“Oh, my sweet, Y/n! Are you okay? That was insane!” The woman crowds you, checking over your skin for any sign of blemishes. 

“Yeah, yeah, Pen. I’m okay…” Your gaze flicks over to Emily, her eyes already fixated on you. The darkness of her irises still glints with that mixture of anger and concern. She slips her hand from your shoulder, you almost protest the removal and reach for her again. But you don’t.

“Oh good. The audacity of men! Thank god Emily caught that!” Penelope sighs frustratedly, her palms cupping your jaw while her thumbs brush over your flushed cheeks.

“Yeah- thank you… Emily. Really.” Your eyes find her again, smiling shyly as she nods curtly in acknowledgment.

“It’s no problem. That douchebag needed a reality check and I was happy to give it to him.” She chuckles, showing off that infamous smile of hers. 

You can’t help but grin back at her, laughing softly as the image of Emily taking a man nearly double her size to the ground replays in your mind.

“My knight in shining armor.” You give Emily a pout, reaching out to punch her shoulder teasingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much now…” she scoffs. “Come on… I’m gonna get you a drink.” 

Before you can respond, Emily starts towards the bar. You give Penelope a quick smile, reassuring her and the others that you’re alright before quickly following after the older woman.

You find her perched against the countertop, resting one of her feet on the foot-rail. The sleeves of her blouse are rolled up to her elbows, her forearm muscles twitching deliciously as she reaches for her drink.

“Hey…” you settle in next to her, your arm brushing against hers with the closeness.

“Hey, you.” Emily smirks. “What are you drinking? Want a shot?” She looks at you excitedly, her brows jiggling as she flags the bartender down with a wave of her finger.

“Oh Christ... I don’t think I can stomach more shots. Water will do just fine.” You laugh, shaking your head. Emily nods in acknowledgment, repeating what you said to the man behind the bar.

“Thank you…” You give her a soft smile, fingers tapping anxiously on the mildly sticky wood of the bar. The feeling of being so close to Emily wracking your body with a sort of nervous energy. You could smell her perfume lingering in the humid air, a sense of groundedness within the unruly scene. 

“No problem.” Emily smiles at you over the lip of her drink, her nose crinkling as she takes a slow sip. 

The pair of you sit in a mildly uncomfortable silence while you wait on your drink, butterflies swimming in the pit of your stomach. 

You admire the way Emily’s skin glows in the low light of the bar, the faint colors from the dancefloor reflecting a warmer tone onto her porcelain complexion. With a flick of her chin, Emily’s thick locks whirl over her shoulder, giving way to the soft curve of her jawline. 

You’re pulled out of your trance when the bartender places the drink in front of you, which you immediately pick up and take a long sip. Emily studies you with an amused expression, her head tilting as she turns and leans her side against the counter.

“Ahh, refreshing.” you sigh, placing the glass on a napkin.

“Yeah?” Emily feigns a concerned look. “Are you sure you’re alright? I can get you a ride home if you-”

“Yes- sorry… I’m fine, nothing I haven’t seen before.” you flash her a tight-lipped smile as you reach for your drink again. 

“Well...” Emily’s warm hand reaches out, her palm rubbing over your tricep. “If you ever happen to encounter a guy like that ever again, just know you can always count on me to take care of it.” 

You can’t help the giggle that erupts from your chest. A blush spreads over your face as you shy away from her gaze, your full attention on watching the condensation drip from your glass.

“What?” Emily gives you a questioning arch of her brow.

“Oh- it’s nothing…” you brush her off, looking down at the amber liquid swirling in your glass.

“It’s obviously not nothing, you’re acting funny.” She chuckles, scooting a bit closer to you and resting her elbow on the bar top, somewhat trapping you in place. “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh god…” you sigh, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you place the cup down and hide behind your hands. “You getting all aggressive when that guy was on me was kinda… y’know…” you peek over at Emily through parted fingers.

She has a sarcastically confused but prideful grin on her face, dark eyes raking over your body as she steps even closer.

“Was what?” Emily leans in, her hip resting against your own. “I’m not sure what you mean.” She tilts her chin at you, her tongue poking through her teeth suggestively as she speaks.

“I think you do, Prentiss… you’re a profiler AND you have eyes.” You scoff, downing the rest of your drink– a slight relief from the dryness in your throat.

“I might have an idea, but…” her eyes leave you for a moment, glancing at the crowd, before leaning in so close her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “I want to hear you say it.”

Emily’s voice is molten against your skin, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. When she pulls away, it’s only by a few inches, her eyes trained heavily on you. Your eyes dart between hers for a moment, and you can feel the thick warmth pooling in your gut as she watches you. 

“It was really hot.” You state bluntly, a bit unsure of where the sudden courage stems from, but it leaves your mouth without a second thought. There’s a sparkle in Emily’s eyes when she hears those words, her small smirk growing once again.

“That wasn’t so hard, hm?” She reaches up to brush the loose hairs from your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You blush even harder as her hand gently cups the back of your neck.

“I bet…” her thumb presses into the soft flesh below your ear. “You would do whatever I told you to…” Her bottom lip glistens as she glides her tongue across the skin before pulling it between her perfect teeth.

You watch her thoughtlessly, eyes following the movement of her mouth as you struggle to find any semblance of a response. A bit stunned by how forward she’s being, but by no means opposed.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” She cups your jaw, and you nearly moan aloud at the contact mixed with her words, successfully stifling it down to a hardly innocent whimper.

“Oh, she likes that…” Emily beams, her hand trailing underneath your chin to aim it towards her. “Hmm, let’s see… and how would she feel about being my good girl tonight?” 

You’re quite mortified by the statement internally, not in a bad way, of course— but it doesn’t show. Never in your wildest dreams would you think something like this would ever happen, especially since she is your boss. The same boss that you’ve been pining after for months. 

“Yes…” your voice is nearly a whisper, leaning desperately into her warm touch. Emily smiles proudly in the wake of your response.

“Hmm, well… why don't you start by dancing with me?” She squeezes your jaw before releasing it roughly. You let your head fall to the side as she downs the remainder of her drink. A dopey grin crosses your face as you look back at her through fluttering lashes.

“Come on, this is a good one…” Emily chuckles, gripping your clammy hand and tugging you back to the dancefloor.

[So messed up, I want you here]

The heavy sound of guitar fills your ears, you recognize the song instantly; I Wanna Be Your Dog by Joan Jett– of course, Emily loves this song. 

[And in my room, I want you here]

Emily wraps her arm around your waist tightly, pulling you flush against her body as she sways with the music. You let your arms wrap around her neck, fingers tangling into the hair at her nape as you lean into the embrace. 

Emily smiles down at you, and it's like there is no one else in the room. It feels like your skin is burning and you couldn't be happier (and hornier). 

[yeah, and now we’re gonna be face to face, ugh]

“You're beautiful, I hope you know that” You flush at the compliment, burying your face into her shoulder as your bodies twist together to the rhythm of the music. 

“Thank you. You’re really really gorgeous.” Your nose brushes against the soft skin of her neck as you return the compliment. You feel her finger looping through your belt loop, just barely grazing the curve of your ass. She chuckles and you can feel the vibrations from her chest against your own.

[And I’ll lay right down in your favorite place]

“Yeah! You know where that is!” You sing along to the song with a smile, pulling away from Emily and spinning around, your ass brushing against her front as you gyrate against her.

[Now I wanna be your dog!]

Emily's hands settle low on your hips, the tips of her fingers digging into your upper thigh. You feel her hot breath tickling the back of your neck, soon followed by the subtle brush of her lips. 

[Now I wanna be your dog!]

You let your head fall back onto her shoulder, mouth falling open as she places a full-fledged kiss on the hot skin. Your hands settle atop hers, letting her wrap around your waist tighter.

[Now I wanna be your dog! Ow!]

“Oh, fuck…” you whimper as she nips at the shell of your ear, her hands gripping tightly over the muscle of your hip, shooting sparks of heat straight to your core.

You can hear her raspy chuckle, and you can already see the smug face she’s wearing in your head. You spin out of her grasp again– she follows along, twirling you a few times before pulling your front against her.

[Ooh, give it to me] 

“Ooh, give it to me.” you sing in unison with the song, smirking up at Emily as she growls in response. Practically eating you alive with her eyes, and god you wish she would.

“You’re naughty…” Emily’s hands slip into your back pockets as her thigh shifts between your legs, pulling you in. To surrounding eyes, the move might simply look like dancing with a girlfriend, but you both know that isn’t the case. Especially with the soft moan that slips from your throat as she flexes subtly, the hard muscle pressing against your center through the fabric of your jeans.

[Now I’m ready to close my eyes]

“Jesus, Emily…” You meet her dark gaze with hooded eyes, nails clawing at her shoulders for stability.

[Now I’m ready to close my mind]

“What, baby?” Emily’s voice is low, if it weren’t for the closeness you wouldn’t have heard it. Her nose brushes against your cheekbone, her breath hot against your skin. You shiver, preening at the use of the pet name.

[Now I’m ready to feel your hands]

“I think… I think we should go somewhere…” you practically pant into her ear, her hands pressing your pelvis into her harshly.

“So needy already, hm?” Emily murmurs, her body swaying to the music.

[Lose my heart on the burning sands, ugh!]

“Yes…” your nails press into the base of her skull, the sharpness makes her hiss.

“You’re gonna have to tell me what you need, or you won’t get anything at all…” Emily’s eyes scan the crowd once again, watching as the team dances, off in their own worlds. You can only whimper in response.

“Although… the idea of letting you stew, all hot and bothered, suffering through seeing me tomorrow and thinking about what I could do to you, does sound quite enticing…” She presses her cheek against yours, her canines grazing the flesh.

“Please…” You’re practically falling at her feet, breathless and desperate for mercy. Desperate for anything she could give you.

“Please what?” 

“Please… I need you.” You pull back for a moment, meeting her eyes with a daring glance. There’s a flash of something deep within her irises, dancing beneath her long lashes.

Emily smirks, studying you for a beat before one of her hands reaches up to brush a few stray hairs from your face, trailing over your cheek and neck before settling against your collarbone.

“There you go…” the lines of her eyes crinkle as her smile widens, her thumb dipping into the hollow of your throat.

[Now I wanna be your dog!]

“Now I wanna be your dog…” you sing quietly, eyes never faltering from hers as a silent declaration.

Emily pulls her lip between her teeth, her palm sliding up your lower back. There’s a faint flush creeping up her exposed chest, you want so badly to press your lips against it. Feel the heat of her soft skin.

“You’re heading into dangerous territory, agent…” Her hand grips at your waist, squeezing just enough for you to let out a quiet yelp.

“I’d like to think I’m well prepared… Chief.”

Emily holds your gaze, just smiling down at you darkly. For a moment it looks kind of like she’s about to lean in and kiss you, but the moment is swiftly whipped away when Penelope makes a sudden appearance.

“GUYS! They’re doing hurricane shots at the bar!! You have to watch!” She babbles excitedly, pulling you and Emily apart and dragging you to the bar.

Emily shoots you a glance, a shocked expression crossing her features. You chuckle, shaking your head as you let yourself get dragged across the room.

The bar is crowded with rowdy patrons as they all watch the bartender climb atop the bar, sitting in front of the eagerly awaiting young man.

His cheeks are flushed a deep shade of crimson as the woman leans in to make sure he’s ready, when he nods there is a roar of cheers and a sea of phones being whipped out to record the interaction.

“Oh my gosh, this is so exciting!!” Penelope squeals, jumping up and down and clutching at your arm.

You look over at Emily with an excited smile, she winks causing you to look back in the direction of the bar.

There’s a short countdown before the man quickly shoots back the shot, lowering his hands to brace himself as the bartender unfurls the cup of water over his face and lands a sharp slap across his jaw.

“Ohhhhh!!” The crowd whoops, bursting out in laughter and cheers as the man flushes impossibly deeper, stumbling out of his stool towards his cheering friends with a cheesy grin.

“Jesus…” Emily murmurs, looking at you and Penelope with a shocked expression, “She did not hold back.”

“I would so do that.” You say aloud before you even realize what you’re confessing.

Penelope turns to you, aghast but intrigued, a bright smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“You should do it! Tonight! Oh my god, let’s do it now!” Penelope jumps up and down excitedly, hands gripping your shoulders as she shakes you.

“Oh man, I don’t know… I’m not sure how I feel about a stranger slapping me.” You tilt your head in contemplation.

“I’ll do it,”  Emily turns toward you, a smirk playing over her lips. “If they even allow that.”

You see a flicker of something behind her eyes, and you are so very interested in what it might be. 

Penelope grows even more excited at her statement, gripping both of your arms and giggling adorably. 

“Oh my gosh, guys… this is going to be so good,” the blonde beams, tugging you and Emily under her arms in a side hug. “You both are freaks... But I love ya!”

“You really wanna slap your subordinate across the face, Prentiss?” You challenge her, chewing at your bottom lip. “In public, nonetheless?”

Emily sighs, letting out a low chuckle. “I am not your boss tonight, Y/l/n… this is just fun between friends.” You notice the flush creeping up her neck as she speaks, and her eyes glistening with the unmistakable sheen of arousal. 

“If you say so…” you smirk, your pointer finger prodding at her waist from behind Penelope’s back. 

Penelope shrieks, dragging you and Emily towards the others.

“Guys! Y/n’s gonna do the hurricane shot with Emily!!” She announces, which grabs a few shocked expressions from the rest of the team.

“Oh, yeah?” JJ gives Emily a suggestive look, arching a brow.

“Yeahhh…” you and Emily say in unison, glancing at each other crookedly.

“Well let’s do it then! I’ll grab some shots and water.” Tara waves her hands up excitedly, stepping off towards the bar.

You stand between Penelope and JJ shyly, your fingers suddenly becoming very interesting.

“Alright… two shots and two waters.” Tara places the tray on the table. “If you guys are gonna do this I wanna see it both ways.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of slapping Emily back, but you most definitely aren’t turned off by the idea. Matter of fact, the idea turns you on… quite a bit.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Emily questions you earnestly, but you can still see the excitement in her eyes as she gets closer.

“Yes. I’m sure.” You hold her gaze longer than you should, just staring. With a nod she steps back, picking up one of the shots before handing the cup of water to you.

“I’ll go first… ready?” She plants her feet on the floor and lowers herself slightly so you can angle yourself better.

“As I’ll ever be…” you laugh as you stand in front of her, readying yourself.

Penelope stands to the side counting down as Emily puts the glass to her lips, when she reaches one, Emily tosses it back as fast as possible, relaxing the muscles of her face in preparation for the incoming slap.

You toss the water at her as soon as her mouth is closed, hesitating momentarily before landing a solid crack just above her jaw.

The group cheers and Emily’s eyes shoot open wide, immediately connecting with yours with a groan. Her black irises gleam dangerously as a welt the shape of your hand forms over her cheek.

“Whew!” Emily shakes herself out, putting the glass back on the table and picking up the water for herself.

“You good?” Tara asks, knuckles pressing into Emily’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m great… that was nothing.” She scoffs. “You hit like a little girl.” 

“Your face says otherwise…” you tease, eyes raking over the red splotch once again.

“Whatever…” Emily rolls her eyes, raising her palm to the side of your head to guide her aim. 

Penelope starts the countdown once again, and you’re shuddering in anticipation, planting your toes and raising the shot glass before tossing it back on the count of one.

The icy water hits you before you even have the chance to fully swallow, and the singe of Emily’s palm against your cheekbone brings tears to your eyes.

Not because you were actually in tremendous pain, it hurt, but that’s simply your body's natural reaction to the deliciously overwhelming nature of what just happened. 

And to be quite honest, you would let her do it again.

You can hear the faint laughs and cheers of the people around you as your mouth falls open, releasing a thick breath as you squint up at Emily through dripping eyelashes. 

Her brows hold a bit of concern in their creases, but the smirk she’s wearing says otherwise. She knows you liked it. 

“That was fun, wow-” You wipe the water from your face, tapping gently at the stinging skin of your cheek. “I think I’m done for the night now…”

“Yeah, I think it’s time we all cool it…” JJ steps behind you, squeezing your shoulders as Penelope hands you a few napkins to dry yourself.

“We all do have to be at work tomorrow morning so…” Emily chuckles, running a hand through her dampened hair. “Don’t want my team chasing killers with hangovers!”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, this was fun!” JJ leans into your side as she bids her goodbyes, repeating the process with the rest of the women before heading to the bar to pay her tab and leave.

You, Tara, Penelope, and Emily settle back down at the table, settling back down at the table for a while, nursing some water and a shared plate of fries.

As the first yawn of the night strikes Tara, she bids her farewells and Penelope soon follows, leaving you and Emily completely alone for the first time tonight.

“So…” Emily starts, standing up and moving to a chair closer to you, she leans back in it, looking over at you— blank of expression except for the faint tilt at the corner of her mouth.

“So?” You mirror her, raising a brow.

“Alone at last…” she smirks, the toe of her boot poking out to slide up the back of your calf. 

“So it seems…” you retort lowly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “How’s your face?”

Emily chuckles, running a hand through her hair before brushing her fingertips over the fading redness on her cheek. “Doesn’t hurt… just stings a little, but it’s good.” She smiles, folding her hands together over her lap. “How’s yours? Looks pretty sore to me…”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Emily just looks at you for a beat, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as her eyes trail over you the same they did at the bar earlier.

There’s a mysterious and alluring tension lingering between the two of you as you stare at each other, a hunger within synced breaths and static touches. The rise and fall of her chest draws your attention as if it’s calling for you through the open collar of her shirt. The sun-dappled constellations across her skin, the sheen of perspiration between her breasts, the dainty chain that sits in the dip of her clavicle— it’s all overwhelming. 

“Dance with me again.” Emily jumps up from her seat and tugs you from yours, not asking, ordering.

“And what if I don’t want to dance?” You slip your fingers between hers and let her lead you to the dance floor.

“Well, you certainly aren’t putting up much of a fight…” Emily murmurs, glancing at you. You admire the slope of her nose as she does so, the faint arch, the sharp tip, the tiny scar below her columella.

You stay silent as Emily guides you into the crowd,  letting it envelop both of you. Shoulders brushing against sweaty bodies, the smell of liquor and the pungent mixture of perfume and body odor filling your senses.

The bass of the music makes your lungs feel as though they’re vibrating, Mars Needs Guitars by the Hoodoo Gurus.

Emily wraps her arm around your waist, pulling you against her and swaying.

[I’m primitive, I’m a primitive man, got a primitive girl, we make primitive love]

The lyrics make the urge to be closer to Emily nearly impossible to ignore, not that you really can get much closer— your chests are already pressed together, bodies sliding against one another.

“Where were we…” Emily smirks, her fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip. “Y'know… before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong…” you scan her face, taking in the gleam in her dark eyes. “But I think you were about to kiss me, Chief…”

[I'm primitive that's what I am, I'm your primitive mate, I wanna be your man]

“Hmm…” Emily sighs, her free hand climbing up your side and landing at the base of your neck. “I think you’re right…” her lips curl into a wolfish grin, perfect teeth fully on display.

“You should. Kiss me, I mean…” your fingers twirl the hairs at the base of her neck, “only if you want to, of cour-” Emily silences you, swooping in and pressing her lips against yours with an aggressive passion.

You let out a shocked moan as her palm cups your jaw, tilting your head as she runs her tongue over your bottom lip. You graciously let her in, opening up just enough for her to lick inside your mouth before twirling against your own muscle.

[I said, I’m primitive, I’m primitive, you know what that means]

Clutching at the nape of her neck, you pull Emily impossibly closer, clawing at her skin and kissing her as if your life depends on it.

Ignoring the surrounding bodies bumping against you, the kiss grows hungrier— deeper.

It’s sloppy and open-mouthed, teeth and tongue clashing carelessly. It’s anything you could ever want, and you desperately need more. 

Pulling back reluctantly, you look Emily in the eye, noting the swollen redness of her lips— her cheeks glazed and flushed. You think about how you probably look quite a mess if the way you felt on the inside matched the outside in any sort.

“You taste good.” Emily murmurs, leaning down and pressing a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth, the tip of her nose pressing into your hotly blushing cheek.

“I want you to taste more…” you groan, pulling her mouth back to yours, sealing your lips together and sucking in a sharp breath. “Do you want that, Emily?” Another kiss. “To taste me...”

“God, I want that so much.” She says through gritted teeth, “Let me take you home… have my way with you…” The hand that was on your jaw slips in your hair, tugging just enough for your head to tilt back. 

You let her trail hot kisses over your throat, without a single care that wandering eyes can see. 

“Please…” you whisper through panting breaths, “I want-hm… do whatever you want, I’m all yours.”

Emily’s lips drag over your pulse point and jaw, nipping at the skin every once and a while. “That’s quite the statement, agent…” she nips at your earlobe, “do you think you can handle me?”

“Yes…” you gasp as she digs her thumb into your hip, sucking the earlobe into her mouth. “I want it… I can take it.” You turn slightly to press a kiss to her cheekbone, your hand sliding down the back of her neck and under the collar of her shirt, before settling between her shoulder blades.

Her skin is hot to the touch, sweat lingering in the dips of muscle— you want nothing more than to lick it off of her.

“Come on…” Emily slips from your grasp all too quickly, her hand grasping yours and pulling you back out of the crowd.

The lights and bodies blur around you as you’re tugged along, you can make out the phone in Emily’s hand, probably setting up a ride as she is way too respectable to get herself a DUI in the name of sex.

Emily’s hand slips from yours when you reach the table, making quick work of scooping up both of your belongings. With a nod of her head you’re following her out the door, hand fisted in the back of her blouse as you try to keep up.

“Impatient are we?” You joke, nudging at her hip through the fabric.

Emily shoots you a warning look as she holds the exit door open, making sure to slip a quick handful of your ass when you pass, pulling a squeak from your throat.

The waiting period is short, but still incredibly awkward. The brisk nighttime breeze— blowing Emily’s raven hair into her face. You watch with desperate eyes as she lifts a hand and tucks the flyaways behind her ear.

The night casts a blue film over her body— pale, sweat-dampened skin, glowing in the moonlight. She looks like pure sex and adrenaline, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths as she turns to look at you.

“Are you sure you’re sure about this? You can always back out and we can just keep it… mildly professional…” Emily trails off, searching your expression for any form of doubt.

“I think I made it pretty clear what I want, Emily. I want to do this—” You step closer, taking her hand in one of yours while the other cups the side of her neck. “I want you.”  Your lips brush against hers as you pull her in, tongue darting out to moisten the skin before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. 

Emily’s hand clutches at your waist as she moves to deepen the kiss, her lips parting and letting your tongue dip inside— dancing over her teeth and twirling with her hot muscle. 

If you could equate the feeling to anything, it would be like slipping a nicotine pouch into your mouth and letting it soak into your gums. The sweet taste of her mouth pulls a sting from your salivary glands as if you’re sucking on a sour lozenge.

Your hips press against Emily’s, the cool metal of her belt buckle nipping at your belly through the thin fabric of your shirt.

A moan slips from your throat, fingers tangling in hairs at the nape of Emily’s neck. You hear her groan as you tug gently, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine.

The sound of tires on gravely pavement and the obnoxious beeping of a car horn pull you out of the moment. 

“Cars here…” Emily whispers against your lips, a small smile tugging at the corners of hers.

With a sigh, you step back— letting Emily open the car door for you to fall inside. The driver greets you with a disdained ‘Hello, Emily?’ To which she responds with a ‘yes’, buckling her seatbelt and urging you to do the same.

Emily’s hand lands atop your knee, her thumb pressing into the flesh teasingly. You give her a pleading look. A look that begs for her to keep touching you and never stop. She just smiles.

Somehow you both manage to keep it PG for the entire ride to Emily’s place, not wanting to traumatize the poor driver.

Her quaint townhouse is unsurprisingly gorgeous, exactly the type of home you’d picture a woman like Emily Prentiss living in. The brick walls are pristinely kept, with some sort of ivy growing over them.  

“This is nice…” you exhale, eyes wandering over the building. Emily’s hand is steady on your lower back as she guides you towards the front door.

“Thank you… I’m quite fond of it myself.” She chuckles, pulling her keys from her purse and unlocking the door.

Stepping inside, you’re met with a rush of something entirely Emily. The scent of her perfume and musky cashmere candles— even the familiar note of her Marlboro cigarettes in the air.

You watch as Emily places her things down and tosses her keys into a dish on the entryway table, then turns to face you— leaning her hip against it.

You stalk over to her, placing your things next to hers and mirroring the position, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you take in her form below the dim light of the foyer.

“Hi.” She murmurs, her hand reaching up to run along the side of your face.

“Hi…” you lean into her palm, fluttering your lashes as you stare at her. Her thumb brushes over the sore spot on your cheek and you suck in a hissed breath.

“Still sore?” Emily’s eyes trail over the blotchy red spot over your cheekbone before leaning in and pressing a featherlight kiss over the sensitive skin.

“Just a little, only to the touch.” 

“Hmm…” Emily pulls back, the tip of her nose brushing against yours. “A little pain isn’t a bad thing…”  

Your gaze falls to her mouth, entranced by the way her lips move as she speaks, the delicate lines in the rosy skin— the dimples that make her angular and sexily aged face look rather adorable.

“Definitely not,” you wrap your arms around her waist, nestling into her.

“You’re a tease, y’know?” Emily chuckles, her fingers raking through your hair.

“Enlighten me?” You smirk, tucking a hand in the back pocket of her trousers.

“Well for one…” she dips down and presses a single lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth. “You’re so eager to please…and I love that.” Her hand fists at your hair—forcibly yanking your head backward, making room to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a desperate gasp.

“Like right now for example…” She sucks at the sweet spot below your pulse point. “Letting me pull your hair, mark you up like we don’t have work in the morning…” her teeth sink into the curve of your jaw, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“So needy…” you feel her nails against your scalp, her tongue dragging hot, wet lines over your skin. “You’re practically a puddle on my floor, love…”

“Please— Emily…” 

“Please what?” She nips at your earlobe before pulling back to look you in the eye. “You’re gonna have to use words if you want something.” 

“Take me to bed…” your hands grasp at her back, clawing at her through the fabric. “Please—need you.” You breathe wildly as your hand moves to fiddle with the buttons of her shirt, fingertips prodding at her sweltering skin through the seams.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” Her hand slides from your hair, her thumb and index finger pinching at your chin to lift your face towards her. 

“Yes… I’ll be so good. Whatever you want… I need it.” You surge forward, attacking her mouth with enough force that she stumbles backward. 

She corrects herself quickly, gripping at your head as she deepens the kiss. Her teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging on it before letting it pop back into place.

Your breath fans across her face as you just stare at each other with lust-filled eyes. Emily smiles devilishly, her hand wrapping around your throat with a groan as she pulls you back to her mouth.

She kisses you almost selfishly, stealing all the air from your lungs as she practically swallows you whole. 

You fumble with the buttons of her shirt as her tongue licks into your mouth, popping them open from the bottom up. 

The air grows stifling as the sounds of your mouth against Emily’s fill the room. The moans, the frantic sounds of wet suction, the ruffling of clothes against bodies… It's completely suffocating in the best of ways.

Emily tightens her grip on your throat as she begins slipping off her shoes, kicking them to the side as she pulls you towards the bedroom— you can’t help but whine.

You manage to completely open her shirt by the time the back of her heels hit the stairs, your palms flattening over her belly. You can feel goosebumps spreading over the soft flesh as your nails dig into her sides. 

Emily releases your mouth with an audible pop as she slides her hand from your throat and down to the collar of your shirt— gripping it and pulling you up the stairs.

Your eyes are wide and wild as you make the treacherous climb, hands clambering at the walls— at the back of Emily’s legs.

The second floor smells more like Emily than the first, and it excites you more than you could ever possibly enunciate.

With a wickedly strong hand, Emily shoves you into the bedroom door. Forcing a small grunt out as you collide with the solid wood, it morphs into a gasp as her lips reattach to yours.

With her body pressed firmly against you, her hands start roaming over your clothed skin aimlessly. You reach for the doorknob, twisting it open and stumbling inside as she grips at your shirt. 

Her fingertips slide beneath the fabric, running over your stomach and the sides of your rib cage before pulling the offending fabric over your head and discarding it.

Her hands cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly through your bra. You let out a choked moan at the sensation, your hands knotting in her hair as you try your hardest to keep kissing her.

Emily doesn’t linger long outside of your bra, making quick work of pushing you further into the room and swiftly unclasping it with practiced ease.

“Bed.” Emily’s voice is low and raspy as she orders you, her hands tugging the bra from your arms and forcibly shoving you down onto the mattress.

“Yes, ma’am.” You gasp, scooting up onto your elbows and spreading your legs mindlessly— already so accommodating.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” Emily growls, unbuckling her belt and slipping her trousers off before crawling over you and settling against your pelvis.

You catch a glimpse of the simple black cotton briefs she has on, the color starkly contrasting her pale thighs.

“I couldmh-” Her lips are on yours again before you can finish your sentence. The kiss is urgent, her mouth opening and closing against yours desperately.

She moves her assault down your neck and chest, giving you a chance to catch your breath. “I could say-hmph.. the same for you—oh fuck.” her lips close around your nipple, sucking the already pebbled flesh into a solid peak.

Emily’s teeth scrape over the bud before soothing the sting with a swirl of her tongue, while her hand works in tandem with the opposite breast; squeezing, tweaking, pinching.

“Fuck that feel nice…” you pant, sitting up in your elbows to watch as Emily continues her affections.

“Yeah?” Her eyes flick up to yours, irises black and shining. Her cheeks shine with a faint dusting of flush, highlighting the sharpness of her cheekbones.

Her tongue is boiling against your already hot skin, dragging over each dip and curve with an agonizing slowness.

“Yes… love your mouth.” Emily smiles as she swiftly moves lower, biting just below the curve of your breast. Your head falls back with a sigh as she moves to take your nipple in her mouth again— hollowing her cheeks as she sucks, flicking her tongue over the swollen bud.

Your hands claw at the back of her neck and shoulders, pulling her closer. 

“Such a gorgeous thing… so perfect.” Emily groans, releasing you from her mouth and climbing back up to kiss you again.

“Thank you…” you smile into the kiss, nipping at Emily’s bottom lip before swiping your tongue over it. Emily chuckles, taking your tongue into her mouth and closing her lips around it.

Your hands wrap around her middle, trailing over her sides and up to the clasp of her bra. “May I?” You whisper, pressing a light peck to her top lip.

“I suppose…” Emily practically purrs, her arms sliding up so her elbows rest on both sides of your head—trapping you.

The clasp is undone in a matter of seconds, the fabric falling loosely between the two of you.

“Let me see you.” Your hands press at her waist, urging her to sit up, but she doesn’t budge.

“That’s not how we ask for things, sweetheart.” Emily’s hand moves to cup your face, her thumb sliding over your jawline and down to your throat.

“Please… I want to see you—please let me see you.” You practically moan, your body writhing desperately beneath her weight.

“Good girl.” Emily smirks, patting your cheek. You can’t help but whimper at the residual stinging from the slap earlier.

Emily sits back on her heels, slipping the bra from her arms slowly, teasingly. Your eyes are wide as you watch her, scrambling up onto your elbows. 

You trail your gaze from where her hips meet your inner thighs up to her face— the delicious curve of her hips, the lines of her belly that falls ever-so-slightly over the edge of her pants, the dusting of freckles across her skin, the heaviness of her breasts as they drop from the cups of her bra.

“Oh, fuck me.” you sigh, eyes frantically taking in every detail you could find. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over this…” you laugh in disbelief— can she get any sexier?

You reach out, fingertips barely making contact before she’s shoving you back down on the mattress— one hand holding your wrists above your head while her other is wrapped solidly around the base of your neck.

“I never said you could touch.” Emily looms over you, her face mere inches away from yours. You can feel her breasts pressing against your own, her belly brushing against your pelvis with each breath.

“I’m sorry… Please, let me touch you.” You whimper, eyes pleading.

“I might have to teach you a lesson if you keep misbehaving like this, y/n…” Her tongue flicks out to lick her lips, the tip of her thumb feeling along the ridges of your esophagus. “You wanna touch me so bad, hm?”

“Yes. Please, Emily... God, please let me touch you.” You’re practically gasping for air as you beg, the feeling of her body over you, her hand on your neck, her lips just out of reach— it’s all too much.

“I love it when you beg. So eager…” Her thumb prods at your lips and you let your mouth fall open, allowing her entrance. “I’ll let you touch... but on one condition.” The pad of her thumb presses down on your tongue, all you do is nod.

“I’m gonna sit on your face, and you’re gonna make me cum…” you moan at her words, closing your lips around her digit. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. Oh god, yes.” Your hands clutch the pillows where they’re being held. Emily smiles, craning down and pressing a rough kiss to your mouth.

She slides off of the mattress, pulling her panties down and tossing them at you. Her scent hits you almost immediately, the rich, heady smell of arousal and something purely Emily.

This might just kill you.

“Lay back on the pillows.” Emily instructs and you nod, eagerly moving up the bed.

Emily crawls back onto the mattress like a panther, her hair falling like a curtain around her face, enhancing the dark look in her eyes. You feel like you’re being hunted and you couldn’t be happier.

Emily straddles your waist first, leaning down to kiss over the hickeys on your chest and neck— her hands grasp at the headboard as she moves up to your head. You wrap your arms around the back of her thighs as she gets comfortable, palms sliding over the smooth skin.

Your mouth waters as she gets closer, the source of her arousal only inches away from your face.

“Stick your tongue out.” Emily barks, you oblige— opening your mouth and letting the muscle hang out as far as it’ll go.

She smiles innocently at you before lowering her sex onto your awaiting mouth. You groan at the taste, the vibrations pulling a gasp from Emily’s throat.

Her hips stutter slightly as she grinds herself along your tongue. You grip her ass, holding her steady as she moves.

Emily’s hand falls from the headboard, landing at the crown of your head— gripping at your hair as her hips begin rutting harder against your mouth. 

She uses her grip to angle and maneuver you, fucking herself on your tongue. You curl the muscle ever so slightly, letting it dip inside. 

She tastes absolutely heavenly and you can’t get enough. 

Panting breaths fall from her lips as she lets the pleasure overtake her, letting her weight settle atop you. It grows a bit hard to breathe, but you couldn’t care less. Emily Prentiss is actively riding your face— a better death does not exist. 

You gaze up at her with heavy lids, watching the way her breasts sway with her motions, the way the muscles in her stomach clench each time you rub against a sensitive spot, the sweat glazing over her chest. You can feel the trimmed hair over her pubic bone tickling lightly at your nose.

You reach a hand up, cupping a singular breast and brushing a thumb over her nipple. Emily groans, meeting your eyes with parted lips. The hand in your hair screws tighter causing you to moan against her— she twitches, breathing out a quiet whimper.

“Fuck, baby… such a good mouth.” Emily pants, her pace quickening as she chases her orgasm. You squeeze at her breasts with both hands this time, pinching at her nipples.

Her hips grind fast and hard against your mouth as she reaches the final throes leading up to her orgasm. The sound of your mouth against her sex is absolutely filthy, tongue and lips working in tandem, sucking and licking.

“Shit—” Emily hisses, shuddering above you, her body clenching and face screwing up with pleasure as she tumbles over the edge. 

You feel her pussy flutter against your tongue as she eases herself through her orgasm. Your hands fall to her sides, squeezing gently as an aid.

“Hmm…” Emily sighs, her fingers untangling from your hair and running over the messy locks, smoothing them. 

She looks down at you again, her face flushed a deep red. You run the tip of your tongue through her slit, flicking at the underside of her clit, teasing— she flinches, swatting your forehead and lifting herself off your face.

“Naughty girl…” Emily dismounts, swinging a leg over you and sitting back in her heels.

You just smile dazedly up at her, limbs flopping against the bed and face slick with the remnants of Emily’s arousal.

She leans in, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. Her tongue— licking into your mouth, humming as she tastes herself on you.

“You taste good.” You murmur between kisses, hands sliding over her sides. Emily hums a wordless agreement, her hand inching its way over your thigh. Her nails drag over the sensitive skin, you spread for her, hoping for any kind of relief from the burning affliction between your legs.

“I can feel how wet you are from all the way out here…” Emily whispers, her fingertips teasing the hem of your underwear near your inner thigh. “So warm…” Her palm slides over your covered mound and up to your abdomen. You pant, your body arching into her touch. 

“You did good.” Emily hums, nipping at your jaw, her hand tracing delicate patterns over your chest. “Now… I want you…” she pauses, circling your nipple. “To sit at the edge of the bed, I’ll be right back.” With that, Emily abruptly slips from your grasp— leaving you exposed, goosebumps engulfing your body as the cool air rushes in.

“What…” you furrow your brows, reluctantly sitting up and following her orders. You watch as Emily nakedly disappears into what appears to be a walk-in closet.

Taking a moment to breathe, you inhale to a count of three, hold, then exhale the same. As Emily fumbles around in the wardrobe, your heart thumps wildly in your chest with anticipation.

When she re-emerges, a wave of heat rushes straight to your core.

Clad in nothing but a thick leather harness over her hips, she stalks towards you holding two dildos— one probably average-sized and the other a bit smaller.

“Take your pick.” She holds them out.

You analyze them both for a moment, either would be fine, but she wants you to decide.

Biting your lip, you take them from her, feeling their weight—their girth in your hands. You decide on the bigger of the two, you most certainly won’t mind feeling the remnants of tonight in the morning.

“This one.” You go to hand it back to her, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“Strap it in for me, baby.” Emily steps closer, jutting her hits towards you and tossing the other dildo onto the nightstand.

Nodding, you slip from the bed— landing on your knees in front of her. Emily hums at the sight, her fingers smoothing over your hair.

Once the toy is secured, you look up at her with wide eyes, nibbling at your lip. Your hands slide over her calves and up her outer thighs, steadying yourself as you lean in, pressing a kiss to the tip of the toy's head.

“Fuck, you don’t have to do that…”

“I want to…” you sit up a bit, pressing a kiss below her belly button, taking the length of the toy in your hand and stroking it slowly as if it were a part of her body. 

And with the soft noises Emily makes, it certainly feels like it might be. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock, baby? Get it nice and wet for me?” Emily's voice is rich as velvet as she strokes your hair, her hips rocking forward in your hand.

You lick a stripe along the underside of the shaft, humming at the feeling of its ridges against your tongue, the faint taste of cool silicone.

Your eyes stay on hers as you take the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue over it before urging forward— taking about half its length before you pull away in favor of not gagging.

“Jesus Christ…” Emily crouches, bringing herself more in reach. “Such a perfect little slut… on her knees, taking my cock so well.” 

You moan at the filthy praise, your sex clenching around nothing as you grind subtlety into the air. 

Her hand clutches at your scalp while the other rests on her hip, not forcing your head— but keeping it steady as you bob slowly, taking more and more length with each pass. 

Your eyes water as the toy hits the back of your throat, but you don’t relent. You just keep pulling her closer, urging her on. Emily groans, somewhat in awe of how well you’re doing.

You watch her face the best you can through teary eyes, noting how her brows knit together each time you release faint noises around the toy, gurgling tremendous amounts of saliva as you let her fuck your mouth.

“Fuck, enough of that… get on the bed.” Emily tugs you by the hair, pulling your mouth from the appendage. “Now.”

You gasp as she spins you, shoving you down face first— pinning you to the mattress, your feet still planted firmly on the floor.

One hand remains tangled in your hair while the other grips at your hip, pulling you against her. The toy prods at your inner thigh, and you can feel her hot breath against the back of your neck as she hunches over you.

“God, I bet you’re drenched…” she growls, the hand that was on your hip— snaking between your legs, her svelte fingers sliding through your slick folds. “Hmm, would you look at that… I was right.”

You buck into her hand as she brushes against your clit, pulling a needy whine from your throat.

“Please…” you pant, arching into the mattress.

You can feel Emily’s breasts pressing into your shoulder blades as she lets her weight fall onto you, keeping you in place.

“Please what?” She draws featherlight circles over your swollen nub. 

“Please— Emily… fuck me.” You let out a choked moan as she adds more pressure, tweaking it between scissored fingers. “I need it… please. I need you inside of me.” Your body shudders, knees weak as she nips at the cartilage of your ear.

“Hmm, good girl.” Her thumb runs through your slit, teasing at your entrance before dipping inside.

You mumble out your pleasure in illegible babbles, body gyrating against the mattress in an attempt to further soothe the desperate— burning ache in your sex.

“More…” you pant, hands clutching at the duvet. “I- fuck...” a sharp moan tears from you as she pulls out and pumps two fingers inside you, curling— pressing.

“Such a needy girl…” Emily purrs against your ear, dipping down to bite at your shoulder. “Taking my fingers so well.” She puts more force behind her thrusts, the lewd squelching sounds echoing throughout the room.

“Oh—fuck…” you push back against her, needing to feel her deeper. The hand in your hair loops over your shoulder to squeeze your breast aggressively. 

“You want my cock, baby?” She pinches your nipple between her middle and index finger. “Want me to fill that pretty pussy?”

“Fuck yes. Please...” You crane your neck, her nose pressing against your cheek as you pant. “God, please fuck me.”

“Spread your legs.” She nips at your jaw, fingers slipping from your clenching pussy and gripping the base of her cock, coating it with your arousal. 

You spread yourself open as much as possible, raising a knee to rest against the mattress with a whimper. You can feel your wetness dribbling down the inside of your thighs, it’s humiliating and Emily is eating it right up.

“What a fucking slut… making such a mess.” Emily runs the tip of the toy through your folds, before drawing teasing circles over your clit. “So desperate to get fucked, spreading herself open for me. God, you’re perfect.”

You moan at the praise, arching your back and jutting your ass into the air. Emily groans, slapping your ass cheek before canting forward, barely pressing the head of her cock inside.

“Ooh, fuck.” You moan, clutching at the sheets as you brace yourself for the intrusion. “Fuck me…” 

“I am fucking you, baby.” Emily mocks, expelling a breathy chuckle before rutting herself even deeper inside. 

The pressure forces a silent moan out of your throat as you clutch at the bed sheets. The ridges of her cock— rubbing delectably against all the sensitive spots within your walls, stretching, filling you up.

The rhythm of Emily’s thrusts begin to gain more fluidity, dragging the entire length back and forth in an agonizingly slow gesture, the head tapping at your cervix with each pass.

“Shit… harder.” You pant, using your hands to rock back against her thrusts.

Emily straightens out with a guttural groan, a sudden gust of cool air fans across your back in her absence, sending a shiver down your spine.

Her strong hands clutch at your hips, fingernails digging sharply into your skin as she pulls your pelvis towards her forcibly, meeting her thrusts— the entire length of her cock slamming into you without relent.

The pure force of it nearly knocks the wind out of you, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure pooling wildly, deep in your gut.

“Fu-uck…holy…shit…ohmygod.” You moan, your words escaping in choked spurts as you drop from your hand to rest on your forearms. 

“Mm, I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to fuck you.” Emily murmurs, you can hear her panting breaths as she keeps up her rhythm. “I've been wanting to have you like this since the day I met you…” 

You hardly register the words as they float over your head, the feeling of Emily’s aggressive pounding practically knocking your brain from its place in your skull. But you register them enough that a faint smile curls into your mouth as your top half falls limp against the bed. Your bottom half pushes up onto tippy-toes, better angling yourself for the older woman. 

“Me too… God, you’re so fucking hot, Emily.” Your body feels like it’s burning as you try to steady your erratic breathing. “You feel so good…”

“I know I do, baby…” You can feel the smirk on Emily’s face as she says that, one of her hands shifting to swipe over your hypersensitive clit. 

You twitch at the sensation, your body arching into the air— attempting to further itself from Emily’s hand against your own will. But God, you want her to touch you like that. To work and play with your body till you’re shaking and crying with overstimulation.

“So sensitive…” She purrs, the hand that’s still in your hip travels up the length of your spine, her palm pressing into your tense muscles, before landing at the base of your neck— tangling in the hairs and shoving your head into the soft duvet.

Somehow, her thrusts manage to hit even deeper with the new angle. Her body looming over your back as she angles the toy downward— you can feel her in your guts, the skin of your lower belly brushing against the sheets as the tip prods through the skin.

Emily’s hand on your clit seems to sense it, easing up on the throbbing bundle of nerves and sliding to cup herself over your abdomen.

“Feel that, baby?” Emily presses her palm against the protrusion, adding pressure as her thrusts slow but gain in force. “Feel how fucking deep I am?”

“Ungh- yes… I love it.” You gasp, letting the Unit Chief manhandle your body. The power of her hips, plowing you further into the mattress— her hands, firm against the back of your neck and belly. You can hear the slapping of skin on skin, her heavy panting, the thumping of blood in your ears.

Emily groans at your desperation, gripping harder at the back of your neck and tangling her fingers in the hair at your nape. Your back arches almost painfully as she tugs, using it as an aid as she fucks into you.

“Mm, scoot up on the bed for me.” She grits, her voice low and gravelly as she uses her free hand to lift your lower half onto the mattress. You can’t hold back the whimper that falls from your lips as her cock slips out, the wet silicone— dragging a slick trail over your inner thigh.

Emily grabs your waist as you try to move up the bed with wobbly limbs, flipping you onto your back. Her hands slide up the back of your thighs, cupping the posterior of your knees and pressing them to your stomach.

The feeling of her hot mouth over your sex shocks you, a squeak slipping out as you twitch against her flicking tongue. The muscle is anything but gentle as she licks through your puffy folds— dipping into your entrance and gathering your arousal with a pointed tongue, before spreading it messily over your clit.

“Oh!” You yelp, your hands moving to grip at her scalp through parted legs. 

“Mm, you taste good.” Emily hums, the vibrations sending an extra wave of pleasure straight through you. Your hips buck wildly, already overly-sensitive from the aggressive onslaught of her strap-on. 

Placing a final wet kiss on your clit— Emily rises, shifting so that her pelvis is pressed to your ass, the toy resting between your legs. With a wolfish grin, she releases one of your knees, using the now free hand to align the toy with your entrance.

Your breath comes in frantic, shuddered gasps as you watch her. She teasingly swipes the tip through your folds before slapping over your clit, causing you to twitch and whimper quietly.

Your hands settle on the base of her ribcage as she uses her thumb to press the head inside, the majority of its length gliding in without any resistance.

“Hm–fuck.” You gaze up at Emily through half-lidded eyes, her face and chest red and glistening with sweat from all the exertion. 

Leaning back and resting a hand on the bed, her hips begin rolling into you smoothly. Her eyes travel the length of your body, so thick and heavy with the weight of desire it makes you dizzy.

Her lips part as she pants slightly, her breasts swaying with each roll of her hips— muscles beneath the soft skin of her abdomen flexing.

You let your head fall back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you try to focus on how she feels inside you. The feeling of her long fingers gripping at your thigh as she pulls you against her, the blunt ridges of her cock rubbing against your g-spot— knocking tiny whimpers and moans out of you with each pass. The familiar, and rather rapid, burn of a climax building in your womb. 

Emily’s thumb stroking your clit pulls you out of your thoughts, forcing you up onto your elbows. You manage to look up at her again, she meets your eyes with a smile— bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she watches your body shiver under her ministrations. 

“How ya doing, baby?” She purrs, licking at her thumb before placing it back on your clit, circling. “Feel good?” 

“Yes… harder- I need you harder.” You reach out, clutching at her forearm. “Wanna cum so bad. Please.”

“Yeah?” Emily leans forward, the hand that was on your thigh moving to wrap around the base of your throat as the one on your clit loops under your arm, bracing herself between the pillows and your shoulder blade. “My needy girls gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?” 

You can only nod as her fingertips press into the sides of your neck, staring up at her in a lightheaded daze. She uses her grip as leverage as she speeds up, pulling you into her powerful thrusts. 

Your eyes practically roll out of their sockets at the overwhelming feeling of it all. Your stomach and breasts sliding against one another as a layer of sweat forms between overheating bodies. 

“Open.” you hear Emily murmur, nipping at your bottom lip. Eagerly obliging— you tilt your chin up to meet her, letting your mouth fall open. Her saliva coats your tongue not even a second later, you groan at the taste of her, letting it settle into your tastebuds for a moment before swallowing.

“Thank you.” You smile, pleased, craning up to kiss her again. 

She catches your moans in her mouth as she fucks you hard and steady— taking what she wants without abandon, and you’re more than happy to let her do so. 

Your arms wrap around her torso, nails digging into the muscles of her mid and upper back, muscles that flex and curve with each perfectly calculated, punishing thrust. Emily hisses and you think for a moment that you might’ve drawn blood— but the worry is quickly washed away as the hand on your neck snakes between your legs, pressing down on your swollen nub.

A sob wracks through you as you hurdle closer and closer toward the edge, that consistently rising flame in your gut rapidly approaching a full blaze. 

“Fuck, Emily… so close- please, can I cum?” you choke out, eyes struggling to stay open as her intensity grows.

“Good girl, go on…” she puffs, her mouth moving to suckle at your neck. “Cum for me, honey.” 

The mixture of Emily’s low, rough voice, her teeth nipping at your jugular, and the fingers on your clit— shoves you right off that cliff. The coil of tension in your belly snaps like a wishbone, causing your body to lock up on itself. Your muscles tremble and your sex clamps down on Emily, holding her in place. 

Your mouth falls open with a silent scream as the immense pleasure distorts your features, eyes clenching shut— forehead crinkling. It’s like a fireworks show setting off on the back of your eyelids as you let the waves wash over you, flashes of pure white heat. 

Emily noses at your jaw as your body relaxes— trembling in her tight grasp. 

“Jesus Christ…” she chuckles wryly, pressing sloppy kisses over your chin and cheek. 

“Fuck, I think I might’ve just seen him.” Your arms fall limp at your sides, fingers splaying out over the sheets in an attempt to bring yourself back to earth. Your pussy flutters around the toy as the final aftershocks run their course, your breathing quick and shallow. 

Emily laughs again, nipping at your collarbone before letting her head fall to rest against your shoulder. 

“Man, I am getting way too old for this.” She lets out a drastic sigh. “My back will most definitely be feeling it in the morning.”

You scoff, swatting at the back of her head. Emily shoots up, giving you a curious but challenging look.

“Oh, stop it.” You pet the offending spot gently, soothing whatever hypothetical pain she might be feeling. “You are not old.”

“Forty-six is pretty damn old…” she arches her brow.

“More like pretty damn sexy…” you grin cheesily at the Unit Chief, raising your hand to wipe a few sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead. 

Emily smirks, growling as she swoops down, kissing you hard. You wrap your arms around her waist, your body arching into her as her strap shifts inside of you faintly. With a burst of confidence, you shove the older woman off— flipping her onto her back and swinging your leg over her hips before letting the toy sink inside you once again.

She stares up at you with wide eyes as you let out a breathy moan, grinding your hips subtly.

“Now you don’t have to worry about your back.” You tease, smirking down at her as your palms land on her chest, cupping her breasts.

“Mhm…” Emily’s hand clutches at your hips, her thumb digging into the sensitive muscle over your hip bones while the other folds behind her head. “Maybe I should just sit back and enjoy the show? Let you do all the work?”  

“Well where’s the fun in that?” you whine, frowning at her as you pick up speed— raising off the toy momentarily before plopping back down into Emily’s lap and repeating the process over again. 

“But you look so pretty like this…” Her fingers trail over your stomach, the muscles twitching beneath the skin as she passes, cupping your breast in her palm and tweaking your nipple with her thumb. “And I must say, I do love watching you work for it.”

A whimper slips past your lips as she brings her hand out from behind her head, wetting the pad of her thumb with her tongue before pressing it to your clit, drawing slow circles.

“Emily…” you groan, falling forward onto your elbows, your face inches away from Emily’s. “Fuck me.” 

She doesn’t need much convincing because as soon as those words slip from your mouth it’s like a switch flips. Her arm wraps around you, fingers tangling at your scalp and tugging your head back harshly. Her mouth is at your throat next, teeth scrapping over the thin skin. 

She plants her feet on the mattress and fucks up into you, hard and fast, forcing a strangled sound to escape from the depths of your throat.

“This what you wanted?” The skin of her hips slaps against the back of your thighs. “Wanted me to pull on your hair and fuck the shit out of you like the slut you are?”

“Yes-ohfuck, yes…” you gasp, the head of her cock hitting particularly deep while the base of her harness nudges at your clit.

“Dirty fucking girl…” Her palm lands on your ass with a sharp slap, the sound of it cracking through the near-silent room. 

“Mph, shit- slap me again.” You cry out, clutching at her shoulders as you try to sit up, rocking against her thrusts.

Another slap comes down on your ass, more solid this time. You smile at the mix-up, spanking is nice but you want something more. You want it hard and across your cheek, you want her to grip at your jaw so hard it feels like it might break under the pressure, God you want her to do it all. 

“No… hm-slap me across the face.” You pant out, meeting her eyes. “Please…” 

“Fuck… I knew you liked that.” She groans, her hands slipping for your hair and cupping your cheek, rubbing at it before pulling back and landing a harsh crack against the flesh. 

You let your head roll with the force of her hand, the sting shooting straight between your legs as Emily smiles up at you almost as if she were in awe.

“I loved it.” You correct her, falling back down against her damp chest and burying your face in the crook of her neck. Breathing her in, you note the faint smell of sweat mixed with the lingering essence of her perfume. 

You run your tongue over the vein that protrudes just above her collarbones, tasting the saltiness of her skin. Emily puffs out a shaky breath as she keeps up her fast-paced rhythm, using both hands on your hips to move your body in time with the strokes.

“Emily-” You gasp, clutching tightly at her as your second orgasm begins to build. 

“Yeah? Already close baby?” She turns her head, her cheek squishing against yours. 

“Yes… fuck keep going, just like that.” Your teeth graze at her pulse point, the movements of both bodies growing wild and sloppy— aimed solely at getting you there.

You can feel her nails digging into your skin, freckling your waist and hips with tiny red crescent moons. Your chests rise and fall rapidly in tandem, and by the looks of it, Emily might be on the verge too.

“Can you feel it?” you ask, dipping a hand down to tweak her nipple. 

“Yes, might cum with you if you keep doing that…” Emily’s voice is almost needy as she says it, and you might be addicted to how desperation sounds on her. 

You hum, pinching harder— she reacts with a jerk of her hips, slamming the head of her cock into your cervix. 

“Shit, Em-” You moan, panting wildly against her neck. 

She keeps pumping into you like that, jerking up roughly and hitting the same spot over and over again— it drives you absolutely wild. You can feel the muscles in your legs begin shaking as they struggle against the rhythm, relying completely on Emily’s strength to keep you going.

“Using nicknames now, are we?” She chuckles breathily, bumping her head against yours as she tries to face you.

“Shut up…” you avoid her gaze, shying into her neck further.

“Look at me.” Her tone is one that makes your ears perk up, immediately doing as you're told. “I wanna see the look on your face when you cum, you look so gorgeous like that.”

Your lips part slightly, eyes locking on her with heavy lids as you try to keep them open.

“That’s a good girl…” Sweat beads at Emily’s temples and down the valley of her breasts. “Come on, cum for me again, baby.” 

Just watching the look on her face is enough to push you over the edge, your spine curling into the air as the floodgates burst inside you, ripping a shuddered moan from your throat.

You can hear Emily’s quiet gasps as she keeps pumping, chasing her own orgasm. She finishes not long after with a shudder and a low groan through clenched teeth before promptly pulling the toy out. 

Your torso lies limp against her, breathing quick and shallow as you work through the tiny shocks that seem to wrack your entire body. Emily’s palm slides over your spine, rubbing soothing patterns over your vertebrae. 

“Thank you.” you rasp, pressing a chaste kiss below her ear.

“You did well...” her blunt fingernails scratch over your shoulders, a wave of goosebump spreading across your naked skin. “So good for me.”

You smile softly at the praise, the gentleness of it juxtaposing with the rest of the night almost hilariously. Emily shifts below you, single handedly loosening the harness and wiggling out of it— tossing it haphazardly into the room.

“How does a bath sound?”

—————————————————————————

A/n: i hope you guys enjoyed reaading that as much as i enjoyed writing it... happy masturbation!!

Taglist: @keepinggcomposure @lez-talk1 @joanofvarc @darkcolorphantom @kat-prentiss @seasonsmaywinter @piiinco @nikoniclove @maybe-a-humanbean @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @mrsines @decadentcatcrusade @inlovewithlaurenlopez @jeansmartswhxre @prentisslvrsworld @criminalmindswhore @xoxo-maryssa @prentissmultiverse @blackcatlesbo @sleep-deprived-athlete @marvelover123 @21cannibal @katieswain123 @teeshatequila

[messers-moony]

Home | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five goes through everything with his best friend, and when they return with the announcement of their marriage his siblings are appalled. 

Request: “I can request a FiveXreader where the reader is loving, sweet and naive, Five's best friend but the reader has no powers (You can invent a way how they became best friends and they are in love with each other, cliché but I love) One day the reader was sitting in front of the Umbrella Academy and saw Five leave in a hurry (The scene that he will travel in time) In this the reader does not abandon Five and decides to travel in time with him, they end up trapped in the apocalylipse, can you make them stay together?  (Like married I don't know) And also the scene where they go back to 2019? Sorry, if this so bored”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. After a failed mission, he and his siblings decided to sneak out. Klaus had spotted a park on the way home, and that’s where they went. For the first time in years, they felt like kids again. They were all ten years old and had never experienced a playground before. Allison had never laughed as much, and Diego seemed to finally forget his insecurities while swinging from monkey bars. 

Even on occasion, Luther would help Ben cross the monkey bars. Vanya was finally included, and Klaus had never seemed so carefree in his life. But Five had his eyes on someone else. She sat at one of the navy blue tables, quite a ways away from the playground, watching the siblings with a soft smile on her face. A notebook was in front of her while she twirled a pencil in her hand. 

Curiosity killed the cat. Five was too intrigued not to sit with her. So despite this probably being the only time he could experience a playground, he sat in front of her, obscuring her vision from his other six siblings. Her eyes met green ones; they looked evergreen in the dark of the night. His hair almost looked black, but she knew it had to be dark brown. 

“Good evening.” Her voice, it sounded like heaven to him, “Evening.”

It felt awkward, and the silence could’ve been cut with a knife, “My names Y/n.”

“Five.”

“Five? That’s unique.” Y/n complimented, and his cheeks flushed, “Thanks….” 

Her vision went back to the other kids, “You’d think they’ve never seen a playground before.”

“They haven’t.” Five stated, looking at his siblings, “Our father is strict, so we snook out to come here.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as rude-“

“You didn’t.” Five smiled, looking at her e/c eyes. 

Since then, Five would sneak out a lot more. His power was a fantastic tool. When he and his siblings began to sneak out more, Five always invited her. Klaus, Diego, and Vanya seemed taken with her. Y/n was always so kind and sweet. Her laugh radiated, and it made everyone around her smile. It was like she was Aphrodite, and he was Ares. 

After becoming friends with the academy kids, Y/n had a habit of sitting outside the academy. She usually sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her notebook on her lap, pencil in hand. Five couldn’t remember a time when her hand wasn’t covered in graphite or ink from drawing. He adored it, though, because it was so her. It made him stare at his black pens, aimlessly smiling, knowing that she probably had the same color ink on her hand. 

Becoming friends with Five meant knowing his ambition. Five Hargreeves was driven by his goals and wanted to do them regardless of the consequence. So Y/n knew about his dream to time travel despite his father's wishes. On a gloomy day, Y/n sat on the sidewalk. The only thing drawing her from her daydream was the slam of a gate. 

“Five!”

He didn’t turn, “Five!”

Y/n grabbed his arm, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m- I’m going to time travel.” Five stated with that daze in his eyes, “And you need to stay here.”

“No! I’m not letting you go alone!” Y/n exclaimed incredulously, “Y/n, please.” Five pleaded. 

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. Either we go together, or we stay here together.”

“Fine.” Five reluctantly agreed, holding out his hand for her. 

Hesitantly Y/n slid her fingers through his. They were intertwining their hands together. Five was so focused on time-traveling correctly that he didn’t notice the pink flush on his best friend's face. But he did it, once and twice—finally a third time. Smoke clouded the area, and fire could be seen for miles. 

Y/n dropped his hand and covered her mouth. Five circled in his spot in shock. He felt nauseous and queasy. He couldn’t believe that he let this happen. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. They were stuck. Fucking hell, they were stuck, and he couldn’t do anything. Y/n ran back to the academy, and Five followed her. The h/c haired girl stared at what used to be the Umbrella Academy. Now in ruins. Five dropped to his knees, tears collecting in his eyes. 

“It’s- it’s gone….” 

Y/n hugged him tightly, “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna be-“ 

Five didn’t get to finish his sentence. He pushed her away and threw up to the side. When he finished, Y/n took her jacket sleeve and wiped it around his mouth—gently combing his hair from his face. Y/n had never seen Five look so drained. Seeing her in front of him, taking care of him made him break. Five broke into sobs holding onto her like a lifeline. Y/n rubbed his back and held him just as tightly. 

“I’m here, Five. I’ll keep you safe.”

Being thirteen in an apocalypse seems like a death sentence, but when you grow up the way Five did, it’s more bearable. The first few months were awful. Searching for shelter, food, clothes. It was downright hell, but they made it through. On cold nights Five would hold her close to his chest, and on hot nights Y/n would always manage to get him cold water. 

Years passed, and their friendship turned into a relationship. They needed each other to survive, and they just needed each other. Five couldn’t be more grateful that she insisted on coming. He couldn’t imagine doing this alone. But now, he had his girlfriend leaning her head on his shoulder while watching the fire. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, leaving occasional kisses on her temple. 

“I couldn’t imagine this world without you.” Five confessed, “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Y/n challenged. 

He smirked, “Oh, really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, smartass.” Y/n snorted, “Too late, it’s already there, my love.” Five retorted. 

She kissed his cheek, “Love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” 

Five years later. They were twenty-five, and he wanted to make it official. It was a rather cold day wherever they were, and Five was holding her closer than ever. Y/n was shivering on the old mattress they had found. She was constantly snuggling closer to Five’s chest. They laid facing each other, and Y/n’s head was tucked under his chin. Five’s hand ran through her long hair - after being unable to cut it - soothing her nerves. 

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“I want you - Y/n - to marry me.” Five repeated, looking down at her.

Her teeth chattered, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not like there’s anyone else to choose from.”

Y/n glared playfully, and Five chuckled, “Asshole.”

“So, what do you say? Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“I say that if my fiancé doesn’t stop being an asshole, then I won't marry him.” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I love you too, pretty girl.” Five replied, smiling softly. 

He kissed her forehead and allowed her to muzzle closer into him. Gently he pulled the two plain rings he found. They were battered, of course, and the gold was dirty, but that didn’t matter. Five slipped the ring on her finger and his. Y/n placed a gentle kiss on his lips that he gladly returned. Sweet, soft, passionate, and full of love. A description of how she was. 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Five replied, “Now get some sleep.” 

Y/n was about to fall asleep when she heard Five mutter one last thing, “Y/n Hargreeves.”

29 years. 348 months. 1512 weeks. 10,585 days. Until a woman showed up in their shelter, offering them both a job. Five could remember pushing Y/n behind him defensively. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt in any interaction he had. The woman offered them a way home. Five turned to his wife, and she saw it. For the first time in forty-five years, she saw it. Hope. 

Y/n took Five’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. The softest smile crossed his features before agreeing with the woman’s offer where both of them became assassins—partners in crime. Nothing turned Five on more than seeing his wife fend for herself, and god, was she good at it. Y/n was so naive and innocent when she was ten. But now? At the age of fifty-six, she wasn’t that girl anymore. 

But when they reached the age of fifty-eight, Five finally found out the correct equation. They were at their last mission, make sure John F. Kennedy gets shot and everything goes to plan, but Five had different ideas. Taking Vanya’s book from his suitcase, he looked over the equations one last time. They were going back; Five would go home today. 

“Y/n.”

“Yes, love?”

Five sighed, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To go home.” 

Y/n’s smile was blissful; Five could’ve fainted on the spot, “Home?! Like- Like-“

“Home.” Five answered to his overjoyed wife. 

Y/n kissed him more passionately than ever. Five could feel her gratefulness in her kiss. His hands placed themselves on her waist, and hers were around his neck. God Five never wanted to forget this feeling. The feeling of his wife in his arms, kissing him as she would never get enough. When they pulled apart, Five opened the portal. Gripping her hand, they jumped through and landed on the leaf-filled ground in the icy rain. 

“Does anyone else see Little Number Five and Little Y/n, or is that just me?“ Klaus asked, not trusting his eyes; maybe it was an illusion from the drugs. 

Five and Y/n stood up. The first thing Y/n noticed was the ring on her finger was too big now. But Five looked down at the suit he had been wearing previously. The blazer now reached his knees instead of his waist, and Y/n’s shirt was hanging off one of her shoulders. Five and Y/n looked at each other. They were thirteen all over again. 

“Shit.” 

He grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her into the academy. Y/n had only been in the academy a handful of times before, and she usually was only allowed in Five’s room because she wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. His siblings followed aimlessly and took their spots at the table. 

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five inquired, grabbing different things around the kitchen. 

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

Y/n took place beside him as Five began making a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich. The same snack he used to love as a kid. Y/n could remember him trying to eat it back at their apartment the commission provided them but complained it was too sweet. It seems that being in his teenage body again made him crave the sweetness of the snack. 

“So, are we gonna talk about just what happened?” Luther questioned, but no one answered, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed, “It’s been a lot longer than that.”

The same big spatial jumped behind Luther as he began to take marshmallows from the cabinet, “I haven’t missed that.” Luther murmured. 

“Where’d you two go?” Diego asked. 

“The future.” Y/n answered politely, “It’s shit, by the way.” Five added spatial jumping beside her again and gently kissing her cheek. 

The siblings stared in shock at Five’s sudden act of affection; Five could feel their eyes on him, “What?”

“You just kissed her.” Allison stated, “And?”

Allison didn’t say anything, “Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife or something?” Five asked agitatedly. 

“Wife?!”

“Yes, wife.” Five sighed. 

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing.” Five began as he looked through the fridge, “Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” 

He came back with peanut butter in his hand at the front of the table, his wife beside him; he took in the appearance of his siblings, “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus smiled. 

“Wait, how did you two get back?” Vanya questioned. 

“In the end, I had to project our consciousnesses forward into a suspended quantum state version of ourselves that exists across every possible instance of time.” 

Diego couldn’t wrap his head around it, “That makes no sense.”

Five went to remark, but Y/n cut him off, “It doesn’t have to. All that matters is that we’re back.”

“How long were you two there?” Luther queried, “Forty-Five years. Give or take.”

Everyone looked at the two teens in disbelief, “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“Well, not exactly. Our consciences are 58, but it appears that our bodies are back to 13.” Y/n answered. 

“Wait, how does that even work?”

“It seems that Five might’ve gotten the equations wrong.” Y/n replied, and Five glared at her, “I’m not mad! I’m just happy we’re home. Appearance be damned.”

Five took notice of the newspaper in front of Y/n, “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Luther inquired, “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five retorted. 

“Heart failure?” Y/n asked, “Yeah/No.” Luther and Diego contradicted. 

Five clicked his tongue, “Nice to see nothings changed.”

The teenage boy began to walk away, “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison questioned.

“What else is there to say? It’s the circle of life.”

Vanya was the first to get up and hug Y/n, “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Vanny. Me too.”

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin�� like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

[secondhand-trash]

Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

-

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look. 

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane. 

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago. 

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you. 

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer. 

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

I have a request for a smut for Mitch Rapp and a fem!reader: basically enemies to lovers. They (think they) hate each other but in reality they just REALLY wanna shag each other (Stan kinda suspects it). The seggssual tension between them grew to the point where neither can take it anymore and they shag! That's it for the plot. Feel free to make it the filthiest piece of filth that has ever seen the filth of day. They can punch the other, kick the other, pull the others hair! I am a okay with either of them getting staped. Biting and scratching are on the table. They can use fire... I hope you can turn this to a smut for me. I really enjoy reading your smuts!

also:

pairing: mitch rapp x fem!reader

warnings: smut → seggsual tension that can be cut with a knife, oral (male receiving), degrading kink, rough penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).

word count: 1.4k

a/n: ahh omg i love the b9-9 reference!!

+ i've added this other request here too bc they had the same vibe to it - hope that's okay anon!

++ also [y/l/n] means your last name (but i think we've all read fanfics long enough to know that lmao)

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

requests for the sleepover are open🖤!

request guidelines here✨!

smut night masterlist

🌻masterlist🌻

taking in Mitch’s attire for the first time that night, it was apparent to you that Mitch was quite the attractive man.

But Mitch rapp was anything but attractive. He was repulsive. Rude. Had nearly gotten you killed so many times on a mission due to his inability to stick to plans, especially if they were made by you.

His tie hangs lose around the white collared button down shirt. His blazer thrown onto the couch that he planned to sleep on. Stan suggested that you share a room, never knowing nor predicting when the bad guys could attack. It was better, and safer, for the two of you to stay together.

Slipping the tie from around his neck, he throws it to wear his blazer lays, his eyes darting up to you. You, sitting cross-legged on the bed, quickly averted eye contact. You hear a slight huff of amusement coming from him, which only makes you roll your eyes. God, what you would do to share a room with literally anyone but him.

Your pj shirt hung low on your chest - almost a little bit too low. Mitch, for only a second, glances at your cleavage. His mind wanders into places he’s never really though that hard about before. He wanders what it would be like to suck those perfect tits of yours. If it wasn’t for the tv, he would’ve made an awkward coughing sound to release some of the built up tension in the room. You can feel the tension too. Building and building. The room getting hotter with each breath you took. You stand from the bed, going over to the small tea station to turn on the kettle.

“Want some tea?” You ask, not daring to look at him. For some unknown reason, you’re afraid to.

“sit.” He demands, his eyes glaring into you with such intensity. You return the glare, clenching your jaw as he nods to the bed.

“Why?”

“We need to talk about what happened today-"

“We have nothing to talk about. You did your usual shit and I did mine.”

“Don’t speak to me like that.”

“Like what? At least I’m not the one trying to get us all killed,” you spat, folding your arms over your chest. Mitch stalks over to you, his eyes dark with lust.

“Say that again. I dare you,” his voice is so low, you’re not sure if it scares you or turns you on.

“You always try to get us killed. That’s why your plans never work." you try so hard not to falter your voice, but he’s making it so difficult when he’s standing in front of you, with such a dominant demeanour, you thought you might as well submit to him now. He knocks your legs apart with his knee.

“Same could be said about you. Just remember that,” he growls in your ear. Without thinking, you grab him by the collar and thrash him down on the bed beside you. You stable him, pinning his wrists beside his head.

“Now, miss feisty. Might want to save your energy for tomorrow,” he chuckles, not even the least surprised that you’ve just done that.

“Don’t patronise me, rapp. You’re lucky I don’t just kill you now,” you purr in his ear, feeling his hips knock against yours. The feeling of his hardening cock poking at your thigh is something you’d never thought you’d ever get to experience with him.

Mitch flips you over, you know the grip on your wrist is going to bruise. "don't forget that i'm just as capable, darling."

roughly, he pushes off you, unzipping the pants of his suit. His jaw clenched, skin so hot and heated you can see the veins protruding through his hands.

"suck." he demands through gritted teeth. Your jaw drops as you just stare at him. he couldn't be serious? His eyebrows raise in anticipation - the same look he gives our targets when they try and plead their case to let them live.

You sigh, pushing yourself off the bed and onto the floor. Your hand pumps his cock up and down slowly, wanting to test the waters a little bit - or so you told yourself.

"[y/n], dont." he spits out, roughly gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Without needing to be told twice, you take him in your mouth, gagging as he thrusts into your mouth. he couldn't even for a second let you be in control. typical man.

You bob your head faster, moaning around him at the tight grip he still has in your hair.

"you like when im rough with you, huh? you dirty little slut." His jaw clenches as you clasp your hand around his wrist. "get up."

you do as you're told, and stand on your feet. Roughly and hasty, he practically rips your pjs off before pushing you on the bed.

"don't make me get the tie, [y/l/n]," he smirks as he hovers over you. You gulp and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a rough kiss. He may be on top, but you can still be in charge.

HIs hand snakes down between your bodies, teasing and toying at your clit. He pinches it gently, clenching his jaw to restrain a dark laugh as you breathe heavily against him, not wanting to make a sound. you were not about to give him that satisfaction.

his calloused fingertips circle heavenly around your clit. He wants you to at least let out one moan, and he was going to make you do it - whatever it takes.

He leans back, eyes burning into your soul as he watches you. You bite your tongue from within your mouth, restraining every ounce of your body to not contort in pleasure.

"i could make this easy for you, you know. you're choice," he arches an eyebrow in amusement, his finger slipping into your entrance with such ease.

"oh please," you scoff, rolling your eyes in annoyance - although you're sure it was from the pleasure rather than his haughtiness.

"fine," he practically rips his hand away, you bottom lip immediately receding into your teeth to control the whines that wanted to come out. He wasted no time in lining himself up at your entrance. You look at him with pleading eyes, to which he catches before he slides in.

His thrusts are slow at first, wanting to tease you as much as possible.

"oh come on. even i can do better than that," you challenge, pushing him off before straddling his hips. You sink down on him, his hands on your ass. He kneads them before slapping hard as you bottom out. An unexpected yelp slips from you, followed a dark chuckle comes from him.

You bounce roughly on him, leaning back on your hands as they rest on his thighs. His hands trail all over your body, wanting to explore very inch possible. He'd never admit it, to himself or especially you, but he's always wanted to do this. So of course, he's not wasting any opportunity. as far as you've both silently agreed, this is a one time thing.

Mitch slaps your breast, causing another yelp to escape from your swollen and desperate lips. You sink all the way down on his cock until he's completely inside you, before gyrating your hips. Both of you moan loudly, the pleasure feeling all too right to not let out a sound.

Roughly, mitch picks you up and places you on the bed next to him before he holds your legs up to his chest. He thrusts into you and fucks you hard - slow, but hard.

"fuck, oh my god," you give in to the pleasure, his cock feeling all too good not to.

"see, that wasn't so hard was it?" Mitch's malicious teasing causes you to roll your eyes but once again let out a moan. the wall takes it from the bedframe, thumping intensively with each hard thrust of his hips. Both of you couldn't control your moans, and it was only a matter of time before the next door guests came knocking on the door to complain.

The two of you are close - much closer than either of you liked to be. Mitch knew it too, from the way you clenched around his cock, you moans becoming louder and more high-pitched. He spreads your legs apart, which you gracelessly wrapped around his waist to draw him in closer. His hand, once again slips between you both and rubs your clit in circles.

"mitch..." you breathe, scratching your nails mercilessly down his back.

"let it go, babygirl," he grunts before leaning down towards you ear. "at least i'll have the satisfaction of making you cum."

"don't get too cocky now. I'm still not finished with you yet."

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Their Alright... For A Boomer

Masterlist

Summary: Being a girl with a larger chest always got you attention, maybe having your nipples pierced to try and fell more confident handt been the best idea, but how can you regret it when your latest client; the sexy Mr Cavill  was ogling them but could this end up being more then just that one time you were eyed by a hot celebrity?

Warnings: Suggestive, No Smut, Fluffy? Cute and funny, Swearing

A/N: this was a request from @fanficlover91​ i hope you like this hun, i tried to keep it hot but sweet and respectful? Which was a struggle but i hope i got the vibe you wanted. And as always i hope you all enjoy.

Taglist: In Reblogs.

You blushed as you looked down the lense at your model. He smirked sweeping his eyes over you non to subtly. You could feel the blues penetrating you with a hot stare. The was the distinctive fast clicks on you camera snapping a burst of shots managing to capture his smirking face and eyes sweeping over your form appreciatively.

You stood tall and smiled pulling away double checking the shoots. You bit your lip. Fucking hell this was both the best and worst job you had. Henry Cavill was the most enticing male you'd ever had the pleasure to photograph. He didn't even have a good side, every side was good! There wasn't an unflattering angle on the man!

"And that's a wrap? I think we have everything we need Mr Cavill" you said professionally making to move away from him and begin to swap sd cards and label them before packing away. Henry gawfed and rose quickly panicked almost.

"I- err no! Wait I was... Well hoping that I could have some more done?" he said chaseing you across the small studio you could hear his agent Leah scoff from the side lines. You frowned and looked to her nervously. The woman had been watching and tutting, scoffing and clicking her tongue through the whole session. It actually made you nervous, wasn't she pleased with the shoot? You were worried, being freelance this was your first time doing a celebrity shoot for a magazine but the usual photographer was in hospital having a stroke a few days prior and you were the only free photographer in the agency that was close enough to take the job. Sure you wasn't well known but still it was a little disheartening to have someone seemingly unimpressed with your work.

But it was when you eyed her you saw she wasn't giving you the evil eye. Her frown was directed at henry, a scolding look you'd give a misbehaving child. You frowned a little puzzled, but shook it off in favour of looking to Henry. Your actual client.

"More? I... I? Thought the piece only needed a few to choose from? They were very ah... How do I put it? Thorough? With the brief" you explained hoping Leah would step in and clarify just what was going on. Because you didn't have a clue.

"I yes but- I'd love to top up my portfolio? You know? I err yeah have a few changes going on and... I mean a few greys and such... Just want to update it a tad... I'll pay obviously- I'd pay anything for more time please?" he pleaded watching you closely eyes wide and bright full of hope.

"I... Err" you shifted swapping your camera from one hand to the other and craned your head around the man trying to spy his agent. But you had no hope of peeking around this gargantuan man. Just like with the camera he demanded your full attention.

"And for Instagram and stuff! There's only so much I can do in a selfie... I'd even recommend you- advertise your work!" he quickly added sounding desperate now. It would help you out if you did have a few shots of him for in your own catalogue. It shouldn't matter but having a celeb under your belt was actually a good thing. It meant you'd acted professionally and been good to work with.

"I suppose so, I do have a few extra sd's here... Tell you what I'll do another shoot for you as long as I can pick a few to put in my portfolio? Then we both update our files?" you nodded to him speaking slowly. He grinned and relaxed nodding quickly pleased with himself for wrangling more shots. You'd never know he was just glad to has more time with you.

"Oh yes absolutly! That's fine here should we get started now or?" he asked biting his lip trying not to stare at you for too long. But it was hard you were fucking stunning!

"Oh yeah sure iv got time, let me just sort these out and set up, need to switch, you've tired my poor camera" you said with a grin trying to ignore the man as he beamed at you looking excited nodding enthusiastically. You backed up and spun around trying not to blush as you felt henry gazing openly at you.

"Right well if the magazine ones are done I will be off then" Leah called packing up her bag with a small chuckle to herself. You froze and spun quickly seeing her seemingly abandoning you with Henry.

"Wha- oh you don't have to you can stay-" you tried to reason unsure why, I mean who wouldn't want to be alone with this huge glorious man? Maybe you just didn't trust yourself with him? He had been 'making love' to the camera all afternoon. Smouldering bedroom eyes that was making it hard to focus. You had been getting hot under the collar all day as you kidded yourself he was eyeing you, not the camera or would be readers.

It didn't help that you had caught him oogling your breasts earlier. But you wasn't mad, it was your own fault. It was the Hight of summer and you had on a string vest with a thin bra, that you could clearly see your nipple bars through. You didn't feel uncomfortable or anything, you didn't blame Henry for looking. You cant exactly ignore your tits.. The were pretty large for your frame. You were curvy but they were as one ex put it 'exceptional'. And besides he had looked not touched and he hadn't been a creep about it. In fact he had done a double take and then blushed when he realised he had been caught looking. But as you said you get that with big boobs, you'd had it your entire life, it was actually one of the reasons you'd got them pierced. It helped with your confidence and you convince yourself that they were looking at the bars. Not you per say.  

"Okay aunt Leah I will see you in a few days." henry interrupted you quickly smiling practically ushering the woman out the door. He moved fast ever picking the womans phone and juice bottle to help her leave quicker.

"Yes, behave Henry I'll see you soon" she said with a giggle before calling a thank you and goodbye over her shoulder at you. You swallowed nervously and gave a quick bye as the door clicked behind her and you were left alone with Henry. The man groaned stretching as he spun around a huge grin on his face, making your knees tremble a little. Fuck.

Henry came over and watched you closely as you scribbled the name and date along with the publication name on the sd case label. You tried not to notice as he hovered biting his lip then took off the blazer and threw it on the table beside you drawing your attention as he did grunting a little. The v neck letting the smallest amount of soft looking chest fuzz that had been teasing you all day. He grinned slyly as he caught you eyeing him and crossed his arms over his chest flexing for your benefit. You gasped and quickly looked back to the camera in your hands inserting a new scarf into the new fully charges camera.

"Soo how do you like this kind of work?" henry said casually trying not to seem like a creeper but god damnit he couldn't stop eyeing you. If he had known how sexy you'd be he would have demanded to be doing a bloody swim wear shoot!

"You mean people?" you stuttered trying not to look him in the eye. Not that it helped because the rest of him was just as fucking sexy! You quivered all over desperately trying to remember how to breath, yet didn't want to draw in too deep a breath and make your tits bounce for him and look like a slut. There was a very fine line for a big busted girl, to much wobble will make you look like your trying to get attention.

"I mean celebrities, magazines we were told you mainly do private shoots for events and model portfolios" he offered leaning forward as he leant back on the desk next to you hooking one ankle behind the other. The way he stood placed his crotch in your line of sight as you looked down and worked on setting up the camera. You flushed. Oh god he looked er... Bigger then you'd thought earlier, not that you were looking but... Well you couldn't help notice the package! The man was a fucking serial man spreader! And that thing was huge! With the muscles he was packing he could probably bench press you with his crotch!

"Oh well its different... And you sir popped my celebrity cherry" you froze on the spot as you said that, it had meant to be an ice breaker, a joke but instead had sounded fucking creepy!. You snapped up to him making to apologize as your face flamed mortified but he had thrown his head back laughing. The deep rumble sent chilled down your spine.

"Well I'm honoured to have popped your cherry~" he teased placing a hand over his heart with a cheeky grin making you blush and nod then turned to him with the new camera all set up.

"Soo where do we start?" you said moving on quickly looking up at him trying to forget the whole cherry comment.

"Where ever you want me, i will let you take the reigns command me as you will" he chuckled standing tall once more and looked about the room casually to the various small set ups, different furniture, seats sofas and mini tables dotting the space.

"I... Okay then you said Instagram? How about we start with some facials-FACE SHOTS! Face. Shots. Not facials fuck. Shit" you quickly tried repairing the damage whist cursing yourself wanting nothing more then to be swallowed up by the floor.

"No, no love facials sounded perfect~" he said winking before gliding past you making you stutter and almost choke on your breath. Oh good lord this was a bad idea. You followed as he sat down on a sturdy sofa and looked head on at you and bit his lip once again watching you with a sultry look.

And that was the beginning. You followed him about taking various snaps whislt having small talk. He seemed to be very flirtatious as he spoke, dropping lines and compliments as he made eyes at you. You flushed each time clamming up at his suggestive comments. And rightly or wrongly you flirted back trying to seem cool and suave. But inside you were fangirling unable to belive you were here with this incredibly gorgeous man teasing one another. On a few occasions he even growled as you scampered about him, crouching and taking shots from blow getting some delicious angles that dampened your knickers. Then in between all this he managed to get little tied bits. You'd told him you were on agency freelance and were trying to get into the social media platform as it seemed easier in this day and age rather then to be in fashion photography. You wanted to be commercial not private but no one would really take a chance anymore.

Then you suggested a few shots on the sofa laying back trying to think of something different for your portfolio, maybe a body length shot. He was quick to agree and dived onto the sofa saying he had an idea you swallowed nodding not fully trusting the look in his eyes. But that was forgotten as he relaxed stretching out over the sofa legs crossed and resting on the arm of his hands behind his head and a devilish smirk looking down the lenght of his body. You knelt at his feet trying to get a flattering image of him looking down but cursed as the camera wasn't playing ball. The lense was focusing, this was why you used the other one first, the camera had a few issues and was temperamental.

"What's wrong?" he asked frowning a little at you as you growled pulling the camera away fro your face and began trying to manually focus the lense.

"Oh its.. It wont focus.. It does this sometime, really need to throw it out but.. She was my first I'm sentimental" you said feeling silly as you battled with the camera.

"We all are with our firsts... How about you come closer instead, I really want to see this shot, never done one at this angle.. Out of all my shoots your the first to suggest this~" you froze and looked to him but he just smiled impishly at you. Slowly you rounded the sofa and leant over him positioning the camera at his stomach as he looked right into the lense giving you a definite bedroom eyes, half lidded and burning. Both dreamy and amazingly sexy. It was as if he could see you beyond the lense, as if it wasn't even there!

"You can come closer love, I wont bite, not if you don't want me to~" his voice was low and teasing, luring you in like a siren. You trembled and moved along him but he tutted and moved a hand to your hip and pressed, coaxing you onto the sofa and sat you on him making you straddle him. You gasped squeazing your camera tighter as he moved you easily, warm palms holding you both delicatly and firmly. You could see in his eyes he was weary unsure if he had gone to far but you squeezed him between your thighs and relaxed making him grin up at you getting the message you didn't mind at all. You aimed the lense at him once more and got the shots you wanted.

"Perfect! Mr Cavill" you said actually a little sad that this session was over. It had been nice playing this little cat and mouse game with him. But all good things come to an end.

"Ah now i have a policy love, when a womans on top they can call me henry, among other things~" he said smoothly laughing as you chuckled nervously fiddling with the camera in your hands and shifted over him a little.

"I will try to remember that for next time boomer~" you teased managing to overcome your nerves as you pulled away the camera with a giggle winking at him as he stuttered. For a second you thought you'd gone too far but a quirk to his lips made you relax once more.

"That hurt, that was hurtful" he teased pouting not releasing you from his lap, instead holding you tighter, fingers digging into your sides making you gasp and bit your lip as he pulled you to his crotch and ground into you teasingly.

"I'm so sorry~" you uttered breathless trying to keep yourself together. But this man was something else, like a drug- the devil all fanged smiles and smooth words. God you were fucked, you knew this man could do anything to you and youd thank him for it~

"I doubt that" he cooed and slid his hand higher growing more and more confident. The last few hours of casual flirting had built up his appitite. There was no misconceptions, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"Oh yeah?" you said coyly tipping your head to him playing along willing for this to happen, whether it be a one of fuck or something longer. You didnt have any complaints~ this was your body and youd enjoy it with who ever you wanted to!

"Yeah prove it!" he hissed and moved quickly sitting up and swinging around planting his feet on the floor. You yelped as he moved surprizingly fast and managed to keep you in his lap now face to face with you eyes roaming your face settling on your lips.

"And how should i do that" you teased tilting your head skimming your lips with his as you spoke. He groaned and held you tighter making you whine breathlessly willing this to happen. You wanted him and you wont deny yourself the chance.

"Make and old mans day" he said plainly and leant back resting on the back of the sofa, you watched him closely and brought your hands to his shoulders prodding at the neck of the t shirt and drew your fingers down slowly feeling him shiver at the light skimming fingertips.

"Oh really Boomer? And how would i make and old mans day?" you teased once more making him grunt but he quickly caught himself as your fingers smoothed over the teasing curls that peeked over his top. You scratched over them lightly with your nails making him draw a needy breath and chuckled at him. He was sexy and cute~

"By accepting a job offer?" he said before smileing smugly as you paused and frowned. Had you missed something? Was he after a freebee?

"Job offer? Really another shoot?" you snorted suddenly not feeling sexy, more like he was trying to butter you up for some fuck for parts shoots or something. He sighed and began speaking before you could get yourself all twisted. But then again you could have taken his offer wrong.

"Manage my social media. I have many companies and brands reach out to me for endorsements. They want me caught wearing their brands. But I'm to busy most of the time I cant make it to the locations they want. It actually doesn't seem worth it most of the time, with cost of flights and time lost travelling to and from studios itd be easier if I had my own personal photographer that travelled with me its be easy, slip on the clothes and what not take a few snaps and then you touch them up and post them on my social media." he explained watching as it sunk in that he wasnt trying to pull a fast one. Well he was but not trying to fuck you over... Just fuck you... And keep you because you were fantastic and he wants nothing more then to have you around hime as much as possible. In the single dat he had spent working with you, you had enchanted him, not only were you sexy but you were good at your job and easy to work with but also funny and cute and he needed to get to know you.

"Of course its a very big venture and we'd have to have a few dinner and lunch dates to work out all the nitty gritty" he added after a few beats of silence trying to make it clear he was interested... Very interested~ it worked as you fluched and a playfull look donned your face your fingers began stoking his chest hair once more. He relaxed shuddering under the nails as they teased his curls.

"Is this a big ploy to get a date Boomer?" you purred his new nick name making him groan when you squeezed him between your thick thighs once more grinding on him and the considerable bulge below you that twitched.

"No... Maybe is it working?" he said quickly hissing at you shifted in his lap once more, his hands snapping to your hips trying to still you before he came undone in his boxers. You were a very dangerous woman and something told him you knew.

"Well it sounds like an offer I'd be very, very interested in taking further~" you clarified giggling when he swallowed dryly and eyed you surprized that his plan had seemed  to work.

"Good to hear~ so got anything planned after this?" he asked feeling a wave of confidence at the prospect of snagging a date with you. He hadn't meant to sound so eager but... He was eager and that was that.

"Yes" you said with a straight face and got up off of him spinning around heading to the table with your camera bags. You gave him a glance and giggled seeing him still sitting there gobsmacked legs wide open and his crotch that was now definitely bigger then it had been earlier.

"O-oh" he stuttered seemingly unsure how to proceed. You giggled as he fumbled over his words. Then decided to grant him some mercy and began speaking whilst popping out the sd card from the camera labeling it like the previous one.

"You see I had a very cheeky client today who asked for a shoot last mineut. But I wasn't to bothered he was very very sexy even if he was a boomer, but get this out of nowhere gave me a job offer? And we're having dinner- he promised pizza~" you giggled glancing at Henry as he slumped in the seat realising halfway through that you were talking about him. He smoothed his hands over his face and jumped up coming over to you shaking his head.

"You know I'm not actually a boomer?" he quipped folding his arms. You rolled your eyes at him as you packed your stuff away making sure to recheck everything.

"Have you seen your selfies? Your a boomer, boomer" you teased making him scoff but laugh at the name that has now stuck.

"Wait you've seen my selfies? What do you think?" he asked wanting feedback on the silly shots he took. You paused halfway through zipping up your bag and turned facing him fully giving him a thoughtful look then shrugged

"Their alright... For a boomer" you giggled when he preened for a second then his face dropped into a pout when you finished the comment.

"I repeat...That was hurtful" he said covering his heart with a kicked puppy look making you laugh and hoist your bags over your shoulder and make for the door with him hot on your heels.

"Its fine boomer a second date will make up for it I'm sure~" you sniggered at him playfully looking back at him as he followed you out of the door.

"A date for each time you call me boomer? Deal" he quipped walking along side you offering you his arm like a true gentleman unlike the teasing horny little shit he had been all day. Not that you minded either. Gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets and all that jazz.

"God we may aswell marry now then boomer" he laughed nodding in agreement the banter from the day still in play as you both left the building.

"Seems so, I mean were at ten that's what the kids consider boyfriend girlfreind territory" he anounced with a sigh playing on the 'boomer' joke making you giggle and roll your eyes as he mentioned the tally. Then you frowned and quickly counted your 'boomers' and opened your mouth you correct him, arguing that ten was incorrect.

"I think its nine boomer- ah see what you did their sneaky boomer!" you cried pushing him playfully at his little trick. He roared with laughter and quickly tangled his fingers with yours dragging you back alongside him guiding you down the street towards a place he knew served pizza, he didn't remember but apparantly he promised pizza...

[hintofelation99]

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

---------------------------------------------------

Based on this headcanon.

[novamirmirsblog]

Mission gone right

Hi guysss. This is 18+ ty :3

Word count: 1596

Genre: Smut, kinda dark? R is bad basically

Request: no

Warnings: Wanda sex magic, swearing, alcohol (think that's it)

A/N: we got votes for both angst and smut so I kinda combined both? I feel like this isn't angsty enough so imma write something super angsty next. Then I'll go back and do some more spidey duo xxx

"What to do, what to do, what to do..." You paced back and forth around your living room. "Ugh!" throwing your hands up in the air, you flopped down on the sofa, leaving your legs dangling over the arm. Switching on the TV, you saw that there was a new display at an art gallery. You looked around your walls and saw nothing as pretty as the painting on the TV.

"I guess one more couldn't hurt..."

The TV then changed to show that the Avengers were making a special appearance considering Tony Stark owned the gallery and it was it's opening night.

With newfound determination, you got dressed in a red dress with a neckline that dropped all the way to just above your navel and a slit that went all the way up to the middle of your left thigh. The dress gave you the freedom to move but still looked like it was just something pretty to wear. You grabbed your clutch (because god forbid a woman has pockets) and headed out.

~~~~~

Soft music played as people with more money than sense wandered around the gallery. Women wore pearls loosely and men had watches just begging to be taken. You had to focus. You were there for one reason and one reason only. The oil painting apparently cost millions. You didn't really care about that - it was a nice touch, sure - but not the reason you wanted it. You told yourself it was because it was a pretty picture but maybe it was more to do with the fact a pretty mindreader was going to be there tonight.

So far, you had done well to avoid the guards and cameras. You had stolen from this place a few times before and you knew that they rarely changed their security because you had cameras on them. You had seen a few of 'Earth's mightiest heroes' and had tried to ignore the disappointment you felt when it wasn't Wanda.

It's not like the two of you had history, but you were at HYDRA when the twins were too. You were a failed experiment. Your powers were useful, but not useful enough. They also took a little time to form. Time that Strucker didn't want to waste. You, Wanda and Pietro spent about a year together before they went to the 'good side' and you delved deeper into what your powers could do for you. You'd think that HYDRA would love the fact you could convince people of anything and erase all traces that you had ever been somewhere, but apparently they weren't looking for spies, they had enough of those.

You strolled around until you made it to the bathroom, waiting there for the rest of the evening. You had everything planned, walk up to the picture, take it from it's frame and leave out the front door. Everything was going according to plan until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey! What are you doing there!" You opened your mouth to speak but you were grabbed and dragged round the corner and into a storage room.

It was Wanda.

"What the hell are you doing here!" Wanda whisper shouted as guards jogged past our hiding place.

"Same as you apparently." You realised Wanda hadn't noticed how close the two of you were, cupoards were very small...

"You just fucked up my night out."

"Sorry darling, at least my night is going splendidly." You winked and leaned in closer, watching as the anger transformed to lust on her face.

You were taller than Wanda by maybe half a head so she had to look up at you as she tried to formulate a reason to get out of there. Technically, she didn't even have to be there. She could walk out right now and the guards wouldn't even bat an eye and yet something was making her stay.

You moved slightly and Wanda groaned ever so faintly. It was so quiet that you would have missed it if you hadn't been so close to her. You then realised that your leg was conveniently placed between Wanda's, and what can you say? The storage cupboard was small. It wasn't your fault.

Okay, it was maybe a little bit your fault.

"Oh darling, has no one been taking care of you?" You mocked, leaning in and whispering over the shell of her ear "Want me to take care of that?"

Wanda froze even more. Her mind was racing so fast that there was no possible way for her to read yours even though she was desperate to do so. She hadn't seen you in forever but when she glanced over when Tony was telling her a particularly boring story, she couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful you were. Wanda had hoped that you were just there to admire the art work but she knew, deep down, that that would be too good to be true.

"Cat got your tongue?" You were unaware of the turmoil you caused for Wanda. Too focused on your own fun and the way her suit hugged her in all the right places. You wanted nothing more than to fuck her there and then. You didn't want a meaningful relationship with Wanda, just something physical. The two of you were occasional fuck buddies when you were both at HYDRA - the relationship turning slightly toxic very quickly.

You both liked to see how quickly one could get the other jealous. Whether that meant flirting with other people and making sure the other one saw, or just outright sleeping with whoever was nearest. While it seemed that Wanda had grown out of that toxicity, finding love with a glorified Alexa, you never had.

"Why save me darling? I can handle myself."

"You were two seconds from being caught" It was a little disheartening to hear her accent slipping, the last little piece that reminded you of the Wanda she used to be.

"No. No I wasn't." you lifted her chin up and spoke into her neck "I don't need you to save me."

Wanda let out another groan, much louder this time as her hips bucked on your thigh.

"Shhh" You chuckled lowly "We don't want anyone to hear you, right?"

You grabbed her hips and kissed her. It was rough and fast. Wanda whimpered and began grinding harder, trying to get more friction. One hand traced lightly on Wanda's thigh and the other tugged at her waistband. Wanda got rid of them instantly with her magic and you slipped your hand into her panties.

"Shit sweetheart, your toaster not giving you the satisfaction you need?"

"I don't want to think about him" Wanda let out with a slight growl, her accent getting heavier again, like how it was when you knew her.

"Sweetheart when I'm done with you, you wont think of anything else for months."

"God you're a cocky bitch. You're all talk and no action."

"No?" You pushed two fingers into her. You weren't feeling nice enough to start off slow and she was wet enough for it anyway.

Wanda's back arched as she let out a moan and you kissed her chest, her blazer falling open to reveal an extremely unbuttoned shirt. She tried to push your hand further, desperately chasing her release but you pulled away, taking your hand and licking your fingers, watching as Wanda gulped.

"Please..."

"But darling, I think the guards are gone." You smirked as the witch basically threw a temper tantrum.

"So? I haven't felt this good in so long" Wanda shoved her own hand back to where yours was. It was strangely extremely hot to see her try and get back to her high. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at you. You could see the red wisps surrounding you before you nearly doubled over, looking up at Wanda who wore an evil smile.

"Now you know how I feel. Are you going to get back to it?" Wanda had never done this before. When you had known her, she had little to no control over her powers, only being able to control things with her mind and read others thoughts. She had been practicing.

"Fuck you."

"Well yes, that's what I'm trying to get you to do."

You dropped to your knees and took the rest of her underwear off, slowly licking her as she swung a leg over your shoulder. "Shit y/n, just like that."

You worked your fingers in and out of her, feeling everything you were doing to her on yourself thanks to her magic. You got slightly sloppy as you both neared your climaxes. You suck and bit along her thigh and on her clit until you felt her clench around your fingers. You both saw stars as her magic continued to fuck you, drawing out your orgasms until you were both sweaty messes.

~~~~~

You never did get the painting that night. You didn't really get anything you wanted that night. You sat on the top of your building, one leg swinging and a bottle of something strong in your hand, just watching the city buzz at night. As you sat there watching the tiny people come home from their jobs to their loving families, you wondered if you could have had something like that with Wanda. Then you laughed as you remembered that she was probably wrapped up in the arms of Siri, taking another swig from the bottle, you got up and prepared for your next job.

[miekasa]

Headcannons for the kinda style/fashion sense Levi and Eren would have in Modern AU??

EREN

I am once again going to push my Eren lowkey hypebeast agenda because you asked. 

Honestly his general clothing style isn’t anything too extraordinary. He wears jeans most days, sometimes sweatpants and track pants. Never slacks or chinos unless he’s specifically dressing up to go somewhere. 

I think he’d have a pretty damn big collection of sweaters and hoodies honestly. Like... an extensive collection. He shouldn’t need to buy anymore, but he does. I think he’d also wear a lot of crewnecks. 

They’re not always plain though! I think he’d be a box logo kind of guy, maybe something with a design/reference to a show he likes, and probably a few that are plain on the front, but have lettering or a drawing on the back. 

Maybe a little bit of logomania on a few items, but it’s his not his whole outfit, and really only ever once in a blue moon. Expensive things he got on sale or from a reseller for cheap, that he wears because he has, you know. 

You know those half/faux collar things that make it look like you’re wearing a button down under your crewneck, without actually having to wear one? Yeah, whenever Eren discovers that, he’s all about it and suddenly feels all put together and like a real adult LOLOL

He also has a pretty big sneaker collection, and he is a little obsessed with collecting them. I think he’d wear a lot of high-tops, and definitely have one or two pairs of shoes that need to be thrown are but are just so damn comfortable he can’t let them go. 

I could see him having a lot of oversized t-shirts. He’s definitely the kind of guy that has 74485245 white t-shirts in his closet (“They go with everything!”)

He thinks fanny packs are stupid before he actually buys one, and then he acts like he invented them. “Babe, I don’t even have to put my phone in my pocket, look it fits in here! With my keys! I even have the lip balm you gave me--is this why you always have a bag??” 

I think he’d look good with a few rings... I think you’d have to buy them for him first... convince him... build your perfect choker you know 😌

He mostly just wants to be comfortable, but if you wanted him to try out a specific style, he’d do it for you. He can’t promise to like it, but who knows it might grow on him over time. 

He might have a lot of hats (beanies, bucket hats); not that he wears them super often, but he keeps buying them. For safe keeping, he claims. (It’s because he’s an irresponsible spender but we don’t have to unpack all of that). 

LEVI

I feel like business casual is a good way to describe his every day style. 

Not necessarily wearing a suit and/or blazer every day, but he definitely looks smart, tidy, and put together. Slacks and/or chinos, maybe a button down if he feels like ironing the day before, or maybe just a nice sweater or turtleneck. 

He owns jeans, too, like any normal person, but they’re all pretty plain, and never, ever ripped. I also think he would prefer dark washed jeans over light washed or acid washed. And they’re not really skinny jeans either; they’re tapered, but not skin tight. They’re comfortable. 

He would like blazers, though. They might not be an every day occurrence, but he definitely has more than a few. He’s pretty good at styling them, too. I would pay to see him style the oversized blazer trend, but I don’t really think it’s something he would lean towards himself... unfortunately... but he would look so cute omg. 

Chelsea boots oh my god. But also sneakers! I think he’d have at least one good pair of running shoes, and maybe one or two pairs he wears casually. Like air maxes. I think he’d like those. 

He has his casual days, though. When he’s not working or doing whatever he does regularly, he has sweatpants. I actually think he’s a sweatpants and big t-shirt around the house kind of guy. 

On that note, I think he’d run errands in a matching sweatsuit. Not a matching tracksuit -- that would be resident wanna be cool golf dad, Erwin Smith -- but matching sweatpants and crewneck sets. Wears it with his fancy sneakers. Sometimes a pea coat if he’s trying to be extra stylish. 

I don’t see him as a hat kind of guy. If it’s cold, he would either suck it up, or just wear a jacket with a hood. You buy him one of those hats with the pompom on top during the winter and he claims he looks like a child, but you always catch him wearing it when it’s snowing anyway. 

He would accessorize pretty well, but also in subtle ways. Like coordinating his scarf and belt to his outfit, making sure his cufflinks go with his clothes, a proper tie. I don’t know that he’d have a lot of jewelry, but maybe a few daintier necklaces or chains. Maybe one or two rings.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Together In Paris

Auror!Draco X Auror!Reader

Summary: Cliche mini-series: There was only one bed/fake dating

A/n: I have no idea where this came from but it’s beautiful and so soft and cute and ugh. I love you guys so much so let me know what you think as always!! Also this is 8k words because I have no self control at all.

“There has to be some mistake,” I gasped. “Harry, you can’t be serious!”

“I need this case in the hands of my two best Aurors, and that’s you and Malfoy,” Harry leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

Draco was very quiet and very still beside me. Where my anger was loud and biting, I could tell that his was cold and unforgiving.

“Okay, and I’m flattered, but Harry,” I dismayed. “This is a weekend in Paris for a couples retreat. What the bloody hell do you expect us to do there?”

“Act like a couple,” Harry said, as if it were obvious. And I wished that it wasn’t. “And bring in this potions smuggler,”

I huffed and stormed off, heading to my desk to gather what I needed for this god forsaken case. Stupid Harry. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid shiny shoes that were in my line of vision.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” I looked up, abandoning my spare anti-hex potions in their bottom drawer. “What do you want?”

“You act like I’m happy about this,” He snapped coldly. “I’d rather spend a weekend in Paris doing something enjoyable with just about anyone else.”

Fury burned in my heart as his words pierced it. I couldn’t deny that they stung a bit. Truthfully, Draco wasn’t the worst person to get stuck on a case with. Instead I was angry because Harry just assumed that I’d be okay with pretending to date someone, even for a case.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” I snarled. “What do you want Malfoy?” I sighed, continuing to pack my bag.

“What time would you like me to pick you up tonight?” His tone was so polite that it had me reeling, abandoning my task of packing.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The case, it starts tomorrow evening. I assume that you’d like to get there early and see what we’re dealing with? You have with cases before,” He gave in tidbit of knowledge so offhandedly that I almost missed how Draco had somehow managed to pick up on my habits.

“I... uh. Yeah,” I zipped my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Is seven alright with you? I have a few things that I need to get in order before we head out.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven then,”

Deciding that the interaction with Draco was one of the weirder moments of my life, I prepared myself for a weekend filled with... coupling—ugh. I spent about an hour ranting to my empty flat as I packed a suitcase and garment bag, my more expensive dresses safely inside. I paused in the mirror and sighed wistfully. Coupled with Draco Malfoy. Yeah right. We weren’t even in the same spheres of influence. Our spheres didn’t even touch remotely.

Promptly at seven, my doorbell rang, and I could tell that Draco was eyeing my jeans and sweater skeptically. I seemed like a teenager standing next to his immaculate, no doubt tailored- to-him suit. Lost. Lost was a good word that fit. I seemed lost when I stood beside Draco.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I sighed, letting him in so that we could apparate together.

I should have looked over the case notes a bit more. I would have dressed better if I had known Draco and I would be staying at the Ritz. I understood Draco’s look of contempt for my wardrobe earlier.

“Are you ready?” He asked again, softly.

“Yeah, sure.” I smiled settling into a fake persona that was desperately in love with Draco Malfoy. With the smile he returned, I could tell that Draco had done the same as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I tried not to gawk at the lavish lobby as Draco checked us in and I tried to also ignore the disapproving looks I got from the staff about my wardrobe. I stuck closer to Draco after one to many nasty stares.

French fell elegantly from his lips as he spoke to the receptionist. It escaped my mind that he could speak the language—it was probably one of the leading reasons that he was placed on this case: he could thrive without a translation spell. The small French woman made a remark that seemed to upset Draco, his words becoming harsh, his lip curling in anger. The woman started to stammer her words in what I assumed was apologies as she smiled nervously at me before pressing a key into Draco’s hands. A bellhop followed behind us with our luggage.

“What was that all about?” I asked Draco when we were alone in a imperial suite—either the Ministry had given Harry way too much power over funds or this had Malfoy written all over it.

“What was what?” Draco asked, drawing the curtains.

“The receptionist,” I gave, running my fingers over a marble statue of the Venus De Milo.

“Yes? What about her?” He raised an eyebrow at me, shrugging off his blazer and undoing his cufflinks.

“You snapped at her,”

“Ah,” Draco’s lips drew into a thin smile. “Well, I could hardly stand for her to be insulting the love of my life, now could I?” Sarcasm dripped in his tone as his smile became wicked.

“Oh, you stuffy people and your stuffy rules!” I dismayed. “Jeans are comfortable! So are sweaters!” I folded my arms childishly.

“I’m not arguing there, but Y/n, come on, at the Ritz?” Draco piqued an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know it would be here! Bloody hell, I would have dressed better if I knew!” It’s what I had been wanting to scream for the past hour that it felt nice to let the words finally leave my lips.

A chuckle fell from his lips as he sat at in a plush armchair, gesturing for me to join him. I sighed and sat in the adjacent chair, pulling my legs up onto the seat with me. If Draco disapproved, he didn’t voice his opinion.

“Now, before we begin,” His voice dropped into a formal tone, and I knew he was speaking about the case. “I need to know boundaries for you. Yes, we have to be a couple, but I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable or throw you off guard. I need you sharp and focused for us to do this case successfully,”

“That was... almost sweet,” I chuckled darkly.

My tongue darted between my lips as memories that I tried hard to keep locked down came resurfacing. It was another reason for my fury about the case. Harry knew that I had just gotten out of a toxic long-term relationship and I doubted he thought twice about my approval on the matter of this case. My eyes dropped to my lap; my eyebrows drawn together.

“Y/n,” He called softly, drawing my attention from my spiraling thoughts.

“Just...” I started. “I’m fine. Hug me, kiss me, hold me close, call me whatever, I don’t care,” The words were sharper than I meant them to be as I stormed out of the room and slammed whatever door was between us.

Leaning against the same door, fighting tears and the urge to apparate back home, my eyes settled on one large, silk draped, pillow lined, king sized bed.

“No,” I gasped. “No, no, no!” I screamed. “There is no way in hell!” 

“Y/n?” A soft knock was on the door behind me.

I yanked it open and met an anxious looking Draco.

“What the hell!?” I gestured wildly to the bed.

“Are you alright?” Draco neared me cautiously. “Are you sure you’re up for this case?” 

“Oh, don’t patronize me!” I snapped. “I’m just fine!”

“Then what in the world are you on about?” He folded his arms defiantly.

“The bed,” I hissed.

“Yes, what about it?” Oh, I wanted to punch him. 

“There’s only one.”

“Oh, she can count, the day is saved,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, there’s one bed, do you think a couple would be sleeping in separate beds? We have a cover to keep,”

My face scrunched up in anger as I sighed and scrubbed my face, my resolve falling flat.

“Right, the case.” I nodded, putting on a false calm smile. “Any boundaries of yours I need to know about?”

Draco eyed me warily, and whatever he wanted to say died on his tongue as he regained composure.

“Just be polite. Formal. We’re... how did you put it? Stuffy people, not teenagers,” There was a small smile on his lips.

“Right,” I nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,”

“It’s my fault, I should have warned you.” His tone was soft. “And I also should have mentioned that I fully planned on sleeping on the floor, or perhaps a couch. I’d never impose on your privacy like that.”

I thawed a little more and my smile became a bit more real. “Thank you, Draco,”

“I’ll... leave you alone. If you’d like to change, we can explore a bit, though it’s all about the same here,”

“You say that like you come to Paris for lunch,” I drawled. “Not all of us have been out of the country, Malfoy,”

“You’ve—” He backtracked. “You’ve never been to Paris?” 

“No?”

“Get changed,” He ordered. “Never been to Paris,” He scoffed, closing the door behind him.

 __________________________

........................

“Harry,” Draco hissed, his eyes darting away from your retreating form.

“Can it, Malfoy,” Harry pushed off his desk and rounded it. “I don’t want to hear how you don’t want the case either,”

“Forget about me.” Draco nearly roared. “Don’t you understand how bad this is going to be for Y/n? How much this is going to hurt her?”

Harry looked dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you are so blind!” Draco distressed. “She just got out of a very unhealthy relationship not a month ago and you want her to pretend to be in love with someone else? Are you bloody mad?”

“It’s just one weekend,” Harry insisted.

“Oh, I pity the girl you take home,” Draco sneered. “I’ll do the case. For her sake.” 

...................

Of course, Draco knew about your breakup. He worked with you for Merlin’s sake. He noticed when you were too quiet or skipped out on meals. Not that he ever meant to, but he liked his routine, and every other person in their rightful place as well. He noticed when a pattern was broken.

You were still a brilliant Auror despite it all. You smiled more. You actual made conversation with him now. He was happy for you. You seemed... free. Reanimated. He feared that this case would be the mental breakdown that everyone around you seemed to be waiting for. And Draco didn’t know if he was ready for that. He didn’t know if you were ready for that.

So, he’d be civil. He’d be a jerk if it meant sparing your feelings. He’d make this as easy as he could for you. He knew what it was like to need to break but terrified of the act itself. To hold his head high despite wanting to lash out at everyone and everything. And he had grown from it. Learned how to break in a healthy way. And how to pick himself back up.

It was about fifteen minutes before the bedroom door opened and you stepped out. Draco’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Switching your jeans and sweater for an A-line black skirt that draped down your frame, paired with a white button up blouse, sheer thigh highs and a pair of heels in one hand and a Prada bag in the other.

“Is this okay?” You asked timidly. “I... I don’t really do this sort of thing,”

Your hair draped effortlessly down your shoulders, and light makeup that gave you an airbrushed look. An inviting look. Whatever made you think that you shouldn’t do this sort of thing needed to be stopped immediately because you looked wonderful.

“Draco?” You pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, recovering.

“Uh. Yes, that’s perfect,” He rushed out, your cheeks flushing pink. “Shall we?” He offered his arm.

Slipping on your heels, they clicked on the floor, a melody to the sharp sounds of his dress shoes harmonizing on the marble floors.

“So, you’ve never been to Paris?” He mused.

“No,” You looked down. “I’ve always wanted to travel but...” A sharp breath entered your glossy lips. “I guess I can now. Huh,” You smiled at the thought, holding your head high and Draco wondered if your ex-lover had prevented you from travelling. “So, this is Paris?” Your eyes flitted to the towering antique buildings, the smile remaining on your face.

“A small part of it,” Draco chuckled. “The night is coming soon, but if we have tomorrow, I’ll take you around the city,”

A laugh bubbled from your lips, a pretty sound that went with the flowers in the window boxes. The sun was setting and the streetlamps hanging their heads began to illuminate the Parisian streets. It gave the scene around them a softer look, painting you in a golden light.

“You know you don’t actually have to take me on a date,” You mused. “It’s just a case, Draco,”

“Case or not, I won’t have you in my city and not see some of it.” Draco decided.

“Your city?”

“You understand that I do have a summer home here, right?” He raised an eyebrow. “And this is where my family used to come on holiday? And that one of my best friends lives here?”

“Really?” Surprise flickered across your face. “Who?” 

“Pansy,” Draco smiled. “She moved here after...”

You nodded and your eyes traced to a small café and a couple sharing a soufflé on the patio. Your eyes dropped to the sidewalk under your heels, your smile falling.

“Would you like to get some dinner?” He asked softly.

“I... no thank you,” Your voice was quiet. “I already ate.” 

“Dessert then perhaps?” Draco tried. “Ever had crème brulee?” 

“Can’t say that I have,”

Your hand dropped from the crook of his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around yourself. He could see you shutting down at the thought and he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing you or let you close yourself off.

“Don’t you think you deserve one? You’ve always wanted to come here, you’re here now. Don’t let him ruin it,” Scared he had overstepped his bounds as your silence dragged on, Draco began to grow more worried with each quiet second.

“You’re right,” You finally spoke. “I’m here now. I’m free to do as I please. And I really want to try a crème brulee,” There was a childlike smile on your face.

Draco led you across the cobblestone street to the small café that you had been eyeing earlier and swiftly ordered for the both of you in French as you got lost in the sights and smells around you.

Despite the later hour, the café was far from closing down. The waiter came with the assortment of bakery sweets that he had ordered, and you gaped at them.

“I thought we were getting one crème brulee,” You protested.

“Well, I figured you’d want to try a few other things as well. I know that you enjoy sweet things,”

Draco pushed the small dishes your way and watched you nibble your way through the pastries and desserts, hoarding the ones you enjoyed and passing to him the ones you didn’t prefer. You were lost in your own little world as you marveled at the Parisian pastries, particularly enjoying macarons—as well as your crème brulee.

“Thank you,” You looked down, a soft smile on your lips. “This was... really nice.” The dishes had been long cleared from the table and it left the pair staring that the stars through the shop window.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Draco offered his arm again and led you back towards the hotel.

There was only one bathroom in the suite, so Draco allowed you to use it first. In the meantime, he stood out on the balcony of the suite, overlooking the Paris skyline. It hadn’t changed much since he was a small child. The only thing that seemed to change massively was the one looking out. Draco didn’t know how long he stood there, pondering the stars, but your small voice pulled him from those thoughts.

He turned and you were back into your normal favored attire: cotton sweats and a sweater, thick socks on your feet and your hair in a messy ponytail. A smile touched his lips, because you looked just as wonderful like this.

__________________________

The girl in the mirror looked confused, but happy all the same.

“We’re just friends,” I told her. “That’s all I need. This is a case. This is a job, and Draco’s a friend.” She smiled back at me and nodded.

“Draco?”

He was on the balcony, lost in thought I supposed. He turned all the same, a soft smile on his face.

“I... I can take the couch if you want,” I offered. “I’m shorter than you... it’ll probably be a nightmare for you to sleep on the couch,” My gaze dropped as I shifted from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco smiled, closing the French doors to the balcony and drawing the curtains. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again,”

“Oh,” I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that but brushed off the intrusive thoughts that threatened.

Since the bathroom was connected to the master bedroom, I perched on the bed, the bedside lamps on allowing me to continue my book. It was an old muggle classic that I found myself lost in. The bathroom door opened, and my eyes darted over to see Draco with damp hair in an old pair of Slytherin sweats and a V-neck. A small laugh escaped my lips at the sight.

“What?” He demanded.

“Nothing just didn’t expect to see you in Slytherin sweats, that’s all,” I closed my book, resting it on my lap.

“Oh, well.” He flushed slightly. “Goodnight,” 

“Goodnight,”

He closed the door behind him, and I stared at the ornate doors for longer than I cared to admit. Sighing, I pulled out the case file and began to comb through the details. Harry wanted us to find potions smugglers who sold to high-brow cliental. From Polyjuice potion to Death Draught. The next sale was supposed to go down this weekend here at the Ritz during a couples ball. There were no names given for the criminals, but a description: male, two meters tall, brown cropped hair, and green eyes.

There was something almost familiar about the description, but I couldn’t place it. Sighing, I set down the file and turned off the lights, settling in for a long day tomorrow. The oversized pillows and expensive sheets offered me no comfort. They were too cold, to silky. I craved my quilt from home and my cotton sheets.

Giving up on the notion of sleep, I threw off the covers and went to the closet. There I found a knitted blanket that was heavenly soft to the touch. Stripping the bed of the top sheet and duvet as well as most of the pillows, I curled up with the blanket and a couple pillows and chased sleep.

“What in Merlin’s name?” The voice was confused and loud for this early in the morning. “What did the pillows ever do to you?”

I blinked out of the warmth of my dream and into the crisp morning, face to face with a disheveled sleepy Draco Malfoy.

“What?” I sat up, scrubbing my eyes.

“The bed? Hell, if I knew you were going to demolish it, I would have said take the couch,” There was a slight smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel right...” I mumbled, hugging my knees. “I’ll... I’ll clean it all up.”

“Don’t bother, we’re paying enough, housekeeping can take care of it. I’ll ask if they can switch the sheets to cotton for you,”

“Oh, no. Please don’t cause any trouble on my behalf.” I stammered quickly. 

“It’s not trouble,” Draco smiled. “It’s their job, darling,”

“Doesn’t mean we have to make it harder.” I stumbled out of bed and grabbed my wand, casting a spell so that the bed remade itself. “Why are you up so early anyway? The sun is barely up.”

“Old habit,” he gave a tight smile. “Fancy some breakfast?”

“It’s too early to eat,” I grumbled. “Coffee however is necessary so lead the way, darling,” I drawled sarcastically, draping one of the hotel house coats around me to mirror Draco’s silk green one that he no doubt owned already.

Draco paused at the door.

“If you need an out. Or a break. At any time. Let me know and I’ll get you out.” His voice was careful and serious.

“I’m not going to break,” I refuted defiantly. “If that’s what you’re waiting for.” I pushed past him and out the door, down the hall and to the elevator. The ride was quiet and tense.

“I never meant to imply—”

“Just leave it.” I cut him off. “I haven’t had enough caffeine to deal with this yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered as we exited the elevator and I wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for, but it thawed me out a bit.

Breakfast was tense and quiet as we ate in silence. Draco read the Daily Prophet and I continued on my book. We made polite conversation with passersby and smiled like we were in love.

And I was in love. With the China teacups and their gold leaf accents. With the rich foods served and the beautiful decor. I was in love with the lavish tablecloths and the fancy napkins. I adored the chandeliers and sconces and fresh flowers that were on every table. It was beautiful and I was in love with it.

It wasn’t fair that Draco looked at home among the beautiful things. As if he came with them. “Are you still wanting to see the city?” He asked cautiously when we were back up in the suite.

“If you’re willing to put up with me for the day,” a smile touched my lips. “I... I know I can be a handful.”

“All things considered,” he mused softly. “I think you’re doing wonderfully.”

I smiled and lingered a moment longer than necessary before heading to the master bedroom to change. Favoring for a pair of high waisted black slim pants and a cold shoulder emerald top, I decided I could have looked worse. Lacing up my boots I headed out to Draco who was laying down his collar. His eyes swept over my figure, leaving me slightly self-conscious as I braided my hair loosely.

“Here,” Draco reached into the nearest drawer and pulled out a black ribbon and passed it to me before reaching back into the drawer. “These are my mother’s, but I don’t think she’ll mind you borrowing them,”

He offered me a black velvet box and inside were nestled a pair of diamond earrings. 

“Draco, I can’t—”

“You can and you will,” he smiled. “You deserve it,”

I looked at the earring and my resolves crumbled as I put them on.

“Is this your suite then?” I mused.

“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” he chuckled.

“Should have known from all the green,” I teased back.

“It’s a regal color,” Draco insisted.

“Sure thing darling,” a chuckle left my lips as we headed out the door. 

“It is!” He tried again, causing me to laugh. 

_________________________________

Draco had been to Paris just about as many times as he had been to London. Perhaps the city lost some of its shine over the years. Maybe after the war the Paris lights didn’t look the same to him. Perchance he had lost his childlike awe of the historical envied city.

But you... you had never been to Paris. You have never walked along the Seine. You had never seen the Eiffel Tower, never browsed the art of the Louvre. You’d never stood under the light filtered through the stain glass of the Notre Dame. Your fingers never ran over the rough stone of the Arc de Triomphe.

Now you had.

“This was a very nice not date,” You smiled, sitting beside him on a bench watching the people of Paris below you from the top of the Eiffel Tower. “I can see why you keep coming back,”

“I haven’t been since the... since I became an Auror,” Draco’s eyes were trained on the horizon.

“Well... I’m glad you came.” There was a gentle smile on your face as he caught your warm eyes. “On the case, I mean.” You recovered and looked down at your hands. “I know this probably isn’t easy for you either,”

“It could have been worse,” Draco teased lightly. “I could have been stuck with Greengrass,” His words seemed to pull you from your moping thoughts as your smile returned.

“She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure you would have been fine.” You went back to fidgeting with your hands, your eyes dropping to them, “Besides who wouldn’t want to go undercover as Draco Malfoy’s significant other,” It was a sad sort of humor.

“You?” Draco pressed softly.

You gnawed on your lip, lost in thought as your eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “We should go,” You barely whispered, standing. “We have a banquet tonight at the hotel.” 

“Y/n,” Draco followed you to the elevators.

“What?” It was a bit more defensive now.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t mean a lot of things, I know,” Your arms folded tightly across your chest, your head ducked down. “It’s fine, we have a case to do and a criminal to catch. You said it yourself, I need to be sharp and focused to do this successfully,” Your tone was clipped, and Draco was taken aback at your sudden change of attitude on a drop of a dime as his words came back to haunt him. “So, if you don’t mean any of it, then neither do I,”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. Your abrasive words sent him reeling. What had happened to the girl who was wonderstruck by the city? The girl who was amused at the street performers and the girl who smiled something carefree? Just when he thought the real you was free beside him, you caged her back again and locked him out, and he shouldn’t care, but he did. Because you were hurting. The same way that he used to.

But he had to admit that you were right, he had a case to accomplish. And if he wasn’t focused you could get hurt, he could get hurt, or the felon could slip through your fingers.

In his well tailor suit and his hair coiffed back precisely, he was ready to do everything and mean nothing. A cold mask that you mirrored as he met you in a deep navy draped silk gown, your heels in hand again. His heart didn’t mean to skip a beat.

Tucked against his side, smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world, he was quite glad that the other guests and staff didn’t expect much animation from him. It gave him time to keep an eye on you. He could schmooze with ease and little effort, and he soon learned that so could you. From the outside, you two looked perfectly smitten with another. Despite his many shortcomings, Harry was right, you two were perfect with this case.

But that’s not what held Draco’s main focus. Instead, it was the constant reminder that this meant nothing. Every gentle touch of your hand, every smile, every pet name, every laugh, every praise of him, every declaration of love, every concerned and caring word—they all meant nothing. It meant nothing to you. It was an act. A job. A case.

And he was losing focus.

Because though you had stumbled into his affluent world in jeans and a sweater, you were now at home among the wealthy wizards you now rubbed elbows with, possessing the grace and poise of someone who was brought up like he was. You knew how to use the silverware set before you. You knew proper etiquette.

“Miss Y/n,”

Amelia Bones, the former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was sat at the banquet table along with you and Draco. You rose your head politely, nodding a hello.

“I’m surprised to see you so cozy with Mr. Malfoy, was it not a month ago you were engaged to another?” Her words seemed harmless, but Draco watched your smile become more forced as the breaths passed.

“My apologies,” Draco cut in coldly. “But I don’t see how that is any of your business,” 

“Oh, forgive me dearie, I meant no offense at all,” Mrs. Bones flutter her hand.

“Of course,” You smiled widely, “And yes, you’re correct, but well, since working with Draco it deemed nearly impossible not to fall for him,” The look you gave him made him lose focus completely. “And it was an arranged marriage, my parents offered me the option at the beginning of the war, and well, I had no reason to refuse,” Your hand slipped into his. “Until I met Draco that was,”

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely,” Mrs. Bones fawned to her husband beside her. “A real fairytale ending you have yourself Y/n, I’m sure others are just dying to be in your shoes,”

“I’m sure,” Your smile became forced again, but you held your composure.

But that didn’t mean that Draco didn’t commandeer the conversation to keep the attention off of you for the remainder of the banquet. You excused yourself slightly early, though it was a polite time to leave, nonetheless. Draco bid the folks he was talking to and followed you out.

He found you on the balcony, barefoot, your hair out of the tight bun it had been in, your dress still on. The stars stretched out before you over the rooftops of Paris, the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the distance.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Your words were barely audible.

“I didn’t say anything,” Draco retorted, slipping off his blazer and tie.

“You were thinking it,”

He smiled as he came beside you, leaning against the railing.

“Maybe I was,” He sighed softly. “Regardless, you’re my partner on this case, and I dare say you’re a friend of mine. I’d like to know if you’re okay. It’s what friends do,”

A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes lifted from your hands back to the skyline blinking back tears.

“Friends,” You muttered weakly. Not that he liked the word much either, but he’d take it to keep you close.

“I... I know that we—I haven’t had much luck at this, but if... if you need someone to...” Draco trailed off, shaking his head. He knew it was a lost cause. He knew that you didn’t mean anything.

Again, you were quiet. He turned to leave, but you spoke up.

“He was supposed to be my happily ever after,” The words were soft and sad. “My prince charming come to save me.” Draco paused and turned back to you; his brows furrowed. “All this time I thought he’d save me... but I ended up saving myself, and him.” You went from facing the city to facing him, “And he refused to save himself. And made me feel terrible for saving myself... for becoming someone new... someone stronger.”

“You... seemed happier after...” Draco spoke carefully.

You nodded. “Everyone was waiting for me to break. To cry... go off the wall... and sometimes I wonder why I don’t. Why I can’t.” You turned your head to the side. “Sure, I get snappy... and the nights haunt me... but to cry? To miss someone who drained me?” A shrug fell from your shoulders. “I can’t do it...” A pause. “Maybe I am broken. I can’t even break properly.”

“No one said you had to break,” Draco took a careful step forward. “No one said you had to cry.” 

“But shouldn’t I?” There were tears in your eyes now.

“No,” Draco shook his head softly. “Breaking hurts, and it seems like you already have. Now you’re just picking up the pieces where you can,”

You mulled over the thought and nodded, facing the city once more.

“They always talk about the one who got away, but they never ask her why she left, do they?” The question was gentle from your lips as Draco left you alone to think. He was sure that he wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.

____________________________

The cotton sheets of the king-sized bed that night welcomed me. The bedding had changed drastically, from silks and down feathers to cotton and quilted blankets. They were still green and gold, but it was an improvement as I stared at the paintings on the walls and ceiling. Despite the change in sheets, sleep still eluded me. Frustrated this time, I slipped on the housecoat and quietly opened the bedroom doors.

Only to find Draco awake with the light on, reading. I almost wanted to smile at how he was draped over the couch in sweats and nothing else, looking at home among the lavish furnishings. He looked up from his book.

“Can’t sleep,” I confessed, leaning against the door jam. “Thanks for the sheets and stuff though...”

“Is there something I can do?” He asked softly, setting down his book, sitting up.

“Got any Sleeping Draught on you?” I asked hopefully.

“Afraid not,” He pursed his lips.

Moving to the adjacent chaise lounge, I curled up under the throw blanket, running the golden fringe through my fingers.

I wasn’t aware of when I had fallen asleep. I was barely aware being carried to the lavish bed and tucked in. I was aware that I had moved when I awoke to the sun shining in through the curtains.

“Good morning,” Draco greeted as I exited the bedroom, dressed for the day.

The day was a quiet affair. Breakfast mimicked yesterday and lunch mirrored dinner last night. There was no time to go out on the city today, not with the masquerade ball tonight. This was the entire reason for this weekend in Paris. To get into this ball and catch the convict. It took the two hours that it took to get ready to remind myself that this was a case, and not a fairytale ending. I didn’t get those.

Draco escorted me down to the ballroom, commenting on how beautiful I was. I let the compliment roll off my shoulders though I desperately wanted to cling to his words. Words that he didn’t mean.

It didn’t seem fair that the entire Ritz hotel was something out of a fairytale and tonight I was required to pose as the perfect princess, though I felt far from it. My only relief was that my eyes were hidden behind a mask. No one would see accidental tears. I had told Draco that I didn’t need to break, but this might just break me.

An hour slipped by of talking and schmoozing other guests before Draco led me to an adjacent standing table, offering me a haven from the prying eyes and whispers.

“Would you care to dance?” Draco offered his hand, smiling, as the next waltz began from the live quartet.

“We don’t have time to dance,” I retorted. “We’re on a case here,”

“It’s just one dance,” He rolled his eyes, his hand sliding to my waist, ready to escort me.

“You need to focus on this case Draco,” I snapped. “We need to catch this guy in case you’ve forgotten.” I didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh.

“Of course,” His hand dropped from my waist, “If you’ll excuse me,” Draco said quietly. 

“Dray, wait, I didn’t mean—”

“I’d know those lips anywhere,” A familiar voice purred from behind me.

“Dean,” My breath caught in my throat as I turned, wishing I hadn’t just sent Draco off.

“And I thought he’d never leave.” Dean grinned. “I gotta say, didn’t think you’d move onto some stiff like Malfoy, and so soon. Does he know he’s a rebound?”

“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, taking my clutch and walking away from him, scanning the crowd for Draco to no avail.

Dean grabbed my arm and spun me back, a dangerous look in his eyes. He pulled me to a quiet corner of the ballroom.

“Let go of me,” I shook him off, drawing my wand.

“Now, now, wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now would we?” His smile became predatory. “There are quite a few important Muggles in the crowd tonight,”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” I hissed.

“Such naughty language in front of such high paying cliental.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “It’s you,” I breathed out. “You’re the seller,”

“In the flesh, sweetheart,” His green eyes held danger. “What, didn’t expect me to move onto something better? Like you went off and did anything valuable with your life after me, not that Malfoy is much of an improvement.”

I hid my surprise well: he didn’t know that I was an Auror. He didn’t know about the case. Now all I had to do was get him away from harming anyone and pray that Draco would find me to help detain Dean. But to get Dean away from these people, I was going to have to break. Hard.

A perfect masquerade to be someone that I wasn’t. Someone that Dean wanted me to be. Someone who would break my heart.

“Tell me about,” I smiled sweetly, “Maybe I’ll ditch the stiff.” My eyes scanned over Dean in false want.

“So, you realize that leaving me was a mistake,” Dean tilted his chin back.

“Since the moment I walked away,” The lie weighed heavy on my tongue. “Please De,” My hand trailed up his arm.

I could feel my heart splintering. 

_______________________________

“Not to alarm you Mr. Malfoy, but it seems that your lady is being entertained by another young man,” Mrs. Bones spoke softly. “They just left out the side door,”

Draco snapped out of his self-pity party as he scanned the crowd for you, his anxiety and adrenaline spiking. You had found the convict.

“Thank you,” Draco gave curtly, untying the mask from around his head and as soon as the door closed behind him, he took off running, wand out, desperate to find you.

He heard soft voices in coming from an adjacent sitting room and cautiously hovered outside the door.

“Remember this?” The voice was low and husky, and one he didn’t recognize. 

“Yes,” Your breathy voice came in response.

A thousand thoughts ran through Draco’s mind and for a moment he thought that you really had run off with someone else. That you hadn’t found the felon, but rather someone to... He didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Say it,” The first voice demanded.

“I’m s-sorry,” Your voice whimpered. “I’m sorry I ever left you. Draco... he—he’s nothing compared to you,” Fear and tears were mixed with your voice and Draco had a very good idea of who was in there with you.

Call it jealousy, or his job, Draco burst into the room, finding you pinned against the wall, hands above your head held there by a young man whose lips were pressed to your neck, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. A man with green eyes and brown cropped hair. Their target. And you had found him. And he seemed to know you. Very well.

Then it clicked. The criminal was your ex-lover. Of course, it was. When Draco saw Harry again, he was going to sock him a-la-muggle.

You look absolutely terrified when Draco caught your eyes. Your mask was gone, and you looked disheveled and defeated.

“I was hoping you’d show Malfoy,” An amused smile curled on the target’s lips as he let you go. You fell to the floor, caught off balance.

“Don’t hurt him,” You pleaded, picking yourself up, and Draco didn’t know if you were talking to him or the target.

“You’re not in a place to bargain, sweetheart,” The target snapped. “Auror Malfoy. Here to turn me in I suppose?”

“After I beat the hell out of you, yeah, it’s on my list of things to do,” Draco snarled. 

“What? For taking your girl from you?” The target laughed. “She was never yours.” 

“She might not be mine, but she sure as hell doesn’t belong to you either,”

“I’m afraid she does,” The target grabbed your arm and jerked you in front of him, creating a shield between he and Draco with you. “And you obviously care for her, so here’s what’s going to happen.” The man drew his wand and held it to your throat. “You’re going to let me make the deal I need to, and then I’m going to take Miss Y/l/n here and leave,”

Draco glowered, his mind racing to figure out how to get you safely out of this. He could see you trembling, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“Dean, please,” You whimpered, curling yourself into his arms.

Your arms draped around the target’s—Dean’s shoulders as you whispered soft things into his ear that made Dean grin and Draco’s blood boil. How could Dean not see how uncomfortable you were? How you shied away from him? Draco’s grip on his wand tightened.

He watched as your lips pressed to Dean’s neck, your hands trailing down his ill-fitting polyester suit as you slinked your way around the felon, distracting Dean long enough that Draco was able to throw a Full Body Bind at him.

“You bitch!” Dean roared.

“You’re the bitch here,” You snarled. “How in a million years could you think that I would want you?” Seething you rounded your frozen ex, wand drawn. “I did do something with my life you asshole! I’m an Auror! And a damn good one!”

“You never had the guts,” Dean barked a laugh.

“On the contrary,” Draco grinned. “She’s the best one we’ve got,”

“You two set me up!”

“Duh,” You laughed, tucking away your wand.

Draco wanted to warn you about the dangers of the deed, but you surprised him and drew back your fist, landing it squarely on Dean’s nose.

“That’s for assaulting me!” Another to his jaw, “That’s for using me!” One more to his cheek, “And that’s for coming back into my life,”

You turned and walked away from Dean, leaving him bleeding, still petrified. Draco caught your hand before you stormed out of the room.

“I’m fine,” You shrugged him off.

“No, you’re not,” Draco refuted.

“Awe, trying to play hero, now?” Dean jeered.

You froze under Draco’s touch, squeezing your eyes shut, your jaw clenching.

“She doesn’t need a hero,” Draco let you go and faced Dean. “She picked herself back up and walked away from a lowlife like you. You were so wrong to ever assume that she needed to be saved.”

There was a knock on the door. 

______________________________

I was still trembling. It had been about two hours since Dean first touched me. First shoved me against a wall and forced his lips on mine. From when I had first started to shatter.

In that time, Mrs. Bones had intervened and called backup to detain and court away Dean to Azkaban, the room had been cleaned of any trace of our battle, and Draco and I were alone in the suite, for one last night before we left.

We hadn’t spoken a word since the fight and the tension between us was tangible. Curled up in a deck chair, I desperately tried to rid my mind from Dean and the feeling of his hands on me, his lips on my skin, his whispered words. I shouldn’t be afraid. Not like this. I was an Auror. I was independent and strong.

But hell, I was breaking. Fast and hard.

Draco knocked on the balcony door, drawing my attention. I looked to him, hopeless and terrified. He offered his hand, an invitation, a call. I rose, my resolve fading as I ran into his arms, breaking down in tears. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me to his chest. I frantically grasped at his white button up, trying to ground myself.

Draco gently tugged me to the floor, still cradling me in his arms.

“I—I’m sorry,” I cried out. “I... he... I thought I...”

He shushed me softly and rubbed my back softly. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” 

“I didn’t mean it,” I gasped out through tears. 

“I know,” His tone was somber.

But though the night dragged relentlessly, it was not the worst night of my life. I took comfort from that. And I was not alone. There was a great deal of comfort in that, too.

My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I’d made, every bit of harm I’d done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I’d caused Draco, each wound I’d given myself, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.

And I realized that I’d been wrong all along about wanting to be alone. It had not been Draco and I that I’d been trying to force apart, it was the two parts of myself, the one who craved a companion and the one who was independent and free. But they didn’t know how to exist together, and I should have tried harder to figure it out.

I’d done so much damage.

Draco said little; he just held me on the floor and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with saltwater. At some point a blanket was draped around my shoulders and I was too miserable to figure out where it came from.

It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. While I slept, I felt warm, protected, comforted. I didn’t feel alone.

In the morning, I saw the reason why. It was one of the reasons that had me terrified in the beginning of this entire case:

There was only one bed.

And I wasn’t alone.

Epilogue:

“I did apologize right?” I asked again sheepishly.

“And I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” Draco smiled. “It’s what friends are for Y/n,”

I smiled at the word. Friends. It was the solution to my dilemma. The part of myself that craved a companion but satisfied the girl with dreams and freedom. It was in front of me the entire time. I wished I had realized sooner, and maybe this weekend would have been different, but friends... more than friends, whatever we were or weren’t, Draco had decided to stand by me regardless, and I was grateful.

“Y/l/n, Malfoy, how was Paris?” Harry asked offhandedly as we reported to him Monday morning.

What I wasn’t expecting however, was Draco grabbing Harry’s collar and decking him.

I covered my mouth, trying to conceal a laugh but failed miserably.

“What the hell Malfoy?” Harry sputtered, holding his bleeding nose.

“You wanna know who was dealing those illegal potions?” Malfoy snarled. “Her ex. And you sent her into this weekend blind,”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock as he stammered out apologies.

I rolled my eyes and left the office, a warm smile on my face. Draco walked beside me.

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” I muttered. “Is your hand alright?”

“I know how to throw a punch and not injure myself,” Draco rolled his eyes at me. “And I’ll take any chance I can get to punch Potter in the face,”

I laughed as we apparated to Paris for lunch.

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise  @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread  @okaydraco@the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08@thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy@strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise@artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos@quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo​ @wollymalfoy​ @lilpieceoftoast​  @paper-cats​ @floweryjh​ @sdicapriox​ @slothgirl22​ @peachesandpinks​ ​ @hufflautia​ @livize75​ @annie-mcl​ @riathearora​ @live-like-luna​ @justathoughtfulangel​ @coconutdawn​ @skteaiy​ @wannabeskinny-thinspo​ @naughtygranger​ @queenofmankind​ @dragonsandbread​ @abundantxadorations​ @moony-artnstuff​ @myforeveryoungblog​ @and-then-a-girl-with-luv​ @1-800-luvsick​ @pandas-rice-field​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @jjustsomerandomgirl​ @mrvlfangirl3190​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @emmaa-t​ @introvertedrae​ @infinity1o1​ @stoleurmomsvan​ @echpr​ @sunkissed-hufflepuff​ @dekulover​ @marshmallowtraver​ @cereuselle​ @lonely-skywalker​ @xlosttdreamss​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @hoeforthefictional​ @coldlilheart​ @helen-paris​ @romance-geek​ @rosie-starlit-sky​ @californiaa-babyy​ @vulture-withafile​ @hogstupefy​ @littlepanda-love​ @eveft​ @iraniq​

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 21 - The Halloween Fair

[ DS ]

On the afternoon of the Halloween fair, I take out the costume that Miss Hannigan picked out for me from the closet. Ever since I’ve got it, I’m beyond excited to wear it. It’s a black low-cut shirt, a white, checkered suit with a blazer that ties at the waist and a flaring skirt. As I put on the blonde wig and the black beret, I turn to the mirror channeling my best inner Faye Dunaway and say to myself in a breathy, southern lilt: “My, my, don’t you just look dandy, Miss Bonnie Parker!”

My friends have been roped into manning the booths of the fair and somehow, I’ve slipped under the town people’s radars, which leaves me able to roam around the fair, albeit alone. Since I’ve known most people in this town ever since I was little, I’m never actually alone at these happenings, people tend to just pull me into their conversation as I walk by. But as luck will have it, as I’m rounding one of the booths of the fair, I find myself face to face with the one person I had secretly hoped to see.

He’s wearing a brown tweed suit with a matching waistcoat and over the white collared shirt he’s tied an emerald green tie. Perched on his head is a white fedora. ‘Shit. He’s Clyde. What the fuck?’

We stop in our tracks and stare at each other for a moment, taking in our respective costumes. He’s the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” His Warren Beatty impression is perfect right down to the Texan drawl. ‘God help me…’

“Gosh, I hope you’ve parked the getaway car around the corner, Clyde!” I’m putting on my best Faye Dunaway impression again as I add a wink to my statement and just continue to walk past him. My heart thumping hard against my chest betrays my cool exterior, but that’s my secret and my secret alone.

----------

[ FM ]

When we finally get to the Halloween fair that Felix has roped me into, dressed up in a costume I didn’t even pick myself. We trail the grounds together and we’re drawn to the candy apple booth. Well actually, Felix draws us to this exact booth, the little sneak, but I can’t resist his pout and pleading eyes, so we end up getting an apple each. Munching away happily, his mouth full, he asks the question I’ve been too scared to ask myself: “Hey dad, do you think Miss Scully is here too with her friends?” I hope she is, if only to see what kind of costume she has picked out for herself, but I can’t tell Felix that. Instead, I just shrug and we continue our stroll across the town square.

When we round another booth, we both stop in our tracks as we see a blonde woman appear before us , dressed in a checkered suit and a beret on her head. ‘Bonnie. She’s the freakin’ Bonnie to your Clyde. Your sidekick. No, your partner in crime. The woman you love. In the movie of course. Insert awkward cough.’.

Felix is oblivious of course, he hasn’t seen the movies and I doubt he even knows what my costume is, let alone Miss Scully’s. I scrape together the last braincells that are left in my head and a stupid movie quote is the only thing I can think of at this moment.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” The retort she gives me combined with her wink render me speechless until she’s well past me and Felix, mingling with the small crowd that welcomes her into their midst just a few feet away from us.

Felix does the thing I wish I could bring myself to do, staring at her retreating form in wonder and he also speaks the words that have sprung to my own mind.

“Wow!”

----------

[ DS ]

Countless conversations later and a little tipsy on the delicious apple cider they always serve at the Halloween fair, I wander along the booths when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in over a year. And could’ve gone forever not hearing again. It’s my ex-whatever Steve, talking to one of his friends.

I’m hidden pretty well in the crowd of people due to my shortness but I can still catch flashes of their conversation. When I hear my name, I stop, straining my ears.

“Dana? Oh God, no. She’s not even close to being a serious contender for a relationship.” I wince at his statement as well as the tone of his voice. “She’s just always there, you know? Like a well trained Golden Retriever, I say the word and she comes running. Such an easy lay!” When they share a laugh I can feel the flush of shame and anger crawl up my neck.

The situation he describes is exactly what I’ve spent countless hours in therapy getting over. But what he says next really drives a stake through my heart. “It’s so pathetic, but if it’s what I have to do to get laid, whatever. She’s even dirtier in bed than any hot teacher fantasy you could ever imagine and what they say about good Catholic girls is very, very accurate, if you know what I mean!”

If he weren’t the demon I have to face every time I try to get over my past, I would’ve revealed myself and give his ass a good kicking for talking about me the way he has. But not knowing how I’ll react to being face-to-face with him, I stay hidden behind a group of mummies and zombies like a fucking coward.

I’m so furious with him and myself for not being able to stand up to him. Where the hell are my friends when I need them? I haven’t seen them all evening and I could really use their company to talk some sense into me. Since they’re nowhere to be found, I head towards the bar set up in the back and slide onto a stool, ordering a shot of Tequila. ‘Fuck it! That low-life is not even worth your time of day!’

On the surface, I’m so angry I want to set this whole damn place on fire, but deep down, the past hurt resurfaces to join the hurt from his words I just heard.

By the time I’ve downed my second shot, I’ve repeated the mantra that I’m a strong woman who’s better off without men in my head about a thousand times. I see someone slide onto the stool next to me out of the corner of my eye as I order another shot of Tequila to keep the two empty glasses in front of me company.

“A third shot of Tequila is just asking for trouble, if you ask me.” I turn my head slowly towards my bar-mate to tell him exactly where to shove his smart-ass remark when I’m faced with my supposed partner in crime, the charming one with the disarmingly innocent smile on his stupid face. I’m staring him down defiantly, my eyes never leaving his while the bartender places my glass in front of me and I grab it, downing it in a swift motion, daring him in my mind to say anything else. He doesn’t comment, good for him, and orders a shot for himself, just raising his glass silently and I clink it with my empty one – I’m tipsy, not insane, chasing one shot with another.

We’re staring straight ahead during our conversation, turning our glasses over and over between our fingers.

“Which guy seems to be the problem and how many rounds of ammo do I need to take him out?,” he asks after minutes of silence. I want to lean into him for just assuming that it’s a man that has me sitting here seething, but unfortunately, he’s right. This one time.

“How many rounds you got?” He scoffs at that.

“Plenty. And I know of exactly eleven ways to get rid of a body without raising suspicion.”

“And here I was thinking the FBI frowned upon their employees giving out top-level secrets on how to hide away evidence of a crime committed.”

“I’m not going to tell you, I wouldn’t want you to be held in contempt of Congress when questioned.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t rat you out when questioned by Congress?”

“Just a hunch… Talk to me, Red. What happened tonight?” He turns towards me and I can feel his gaze dancing over the skin of my face.

“You really want to know? Well, turns out the asshole of an ex of mine decided that today might be the perfect time to make an encore appearance in my life and reminded me again why I should’ve kicked him to the curb a long time ago instead of hoping I could change him.” Looking down at the bar, I trace my finger through the condensation drops, my anger slowly dissipating and my voice growing more and more quiet. “I heard him say some pretty awful things about me tonight.”

I relax into his hand when he places it comfortingly on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and huff out a sigh. “I’m sorry.,” is the only thing he says, but doesn’t add anything else, giving me the choice if I wanted to elaborate or not.

“What I witnessed today was the way he’s always been but I just couldn’t see through the masquerade of the sweet guy, he was so kind and said all the right things and he quite literally wooed the pants off me from the get-go.”

“Love bombing.” ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a profiler. You probably already got one worked out for me, trust-issues, anxious attachment style, possibly daddy issues, in short, a hot mess. Avoid at all costs.’

“Pretty much, yeah. And I was stupid enough to believe it.” I raise my hand to call over the bartender for another round.

“You’re not stupid. It’s hard to tell the difference between genuine interest and love bombing in the beginning.” ‘Yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s exactly why I’m sitting here torn between wanting you to make a pass at me and being absolutely terrified that you actually will.’

“How about we pass on the shots and get some water instead before calling it a night?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea, Mr. Mulder!”

“You know, after tonight, what do you say we just drop the Mister?” I nods slowly, pursing my lips.

“So just Fox?” He makes a pained face.

“No, please don’t. Just Mulder is fine.”

“Mh-hm. I guess since we’re dropping the titles, that that makes me Scully? Little odd, but alright!”

We get the check and argue back and forth about who gets to pay, him putting an end to it with a firm “Will you give it a rest, you’ll get to pick up the next check!”.

In my attempt to slide off the barstool gracefully despite three tequila shots, my heel catches onto the rail at the bottom and I stumble over the stool, knocking it over in the process. I have only his quick reflexes to thank that I don’t follow suit, his arms catching me around my waist and pulling me upright again.

He has the audacity to laugh, the bastard, and I’m beyond mortified. “Easy there, partner! Do you need a ride home? Felix is at a pajama party at his friend Suzie’s house, so I’m free to be your pumpkin carriage for tonight.” ‘NO! Yes? No. Get your hands off me. Don’t let go just yet.’

I’m so confused at the tug of war in my fuzzy head but I hate getting a cab alone and I’m in heels on top of being tipsy, I don’t want to walk home alone at night.

As we walk out, his hand finds his way to the small of my back guiding me through the crowds while making sure I don’t stumble again.

On the drive to the beach house, I manage not to fall asleep despite how tired I feel, too afraid of snoring or, God forbid, drooling onto myself. His hands find my back again guiding me up the stairs to the front door and I turn to face him at the top, even more nervous.

“Thanks for the ride, Mulder. And for listening.”

“Anytime, Scully. Good night!”

When he leans in, I start to panic that this is it and I think it shows on my face, because he only kisses my cheek, just like I did after the birthday party before getting back in the car and heading home. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I can’t ignore the flutter of excitement every time his hands land anywhere on my body but what I will absolutely deny, even to myself, is the way my heart constricts in my chest when he gazes at me that way and the sense of comfort that settles over me when we’re together.

Bodily reactions I can deal with, it’s when it comes to emotions is where it gets scary.

I just don’t think my heart can survive another Steve.

[cupsofsuga]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers.  I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ 💐} REQUEST - ❝ Can I have the boys reactions to an s/o who show her possessiveness by wearing their clothes ? She's all happy and proud to go to the university or whatever wearing their shirt because " That way everyone will know that I'm yours and you're mine , plus it smells like you 🥺 " ❞

{ ☕️} NOTE - thank you so so much for requesting, dollface!

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

━━━ November’s essence kisses the air of your living room, it’s fierce caress trailing across your skin. You, ever so intelligently, stated with pride that you could handle the cold, regretting the choice as the embers of moonlight trace their fingertips across naked goosebumps. Strolling through the halls of your home, shivering from the sharp wind, you find your bedroom with intentions of retrieving some form of warmth. You discover a grey hoodie, lethargically tossed over a chair. The owner’s identity is quickly exposed, as the sweatshirt descends down your form due to your lover’s broad shoulders. You have now found solace, drowned in the scent of cologne.

Oh, and the blush that blooms beat-red across Jin’s cheeks is a sight you’ll never forget.

Following that occurrence (and the rest of the night spent smothered in your boyfriend’s lily-pure affection), you’ve taken notice of Jin’s not-so-subtle efforts to usher you into wearing his clothes again. At first, it began with leaving articles of clothing in numerous places, but that plan backfired as you silently scolded him under your breath for not tidying up after himself. This strategy escalated into Jin planting his clothes in your drawer’s, then claiming it was an “accident” or "a way to save space.” The red hues painting his ears and the way he avoids eye-contact jeopardizes his weak filter, though. At least you find his everlasting, spring-scented infatuation beneath the facade of damp rain and rotten trees. Be careful, though. If you venture too deep into the depths of Kim Seokjin and you’ll find sights of crimson-stained sins.

❝ God, you have way too much power over me, y’know? I’m always so soft for you, ‘fucking moron. ❞

𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

━━━ The evening mist glides through the brume of your boudoir, where you are embraced by the neglected clothes of your boyfriend like snow sleeping on a pine tree. After a particularly cold night strikes your studio apartment, the empty sheets and abandoned blankets failed to bring the solace of the sweltering summer-warmth your lover possesses. You yearned for Yoongi and the moonlight, the coffee stains, and stormy nights that kiss his form. The rhythmic melody of his gentle voice; the crow’s caress that wanders his skin. And despite his overbearing worry and protectiveness that you’ve brushed off as “concern for your health,” you crave those December eyes and that feeble heart. Fortunately for you, your knight in shining armor didn’t venture too far away. And finding you nestled under numerous covers causes worry to immediately swell within his heart.

His concern is distinctly evident, as his shrill voice of distress invades the midnight breeze. You swear you feel him shiver with dread when he feels how frigid you are when he shakily takes your hand into his. And before you express your refusal to his care, Yoongi vanishes from the bedroom to draw you a bath. If you think he’s exaggerating your discomfort due to the November weather, think again. Your name is then sung into the air, blossoming into the twilight’s brume as you escape the warmth of your bed and stroll to your lover. Before you, you’ll find the hot water adorned in bubbles and flower petals, candles littered around the room (far from the tub, for your safety), melodies of violin and piano reverberating through the area, and the sugary caresses from your Yoongi as the cherry on top. Whilst adorned in the blissful harmony of peace, you can't help but let your mind wander. His worry has always been grand, so grand that you fear his heart may actually stop beating if your safety was ever at stake.

Oh, well, at least he cares. Maybe a little too much.

❝ My Y/N, if you ever, ever need anything, I will always be right here… Always… ❞

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

━━━ Finding your boyfriend nestled under a canopy of your clothing was never a shock, as your scent of cheap whiskey and jasmines beneath the August sun lulled his soul to ease. The sultry high he’s given when inhaling another article of clothing is euphoric, infinite. To breathe in your musk is to find an eternal night beneath the purple rain; to drown in the depths of you is to savor the stars as they breathe out the dust of twilight. There’s a garden that thrives around the simple presence of your fragrance and Hoseok can’t imagine a greater bliss that is your essence. That is until he finds you draped in one of the many sweaters he owns, the red threading like Autumn against your form.

He was always swift to recognize his infatuation, but to know the emotions he immerses himself into are mutual emits a variety of nymphs to tangle themselves with his heartbeat. He feels the rhythms of sunlight as they batter against his ribcage and nothing, nothing is as ecstatic as this.

Twilight has occurred, the moonlight bleeds through the glass panes and hits your eyes ever so elegantly. It reflects a soft radiance as if the moon was swimming in your irises. You are beautiful, lying on the couch with his sweater on like a stray cat who will soon vanish into the arms of the night. It was no secret that Hoseok adored seeing you in his clothes, as his boisterous admiration morphed into suffocating infatuation. There was even a time where you reached into the pocket of his sweater during class and find a folded piece of paper containing a sweet note (that was just a tad bit creepy) along with doodles of hearts, flowers, cats, and dogs. Hoseok's love may cut deep with its shattered-lily touch, but it is entirely pure. Despite the obsession seeping through his affections, he loves you more than you could ever possibly know.

❝ Hey, isn’t it crazy how after all this time, you still manage to give me so many butterflies? I… I think I’m gonna love you forever… ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

━━━ You anticipate for your lover to return to your home, stumbling around the adobe in utter boredom. Although this lifeless night is all too dull, you notice how the penthouse you wander around resembles a palace. With its crystalline chandeliers and marble tiles, its paradisiac view of the city that never sleeps and melodies of chefs and maids rustling around the residence. Through the lavish estate, you find the bedroom, embellished in opulent riches of all kinds. Then, there’s the closet, decked out to the brim in treasures of Gucci, Chanel, and Prada. There’s jewelry, bags, shoes, nearly every single article of clothing an item you couldn’t dream of affording in your past, mundane life. Your eyes settle on a blazer, exquisitely threaded with the finest of silks nestled deep within the closet.

The coat is a tad bit too large for your form, but you believe it fits you like a glove. And despite there being a faint stain of spilled champagne on the sleeve, coming home to his summer sunset wearing his attire like its armor, Namjoon has never tasted bliss as divine as this.

The skies once painted baby blue morph into the dark hues of twilight. Night has come, euphoria has been found within the tendrils of your hair on his chest and the littering of bubblegum-pink kisses across your skin. For reasons Namjoon can’t define, seeing you in his clothes causes his heart to tremble and plummet. There’s this sudden veil of exhilaration, like a July night spent with your record collection and red wine. It’s an enchantment that aches deep within his chest, where the desire to submerge you in his affections burns within his heart. He gazes at your now sleeping form, naming off every detail of you that he loves so much like he’s counting dollar bills in his hands. His moonlight’s essence, his lavender’s breath, his garden full of violets. You have taught him how to live without rain and he can’t gift you enough gratitude for this blessing. But, just don’t be surprised when you find your closet covered in dust. You’re only allowed to wear his clothes from now on.

❝ Damn, blue is an outstanding color on you. Maybe that should be the color for our wedding… Wait- shit! I-I-I didn’t say anything! ❞

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

━━━ Upon the surface of your bed, the voice of rain trembles against the thin roof above you. Tree branches sway with the heavy wind, lightning lashes like a whip against the evening floor. You feel the nightly embrace of bitter inclemency, as the earthly musk swims around the bedroom. Despite finally having a night alone, you notice yourself longing for the tumultuous warmth of your lover. A single night spent in isolation, Jimin didn’t take it lightly. After all, what is life without the iridescence of a Summer’s kiss? How can he breathe without immersing himself within the depths of his angel’s orchestra? You can assume what thoughts of hunger are rumbling through the boy’s mind, but you are oblivious to the saturated sound of Jimin weeping into his cold flesh.

You retrieve one of his sweaters in the meantime, inhaling his fragile scent of honey and moonflowers. He must be adorned in several layers of just your clothes, you joke to yourself. The enchantment of the rain’s melody and the fragrance of your boyfriend then lulls you into slumber, to where you then awake the following morning to dawn painting the optimistic face of Jimin.

Finding you in his sweater, knowing you had missed him, he had blushed like a tomato ready to harvest, that confident and broad facade melting like ice cream, to where he became a sugary puddle of flowering feelings and summer velvet. He looked like a young schoolboy who had received a love letter in his locker, as the blood of Aphrodite paints his cheeks rosy and utter bewitchment has him smiling like a lovestruck idiot. As you then regain consciousness, you are then smothered in Jimin’s affections. He kisses you everywhere wild as if leaving a single inch of skin unloved would kill him. He’ll even go as far as to order a shirt that reads “JIMIN + Y/N 5EVER” or just straight-up purchasing a conjoined sweater, so you’ll never be separated ever again. It is insane how infatuated he is, yes, but there is not a single soul within our universe that could cherish you as utterly as he does. And Jimin will walk with that fact to the grave.

❝ Ngh! No, don’t leave! Stay in bed, just for a couple more minutes! Maybe even a couple more hours, please…? A couple days…? ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

━━━ October has bloomed, the saturated leaves are painted damp as rain kisses the earth below. You have lost track of the months settled within the isolated cottage, but enough time has been spent for your new boyfriend to grant you the privilege of taking a hike (with his presence alongside yours, of course). To stay warm within the frigid weather, you encounter one of Taehyung’s sweaters, arm sleeve hung over the side of the hamper. As the clothing sits on your form, you immerse yourself in the expensive musk of your lover. He smells like a century spent in the clouds with peaches and fairies; he smells like Autumn as pumpkin pie and Halloween nights essence dances with the ghosts in the attic. It is ethereal the way summer’s affection seems to litter the fragrance he dresses with.

Upon seeing you standing beneath the rickety door frame, adorned in his moss-colored sweater, Taehyung had blushed with utter joy and bewilderment. He had nearly dropped the midnight-black umbrella in his hands, stunned upon witnessing you in attire as mere as his coat.

After a stroll through the empty fields beneath the rainfall (and hearing the shutter of a camera for the umpteenth time), you retreat to your humble adobe. The following night is spent in blissful harmony, where you’ll sleep beneath the canopy of stars, locked within his daisy-chain embrace. You are his scarlet kingdom, his summer’s honey, his garden adorned in fineries such as nymphs and emeralds and birdsong. As dawn blossoms in the sky, you awake alone within silken sheets, the revelation peculiar. As you regain consciousness and study the sunlit bedroom, you find Taehyung’s clothes folded neatly on the end of the bed, drenched heavily in cologne. You nearly cough from the intensity, studying the note rested on top, where your partner exclaims he needed to run for groceries in calligraphy. Besides this note, however, is a necklace with a vial swung upon the string. With closer inspection, you come to the horrifying conclusion that the crimson fluid within the glass was his blood. You now shall never be apart again, not with Taehyung right beside your beating heart.

❝ Oh, Y/N, to spent everyday with you like this, it’s like everything I’ve lost has returned home to me. You truly are a blessing, my love… ❞

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

━━━ It is a muggy Wednesday morning, where fog coats the floor of dawn, and the dense breeze embraces the earth’s redolence. Today is frigid, as the embers of the piercing winds kiss your honeyed skin. You can’t help but long for Summer to return home, where the sky turns pink in its sugary excellence and where you’ll find youthful infatuation on the curb of Cherry Street, like two poodles whose leashes have entangled beneath the Eiffel Tower. With philosophies of sweltering fantasies, you clutch a leather jacket, oblivious to its owner. Into the grey forest of high school, you’ll find every fragment of boredom known to mankind. But, throughout the dull conditions, at least you have your Jungkook.

Catching sight of you in his jacket causes a heavenly glow to inflate his heart, the essence of clouds and angel’s tears scattering his soul. It feeds into his possessiveness as if he was marking you with his scent, claiming you like a wolf would with his mate.

From thereon, you take notice of Jungkook’s subtle efforts to indulge you within his scent. His affections morphed from shy, rosy-pink compliments to physical touches, as if clasping onto you would drown out the musk of all those heathens you call “friends.” Your scent of moonlit harmonies and dusk in California had since dissolved into his scent of melting chocolate and cigarette smoke. His possessive tendencies may be extreme (like that time he snuck into your closet at 4 in the morning and perfumed every article of clothing with his cologne), but his intentions are ever so pure. You are his siren song, his sunset gaze, his purple rain. You are everything to this boy, with galaxies burning within your chest and distant realities snaking their way through your soul. Within the heart of Jeon Jungkook, you live inside Eden's garden, crafted just for you. And there’s only so much time before he scoops you into his embrace and never let's go.

❝ … You smell different… Who is it? Who have you been talking to? What is that blonde I always see you with? I swear, I’ll gouge out his eyeballs with a plastic spoon and force him to eat them!! ❞

[exosmutfactory]

Reckless Abandon

— Pairing: You & Baekhyun

— Genre/AU: smut,

— Word Count: 2.3k

— Rating: 18+ (M)

— [ Contains: ;) choking/breath play, sub/dom themes, etc. ]

❥ I’m blaming this song for everything, I was just minding my own business and here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

❥ ❥ ps: angry sex doesn’t fix everything - it is fun though

ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥

"You think you're so fucking cute."

"Shut the hell up, B." You sigh, roughly letting down your hair from its extravagant up-do. The array of pins and accessories clattering to the white surface of your vanity.

"No." His shake of head is clear in the view of the mirror,  black hair ruffled and broad shoulders hastily coming out of his black blazer; jaw visibly clenched. "No, I won't."

You sigh through your nose, searching for a makeup wipe, "You're so annoying."

"And my oh-so-beloved girlfriend likes to strip in front of everyone."

Red colors your damp cheeks as you recall the wardrobe malfunction you had earlier on in the night. One misplaced step on the trail on your floor length dress from a passerby and the room full of elegantly dressed women and men alike got a bigger glimpse at your physique than either of you could appreciate. Did he think you did that shit on purpose!? Who's the one that has to live with more regret? Who had to duck out of the room at the risk of crying in embarrassment?

"You're the one who fucking picked the dress." Your voice has lowered to that dangerously deep tone of bubbling anger as you step out of the long garment, turning around only to be met with his back. Vocal chords straining painfully despite the calm volume because of the previous screaming match you couldn't help yourself from partaking in on the way home. You should stop, but you're seeing too much red to give a damn.

"Not for you to be a slut in front of my associates." He chuckles humorlessly, tugging off the loose tie around his neck; the words falling nonchalantly off of his lips. You aren't seeing red at this point, you're seeing murder, and his name is on the god damn casket.

"What did you just call me?" Your matching chuckle is anything but a good sign, palms aching from the strength you’re using to clench your fists; holding yourself back from touching him. Who knows what will happen then, you rarely reach this level of rage towards the man of your endless affection.

He doesn’t even move, frozen as if just coming to terms with what came out of his mouth. His lack of response spurs you on to cross the room with impatient strides, tugging his shoulder back. "I'm fucking talk-"

You wince as your back collides with the wall, glaring up into equally furious eyes with your narrowed ones, "Get off of me, Byun."

His lips quirk up, it's more of a snarl than a smile as he crowds your space. "Or what?" He muses, stepping forward just enough to cage your body fully against the wall. The way his hand holds your own above your head and the all too familiar bulge pressing into your stomach falters your words; train of thought slipping away at the new look swirling in his dark brown eyes.

"Or…" You utter, gaze not straying away from his own. "I'll fucking kick you-"

He swiftly grabs your leg before you can do any damage, wrapping your thigh around his waist before slamming his hips to yours. The sudden contact between your bodies and your back into the wall pulls a gasp from your shaky lips, stomach turning at the pleasant ache it leaves behind.

"You were saying?" Baekhyun murmurs with a roll of his hips, smirking down at your speechless form. He adjusted his hold on your thigh, leaning to whisper in your ear, "Do you need me to remind me who you belong to?"

You grit your teeth, "I belong to mys-self-" you stutter, not expecting his hand to slip inside your panties so suddenly.

"You sure?" Humor is clear in his voice as he swipes his fingers between your slick folds, the lewd noise it admits making you flush all the way up to your ears. "This cunt sure is saying something different."

"Fuck you." Your voice has softened as well, in tiredness or lust, you do not know. But the knowing look on his face makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, having to bite your lip when his fingers slowly drag up to your clit, merely resting against the sensitive bud.

"Maybe if you ask nicely-"

"Never in a million years." You hiss despite the arch of your back.

Baekhyun pauses, looking over your flushed form for a moment. He licks his lips before meeting your eyes again, hosting you up into his arms without a word.

You barely get a grip on his shoulders by the time he's throwing you onto the bed, crawling over your disoriented form on the white silk sheets.

"I guess," He mutters going in for a kiss, hands focused on groping your breasts and twisting your nipples between his nimble fingers, pulling on them just enough for you to whimper, "You need more."

His warm palms slide down your body in the most agonizingly slow pace. You're already panting for breath under his thorough touches and unrelenting lips. He pulls off your panties with ease, spreading your thighs widely over his own.

"So compliant," He murmurs leaning back, eyes trailing over your naked form spread out for him. "Tell me, where did your fighting spirit go, baby?" His fingers slips effortlessly within your wetness, fingertips rubbing slow circles around your clit; watching you try not to squirm with keen eyes. "Hmm? Cat got your tongue?"

All you can do is bite your lip, refusing to respond while directing your gaze to the ceiling. Yelling when his palm roughly slaps your wet core.

He tsks at your thighs trying to close, tapping them, "Keep those open." His voice has that no nonsense tone, one you'd rebuke against if he wasn't palming you firmly, fingertips teasingly dipping into your entrance. "And keep those pretty eyes on me."

A roll of said eyes brings forth another slap, his other hand wrapping around your neck. Your breath hitches, eyes locked on his own, the soft caress of his thumb over your pulse point making you clench on nothing.

"Look at this soaked pussy," He murmurs, watching his fingers slide into your clenching walls with ease, curling them up just enough to make your thighs shake. "My cock will slide right in."

You're drawing blood at this point stubbornly trying to contain yourself, pressing yourself the tiniest bit into his coaxing hand.

"My lady doesn't feel like talking, huh?" His tilt of head doesn't match the mischievous look twinkling in his eyes; not breaking eye contact for a second while gripping your thighs, pushing your knees towards your chest.

You gasp, meekly holding the back of your legs up, feeling yourself blushing all over again at such a vulnerable position. Baekhyun's eyes greedily drinking up the view of your body on display.

"Look at you…" His thumbs part your folds, wicked tongue swiping over his bottom lip before he's leaning down to your core, warm breath making you tremble. "Who else could make your pussy this wet, baby?" You feel more than see the swipe of his tongue up your folds, moaning shakily when his lips wrap around your poor clit.

"Hmm?" His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin as you squirm under the strokes of his tongue, little gasps and whimpers streaming like a waterfall from your lips. A messy mix of your arousal and his saliva is already dripping down to the sheets below. "Who else eats this sweet cunt like I do."

"B-Baek," You can feel that coil in your stomach beginning to snap, eyes squeezing shut and body tensing in preparation only for the warmth of his mouth to disappear.

"Hmm? What baby?" He sits back up, wiping his glistening  mouth and chin with the back of his hand despite your protests. "You talk all that shit and think you deserve to cum on my tongue?"

An acute feeling of anger flares up inside of you, squashed down the second you part your lips by the feeling of his bulge pressed against you, only a whimper escaping much to your disappointment and his glee.

"Does my baby want something?" He muses, fingers tapping rhythmically on your shaky inner thigh; pining his hard on more firmly against your weeping core. "Hmm? What do you want, honey, tell me."

"I-I," You squeeze your eyes shut; between the ache between your legs and his fully clothed form leaning over you, you know that this isn't a fight you can win. Baekhyun already has you right where he wants you; under him, hyper sensitive to his every touch. But-

Your eyes flutter back open, swiftly shoving him back with your foot on his chest. Settling into his lap before his shocked form can sit up from the bed. "We are talking about this." You murmur, pushing up his shirt and circling your hips, tucking your fingers under the waistband of his black slacks as he quickly pulls the white material over his head.

Baekhyun's lips part, but you just grind harder against him. "T-Tomorrow." He gulps, helping you remove his pants and boxers all together.

It's your turn to hum, smirking down at him while holding his cock in your hands, teasingly twisting your fingers around his sensitive head. Your thumb ever so slightly dipping into his slit to make him wince, his tip weeping even more precum. "Never forget, baby." You meet his eyes, feeling powerful at the bounds of desperation and need swirling within those fierce brown orbs. Leaning to nibble his earlobe, "I can make you just as weak in the knees."

He continues to silently give you those eyes, groaning when you slip his cock around your wet folds, seeming to harden even more in your palm.

You've been with him long enough to know he won't beg. No matter how hard he is or how much your arousal soaks the sheets, he'll still be the most stubborn man you’ve ever known. So you take the liberty of lining him up with your clenching entrance, taking your time sliding down on him; biting your lip at the stretch as he throws his head back. Adam's apple bobbing in his elegant neck. The clear expanse of skin invites you to mark it all over with the shape of your lips, and you do so willingly.

“Move,” He mutters, tightening his grip on your waist, jaw clenching when you clamp down on him.

You lean back a bit, merely raising a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You leisurely lift up to the tip of his cock, sliding back down at a snail’s pace. “Who’s on top right now?”

“Who’s getting ready to end right back on the mattress?” He raises his head from the pillows, black strands of hair already sticking to his forehead. The message in his eyes is clear: move or I’m doing it for you.

You smile sweetly at him, a complete 360 from the way you brace yourself on his firm chest, slamming yourself down on his cock with a vengeance. “You sure are needy,” You murmur in wake of his barely contained grunt, continuing with the slow yet brutal pace. His cock pulses every time it’s deep in your snug walls, making you laugh. “Are you sure you’re gonna last?”

Baekhyun practically growls, strong arms wrapping around you before your back meets the sheets once again. “Had your fun, baby?”

The satisfied smirk is promptly wiped off your face when his fingers venture back to your clit, grip tight on your hip as he tilts them up to better accommodate him, head of his cock grinding right up against that spot deep within your spasming core.

“So brave drenching my cock,” His lips hover right over your ear, uttering even more filthy things as he pulls a yelp from your dry throat, snapping his hips into yours. Slender fingers relentlessly flicking your clit as he picks up the pace. The obscene noise of his cock slipping within your soaked walls and his balls slapping against your ass brings you close to the edge. A loud moan falling from your lips when his hand once again wraps around your neck, adding the slightest pressure to make you breathless. “Be a good girl and fucking take it.”

There’s not much you can do besides call his name as he pounds you with reckless abandon into the sheets, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist as you grow close. “B-Baek,” Your eyes fall shut, turning your head away when he swiftly lands a slap on your clit.

He’s not far off either, breath hitching between his gruff grunts and quiet moans, hiding his face in your neck while your hand tangles in his hair. “Come for me.”

Between his fast pace and dexterous fingers, you’re coming undone in seconds, roughly tugging on his damp black strands and clenching around his cock like a vice.

Baekhyun gasps, easing the pressure off of your neck before he’s trembling above you, hot spurts of his warmth filling you up as his sloppy thrusts slow to a stop.

You both lay there for a while catching your breath, your fingers lightly gripping his hair. “...Baekhyun?”

He sits up at the sound of uncertainty in your voice, looking you over for a moment before tucking your hair behind your ear. Swiftly changing your positions with you held to his chest.

You gasp a little at the sudden movement, whimpering as he groans at the way you clench around him again, feeling him stir within your walls. “Baek, w-what-”

“Let’s stay like this,” He mumbles, arms tightening around you when you attempt to get up.

You pause, taking a good look at him, “You’re still inside of me.” Your nose crinkles slightly at the reminder, feeling the tell-tale sign of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs.

“Of course,” He hums, firm hand sliding to your ass and pressing you down further on him; the messy glide of it pulling another whimper from your lips along with his low toned words. “Have to make sure my girl remembers who she belongs to.”

[drakewalkerfantasy]

The art of love. (Tatum x F!MC) NSFW

Summary: When all the truth is out, they are finally free to love each other. At least just today... at least just now. But will it be enough to protect them from Mrs. President or will the truth finally get out?

Words: 3586

Authors notes: I really hope you will enjoy this. Please let me know if still want to be tagged and what I can improve. Huge thank you for @jamespotterthefirst​ for proofreading and reading this for me and being amazingly supportive friend. Also huge thank you for @choices-bound​ for being supportive and also reading this before I published. 

Raiting: NSFW/18+

**Warnings: SEX/LOTS OF IT/PLEASE NO MINORS**

See Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Even before she could finish the sentence... even before she could say anything else, his lips were on hers. Kissing her hard and deep. Desperate. The way she’d never been kissed before, teeth and tongue clashing, making her toes curl and her mind freeze. Silencing all the thoughts that she had only a fraction of a second prior. He tasted like a mixture of citrus and coffee, and she moaned, when her tongue met his. Feeling how his growl reverberated against her lips, while his hands roughly gripped her hips pulling her even closer to his body. Rocking it against hers. His kisses, wet and sloppy. His fingers digging into the softest skin he ever felt. And his voice, rasped and husky, coming in short huffs between kisses, making her wetter than she ever was.

“I’m not sure if I can hold back,” he groaned in desperation when Claire's hips grounded into him. Her head falling back with a whimpering noice. Feeling how her insides went to mush, when his lips slide against her neck. Leaving wet trails and tiny bites against its column. His hands shaky on her hips, and she could feel how the barely constrained desire was seeping through his voice. “I... I didn’t have anyone for awhile... I just... I couldn’t, not when you were so close... not when the only one I wanted was you,” his voice low and husky, making her toes curl.

“Then don’t... please don’t hold back,” she chocked out, her voice needy and pleading. Wanting to confess that it was the same for her. That he was all she wanted. That he was all she daydreamed about for days... weeks... month. For too long to be able to hold back. But instead she let out a shuddering breath. Making an animalistic growl to leave his throat.

Instantly, and without changing positions he rolled her onto her back. Her legs fell open before she locked them behind his back. Her hand moving to his neck, pulling him so close that it seemed that every part of her body melted into his. Her other hand was already working on his belt, feeling the throbbing proof of his desire against her belly. Wanting nothing more but to give herself fully to the man she loves. To the man she always loved. And to the man who suffered so much because he loved her. Always loved her.

Her fingers gently grazed the front of his pants, while dragging the zipper down, causing his body to jerk slightly with a sharp inhale. Roughly he grounded his hips into hers as if warning her not to toy with him. As if telling her that if she will test him some more the barely restrained control that is left in him will snap and he will have her. Right here... right now... like that. Willing and desperate. Hard and rough. The low animalistic growl that left his throat and the tightened grip on her hips affirming the statement he made just a moment ago. And the rasped words that left his lips, that continued devouring her neck, were the final affirmation she needed.

He wanted her... He desired her... He craved her...

“Stop,” he growled. His teeth snapping against Claire’s neck in a warning, before he drew a long lick along it. “I can barely hold back from not to fuck you...”

“I said, don’t,” Claire moaned, throwing her head back, arching her back and straining like a string along Tatum’s body. Her legs still firmly locked behind him, while she lifted her hips up grinding herself against his hardness. Wanting nothing else, but to be his, to finally let herself go and be loved by the man who suffered so much only because he was unfortunate enough to love her. She could still feel his pain and heartache, and all the ways he tried to hold back as if afraid for them both to get hurt and burned. As if afraid to harm her. And it hurt her in the way she never felt before. And she loved him... oh God... how much she loved him. All of him. How stoic he was... how strong he was, despite everything her mother brought him through... and how loyal he was to the people he loved... and he loved her. And oh God... how much he loved her.

She felt how her tears dried out by his kisses. Felt how his hand slowly dragged her dress up... higher and higher. Felt how he shifted between her legs slightly lifting his hips up, finally letting her push his suit pants down his body, kicking them all the way off. Her eyes widened when they slid to his hardness, noticing how his length stood proudly between his legs. Gasping in surprise, when she realised he wore no underwear. Her mouth watering, and she could feel how the heat between her legs intensified. He looked good... so good that she could feel how her desire spiked up just from the look at his length. Her lips dried out, and the tip of her tongue ran over them, making them glisten again. Her heart pounded violently inside her chest, and her hand ran toward his hardness wanting... needing to touch him. But before she could his strong hand grabbed hers and pinned them to the windows bench’s mattress. The low animalistic growl emanated from the depth of his throat, when her hips rose, thrusting against his throbbing hardness. And all what separated them was a thinnest material of her underwear dampened by her juices.

He kissed her vigorously, loosening his tie. His hands working on the tight knot around his neck, letting go of her hands. Letting her work on the buttons of his white shirt. Her movements were so desperate that he could hear the quiet thud of the buttons hitting the floor. His hands as desperate as hers working impatiently on the thin material of her panties, ripping them off with one rough tug. His hands reaching the hem of her white summer dress and in one fluid motion jerking it off her. His shirt and blazer joined it only a second later on the floor. And when his eyes finally met hers they were already pitch black and dilated, like two dark coals burning in the dim lights. His eyes roaming her body hungrily, while hers taking him in. And by the time their gazes met again they barely could breath from desire and heat rising between them.

Their lips colliding in a passionate all consuming kiss, while Claire’s hips rolled against Tatum’s hardness making him groan in desperation before pulling slightly away. His gaze taking her in, feeling as if all air was knocked out of him. Feeling as if he cannot breath. Her lips puffy from the force of his kisses, her eyes hooded and her breasts rose and fell unevenly with each breath she took. In this moment he knew that if they would not slow down now he would be undone just by looking at her, just from the look in her deep chocolate eyes. She was so breathtakingly beautiful... and she was all his. Finally his.

He could feel how his body shook slightly from barely constrained desire. His forehead dropping to hers and his chest heaving with the heavy breaths. His eyes half closed and their breaths mingled.

“Are you okay?” whispered Claire, running her hand soothingly over his back.

“Yes...,” he breathed. “I just... need a moment,” he added after a beat, while his hand moved to her cheek, swiping a thumb across it and kissing her gently. “You are beautiful,” he whispered against her lips. So close to hers that she could feel his hot breath fanning against them.

His hand moving slowly down her body and toward her core. So tantalisingly slowly that every brush and touch of his fingers sent a current of electricity through her, making her gasp and moan, and crave for more. He trailed his fingers down her neck, past the collarbone. His thumb brushing the undersides of her full breasts, his fingertips circling lightly around her nipples before sliding lower... and lower... and lower. Until he finally felt how her hips rose up impatiently begging for his touch. Waiting for him to oblige until finally he tantalisingly slowly ran his fingers over her folds, parting her gently and pushing inside. He could feel how her juices coated his fingers, while he started to move them slowly in and out of her. His thumb pressed firmly against her swollen nub, drawing tight circles over it. Feeling how her body trembled from his touch and her moans came as a breathy sighs.

“Oh God,” he sighed, feeling how her body shook along with his. Her thighs tensed, and she gasped while her eyes widened, feeling how her body started to tremble under his touch.

“Tatum...,” she wept almost pleadingly, throwing her head back, while his fingers touched her in the way no one else’s ever did. His thumb rolling over her clit as his long digits urged in and out of her not stopping even for a second until he felt her to fall apart. He could feel how her body tensed clutching at him desperately, the soft cry leaving her throat, while he held her close to his body gently helping her back down from her heights.

“Are you okay?” he whispered tenderly after a moment, brushing away the dump stray of her hairs. His fingers lingering just for a little bit longer, before pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, patiently waiting for her reply.

“Uhuh...,” she managed weakly, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. Her fingers tracing across his abs, wanting him so much that it was hard to breathe. Wanting him to know that this is so much more than just physical and so much more than words could ever describe. “I just...,” she breathed, barely able to open her eyes to meet his. “I just... I... I never came so quickly. Oh my God, I cannot believe you made me come so embarrassingly quickly. And also so hard... it was mind blowing. I... I never had mind blowing orgasms,” she babbled, feeling how he nuzzled into her neck, chuckling softly. And the light blush crept up her neck colouring her cheeks. But the desire never faded, burning even stronger within her. Her digits inching closer and closer to his hardness, the question itching on the tip of her tongue. “Do you... do you have a condom?” She finally blurted, feeling how the blush on her cheeks only deepened from how wanton and desperate she have sounded. Feeling how his fingers closed around her wrist, moving it to the mattress, pinning her slightly against it.

“N-no..., I... I don’t... I didn’t think that...,” he replied with a growl. Frustrated at himself that he didn't think about that before, so hard already that it was difficult to move. Angry at himself that if she wouldn’t ask he wouldn’t even remember about protection. Wanting her so much, that he even didn’t care.

“But do you... do you want to?”

“Yes… Oh God, YES,” he whispered the answer in a low growl, making her body shift against him with desire. “But we... we cannot... we don’t have... Oh God,” he moaned, when she raised her head slightly, just enough for her lips to graze along his collarbone sucking at his skin before letting it go with a pop. He felt how his hardness throbbed impatiently against her thigh not able to think clearly anymore. “I want you so goddamn much. I always wanted you... But I never assumed that we... I even couldn’t have dreamed that we ever would... I...,” blurted Tatum, his head falling in the crook of her neck inhaling her sweet floral scent. His breath shallow and he groaned, cursing under his breath, feeling how her thighs squeezed his sides. Sending tiny currents of electricity down his spine. Her voice was so tiny and soft and low that he barely caught the next words that left her lips. The words that made him throb and pulse ten times harder than prior.

“We still can... I’m on pills... it’s... it’s safe.”

“Are you...,” he swallowed hard, raising his head to meet her eyes. The desire and fear that she will regret it later, fighting each other, while his voice as a husky whisper left his throat. “Are you sure? I don’t want to...”

“Please... I need you...” she spoke quietly, the last words got lost by his lips pressed to hers. Kissing her so gently that she could swear that she dreamed it all, if not for a weight of his body pressed to hers. Her lips opened willingly, when his tongue swiped at the seam of them. Kissing her deeply and slowly, while his free hand guided his cock to her pussy.

He entered her slowly... slower than she expected. Making her hips rise in desperation for more... for deeper thrusts, but instead of complying she felt him gently placing his hands on her hips holding them down to the mattress. Pushing painstakingly slowly into her, feeling how warm and damp she was for him already. Feeling how perfect she felt around him. His lips running from her lips to her temple, pressing softly to it with a quiet growl. His eyes closed, trying to suppress his desire to thrust harder, to move faster. Not sure if he would be able to hold any longer if he would move even an inch. She could feel how his muscles tensed flexing under her touch until he finally moved inside her, thrusting deeper, sharper. His mouth moving back to hers pressing harder against it, swallowing a sharp inhale of air leaving her throat.

“Are you... are you okay?” he asked with concern lacing his voice. His eyes still closed and his breathing shallow against her lips. His hands stretched, shaking slightly, while he held his body up, desperately trying not to put his whole weight on her and not to thrust.

“Yes... and don’t you dare to stop now,” she breathed against his lips and this was all the command he needed. His hips started to rock against her, picking up the pace, making her moan and gasp against his lips. Making her body alight with so many sensations, while he thrusted inside her over and over, filling her fully, that she thought she will explode. Her toes curl, and her mind go fuzzy. Making her forget her own name while the pleasure overflowed her. Almost there... almost falling apart... almost exploding. But still not enough. Knowing that he still held back the part of him she so wanted him to unleash after getting a taste of it through his kisses. Rough and hard and all consuming. The ones that made her body, alight and burning in so many ways but one, and in the way it never did with anyone else. With the groan of desperation she tightened her legs and rolled him onto his back, taking him by surprise. Her knees firmly settled by either side of him, and her hands firmly splayed over his chest. His cock slipping deeper inside her, making her gasp from how full and complete she now felt. Her hips lifted hesitantly up before lowering herself back onto him, feeling how his hips lifted to meet hers halfway. Their bodies slap together with the groans, both too far gone to hold back. Both too tired of pretending.

His hands coming to her hips squeezing them harder than he planned to. His eyes never leaving hers, while his hips thrusted up to meet hers once again. The soft moan breaking out from her on a gasp, and he could feel how her pussy clenched him harder, taking him so unbelievably deep. He gritted his teeth with the growl when he felt how her pussy squeezed him before releasing, and it took everything in him not to come first when she rode him like that with abandon. Her head was thrown back and her lips parted, while her breasts bounced, taking his breath away. Wanting nothing more but to make her come first, before fully getting lost in her.

His hand squeezed her thigh harder, begging her to slow down. Feeling that if she doesn't, he would be undone in a matter of seconds. The grunts leave his lips, while the thumb of the other hand pushed between her lips, pressing firmly down on her clit. Making her gasp and shudder.

His thumb running slowly over her nub. And he felt how her thighs tightened, squeezing around his hips as she kneeled above him. Feeling how her entire body was buzzing with pleasure, so close... so incredibly close, but still not enough.

His hips were shifting back and forth. His hand squeezing her hip, controlling the way her body moved… just a little bit... not the whole way... at least not yet. The head of him pressed against the inside of her, making her gasp a little bit more often, and then gasp again as his thumb shifted, just a fraction, but enough to make the world still. Her body tensed, while everything slowed around her before she shuddered and the thousands of fireworks exploded in front of her eyes. Blinding, scorching, burning everything around her. And she felt how the silent cry left her throat, and her hands gave way, not able to hold herself straight. Her body limply collapsing on top of his. Feeling how his hands protectively wrapped around her frame, holding her to him as his hips rise to meet hers. Finally letting go, not able to hold back anymore.

“Fuck...,” grunted Tatum, before pushing so much deeper inside her. Thrusting forcefully, while his back arched. His forehead pressed firmer to hers, before their lips met in a hot, messy, sloppy kiss. And he could feel how his hands tensed on her hips, trembling slightly against her hot skin. And before he knew it his cock started to pulsate inside her, buried deep within her warm, welcoming walls. The hot thick ropes of his cum spurting hard inside her and she felt how the sensation alone sent her spiralling ones again, making them both cry into their kiss.

After the moment, spent and exhausted they laid together on the window’s seat. Claire’s body curled against Tatum’s. Her ear pressed to his chest listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. His hands wrapped around her, while he dropped the soft blanket over their naked bodies. And she once again cradled closer to him, dreading to let him go, not wanting to come back to reality. The reality that hurt them both, to the cruel reality that almost took him away from her.

Her skin still throbbing with pleasure while he absentmindedly traced soft patterns on her forearm. "Wow…" she murmured finally, burying her face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent so close and so familiar. “It was... wow.”

"Yes... it was wow," Tatum chuckled breathlessly against the top of her head. "I didn't think I will be able to hold as long as I did... and you... you definitely didn’t make it any easier,” he confessed, bringing her closer to him. “Are you Okay?" he asked after a while, feeling how the mood between them shifted. Knowing Claire far too well to miss how her brows creased slightly and her lips pouted.

“I'm just thinking. You said that the intel you received said that this destination was safe.... Did you ever find out why there were snipers and why they were aiming at your truck?”

“No...,” he shrugged his gaze sombered and his jaw tensed, while his fingers lazily dragged over her side, leaving a small affectionate kiss to her temple. “I and Spencer’s wife... we tried... But we got nothing. Later,I spoke about that with the rehabilitation guy I had after I came back. He also lost friends. And he also felt guilty... as if somehow it was our fault. And I still... I still feel as if somehow all of this was my fault. And Eli, he... he still trying to help me. Still looks out for me.”

“It’s not...,” said Claire turning herself in his arms to meet his eyes. Her eyes full of panic as if any minute he could push her away. As if any minute he could realise something and leave her... this time for good. Under the wrong pretence that he may hurt her as well, as if him leaving her wouldn’t hurt any less. “Ugh,” she huffed in frustration. “I’m so angry... so, so angry... It's like all of this happening because of me. And I... I feel so selfish... as all that I can think is that thank God you are alive. And you are mine. And I... I cannot lose you again. Tate, I just cannot... Not again. Not ever,” earnestly whispered Claire, pressing herself to him. Hiding her face on his chest. Feeling how his hands tensed slightly around her. Bringing her so, so much closer. That it seemed that their bodies melted together. Making themselves a promise that no matter what they will alway be together. No matter what they will never let anyone break them apart. Even if it meant to hide their feelings in public. Even if it meant to sneak together at night.

Tagging: @choices-bound​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @mercury84choices​ @k2624​

[pyroclaststan]

Walking down the pathway that leads to the park’s entrance, guilt begins to bubble in your stomach and nip at your heels. It’s late: late enough that it matters that you called a young woman out into the cold dark to meet with you. Los Diablos is not a kind place on any given day but it is even less so at night, and despite how much you’d like to believe Lauritz can take care of herself, she’s still just an unpowered woman in a city of criminals, villains, and worse. And then there’s you: the asshole who’s preying on her for leads to your big scoop; who’s risking her health and safety for a tip.

Some hero that makes you, huh?

Rounding the bend of the path you’re on brings her into view—hard to miss her in all honesty. She’s sitting utterly poised on a bench in all white, so much so she seems to glow in the night beneath the lamp hanging high above her. The LED light makes her platinum blonde hair match her suit and coat, and the look is only broken by the clear bag on her shoulder that she grips nervously with one hand, and the threatening grey of her concrete heels. A good weapon disguised as a fashion statement: she’s clever in subtle ways like that. Eyeing the contents of her bag that are proudly on display, you wonder what else she’s hiding on her person.

The coat’s big enough to hide a few guns, as is her blazer despite being tied close to her waist; her top won’t hide much, but her high waisted dress pants drape freely enough that they do. That isn’t even taking into account pockets, nor the surrounding area, but your scans pick up no noise except for whatever she’s humming, crickets, and the tick of her manual watch: you’d fried her digital one once and she’s never transitioned back since she’s been friends with you.

A quick little jolt of electricity and the light between the two of you flickers and shorts out suddenly, hiding your approach. Stepping off the path and into the dark—like a weirdo—you observe for a few minutes, ever-suspicious. She’s still humming as she looks worriedly at the light, though the tune sounds a little nervous and is proven so at how badly she jolts at the sound of a cracking twig behind her as a particularly fat squirrel speeds past. No weapon pulled, no defensive fighting stance: just a woman clutching her chest and bag and breathing through the panic of being alone in the dark. There’s a pretty good chance that little ‘oh my fucking god’ just now was hers.

You really are an asshole.

Sneaking back onto the pavement, you shove your hands into your coat pockets and adopt Kingsley’s signature slouch. You can admit you’re close to perfecting it since they’ve been around a whole lot more, giving you plenty of study. Spotting a little pebble ahead, you step out of your way to aim a light kick at it; make a little noise to draw her attention. Just as you enact your plan, however, sprinklers kick on beside you, and Lauritz jolts up again with a sharp noise of surprise at the sight of someone walking up to her in the dark.

“Sorry, sorry!” you call out, genuinely, doing a small little jog up to her with your hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Your face is as sincerely apologetic as you are, that really wasn’t planned.

Her widened mint eyes close as she exhales a deep sigh of relief, one hand still clutching the dainty necklace at her chest in a death grip while the other flexes as she tries to calm herself down. She takes a few deep breaths through the shock, then fixes her bandeau before tightening her blazer’s tie a bit.

“No, you’re totally fine: I’m just easily startled in the dark. I don’t know why I said yes to coming out this late knowing I’m a scaredy-cat. Well, I know why I said yes, I just should have requested a cafe or somewhere well-lit. Really anywhere but a seedy, off the path park. No offence.”

Her laugh is nervous, but that’s fair: you scared the shit out of her. Civilians don’t have the same hyper vigilance as you and your usual crowd. Still, a bright smile aims itself at you and shame shoots straight down your spine at the sight of it. She’s very forgiving. It makes it hard to believe she’s any kind of criminal, no matter how much you’re aware she is.

You wonder if that’s purposeful or not, but quickly return the smile all the same as she tilts her head at the sight of you, silky hair falling loosely across her neck, free for once. She’s taking in your stance, appearance, and clothing; trying to figure out what you want and how you’re doing. Your jeans and crew neck counter your coat just fine—you look tired, but resigned to going out.

“I really should have thought this through a little more, to be fair,” a strained chuckle as you rub the back of your head. “It was very last minute and I was in a bit of distress so I didn’t consider…” you gesture about.

You kinda hope she doesn’t really have a boss to report back to: especially the kind of boss who would take risking their henchman’s life personally. But there’s too many dots and strings connecting her to the wrong type of crowd to believe that, not that you can really talk. You’re most likely dating one of them, if not her boss themself, so you’re pretty assured to get an ass kicking later.

“It’s okay, really!” she perks up. “I was just a little startled earlier at a squirrel over there—okay, saying that out loud is embarrassing, actually. Ignore that.” She covers her face with her hands, freshly manicured in a beige-pink ombré and adorned with a few simple rings, and lets out a muffled groan.

“Hey, protecting you from squirrels is the least I can do for dragging you out into the night,” you smile a bit brighter, offering her your arm which she takes after you nudge her a few times, then slipping your hands into your pockets once more. “Raccoons, though: they’ll be a problem.”

It’s a little strange being able to look almost directly eye-level at the person next to you, rather than up. So much so that you do look up first, then two inches down to where Lauritz’s face is turned down with a blush on her ears. Her heels have her at Steel’s height; curiosity trails at how tall Kingsley would be in those heels, and the thought of that giraffe walking about the office in any heel makes you chuckle under your breath.

“Are you making fun of me in your head over there?” Lauritz asks with a grimace and groan. “I’m just going to go home and never stick my head out again.”

That just won’t do. You laugh, pulling her in a little with your arm. Teasing and jabs won’t be the move here, this isn’t Chrysanta; soft will work.

“No no, sorry. I was thinking of the last time I was scared shitless at an animal, too.” You give a diplomatic smile.

“Please… don’t hold this over me all night.”

She sounds mortified.

“No no no, it’s a funny story! It was a goat.”

Now she’s looking at you with a puzzled look on her blushed face, disbelieving. “A goat?”

“Yeah, it was a goat my friend and I were chasing around. My mother has a ranch, you see, and Snowball is well… ornery.”

“Snowball?” she laughs, relaxing.

“Hey—she causes untold destruction.” You wish you were lying.

“Oh, I don’t doubt any creature named Snowball has a penchant for destruction: it’s practically karma for giving them the name.”

The two of you laugh, falling into an easy banter that always feels a little too familiar. Current company, however, is far more personable than your usual conversation partner; easier to get talking too…

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” you say with a sigh, letting your shoulders sag a little. Just enough vulnerability that it doesn’t bleed over to pathetic, nor does it tarnish your heroic appeal. You’re just an exhausted hero: burdened by your duties and all the stressors that come with them. That really isn’t a lie. “I really needed a walk and didn’t want to be alone.”

She leans forward at that, eager to lend a shoulder as always. Is she genuine or trying to worm her way into your circle? “Are you okay? I mean,” she looks you up and down, a serious observation, “mentally, emotionally?”

Ohhh if only she knew. A sigh takes the place of that laundry list of issues. ‘Oh, you know: I’m hunting down the person who killed my mentor, villains are constantly rampaging through the streets, and on top of that my best friend and kind-of-ex-but-also-theyfriend is almost assuredly the newest villain in town who beat the shit out of me and my teammates before a rapt audience and continues to do so to heroes all over the city.’ Yeah, that’s a thing you can say aloud. But apparently your face more than expressed that journey because her brow is furrowed in genuine concern and the pout on her face doesn’t fit her model-like features. Like she genuinely cares.

There’s that guilt again.

“I know,” she starts softly, almost trepidatiously, “I know that you can’t really talk to me about a lot of it. Your life and career, I mean. Or at least I wouldn’t understand a lot of it—but if you ever do need to talk or want to talk, you can call me. I’ll do my best to cheer you up.”

“Isn’t that what I did tonight?” you answer, glancing at her face to watch her expressions.

“Ah, that’s true. I’m glad you did.” A dreamy smile as she raises her other arm up to also hold onto your previously proffered arm, walking close. “It’s too easy to feel alone in this city.”

You’re used to this kind of thing: you’re Charge, but it always feels different with her. Your mind immediately zeroes in on the age difference but it’s not that at all. She never really feels much younger than you unless you’re at a club together, you just like the excuse to keep her trailing along in insecurity. No, it’s just that it feels genuine. And that’s another thing you’ve been struggling with when you’re around Lauritz.

The idea that your manipulations and game could be real and serious to her; you might not just be a way for her boss to keep tabs, or a show piece for her personal and professional lives. The times you go to galas and her office or one of your coffee shops could be real encounters. She might genuinely enjoy being around your miserable ass, and you might be endangering her for it.

You are endangering her, you know that, and as bad as it feels you’ve made peace with that. It’s the goal that matters, and if a kind heart has to be broken along the way at least it’s a criminal’s.

You roll your neck, letting out a sigh.

“I think…” you start, hesitating enough to draw her attention, “that there’s something going on with my friend.”

“The one you told me about at the gala? Or one of the ones on your team?” she tilts her head, eyes looking away as she mentally lists everyone you could be talking about. Good memory, maybe too good. “Lady Argent, or your ex… uh, Kingston?” She looks back at you for verification.

“Kingsley,” you correct, “and yeah, that one. You can just call Angie Angie, by the way.”

“Ah, I don’t know—I don’t know her and don’t want to be too personal.”

“Then you can just do it around me and she doesn’t have to know,” you wink.

“Okay, deal.” A brilliant smile back at you, that quickly sobers into a somber gaze. “So what’s wrong with…” she trails off, thinking again. Trying to remember their pronouns? Probably. You don’t make a habit of openly discussing Sidestep among anyone outside of the Rangers. Old habits and all that.

“They are giving off some troubling vibes. Maybe I’m just paranoid, having known them so long, but something is just… off.”

That’s an understatement.

“Worryingly so?” she asks, a sagely little nod that says that she gets it.

You sigh. “No more than usual, like you said: it’s too easy to feel alone in this city. But that’s not what I wanted to meet up about. I just… I needed to get away from the hero world for a bit, y’know?”

You give her soft smile, closing that topic off and guiding her to this new like you do Chrysantamum. You’re being vulnerable, open, relaxed; she’s eating it up. Or at least, she’s wonderful at projecting that she is. You can’t forget what she does for a living, but it’s hard not to view her like your little island of normalcy in return.

Royale sure did find a golden lamb with this one.

“I can do that. Take your mind off heroics and villainy. But,” she trails off, bringing her hands behind her which you quickly dart your eyes to watch, “I’m going to need a coffee. Or tea. Or an espresso. Or really just… anything with caffeine, please.”

There it is.

“Long day at work?” you inquire, a charming little tone and tilt of the head—a dash of concern laced in.

She sighs heavily, throwing her head back causing a cascade of near-white gold behind her.

“I’m sure you know what I’m talking about but I’m just going to phrase it as a question anyway: do you ever feel like your boss needs to remove the stick up their ass before you beat them with it?” she huffs. Suddenly, her eyes widen. “Metaphorically. I’m not gonna assault my boss, please don’t arrest me.”

“Perish the thought,” your lip twitches. Not arresting you just yet. “If they did something to make someone as kind as you lift a hand, they probably deserved it.”

A sad smile comes to her. You wait, not wanting to miss this chance, but you don’t miss the feelings that play across her face.

Pity, sorrow, frustration, acceptance. Like she feels like real people do; like she’s an every day, average person behind her shady workings. The person you try to separate from her in your head.

“I think… I think that they think working to death is the only solution to life. Just working yourself to an early grave, so you’ll have your head down long enough that you’re distracted when the end comes.” Her gaze is far out, but once what she said settles onto her shoulders she looks shocked, grimacing as if she’s said too much.

You quickly look away, acting as if you’re mulling it over with deep thought as your eyes trail across the neon signs above the two of you as you walk the city streets.

“A workaholic,” you nod, “I know a lot of those. I’m guilty of being one.”

“You’ve seen my office: I can’t really talk either.”

“So you’re stressed?”

“Aren’t we all?” She rolls her neck and looks upwards towards the dark, hazy sky. “You do hero work—that’s way more stressful.”

“Yeah, but,” you raise your hand past her face, to gently grab and lift a bit of her hair, “some of us are so stressed we’re wearing our hair down. No accessories, no style. Just down. Out of character.”

You let go, accidentally touching her cheek with your retreating hand. She blushes, like you knew she would. Your heavy turn of phrase as ignored as the phone you’ve lifted from her pocket. Her focus is on the intimacy you paint across the interaction, drawing her back into your web.

“No one wants to be put together all the time…” she mutters. “It feels like wearing a mask after a while. Everyone expects it of you. Everyone wants you to be what they’ve built you into in their heads.”

You scowl. The two of you are more alike than you like sometimes. Too familiar.

“And no one takes me seriously if I’m not dressed up and drawing attention,” she adds on with a bitter tone and sour grimace.

Trouble in the underworld? A stray thought of the straight and narrow? Maybe a personal struggle of pride? You wish you could read minds like Kingsley can: there’s so much you want to pry out of her.

“A little bit of that ‘where’s your smile’ bullshit?” you huff, giving a knowing look. You’ve interrupted enough assholes around her.

“And being immediately viewed as unprofessional.” She shuffles her feet, dropping her head down before passing you a guilty look. “Folks, um… folks like to attribute any bit of confidence I have to showing off because I’m dating you. I guess we’re on a lot of lips. Lots of rumours.”

That’s what you’ve been worried about. Eventually, someone trying to get to you or Royale is going to realise they can get to Lauritz first. No, everyone knows that already: but eventually someone’s going to try it. You’ve picked up enough whispers yourself during your outings to be concerned about the lifespan of this game, but she chose to play ball.

“Do you regret it?” you ask. Half gauging her response, half curious.

She’s silent for a little bit, before reaching out for your hand which you give, adding a little squeeze.

“I don’t regret it at all—I like us. A lot.” She smiles fondly, lost to thought. “But I do sometimes think about what that will mean one day. The longer we’re together, the bolder someone’s going to grow until… the eventual happens. But I want to be together for a long time, too. So it’s a matter of what I can live with more: regret or vigilance.”

It’s upsetting. Knowing that she’s fully aware of the danger she’s in just because she enjoys your company but sticks to it. You wonder not for the first time if she’s under orders despite feeling the lack of truth of it. Maybe you hope she is to relieve yourself of some of the blame.

“And?” you trail.

“And I hope my boxing skills are improving just in case.” She sends a wicked smile your way, and you wrap your arm around her and laugh in response.

“Can’t say I was expecting that one.” Your laugh hides the rosy heat of that ego boost.

“Takes two to make a whatever this is. Do you regret it?”

It’s your turn to think, but you know better than to do that right now. You can’t bring yourself to regret it—not when you’re so close. You can save them, bring them in.

“Not in the least,” you grin, giving her waist a squeeze.

“Cocky,” she teases.

“Confident,” you correct. “So works been busy then? Always think about what a busy work day is like without a fist fight or murderer running about.”

“It’s much duller, I’m sure. And yeah: a new project is coming up. Lots of schematics have been coming through and I’m being assigned a new area.”

“New construction project?” Let’s hope your lead walks her directly to where you want her to go.

“Not sure.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t check before I left my office once I saw the size of the pile they left for me. I wouldn’t have been able to leave the entire night if I got sucked in. Heard something about a casino though.”

Casino. For someone like Royale, there’s only one casino that matters: and it happens to belong to Hollow Ground. For someone notorious for beating heroes and robbing villains it’s an obvious mark. Thank you Lauritz.

“Man, I always forget about casinos. Gambling always seemed like it would be unfair when people with super powers are running around.”

“I always forget about odds like that. I’m pretty good at it, actually. It’s like… meditative numeric pattern recognition for me.”

“I think that’s called card counting,” you joke.

“Huh. I should start playing cards instead of roulette then,” she tosses back. “Be my lucky charm?”

“Deal. I make great arm candy.” A brilliant smile and a wink sets her to blushing again, and as you walk towards the diner you’ve arrived at, your mind gets to work.

Holding open the door, making light and shallow conversation, and peppering in some flirtation is something you could do in your sleep. More important is your new info: Royale is going after Hollow Ground’s casino. That’s gonna be big; that’s gonna be a problem in many ways.

You absentmindedly nod along to whatever Lauritz is talking about, taking a sip of your coffee. Something about circuitry or electronics; maybe you can work an angle there to start collecting more information about the Royale suit. You lean and smile: of course you’re listening, of course you’re loving her excitement and passion. She means so much to you, after all; she truly has no idea how important she is.

Your thoughts are cut off by her hand resting gently atop yours. A small frown cutting into her beautiful features. What did you miss?

“I know you don’t really want to talk about it, and maybe I’m going to kill the mood. But I can see how stressed you are,” she confesses.

You had no idea your thoughts were showing.

“It’s just,” she struggles for the words, “a lot of people lose sleep about you getting home in one piece…” Her face is downcast, but suddenly she startles. “Oh gosh, that was probably a really stressful thing to say, oh fucking fuck, I’m sorry.”

You look at her again, really look at her: catching her eyes as you do, both of you locked in a stare. Kingsley would have never held eye contact for this long but that is their curse. Guilt makes itself known again, and suddenly your coffee tastes a lot more bitter.

God, you’re using her. She really cares and you’re the bastard stringing her along… but that’s just how it has to be. The asshole you’re in love with is on the other side of this tug-of-war: you’re a pair of manipulators, meant for each other, and using this woman like a chess piece.

You swallow thickly, disguising it as emotion. “Thank you,” you respond softly, squeezing her hand. “That means a lot.”